#but my brother kept staring at me judgmentally while i tried to

[puppyeared]

presto!

[reese-tasteslikepepsicola]

POST-OUTBREAK JOEL MILLER X FEM!READER

Joel feeling insecure about the large age gap you guys have

Warnings:

Large Age gap (reader is 28, Joel is 56), baby Ellie makes an appearance (ugh I love Bella Ramsey), lack of communication, hints to making out+Kissing+Sex, insults, body pain, crying.

—

• Joel first laid eyes on you when he and Ellie arrived to Jackson to settle down permanently.

• Tommy was giving Joel and Ellie a tour while you were taking a group of kids out of the Jackson daycare for a walk to the small playground.

• When Joel spotted you, he couldn’t help but stare at you and feel content watching how gentle and patient you were to the kids you were leading.

• Your warm smile that you flashed him when you caught him staring had him jump out of his daze and clear his throat, turning his attention back to Tommy’s voice.

• Ellie caught notice and nudged Joel’s shoulder, smirking and whispered, “Were you just staring at that pretty woman, Joel?”

• Joel had rolled his eyes, “I wasn’t”

• Ellie kept teasing him after that, making kissy faces to piss off the old man.

• The second time he saw you was at a Christmas gathering in the bar, strictly held for the adults a day before Christmas Eve.

• Tommy had brought you over to where Joel had been sitting on his own in the corner.

• “Joel, this is Maria and I’s close friend, Y/N. Y/N, this is Joel, my brother. He just arrived to Jackson earlier this week with his girl, Ellie”

• Joel thought you were so much more beautiful up close. You looked so much…younger, up close. Not even a wrinkle in sight.

• You had to only be 27 or 28 years old.

• When you both shook hands and you stared at Joel with so much genuine interest in your eyes, wanting to know about him and asking him questions, his seemingly cold heart had turned so much warmer.

• The conversation between you both flowed so freely and smoothly that you barely even noticed Tommy had removed himself from the conversation to go work the bar.

• After that night at the bar, you edged your way slowly into Joel and Ellie’s life, baking them cookies and lending Ellie your comics, and having them over for dinner alongside Maria and Tommy.

• Skip to four, long months after Christmas Day, you and Joel were an official couple.

• Joel had his doubts about becoming a couple due to how much older he was than you, and also hadn’t felt the touch of a woman since Tess, yet he kept it to himself knowing that if he tried to talk to you about it he’d feel vulnerable and all mushy. Joel didn’t do that kind of stuff.

• So he kept it in, even though it was itching to come out when the judgmental stares from people around town increased whenever you both would show public affection.

• He almost opened up to you about it one night when the Tipsy Bison Bar was gathered with people all around Jackson who had threw an anniversary party for Maria and Tommy.

• Joel was actually enjoying himself, having his beautiful girl on his left arm and a cold beer in his right hand.

• A slow song had came on and Joel brought you to the small dance floor where all the other couple were slow dancing with their loved ones.

• Your arms were wrapped around his broad shoulders and his strong arms wrapped around your waist.

• Joel was so happy and relaxed to have you in his arms and swaying gently to the slow Elvis song in the moment, that he wasn’t even focusing on anybody who was possibly staring at you guys with questionable faces.

• It was when Joel’s cold beer bumped your bare skin where your shirt lifted up, and you squealed, wrapping your arms around him tighter,

“Jeez, Joel! It’s so cold!”

• He did it again out of amusement and was letting out soft laughs,

“Can you get the bartender to refill it for me, baby? Please?” He asked, planting a kiss on your forehead.

• You happily took it from him and he watched you teasingly sway your hips dramatically when walking away from him, knowing that it always made him blush and laugh at your joking attempt at being sexy.

• He watched you from where he was standing, you were waiting for the bartender patiently, occasionally turning around to give him a grin.

• All the alcohol Joel had been drinking that night caught up to his bladder, so he had went to use the bathroom.

• You finally got the bartender to fill Joel’s bottle, and before you could start walking back to where Joel was supposed to be on the wooden dance floor, a man, around your age had tapped your shoulder.

“Uh, Hi? Can I help you?” You looked at the man who had short black hair and a nose ring with a confused look on your face,

“I’m usually not this forward but, you are one of the prettiest women I’ve ever seen here”

•You were used to men complimenting you around Jackson, so you just politely thanked him and looked around for Joel, not seeing him on the dance floor or sitting on any of the bar stools. Hoping he would walk away,

“You work at the Jackson Daycare, right?” You wanted to cringe at his attempts at small talk,

“Uh, yeah! I do” You didn’t ask him a question back, wanting him to get a hint that you weren’t interested in engaging in any broken flirting with him.

• He still wasn’t getting a hint, and Joel still was no where to be found,

“I have to ask pretty girl, are you seeing anyone at the moment?”

•You wanted to cringe again. ‘Pretty girl’ only sounded nice coming out of your boyfriend’s gruff voice.

• Speaking of your boyfriend, where the hell is he?

• There was a small line for the bathroom when Joel went, so it was taking longer than he thought it would.

• You looked at the man and gave him a tight lipped smile,

“I am, actually. I’m with my boyfriend” You responded to him.

• The young man looked around,

“And where is he? I don’t see him” You wanted to punch the cockiness out of him.

• That’s when Joel had came up behind the both of you,

“I’m right here”

• The tension released from your body when you heard your man’s voice,

“Hi” You kissed Joel on the cheek and slightly stood behind him, grabbing his arm to try and lead him to sit down. He wouldn’t budge from where he was now towering over the younger man,

“There a problem, young man?” Joel asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

• The man had laughed in disbelief,

“This grandpa is your boyfriend? Wow, unbelievable”

• You gave the man a dirty look and continued to tug less gently on his arm,

“Joel, c’mon. He’s not worth it”

• The man scoffed and stared at you,

“I’m pretty sure I’m worth more than this old fuck, bitch”

• That’s when Joel shoved the guy into the wall and clenched his fists,

“Joel, seriously! Let’s just walk away!”

• Tommy and Maria had rushed over to break up the two men, talking to them both, but their voices sounded blurry to Joel’s ears.

• Your face was becoming hot out of embarrassment due to the eyes from everyone in the bar all on you.

• You placed the beer on the bar counter and grabbed you and Joel’s coats from the hanger and walked over to him,

“Let’s go home, okay? It’s getting late, baby”

• Joel didn’t answer you, instead just taking his jacket out of your hands and walking ahead outside,

• Joel was quiet the whole way home. He wasn’t slipping his hand into the pocket of your jeans and giving you drunken kisses like he usually did on these nights.

• When you both got to his and Ellie’s house, he was still quiet.

• Though, he was being loud with his actions. Tossing his jacket to the side, kicking his boots carelessly off the carpet, and stomping up to his bedroom upstairs.

• Ellie, who was sitting on the lazy boy chair reading one of the comics you gave her, looked at you with a confused look,

“What’s up his asshole tonight?” You shook your head and rubbed your forehead,

“He got into a small fight at the bar. Nothing too serious” you said. Flopping down on the couch with a tired sigh,

“If it wasn’t serious, why is he acting like some fucking kid who got told he wasn’t allowed some candy?”

You laughed and shrugged,

“I really don’t know, honey. I wish I did”

• And it’s true, you really don’t know why that situation at the bar made him so angry.

• You knew Joel to be strong and get over his shit easily.

• Joel had been quiet and less affectionate for the next few days after that.

• The comments the much younger man made about Joel’s age really fucking got to him.

• Also the fact that the guy had the audacity to call you a bitch.

• What the guy said was getting to Joel’s head…what if a younger man was more worth your while? A man that didn’t groan and grunt when he sat down or up, a man that didn’t need massages before bed every night because of his constant aching bones, a man who was not old enough to be your dad.

• Joel was feeling insecure.

• Joel had finally opened up to you about it when you guys had the house to yourself.

• He had finished showering, a much needed shower after helping Maria clean the barn all day.

• When he walked into the bedroom, you we’re sitting pretty on the flannel sheets of the bed, a white night gown that Maria gifted you for Christmas draped over your body and a big smile on your face.

• Even though Joel had been in a foggy mindset since that night at Maria and Tommy’s anniversary party, looking at you never failed to make him crack a smile.

• He sat down on the bed, grunting when pain shot up his aching back,

“You okay, baby?” Your warm hand rubbed his shoulder, soothingly.

• Joel just nodded,

“I’m alright. Don’t worry about it”

• You frowned when it seemed like he didn’t want your touch.

• When he laid on his back, you, out of usual routine, straddled his lap, hopefully to have sex.

• It had been coming up on a week that Joel had barely touched you. Always wanting to to just head straight to bed,

“Sorry, sweetheart, not tonight. I can’t” Joel patted your bare thigh, signalling for you to lay down beside him.

• You became embarrassed, biting your lip and awkwardly getting off his lap,

“Oh, okay”

• Joel felt his heart slightly crack at the confusion and hurt in your voice.

• He wanted to so bad tell you how he felt, but he too felt embarrassed to mention how he had been stuck up all week because of the comments that guy made.

• He was hoping the problem would slowly solve itself.

• He looked at you when you sat up on your knees beside him, facing him who was laying down with one of his arms tucked under his neck,

“Joel, why have you been acting so weird with me all week?” You were chewing on your nail, staring at his face trying to study him.

• Joel felt his stomach drop. Oh god, here we go. He cleared his throat,

“What do you mean, baby?” He rubbed your knee with the hand that wasn’t behind his neck,

“You’ve been distant since that night at the bar. You’ve barely touched me or even seen me all week. Your just, distant. Ellie and Tommy see it, too” You placed your hand on top of his that was resting on your leg.

Joel sighed and stared up at the ceiling. He couldn’t hide it anymore,

“I didn’t like what that man said the other night” you remained silent, waiting for him to continue,

“He was right. I’m an old man, and I’m way too old for you. I see the way people stare at us in public, the judgmental looks and shit. They practically tell me that I don’t deserve ya. You deserve a younger man who has energy and active bones. Who can fuck you more than once in one night”

You wanted to cry hearing him degrading himself like that,

“Joel, I didn’t know you felt that way. How long?” Joel looked up at you,

“Before we even dated, sweetheart. It’s embarrassing, I know” You shook your head and straddled him, planting your hands on his chest,

“It’s not embarrassing. I’m sorry you felt that way for a while. I love you so, so much. If I wanted a younger man I would have already been with one of them by now, but I chose you. I chose you because your strong, you care about the people you love, your extremely handsome and make me feel like the only girl in the world” Joel could feel his neck and face getting red at your words,

“Joel, baby, please tell me when you are feeling upset about these kinds of things. I’ll only know how you feel if you talk to me” You combed your hands gently through his grey hair, looking down at him with so much love in your eyes it almost made him tear up,

“I love you” He reached his hand up to your cheek, rubbing it,

“I love you, too” You whispered. You pressed a kiss to the pad of his thumb while staring down at him. He pressed his thumb in between your lips, slowly pushing it in your mouth. You accepted it, and sucked on it slowly. He groaned and closed his eyes,

“Sweetheart, I really wanna make love to ya right now but my back is just so fucking sore” You slowly pulled his thumb out of your mouth,

“Don’t worry about that. Just lay back and let me take care of you, Joel. My Joel” Joel moaned at that, his big hands going to grasp at your hips, slowly pulling your nightgown up.

This was going to be a long night.

-

[godisshook]

Temptation

Ian quickly rose through the ranks in Phi Delta Tau. Even though he was just a freshman, he had risen his way to the top. His charm, combined with his demeanor, made it impossible to resist him. Despite this, he didn't give in to the vices of college, focusing on keeping his body "clean." He chose to become his floor's RA so that he could hold himself and others accountable, in all respects, he was a buzzkill, or so everyone thought.

James joined the frat cause of his dad, and it showed. He barely attended chapter meetings, and even when he did, it was usually after getting blackout drunk or ridiculously high. He started doing OnlyFans to help with his tuition, and while all the other brothers knew, nobody would confront him about it.

As Ian was returning home from class, he noticed a commotion coming from down his hall. It didn't take a genius to realize it was from James' room, so Ian walked down to tell him to quiet down. When he approached the door, he noticed it was open just a crack, so he peered in, looking for the source of the noise.

He looked through the crack in the door and saw James, clad in a maid outfit, posing in front of his laptop camera. He quickly pulled his head from the door, hoping James hadn't noticed him. Ian continued to peek as James lifted his skirt, and started jerking off. "You guys make me so horny," James said, moving his body closer to the camera. Ian could feel his dick press up against his pants, and he rushed to the bathroom before anyone could notice.

He looked at his bulge in the mirror, knowing it would be too obvious to just walk back to his room. He tried thinking of whatever he could to get himself to become soft again and thought of jerking off quickly to just "get it over with" Before he could do anything, the bathroom door *clicked* open.

"Are you planning on using the bathroom, or are you just gonna look at yourself in the mirror?" James said, as he walked in, now changed into shorts and a T-shirt. Ian looked back, forgetting how obvious his "situation" was. Ian looked down and immediately stared back up, his face turning beet red. James' eyes followed Ian's, straight down to his prominent bulge. James said, “I noticed you were looking at me from my door, I guess I’m now seeing the result of that.” “I didn’t mean it,” Ian replied. “I mean it's an honor that you, of all people, have feelings for me.” Before Ian could deny it, James would pull them into the bathroom stall, the space between them becoming noticeably small.

With the two of them now dangerously close, layers would come off in a flash. "You're gonna make me do something I regret." Ian's voice gained a hint of urgency, as his breath ran hot on James' face. "Then I won't, but you'll be begging for more." James pulled Ian into a deep kiss, but as James intensified the moment, Ian pulled away. "It was just so sudd-" Interrupting Ian, James would say, "It's fine, I was a little too forward, no hard feelings?" "Yea, you're all good," Ian replied. "Regardless, you were a good kisser!" James said, a slight blush on his face. Hands interlocked for a moment, but James would disengage. As he used his other hand to open the stall door, Ian kept his grip on James’ other hand for just one second longer, his touch lingering on James’ fingers. With James now gone, Ian absorbed the moment, how a hint of intensity clouded his usual good judgment.

As he walked back to his room, Ian's denied his feelings, even as he tried to hide his erection. Getting to his room undetected, he would lay on his bed, his mind replaying his bathroom interaction. He locked the door, opened his laptop, and typed James' OnlyFans link. Under a fake username, he paid for access, just in time for one of James' livestreams. He was only in his underwear, kneeling and facing the camera. Ian thought to himself, "He's proud of this?" James said, "Hi everyone, I'm so glad you could make it." Ian would simply watch as James spoke to those in his chat, as his erection kept him from focusing.

Slowly, Ian started rubbing his hard cock, and as James said, "What do you wanna do, daddy?" "I wanna fuck you," Ian thought to himself. Through bated breaths, Ian continued. James would begin fingering himself, and in a second, ropes of cum would layer his laptop, as James continued to seduce his audience. He quickly rushed to get tissues to clean up his mess and turned off his laptop.

Ian felt an intense shame as realizing what he had done kicked in. People had called him repressed, but he had never had someone make him feel like that. The fact that James, of all people, made him feel like this was enough to make him sick.  These "urges" had to stop. Ian resolved to stick to his regimen even more, and as morning came, he woke up before the crack of dawn to work out, choosing to forget about James. As his workout drew to a close, he heard a ding from the front, and before he could even look up, one of the brothers would point at the door and nudge him. "Bro, look who came."

As James stepped in, the entire gym, including Ian, would glance at him. Unaware that all eyes were on him, James headed towards the treadmills. He noticed Ian near the dumbbells with a few other brothers, and so veered over towards them. "Oh hey!" James said warmly. He was met with a cold, "What do you want?" from Ian.

This reply stopped James in his tracks. Finally noticing all the eyes on him, James replied, "Tough crowd I guess," a nervous chuckle underpinning the comment. "Everybody knows you're not here to work out, go home," Ian said. "You don't kno-," James protested. It was Ian's turn to interrupt him, as he said, "Go home." The other brothers, now crowding around the door, began to glare at James. Middle finger pointed towards the crowd. Turning back, he would scream, "We fucking kissed, Ian, kissed!" As the brothers looked towards him, he immediately denied it.

James felt nothing but hurt. How he somehow got tangled up with this guy, who denied them ever doing anything, despite him literally going to James’ door. Racked with this betrayal, James immediately thought to go towards revenge but decided to be cordial. He refused to speak to Ian and avoided him whenever he could. The two had gone into an unofficial pact, ignoring each other's presence entirely.

Weeks would pass, with the two barely talking. As he entered the laundry room, a muffled "Help!" came from the dryer door. He would walk towards the door, and Ian would look around at the scene, clothes all over the floor, and James at the center of it. James said, “Could you help, I put too many clothes in and it kinda….exploded.” His head was firmly in the dryer, and it was clear he didn't know it was Ian in the room. After contemplating helping out, Ian decided for the better and would move clothes from around James, freeing him from his entangled position. Immediately noticing his savior, James would return to ignoring Ian.

His eye would catch on a dildo in the corner, hidden under some clothes. Ian walked over to it and pulled it out from its hiding place. Holding it up to James, he said, "What were you planning on doing with this?" James replied, "Isn't it obvious?" Their two gazes met, an intensity rising from between their eyes. Ian began to get hard, his cock slowly rising in his underwear. James, now catching on, said, "You seem to always get hard when I'm around you, you are into me." Ian responded, "You wish, just cause you allow anyone to have their way with you doesn't mean I will" "What?" James replied, incredulously.

"Every cock in the house has been in you at this point," Ian said. James retorted, "Blaming your attraction to me on the brothers, how interesting," Ian paused, then replied, "You're so easy, you let anyone take advantage of you." Abruptly, James grabbed Ian's bulge, and said, "Just ram your giant dick into me already, I know you've wanted to!" James' words struck a chord in Ian, and he went on autopilot, gripping James' waist, and ripping through his underwear, ramming his cock into James.

"You fucking wanted this, didn't you?" Ian said as his cock slid into James' hole, with James gasping in response. "By the way you're going, you wanted this too," James said, gripping the dryer. Pain and pleasure mixed and mingled, as their bodies became hotter and hotter. Brimming with desire, months of tension were released in what seemed like a moment. Hoisting James up on his cock, Ian would bring the two to his unlocked room and close it behind them. After a few more thrusts, Ian got James down, with James walking towards Ian's dresser, the two taking an informal break.

"I'm not gonna be your fucking secret," James said as he drank from a water bottle. “You're not, and I’m sorry my stupidity got in the way,” Ian replied.  “Good,” James said. Returning to the bed, James would sit on Ian’s lap, sliding his cock in as he descended. “Fuck,” Ian said, tilting his head back. Ian would grab James by the back, and turn him on the bed. “Kinky,” James said. Their bodies would reunite as if separated from each other for ages. Ian lifted James’ thighs and began pumping his hole full, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through James.

Load after load came, and Ian kept going. James’ face had gone bright red, as he felt close to blacking out. “He definitely has a lot of energy,” James thought to himself. Ian kept going, acting as a man possessed. After drowning James in cum, Ian would finally have nothing left, and would cum one final time, sending his body into James’, the two now embracing.

"I'm a mess and I still have to go get my clothes," James said. "Sorry," Ian replied. A smile came over James' face as he replied, "Oh no, I definitely preferred you fucking me over sorting clothes." Rising slightly, Ian said, "Do you want me to help with anything?" "Don't worry about it," James replied. He laid a light kiss on Ian's lips, and walked to the bathroom to clean up.

Morning came, and Ian ruffled James’ dark hair, as his eyes slowly opened. “Morning sleepyhead,” Ian said. James cheekily replied, “You better be lucky you're hot 'cause that was the cringiest thing you've ever said.” “Whatever,” Ian said sarcastically. With a moment of morning kisses and sweetness ending seemingly too soon, Ian separated, off to get ready. James, in bouts of wakefulness and rest, barely noticed the time pass as Ian got ready. Returning to the bed, Ian stood on his side, but even so, his massive body towered over James as he slept. Feeling his presence, James would wake up, and look at Ian with fluttering eyes.

Shuffling under the covers, he moved over to Ian. Admiring Ian's body, James pretended to inspect him. “Whoa there big guy,” James said, feeling all over Ian’s muscly body. In a mischievous tone, Ian would say, “My arms are still sore after our “workout” yesterday, mind helping out?” Taking the hint, James replied, “It would be my pleasure.” He felt down Ian's powerful arms, to which Ian tensed in response, his breath hitching as James massaged each muscle, radiating heat throughout Ian's body. Ian said, "That feels so good." “Then let me make it even better,” James would reply, teasing at the knot in Ian's towel. A tinge of pain could be seen in Ian's eyes as he weighed the options, but he would ultimately decide to get up, but stay close to the bed as he put on his clothes.

