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#considering adding another tag here but hmm
birdcatt · 7 months
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2 of my pmd ocs, scylla and vanya
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venusdandy · 2 months
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God's Rival
[Hazbin Hotel x GN!Reader] [Platonic]
[Part Two]
Story Summary: The Demiurge is what they decided to call you. You aren't human, angel, or demon. You're something else entirely—an enigma in each realm. The only being who had ever shown you kindness was the fallen angel Lucifer since he freed you from Heaven's prison by offering Eve the apple from your tree. You promised him a fruitful favor in exchange, but he has not asked anything from you. Until now, that is.
Chapter Summary: In the back garden area of the Hazbin Hotel, you're summoned to Hell by Lucifer's and Charlie's combined magic. You finally meet the human souls—your spiritual children, who you sensed were saying your name last evening. You're delighted to be able to aid your dear friend Lucifer in protecting his family and home from Heaven.
Warnings: Gender-neutral reader (they/them pronouns). No use of (y/n). The reader is genderless and AroAce—platonic relationships with the characters only.
A/N: I wanted to let everyone know this story is now on AO3 (VenusDandy)! I also have a tag list here if you'd like to be added.
Part 1 Part 2 (here)
Your eyes are closed as you relax in your hammock and feel the sunlight warm your soul. You're humming a song you heard from your last visit to Earth that's been unable to leave your head. The birds in the trees above you had begun to sing along.
A sudden strong gust of wind nearly knocks you off, but you're quick to grasp the sides of the hammock to help balance. You quietly laugh to yourself as you peek an eye open. One of your creations, a pteranodon, landed a few feet away from you at the lake's edge to eat some fish.
For this reason, you keep the lake closest to your palace filled with life. The amount of happiness you receive when you see your creations eating gives your soul well-needed peace. You love seeing your children happy!
Speaking of your children, you feel that familiar vibration in your soul telling you a human has mentioned your name. A side effect after Eve ate the apple from your tree was that it forever connected your soul to humankind—your spiritual children.
Four deceased humans that have become demons, a fallen angel, and the Princess and King of Hell themselves are discussing you. You feel honored that they are considering asking for your help. You mainly use your energy and time to maintain the mortal realm's chaos and observe alive human souls. You pay less attention once they pass into the afterlife since it is not your domain.
Another chuckle escapes your lips. You have been wondering when Lucifer would cash in the favor you owe him. You were beginning to believe he had forgotten. Although you would prefer to continue staying out of Hell's and Heaven's pissing contest, if Lucifer requests for you to aid him, you have no objections to that. You respect the eldest Morningstar greatly after all he has done for you and humanity.
A content sigh leaves your lips as you go back to humming. You'll indeed be summoned to Hell by Lucifer soon, so you'll use your remaining time in the mortal realm to relax.
.
One last time, Lucifer scrambles around the immense sigil engraved in the dirt of the Hazbin Hotel's abandoned garden. He's pretty sure he's drawn your sigil correctly; he's only ever seen it once when you emerged from the apple tree in Eden, so it's entirely from memory.
"Okay," Lucifer semi-confidently says, "Okay, I think I got it."
Alastor has a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he hums, "Hmm, try walking around it ten more times to make sure."
Lucifer huffs with a glare. "Why are you even here? There's no reason for you to be here right now!"
"Who am I not to greet our guest who will aid us in war?" Alastor says with a twirl of his cane, "As the manager of this Hotel, that is my duty!"
Vaggie quickly stands in front of everyone with her hands on her hips. "Alright, let's go over this again!"
Vaggie points to Angel, "No flirting with the Demiurge!"-then to Husk-"No sarcastic remarks that can piss them off!"-then to Niffty, "No knives or sharp things that would threaten them!"-Then to Alastor "And no making deals with the Demiurge! Got it?"
Varying agreements ring out, some more irritated than others, but it satisfies Vaggie nonetheless.
Charlie is excited and slightly nervous as she stands next to her father. Lucifer had said he'd need her assistance for the summoning ritual since it requires powerful Celestial magic. Not just anyone can summon the Demiurge.
Lucifer lets out a breath of anxiety and rubs his bare hands together. "Ready, Charlie? Do you remember what we rehearsed?" He asks with a nervous smile.
Charlie nods firmly. "Ready!"
Lucifer and Charlie then shift into their more demonic forms to channel more of their magic before twirling their arms in graceful mannerisms. Lucifer begins chanting in the ancient Celestial language, which causes the sigil in the dirt to glow golden.
Vaggie anxiously clutches herself as her gaze never leaves Charlie's form. She knows her lover is powerful and capable of protecting herself, but Vaggie can't help but worry about her. A gentle, clawed hand rests on her shoulder, causing her to shift her gaze to her left, seeing Alastor grinning down at her. He doesn't say a word, but his eyes share a confident reassurance that strangely makes her feel a bit better.
The ground beneath them all began to rumble as if an Earthquake was happening. Niffty laughs as she uncontrollably falls to the ground, but Angel quickly swoops in and holds her tightly.
Once Lucifer and Charlie finish the ritual, they take a few careful steps back to join the others.
The sigil's golden glow brightens, then dims to nothing just as quickly. The ground beneath them stills once again. Everyone doesn't move as they wait for what will happen next. . .
Before Lucifer could question if he performed the ritual incorrectly, a large blaze of golden flames twists above the sigil, causing a few surprised gasps. Within the fire, a silhouette could be seen taking form.
Strong gusts of wind swirling around nearly blow the habitants of the Hazbin Hotel off their feet. They're quick to grasp onto each other for stability, other than Alastor, who uses his tendrils of shadow to ground himself.
Once the wind finally puts the fire out, it gradually falls into a light breeze. At the center of the sigil is a deity that stands at 120 meters. A golden-scaled serpent with the head of a mighty golden-brown lion. Their eyes glow brightly and shine into Hell's eerie red sky, and their sharp teeth are a perfect white—the Demiurge's true form.
You stare down at the beings who summoned you. Your eyes land on Lucifer, who stares up at you with a nervous smile. He looks more tired than how you remember him. He slowly waves, and you roar to greet him a bit too loudly since some of the beings below clutch their ears.
You then close your eyes as you shift into your humanoid form so you can speak eye-to-eye with everyone—the sounds of bones breaking and reshaping echo around everyone grossly.
Once you take your desired form, you eagerly reopen your eyes with a giant smile. You're very excited! "Lucifer Morningstar, how have you been, my dear friend?"
Although Lucifer was surprised you called him a friend, it eased his anxiety about you being here. He clears his throat awkwardly before greeting you properly with your name. "I've been uh- I've certainly been better, but I'm still kicking. Heh."
"Happiness is not a destination; it is a neverending journey." You remark with a hum, "I hope after we deal with Heaven's aggression toward Hell that it will ease your worries and bring happiness to you all."
The fact you already know why you've been summoned surprises everyone. You were in another realm far away from them, weren't you? How could you possibly know why Lucifer summoned you? Now Lucifer's anxiety peaks again. You're far too knowledgeable, and it makes him feel you're at least 100 steps ahead of him. It could be good or bad, depending on the context of your aspirations.
You shift your attention to the Princess and send her a kind smile. "Princess Charlie, it is a pleasure to meet you finally! I've heard wonderful things about you along the grapevine, child." You reach a hand out to greet her, noticing the younger fallen angel beside her tense up.
Charlie nervously smiles back as she shakes your hand. "Oh? It's lovely to meet you as well! I've heard things- good things about you from my dad."
Your eyes crinkle in amusement. You then glance amongst the four human souls staring at you intensely; you can sense their bubbling emotions. "I thought I heard my title being said last evening."
The look of regret is visible as Angel pales. The way you phrased it doesn't sound very good, as if you knew every word discussed about you last night—or rather ever. And Angel said some crude remarks about you! Husk is a bit nervous, too, since he straight-up said you have mommy issues. Your mommy issues got you locked away for millions of years because you lashed out at Heaven! And Husk does not want to be on the receiving end of your chaos! Niffty wouldn't mind your chaos, though.
"So, that means you're aware I'd like to ask that favor of you finally?" Lucifer asks uncertainly, "I'll admit I was hesitant to call upon you since I don't know how you feel about Heaven these days."
You hum in acknowledgment. "A fair judgment, although I have no qualms about protecting Hell from Heaven. You all fought in self-defense against the exorcists." You smile at each soul, "I shall do everything in my power to aid you all, although I must warn you, Heaven will not be pleased that the Demiurge will be fighting against them once again."
With her golden heart, Charlie grabs your hands with a much calmer smile. "We won't force you to do anything you aren't comfortable with! We all will understand if fighting against Heaven isn't safe for you."