“Come back to bed, babe,” James said. “Oh, so I’m your babe after one day?” Ian said, putting on his boxers. Smirking, James replied, “What can I say, when I get good dick I gotta claim it.” “You definitely got it” Ian said. Even the banter between them had a playfulness to it, and the two reveled in it. There was another still moment of simple peace, but once again Ian would interrupt it, “Well, I have to head out,” Ian said, putting on his sweatpants. “Could you stay with me for just a little longer, I miss your body on mine already,” James responded. To this, Ian said, “If I didn't have my practice exam today, I would have stayed.” Pleading, James said, “Just one more kiss, or two.” Finally swayed, Ian would give in, “I guess I could stay for a few more minutes.”

[moxfirefly]

I love your writing so much and how you write the turtle just ugh ♥️ So I’ve been in my very angsty mood lately so I’m thinking of Raphael x F!reader? If you don’t mind?

The reader is a anti-hero type of character doesn’t feel like a good influence on Raph who is more of the hero type. Especially since his family are against the relationship because of the reader’s morals so they have her second guessing herself. Raphael disagrees with his family and is a stubborn mofo as usual. Lmao

"Why are you running? Why is it that every time I get close to you, you take off? What are you so scared of?"

"I'm going to kiss you. Okay? Just...just let me kiss you."

Listen I’m having a heart attack at having you in my inbox because I’m a HUGE HUGE fan of yours and like yeah, no pressure, I’m fine, I’m alright,

Rated Mature (suggestive themes)

There were many instances where you could feel Leo burning a hole through the back of your head, the grimace he sported the second he could spot you out on the open was enough to make your eyes roll. You knew having him be anything but pissy wasn’t going to be an option when Raph had told you about him.

The tallest one wasn’t any different, he was subtle sure but you’ve changed enough cellphones in 3 months just paranoid over being tapped. He observed, calculated, probably thought up of ways of his own to sabotage.

The youngest seemed stuck between feeling joy for his older brother but the worry was there, the second guessing resonated in his blue eyes whenever you rode up in your motorcycle looking a little worse for wear. What had you been doing the week you’d gone radio silent? Why could he smell blood on you? Why were your knuckles so bruised?

It was natural for Raphael’s family to want to shield him, Splinter especially, it was normal that you came from the proverbial wrong side of the tracks.

But couldn’t they see?

You cared for him, deeply. Wanted him, desired him, he made the bullshit somehow fade away.

But those cold gazes, the ironic judgment they held the second Raph ran off towards you, you could picture it.

So when Raph ran, so did you.

Somehow keeping a step away to his forward steps.

Because now whenever he reached out you felt a twinge of unworthiness at his touch.

Because maybe you were as bad as they thought you were, maybe you were a bad influence, something sent to break him apart and condemn.

You wrist hurt from holding onto the throttle, the ride back into the city an all too familiar one. You could feel your phone vibrate in the inside pocket of your jacket and while could guess, you tried to ignore it.

Maybe it due time to quietly slip away, Raph was good, he was a genuinely good man who stood for what he did. Why corrupted him (were you?) why give this a death sentence? (Was it?) why hurt yourself more? (Will it hurt more when you leave?)

You pulled into the subterranean garage of the apartment building you’d taken up residence in. You walked the bike towards the spot and sighed. Your hands were shaking, vibrating from the buzzing of the night ride.

“Ya planning on just never answering?” It came from the shadows, the deep baritone you often heard in your brain at all hours of the day.

Raph stepped out of the dark corner of the garage with a tension in his shoulders that must’ve ached. Taking off your helmet and setting it on the bike, you watched from your tousled locks at a man you found peace in.

Leaving peace behind wouldn’t be easy.

“It was a busy night, came back into the city just now.” You kept your gaze adverted, anywhere where it wouldn’t hurt to see worries green eyes staring back.

“It’s been a week, kid…what’s going on?” What did I do?

Was all you could hear deep within the swallowing of his throat.

“Nothing, had a job, did the job, took longer.” You hated how dry you sounded, sandpaper words that could damage those scales of his.

When Raph took a step to greet you, touch you, you took a small one back.

When you chanced a look at him, well it was easier to eat glass than watch that look.

“Raph—“

“Why are you running? Why is it that every time I get close to you, you take off? What are you so scared of?” He was close now, a large mitt reaching for your chin, gently oh so painfully gently caressing the outline of your jaw. You looked up, eyes shaky from finding any way to let him go, to push him away.

“You know why—“

He didn’t let you finish again.

“I don’t fucking care, this is what I want, you, I want you.” He cupped your cheek, small and vulnerable against his large palm.

You drowned in the possibility of leaving him, so when you remained silent, didn’t say anything, Raph leaned down.

“I’m going to kiss you. Okay? Just…Just let me kiss you.” The need in his voice, the want so visceral it made you feel it all the same.

When Raph’s lips met yours, for those little moments you allowed yourself the luxury of greed.

[noosayog]

[Cold Feet] in which Atsumu gets cold feet before he even gets engaged

wc: 1.8K

warnings/content: angst to fluff, exes(?) to lovers?

noos's notes: This was originally intended to be pure angst, but I love a happy ending :')

Miya Atsumu wonders if you’re doing the same thing he is, staring at the ceiling, wishing you were in bed with him. He also wonders how things ended up like this. He only knows a couple of things with certainty in his life and those things are volleyball and that he loves you. He now regrets why he ever doubted that second thing. 

-

Two nights ago

Atsumu was nervous. After five years of dating you, he had bought an engagement ring that’s been tucked in the highest corner of your shared closet for a week now. It was an impulsive decision, really. Of course, he had vaguely envisioned getting married to you someday, but it was not something he had foreseen happening so soon. He’s still not sure what he had been thinking when he bought it. You two had never truly talked about taking your relationship to the next level. Was this just the next expected step in your relationship, now that you’ve been together for so long? Was this what you expected from him? He could think of nothing but the anxiety growing in his chest, the small piece of jewelry sitting at the crux of his worries and rendering him unable to focus on anything else. 

He kept this bottled up and to himself. No one knew. Not his teammates, not his brother, not you. For the first time ever, he found himself unable to completely immerse himself in the match that day. He knew that you knew something was wrong, but this was a problem he had to handle on his own, so he decided to go to a Black Jackals celebration that night instead of going straight home to you. And perhaps against his better judgment, he got drunk. 

At the end of the night, he’s almost incoherent and Meian had to call you to take him home. Upon your arrival, you gently took hold of his arm and threw it over your shoulder to take him to the car. Why were you so good to him now? Did you not know the havoc you’ve been wreaking on him for the past week? He felt a surge of irrational annoyance and pushed away from you. “Why are ya here? I can do things on my own.” 

You don’t understand the double meaning behind his words. 

You had laughed, thinking it’s drunken antics “Okay, ‘Tsumu. But I already came all the way out here, so won’t you please let me take care of my silly boyfriend?” 

The annoyance grew. It felt like a hot flash in his sternum. “No. Don’t need yer help. Can ya leave me alone?” 

You were taken aback. In a quiet voice, you responded. “Okay. Fine, but can you at least tell me what’s wrong? You’ve been weird all week and I don’t want to do this in front of your team, but you can’t speak to me that way.” 

“We should break up.” 

At the resurgence of that memory, Atsumu turns to lay on his side, curling up and clutching at his chest. He almost wants to pass out, both in pain and to avoid remembering what comes next. 

“What?” 

“I’m done with us, with us being together.” 

You stumbled back, tears beginning to well up in your eyes, but continue as calmly as you can. “Atsumu, can we talk in the morning? I’ll take you home or to Osamu’s if you don’t want to be with me right now. But I want us to talk this out so I can understand where this is coming from.” 

He didn’t understand how you could be so calm, so composed while he’s over here going crazy thinking about issues that center around you. Something in him snapped.

“No! Can ya just back off? I wanna be done with this, so we’re done.”

You’re crying now, but you persisted. You closed the distance between the two of you and cupped his face in your hands. Your hands were cool to the touch and the way you had tenderly taken his warm cheeks into your palms overwhelmed him. You tried one last time. 

“‘Tsumu, can we please talk about this later? Let me take you home now.” 

“No. I don’t wanna be with ya anymore. I’m going back with Bokuto.”

After that night, he had been wasting away on Bokuto’s couch for the past 2 days. After having all his teammates witness the scene that night, they pried the truth out of Atsumu. It felt liberating to let out his repressed feelings and there was a stark realization that you had been the unfortunate outlet of his immaturity. After a good scolding from Sakusa, Meian assured him that it’s natural to feel anxious at the thought of spending forever with one person. Marriage was a big deal, after all. 

At that, he bristled. He never once imagined being without you. It wasn't the thought of being with you forever at which he balked. It was then that he realized that he had been so caught up in putting an official title on your relationship, that he completely overlooked the very simple fact that he loves you and wants to be with you forever. He can’t imagine being with someone else and worse yet, the thought of you being with someone else was potent enough to kill. 

So Atsumu returns to your shared apartment, where he should have gone that night, with you. He knocks on the door, like he's giving you a warning that he would be intruding in your space by coming home. The feeling is foreign and he hates it. After a couple seconds of silence, he unlocks the door. Instantly, he knew something was wrong. 

The apartment feels too spacious, almost empty. The windows are closed and the air is stale. You always slept with the windows open. He calls your name, louder each time. Every room he checks is empty. The last place he looks is your shared bedroom, where he finds half the closet empty. The bathroom is devoid of your toothbrush and your little bottles of skincare. It isn't hard to understand that you had left. Just like what he had asked for. 

Atsumu sits on the mattress, bed made and pillows fluffed like it’s from a furniture store showroom. He calls and they go to voicemail. He texts but they don’t send. None of your friends pick up. 

As he lays in bed alone, he thinks of all his regrets. How could it be that less than a week ago, you were laying next to him, safe in his arms, his and only his. Now, he doesn’t know where to start looking for you. If he even has the right to. You had tried so hard that night to talk things out with him so why didn’t he just talk to you? Why didn’t he cherish every second he got to spend with you? Why is it only now that he realizes how unbearable it is to not be with you? What was he doing, wallowing in his regrets at Bokuto’s house all weekend? He could have come home immediately and maybe stopped you from leaving. For what seems like the longest night, Atsumu agonizes over his thoughts before finally giving in to a restless sleep close to dawn. 

– 

In the morning, he calls Osamu. Osamu does know where you are. He gives his idiotic brother a piece of his mind but offers up the address to your friend’s house. 

You open the door when Atsumu knocks and you do your best to school your expression to one of indifference. During the couple of days in absence of Atsumu, you’ve done some thinking on your own. You still love Atsumu, but he has made it clear he no longer wants you in his life. And while you could respect that even if it hurts, it was wrong for him to embarrass you in front of all his teammates and dismiss your pleas to talk. 

His eyes flick down to your body and you realize you’re wearing one of his old hoodies. You cross your arms over your chest.

“Atsumu.” 

“Hi. Can we please talk?”

“I think it would be best if we didn’t. If I left anything at your place, I can come pick it up another time.” You pick at the hoodie. “I’ll return this after washing it,” 

Atsumu reels back at this and closes his eyes at that. “No, I don’t- Baby, I-” 

“Please don’t call me that. You said you wanted us to be done and I am respecting that.” 

Atsumu takes a deep breath and presses on. “Ya said ya wanted to talk that night when I’m sober. I want to do that.” 

You wrap your arms tighter around yourself. “That’s not fair,” you whisper. “This isn’t fair of you. You know what you did was not okay. You can’t just say things like that and come back and expect me to do what you want to do, when you want to do it.” 

He hates that he's the one causing you all this pain. He wants nothing more than to promise he’ll never do it again, apologize until you understand that you’re worth the world. 

“I love ya. I’ve been thinking about marrying ya. But I’m an idiot and got scared about it all by myself. So I spun myself in circles thinking about marrying ya and let out all my anxieties and frustrations out on ya that night. But I know for absolute certain that I want to be with ya forever. And longer, if you’ll let me. I know I should have dealt with this better and I promise I’ll always talk to ya about my thoughts, instead of keeping it all to myself. I guess I felt ashamed that I even had second thoughts about marrying ya. I know I don’t deserve yer forgiveness and I’m being crazy selfish, but I’ll always have regrets if I don’t do everything I can to win ya back. I’ll do whatever it takes because I know I’ll never leave ya again. Won’t ya give me one last chance to show ya?”

You know you shouldn’t forgive him. You know he doesn’t deserve it no matter how he apologizes and promises you worlds. But the fact remains that you’re still in love with Atsumu. And it is the truth that he’s filled you with so much happiness in the five years you’ve shared with him. And it stands that these past few days were relentlessly miserable without him. 

“You-” you choke on a sob. “You really won’t get any chances after this, okay?” 

Atsumu doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you, your tears soaking his shirt and his lips desperately pressed to your hair. “I won’t need any others.”

[theweasleytwinsownmyjuicyass]

Shadows of doubt pt. 1

Pairing: Seokjin x f!reader

Genre: arranged marriage, angst, fluff, hurt to comfort.

Word count: 3.5K

A/n: I’m totally obsessed with arranged marriage trope rn 🫣🫣🫣 Comment if you want a part two!<3

Part two!

<

The day had started like any other, with you and Seokjin living separate lives under the same roof. It had been months since your arranged marriage, and while you both were busy with your respective companies, you had somehow managed to maintain a level of indifference towards each other. It didn't bother you much, as you had grown accustomed to the routine and had your own priorities to attend to.

But today was different. 

Today, you were invited to a family lunch at one of the many upscale clubs, a customary gathering that required you and Seokjin to arrive together. However, as the appointed time neared, Seokjin was nowhere to be seen. Your messages and calls went unanswered, leaving you increasingly frustrated and worried. The anticipation and anxiety grew as you tried to reach out to him, but to no avail.

The atmosphere at the family lunch was far from comforting. Seokjin's brother's wife, always one for gossip, took the opportunity to talk you down. She whispered rumors in your ear, insinuating that Seokjin was sleeping around and didn't care for you. As much as you tried to brush off the malicious words, the absence of Seokjin and the unanswered calls only intensified your insecurity.

The lunch dragged on, with aunties constantly reminding you of your apparent inability to keep a man happy. Their comments stung, but you put on a brave face, determined not to let them see your vulnerability. Hours later, Seokjin finally arrived, his charming smile captivating everyone around him. Everyone. Except you.

Although having him near brought you comfort, as the presence of Seokjin acted as a shield against the blood-boiling gossip coming from the women around you. Their judgmental whispers and critical stares had been suffocating you for hours. But with Seokjin by your side, you felt a sense of reassurance and protection.

When it was time to bid farewell to the family, you and Seokjin walked out of the club together. As you made your way to the car, he finally spoke to you, breaking the silence that had persisted between you for months.

"I have to pick up my computer from the office, but I can call my driver for you if you wish to get home sooner," he offered, his eyes briefly locking with yours.

You took a moment to gather your thoughts before speaking.

"I'll just ride with you if that's alright," you said, your voice timid, but determined. 

Seokjin lifted his head from his phone, his gaze meeting yours once more, and he gave you a dazzling smile. Opening the passenger's side door, he extended his hand, inviting you to join him.

You sat in the car, completely still, as Seokjin walked around to the driver's side. It was the first time you exchanged more than a simple greeting, and the tension in the air was palpable. As he pulled out onto the road, the weight on your shoulders became too much to bear. You couldn't keep it to yourself any longer.

"Never do this again," you spoke, the words escaping your lips with a mix of frustration and concern. 

Seokjin sharply turned to you, a whirlwind of emotions in his eyes, but quickly refocused his attention on the road, remembering his duty as the driver. His eyes kept darting between the road and your still profile.

"What are you talking about? Did I do something wrong?" his voice trembled with uncertainty. 

You hated that this was the first substantial conversation you were having with your husband, but you couldn't hold back any longer. It wasn't just about your feelings, it was about maintaining the appearance of a harmonious married couple, especially in high society.

"Never leave me like this, not knowing what's happening or where you are. I am your wife, and while I understand this is a marriage of convenience, we have an image to uphold for our families and society," you explained, your tone firm but not accusatory.

Seokjin's face turned a deep shade of red, embarrassment washing over him without fully understanding why.

"I'm so sorry, Y/n. I was caught up with a client at the office, and I couldn't leave earlier..." he trailed off, his voice filled with remorse.

Finally, you turned to face him, breaking your statue-like position.

"I understand that you're busy, but finding the time to return even one of my texts or calls to let me know you're occupied with a client would help me immensely. It's not just about me, it's about us," you said, your voice filled with a mix of frustration and longing for a connection.

Seokjin nodded earnestly, his eyes fixed on you as much as they could be while he drove.

"I'll never do that again, Y/n. You have my word," he assured you, his words carrying a hint of vulnerability. You returned your gaze to the window, feeling a mixture of relief and exhaustion from the emotional rollercoaster of the day.

As the car pulled into the driveway, you quickly exited and made your way back to your rooms. The moment your bed came into view, you face-planted onto it, releasing all the frustrations you had held in during the car ride.

"Gosh, he must think I'm an idiot," you mumbled into your pillow before sleep enveloped your exhausted mind.

...

The hours leading up to the ball felt like an eternity, with your eyes constantly shifting between the clock on the wall and the horrendous look book of designs presented to you by a potential client.

The meeting didn't go as planned, and the disappointment weighed heavily on your shoulders. Namjoon, ever the supportive colleague, escorted the client out, leaving you alone in the room.

"Is everything okay, boss?" Namjoon's deep voice broke the silence, bringing you back to reality. You sighed heavily, closing your eyes briefly to moisten them.

"Not really, Joon. I have a ball to attend this evening," you grumbled, the prospect of the social event dampening your spirits even further. Namjoon chuckled softly, a gesture that earned him a glare from you.

"I can come with you if you need a plus one," he suggested, a hint of care in his eyes. "Wouldn't be the first time for me."

You raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

"I have a plus one. I'm married to one, in case you forgot," you said, raising your hand to show him the emerald and gold band adorning your finger. 

"It's just... I don't know how to act around him. We live together and are married, but we hardly speak to each other," you admitted, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Namjoon stopped typing, fully turning his attention towards you.

"That doesn't sound like a happy marriage," he observed, concern etched on his face.

You sighed, your palms finding solace in tangling through your hair.

"I try, Namjoon. I really do. I'm always texting him about family gatherings and conventions we have to attend. But he rarely responds... Am I foolish for putting in the effort? I'm just trying to make this marriage work, but I often feel so alone in it," you confessed, the weight of your emotions bearing down on you.

"Well, then maybe it's time to stop caring if he doesn't," Namjoon suggested, his voice gentle but firm.

You looked at him, contemplating his words.

"I wish I could, but my mother would bite my head off if I dared to walk into the ball without him by my side," you said with a sigh.

"Maybe, for once, you should do as you wish and not just what your mother expects."

...

The evening arrived, and you attended the ball with Namjoon as your companion. Seokjin was already there, and his eyes caught sight of you and Namjoon walking in together. Your pale pink floor-length gown accentuated your beauty, but the sight of another man beside you twisted something inside Seokjin's stomach.

Seokjin's father also noticed your entrance and couldn't help but ask.

"Who is that man next to Y/n? Why isn't she arriving with you? Is something the matter between you two?"

"Everything is alright, Father. That's only her assistant," Seokjin replied, trying to mask the turmoil in his gaze.

His father scoffed, unimpressed by the explanation.

"One hell of an assistant, holding her like that," he muttered, his suspicion piqued. Seokjin's attention remained fixed on you and Namjoon, the rage building inside him.

Unable to contain his emotions any longer, Seokjin strode towards the two of you.

"Y/n, can I talk to you for a moment? Alone," he said, his gaze never leaving Namjoon.

"Please don't make a scene, Seokjin," you pleaded, hoping to avoid any unnecessary drama.

His anger and jealousy shifted momentarily to hurt as he turned to face you.

"Namjoon and I are here on behalf of our company. We have people to talk to," you said, your voice firm as you tugged Namjoon away with you.

Seokjin drowned his frustrations with a few shots of whiskey, but the word "our" suffocated him. You had never referred to anything belonging to both of you as "ours," yet you said it so effortlessly with Namjoon.

...

The night was a flurry of activity as you and Namjoon engaged in conversations with various interested individuals in the business world. As influential figures and potential partners approached, you showcased your expertise and passion, discussing potential collaborations and exchanging ideas. Namjoon, being your trusted assistant, seamlessly assisted you, adding valuable insights and effortlessly charming those around him.

You felt a sense of pride watching Namjoon interact with confidence and grace, his knowledge shining through in every conversation. His presence by your side not only alleviated some of the pressure but also brought a level of comfort that you hadn't anticipated. It was in these moments that you appreciated the support and camaraderie you shared, even if it was purely professional.

While your interactions with Namjoon were seamless, you couldn't help but notice the absence of Seokjin. As the evening progressed, his absence became more pronounced, amplifying the void between you and your husband. It was a stark reminder of the lack of communication and emotional connection that plagued your marriage.

Namjoon, ever perceptive, noticed the wistful longing in your eyes as you gazed at the dancing couples. Concern etched on his face, he gently approached you, his voice filled with genuine care.

"What's wrong, Y/N?" he asked, his tone gentle yet urging. He wanted you to confront your feelings, to acknowledge the void that had been growing within you.

You took a deep breath, appreciating Namjoon's willingness to listen.

"I miss love... I miss Seokjin..." you admitted softly, the words carrying the weight of your unspoken desires.

A knowing smile tugged at Namjoon's lips as he reassured you.

"I've noticed Seokjin does too, Y/N. He's been watching you the entire night, even when you weren't aware of it."

Surprise flickered across your face. You hadn't realized that Seokjin had been observing you, his gaze fixated on you amidst the crowd. It was a revelation that sparked a mix of hope and apprehension within you.

Namjoon's voice was filled with encouragement as he spoke.

"Y/N, he is your husband, and I believe he likes you more than you realize. I'm sure if you approach him and express your desire to dance, he won't pass up the opportunity, especially when you look as beautiful as you do tonight."

A blush crept onto your cheeks at his compliment, and a genuine smile graced your lips.

"Have I ever told you what a great friend you are, Joonie?"

Namjoon chuckled softly.

"Actions speak louder than words ever could. Now go, Y/N. Take a chance and talk to Seokjin. Trust me, it's worth it."

Though fear and uncertainty lingered in your heart, Namjoon's unwavering support provided the push you needed. With newfound determination, you straightened your posture and mustered the courage to approach Seokjin, who was engaged in conversation with the new investors.

As you weaved through the crowd, anticipation coursed through your veins. You hoped that Namjoon's observations were accurate, that Seokjin had been longing for a connection just as much as you had. The thought emboldened you, dispelling the doubts that threatened to hold you back.

Seokjin turned his head, his eyes meeting yours as you finally stood before him. A mix of surprise and warmth washed over his features, and you saw a flicker of recognition in his gaze. Without a word, you extended your hand, silently conveying your unspoken desire.

His eyes softened, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he took your hand in his.

Seokjin, understanding the significance of the moment, takes a moment to appreciate your beauty. His eyes trace the curves of your dress, the way it hugs your figure perfectly. He can't help but smile, realizing that he hasn't given you a proper compliment tonight.

"You look absolutely stunning, Y/N," he says, his voice filled with sincerity. "I can't believe I didn't say it sooner."

You can't help but giggle at his words, feeling warmth spread through your chest. His compliment feels genuine, and it sparks lightness in your heart that you hadn't felt in a long time. It's as if a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, and you find yourself opening up to the possibility of a renewed connection.

Seokjin takes a step closer, his eyes locked on yours, as he musters the courage to ask, "How is your night going, Y/N?"

You share with him the excitement of the new interest you and Namjoon are receiving from other socialites. The conversations, the connections—it's all been invigorating, and you can't help but feel grateful for the opportunity.

Seokjin's smile widens as he congratulates you. "That's wonderful, Y/N. I'm so proud of you."

You shake your head, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

"No, Seokjin. It's all Namjoon. He's the main attraction tonight."

Seokjin's gaze intensifies as he stares at you intently.

"I'd dare to disagree," he says, his voice filled with a newfound conviction. "You've always been the one who captivates everyone's attention, including mine."

The sincerity in his words takes you by surprise, and your heart skips a beat. It's as if your heart is ready to open itself up with all of the vulnerability that has held you back for so long, now catalyzing the reaction.

...

With the bouquet of flowers sitting on your desk, their vibrant colors filling your office with a touch of beauty, Namjoon walks in and spots them. He smiles warmly and congratulates you on the surprise delivery. All you can do is smile back, your mind filled with Seokjin.

You've had many relationships filled with grand gestures and passionate love, but receiving flowers from your husband, even in the midst of your estranged relationship, feels like a sign of acceptance and a glimmer of hope.

As the workday comes to an end, you return home and notice Seokjin's shoes by the door. It's a rare sight these days, as your schedules often kept you apart. The thought of both of you being home simultaneously sparks a sense of anticipation within you.

A sense of unease washes over you when your cleaner pulls you aside with a concerned expression on her face. She shares with you that Seokjin had returned home earlier, appearing visibly upset and tired. She mentions that he seemed to be in a foul mood and advised you to be careful when approaching him.

A mix of worry and curiosity fills your mind as you thank the cleaner for her honesty. Deciding to seize the opportunity, you make two cups of tea, carefully selecting the blend that Seokjin has always favored. The comforting aroma fills the kitchen, reminding you of the first moments you shared in the past, when the two of you were still trying to appease each other.

Seokjin's gaze lifts from the papers on his desk as he sees you standing at the doorway of his study. A soft smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he adjusts his glasses, and you can't help but notice how handsome he looks with them.

"Hi," you greet him, your voice filled with a mixture of nervousness and hope. "I made you some tea."

A hint of surprise flickers across Seokjin's face before he sets aside his work and gestures for you to come in. "Well, do come in," he says warmly, his eyes never leaving yours.

You step into his study, the faint aroma of freshly brewed tea filling the air. Taking a few steps closer, you carefully place the cup in his hands, cautioning him to be careful as you remind him that it's hot.

Seokjin's fingers curl around the warm cup and he places it on the table, and he looks up at you, his gaze filled with a mix of gratitude and curiosity. "Thank you, Y/n. This is greatly appreciated."

You look around for a place to sit untill you find yourself wrapped in Seokjin's strong embrace, comfortably settled on his lap. The closeness between you ignites a flicker of familiarity and intimacy that you had been yearning for. As he relaxes against you, placing his head at the conjucture of your shoulder and neck, you feel a sense of warmth and security enveloping you.

As you run your fingers through Seokjin's hair, a sense of tenderness and understanding fills the air. You can feel the weight of his burdens slowly easing as he finds solace in your touch. The worries and stress of the outside world seem to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this quiet moment.

You continue to stroke his hair, your touch gentle and soothing. The rhythm of your movements becomes a silent lullaby, calming not only Seokjin but also bringing a sense of peace within yourself. The bond between you feels tangible, as if you're reminding each other of the love that exists beneath the surface.

After a while, Seokjin lifts his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of gratitude and vulnerability. 

"Thank you, Y/n," he whispers softly. "Having you here, reminding me that I'm not alone, it means more than words can express."

A gentle smile graces your lips as you lean in, pressing a tender kiss against Seokjin's forehead. 

"You're never alone, Seokjin. I'm here for you, always."

Seokjin's arms tighten around you, embracing you with a renewed sense of warmth and affection.

"Seokjin, why don't you go to bed? You've been working so hard, and you deserve some rest." you gently suggest, feeling the weight of Seokjin's exhaustion.

Seokjin looks at you, his tired eyes softening with gratitude. He nods, realizing that he needs a break from the demanding world outside. Slowly, you both rise from his lap, your hands still intertwined, and make your way towards his bedroom.

“Stay with me tonight” he pleads you looking at you like you are only star in a dark night sky, his eyes almost filling with tears. You nod silently and give his hand a squeeze.

You slip under the covers beside Seokjin, keeping a safe distance as to not cross a line.

“Is it okay if I come closer?” his voice wavers and all you feel is full-hearted respect coming from him. You wished that you didn’t need to tip toe around each other but the truth was that there was a long way to go, but both of you were willing to get there.

Before he could move closer you curled up against his side your presence bringing a sense of calm and reassurance to Seokjin, melting away the stress and worries that have been weighing him down. The world outside fades into insignificance as you create a cocoon of tranquility within the confines of his bedroom.

Seokjin's tired eyes meet yours, reflecting a mix of gratitude, love, and vulnerability. 

"Thank you, Y/n," he murmurs, his voice filled with sincerity. "You have no idea what having you here…my wife … means to me”

You smile tenderly, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"I know Seokjin.”

He places his hand gently on your cheek and softly kisses your forehead, lips soft as silk remind you of your wedding day and the first, and only, kiss you’ve shared.

As you both surrender to the embrace of sleep, the weight of the day dissipates, and a serene calm washes over you. Wrapped in the comfort of each other's presence, your minds drift into a realm of dreams and possibilities.

[writersundersiege]

Rooster and his Songbird: Part Two the Concert

a/n: Heyy i’m back i’m so sorry that i went literally MIA i have been so sick and have been sleeping more than literally anything im planing on writing more going forward what would you like to see after this chapter?

first part - here

Summary: Jake tries to assert dominance over Bradley, but you may already like Bradley and notice him as much as he does you. But what happens when he's invited to your work playground and meets your enemies?

The next day, Bradley was dead tired; so tired, in fact, in the morning, he had to make himself two coffees, one as he woke up as usual and one to keep him going at work. He didn't even go through with his morning workout and run, simply opting for a little warm-up in his living room.

Every second of sleep lost was worth it, though, with him staying until close at the Hard Deck, bickering back and forth with Jake, and making you laugh; that was probably the best part, making you laugh watching as you’d hide your face cause your laugh was higher toned, and your cheeks would turn a bright red. Still, the best part was how your eyes squinted like you were staring directly into the sun. Bradley kept going even despite the angry quips Jake spit his way.

When Bradley arrived at the base, he saw the parking lot was starting to get full. He quickly parked and got out, heading into the base and up through the hallways to the pre-flight room he had changed before coming to base just in the event he was running behind, and today, to Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw's standards, he was behind. When he entered the room, bag in hand, Phoenix turned to look back at him; she had an empty seat to her right. To her left was Bob, and then Fanboy on his other side in the front.

As Bradley stepped to the seat Phoenix had left open for him, he heard Hangman’s voice low and deadly and felt him check his shoulder, saying, “ Oh, no, you don’t, Bradshaw; step out in the hall now.” Bradley smirked towards the rest of his squad, who had now turned to watch the interaction happen as Jake nearly marched out of the room.

Bradley slowly sets his bag down and turns to walk into the hall, making his face neutral; he knows what’s coming, but he’s not going to tell him anything. Bradley can see you like him, but he’s not going to push it, not with a brother like yours, but if you come to him, then who would he be to break your heart? By the look he gives Bradley the second they come face to face in the hallway, he sees that he, too, knows eventually he’ll have no say.

Before Jake says anything, Bradley says, “I told you last night we were clear I didn’t do anything, so why exactly is it you’ve dragged me out here?” Jake is flexing his fists by his sides while taking a breath. “Don’t play dumb with me, Bradshaw; we’ve been on two deployments together now, and we both know how you are around women, especially ones you want-“Jake stops momentarily. Bradley opens his mouth and says that, once again, he didn’t seek you the whole night; he may have shared looks with you innocently and made you laugh here and there, but is making a human connection a crime now?

Before he can say anything, Jake puts his hand up like a mother shushing a child before he says, “I don’t care to hear any of your reasons, nor do I particularly want you anywhere near her anymore, but you made a good impression on her, and even past my oh so gracious better judgment she wanted me to tell you-“

Jake seems to shiver at what he has to say, which makes a devilish grin grow on Bradley’s face. “She wanted me to say you did an excellent job at the piano; maybe play for the band next weekend if you want? But I already told her you can’t, and you can't get it. I know you like her, Bradshaw; it was disturbingly evident on Friday, but she is the only little sister I’ve got and the baby of the Seresin family; she is not some prize to win and then be forgotten about a few weeks later we both know men like us who love the chase, are not made for girls like my sister I will not let you chase after her like some prize rabbit from the rodeo so drop it now, or I swear to all that is good and holy on this earth I will make every day you see my face a painfully brutal experience for you and to all those around you. Head my warning, Bradshaw, stay away from (F/N). I mean it.”

Ending the conversation before it started, Jake had his back to him already walking back in the room, Rooster following not too far behind and finally picking up his bag and taking his seat with a smile still plastered across his smitten face. Phoenix leaned over, asking, “Are you going to tell me, come on? I’ve been dying to know why he’s so pissed? We all see your googling eyes, but you haven’t made any moves, so what’s up?”

Bradley shakes his head, saying, “Nothing to tell, just Hangman being Hangman.” he says lowly; he could tell Phoenix more now, but how he thinks about you is just for him. He hopes to tell you that when you look at him in the eyes, he sees a fantasy of different things that are never real but feel natural when you look back.

Eventually, all conversations and thoughts are put on the back seat the second Maverick enters the room, everyone hunkering into their seats to review post and pre-flight plans. Bradley sits back in his chair, getting comfortable to listen, eyes wandering the room till they stop on Jake, who's side-eyeing him from the front with fire behind his eyes and a smile across Bradley's face.

As the week went by without any mishaps or Jake breathing down Bradley's neck to try and pry for information, and since meeting you, it feels like Jake won't let Bradley be near you in any sense, even while speaking about you.

By Wednesday, the whole Dagger Squad was talking about an event at the local elementary school; as he walked up to his lunch table where all the whispering was happening, he set his tray between Bob and Phoenix, looking at them quizzically back and forth.

At the same time, he sits down, leaning between the faces that have nearly met in the middle of the table. “Why are we whispering?” Phoenix's face immediately lights up, seeing Bradley. “Roo, did you hear about going to Boots and Buckles Friday? Also, are you going to Paxton tonight?”

Bradley looks back and forth between Bob and Phoenix, frowning as they both look back at him. “What, guys? I just sat down and have been up in the air just like you, so no, I have no idea what's happening Friday, and why would I have any reason to go to Paxton Elementary today?” as he was talking, Bradley started digging into the turkey sandwiches they had prepared for the afternoon.

Although Bradley nearly choked on his food, hearing the quiet voice of Bob rise momentarily to say, “(F/N’s holding a fundraising event for her school tonight. Have you checked your phone? Jake has blasted to everyone he knows on base. It's called We Sing for Heroes. She is the music teacher at the public Elementary school near the base.”

Bradley, by this point, is downing his water, trying to cool down and wash down the food he nearly choked on, pulling his phone from his pocket as his eyes slowly flit back and forth between an almost cowering but laughing Bob and Phoenix, who's smirking right at Bradley, not even letting up. She can see right through and around him about you and the Jake situation.

Finally, when Bradley brings his phone up above his eye level, he looks through his phone to find no text messages, then turns his phone to the two others waiting for his response, sets his water down, and clears his throat. “Jake made it clear he doesn't want me around her. I'm not going, but..” Bradley immediately sets the phone on the table and looks up at Phoenix. “now that I know, will you stop by the house? I'll give you some cash to you for the fundraiser.”

Phoenix looks at him and then at Bob and shakes her head; not much is said in the next few minutes. “Well, you can still come Friday 'cause I'm inviting you, and I'll fight Jake myself if he's got a problem. Plus, it's a public bar, and bands are playing, and it will be fun. I'll need a dance partner anyway.”

“Boots and Buckles, huh? That's the one down Monroe Avenue, Right?” Bradley's mind is turning, trying to decide whether showing up will cause more drama with Jake than usual.

Then, like a flash all at once, Bradley can see you standing on the Hard Deck stage, hair bouncing from side to side, smiling wide as your gentle voice carries over the mesmerized crowd. The last thing flashing past is the glint in your eyes and smirk when you see him talking to Jake, immediately saying, “Okay, 7 pm sounds like an ideal time?” the whole table, looking back and forth to each other, smirking.

Later in the evening, at around 5, Bradley is sitting on his couch in a pair of sweats and an old academy shirt; he'd just popped open a beer when he heard banging at his front door, which had to be no one other than Phoneix he runs into the kitchen grabbing a pen envelope and wallet before heading to the door that she's still banging like the swat team on “I'm coming to Nat chill your shit.”

When Bradley swings the door open, he has the pen in his mouth, eyes trained on writing your name nicely when he hears Phoenix clear her throat. His eyes come up to the pen, dropping to the ground cause standing in front of him was not only Phoenix but Jake leaning on the wall to the right of his door opposite Phoenix. He looks up, meeting eyes with Bradley smirking, and then immediately going cold “Get Dressed, Dumb-ass.”

Hangman was already on his heels back to Bradley and Phoenix, who gave Bradley a cheeky smile until the breath finally seemed to return to Bradley's lungs, and he looked to Phoenix, who stood there still, just smiling, saying, “What?”

Eventually, Phoenix grabbed Bradley by the shoulder, pushing him back into his house, saying, “Hurry and put your flight suit on or something that represents the Squad or Navy in any way.” Bradley slowly walked through his home as he heard Phoenix call, “Also fix your hair. It looks like an explosion happened in your shower, and you've gone mad scientist; it's not your look.”

He quickly paces to his room, looking into the mirror from the spot by the dresser; he opens a drawer and grabs an old navy sweatshirt that belonged to his dad, tugging on a blue long-sleeved pullover, seeing his hair stick all which ways, and quickly running to the ensuite bathroom, wetting his hair to lay primarily flat and wavy like it usually would. After buttoning his jeans and spraying cologne, he grabs the watch that used to be his dad's from the nightstand.

Walking into the living room, he sees Phoenix holding his checkbook and pen, and the beer is gone. The TV turned off the front blinds down. “C’mon, slowpoke, it's starting at 5:30. It's only a few minutes from here, but still, we only have 15 minutes now.” Bradley meets her at the door, grabbing his keys from the hook behind the door.

He was finally taking a breath. “What's going on? Where am I going, and why is Jake here?” she smiles, handing the envelope to Bradley and moving from the threshold so he can lock up, tucking the book in his back pocket. She looks back at Jake's truck parked on the street, who's leaning out the window, glaring right at Bradley.

“Well, I may or may not have said something about how you did not get the invite to (F/N); she was appalled, she said to her brother, and I literally quote, birds of a feather flock together if Bradleys not there, then we're missing a key piece of our flock Jake she also appreciated your unknowing help in an idea of a song for her kids to sing she wants you to see it.”

This makes Bradley smile, and they both jump, hearing Jake yell from his truck. “All this bird watching is getting old. If we don't get out of here, we'll be late.” They make their way down the porch. Bradley turns to Phoenix. “He’ll kill me with his eye if I go with you guys. I'll meet there, plus I need to grab something.”

After stopping at a nearby farmer's market, Bradley pulls the Bronco into the first spot in the back of the school parking lot and rushes in through the doors and down the hall to the gym where their stage is.

When he walks through the doors, he sees you standing in the cutest dress he's ever seen on anyone. It looks vintage, like a 50’s style dress that's Navy with a white stripe going down both sides of your hips and bow tied around your torso, smiling and waving your arms directing as a group of older girls sings.

They were singing Amazing Grace beautifully. He leans on the wall next to the row where Phoenix and the rest of the Dagger Squad sat, sitting in all the seats. The rest of the seats were the children, family, and friends.

When Phoenix notices him leaning on the wall with flowers pointed at the ground, staring at you, he doesn't even see the burning of Jake's eyes into him; Phoenix elbows Hangman in the ribs, sid-eyeing him and pointing her eyes to you. This makes Jake huff and turn back forward.

Bradley is entranced by the smile you have finishing the song and turning to put your arm out and present your choir and bow. At the same time, the crowd claps and cheers for their children. Then your eyes meet, and your smile widens even more. You walk to the microphone and address the families

“Parents and Guardians, Family and Friends of the students, first of all, thank you for supporting our music program tonight. As you know, we are raising money to be able to attend our end-of-year festival. The kids are ecstatic it is taking place in San Diego, but it's at a hotel for the whole weekend, so we still need some adult chaperones for those who have time.”

Suddenly, the most petite little boy standing on the bleachers came running to you and wrapped himself in your leg, tugging the hem of your dress. You look down, slightly startled, kneeling to the boy, letting him tug your face to his ear so he can whisper to you. You giggle and say something to the little boy

“Well, as Sebastian said, may the show go on; we will end our night with a little call out to our musical heroes among the crowd. Thank you for serving our country; nothing could be nobler than what you've chosen to do. We want to thank you guys by showing you a little piece the kids helped me choose for you. So this last piece is for any service members in the crowd.” As you step back and to the side, your kids shout Thank you and wave and have another round of applause from their parents, whistling and shouting, making their kids excited like they are exchanging engines with the crowd.

Your eyes meet Bradley's while this happens, almost as if you were talking directly to him the whole time. He inhales deeply, trying to calm himself as you return, standing in front of the massive group of kids on the risers.

As the music begins, he sees a young man, not much older than you, stepping onto the stage with a trumpet. He smiles and winks at you, and you nod at the pianist he noticed as Noah from the Hard Deck Bradley starts to chuckle, knowing exactly what song you chose after he serenaded you at the Hard Deck last weekend. 

You smile as the kids sing, showing them the adorable hand gestures accompanying the song, which he knows as Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy. The kids sound small, but by the end of the song, after the fantastic trumpet solo performed by the young man on the trumpet, the whole crowd was clapping, singing, whistling, and calling out to their kids.