Your old heart beats with bittersweet happiness at Charlie's words. You've heard about her kind-hearted personality, but witnessing it firsthand puts it in perspective. You see so much of her father in her.
You squeeze her hands reassuringly. "I appreciate your kindness greatly, child."-you gently release her hands-"I'm afraid that once it is known that I am aiding Hell, Heaven will send their most powerful Celestial beings, ones that only Lucifer and I have fought against."
Alastor quietly hums at that. He's a lot bit egotistical, but even he must admit that sounds rather dramatic. Your eyes then meet his, making his ears twitch back slightly. You're difficult to read. Much like him, your smile hasn't faltered, though yours is more genuine than his stitched grin.
"Alastor the Radio Demon," your amused voice rings out, "Did you want to say something, my child?"
Slight unease is bubbling inside Alastor, causing his claws to tap the top of his microphone cane. He doesn't like feeling this way. Masking his nerves, he tilts his head and keeps his smile strong. "The Demiurge has heard of me? Why, I'm quite honored my broadcasts have reached your ears!"
Your eyes squint with a lighthearted gleam. "I remember your radio broadcasts from when you were alive, too, my child."
The unexpected words cause Alastor's eyes to blow wide. Alive? How much does the Demiurge know about him, exactly? He doesn't like being this much in the unknown or having this much lack of control. . .
Your attention shifts to the other three human souls. "And here we have Anthony or Angel Dust, as you prefer. Then, the former Gambling Demon Husk. And Niffty, the demon who slaughtered the first man, Adam." You smile warmly, "It is a pleasure to meet you all, my children."
Niffty giggles at the memory, not bothered by you or your information on her or her friends. "I did do that!"
On the other hand, Angel is frowning because he has a clue that you don't know him because of his career here in Hell. That you know his darkest secrets and hidden emotions from when he was alive. Now he's starting to get why Lucifer was hesitant to summon you. . .
Husk's brows are furrowed. Clearly, from just witnessing your natural form that could rival Godzilla, you're not the average soul. You already know them all, even hinting that you know of their lives as humans. Was this basic knowledge the Demiurge already had, or did you do research beforehand? Husk isn't sure, but he plans to monitor you closely.
Charlie nervously clasps her hands in front of her. She's a bit unnerved you already know everyone, but then again, for a deity like you, that knowledge is probably easily accessible.
Vaggie, not about to let your creepy knowledge of them slide, asks with a threatening undertone, "How exactly do you already know why Lucifer and Charlie summoned you? And care to explain why you know a little too much about everyone?"
Lucifer snaps his worried eyes to Maggie Vaggie. He had the same questions, but he wasn't about to go and ask them! What if you get irritated?! What if you leave?!
You smile warmly at the young fallen angel, hoping to calm her protective soul, "You must be Vaggie; it is a pleasure to meet you, child."
Her eyes squint with suspicion, and if Charlie weren't holding onto her waist so tightly, she'd have waltzed on over to you. You dodged her question!
Lucifer loudly claps his hands, bringing everyone's attention back to him. With a nervous chuckle, he says, "I know how much being summoned to another realm can zap your energy, so how about we take a moment to rest inside and get better acquainted? What'd you say?"
You nod in agreement. "I would greatly appreciate that, friend."
You look back to Vaggie, "Then I will answer your questions, child." That brings some relief to Vaggie. At least you're willing to give answers. . .
With the others following close behind, Lucifer leads you into the Hazbin Hotel, asking if you are hungry or thirsty and listing too many options. He doesn't know how posh you are and is trying his best to please you. He's so afraid of you lashing out.
You understand why Lucifer is nervous about your presence; you would also be if you were in his position. Lucifer was one of the many angels from Heaven sent to investigate your existence. He witnessed your absolute most destructive moment when you lashed out at Heaven with all you had. You don't look back on the memory of your younger self fondly, but you do not regret your choices. You witnessed Heaven slaughter your children, and you couldn't save them back then.
You want Lucifer to know he is your friend, and you will never hurt him or his family. He never hurt you or your children; you remember him protecting them.
With a whisper of a touch on his shoulder, Lucifer interrupts himself and instead looks to you. You don't say a word, but the empathetic glow in your eyes calms every worry Lucifer has about you.
Lucifer can see in your eyes that you are genuinely here to help them, to help him and his family.
With a more comfortable smile resting on his lips, Lucifer tells you, "I'll make us all pancakes!"
If Heaven plans to slaughter your children here in Hell, well, you'll just have to slaughter the angels first.
.
Tag List: @paastaboi @gasoline-eater @rabioa @m00nd0v3
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Worth Breaking Plans For | Tommy Shelby x Reader
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Request: yes by anonymous
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader
Summary: Tommy Shelby never thought he'd willingly go to see a ballet…that was until he found out that (Y/N) was performing in one. (Y/N) (Y/L/N) never thought she was someone worth breaking plans for…that was until Tommy came into her life.
Warnings: drinking and one bad word
Word Count: 4238
A/N: I’ve got another long one for ya here…the words just wouldn’t stop haha. This one was super fun to write. I hope I added enough ballerina elements for you, anon. If you haven’t got your fill by the end of it though, @padfootdaredmetoo has an amazing ballerina!reader series that you should check out! Enjoy! :)
PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!
Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!
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(Y/N) just barely had the time to take in her surroundings before she was having a flute of champagne thrust in her direction. "Here," the drink was accompanied by the words of her friend, Lou, "have a few of these and you'll be settled in in no time."
"Thank you," (Y/N) gingerly replied, accepting the glass and bringing it up to her lips so that she could take a sip of the bubbly liquid. She then smiled at her friends, who were intently watching for any microexpression she would share with them. "It's good," she told them, feeling a little silly for even saying that in the first place.
"Good," Julia affirmed, a smile present on her face as she watched her friend take another sip, "let's get into this party now!" she cheered, taking hold of (Y/N)'s hand so that she, and Lou, could lead her deeper into the establishment.
(Y/N) took that time to look around in awe. She hadn't attended many of these parties - as if that hadn't been obvious enough - and was eager to soak in every aspect of it that she could. Spending time with a few friends from her company at either her flat or a smaller venue was more her speed, but that didn't mean she wasn't excited to see the other half of the spectrum.
"Did you hear what Lou said, (Y/N)?" the sound of Julia's voice broke into her thoughts, making her focus on her friends again.
"I'm sorry, I didn't," she admitted, a sheepish smile present on her face. They'd been here for a handful of minutes now and yet there were details of the venue and revelry that she still hadn't caught onto. She didn't feel too bad for being lost in the atmosphere of it all.
"I was saying that I've gotten word about there being some rather prominent figures at this party," Lou repeated herself, a grin forming on her face.
"Prominent in what sense?" (Y/N) couldn't help but ask. She had a right to, considering that she and her two friends were members of one of the most prestigious ballet companies that ran in London and its surrounding areas. Technically they could be considered part of the 'prominent figures' being talked about.
"I've heard everything from entertainers, to politicians, and even..." Julia trailed off, glancing around before she leaned closer to the other two women, her grin growing as she went to finish off her statement, "gangsters."
"Why did you say it in that way?" (Y/N) couldn't help but giggle at her friend's delivery of the word.
"Because the thought of it is so utterly...interesting," Julia responded.
“And exhilarating,” Lou added.
"Wouldn’t it be fun to meet a gangster?" Julia finished off with a question, making Lou nod, a giddy grin present on her face as she added a few more words of agreement.
"Hmm...I suppose," (Y/N) aired more on the coy side of things, looking out at the sea of people that were attending the party. She found it slightly hard to believe that there were actual gangsters scattered amongst these innocent looking party-goers. Maybe it'd only be those fake kinds...like the ones you'd see in the pictures.
"Come on ladies, let's find ourselves a gangster!" Julia cheered, obviously not letting the distinction bog her mind down. She clapped her hands together before leading the other two even further into the venue.
(Y/N) took that time to do some more looking around, her eyes dancing from the band, to the extravagant decorations, to the many people who seemed to be having the time of their lives. Amidst the looking, her eyes stopped on a man...one who immediately stood out from the rest of the people she'd been watching so far. She couldn't help but let her eyes linger on him for a longer amount of time. He just looked so...interesting, for lack of better words, and she found herself entranced by him.
She let her eyes linger on him until Lou broke into her thoughts - yet again - this time going on about seeing a familiar face that she wanted to go speak to. So with slight dismay, she broke her stare and followed her friends.
"Ada Thorne! It really is you!" Lou exclaimed as the three women approached another one, who had brown hair and a well-dressed figure.
"Lou! It's so good to see you!" the woman replied in a similar fashion to the initial greeting, a wide smile forming on her face. "Goodness, you've brought friends as well," she added, her eyes focusing on the other two ladies.
"Yes, I have," Lou answered with a smile, "this is Julia and (Y/N), they're both in the same company as me," she then went about the introductions.
"It's nice to meet you ladies. Lou always goes on and on about the women she performs with...it's so nice to finally put some faces to the stories," Ada said, smiling as she spoke.
"So how have things been with you?" Lou then moved to the small talk portion of the conversation, her eyebrows raised as she awaited a response.
(Y/N) figured that she didn't really need to be a part of the conversation anymore, so she happily went back to people watching. Much to her upset, she couldn't find the man she'd been fixated on earlier, no matter how hard she looked for him. That didn't mean that she didn't still enjoy taking in her surroundings once more.
She stayed locked into her own world until the feeling of Julia jabbing her side brought her out of it. "Goodness, what's that for?" she asked her friend, her eyes snapping to the other woman as she sent her a glare.
"You've been in your own world while we're being introduced to someone here," she hissed, nodding her head to the left to indicate that someone else had joined the group in the meantime.
(Y/N) was a bit nervous to look, feeling bashful all of a sudden for not having proper party manners. But she had to look, because it quickly became apparent that the conversation wasn't going on without it. So she did, and the sight that was awaiting her made her mouth go dry in seconds. Standing before her was the man...the one that she'd been transfixed on earlier. She suddenly hoped that her jaw hadn't gone slack at the realization as she scrambled to think of something to say.
"You'll have to forgive me...I like to take in my surroundings whenever I'm able to," she said to the man, a sheepish smile forming on her face.
"All is forgiven," the man brushed her apology off without second thought. The gruffness in his voice moved her in ways that she truly hadn't been moved before. That, coupled with the intensity of his ocean blue eyes that were currently focused on her, made her feel like her knees could give out at any moment.
"My name's (Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N)," (Y/N) then decided to introduce herself, figuring that the group had already gotten past that step and was waiting for her to catch up.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, (Y/N)," the man said with a slight, greeting-typed nod before continuing, "my name's Tommy. Tommy Shelby," he then offered up his name, along with his hand for her to shake.
"Pleasure to meet you as well, Tommy," she responded to him, accepting the handshake with a kind smile.
"Tommy's my brother," Ada then entered the conversation, making (Y/N) remember that there were others around her, and that she wasn't just standing by herself with this man. "He says he's in town on business, but I think he's come to keep tabs on me," she added, a grin forming on her face as she took a playful jab at her sibling.
"It's nice to meet you, Tommy," Julia offered a greeting similar to (Y/N)'s, which made her wonder if maybe introductions hadn't been completed yet.
"These ladies all belong to one of the finest ballet companies this city has to offer," Ada then gave her brother some more information on the women he'd just been introduced to, her words making Lou playfully chide her.
Small talk re-commenced then, and (Y/N) tried to stay with it for the sake of not making another awkward mistake. She found it hard to be completely focused though, because no matter what she did, she couldn't quite keep her eyes off of Tommy.
——
"Well this is a surprise," Ada remarked when she opened the door to find her brother on the other side of it.
"Do you have plans for this evening?" Tommy asked, deciding to skip the greetings and get to the reason he was standing outside her door.
"I don't," Ada, thankfully, answered without much thought, "is there something you need me for?"
"I need you to come with me," Tommy continued, fishing his watch out of its pocket so that he could make sure he was still on time.
"Where?" now she was answering like the Ada he knew.
"There's a show going on at the theatre...I wanted to go to it and figured you'd might want to come," he gave her some vague details.
"And what is this show exactly?" she asked, tilting her head to the side in a questioning manner.
"Just come with me, Ada," he answered in a dismissive tone, not exactly wanting to play twenty questions at this moment.
Ada pursed her lips, not happy that her brother was being abrupt with her. She took a few moments to think his proposal over, secretly loving how the wait was driving him crazy. "I'll come," she finally agreed to his plan, "just let me make sure that Karl can be watched first," she added, turning and going back into the house to find that live-in nanny and tell her that she was going out.
"I never thought there'd come a day where Tommy Shelby would willingly go to a ballet," Ada commented with a smirk as she and Tommy found their seats in the front row of the upper balcony. She'd been sending these little jabs his way since she got the program and realized what show he was bringing them to.
"Ada," Tommy spoke in a warning tone, having heard enough of her teasing.
"Fine, I'll stop," she conceded, although she was trying her best to withhold her giggles.
Tommy just shook his head and turned his attention to the stage's curtains. He could see from the corner of his eye that Ada had opened the program and started flipping through it. He was thankful that she'd now found something else to do. But he wasn't out of the woods just yet.
"Which of the ladies is it?" she asked after a few minutes had passed, her words making him turn to look at her with furrowed brows. "Of the women we met at the party...which one is it?" she added more clarification.
Tommy went to speak, but the house lights dimming stopped - saved - him from having to answer. A round of applause coursed through the theatre as the curtains were pulled aside and the performance began. Tommy spent the next hour or so keeping his eyes fixed on the woman he hadn't been able to rid his mind of since he last saw her at the party.
"Oh my, this is so lovely," (Y/N) cooed as she accepted the single flower and hand-drawn picture from one of the girls that had come backstage to meet her, "thank you so much!"
"I drew the picture myself," the girl boasted, her words making (Y/N) look at the picture to see that there were two ballerinas drawn on it: one bigger and one smaller. "I want to be a ballerina one day when I grow up," the girl added, a toothy smile forming on her face.
"You keep practicing and you may just be on stage with us one day," (Y/N) told her, an encouraging smile present on her face.
The group of girls said their goodbyes then, their mothers calling them back over so that they could leave. That was when (Y/N) looked up to see a familiar figure leaning against the wall not too far away. The breath got stuck in her throat as she became focused on him; feeling the exact same feelings she'd experienced at the party. Goodness, he just had this aura to him.
"Tommy," she hated that she said his name a little too eagerly, "I...I would have never expected to see you here," she couldn't help but voice her surprise.
"I was in town and figured I'd come to see a show," he brushed her statement off with a slight shrug of his shoulders after he pushed himself off of the wall to move closer to her.
"Did you come alone?" she just had to ask.
"No, Ada came as well. She went off to find your friend...Lou, I believe it was," he answered, glancing down at the items she was holding then. "Had I known you were accepting gifts, I would have brought one," he said, motioning to the flowers and bears she had in her arms.
"Oh no...that's not necessary," she brushed him off, trying to ignore the giddy feeling she was now getting in her stomach.
"You did well," he complimented her performance, tucking his hands into his pockets as he spoke.
"Thank you," (Y/N) accepted the compliment with a smile. She looked down at the things she was holding then, feeling the heat rise within her more with each second that they held eye contact.
"You know..." Tommy started, clearing his throat before continuing, "you should at least let me take you for a drink; since I came here empty-handed."
His words brought (Y/N)'s eyes back up to his in a flash, and he most certainly caught the look of surprise she was wearing before she tried hard to hide it. "Oh you don't have to do that," she tried to brush his offer off.
"No, I insist," he held steady, "it'd be a way to celebrate a successful show...my first ballet," he added, the final words of his sentence making her let out a stifled laugh.
"You're truly offering?" she checked with him before giving her final answer.
"I am," he nodded, a smile playing on his lips.
She had to bite back the smile that was threatening to form as she took a moment's pause. If she answered too soon, it would have looked like she was overly excited for this opportunity. "I'd like that then," she told him, hoping that her giddiness wasn't plastered clear across her face. "I need to quickly put these in the dressing room," she added, raising her arms slightly to call attention to the gifts she'd been holding.
"I'll be waiting here," he told her, nodding as she turned and walked towards the dressing rooms.
She was unable to get to them without being stopped by Julia first. "Is that the man from the party, (Y/N)?" her friend asked, her eyes swapping between (Y/N) and Tommy.
"It is," (Y/N) answered, again hoping that her giddiness wasn't too apparent.
"What's he doing here?"
"He's offered to take me for drinks," (Y/N) couldn't help but feel proud as she spoke.
A grin spread across Julia's face as she heard her friend's response, "oh so it's like that?" she questioned, wiggling her eyebrows.
"Not exactly like that," (Y/N) was quick to brush her off, "he's just being kind."
"You'll have to tell me all about it at rehearsals tomorrow...we'll see how kind he ended up being," Julia stated, winking as she put emphasis on the word 'kind'.
"It's not like that, Julia!" (Y/N) insisted, her eyebrows raised as she stressed her point in a harsh whisper.
"Don't keep your man waiting." (Y/N)'s statement was ignored, and Julia's grin only grew as she spoke, ending off with giving the other woman a friendly push towards the dressing room.