When the song finishes, you walk to the side and gesture to the trumpet player, who bows and then to you, whistling and shouting as you take one more bow and gesture to Noah, who waves at the clapping and cheering crowd. Bradley did a whistle for you, which made your head whip his way with a huge smile; you quickly ran to the microphone.

“Friends and Family, please meet all the performers in the main hallway. Thank you so much for coming, and if you still want to donate, our boosters will be at a table in the hall!” Immediately, kids dispersed towards the exits, families slowly getting up and shuffling out of the gymnasium.

Bradley makes his way to the stage when a grip stops him. He knows and knows well, but right as he's turning to Jake, he sees the young man who played the trumpet, stopping you halfway down the stairs by grabbing your elbow. This makes Bradley immediately jerk his arm, which in turn makes both men stare daggers at the man who you seem to try to be pulling away from.

Once the men reach earshot, they hear you saying, “I know I didn't tell you, but that's not my fault, James. He is my family…” That's when he makes eye contact with a very angry-looking Bradley and Jake staring back at him. He lets go, and you turn. “Rooster, you made it.” you came barreling down the stairs and jumping in his arms. He wraps his arms around you, squeezing tightly and hesitantly stepping back.

Bradley holds out the bouquet of wildflowers he had put together at the market, which makes your face light up. “Thank you, Bradley, so much. I have to appear to families, but I'll be back.”

That being said, you reach up on your tiptoes, gently kiss him on his cheek, and scurry through the doors the families had gone. When Bradley looks back to Jake, he glares into the darkness or the wings of the stage, grumbling, “Coward walked right off when we came up. I don't like that guy Bradshaw. I may not like you, but that makes me even worse.”

Bradley shakes his head, looking to see anything as well, then turns to Jake, but he puts his hand up. “Don't I know you're going to try and explain yourself, and please don't. Just don't be an idiot,” he turns, coming chest to chest with Bradley. “Or I will know Bradshaw.”

Before Bradley can say anything, Jake turns and is nearly stomping back towards the Daggers, who are helping to reset the seats with a few teachers and Noah. They are smiling, some guys are flirting with younger teachers there, and Phoenix and Bob are messing around and pushing each other. He starts to make his way toward them when he hears giggling, and a young-sounding girl clears her throat, which makes him immediately turn on his heel toward her.

When he comes face to face with a short blonde girl standing shyly now in front of a group of other girls who are whispering and giggling to each other, he clears his throat, saying, “Hello, young ladies, uh, what may I do for you?” the girl in front of him looks down then finally after one of the girls in the back pipes up saying “just ask him Maxie he's nice!”

Bradley kneels to her eye level, realizing his height on the girls. Having not been around many children, being in the service doesn't give him many opportunities to be around them, but he loves them. When he finally meets eyes with the young girl, he smiles, saying, “What's this question I'm hearing all about?”

She smiles and says, “Can you help us roll the risers off stage? Their heavy. Mr. Nelson left. Miss.S usually has him help us.” Bradley, at this point, lets the little girl grab by the hand to have the group drag him to the stage. He looks behind him to find you finally standing back in the gym, laughing at him with Phoenix. All the little girls bombard him with questions like how tall he is, if he fights in planes with Miss.S’s brother, Why he’s called Rooster.

Then, finally, one little curly red-headed girl makes his feet come to a halt from pushing the risers into the wings when she yells out, “Are you, Miss. S’s boyfriend?” Bradley immediately shakes his head, but a woman clears her throat with a sincere but stern look, saying, “Girls, your parents are waiting.” she points to a group of parents leaning on walls waiting for their students.

The girls rush off, giggling and whispering as Bradley tries to straighten himself out and look less flustered, turning to her smiling face. “You are a real natural, aren’t you?” she says, laughing slightly, looking him up and down, walking towards the piano, and grabbing a binder. “I honestly don’t have a lot of experience with kids. I also wasn’t sure if I was invited tonight.”

When her head whips around, she looks completely shocked. “oh really, I can’t imagine any reason why you wouldn’t be,” she laughs. “so, who did you come for? Did the rest of your team drag you along?” Bradley kindly smiles but stands with his hands in his pockets

By the way, this woman is looking at him. He can tell by how she keeps licking her lips and looking him up and down; he shakes his head. “I came for F/- Miss. Seresin.” The smile on the woman’s face seems to fade immediately as he almost says your name, but she quickly recovers, throwing on the cheesiest smile he’s ever seen.

“Oh, how lovely. So you must be Carter, right?” the girl turns her head to the side in a question that makes Bradley furrow his eyebrows for a moment, looking at her, shaking his head, sticking his hand out, saying, “Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw.” At this point, the woman had met Bradley in the middle of the stage, and she grabbed his hand, pulling herself closer to him and smiling, saying in what may be described as a sultry voice, “Missus Lacy Smith.”

After dropping her hand, he steps back from the woman to avoid being nearly chest-to-chest. “I'm here 'cause I fly with Jake.” The woman's head turns to look towards where he pointed to the Dagger Sqaued in a group, laughing to see you standing with your brother's arm around you.

She shakes her head and begins to say, “So, Luetenient Bradshaw, what are your plans for the rest of the evening?” At this point, Bradley can tell she is flirting with the batting of her eyelashes and smiling like the Cheshire cat. He is speechless simply from the pure forwardness and outward distains she's shown so far, tripping over his words before he hears Jake calling from the group, “Rooster, get your lady friend, and let's go. We're meeting at the Hard Deck.”

Bradley's head immediately shoots the group's way to see you standing next to Phoenix, arms linked. The bouquet of wildflowers is gone from your person, meaning you either got rid of them or you hopefully left them in your classroom, which he felt unlikely of now, feeling the presence of earlier moving in closer to grasp his arm and looking up at him “Rooster that's so cute why do they call you that?” he moves back ungrasping her hand from his arm “just my call sign name I have to get going though it's was nice meeting you…” he trails off a moment.

She gave him a small and fake smile, saying, “Lacy, you can just call me Lacy.” With a nod, he said, “Nice to meet you,” he turned on his heels, running down to the group and making his way straight to you and Phoenix. As he makes a beeline for you, Jake goes to stop him, but Nat intercepts, and when he makes it to you, finally after what feels like forever.

You are smiling down at your shoes, and he is finally in front of you when he eventually says, “I loved the music. Your classes are very talented, but everything you do amazes me.” This small endearment makes you chuckle and look up. “I'm glad you enjoyed a lot of the kiddos have dads leaving for deployments soon, so it's a nice way to show we care.”

This makes Bradley smile. “Your student seems to know me.” he immediately notices the blush rise on your cheeks, and you start to pull on the hem of the dress. “I may have mentioned you a few times since I heard you play that Jerry Lewis song with Noah. You're just way better at the piano than I am.”

Before he can say anything else, the whole Dagger squad is near the hallway doors. Phoenix yells back to them, “C’mon, love birds, you can conversate when we have drinks in our hands and music in our ears.” “Let's go, Birdie,” Jake yells, waiting at the door threshold. You hurriedly skip past Bradley right under your brother's arm, and Bradley follows close behind, smile on his face.

[rabbit-reveries]

— 𝑷eace

“All these people think love's for show

But I would die for you in secret

The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me

Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?”

It seems hard to believe it now, but there were days before the war when you and Aemond were friends. The best of friends. When was it that he became a Green and you became a Black? you wonder. Against your best judgment and your parents' wishes, you are now lovers in secret. 

Day after day, it gets harder and harder to maintain your relationship. You love Aemond, but being with him is betraying your family and yourself. Navigating this conflict and this connection is exhausting. All you've ever wanted was peace. — A story, from how it came to be to how it ended.

Pairing: Aemond x Targaryen!Reader

Tags: Childhood Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Angst, Hurt and Comfort, Multichapter Fic.

Warnings: None in this chapter

Word Count: 2.6k

Chapter 1 : Bloom Later

You remember being a young girl in your grandsire's court; eyes seemed to follow you everywhere you went. It felt like you could not afford to ever make a mistake. You could not. As Rhaenyra Targaryen's eldest child - and a girl, no less - there were whispers about your every move. "There goes she, the 'strong' princess," they would say when they thought you couldn't hear. You would wonder what they'd meant by that but would never find anyone willing to explain. You did not consider yourself particularly strong, much more interested in books and playing in the gardens than roughhousing with the boys and their weapons.

You remember Aemond as a young boy, so bright and shy, used to being cast aside for Aegon to the point he went about as a ghost haunting his own home. You remember how alive he was when you would sit with him in the library and listen to his rambles about old Valyria and dragons, though. He'd chase after you in the Red Keep's halls, and when no one else was around, he'd let you braid and weave flowers through his silver-blonde hair. "White carnations," you'd say, incorporating the blossoms to the do, and he'd nod as if he had any idea of what it meant. Once, his mother caught you alone in the garden maze with white camellia crowns, and you remember he never again allowed you to play with his hair. Alicent hated you and your siblings: you could tell, even at a young age.

You remember your brothers taunting Aemond about being dragon-less. You remember being ten years old when your mother tried to make amends with the Queen by offering to wed you to Aegon, then five and ten. Your only option was to accept such a fate, but you were terrified of the boy and ran crying to your best friend. You remember well how he held your hands and promised you he'd become a great man, an even greater dragon rider, and he'd wed you himself. He'd protect you from his brother, he promised. Copying what he'd read in books, you two used the small dagger he kept attached to the hip to cut your bottom lips and perform a makeshift wedding ceremony in the maze. Orange blossoms and white roses, you remember.

Then, not many days later, dark crimson and marigolds. You were a bastard, you learned, and your true father was dead in a fire, as was your aunt Laena. You were only allowed to grieve publicly for one of them, crying in your mother's lap while she made up stories about you and your aunt being close. The same night of the funeral, orange lily, yellow hyacinth, and so many geraniums.

You were there to see Aemond lose his eye by your brother's hand. The hate in his face when he questioned your lineage; when he held up a rock to attack Jace; when he was down bleeding and found you there, paralyzed. The guards you called tried to help him stand while you did nothing but stare. "I promised you I'd protect you from my brother. Why did you not protect me from yours?" he asked. You didn't know how to answer. You remember Aemond so well, but that moment never fit in with the rest of the puzzle pieces that formed his image in your head. You remember Aemond very well, and he was never the same.

-

Back to the Red Keep after six years, you catch yourself looking for silver-blonde hair everywhere. Every time you think you might have seen him, you didn't, and when you do see him, he feels like someone else. Aemond is impossibly taller, sharper, and alien. You are right in front of him; he could be anywhere else. You struggle to meet his eye, and it's like you are the ghost this time, haunting a home you don't belong to. He stares at you in silence.

"Aemond, say hello to princess Y/N." Alicent nudges him, stern as you remember.

"Hello, niece."

His tone is mocking and dry of emotion. You feel stupid for expecting some warm welcome from your former best friend after half a decade gone. Did you... Did you perhaps imagine all of your moments together? The afternoons spent reading to him, all the flowers he brought you without knowing the meaning, only because he knew you'd like them... You remember it all, so why now is he like this...? Are you really dead to him? You force yourself to snap out of it and present him with a smile.

Niceties done, your mother makes up an excuse to retire. You give them a sorry grin as if it is truly unfortunate that you have to take your leave of their presence, and Alicent mirrors you the best she can. Both of you know every second of the exchange was torture, but it is the fortune of women to pretend. You used to wonder why but realized it is easier to accept and bear it than to spend your time moaning and questioning. Before you turn to the door, a hand catches your arm, and you half expect it to be Aemond's. Instead, you find Helaena, who lets go of you as if your skin is poison.

"Sorry." she says and bites her lip like she really is "I wondered if we could take a stroll around the garden together. Would you accompany me?"

You sneak a look at Alicent, who stares at her daughter like she's gone mad. You figure that isn't too foreign to Helaena since she doesn't even react to it.

"Yes, of course."

"Thank you." she all but beams and takes your arm.

Helaena is quite different from what you remember, and at the same time, she hasn't changed a thing. She is a year younger than you, barely five and ten, with twin children of her own, and by her big eyes, you can tell she's still very much a child herself. In the gardens, she tells you about different types of bugs and encourages you to hold the insects in your hand. In fear of insulting her, you nod along and swallow your disgust when she places a centipede in your palm.

"Now that I look at it, it isn't so frightening..." you muse.

Helaena seems thrilled to hear. "It's not frightening at all! It's quite fascinating, actually, but not many are willing to appreciate the little things." she says. "I knew you would, though."

You two were good friends once, weren't you? When you were little, you used to play with dolls together, creating all sorts of stories. Sometimes she would gather a handful of bugs, line them up and pretend you two were their Septas. She'd spend hours telling you about insect trivia, and you'd teach her about flowers. White rosebuds and iris. You grin at her and leave the centipede on the leaf of a nearby bush.

"I missed you, you know." she says "Being alone with my brothers... Aemond pays me company sometimes, but he mostly spends his day training and riding Vhagar. Aegon... I thought maybe he'd be kinder to me once we were married, but that's my fault for being foolish."

Your heart aches. You can't begin to imagine how lonely it must have felt. Helaena sent you a raven when you had just gotten to Dragonstone, but you were mad at Aemond and so hurt that you never replied. You reach to take her hand.

"I missed you too."

Helaena looks up at you, smiling. She'd never been missed before. "You did? I did not think you would."

"I did! Dragonstone was nice, and I love my brothers, but I missed having a girlfriend. And I missed you, specifically." it's true. It's a shame you let your anger towards her brother nip your friendship.

The blonde is surprised by your confession, pleasantly so. "I figured you'd miss Aemond since you were always so close... I thought there was no space for me."

"Nonsense." You pull her into a hug, but she doesn't seem very used to it, so you settle for holding her hands. You two continue walking, arm in arm. You really did miss her.

"He missed you too." she says after a moment of silence. You immediately know who she's talking about, although you pretend not to. You say nothing. "The book you left about the language of the flowers, he took it. He must've read it a thousand times."

"It's good that Aemond tried to learn new things." you say, eyes on the birds in the sky.

"He did it because it reminded him of you."

"And yet it seems that he has forgotten. You were there, you saw how he ignored me." You are hurt but try to appear absentminded out of pride. You expected him to hug you and spin you off the ground - or to acknowledge your presence, at the very least.

"He didn't ignore you. He's just bad with emotions." his sister reassures. You remember him having a hard time expressing himself when he was a boy, but he'd always find a way to overcome his limitations somehow when it came to you. "I'm sure if you went to him..."

You shake your head "Absolutely not. He should come to me."

Helaena tries to convince you some more, but you are stubborn. Not much time passes before a servant calls the two of you to supper with the King.

-

It is your first time seeing your grandsire in a long time. He looks like a feeble whisper of the man you remember. Shaken, you search your mother's hand, but she isn't sitting close to you, and you grab the closet person's instead. With shock, you realize it is Aemond's. He says nothing, and you say nothing. You let go of him, trying to not let it show how his touch burns your skin. Under the table, you flex your hand, trying to get rid of the feeling.

Aegon talks to you briefly, an insulting comment you try hard not to understand. He soon turns his attention to Baela and Rhaena, probably to enrage your brothers. Unfortunately, he's just as you remembered.

Tension is high and rising. Jace gets up from the table causing your heart to speed up, anticipating a fight. Thankfully, the King intervenes and makes a toast, then your mother and the Queen follow. You relax in your chair, thinking you might go to sleep regarding the day to have been peaceful. You only ever wanted peace. Aegon toasts, though you try not to pay attention, and then Helaena.

"To Baela and Rhaena, they will be married soon! It isn't so bad, mostly he just ignores you. Except sometimes when he's drunk. And to Y/N, who will be wed before any of us knows it."

She sits down again, and you send her a quizzical look. What did she mean by that? You were hardly an old maid, and in no hurry to marry.

"Thank you, aunt, for the lovely wishes." you say when it comes to your turn to pay a tribute. "I wish to toast to my grandsire, King Viserys, who kept the realm stable for decades and made his name as The Peaceful. I only wish to be half the ruler you are."

They clap and get back to eating. You notice Jace asking Helaena for a dance, a bit of confusion in your frown. He was never that interested in her, not even when you were children. "Well," you think "as long as it's all in good fun". Turning back to watch them dance, you see they seem to be enjoying themselves. You sigh in relief. All the conflict you were exposed to growing up made your anxiety high in the face of stress. Unfortunately, the same can't be said about other members of your family. Your brothers, for example, seem to have a knack for provoking others.

Half the feast goes by with the cheeriest tone the Targeryans are capable of - meaning you are able to chat with the other ladies, and neither your mother nor your brothers are being threatened or threatening anyone. You look up from your plate to see your grandsire coughing and wailing in pain. In a matter of seconds, the Queen orders the guards to take him to his quarters. She seems worried but not unused to it.

All of a sudden the meal in front of you does not seem so appetizing. You want to excuse yourself, but it'd be rude to leave the table when there is still food being served, and your mother looks like she needs you there more than ever. As the eldest, you feel like you have no place to complain. Sat in front of you, you hear Luke's giggle, and realize a roasted pig has been set on the table, right in front of Aemond. No, not the Pink Dread again. You are so tired. "Fuck." you mutter under your breath.

You think Aemond was only waiting for your cue to get up, his eye set on you as he raises his goblet. He turns to Luke and Jace, a viper ready to strike. "Final tribute. To the health of my niece and nephews: Y/N, Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them talented, wise... Strong. Let us drain our cups to these four Strong princes and princess."

He drinks, a poisonous grin on his lips. You are insulted, you are betrayed. You expected him to at least keep it civil.

"I dare you to say that again." Jace challenges. From what you know of your brother, he's about ready to throw a punch.

"Why? 'Twas only a compliment."

"You know perfectly well it was not." you accuse, tears of anger in your eyes.

"Do you not think yourself Strong, my lady?" you hear Aemond ask, that grin directed at you. Jace punches him straight in the jaw, and you are sure that if he hadn't, you would. Luke gets up from his seat to help, you think, but Aegon stops him. You, in turn, get up to push him off your brother. A guard grabs you by the waist and lifts you off the ground.

"Get off me!" you squeal, but he only lets you go when you are on the other side of the room, painting and held off from jumping on either of the silver-haired brothers. Aemond says something else, you didn't quite hear it, but it's enough to have you fighting the hold of the guard.

To your surprise, your mother's husband, Daemon, gets involved. "Wait, wait!" he says, and you obey. Your mother then orders you and your siblings to head to your quarters. Alicent's boys are free to do as they please, you see. With the corner of your eye, you catch Helaena crouched in a corner of the dining room.

You go back fuming to your chamber. Gods, all you want is to have peace! Is that so hard? Is it such a sin to be tired of deaths and bloodshed? You begin to tug at the strings holding your dress together, trying to be set free from the heavy fabrics without the help of your handmaiden, when you hear a loud knock on the door. Outside, a vase of forget-me-nots and a note.

You immediately know what it means. Dress half undone and half a mind made to throw the vase out of the window, you bring the items inside. Forget-me-nots, you can't believe it. Does he think he can treat you in whatever way he wants and then send you flowers? You're unsure what to make of the mixed signals. You open the note, if only in hopes of better understanding what is happening. It read:

“Meet me in the maze at the hour of the owl.

- A”

[blackwolfflame]

Why Wriothesley and Neuvillette go to Inazuma for holidays.

Traveler is called Thomas/Tom in this fic, but he is still Aether. Tom is his human name, because he's kinda based off of me personality wise.

The marriage was a couple weeks ago. The ten of them kept the ceremony small, with only Thomas' twin sister and older brother, Baizhu's daughter employee Qiqi, the Arataki Gang, the Fortress' head nurse Sigewinne, and the Kamisato siblings as guests.

Dispite Neuvillette and Wriothesley's pleads to go somewhere other than Fontaine for the honeymoon, due to Itto's history of antics, that ruled out Liyue and Inazuma. Kaeya didn't want to go to Mondstadt, because he works there every day, and the same was said for Kaveh and Al Haitham in Sumeru.

So, here they were, walking the streets of Fontaine.

Of course, Thomas was being mindful of what everyone was saying. One slip of the tongue, and-

"Hide!" Thomas hissed, pushing everyone into the alleyway. "Tom? What's going on?" Al Haitham asked, suspicious. "It's Charlotte." He said, and Neuvillette tensed while Wriothesley sighed. "Again? It's like she's stalking us..." Wriothesley looked at Neuvillette, who nodded. "Who's Charlotte? Why is she so bad that we have to hide from her?" Gaming questioned, as Thomas glanced around. "She's not bad, just... too nosey, that's all." Kaeya laughed at Thomas' hesitation. "My my, the Traveler, the Duke of Meropide, and the Chief Justice are all terrified by a simple reporter?" "Kae, she's crazy! She tried to get me to blab all of Wrio's secrets to her after I was in the Fortress on a missing person case!" Thomas snapped. "Thomas, please calm down..." Baizhu said softly. He never liked conflict, especially between his partners.

"Guys...?" Kaveh looked around, nervously. "Where's Itto?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The very next day, The Steambird's headline was 'Chief Justice and Duke of Meropide Married in a Polycule of 10?!' and the front page was plastered with pictures from the wedding, that Charlotte had obtained from Itto.

What followed for the last days of their honeymoon were inappropriate questions, rude comments, and judgmental stares. Of course, Itto was apologetic. He didn't know that Charlotte was going to publish his ramblings to the newspaper, he just thought someone wanted to hear how The One And Oni, Arataki Itto, had gotten nine fantastic husbands from different nations.

Let's just say, Wriothesley and Neuvillette prefer to go to Inazuma for holidays now...

@jammyjams1910 @just-an-emily-existing @selfshipper-alex

[dreadfutures]

“ kiss me again, but don’t stop this time. “

For @dadrunkwriting!

Pairing: Ixchel Lavellan & Dirthamen (#sunbird, elvhenan au)

-:-:-

A yawn strikes Dirthamen so deeply, Ixchel thinks she can see his back teeth from across the room. He is doing a very poor job of keeping up appearances, and while she has full trust in his ability to gather the intelligence he needs—he is the god of secrets and lord of spies—she cannot help how her nerves jangle. This night hinges on him playing the role of the Evanuris, of princeling, after all, and to her that means dancing, laughing gaily at stupid quips, and flirting with other party goers.

Then again, when had that ever been Dirthamen?

Ixchel heaves a sigh at herself, mostly, and continues watching him from across the hall. She does not quite understand why, or what, he is fishing for. She understands that she is kept in the dark for her safety, and to keep up her own pretenses of being an ignorant enigma. She had been offered the option of hiding away in one of Dirthamen's hidden rooms while the party raged on, but she knew as well as he that her presence around the party was expected, and her absence would be noticed. Even now, hours and hours into the party, she is still ogled at by attendees.

Deceit is her Keeper tonight, whisking her away whenever the observations grew too pointed or invasive. The demon has tried to keep her in good spirits, making sharp observations and playfully scathing judgments about other party-goers. But Ixchel has been far too busy watching Dirthamen to enjoy the distraction, and Deceit rolled their eyes and muttered something under their breath before lapsing into silence and letting her stare uninterrupted.

Maybe it's conspicuous, but she can't help herself. She so rarely sees him dressed like this—like a god. Of course his daily garb is fine, and nothing he owns is not a luxury. But the raiment he wears as one of Elvhenan's eldest sons is a feast for the eyes she cannot resist.

He is dark where others are bright, but he is not the dangerous, inky shadow that his brother is. Where the red coral of Falon'Din's adornments could have been like fire, taking after their patriarch, he instead somehow turns them to blood alone by virtue of the black he wears. The Evanuris of Sacrifice is as deadly as his sister, but where Andruil's aggression is apparent in her every step, Falon'Din hides it behind his fine black clothes. Ever his mirror, Dirthamen's silver and turquoise instead lift him out of the shadows. Every time he turns his head, his circlet and his earrings catch the light and draw Ixchel's eye; hidden in his raven hair are traces of blue, rainbows nested in the raven feathers if one knew where and how to look.

And then there is his smile, which is finally directed at her.

As their golden eyes lock, she is immediately gripped by the sensation of being pulled. It is as though he moves the whole building around them to bring them together, rearranging gravity itself to bring her before him. His breath is heavy with wine on her face as he slings an arm around her waist and pulls her close.

"Vun'ean," he says with warmth and cheer in his voice, "how does the night treat you?"

Before she can answer, he has tilted his head and captured her lips in a searing kiss. She squirms in his embrace, mindful of the party-goers all around them, and pushes him away. "My lord," she splutters, "I am fine. Good. Let me go before someone notices!"

"Notices what?" he asks, blinking down at her with owl-like eyes round with surprise. "Oh!"

He chuckles and has the grace to look slightly sheepish. "No one can see us, vun'ean. This is…not real."

The disappointment in his voice is real, and heat rises in her face. "But…there are many people," she protests.

"An illusion," he says gently. "I need to know if someone approaches me while we speak. This is nothing more than a spell, a momentary link between our minds." A smile tugs at his lips, and he pulls her closer again. Her hands come up to rest on his chest, but she does not push him away as he stoops again. "It seems we were thinking about the same things, Ixchel," he whispers. "So kiss me again, and don't stop this time. Quickly, before I am called away again."

[mypassionsarenysins]

disremembered.

Past!Steve Rogers x Reader, Bruce Wayne x Reader. 

Summary: Steve Rogers had lived his life, it was only fair for you to live yours right?

Author’s Note: okay so another crossover and for this I’m thinking of Christian Bale batman, so read at your discretion. It’s also a lil sad and some happy parts. Thank you to @stuckonjbbarnes @honeyloverogers and @buckysmischief

Steve stared at the roof looking at the white pristine celling. 

He waited for the other person on the other side of the room to finish with her nightly routine. 

He kept staring at the ceiling closing his eyes and for a brief moment he felt you.

His mind had the ability of taking him back to that night, the moment he decided to leave her. Trying to conquer an illusion, a fleeting moment of what should have been. 

His mind told him to do it, but his heart. 

His heart was the most unforgiving part of himself that never really let it go. 

And now here he is age clear on his face, wrinkles in his one youthful hands that made you laugh, that held you when you cried, now old and lonely. 

He had everything he was looking for, or so he thought. 

A knock on the door interrupted his thought making Steve get up from the bed looking outside the window as he makes his way to the front door. 

He opens the door smiling at the man on the other side who had his infamous frown plastered on his face. 

“Come in please,” Steve motions to the living room but the man on the other side doesn’t make a move, for a moment it looks like he could burn at the mere thought of walking through the door. 

“No,” the man says anger written clear on his features. 

“Bucky you’ve been here before,” Steve motions with pleading eyes, but Bucky stays unmoving. 

“You really think I wouldn’t know that Scott wouldn’t tell us what you wanted to do,” Bucky says as he gets more and more exasperated. 

“It’s not what you think,” Steve please as he closes the door and walks to the porch Bucky leaving as much distance as possible. 

“No it’s much worse,” Bucky says. 

“Sam and I receive this call from Scott saying that you met to get back to the past to get back to her.” Bucky says. 

“You already lived your life Steve, you have a wife, kids, and grandkids.” Bucky motions at the house. 

The house that he build but thought of you in every detail, when Peggy would ask about why he would say. 

“Because its meant to be that way.”

She never really mentioned it again but the essence of her was in the house of all time. 

From the constant need to have sunflowers in the kitchen because, 

“Steve if there is gonna be flowers in the kitchen its gonna be sunflowers.” You said softly as you unwrapped the bright flowers from the brown paper.

Or how he still kept the little folded handkerchief you embroided because, 

“That is more your style Steve.” You said softly as you stand on your toes and kiss him softly on the lips.

After all those years Steve could still see you, feel you, and on some night he can almost touch you. 

“Bucky I don’t think you understand, this, this is meant to be hers,” Steve says looking up at the house that took him a good decade yo built.

When Peggy asked him why the changes to the house he was never brave enough to admit that the house never felt his and Peggy’s, he always felt this should’ve been your house with him. 

“This is not her house Steve! She already has a home,” Bucky says accentuating each word he said. 

“Her home, with her fiancé” Bucky said louder coming face to face to the man in front of him. 

The words surprised Steve more than it should. He knew he had no right to complain at this point. You were free the moment he left her, he assumed you would move forward, but he felt the slight betrayal in his core. 

But who was Steve to judge when he was the first one to move forward. 

Still that voice in the back of his mind that always brought you up was, angry, to say the least. 

Steve takes a deep breath and takes a seat over the rocking chairs on the front porch. Another touched you where enamored by. 

“Steve, when we get our house he have to put rocking chairs in the front porch.” You said sternly yet a smile shone on your face. 

“Why is that sweetheart?” Steve ask as serially as he can with you sitting on his lap. 

“Because I know we are growing old together, and you of all people should know that people of a certain age like rocking chairs on the porch, old man.” You say that last part and leap out of his lap running away you giggles is all that can be heard in the apartment as Steve laughs and runs after you. 

“Tell me about it,” Steve motions to the chair, but Bucky stays still.

“Steve you just have to let it go,” Bucky tries to appeal Steve but he knows it’s a lost cause. 

Bucky sighs and sits on the step on the porch, his back turned to Steve as he recalls the news and everything that lead up to it. 

“She actually left New York a couple of weeks after you left,” Bucky recalls with sadness on his eyes. 

Bucky remembers how betrayed he felt, you where leaving him, just like Steve. Of course now he realizes it was for the best, but at the moment, he had a different mind set. 

“You are gonna leave me to? Huh? My so called new sister, just gonna walk away like him?” Bucky yells angry as you turn to him shocked face and tears on your eyes. 

“You don’t get to compare what happened,” You drop the box in your hands and sob. Your sobs clear Bucky’s head for a minute. 

“Steve left us Bucky, he left to follow his dreams, I am allowed to try to move forward!” You yell from the place on the floor as you hug your knees. 

Bucky slowly approaches you realizing that this is bigger than he could’ve ever imagined. He realized in that moment that he was supposed to be Steve’s past, but you, you that opened you life to him. 

You so soft and tender, never an ounce of judgment or regret of letting him in. 

You that tenderly took care of him, welcome him into your home, and called him your brother to anyone who would listen. 

You where supposed to be Steve’s future. 

And now all you both had left was the whole Steve Rogers left. 

“Don’t cry petal, I’m sorry,” He says tenderly as he reaches for you slowly. 

“Do you think that I want to leave my home. My whole life behind.” You say as you calm down and look at Bucky with sadness, but love for him. 

“I know Steve left you too, but you can come with me to Gotham. “ you say as you look at him with determination. 

“But New York is my home,”  Bucky tries to reason. 

“But it’s bit mine anymore,” You say softly as you hold his hand. 

“I am always here Bucky, I just can’t be here anymore.” You motion at the left overs of you heart. 

“I know I am just afraid,” Bucky rest his head on your shoulder. 

“I know but I am you sister James Barnes,” you say determination clear in his voice. 

“ Also someone’s gotta keep an eye on Sam, he’s your responsibility now you know? Handling Captan Americas’. That should be you new name.” You joke making Bucky laugh. 

“Alright let’s finish this before the pigeon arrives and see us sad. He can stand people being sad, he always has to be so happy and sunshine-y.” Bucky says as he stands up and hold his hand out for yours. 

You smile up at him as he hold you up he envelops his arms around you hugging you desperately. 

“Thank you, for being here, I am really going to miss you,” he says softly. 

“I am always here, never forget that,” you whisper. 

As you continue to hug the front door announce loudly the third person of the party arrived. 

“So I go out for pizza in the cold streets of New Yorker and this is how I find you red eyes and hugging like we are never gonna see each other again?” Sam asks leaving the two large pizzas on the table. 

“As if you could get rid so easily of me,” you say as you open you arms, Sam jumping in. 

“Never petal, we are family here.” Sam says as Bucky hums in agreement. 

“Okay that’s enough of the mushy stuff we gotta get this lady to Gotham city!” Sam yells as you all laugh. 

In that moment Bucky felt like everything would be alight and true to your word, even if you had to fly to New York or Louisiana, you where there even of it was for something as simple as birthdays, holidays, or just because Bucky was missing you. 

Bucky tells the story more of a reminder of who you where, than to tell Steve about you. 

From the past years Bucky visited Steve he never brought you up. He felt like his loyalty was to you. 

“So she left everything behind huh?” Steve wonder heaviness in his heart, but a small light shining knowing Bucky was never really alone. 

“I think thats what she needed to heal.” Bucky says standing up. 

“She was always there, at the end of the line.” Bucky says harshly and with protection written all over the place. 

“Bucky,” Steve stands up to reach him. 

“I need to go weddings gonna be next week and I can’t wait. I’m giving her away,” Bucky says as a smile makes a way to his eyes. 

“You know I always thought I’d be you at the end of the altar.” Bucky says as he starts leaving. 

“Also if you really need to know you should look at social media, everything you want to know about him is there.” Bucky says walking out suddenly he stops. 

“Tell the misses I said goodnight.” Bucky says looking up at the house one last time as he gets on his bike driving away leaving a trail on dirt behind him. 

Steve sits there for a while emotions swirling in his being. 

As he pulls his cellphone out he hears soft steps and he looks up to look at his wife. 

“Steve you’ve been here for an hour what happened?” Peggy says taking the chair next to him concern on his face. 

“I just- Bucky came over, he just needed someone to talk to.” Steve says as he tries to smile hiding yet more emotions form his wife. 

He was good at that, he guessed. 

“Oh strange he didn’t stay,” she shrugs standing up. 

“Yeah guys stuff you know,” Steve tries to laugh as Peggy smiles at him. 

“Oh this also arrived on the mail today,” Peggy hands him a white luxurious envelope. 

“Alright I’m going to bed,” She says as she kisses his cheek. 

“Okay I’ll be there in a minute.” He says as she heads back inside. 

He looks at the envelope and think nothing of it thinking its an invitation from Pepper. As he opens it and reads it he stays silent his eyes roaming all over the written words. 

            You are cordially invited to the wedding of 

                               Bruce Thomas Wayne                                              And                                (Y/N)(Y/M/N)(Y/L/N)

    Who’s nuptials will be taking place in

The Metropolitan Museum of Art.

    Located at 1000 5th Ave, New York, New York. 

Steve can’t even finish reading as he drops the paper. 

Anger and sadness fill him as he stares at the mocking piece of paper on the floor. 

He takes out his phone opening google and typing Bruce Wayne and thousands of result pop up. He opens the wikipedia article and starts reading. After reading some information he looks at the some pictures and he sees it. You and him on a red carpet for one of his galas or something smiles all over as he click the article states very clear that since you went public with him he was seen visibly happier. He can’t help but mad at him, you, and specially himself. 

He sits again in the rocking chair, the one you where meant to grow old together on, and stare at the horizon thinking of you and what to do with the wedding invitation at his feet. 

How could he get back to you?  

[the-broken-truth]

Can I request RE8 women (Lady D 、Donna...etc,you can pick who you want to write!)be protected by a human who wear full Knight's armor,use sword and sheild to fight,and they think that knight is a man.

But one day, that knight take off the helmet,and they are wrong,the knight is a woman.👩 ⚔

Sorry if I misspelled something, English is not my first language.

Broken Truth (Sharpening my sword): Hm, Dimitrescu or Donna... Dimitrescu or Donna... Hm... Why not both? Let the words weave together!

[Mother Miranda's Chapel - During A Lord Meeting]

"Thus, it would be better if you all were to... Alcina!" The Raven Winged Woman yelled out all of a sudden, causing the regal woman to jolt in her seat and almost drop her cigarette.

"Huh?! What?! Yes, Mother Miranda?" She asked as she looked at the woman in the golden mask.

"In case you forgot where you are - we are in the middle of a meeting and you are allowing your mind to wander instead of remaining focused. Care to explain why you are so distracted?" Miranda asked as she folded her arms with a glare under her mask.

"Please, forgive me, Mother Miranda - I was still...trying to analyze something that happened yesterday. You see - a few of the village's man-things decided to attack my castle." Alcina began.

"What's new about that? You report an attack on your castle once every two to three weeks; what makes this one so different that it's distracting you from the meeting?" Miranda asked.

"Well, Mother Miranda - It wasn't the event itself but the person who came out of nowhere and slaughtered all of the opposers." Alcina said with a slight blush on her face.

"Person? What person?" Miranda asked.

"Well... A Knight."

[Flashback - The Day Before - Attack On Castle Dimitrescu]

Once again - the reckless males of the village gathered again to attack the residents of the grand castle that overshadowed their home, but there were more of them than last time. The full moon shined over the castle, lighting the area around the - there were at least 50 or 60 humans there; armed with farming equipment or small handguns. Alcina and her Daughters were standing before the grand door of their castle - claws and sickles ready - the first man who held a pitchfork made a dash for the eldest daughter but before he could even get close to her, the silhouette of a caped figure shrouded the light of the moon before the figure came crashing down in the middle; acting as a bridge between The Dimitrescus and the Opposers.

The figure rose to their feet and the light of the moon made their features known to all. They were tall - at least 7 feet tall - dressed in a black metal armor that bore wolves on the shoulders and in the chest plate, the eyes of the wolves had rubies for eyes; even the helmet was in the likeness of a wolf and the back of the legs had a tail made of fur - was it real or did the wearer hunt down a beast and take its tail as a trophy. By their side, the pommel of the sword shined in the moonlight and even that was a wolf.

"Who the hell are you?!" The man said.

"Silence, you waste of flesh and blood." A deep voice came from the helmet, making the man flinch - a male was in that suit? That would explain the height. "You dare rally drunken minds to harm your masters? You have no honor and thus no worth, therefore..." His hand came over his side and wrapped around the handle of the sword before slowly pulling it out of its case, "You have no lost your privilege of life for even having the thought of harming House Dimitrescu!" He howled as he darted at the crowd of men with the speed of a beast on the hunt.

With a single swing of his sword - the first 10 men were killed. Alcina and her daughters watched in awe as this armored man slaughtered men who harm on the Dimitrescu Family. With another slash of the massive blade, 8 more were killed. He kept at it until the last man - the one who poisoned all the others to fight a losing battle; he was shivering and dropped his weapon as the tall man walked over to him, his armor and sword dripping with the blood of his lackeys.

"You are the orchestrator of this madness - the one who weaved chaos and delusion into the hearts and minds of these men." He growled as he raised the bloody blade over his head. "It is your fault that wives have become widows, children grow without parental guidance, and fathers...bury their sons; let that weigh on your mind...as you face your creator for judgment." The sword came crashing down upon the man - slicing him right down the middle.

"That...THAT WAS AWESOME!!" The excited cry of the youngest Dimitrescu Daughter as she buzzed over to the knight and began asking him questions: Where did he come from? Where he learned to fight like that? Where he got his sword and armor? If he could teach her how to fight? The Armored Man just stared at her.

"Daniela, that's enough." Alcina said as she cleared her throat and walked over to her daughter and savior, "I thank you for your but assistance but my daughters and I could have handled them." Alcina said.

"A Lady of your stature doesn't need to sully herself with dirt - it's not worth your time or the time of your daughters. Your time is precious and should be wasted with trivial matters such as this." He said before turning on his heel and jumped so high that he was once again cast in the moon's shadow before he fell in the forest somewhere, leaving the daughters and Lady of the castle just standing there...with a light blush on the lady's face.

[End of Flashback]

"HA HA HA HA HA! Lady Super-Sized Bitch has a crush! Oh, this is so rich!" Heisenberg laughed to the point he almost fell out of his seat.

"Silence, you stupid man-thing! You're just mad that he is more of a man than you will ever be!" Alcina roared at her brother who was going to shout back when...

"Hold on, ya talking that a tall dude - black armor with wolves all over it?" Angie asked from Donna's Lap; Alcina looked at her confused.

"Yes, that's my knight." She said.

The doll burst out laughing.

"Your Knight?! That's Donna's Knight! He saved her just last week!" Angie smiled.

"WHAT?!" Alcina yelled - jealousy clear in her voice.

"Yeah - it was late one night; we were looking for a plant that grew on the edge of the valley wall when..."

[Flashback - The Valley of Mist]

"AHHH!" The Dollmaker cried out as the rock under her feet broke away and she began to fall down into the misty darkness of the valley she called her home - tears in her eyes, reaching for the growing moon in the sky that seemed to get smaller and smaller with each second. She closed her eye, waiting for the sudden impact that would end her life of misery when she felt another force - an arm secured itself around her waist and she was pressed a cold chest, she kept her eye closed until she came to a stop and slowly opened them when she came face-to-face with a metal face in a wolf snarl.

"Are you alright, my lady? That would have been quite an unpleasant fall." The deep voice spoke from the metal wolf's locked jaws - Donna's eyes widened at the shining [E/C] eyes that looked back at her from the holes in the helmet.

"I...I am alright." Donna's voice came in a whisper.

"That is good to hear. Now, let's get you back to your companion." The Wolfish Knight said as he looked up and lunged himself up the wall with one clawed hand while holding Donna with the other, refusing to let her go. The moment they reached the top, Angie ran up to them.

"Donna! Are you alright?" She yelled.

"Worry not, Little Angel; your mother is safe, I was not going to let anything happen to her." The Knight said.

"Who are you?" Angie asked.

"I have no name, Little One." The Knight said as he held his hand out to Angie, "Now, take my hand and I'll get both of you back home, it gets rather dangerous around her at this time of night." He said.