(Y/N) let out a huff as she went to quickly put the gifts she'd received down. She then hurried to get changed out of her costume before grabbing her things and heading out of the dressing room. Tommy was standing right where she left him, and she sent him a smile as she approached him. He asked her if she was ready, and she nodded, allowing the two to leave the theatre and go wherever they'd be having drinks.
Conversation came easily between the two as they settled in at the bar of one of the more prestigious clubs in the city. (Y/N) would have loved to look around and get lost in her surroundings but, well...she had more interesting things to look at.
They learned a good bit about each other as they sat and talked. (Y/N) told Tommy all about her rise to the company that she was dancing for now, and Tommy in turn told (Y/N) of how he made his way out of Birmingham, coming from nothing to now dealing with some of the heads of the business sphere. He also made hints at some other avenues that he's simultaneously working in, but didn't really elaborate on them. (Y/N) truly didn't need details though...she'd become so enthralled by this man that she was sure it'd take something dire to make her want to leave him.
So enthralled, in fact, that she did something that would be considered rather bold by her standards and invited him back to her flat for a nightcap. Tommy, who was also enjoying himself, accepted the invitation with no hesitation, then going to pay off their tab so that they could leave the club for the building she lived in.
Things transitioned more than smoothly to her flat. The shift in the energy between them became increasingly more noticeable the closer they got to the building, and neither said a word as they rode the elevator up to her floor, instead choosing to let their eyes do the talking as they held each other's gazes.
If she was being honest, (Y/N) couldn't wait much longer to get him behind the privacy of her door. The second she did, her hands found the lapels of his suit jacket so that she could bring him to her and press their lips together in a haste kiss. Tommy accepted it with a matched eagerness, holding her tight to his body as he deepened it.
"I'm sorry...that was a bit forward of me," (Y/N) panted once they'd pulled away. She couldn't mask the bashfulness that was coming on once her mind caught up to her actions.
"Don't apologize," Tommy told her, taking a chance to take in her features at this new closeness, "I quite liked it." A slight laugh left her lips as he finished speaking, one that sounded like music to his ears.
"Would you like something to drink?" she asked him then.
"Sure."
(Y/N) nodded before she glanced down to where she was still gripping his lapels. She exhaled a breath of a laugh before releasing them and smoothing them back to their previous state. Tommy let go of her waist then, and she quickly turned to head to the kitchen so that he wouldn't see her frown at the loss of contact. He followed her to the kitchen, not really wanting to leave her side either.
"Did you enjoy the performance today?" she asked him as she grabbed a bottle and two glasses.
"I did," he answered after having to recall how the night started. It felt like it happened so long ago at this point. "You didn't have much of a part in it though," he pointed out then.
"Yeah," she answered, a bit of a lopsided smile present as she went about pouring the drinks. "I did audition for the lead in our next show though..." she paused, sliding one glass towards him before she looked up with a smile, "and I got the part!" she couldn't help but voice her happiness to this man she'd only met a week ago.
"Yeah? When is the show?" he asked, genuine curiosity present in his voice.
"It's in two weeks. On the twentieth," a fire started to burn in her stomach at the thought of him coming to see her perform again.
"Fuck," he breathed as he looked down at the glass.
This was a response she was not expecting, and it confused her. "What? Is something wrong?" she asked, all of the excitement now gone.
"I'll be out of town that day, on business," he told her, his simple sentence effectively breaking her heart. Why had she gotten her hopes up?
"Oh," she couldn't help but voice her upset, glancing up at him before she took a drink.
She looked at him again as she set the glass down on the counter, trying not to let this turn of events spoil what had been an otherwise amazing evening. Hell, she had this insanely handsome man in her flat...who was she to stand around and mope over something she couldn't control? Tommy was taking that time to look her over too, and she couldn't help but love the feeling of his eyes on her.
"We still have tonight though..." she spoke again after a few moments had passed, keeping her eyes steady on him, watching his every move.
He let his eyes trail over her face again, taking in every inch of it. He licked his lips as he thought about the magnitude of her statement. "We do have tonight," he answered then, letting her lead the interaction.
She couldn't stop from biting on her bottom lip as she thought of how to word her next question. The energy coursing between them was almost palpable at this point, and she wondered how she was able to shift so quickly from disappointment to desire just by standing in his presence. It felt like ages before she spoke again, a hint of curiosity now sparkling in her eyes: "would you like to come to bed with me?"
Tommy didn't wait ages to give his response. He broke the distance between them in seconds, his hands finding the sides of her face so that he could pull her into a deep kiss.
The kiss alone buried the upset of him not being able to attend her performance, and if it was a precursor of what would come, (Y/N) knew that this would be a night she'd hold in her mind for years to come.
——
(Y/N) hadn't had a moment to herself since she exited the stage after final bows. She was being swarmed by the fellow ballerinas in her company, who were congratulating her on a wonderful show and already celebrating their collective performance. She didn't mind it though...she was buzzing from the high herself.
"You have a few fans waiting out in the hall to see you, Miss (Y/L/N)," one of the stagehands told her once she'd finished the conversation she was having.
(Y/N) nodded and allowed the man to lead her to the door that separated the backstage area from the rest of the theatre. He opened the door for her and she thanked him before seeing the same group of little girls that had been at her last show waiting for her. She greeted them with a wide smile, happily accepting their flowers and other gifts that they came back to bring her. After many hugs and a short conversation, she said goodbye and some words of encouragement.
Standing tall again, she looked ahead of her and found the last person she expected to. Tommy Shelby was there, leaning against the wall much like he had last time, but now he had a bouquet of beautiful red roses with him. (Y/N) went over to him without a second thought.
"I brought you flowers this time," he was the first to speak, raising the bouquet slightly to accentuate his statement.
"You...you did," she stuttered out, still not quite believing her eyes, "were...were you...?" She couldn’t get a complete sentence out. Not once in the times they’d met up over the last two weeks did he mention he was able to make it to her show - they hadn’t spoken about it after that night.
"I was," he answered with a slight chuckle, a smile forming on his lips at her shock.
"Please tell me you didn't cancel your plans for me."
"I did," he confirmed what she already knew, "you're worth breaking plans for, love."
The widest smile formed on her face at his statement, and she couldn't help but close the distance to wrap her arms around his neck in a tight hug. He chuckled at her reaction, holding onto her as tightly as she was holding him. "You did amazing," he mumbled into her neck before pressing a kiss to it.
"I'm happy you came," she said, holding back her emotions with a smile as she pulled away, "so happy," she added, her hands moving to his face so that she could kiss him.
Even though she’d just given what was surely the best performance of her career, (Y/N) couldn’t deny that she’d never felt happier than she did at this moment.
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ixiot-ghostrebel · 1 year
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Another sagau reader hearing someone insulting characters and going apeshit but when someone insults reader are like "......hmm shodul I drink hot chocolate or tea today?" This time ganyu( becose I still pissed at one guy who insulted her i her own story quest) bennet and nilou (another chance to make azar feel terror)
COMING RIGHT UP, ANON. THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING OMG 💀 I have been too dead without these requests, fr.
Click Me For Part 1!
When Someone Insults Ganyu, Bennett, and Nilou vs When Someone Insults Reader...
(Disclaimers: Might Be OOC, Mentions of Violence, & Quest/Genshin Impact Lore Spoilers!)
Ganyu
Okay, first of all: Yes, I am adding that stupid idiot cough Xin Cheng cough into this.
You were just following the Traveler and Paimon, joining Ganyu's Story Quest which, for some reason, was not completed yet. So, you decided to tag along to see Ganyu!
You weren't hyped when that beggar came out of nowhere and started to do all that fairytale stuff even you don't approve of—and you were someone that sticks themselves into your own head, thank you very much.
So when this man started to gain the audacity to insult Ganyu, you knew you had to step up and do something. No one, and you quite mean it, was going to insult her and get away with it.
"Hey!" You came out from your hiding spot (you're the Almighty Creator, you know it'll make the situation worse). "Just what the hell do you think you're doing, huh?"
Xin Cheng pales at the sight of your enraged figure. He stutters to make an excuse, but you cut him off. You're having none of it.
"Get your useless self out of here, before I decide to kick it down the mountains myself!"
To say that Ganyu was shocked that you were getting angry over a mortal was an understatement. She was beyond surprised that you even stood up for her.
But she did have to intervene with your threatening—after all, she is still an Adeptus. Protecting the people of Liyue was still her duty.
"Your Grace...Please let him go. I'm sure he already understands his mistake." Ganyu's soft voice only made your anger increase—she sounded so upset!
"Y-yes, please, Your Grace! I understand what I've done wrong, I—"
"Silence." You glare down at the mortal. Your turn back to Ganyu, and considered your choices. While you wanted to wreck absolute vengeance on this man, you also didn't want to hurt Ganyu's feelings more.