Angie looked at the black clawed gauntlet for a moment before she took it and was pulled into an embrace and sat in her mother's lap before the knight rose to his full height and carried the woman bridal style before jumping into the trees - leaping through them like a Forest Cat - before falling to the ground in front of Beneviento Manor and sat them both on their feet. The knight gave them a nod before turning away and leaping away once again - gone from their sight.

[End of Flashback]

"Well...Just because she knew him first doesn't mean that she can have him." Alcina said.

"And what makes you think you deserve him? He saved us first and Donna even saw his eyes; you didn't have a decent conversation with them." Angie said.

"He is my knight and I shall not let anyone take him from me, not even my little sister." Alcina growled at Angie.

"Hey, you can't claim him for yourself if he doesn't want you!" Donna said as she rose from her seat.

"And what makes you think he wants you, little dollmaker?" Alcina smirked.

"I don't know what he wants but if he were here, I would as him!"

Oh, fate - how you be a lady.

The Window above Mother Miranda's head caved inward and two figures came crashing into the stone floor of Mother Miranda's Chapel - the first being one of Karl's Massive Lycans - The Varcolac - and...

THE KNIGHT?!

He was holding the beast by its head as it tried to sink its teeth into his armor. The Varcolac's hand lashed out and knocked the knight into one of the stone walls - making a large hole in it.

"My Knight!" Both Alcina and Donna yelled out before glaring at each other, "Your Knight?!"

A flash of black bolted out of the hole and metal arms wrapped around the beast's neck before twisting - snapping its neck. The Knight dropped the dead creature and exhaled before the wolf face he wore began cracking and broke away: revealing [H/L] [H/C] hair, [E/C] eyes, [S/C] skin with a scar across the face and...

A feminine face?!

THE KNIGHT WAS A FEMALE?!

The knight looked up at Miranda and the other lords before bowing in apology. "Forgive me for this interrupting, this beast attacked my home and I had to put it down." She said. Alcina was quick and was at the knight's side with her hand on the knight's shoulder.

"It's quite alright, cavalerul meu (My Knight). You had to do what needed to be done to keep your lady safe. If you wish, I can bring you to Castle Dimitrescu for a meal and a safe place to recover; it's the least I can do, Darling." Alcina blushed at her words while the woman in armor just looked at her in confusion before she was pulled away from Alcina.

"Hey, Tall One! It's been a while! Thanks for saving us from that thing. Sorry about your mask, Donna and I can get it fixed for you and you can stay with us while it gets fixed." Angie said while Donna smiled.

"Excuse me?!" Alcina said as she marched up to her little sister, the knight moving back. "I was the one who invited my knight to stay at Castle Dimitrescu while she heals, you can't roach on my bonding time with my future partner!" Alcina yelled at the veiled woman.

"And who said she wants you, Alcina?! Didn't you see if was uncomfortable with the way you were touching her?! It's clear she doesn't want you!" Donna yelled back.

"She does! Don't you, cavalerul meu?!" Alcina turned to the knight...only to find her gone. "What?!" She looked around, "Where did she go?!"

"She jumped back out that window while you two were arguing. Looks like she doesn't want either one of you." Karl smirked.

"SHUT UP, KARL!!!" Donna/Alcina/ and Angie yelled at him.

[End]

[fannish-karmiya]

Is Wei Wuxian's Cultivation Actually Harmful to Him?

Throughout Wei Wuxian’s first life, he frequently argues with Lan Wangji over his cultivation. Lan Wangji believes that his cultivation will harm him and eventually destroy him, while Wei Wuxian insists that he has everything under control. Many readers take Lan Wangji’s warnings at face value, leading to the common fandom perception that demonic cultivation (more accurately, the ghost path) is inherently harmful to Wei Wuxian and that he should indeed give it up.

But does the text actually back that up, when we examine Wei Wuxian’s use of his cultivation? While Wei Wuxian does experience a few losses of control, I would argue that they are far more due to circumstances than anything else, and not a sign that the cultivating with resentful energy is inherently harmful to a cultivator’s body or that loss of control is an inevitable conclusion.

Preconceptions

Lan Wangji is the character who most often tries to tell Wei Wuxian that his cultivation is harmful. Immediately when Wei Wuxian returns from the Burial Mounds and meets Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji again while torturing Wen Chao, Lan Wangji expresses concern:

One against two, Lan WangJi still refused to back off. He gazed at Wei WuXian, “Wei Ying, for cultivating an evil path you would eventually have to pay. Throughout time, there has not been a single exception.”

Wei WuXian, “I can pay.”

Seeing how unconcerned he seemed to be, Lan WangJi lowered his voice, “The path would not only damage your body, but your heart as well.”

(Chapter 62, Exiled Rebels translation)

Now, Wei Wuxian’s path (guidao, the ghost path) is brand new. He invented it, being the first person to ever successfully cultivate using yuanqi, or the resentful energy of dead humans. So why does Lan Wangji speak so assuredly of the harm it can cause?

The term ‘cultivating an evil path’ is telling. Wei Wuxian’s cultivation is a new path, but there are other dark paths of cultivation which exist. The Nie sect’s sabres are an example; they absorb the killing intent and evil energy of the yao and guai they kill, and over time their sabres become more and more powerful but also lead the wielder closer and closer to an inevitable qi deviation.

Of course, Lan Wangji is not aware of the Nie sect’s technique, which is a strictly kept secret, at this point. Nie Mingjue only seems to have told Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao because they were his sworn brothers. But there are surely other paths like this which are publicly known.

We know about other dark rituals which are not part of Wei Wuxian’s ghost path, after all, and ‘backlash’ is a frequent risk, either due to making the user vulnerable or failing to fulfil the contract one agreed to.

The body sacrificing ritual which Mo Xuanyu uses, for example, will cause backlash if you fail to keep up your end of the deal.

It was an ancient, forbidden technique. Compared to an array, it resembled a curse more. The caster of the array injures themselves by creating incisions on their body, and draws the array and writes the incantations using their own blood, finishing by sitting in the center of the array. They can then summon an extremely villainous ghoul and ask for it to complete their wish. The price to pay was to offer their body to the evil spirit, with their own soul returning back to Earth.

This was the forbidden technique opposite to stealing another’s body—offering one’s body.

[...]

The difficult part was that, as soon as the evil spirit has taken over the body of the caster, the contract is sealed by default. The evil spirit must grant their wish, or else the curse will cause a backlash. The spirit in possession of the body will be completely annihilated, never to be born again!

(Chapter 2, Exiled Rebels translation)

Interestingly, the harm here is to the ‘evil spirit’ if they fail to keep up their end of the contract. Well, also the caster who gives up his or her life in exchange. At any rate, this sort of thing seems to be a frequent risk of dark cultivation techniques. The paperman technique is also quite risky:

The good thing was that Wei WuXian had once learnt a certain technique of the dark arts—the paper metamorphosis.

Although it was indeed useful, it had a number of restrictions as well. Not only was the time strictly limited, the paperman must also return as it were, after it had been released. There mustn’t even be a single scratch on it. If, on its way, it was torn apart or broken in any way, the soul would receive the same degree of harm—from a year of unconsciousness to a whole lifetime of lunacy. Thus, one must be extremely careful.

(Chapter 47, Exiled Rebels translation)

This seems to be a frequent concern with any dark technique, which probably is what led Lan Wangji to believe that Wei Wuxian’s new path would be similarly dangerous. It’s also very worth noting that he grew up in Gusu Lan, which is known for being even more judgmental towards dark cultivation than other sects.

He immediately seemed to realize, “Oh. I forgot. Your uncle Lan QiRen hates crooked people like me. You’re his proudest disciple, so of course you’re the same as him, haha. I refuse.”

Jiang Cheng stared at Lan WangJi, cautious, “Second Young Master Lan, all of us understand the Lan Sect’s ways.

[...]

Wei WuXian had been angered as well, “Lan WangJi! Do you really have to make this difficult at such a point in time? You want me to go to the Cloud Recesses for the GusuLan Sect’s confinement punishment? Who do you think you are, what do you think the GusuLan Sect is?! You really think that I won’t resist?!”

(Chapter 62, Exiled Rebels translation)

While many people speak negatively of Wei Wuxian’s cultivation path, Lan Qiren is particularly virulent when Wei Wuxian first proposes the theory as a teen:

Everyone in the room was stunned. Lan QiRen sprang to his feet, “The essence of exorcising demons and annihilating ghosts is to liberate! You do not study the methods of liberation, and even think about increasing their energy of resentment! You reverse the natural order, and ignore ethics and morality!”

[...]

Another book came flying from Lan QiRen. He spoke harshly, “Then, let me ask you again! How do you make sure that the resentful energy only listens to you and does not harm others?”

Wei WuXian ducked while speaking, “I haven’t thought of it yet!”

Lan QiRen raged, “If you thought of it, the cultivation world would not allow your existence! Get out!”

(Chapter 14, Exiled Rebels translation)

Due to their father’s seclusion and their mother’s imprisonment, Lan Wangji and his brother were raised by Lan Qiren. With his uncle having such a black and white view of such matters, it’s understandable that Lan Wangji would absorb that and struggle to reconcile the Wei Wuxian he knows and loves with the man who is cultivating an ‘evil’ path.

With his own sect and family so negatively inclined towards Wei Wuxian’s cultivation, I think Lan Wangji was primed to see every behaviour of Wei Wuxian’s through this lens. Similarly, the audience hears the younger Lan Wangji repeat these warnings so many times that I think many readers wind up believing him, too.

Confirmation Bias

However, I think much of this is actually a case of confirmation bias. Lan Wangji is predisposed to see Wei Wuxian’s cultivation as harmful, and is actively looking for signs that it is; he winds up correlating all sorts of things to Wei Wuxian’s cultivation as a result.

He does so when he visits Wei Wuxian in Yunmeng:

Lan WangJi, “Last time, during the hunt on Phoenix Mountain, have you noticed certain signs?”

Wei WuXian, “What signs?”

Lan WangJi, “The loss of control.”

Wei WuXian, “You mean me almost getting into a fight with Jin ZiXuan? I think you got something wrong. I want to fight with Jin ZiXuan whenever I see him.”

(Chapter 71, Exiled Rebels translation)

Which is true! Wei Wuxian and Jin Zixuan just do not get on at all. And if we go back to Phoenix Mountain, it’s clear that this was a perfectly ordinary fight:

However, Jiang YanLi didn’t turn around. Jin ZiXuan was even more enraged. He caught up to her in just three strides and was about to grab her hand when a shadow suddenly flashed before his eyes. Before he could see who it was, he received a blow on his chest. Jin ZiXuan swung his sword across and backed away.

When he finally could see, he raged, “Wei WuXian, why is it you again?!”

Wei WuXian blocked Jiang YanLi behind him, raging as well, “I haven’t fucking said it yet—why is it you again?!”

Jin ZiXuan, “Attacking because of nothing have you gone mad?!”

Wei WuXian struck with his palm, “That’s exactly what I’m doing! What do you mean because of nothing? What are you doing trying to grab my shijie just because of how ashamed you are?!”

Jin ZiXuan dodged to the side and returned to him a sword attack, “If I don’t grab her should I let her walk randomly around the mountain alone?!”

(Chapter 70, Exiled Rebels translation)

Jin Zixuan is described as being ‘enraged’ and tries to grab Jiang Yanli. He’s clearly being very hotheaded here himself. What brother wouldn’t be enraged after this, especially given Jin Zixuan’s pattern of speaking of Jiang Yanli derisively?

Earlier, Lan Wangji had forcibly kissed Wei Wuxian while he was blindfolded, and yet he didn’t display any loss of control or temper problems then.

(I also think this ties into how people tend to judge Wei Wuxian more harshly due to his lower social class; he’s often no more brash and arrogant than his peers, but because he’s the son of a servant only he is judged for it. Look at Jin Zixuan pulling his sword on a man who no longer carries a sword! He isn’t criticised for that. But I digress.)

Lan Wangji also believes that Wei Wuxian’s cultivation is doing him spiritual harm, using evidence such as Wei Wuxian’s unwillingness to carry his sword or receive spiritual energy to help him heal:

Suddenly, he felt an itch at his throat. Blood began to rise up his chest. Trying to restrain it, Wei WuXian coughed a couple of times. Seeing that Lan WangJi was going to grab his hand again, Wei WuXian dodged, “What are you doing?”

Lan WangJi, “Your injuries.”

Wei WuXian, “No need. Why use spiritual energy for such a small wound? It’ll get better after some sitting around.”

Lan WangJi didn’t waste any words with him, grabbing for his hand again. At this point, two people came from outside of the cave. Wen Qing’s voice sounded, “Get better after some sitting around? Did you think I’m dead?”

(Chapter 75, Exiled Rebels translation)

He observes this back when he visited the Burial Mounds in the day, and many years later tells Wen Ning that this was the conclusion he drew:

Wen Ning turned around. He couldn’t help but ask, “Young Master Lan, you don’t seem too surprised about this. Did you… Did you know about this as well?”

“…” Lan WangJi managed, “I only knew that his spiritual powers were somehow impaired.”

But to think this was the truth.

(Chapter 89, Exiled Rebels translation)

Working with incomplete information (since he doesn’t know that Wei Wuxian has no golden core, he instead assumes that he is being harmed spiritually by his cultivation) and a pre-existing bias against demonic cultivation, Lan Wangji viewed Wei Wuxian as someone who was bound to lose control at some point, and everything became evidence to prove what he already believed.

Loss of Control

However, I think it’s arguable that the instances where Wei Wuxian loses control are not an inevitability of his cultivation path. Instead, they occur in extremely dangerous combat situations where Wei Wuxian has no allies and is being besieged by hundreds or thousands of enemies.

I want to go over three instances where things go sideways for Wei Wuxian with his cultivation in his first life: Wen Ning’s awakening, the ambush at Qiongqi Path, and the battle at Nightless City.

Now, I wouldn’t even describe Wen Ning’s revival as a loss of control. Wei Wuxian had spent months trying to revive Wen Ning, and in the end he wound up waking up while Wei Wuxian was down in Yiling, not at the Burial Mounds to keep the situation under control. It’s like an unwatched pot boiling over.

Wei WuXian, “Didn’t I say not to touch the talismans on him?!”

Wen Qing didn’t even have the spare seconds to be surprised that Lan WangJi was here. She answered, “Nobody touched them! Not a single person went into the Cave! He tore them off on his own when he suddenly went on a rampage. Not only the ones on himself, he destroyed the restriction seals at the blood pool and the Cave as well! All of the fierce corpses in the blood pool got out. Wei WuXian, go save Granny and the others. They won’t be able to hold up much longer!!!”

(Chapter 75, Exiled Rebels translation)

Honestly, it’s hard to know based on this what caused Wen Ning to wake up or to return to consciousness. My suspicion is that Wei Wuxian’s efforts had worked, and he woke up with a lot of excess resentful energy he needed to work off; hence going to beat up all the other fierce corpses in the Blood Pool.

After this, Wei Wuxian takes measures to ensure that Wen Ning doesn’t lose consciousness again. For the next year until the ambush at Qiongqi Path, there are absolutely no incidents, and Wen Ning and Wei Wuxian go on night hunts together frequently.

Things only go wrong during the ambush.

Wei WuXian laughed coldly, “You’re seeking your own death!”

As he finished, Wen Ning raised his hand and tore off the red string that hung a talisman at his neck.

After the string snapped, his body wavered, and the muscles on his face began to twist. Marks that resembled black cracks crawled up his neck to his cheeks. He suddenly lifted his head, letting out a long, inhuman roar!

(Chapter 76, Exiled Rebels translation)

So Wen Ning wears a talisman which presumably suppresses his resentful energy, and which he must remove in order to fight at full strength. After Jin Zixuan shows up and completely fails to de-escalate the situation at all, Wen Ning kills him:

Wei WuXian was suppressing a blazing flame of hatred. His voice was cold, “Jin ZiXuan, move away right now. I won’t touch you, but you’re not going to provoke me either.”

Seeing that he still refused to yield, Jin ZiXuan suddenly lunged forward, as if trying to hold him down, “Why can’t you just back off for once?! A-Li is still…”

Just as he reached toward Wei WuXian, he heard a strange, heavy noise.

The noise was almost a bit too near. Jin ZiXuan paused in surprise. He looked down and finally saw the hand that pierced his chest.

(Chapter 76, Exiled Rebels translation)

It’s pretty clear that Wen Ning saw Jin Zixuan lunging towards Wei Wuxian and interpreted him as a threat. As objective observers, we can see that this is actually quite understandable, if tragic, and realistically could have happened similarly in a mundane setting with no magic. But Wei Wuxian of course would start to feel doubt when something so terrible happens:

He was clearly controlling Wen Ning properly.

Even though he activated Wen Ning’s rampage mode, he should still be able to control him.

He’d clearly always been able to control him perfectly.

He didn’t want to kill Jin ZiXuan at all.

He never had the intention to kill Jin ZiXuan at all! It was just that moment. He didn’t know why, but all of a sudden he wasn’t able to control it… He had suddenly lost control!

(Chapter 76, Exiled Rebels translation)

Wei Wuxian had always been able to control Wen Ning perfectly before. Honestly, it’s not a surprise that his control was looser in a situation like this; he’s in the midst of an ambush where 300 people are trying to kill him! Realistically, Jin Zixuan bears some responsibility in his own death, too. When you’re trying to negotiate a ceasefire, you don’t fail to give the target of the attack any assurance of his safety and then lunge for him threateningly! Of course Wen Ning saw him as a threat and acted to defend Wei Wuxian.

Later, Wei Wuxian observes that during his ‘rampage’ state, Wen Ning draws his guidance from Wei Wuxian’s impressions of people:

Listening to him stutter as he apologized over and over again, all of a sudden, Wei WuXian felt extremely ridiculous.

It wasn’t Wen Ning’s fault at all.

It was his own fault.

When on a rampage, Wen Ning was nothing more than a weapon. The person who created the weapon was him. The things it listens to were his orders as well.

At that time, with all the tension and the killing intent on top of how Wei WuXian had never hesitated to show enmity toward Jin ZiXuan in front of Wen Ning, when he was unconscious, Wen Ning recognized Jin ZiXuan as an ‘enemy’ when he attacked, carrying out the order of ‘exterminate’ without a second thought.

(Chapter 76, Exiled Rebels translation)

I actually think that if Wen Ning had killed, say, Jin Zixun, Wei Wuxian would simply have seen it as a case of self-defence and accepted it as that. It’s the fact that Jin Zixuan is the husband of his foster sister (and the one person there he didn’t actually want dead) which turns this into such a tragedy.

The intensely stressful situation in the aftermath of Jin Zixuan’s death is the only time we ever see Wei Wuxian express doubt in his own abilities or regret choosing the ghost path:

With the child’s cries coming to his ears from afar and the scared siblings who were at a complete loss as to what to do in his eyes, Wei WuXian felt his heart sink lower into darkness. He asked himself, Just why have I been locking myself up on Burial Mound all these years? Why do I have to go through all this? Why did I choose to walk this path in the beginning? Why did I make myself like this? What do others see me as? Just what have I gained? Have I gone mad? Have I gone mad? Have I gone mad?!

If only he didn’t choose this path in the beginning.

(Chapter 76, Exiled Rebels translation)

I think that during this period, Wei Wuxian was under an immense amount of stress. He was the sole protector of 50 people who the world wanted dead, and he had to be strong and confident for them at all times. Only during his initial panic after Jin Zixuan’s death does that confident front break down and show us just how much the stress must have been wearing on him:

As he thought and thought about it, Wei WuXian suddenly broke into tears.

His voice was submerged in a deep helplessness, “… Can someone tell me… what I’m supposed to do now?”

(Chapter 76, Exiled Rebels translation)

I honestly think that if Wei Wuxian had had someone to lean on and share responsibility with during this time, it would have helped him so much.

In the past, there were only others who asked him what to do. Now, though, he was the one asking others what he should do, and nobody was able to give him an answer.

[...]

Wei WuXian raged, “You can shut the fuck up! It’s already pandemonium the way things are right now! You two can stop adding more trouble onto my platter. Give yourselves in my ass. Did I tell you to do this? Take it out!”

(Chapter 77, Exiled Rebels translation)

Later on, at Nightless City, Wei Wuxian’s loss of control is directly tied by the narrator to his worsening mental state:

The more Wei WuXian panicked, the less control he had. The corpse ignored his command and instead lifted the sword in its hand, slashing it down at Jiang YanLi!

Wei WuXian had lost it, dashing as he shouted, “Stop it, stop it, right now, stop it!”

(Chapter 78, Exiled Rebels translation)

He manages to calm himself down and get back under control:

Jiang YanLi sighed, “A-Xian, you… you should stop first. Don’t, don’t…”

Wei WuXian hurried, “Yes, I’ll stop.”

He took up Chenqing, placed it by his lips, and began to play. He only managed to steady his mind with great effort. This time, the corpses finally stopped ignoring his commands. One after another, strange gurgles echoed in their throats as if they were complaining. Slowly, they bent down.

(Chapter 78, Exiled Rebels translation)

Only when Jiang Yanli is killed by a cultivator aiming for Wei Wuxian does he decide, in his grief and rage, to put the Yinhufu together again:

Yet, no matter the criticism, the blame, Wei WuXian could no longer hear any of them. As if governed by another soul, he reached out and took two objects from within his sleeves. Before everyone’s eyes, he put them together. One half on top and the other below, the two objects snapped into one, letting out a resonating clang.

Wei WuXian placed it on his palm and raised it high into the air.

It was the Stygian Tiger Seal!

(Chapter 78, Exiled Rebels translation)

We know that after the Bloodbath of Nightless City, as this battle comes to be known, Lan Wangji takes Wei Wuxian back to Yiling. However, Wei Wuxian is in a very poor mental state (most likely due to stress, exhaustion, and trauma), and only regains awareness a few days later at the Burial Mounds.

This is when he decides that the Yinhufu is a weapon which he should never have created, and determines to destroy it.

After using it for the second time, he finally decided to destroy one half of the seal. Before he could completely destroy the other half, the siege at Luanzang Hill happened, and it had since then been beyond his capabilities.

(Chapter 30, Exiled Rebels translation)

So Wei Wuxian was actually able to successfully destroy one half of the seal, and start work on the second, in the three months between Nightless City and the First Siege.

Toward his own creation, Wei WuXian was confident to say that even if the sect that got hold of it, made a temple for it, and offered it incense every single day, the remaining half of the Tiger Seal was just a piece of scrap iron. However, Lan WangJi told him something shocking—it appeared that Xue Yang could rebuild the other half of the seal!

Although Xue Yang was young, he was also quite clever, a bizarre eccentric. The LanlingJin Sect discovered that he could use the remaining half of the seal to roughly piece together the other half. Even though the recreated version wasn’t as powerful and couldn’t be used for as long, it could already result in terrible catastrophes.

(Chapter 30, Exiled Rebels translation)

I gather that the first half, he completely neutralised. The second half had not been fully drained of power when the First Siege happened. We never see the First Siege, but I think we can hazard a guess that once the Wens were massacred, Wei Wuxian knew that it was all over, and decided to destroy the second half of the Yinhufu so that no one there could get their hands on it. It is likely the backlash from improperly destroying/neutralising the Yinhufu which led to his corpses turning on him and ripping him apart.

Wei Wuxian does confirm that some sort of backlash killed him:

Wen Ning whispered, “Sect Leader Jiang, Jiang Cheng, brought a siege upon the Burial Mounds. And he killed you.”

Wei WuXian, “I’ll have to clarify this one. He didn’t kill me. I died from a backfire.”

(Chapter 43, Exiled Rebels translation)

“That’s merely hearsay. Although Jiang Cheng was one of the main forces, he did not give Wei WuXian the final blow. Because he cultivates the Demon Path, Wei WuXian’s powers had backfired and he was ripped to pieces.”

“Hahahaha… That’s karma! The ghost soldiers that he created are like unleashed dogs, biting everyone that they come across. It serves him right to be chewed to death!”

(Chapter 1, Exiled Rebels translation)

While the vast majority of information in the prologue is revealed later to be lies, Wei Wuxian does confirm this. Strictly, the ‘ghost soldiers’ were probably his fierce corpses. ‘Ghost’ or ‘Gui’ is used in Modao Zushi’s magic system as a catch-all phrase for dead humans, whether they’re actual ghosts (incorporeal spirits) or reanimated corpses. We know that Wei Wuxian was using huge numbers of fierce corpses to act as guards at the entrance to the Burial Mounds and protect the Wens, after all.

Wei Wuxian’s Second Life

So the risk of backlash is confirmed as a threat when using guidao and other dark cultivation techniques. However, it seems that they either have a clear contract which has to be fulfilled (like in the body sacrifice ritual), or a clearly defined risk which can be mitigated or prevented entirely through careful use.

It’s notable that Wei Wuxian is in control of his cultivation far more often than not, and in his second life we see absolutely no losses of control from him. This is probably down to a few things, one of them being greater experience. He also is no longer working alone; Lan Wangji is nearly always at his side or very nearby, which removes the intense stress of trying to fight against the entire world alone.

Honestly, I can’t even pull up any instances of Wei Wuxian struggling to control his cultivation in his second life or being even mildly harmed by it; there are absolutely none. We only ever see him dealing with mundane exhaustion, stress, and physical injuries.

He recovers very quickly from performing Empathy with Nie Mingjue:

Hearing this, Wei WuXian instantly pulled himself out!

He was still the thin paperman, stuck to the helmet that sealed Nie MingJue’s head. He had tugged loose the knot that tied the iron shells over Nie MingJue’s eyes, revealing a bloodshot eye, opened wide with anger.

[...]

There wasn’t much time left. He must return to his corporal body immediately!

Paperman WuXian flapped his sleeves, flying out as though he were a butterfly.

[...]

A while later, once his soul had returned successfully, Wei WuXian immediately took a deep breath. He raised his head, opened his eyes, and suddenly stood up. Yet, having not expected his body to still be disoriented, he felt dizzy and leaned forward. Seeing this, Lan WangJi caught him in his arms. Wei WuXian lifted his head once more, and the top of his head collided with Lan WangJi’s chin. With a thud, both of them grunted in pain. Wei WuXian rubbed his head with one hand and felt Lan WangJi’s chin with the other, “Ugh! I’m sorry. Lan Zhan, you alright?”

His chin having been stroked a couple of times, Lan WangJi lightly took Wei WuXian’s hand away before shaking his head. Wei WuXian tugged him, “Let’s go!”

(Chapter 50, Exiled Rebels translation)

After this, he is stabbed by Jin Ling and winds up spending four days unconscious in Cloud Recesses. I’ve seen it suggested that his short bout of hallucinating after he wakes up is due to harm from his cultivation, but I firmly disagree. He’d been unconscious for four days after being stabbed!

He immediately let go, almost wanting to roll away. His movement was so large that it hurt the wound at his stomach. He exclaimed an ‘ah’ as he scrunched his brows, finally remembering that he was still injured. Amid the stars before his eyes, Jing Ling, Jiang Cheng, Jiang YanLi, Jiang FengMian, Madam Yu… Many faces spun around in a large circle.

[...]

Only having ensured that his injuries were indeed fine did Lan WangJi finally let him go, “Four days.”

Jin Ling’s sword stabbed right through. The wound hadn’t been shallow at all. How it healed within four days without even leaving a scar behind meant that high level medicine of the GusuLan Sect had to have been necessary. Wei WuXian thanked him, mocking himself along the way, “I’ve reincarnated but somehow I’ve become even weaker. I couldn’t keep going after just a single stab.”

(Chapter 63, Exiled Rebels translation)

After being a bit muddled upon first waking up, he’s fine. He was also dreaming about his past while unconscious, which is why he’s described as seeing all these faces ‘amid the stars before his eyes’. The flashbacks in Refinement and Poisons-Evil are both framed as Wei Wuxian sleeping and dreaming about the past, and he’s thinking about them as a result; he’s not portrayed as actually hallucinating and thinking they’re really there.

Wei Wuxian is very drained by the events of the Second Siege and faints twice afterwards. However, it’s worth noting that during the Second Siege, he didn’t really use resentful energy (he couldn’t, as all the corpses there were under the control of the Yinhufu); he used talismans, which only require a small amount of spiritual energy.

Wei Wuxian even specifically states that Mo Xuanyu’s body is very weak, refusing to use Suibian before the Second Siege:

He wore it by his waist and didn’t seem like he was going to use it. Seeing how Lan WangJi looked at him, he fiddled with his hair and explained, “I haven’t used a sword in so many years. I’m not used to it.” As he spoke, he sighed again, “Alright. The real reason is that my current body is low in spiritual energy. Even if there’s a high level sword, it won’t be able to make the best use of it. And so, it’ll be up to HanGuang-Jun to protect the delicate man that I am.”

(Chapter 68, Exiled Rebels translation)

Wei Wuxian collapses due to exhaustion on the boat ride to Lotus Pier:

OuYang ZiZhen, “HanGuang-Jun, why did Senior Wei collapse?”

Lan WangJi, “Fatigue.”

Lan JingYi was amazed, “I thought that Senior Wei would never get tired!”

(Chapter 84, Exiled Rebels translation)

He collapses again during the fight at the Jiang ancestral hall:

Lan WangJi, “Wei Ying?!” His low voice rang within Wei WuXian’s ears, echoing endlessly.

Wei WuXian was starting doubt if something happened to his ears, “What’s wrong?”

He felt something streak down his face, but reached up only to retrieve a handful of scarlet. Accompanied by throbs of dizziness, blood continued to drip down his nose and his mouth, onto the ground.

[...]

Having come to the conclusion that Wei WuXian was only in a temporary state of unconsciousness due to extreme fatigue and anger, Lan WangJi finally tore his gaze away.

(Chapter 88, Exiled Rebels translation)

When he wakes up in Chapter 90, he feels unwell but recovers fairly quickly:

For a long while, he couldn’t figure out what was happening. Only when he saw the splatters of blood on Lan WangJi’s left sleeve, like a string of plum blossoms resting on snow, did he finally recall what happened before he passed out from anger. His expression twisted at once as he suddenly sat upright. Lan WangJi went to help him, but the ringing in Wei WuXian’s ears hadn’t stopped yet.

[...]

Lan WangJi knew that he wasn’t feeling well. Silent, he didn’t ask anything. He lay one hand on his back, sending him a warm thread of spiritual energy.

[...]

Looking around, Wei WuXian suddenly exclaimed, “I’m hungry.”

Lan WangJi looked up. Of course, Wei WuXian wasn’t hungry at all. He had just eaten three pies at the vendor in front of Lotus Pier’s gates. Lan WangJi only ate one, however, and it was the only thing he’d eaten in the past two days. The matter was on Wei WuXian’s mind.

(Chapter 90, Exiled Rebels translation)

The narrative again directly links it to exhaustion, not to anything more ominous than that:

In the fight at Burial Mound, Wei WuXian exerted too much energy and stamina. Both his mind and his body were strained for too long. A few hours earlier, Jiang Cheng angered him so much that he almost bled from his qiqiao.

He only recovered after a long time of rest. Although he didn’t feel too bad right now, if there was something he missed and he pushed himself all the way to Lanling, it was hard to tell whether or not an accident would happen at a critical moment. On top of that, he wasn’t the only one straining his mind and body in the past few days. Lan WangJi didn’t rest for a second either.

(Chapter 91, Exiled Rebels translation)

As said, there simply isn’t any proof, based on Wei Wuxian’s second life, that his cultivation is doing him harm, nor does he ever lose control of it.

This definitely indicates to me that Wei Wuxian’s losses of control in his first life were related to the circumstances and not an inevitable risk of his cultivation path.

In Conclusion

I actually suspect that Lan Wangji himself came to the same conclusion; he only ever gently warns Wei Wuxian to be careful when using dark techniques during his second life:

Lan WangJi let the paperman wriggle on his ribbon for some time. Just as he reached out to take it down, the paperman slid its way down as fast as it could. No matter intentionally or not, it bumped its head once against his lips.

Lan WangJi’s movements paused for a moment. Using two of his fingers, he finally caught it, “Do not fool around.”

Softly, the paperman rolled its body over his slender finger.

Lan WangJi, “You must be careful.”

The paperman nodded and flapped its wings. Clinging flat onto the ground, it climbed through the door slit and snuck out of the guest room.

(Chapter 47, Exiled Rebels translation)

He still does have some level of distaste for Wei Wuxian’s cultivation path, I would argue, due to the way he instantly latches onto the idea that Wei Wuxian would never have turned to the ghost path if not for his lost golden core:

“…” Lan WangJi managed, “I only knew that his spiritual powers were somehow impaired.”

But to think this was the truth.

Wen Ning, “If not because of this…”

If not because there really wasn’t a second path to walk on.

(Chapter 89, Exiled Rebels translation)

But the discussion of Wei Wuxian’s feelings on his cultivation is one for another day.

At any rate, I doubt that Lan Wangji is only holding back his feelings on the ghost path due to wanting to avoid any more fights with Wei Wuxian. After all, he spent 13 years mourning him. If he still believed that Wei Wuxian’s cultivation was going to eventually kill him, I doubt he would accept it so much more readily now.

I think the lesson he learnt, after looking back and thinking on the past a great deal, was indeed that Wei Wuxian would not have suffered such losses of control if he had had anyone to rely on in his past life. So now Lan Wangji always stands by his side and ensures that he will never reach such a state of desperation again.

[mystic-shadows42]

Infiltrate

Pairing: Hvitserk x reader x Ivar

Warnings: Language

Summary: Hvitserk is in love with the reader who happens to be married to Ivar. Loyalty is tested and jealousy spikes.

The men brought forth Hvitserk to present to Ivar. A new member to join their fight.

Ivar looked rather surprised to see Hvitserk there. They hadn’t left on good terms but he wanted to hear him out regardless. 

“Hello, brother. I see you’ve decided to join me.”

Hvitserk was about to answer until he saw movement from behind Ivar. He saw your flowing dress headed towards them. Even in front of Ivar, he could hardly take his eyes off of you.

“Yeah,” he just barely whispered.

Ivar noticed he was distracted and turned around in time to see you. He smiled and embraced you in his arms. This time Ivar let his mouth linger on you as he peppered your lips with kisses.

“Ivar, not in front of your brother,” you whispered into his ear and he smiled into your neck.

Ivar loosened his hold on your hips but let his hands roam over your arms and waist.

“Hello, Hvitserk. I’m glad you’re here to support us.”

“I’m here for whatever you need.”

You nodded your head in satisfaction while Ivar noticed the subtle hint. Hvitserk had his entire attention rooted to you. There was a tension in his stare that didn’t sit well with Ivar.

He squinted at his brother and was about to make a remark when someone came up and whispered in his ear. Ivar’s face hardened at whatever news he got.

“Excuse me. I am needed elsewhere. My love, try not to cause any trouble.”

You smiled at Ivar and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“How can I promise such a thing?”

Ivar had left along with his group of followers who hardly ever left his side. So now it was just you and Hvitserk.

You watched Ivar leave and didn’t notice that Hvitserk had moved closer.

“Since when have you been married to my brother?”

You sighed and turned to face him.

“Since he asked me to be his wife.”

“To be queen? Is that it?”

You tilted your head at Hvitserk not liking his reason for you marrying his brother. There was a time you didn’t care for Ivar but he was relentless in trying to win you over.

He was sweet and patient vying for your affection. He showed you a different side and that’s what made you fall for him. 

“I’m with Ivar because I love him, not because of a mere title. So whatever you’re getting at Hvitserk, don’t. If you’re not here to support Ivar, then what are you here for?”

Hvitserk looked around the place making sure no one was around. He licked his lips then contemplated what it’d mean if he said what he felt out loud. He was in his brother’s camp. He knew there’d be spies everywhere but he was willing to risk it.

“Why do you think I came? Rumors spread that you were going to marry my brother. I had to see it for myself.”

You shook your head at Hvitserk. He didn’t have to come all the way here just to figure that out.

“Then you wasted your time.” You moved closer to him so he could hear you better. “If Ivar were to hear you.” You didn’t finish as you allowed him to think on that thought alone. Ivar got jealous easily. He may have a better hold on his temper but that never stopped him from still acting out every now and then.

Hvitserk got closer to you, holding your hands in his. 

“I don’t care. I came back for you.”

You quickly moved your hands away from his.

“Your feelings are misplaced.”

“Are they?”

You tilted your head while looking at Hvitserk.

“Yes. There’s nothing here, you understand? You are my brother by marriage, nothing more.”

You began to walk away not wanting to make a scene in case somebody were to walk by. He didn’t seem to get the hint as he kept up with your pace.

“Does Ivar know that you warmed my bed for months during the winter nights?”

You were quick to turn to him hitting his chest. “How dare you!” You whispered, harshly. “Even if he does know, he doesn’t mention it. You’re a fling of the past Hvitserk. Ivar is my present and future. I don’t expect anything but your loyalty to Ivar.”

Hvitserk allowed you to walk on but kept a safe distance and saw you enter a barn. He was about to enter but stopped upon hearing you speak to someone else. He snuck to the side of the barn and watched through the cracks.

Ivar was in there with you and he had his head placed on your shoulder. You had your hands rubbing down his arms in a soothing notion of comfort.

“It’s starting to ache.”

“I’m here. Remember, don’t focus on the pain. Just focus on me.”

You interlaced your fingers with his and kissed him. The barn was your place to be intimate with each other but whenever the pain would be too much for Ivar to bear, you’d simply lie with one another until he had to leave.

It was moments like this when just being in complete silence with each other was enough. Ivar didn’t have to do anything, his presence was enough. He had your heart completely.

“I have to go,” he said lowly.

“You’ve only just got here.”

“I’m king remember,” he smiled at you and cupped your face. “Know that there’s no greater prize than you as my queen.”

You smiled and kissed his lips one last time. Hvitserk watched and waited. Ivar would be busy so this was his chance with you. His hand hovered over the entryway. Against his better judgment, he entered.

He closed the doors behind him and looked at your surprised face.

“Get out of here, Hvitserk.”

Your heart started to race when he didn’t say anything back. His intentions weren’t good that much you could tell.

You watched him as you tried stepping around his large frame. He held his arm out blocking you.

“I’m not going to leave.”

“Then I’ll scream.” You tried once more evading him but he placed his hands on your arms holding you in place.

“I’m not going to leave you.”

You crinkled your brows at him, not understanding. He had no obligation to stay.

“There’s nothing here for you. Why can’t you just leave it all in the past?”

“I love you.”

You froze in your spot. Love wasn’t to be taken lightly.

“You’re in love with the idea of me,” you spoke in a softer voice this time. Perhaps he was still hurting from his past.

“Did Ivar ever tell you what he’s done to the women I’ve loved?” His voice sounded strained but he held firm. You knew of the losses he’s endured. It was a hard thought to accept that Hvitserk lost the women he’s cared for in his life. All gone at the hands of your husband.

“I’ve heard stories.” It was something you didn’t like but it was part of Ivar’s past.

Hvitserk let out a humorless laugh. “I don’t suppose he ever told you how exactly he rid of them.” He took your devote silence as his answer. “Tragic. Ivar’s killed every woman that I’ve ever loved, brutally. Every single one. Except you.”

There was a hushed silence after he spoke. His chest heaved and his eyes held a new profound fury in them. It was one that wasn’t for you but rather a fury that had been long pent up before he even came here. 

This anger was for Ivar.

“So what? You’re trying to get even with him by messing with me?” You shrugged. “What Ivar did was wrong, we both know that. You’re brothers. Speak to him. He’ll listen, I know he will.”

Hvitserk shook his head. He already made up his mind. He didn’t want to have a civil conversation with his brother.

“I can give you everything Ivar can’t.”

You shook your head at him. It was hard to get your point across when he didn’t even bother to listen.

“Ivar is all I want. I love him. Why can’t you understand that?”

“Because nobody loves Ivar. They fear him and he uses everyone’s fear to his advantage.”

“Well not with me. He’s changed since the last time you saw him.”

“Really?” He scoffed in disbelief getting closer.

“Really,” you stated trying so hard to stand firm and appear confident in front of him. Usually, you’d be able to read Hvitserk but he was different. He was unpredictable now.

Hvitserk placed his hands on your lower back before pulling you forward to kiss you. He held your head to him so you wouldn’t pull away. You tried moving his hands from you until you kicked his shin and pulled back.

“Why’d you do that?!” You huffed watching as he was bent over with a smile on his face. “Just leave me alone.”

“Is that an order by the queen?” He mocked. You ignored him and left him.

It was starting to become evident to Hvitserk that your loyalty lies with Ivar.

He saw the way you proudly stood by his side and consoled him when his bones started to ache.

You were both good for each other but that wouldn’t stop him from trying again. His brothers all seemed to get the women they wanted. They married and were committed to only one. He wanted that now.

He’d be damned if he let his brother take this from him. Time had passed as Hvitserk was deep in thought. The incident earlier was fresh on his mind even with Ivar in front of him going over plans.

Ivar had stopped speaking when he saw his brother’s attention was diverted when pushing his food away. His men had informed him of the incident in the farm and he wasn’t too happy about it.

“I see the way you look at her.”

“Look at who?” Hvitserk questioned without looking at his brother. He knew Ivar was smart, he just wanted to play dumb to see what he knew so far.

Ivar scoffed and shook his head at his brother.

“The way you look at my wife. I can see in your eyes what you want to do to her.”