Guess you were going down Trauma Lane, then. You sigh, and stomp your feet as you turn around to glare at Xin Cheng, catching his petite form by surprise.
"If I ever see you do this again..." Your eyes narrow. "Believe me when I say it—you will be granted no mercy by any adeptus nor Rex Lapis himself. Now SCRAM!" With that, he was running for the hills. You weren't entirely satisfied, but you'll take it. For now.
What would Happen if Ganyu heard you get insulted? Well, first of all, she would gasp quietly to herself. What was this blasphemy? She's utterly horrified.
Ganyu thinks she might faint once she realizes you were nearby, checking out vendor goods next to where the gossipers were spilling terrible insults of your image.
"Y-Your Grace! Please accept my apology on behalf of the people of Liyue." Will literally run up to you and apologize for them. While she may not be the one who did it, she's still cares about the People of Liyue—and thus her reasoning as to why she's askign for the mercy of the Almighty Creator.
Your puzzled look turns to Ganyu. "Who are you apologizing for?" Ganyu blinks.
"The, uhm—the gossipers..?" You're still confused, until your eyes shine once recognition hits you like Truck-Kun.
"Ohhh, those dudes! Yeah, don't worry about them—they're pretty boring, saying the same thing like a broken record. Say—wanna shop with me? I'm paying, of course."
And that's how you got Ganyu to be more comfortable around you! :D
Bennett
Ah, our unlucky yet optimistic adventurer! This boy—he is good. He's cool, and he's rather awed by most of the kids in Mondstadt.
He was hanging out with Razor and Fischl when someone decides to insult him. this genuinely upsets him—after all, they were insulting his ability and his position in the Adventurer's Guild...
Already, Razor and Fischl were already up to defend him, but what they didn't expect is for the Almighty Creator (aka you) got to it first.
"I beg your pardon," you say through gritted teeth. "How exactly is having a bad luck aura got to do with ANYTHING related to being an adventurer?" You're glaring so many daggers you could practically say you were breaking all the walls. "Perhaps we'll see just how lucky you are when I send you to Dragon Spine and watch your dead corpses FREEZE TO DEATH?"
The insulters were paling the more you went on. Razor and Fischl aren't sure what to do—you're already there, dealing with the situation.
But Bennett? Well uh, like usual, his bad luck got the best of him, and he accidentally stumbles towards you (miraculously). He bumps into you, and you shift your gaze onto him.
"Uh—Sorry, Your Grace! I really didn't mean to bump into you, I swear!" Poor guy is scared because his bad luck affected him at the worst time of all. He thinks he might get killed.
You though? Oh, hell nah. Your gaze already soften, and you decided to show favoritism! You pull the boy into a hug, glaring at the insulters one more time as a warning to scram, before you go back to enjoying giving the boy affection!
But when Bennett hears you get insulted? Well, first of all, screw his bad luck because the insulters were quite literally telling him how bad of a Creator you were!
He immediately tries to avoid getting too deep into the discussion, trying to sway the topic elsewhere to no avail, and he pales when he realizes you were literally a few steps away from them!
And it seems his bad luck gets in the way again, because you just turned right as he was staring at you with shocked eyes!
However, instead of being mad, you were actually beaming when you see him. You wave at Bennett, smiling.
"Bennett! Help me choose some flowers, yeah?"
"Uhm—uh, Sure, Your Grace!"
And that's how the insulters were hiding in their homes for the rest of their lives as you merrily dragged Bennett out of that horrendous conversation.
Nilou
Honestly, do I need to say who decided to insult this amazing dancer?
Yes, it was fricking Azar again. What is up with this crazy old man, nobody knows. Perhaps you should put him in prison for a while until he's gained a sense of appreciation for the Arts. ALL of the Arts.
Apparently, when you had drilled fear into this man, he thought it only applied to flipping Nahida. As much as you love Nahida, you are not going to have Azar twists your words and make it seem like you grant him permission to snark down other people—especially the people of Zubayr Theater.
So when Azar finally decides to have scholars gain the nerve to insult Nilou on behalf of his stupid brain, you (of course) just had to get yourself involved with this.
"Excuse me, but since when did you have the audacity to judge someone else's profession of art, simply because it isn't 'academic' in any way?" You spat. "Where I come from, Art courses are necessary in order to move on in your academic life." When Nilou hears you, she, first of all, is grateful of you stepping up for her, and, second of all, very scared of what might be happening next.
The scholars pale, but they seem to have taken your comment as a debate.
"With all due respect, Your Grace, the Arts are anything but educational—"
"Was I looking for a second opinion, dimwit?" You narrow your eyes. "Besides, have you yourself ever tried the Art of Dancing or the Art of Music before?"
"Well—uhm, no, but—"
"Then shut up, then." The scholars begin to panic as your voice becomes low and dangerous. "You don't have an excuse to be judgmental if you haven't even tried this stuff yourself."
"Ex-Sage Azar told us to say this!" They blurt out, and that only increases your rage. Seeing that things might escalate, Nilou steps in.
"Your Grace, let's not be too harsh!" She exclaims, waving her hands frantically. "I'm sure they understand what they did wrong. There's no need to have them punished." You narrowed your eyes in disagreement, for a half second, Nilou thought she made the situation worse.
But when you sigh heavily, she knew you relented. You glare at the scholars again.
"Tell Azar if he does this again, to ANYONE, I'll cut his head off, and there's no more excuses there. In fact—bring me to him. I'll have a talk with him myself."
Yeah, Azar got traumatized again :)
But when Nilou hears you be insulted? Quite literally behind your back? She thought she was going to faint from the gossiper's comments alone! You being there to listen it to it all only made her feel worse.
She was about to confront them, until she saw other people nearby dealing with the situation. So, Nilou decides to check up and see if you were okay...After all, those comments weren't nice.
She was pretty shocked when she realized you were contemplating over wares instead, completely unbothered by the drama going on behind your back. Nevertheless, she was still going to apologize in case you were just hiding your emotions.
"Uhm, Your Grace—I would like to apologize on behalf of all of Zubayr Theater. We should've done something earlier." You look at her, confused.
"What are you apologizing for, Nilou?" You ask. She blinks.
"Uhm, the gossipers, Your Grace..?" Your eyes widen, before you bark a laugh.
"Oh, those dudes! Yeah—don't worry about them, honestly. Say—help me pick: should I get hot chocolate or tea from this lovely store?"
Let's just say you had a fun time hanging out with Nilou for the rest of the afternoon :)
AND THAT'S IT! WE ARE DONE! I AM SO SORRY FOR BEING INACTIVE AND TAKING 30+ YEARS TO FINISH THIS, BUT IT'S HERE! :D I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED IT!
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Ghost Rebel Side Notes: To anyone who's waiting for The Lost Shining God of Celestia, yes I have been writing on it. However, due to personal life problems and other IRL circumstances, it's taking a little longer than expected. I am sorry, everyone!
✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦
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endofradio · 2 months
Text
FRAGMENTS OF FEAR — CHAPTER 4: TEMPTATION INSIDE YOUR HEART
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PROLOGUE | CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3
WARNINGS: n/a
NOTES: it’s getting a little 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 in here!!! (kill me now)
SUMMARY: frank notices sylvie’s all alone in the bar lounge and decides to have a bit of a chat with her… and things get a little… uh… crazy…?
WORD COUNT: 2,512
TAGS: @reclaimedbythesea @creelmalfoylaufeyson69 @maggotmommys @maggotssmichael @evildarliing @xashleyo03x @witchy-weve-monbebe @atcarpenter @blackwolfstabs
if you’d like to be added to my taglist, send me a message or send in an ask to my inbox. :)
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Sylvie was sitting by herself in the bar lounge, her slender legs dangling over the countertop. It was fairly quiet, except for the radio sitting next to her which was still playing music. Right now, a Velvet Underground song was quietly playing.
“One of these days, ain’t it peculiar? You’re gonna look for me and baby, I’ll be gone…”
Sylvie was left alone with her thoughts, the music being the only thing keeping her company. At the same time, though, she liked being alone. Maybe it was just the fact she had grown accustomed to it, especially considering loneliness was all she ever knew.
As she sat there, Sylvie found herself reflecting on a multitude of things. Herself, this whole kidnapping mission, even… Frank. She silently cursed herself for even bothering to think about him. When she did think about him, she felt a confusing mixture of feelings come to the surface. Anger was one of them.
She couldn’t deny that, despite all the bullshit Frank had put her through, Sylvie was still drawn to him for some strange reason. She felt some kind of pull, and it made her uncomfortable. It seemed like she always ended up finding herself being drawn to the worst people. Maybe it was because she didn’t know kindness. She had grown up without it.