“She’s your wife Ivar. She’s yours. It doesn’t exactly matter what I think.”

Ivar nodded. “You’re right, she is my wife.” Ivar got closer to Hvitserk so he could whisper in his ear. “I don’t share. Frankly, I get jealous. I don’t like the way you look at my wife neither the impure thoughts you’re thinking.”

Hvitserk humorlessly chuckled. “What would you like me to do then, brother?”

“I’m not speaking to you as my brother. I’m speaking to you as your king. Leave my wife alone or so help me Hvitserk, I’ll kill you.”

“You forget that I am fighting for you.”

“You’re only here because you were curious how things were here. You jumped ship for her, not me. I know you’ve had her before so as far as I’m concerned you’re loyalty isn’t with me. At least, not completely.”

Hvitserk pushed his food aside and clasped his hands together turning his full attention to Ivar. Something changed in his eyes which made Ivar tense.

“You need me Ivar. Only I know how to get you a bigger army. I know the layout of the land you want to raid and I also know where we can get silver.”

Ivar’s lip twitched in amusement.

“I can achieve all of that without you, brother.”

This time it was Hvitserk’s turn to have a condescending smirk. 

“No, you can’t. You know it and I know it. I have terms for each one I help you achieve.”

“Terms? What is it that you want Hvitserk?”

“I want your wife.”

Ivar tilted his head to the side. “No, you don’t.”

“I want her Ivar.”

“What are your terms? Come on,” he urged.

“My answer will remain the same. I want your wife.”

“You can’t have my wife. I can give you anything but her.”

Hvitserk took his sword out and pierced it into the ground. He twisted the handle turning it in the dirt.

“What you fail to realize Ivar is that you don’t really hold any real power. You don’t believe I would come here and make demands without actually having a plan of my own, do you?”

He looked up to see Ivar knitting his brow in confusion.

“What do you speak of?”

“I’ve allied myself with an army. We want the same as you. So we can either be allies or we can destroy everything you worked so hard to gain.”

“You infiltrated my camp?!” Ivar all but growled out.

Hvitserk smiled nodding his head once. He was calm which was a new look for him. Ivar was about to stand up with the help of his crutch but Hvitserk stood up and held his shoulder down.

“I’ll have your wife regardless of the decision you make. You’ve taken all that I love. Now I’ll take someone you love. You’re going to take me to her Ivar. I want you to tell her my terms.” Hvitserk lowered himself closer so Ivar could hear every word he was about to say. “I want you there when your wife gives herself to me willingly. I want you to watch as I fuck her from behind. I know how you get off just by watching.”

Hvitserk stood up straight then patted his brother’s shoulder before walking off.

Tagged: @belovedcherry​ @lordsexmachine​ @lol-haha-joke​ @mariaenchanted​ @ethereallysimple​ @bababasti​ @ir-abelas-telanadas​

[pieces-by-me]

Smiles and Snowflakes

Hello there! This is my (first) part of @waiting4inspiration​ ‘s writing challenge!! Congratulations again on 9 FREAKING thousand followers. Well deserved and a huge step🎉I couldn’t decide which way I wanted to go with this fluffy or angsty....so I did both. I really hope you all like it and that you have an amazing day or night✨☀️

Words: 1308

Warnings: fluffy and cute, nothing else. English is not my first language.

Summary: Ivar can't quite fathom how lucky he is that he found someone like her.

 Prompt:  

torn dress 

ripped books

brown hair full of snowflakes

The smile on his face grew with every second he had his eyes on her. She herself was also smiling, but not at him. She was so stuck insider her mind that she didn't even realize that he was close by. Sitting under the old oak tree up in the mountains, wind tossing her hair in gently waves through the air. Not disturbing her in any way. Her eyes floating over every page in the book she had in her hands. The closer Ivar crawled towards her, the better he could see what she was reading. It was her favorite book. Pages upon pages of different drawings of different people around the world. Her father had brought it back when he returned from one of his raids.

“Haven't you read that one at least a hundred times already?”

Ivar was right next to her looking inside her book and she hadn't even noticed that he made his way to her. She thought he was still in the Great Hall with his mother. So his sudden appearance frightened her for just a second.

“Ivar! What did I tell you of not sneaking up on me?”

“You were just to unfocused of your surroundings to see and hear me. That is your own fault.”

The smirk on his face was there as usual and she did not like it this time. She knew he was right.

“Well what are you doing here? I thought you were busy today with your family.”

“They annoyed me so I was looking for you to entertain me.”

“What a privilege for me that the prince of Kattegat wants my attention.”

The cheeky tone of her voice made his lips turn from a smirk to a small smile. He loved that she joked around him. And in her jokes he was never the punch line. She wasn't afraid of him like the others, she got closer to him because she liked him. And he liked her.

“You should feel grateful.” His tone matched hers. “Now make some room so that I can sit beside you women.”

A small huff came out of her mouth as she grabbed the hem of her dress, got on her knees and made some room for the bratty prince.

They sat under their tree for what felt like hours and seconds together. After Ivar looked at the odd drawing of her book his eyes wandered around her. Her book was interesting the first couple of times he looked through it but it soon lost his interest after the sixth. The book was old. Muddy from so many times being skimmed through. Pages already ripped form too much energy in turning the pages. Dirty and ripped, two things book shouldn't be. But Y/N loved it nevertheless.

His gaze went from her book to her hands. Also dirty as he realized. Probably form helping her mother on the farm. Higher up on her arms he saw a spot of dried earth and he had to hold himself back of brushing it away. He was no stranger having dirt on him. With him crawling everywhere his clothes rarely staid clean. Next came the shoulders, or more or less her dress. It was simple but it didn't matter. She was beautiful in anything. But he noticed that her dress had a new tear in her side, probably climbing a tree. She was one of the only girls he knew that still climbed inside trees or up on her house to better watch sunsets.

“You've torn your dress.” Why did he say that? Now she'll know that he'd stared at her to notice.

Her eyes didn't leave the page but her hand brushed over the torn fabric.

“Mother might fix it.” And that was that.

Ivar let out a little breath, glad he was not caught in staring. So without guild he continued looking at her. The sun was behind clouds so it didn't shine on her face but he could still see every freckle that spotted her face. It made him smile again. He could look at her forever and never be tired of her. His mother would always tease him of his love for his friend, even though he denied it every time. But sometimes he wondered if his mother was right. Never had he felt like this with someone else. Not his parents, his brothers or other people in Kattegat. Every time he was with Y/N his world was less painful and more warm. So maybe he did love her. Maybe not. He didn't care to think too much about it. Only wanting to stay in this little bubble they were both in right now.

“You're staring again.”

Now he was caught, but strangely he didn't look away when her eyes met his.

“So?”

“Why are you staring again? You must know by now how I look.” Her words were said with a smile. Because it was true, she caught him staring at her a couple of times by now.

“You keep looking at your drawing over and over because you like them so much, so why can't I look at something I like?”

Ivar had no idea where the bravery came to say these words. Every one was true. He was glad he said them, because otherwise he would have never seen the wide and round eyes he was met with right now. Smiling he kept looking as Y/N struggled to find words.

“I...well..I can understand that....so you can keep looking.” She rushed through her words and when she finished her eyes went back to her books, cheeks looking far more pink now then what they were before.

Her flushed appearance brought a lough out of Ivar, one she loved to hear very much, and a smile on her face. Because she may not know what she felt for this temperamental, judgmental and sometime nasty boy beside her, but she always liked it when he was next to her. Never making her feel like the poor girl she really was. Always like the most valued person in all of Midgard.

The both of them could have set there for hours, neither of them would have minded. And neither of them noticed the wether getting colder. Sitting so close together made them warm.

But after silently looking through her book, and him leaning on the tree with his eyes closed, she turned towards him. Only now seeing the snow that slowly made it's way from the sky to the ground.

Y/N called out Ivar's name to wake him up. It took her a couple of shakes to his arm to finally make him open his eyes. “It's snowing and I think it's getting late. Maybe we should go back home.”

Stretching his arms above his head he answered. “Good idea, but only if you come to the hall. Mother would love to see you again.” And he also didn't want her to go already.

“I'd love to. I did't see her last time.” And she also didn't want to leave him just yet.

So the unlikely pair of the poor girl with the love for books and the crawling angry prince made their way back down the mountain and towards their home. Almost at the hall the two looked at each other again and laughed. Both being clothed in big, soft snowflakes. Y/n shook out her dress while Ivar tried to rid himself of them from his tunic. But his brown hair was full of snowflakes too so she bend down to him. He kept every move of her in his eyes, slowly smiling as her hands went threw his strands and ridding him of the cold flakes. Sending him a grin back, they entered the hall.

_____________________________

Part 2 of the challenge is here : Tiers and Snowflakes

I forgot to tag people🙈

@youbloodymadgenius @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie

please leave a comment or like and tell me how you found this! And as alway have a nice day/night✨

[collecting-stories]

Cardigan - Rafe Cameron

Request: heyy for the ts anthology, can u do one for cardigan with rafe? love ur writing🤍 

TS Anthology Series | Outer Banks Masterlist

_ . ◦ ⭐︎:*.☾.*:⭐︎◦∙._

The summer you turned thirteen was the same summer your dad showed up again. Driving the same lemon of a car that he’d pulled out of the driveway in when you were six, he looked like he hadn’t aged. Or maybe you just didn’t remember him all that well because his face felt the same but you were different. When you missed your best friend’s birthday, a trip to the gymnastics gym on the mainland and a towering cake with fondant replicas of all her favorite things, she was rightly pissed.  

Thirteen felt monumental, like the movie the two of you had snuck onto your mom’s Verizon bill, and you had both made a pact that you would be there for each other no matter what. That promise included birthdays and, more seriously, dads who showed up after seven years of radio silence because they didn’t want to “miss anything else”. But you didn’t mention your dad because hers was so great and you felt a little like you were floating on an island and no one could understand you enough to reach it. But then you missed her birthday and she swore not to speak to you and that felt more crushing than the dad thing until her brother stepped in. Always the one playing referee in when you fought, Rafe was a few years older and, in your mind, a lot smarter.  

It felt pretty important that an older boy would make the time to talk to you, especially when he had to know that his sister was avoiding you at all costs. He’d just gotten his permit and, like any good brother, showed up in the car he wasn’t supposed to drive with a minor in the passenger seat, to take you around the island for the afternoon.  

“My mom said she thinks we’re gonna move.” You mentioned, less casually than you would’ve hoped. The windows in the truck were rolled down and you had your legs up, feet placed precariously on the window ledge. There was a particularly nasty bruise on your knee from falling off your skateboard three days ago and a few short hairs you’d missed shaving. You were relatively new to both shaving and skateboarding so there were bound to be mistakes, you just wished they were less visible.  

“Off the island?” Rafe asked, concern etched into his tone. You assumed the concern was for his sister, what would Sarah do if you moved? Who would put up with all her antics?

You shook your head, “to the cut.”

“Why?”

“She can’t afford the house on her own anymore and my dad has been lousy with child support.” You repeated back all the things she had said to you. Why she didn’t take him to court like the other kid in your grade with divorced parents was beyond you. Rose told her that it was the only way to ensure he paid what he was supposed to but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to hold him accountable.  

Can’t believe you’re gonna be a pogue.” He said it like it meant something worse than you moving to the mainland.

“It’s not forever. My grandma’s house is there, we’re gonna stay with her until we can get back up on our feet.” You shrugged, “at least my dad’ll stay away then.”

But you dad wasn’t the only one who kept their distance. It felt like the distinction over your mother’s life choices held a greater impact on your friends than they had let on. A year into pogue life and Rafe seemed to disappear almost completely. It had always been an odd kind of friendship in the first place but you’d thought that it could’ve withstood a change in address.  

Sarah kept in touch, unbothered by labels or mailing addresses. She’d been to your grandma’s a hundred times before you moved and she continued to go there to see you after. The two of you played in the backyard, doing tricks on the trampoline until gossiping about kids at school became more important than cartwheels. You’d lay there whispering as if someone might overhear, telling each other stories from the week that you were separated. Rafe always came to pick her up, staying in the car and honking the horn for her but never coming over to see you.  

It felt a little lonely even though you technically retained most of your friends.  

-

In tenth grade you got the role of Eponine in the teen camp production of Les Miserables that the local theatre was putting on. You were technically sharing the role with another girl your age but you couldn’t help being excited nonetheless. The boy playing Marius was in two of your classes, a senior who had lofty city dreams and a nice smile. He flirted almost constantly with you, brushing your hair back, telling you how pretty you were, inviting you out after practice. You told Sarah you were “pretty sure” you were on your way to having your first real boyfriend.  

But maybe the ominous casting of Eponine over your life should’ve been hint enough that things weren’t destined to work out that way. The boy who played Marius had an actual girlfriend, home from vacationing with her family in time to watch her boyfriend on stage, and you were supposed to accept that he was just “connecting to the character” when he was with you. Either way, your On My Own struck a different chord in you and after the show was over you didn’t join the other cast members in the lobby to greet people.  

“So when you get to New York...do I get to leak all those videos of you and Sarah doing your Genie in a Bottle routine?” Rafe asked, pulling a chair next to you at the makeup table. Yours was halfway off but you’d stopped scrubbing at your face to stare at yourself in the mirror. Self-pity was a powerful procrastinator.

“You’re supposed to be in the lobby.” You pointed out, ignoring his comment, “I look like a ghost raccoon that just climbed out of a dumpster.  

“Now there’s an analogy.” He laughed and picked up the cotton pads you had sitting on the counter, soaking one in micellar water and turning your head to face him.  

You bit your bottom lip as you tried to keep your composure. It’d been a while since you and Rafe had been alone and last time he was just your best friend’s cute older brother. Too old for you and way out of your league but you were fifteen now and seventeen didn’t feel so far away.  

But Sarah was your best friend and she would be mortified if she found out that you had even entertained the idea of her brother, let alone had serious thoughts about it.  

“I’m sorry,” you said as he swiped the cotton pad over your cheek.

“What for?”  

“I know we’re all supposed to go out tonight for dinner but I kinda just wanna go home.” You replied.  

“Sarah might’ve let it slip about-”

You groaned, “don’t even say his name.” You weren’t sure if it was embarrassment at having let yourself totally believe he liked you but hearing Rafe bring it up made you feel even worse.

“Hey, you’re so much better than that loser,” He insisted, “I’ll beat the crap outta him though, just say the word.”

-

It was that same year, just as school was ending, that you turned sixteen. A short stay in the cut at your grandma’s house had helped your mom get back on her feet. A new job, better than the one that let her go, afforded a moderately sized house back on Figure Eight and a birthday with all the friends that had left the two of you behind.  

Sixteen felt a little more important than thirteen had, especially because, for two whole weeks, time suspended and you were technically only a year younger than Rafe. You still hadn’t told Sarah that you liked her brother, though she did seem a little suspicious when the crush on your co-star dissipated almost overnight. The boys of the past had no hold over your growing infatuation with Rafe. Maybe it was foolish but you couldn’t help thinking that maybe it wasn’t.  

Especially not when he showed up at your house the same way he had when you were thirteen, though this time he had his actual license and not just a permit. He told you it was birthday drive around the island, that he was in charge of stalling you while Sarah set up a surprise party at your house.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to tell me that it’s a surprise.” You teased, sipping at the iced coffee that Rafe had brought you when he picked you up. You swished the ice around once before sipping again.  

“It’s a party either way.” Rafe replied, shrugging his shoulder.  

“So, we’re just driving around until she texts you?” You asked. Rafe turned into the Island Club, circling the parking lot once and then turning back around.  

“I’m yours until Sarah says otherwise.” He said, the words erupting butterflies in your stomach. You could practically feel yourself heat up thinking about what those words could mean if he wasn’t just your best friend’s brother.  

“Well...then do you wanna go to the beach?” You suggested, “Jaxon showed me this really cool spot on the south side that’s practically hidden.”

“Jaxon?” Rafe sounded judgmental when he said the other boy’s name, whether he meant to or not.  

“Yea, we’ve been on a couple dates. You know him, he took me to prom,” you supplied, thinking of the way Rafe had sulked on the staircase while you and Sarah had gotten your pictures taken on the front lawn of Tanney Hill. The last picture in the bunch, despite his sulkiness, was of you and Rafe. You’d asked and he had obliged, coming down onto the porch to take a picture with you before everyone left for the dance.  

It was your favorite picture, even more than the countless ones of you and Sarah or the few of you and Jaxon. He was just a place holder anyway, someone to take your mind off the thing you couldn’t have. Not that it was working, especially when you were driving around with Rafe at the moment.  

“I remember him.” Rafe replied, “so this special part of the beach?”

“It’s so pretty.” You confirmed, “Sarah and I went there a couple weeks ago but she only ever wants to sunbathe.”  

“Don’t say it like you’re surprised.” He said, pulling his car off to the side of the road when you told him to.  

You were out of the car first, letting the door fall shut behind you as you headed up the wooden ramp to the beach. The drop off at the top was a little steeper here than anywhere else, the beach mostly desolate. You stopped at the top of the walkway, turning back to wait for Rafe. He was standing at the bottom of the ramp staring up at you.  

“Are you coming up or what?” You called.  

“Yeah,” he nodded, walking up the path to you.  

“I know Sarah’s planning a big birthday for me, but I’d much rather have this...” you admitted, “just like, coming out to the beach with you...”  

“Oh yeah?” He asked, grinning down at you.  

“Don’t tell Sarah,” you joked, “she’ll be mad-”

“Why, cause I’m your favorite Cameron?”

Maybe it was being sixteen or maybe it was that you were feeling particularly bold, out here on the beach with just Rafe, no threat of prying eyes to interrupt you. Either way, you had been thinking about telling him for a while now and it felt like the time...even if getting rejected ran the risk of ruining your birthday.  

“I know I’m just Sarah’s best friend but...I really like you Rafe.” You said, “and I know it’s like a million to one that you like me back but I just felt like I would explode if I didn’t tell you.” You waited a beat for him to say something and when he didn’t you kept talking, “Sorry, I know this is so weird-”

“It’s not weird.” Rafe cut you off, “I’m just shocked that you seriously think I only see you as Sarah’s best friend.” His tone was teasing as he brushed a piece of hair behind your ear and cupped your cheek. “You’re so much more than that.”

-

It was Sarah who told you, days before your eighteenth birthday. She’d seen Rafe with someone else when her family took a weekend trip out to Chapel Hill to see a game. There was a girl there, hanging all over her brother. He swore she was just a friend, told Sarah not to tell you, but Sarah wasn’t dumb and she wouldn’t help her brother cover up an indiscretion. So she told you flat out that her brother was cheating on you.  

When Sarah first found out that you and Rafe were dating, she had been as mad as her thirteenth birthday. How could you go behind her back and date her brother? The anger dissipated slowly, over the course of the summer it became clear that were not going to leave her in the dust for Rafe. She wasn’t wholly supportive of the relationship but she was supportive of you and if Rafe was who you wanted to be with than she’d be happy for you.  

But if she had to choose, it would always be you over Rafe.  

“I didn’t want to tell you, I really thought about not saying anything but...you deserve to know.” It was the justification she used as your face fell, all the giddiness from planning your eighteenth birthday fading in the blink of an eye.  

“He cheated?” And it felt like a punch to the gut. “Are you sure?”

“He said she was just a friend but...I don’t hang on my friends like that.” Sarah remarked.  

You fiddled with the phone in your lap, Sarah’s comments turning over in your head. You could refute them, tell her that you’d just talked to him the night before and he told you how excited he was to see you, how much he loved you. He’d used the word love...that had to mean something right? You could call him, ask him straight away if he was actually cheating, but you suspected that he would only lie to you. And if he wasn’t cheating, if he did tell the truth, would you believe him? Sarah was your best friend and once she had planted the seeds of doubt in you, they seemed to flourish there.  

You didn’t say anything else about it to Sarah that night and when Rafe called to talk, like he always did, you pretended that everything was fine. But that could only last for so long. A week before your party, on the same special part of the beach that Rafe had first kissed you, things ended. Rafe had sworn to Sarah that the girl at school was just a friend but he couldn’t lie to you, and he didn’t try to either.  

“It was a mistake,” he insisted, as if it was the type of thing you could brush off.  

“But you still made it.” You replied.  

“I didn’t mean to.” Rafe didn’t have any good reasons for why he had cheated on, only that he had and that, since you now knew, he was apologetic. “I don’t even talk to that girl anymore. She meant nothing to me.”

“Obviously she meant more than we did.”  

Rafe had been it for you for a long time. He seemed so out of your league and you had thought a million times that you would’ve done anything for him. He was the ideal for everything that you wanted and for a while, when you had it, had him, it had felt like a dream. But now you were waking up to reality and it wasn’t a sunset on the beach.  

“I love you.” He said it like it was something you were neglecting to remember.  

“Not enough.”