As Sylvie continued to sit atop the bar counter deep in thought, she was distracted by the sound of a familiar voice — Frank’s voice. Goddamnit…
“You look quite lonely.” He gruffly commented, walking over to the bar and pouring himself a glass of whiskey. “Just… sittin’ there. Thinkin’ about something?”
Sylvie shrugged. “Yeah. Thinking about a lot of things.”
Frank took a sip of the whiskey, leaning against the bar counter as he looked at Sylvie. “You look like you could use a drink.”
“I’m… I’m fine.”
“You sure?” Frank asked, taking another drink. “I mean, c’mon. You’re sitting here surrounded by alcohol.”
Sylvie sighed. “Okay, fine. Just… one glass and that’s it.”
Frank smirked as he went for the bottle, pouring Sylvie a glass. “I had a feeling you’d give in, eventually. First taste of alcohol in five years, huh?”
Sylvie sighed as she took the glass, swirling the amber liquid around as she blankly looked down at it. “Yeah, I guess.” She reluctantly brought the glass to her lips, taking a very small sip, trying not to cough as the whiskey burned her throat. “Fuck. How can people drink this shit regularly?”
“You get used to it.” Frank shrugged. He leaned back against the bar counter. “Y’know, since it’s just the two of us in here, I figured that we might as well have a bit of a chat, don’t you think?”
He set his half-empty glass down and dug into the front pocket of his bomber jacket, taking out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Then, he lit one up for himself.
“A chat about what, exactly?” Sylvie asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Hmm, we could go with a lot of things…” Frank muttered thoughtfully, taking a puff of cigarette smoke. “How about we start with this one — why do you hate me so much?”
He looked back at Sylvie, his facial expression one of mock offense. “I mean, I’ve done nothing to really hurt you, right?”
Sylvie rolled her eyes. “Oh, there’s a lot of reasons why I hate you. From day one, you’ve done nothing but try to get on my nerves. You’re annoying, you’re perverted, and you’re an asshole — a major one at that.”
Frank’s eyes widened as he took another sip of whiskey. “Well, shit.” He muttered, before chuckling. “You really weren’t kidding, weren’t ya?”
“I never lie.”
Frank raised an eyebrow and then took a few steps toward Sylvie, so that way he was standing right in front of her. “I’m not so sure about that one.” He said, slightly squinting his eyes as though he was studying her, trying to read into her mind.
“What do you mean?” Sylvie asked, her voice coming out slightly more annoyed and irritated than intended.
“You’ve lied before.” Frank quietly spoke matter-of-factly. “Remember when I arrested you? You lied about how much you drank. That’s one lie right there. You’ve also lied about why you couldn’t fuckin’ drive after that little party. You told me that your car was just acting up. Two lies, right there. So, don’t act so innocent. You should never lie to a police officer, y’know…”
Sylvie swallowed nervously as she looked up at Frank. She could practically feel his cold gaze burning into hers. She wanted to look away but for some reason, she couldn’t. The most she could do was occasionally avert her gaze for a quick second.
“There’s a third thing I think you’re lyin’ about right now, actually…” Frank then murmured.
“What do you… mean…?” Sylvie questioned, her voice quiet.
“You hating me — I believe that’s another lie.”
“Why…?”
Frank finished the rest of his glass of whiskey, placing it on the bar counter as he drew in another inhale of cigarette smoke. He looked back at Sylvie, placing a hand on the counter, nearly having her cornered.
“Remember how I said I pick up on things very easily?” He quietly asked. “I’m a smart guy, Sylvie, and y’know what I think?”
“What…?”
Frank leaned in close enough so that way he could whisper in Sylvie’s ear. “You like the attention because you’ve never been shown a fuckin’ ounce of it.” He answered. “You cling onto it like a starving child. You don’t care whether it’s good or bad. Attention is still attention to you.”
Frank then pulled away from her, a slight smirk forming on his face as he studied her reaction. He could tell she knew he was right, with the way her brown eyes were widening just a little.
“Think about it…” he continued. “When I’d taunt you while you were in jail, you’d never pull away from me. You’d tell me to fuck off, but I never really saw any genuine defiance in your eyes. Your words didn’t mean anything. They were just a pathetic attempt to hide what was really going on in that mind of yours. I think that’s why you’d always snap back at me, too. You were encouraging me. You wanted more.”
“Shut up…” Sylvie muttered, feeling her muscles tensing up. He was right.
Frank ignored her, only continuing with his words. “You are pathetic, honestly. So starved of any attention at all that you’ll lick it from anyone’s hands, doesn’t matter who the person is.”
He finished the rest of his cigarette before flicking it in an ashtray, cornering Sylvie with both of his hands now on either side of her on the bar counter.
“I know you very well, and I don’t think you even realize it,” Frank said. “You don’t want to admit the fact that I’m right, because you’re too fuckin’ stubborn. You’ve convinced yourself so much that you fuckin’ despise me that you can’t bring yourself to just admit the goddamn truth.”
Sylvie could feel her chest tightening. “N… no.” She croaked. “I do… I do hate you…”
Frank raised an eyebrow. “Why aren’t you trying to escape, then? You’re just sitting here, taking in every little fuckin’ thing I’m saying to you. Now, why is that, huh?”
He has a point. Why am I still just sitting here?
“I don’t… I don’t know…” Sylvie quietly answered. That answer didn’t satisfy Frank.
“You don’t know, huh? Well, I think that’s enough of an answer, isn’t it?”
“Shut the fuck up…” Sylvie hissed, but the way her voice trembled betrayed the defiant look in her eyes. The walls she had built around herself were slowly crumbling.
Frank leaned even closer. “Why don’t you fuckin’ make me, then?” He challenged with a whisper, his eyes flickering with something that Sylvie couldn’t quite identify. “You keep telling me to shut up, but you’re not doin’ anything about it.”
Sylvie’s knuckles were slowly turning white as she tightened her grip on the bar counter, her muscles tightening up even more. The tension crackling in the air in the room was so intense that if somebody else walked in, they could feel it instantly. Sylvie was desperate to get rid of it, to get Frank to finally shut his mouth, but she didn’t know how.
Then, she had an idea. She knew Frank’s mind and how it worked. She could use that to her advantage, now that she thought about it. She knew what he liked, and knew what he would probably like right now. Was she playing with fire? Yeah, probably, but right now… she just wanted Frank to shut up.
A little hesitant, Sylvie reached with both of her hands to touch Frank’s face, her fingers gently grazing his stubble. All the while, she maintained eye contact with him, searching for any sign of a reaction. Surprise flickered across his blue eyes for a moment, before his gaze gradually started to darken.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He quietly asked. Despite the question, he made no effort to pull away. Got him.
“Don’t you want this?” Sylvie’s response was almost taunting. “I’m not stupid, either. Don’t act like you’ve never thought about getting in my pants at least once.”
The faintest hint of a smirk gradually formed on Frank’s face. “Look at you, tryin’ to have some sense of control over me. Cute.”
He grabbed Sylvie’s wrists and moved her hands away from his face, holding them down on the bar counter. “Now, I guarantee if I did that to you, you’d fuckin’ melt. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Sylvie’s stomach was starting to do somersaults now, her breath getting caught in her throat. She felt Frank brush a strand of her dark brown hair away from her face, and as much as she wanted to pull away, she didn’t.
“Wow. Look at you, you didn’t even flinch,” Frank quietly remarked, his smirk growing. “You’re only encouraging me, sweetheart.”
“Don’t… don’t call me that…” Sylvie weakly whispered.
Now, she was weakening almost instantly, all because of Frank. How could she allow him to have this much power over her? She could feel her heart pounding in her chest.
Almost as if he was intentionally trying to weaken her even more, Frank brought a hand to hold Sylvie’s face, brushing his thumb across her cheek, and then her lips. He saw how her breathing was getting more unsteady, how her eyes were widening… and it was satisfying him.
“Jesus Christ, you really are starving for attention…” Frank murmured, his voice taking on an almost critical tone. “God, has nobody even kissed you before?”
“I mean…” Sylvie stuttered, her eyes darting away from Frank’s for a brief moment. “I mean… yeah, but… but—”
Her heart just about stopped when she unexpectedly felt Frank’s lips crash against hers. Meanwhile, another Velvet Underground song was faintly playing in the background. Sylvie couldn’t focus on the music, though — the words just seemed to fade as Frank captured her lips. Time seemed to stop.
At first, Sylvie’s hands remained firmly planted on the countertop, but as the kiss lasted, she pressed a trembling hand against Frank’s face, the other tightly gripping onto his shoulder.
“Lisa says on a night like this, it’ll be so nice if you’d give me a kiss. Lisa says for just one little smile, I’ll sit next to you for a little while…”
Sylvie felt Frank nip at her bottom lip before he deepened the kiss, and she felt her heart pound even harder. His hand started to trail a path down to her waist, sending shivers throughout her body. Genuinely nobody had kissed her like this before, and it was driving her insane. Suddenly, she was desperate for more — desperate for his touch. She was completely at Frank’s mercy now, all because he was giving her something that nobody had given her. She was melting into the kiss, and all it was doing was further inflating Frank’s ego. He tasted of whiskey and cigarettes, a deathly arousing combination.
“You’re killing me.” She whispered against his lips. “You’re… you’re fucking… killing me.”
“Maybe that’s the plan.”
“You… you bas—”
Before Sylvie could even finish saying “bastard,” she was cut off by Frank roughly kissing her again.
“Just shut your fuckin’ mouth, alright?”
As his hand wandered to her thigh, Frank only added fuel to the fire by pulling away from the kiss, focusing his attention on Sylvie’s neck now. Once she felt Frank’s lips on her neck, she let out a sharp gasp, instinctually tilting her head back to grant him more access.
“Nobody’s ever done this to you before, huh?” He murmured against her neck, lips grazing the sensitive skin there.
“N… no…”
“What a shame…”
Frank was about to speak again when suddenly a voice interrupted the pair.
“Oh my God— what the fuck? Lambert said to keep the grab-ass to a fucking minimum!”
Frank rolled his eyes and turned his head around, seeing Sammy standing there looking as though she had just seen a ghost. “Fuck off, Sammy.” He hissed.
“Well, uh… at least you two are having fun.”
Once Sammy left, Frank turned back to look at Sylvie. The way she was looking at him just made something inside of him snap.
“Fuck it…”
His lips met Sylvie’s again, and then he picked her up off of the bar counter, carrying her off to the bedroom he had chosen to stay in, his lips never leaving hers. He kicked the door shut behind him, and soon he was on top of her on the bed. The two of them continued to roughly kiss each other, grabbing at each other’s clothes, and in mere minutes they were under the bedsheets, vulnerable and exposed to each other. Sylvie almost felt nervous being underneath Frank in such a state, but that nervousness was being taken over by a sudden desire that she didn’t even think she had.
Frank was practically worshiping Sylvie’s bare body, kissing her everywhere and running his hands all over her, memorizing every inch. It made Sylvie feel things she didn’t think she’d ever end up feeling, like she was some kind of divine being. Nobody had made her feel this way… ever.
“Christ, you’re beautiful,” Frank whispered against Sylvie’s collarbone. She was so small compared to him, so vulnerable. He was being taken over by a primal lust for her, one that had been slowly building up since the first moment he had laid eyes on her. Now that he could be physically close to her without anything separating them, he was giving in to that lust entirely. All he wanted right now was her. He craved her.
Frank was desperately trying to hold back, but as he continued to leave desperate kisses all over Sylvie’s neck, he realized he couldn’t take it anymore. He placed a finger against Sylvie’s lips as if he was telling her to be quiet.
“Not a fuckin’ sound, alright?”
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2 - Enjoyable Reunion
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Part 3
Dr. Redheaded Neighbor
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“Will, I am really sorry about him.” I finally broke myself from the daze he had managed to put me in. I wasn’t expecting to meet him until very late tonight as a surprised outside his apartment door considering we were right across from the other.
Tugging Maxon off of him by his collar it gave Will the chance to move onto his knees opening his arms for my doggy. “Come here, Max. How’s my favorite doggy been huh?” He ran his fingers through his fur causing his tail to wag happily.
“I’m guessing he thought you were following me or something. Given the fact that he was trained to always be aware of everything around us in the field.” I shrugged my shoulders at him.
Will paused his attention on Maxon looking up at me. “Don’t worry about it, Mal. Now come here and let give ya a welcome home hug.” He opened his arms wide out for me.
“I’ve missed you, Halstead.” I giggled flinging my arms around his neck and he buried his face into my hair holding me against his chest for a few seconds.
Maxon barked feelings left out causing us to separate from one another when Will ruffled a hand through his fur for a second time. “Since you guys just got in. How about I take you out for dinner?”
“Awe, Will. That’s awful nice of you.” I replied missing his kind gestures like this reminding me of the night we first met at the apartment building.
He eyed my bag sitting at my boots. “We could drop your stuff off and then head out. I’m not sure Molly’s will let Maxon inside but there should be some other places.”
“Hang on a sec. I have to ask how you ended up getting here at the same time as us. I mean I didn’t text or call you before we landed that would have given you enough time.”
He explained. “We had a patient call in to 911 and said they couldn’t make it to the hospital without help. I was just about to head back actually before I got tackled by your dog.”
“I am really sorry about that.”
He raised his hands up in front of his chest. “Stop apologizing, Mallory.”
“But if he had done that to someone else, they would have been really pissed. So, I just feel bad.”
He sent me a bright smile. “Good thing you know me. Now are we getting dinner, or would you rather knock off those heavy boots on a couch and I’ll see you when I get done with my shift.”
“Hmm both options sound good to me. How about this we flip a coin and that decides what we do.” I suggested figuring the waiting would kill him. He was very smart, but I always kept him on his toes.
Will rolled his eyes reaching into his wallet taking out a coin. “Call it.”
“Heads.” I cheered watching him flick it off his thumb and into the air.
Will caught it in his other open palm. “Okay it’s head. So which option did you choose?”
“You get to take us out for dinner.” I sent him a cheecky grin with my hands behind my back leaning back and forth on my tippy toes.
He nodded reaching down at the same time as me grabbing the straps of the duffel bag that had my gear in. Along with my backpack that I was carrying on my shoulders until I caught up with Maxon. “Ah ah. Let me get this. And I’m paying for dinner no exceptions.”
“Alright Halstead.” I held my hands up in surrender watching him start walking forward and I followed him. Maxon barked getting up and following my hip on the other side of me.
By the time we had taken my stuff up and I had changed out of my clothes it was getting late in the evening. Will had called his boss and saying he had a family matter come up so he couldn’t come work in the ED tonight. Will decided to hang out on the couch with Maxon until I got changed. Opening the door I wissled making my dog lift his head up from his paws and peeking his head over the edge of the furniture. “Does this seem okay for tonight?”
“You look great to me.” Will shifts in his spot on the coach looking back at me.
I had switched into a tan tea shirt that had sleeves that went down to my elbows. Leaving my hair loose compared to normally having it up in a ponytail. “Awe thanks. Would you hate me if I said let’s go walk around and maybe get some food truck tacos.” I had kept my cameo pants on since I still had some bandages underneath the metal brace I had on my leg.
“Tacos don’t sound too bad to me.” Will got off the couch and Maxon jumped off the furniture heading to the door with him. The three of us made our way down to the pear and began our walk through the clear boardwalk.
I pause our walk leaning my elbows on the wooden railing my hair was somewhat blowing in my face. “So do you have any special gal in your life?”
“Nah. I’ve made a rule to not date my coworkers.” He put his hands together. “Although I do have this one named Natalie that I’m pretty close with. So what about you?”
I snorted out a laugh. “You think I’ve got time for a relationship when I’m looking for explosives Halstead?”
“I guess that’s a bad assumption on my part.” He chuckled.
“You think.”
He ran a hand through his auburn curls. “So how did you get the brace on your leg then?”
“So bout that. I don’t know how exactly. I’ve got some memory loss from our last mission according to one of the doctors.”
Will touched my hand closet to his. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s okay. Hopefully I’ll have my answer someday.”
He turns to face me reaching his hand up brushing hair out of my eyes and his palm touches my cheek. “Knowing you you’ll figure it out. You’re pretty smart in my opinion.”
“Thanks, Will.” I replied feeling his gaze focus on mine and my face turned slightly red. We remained standing like that for a few minutes. I definitely had missed seeing him more than I thought I would have, maybe more than friends but I’d never tell him that until I was certain.
Maxon suddenly barked causing us to break away from our current state. “Sorry Maxon. You must be hungry bud.” Will chuckled down at my furry pal.
“Onward to tacos!” I cheered throwing a fist into the air and Will draped an arm over my shoulder tugging me closer heading to the nearest taco truck.
Comments really appreciated ❤️
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The Other Mountain - ao3 - Chapter 24
Pairing: Lan Qiren/Wen Ruohan
Warning Tags on Ao3
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Not even having to explain to Yu Ziyuan why they had ruined the Jiang sect’s event for a second time running could put a dent in Wen Ruohan’s good mood.
“You can’t really blame us for it,” he told her, wondering with amusement if he should mention that the sound of her teeth grinding in irritation was becoming almost audible. “We came here at your invitation to enjoy your sect’s little party and then were unexpectedly set upon by murderous assassins…assassins, let me remind you, that somehow managed to defy your sect’s security precautions, borrow your disciples’ clothing, and then attack your guests, when by all the rules of hospitality we ought to be under your protection. If the party also happened to be ruined as a result, well, that’s really nothing to do with us. In fact, we’re quite upset by it all.”
“Really,” Yu Ziyuan growled. “If that’s the case, then why – are – you – smiling?!”
That was mostly because Wen Ruohan couldn’t help it.
Lan Qiren was in love with him. Lan Qiren loved him. Lan Qiren was willing to trust him. Lan Qiren loved him!
That wasn’t anyone else’s business, though.
“Just trying to put a good face on it for the sake of your sect,” Wen Ruohan said, voice almost syrupy with how condescending he was being. “After messing up not one but two gatherings in front of the whole cultivation world, you practically have no face left at all…really, a smile or two is the least we can do for the sake of our good friends in Yunmeng Jiang.”
Yu Ziyuan’s eye was twitching. So was the finger upon which she wore Zidian, which hadn’t quite started crackling but had started emitting an almost subsonic hum of spiritual energy as if it was considering it.
Hmm. Perhaps he was overdoing it a little.
Not that Wen Ruohan cared.
Still, in the interest of not starting yet another fight that he was presently in no condition to win…
“At any rate, as you can see,” he added smugly, unable to feel any genuine caution when his heart was full of repeated refrains of I am loved, I am loved, “my husband has taken today’s events to heart.”
He nodded over at where Lan Qiren was sitting, still cleaning his sword and glaring balefully at everyone around him as if he suspected them of wrongdoing, having apparently decided to appoint himself as the paranoid one for the day.
If Lan Qiren were anyone else, Wen Ruohan would say that it was a beautiful display of subtle intimidation. The almost pristine glow of Lan Qiren’s almost entirely white outfit, marred only by the almost artful flecks of drying blood that highlighted the subtle red suns at the hems, acted as vivid contrast to the gory imagery of the bloody and at times incomplete bodies the Jiang sect disciples were still carrying out on mats from the room behind him, while the steady and sure motion of his hands drew the eye to focus on his sword, the one that had slain most of those people – an unspoken but extremely clear threat.
Of course, since this was Lan Qiren, he probably hadn’t thought about that at all.
Lan Qiren was a very good politician, when he put his mind to it – but he often forgot to put his mind to it. In fact, if Wen Ruohan had to bet, he’d say that Lan Qiren was probably currently thinking about some obscure Lan sect rule about cleaning your sword as soon as possible to avoid rust, about how it was valuable and taught all sorts of larger lessons and so on and so forth. Also, he’d probably want a bath as soon as possible, quite understandably, and certainly at a minimum by the time they got back to the Nightless City. He could just change clothing to get rid of the bloodstains, of course, but there was that general rule on changing clothing after bathing, and Wen Ruohan knew that Lan Qiren, with his fondness for routine, would prefer to do things in the proper order whenever possible.
(Lan Qiren, who loved him. Who was in love with him. Who would probably make that part of his routine as well, an everyday reminder that he belonged, body and soul, to Wen Ruohan…)
Lan Qiren was insisting on their leaving at once, which was quite reasonable under the circumstances. Wen Ruohan certainly wasn’t objecting. His sect’s disciples, who had rushed over as soon as he’d been able to properly signal them, had managed to keep a few of the assassins alive, including the one Lan Qiren had purposefully preserved. They had all been taken away to be interrogated – with the Fire Palace for once serving in its traditional capacity as a prison rather than Wen Ruohan’s personal playground – and answers would be forthcoming. Wen Ruohan had made that extremely clear to all of the assembled sect leaders.
Wen Ruohan had also made a number of very ominous statements about the vengeance he was imminently going to undertake as soon as he found out who was responsible for sending the assassins. Moreover, he had made clear that, as the victim of a dishonorable attack, he fully expected the cultivation world to back him in seeking reprisals, no matter what penalty he demanded – or else.
His announcement had spread a great deal of consternation throughout the crowd, all of whom were already somewhat keyed up due to the last near-war they’d been drawn into. It had caused any number of people to consider departing early as well, each to go back home to think over what to do next in peace rather than stay any longer in the Lotus Pier. Presumably it was those impending departures that had caused Yu Ziyuan to march up and pull Wen Ruohan aside for a quiet confrontation, with all of the seething, barely-concealed rage that had made her old Purple Spider moniker quite so famous visible on her face.
Again: not that Wen Ruohan cared.
Oddly enough, though, it seemed that something he’d said had soothed Yu Ziyuan’s fiery temper, or at least distracted her from it. Zidian was no longer making that irritating humming noise and her fingers no longer shook as if they were on the verge of being clenched into a fist; she was practically verging on normal.
Well, normal rage.
“Sect Leader Wen is very open-minded,” she said, very begrudgingly.
Wen Ruohan looked at Yu Ziyuan with some suspicion. Was she referring to the fact that he wasn’t blaming the Jiang sect for the assassination attempt? He’d wanted to, even though he was fairly certain they had nothing to do with it. Even if they hadn’t hired the assassins, it had been their negligence that had allowed the attack to occur at all, which meant that they ought to carry some share of the blame, and therefore some of the responsibility of making it up to him…but Lan Qiren had objected.
He’d said something about not sowing discord, or maybe about being easy on others. Wen Ruohan thought it was more likely that he just felt belatedly bad about having accidentally incited Cangse Sanren into stealing away the Jiang sect children at the same time she’d taken his nephews.
(They hadn’t told anyone that Cangse Sanren had brought them to the Nightless City, or indeed that Cangse Sanren and her family were currently residing with them rather than traveling the cultivation world. It seemed unwise to officially confirm it, lest they attract unwanted attention.)
“I will still be expecting Yunmeng Jiang’s support against the perpetrators, of course,” he clarified, but unexpectedly Yu Ziyuan waved her hand dismissively.
“Naturally you will have it,” she said coolly. “Whoever planned the attempt on your life, Sect Leader Wen, deliberately chose to use our Jiang sect as its scapegoat. In order to restore our good name, we must of course take every measure necessary to seek vengeance. That was not what I meant.”
“What, then?”
Very uncharacteristically, Yu Ziyuan hesitated for a while before answering. Just as Wen Ruohan was about to lose patience, she finally spoke, saying, “I meant…in the matter of your marriage.”
Wen Ruohan arched his eyebrows. What about his marriage? He’d made an excellent marriage. He’d known it from the start, and now the rest of the cultivation world was starting to realize it, too. And they hadn’t even figured out the bit about the classes yet!
None of that seemed to him to fit the criteria of rendering him “open-minded,” though. So what was Yu Ziyuan talking about?
Yu Ziyuan seemed to realize that she’d lost him, a frown appearing on her face as she watched the confusion on his.
“Do you really not mind?” she asked. “You are the stronger party, politically and personally, and you’re both men, not restrained by convention – shouldn’t Lan Qiren be the one calling you husband, rather than the other way around?”
Oh, so it was that again.
Ridiculous. Hadn’t they already covered that?
“My husband,” Wen Ruohan said, emphasizing the word mostly for the amusement it gave him to see the way it made her frown deepen, “is an innate conservative. He’s very fixed in his habits, and averse to change. Having been raised with the expectation that he would one day become a husband, it pleases him to be one, and it pleases me to see him pleased. What more does there need to be than that?”
“It cannot be that simple.”
“Why not? As you said, we’re not restrained by convention.” He smirked, deciding to needle her further. “Isn’t that part of your Jiang sect’s motto? Isn’t it ‘Make it work’?”
Her eye twitched again. “Attempt the impossible.”
“Isn’t that what I said? Make it work despite it being impossible.”
Yu Ziyuan scowled at him. “A mountain cannot contain two tigers,” she said testily. “A household cannot have two husbands. If he is the husband, then you are the wife, Sect Leader Wen. You cannot possibly be satisfied with the expectation that you are to submit to him, to abide by etiquette and decorum for him, to restrict your own activities for his sake…!”
“Does the sun care for the expectations of the earth?” Wen Ruohan asked carelessly. Lan Qiren had never demanded his submission in anything, except in bed – and even there, it was only ever something that added to Wen Ruohan’s pleasure, never something that had turned into an expectation or an insult. Lan Qiren had never once thought that what they did in bed meant anything about how they conducted their life outside it, as some men might have. On the contrary, when they were in public, it was Lan Qiren who sought wherever possible to abide strictly by etiquette, and part of that etiquette was supporting Wen Ruohan’s sect as the sect he’d married into, which in turn by default meant supporting Wen Ruohan himself as sect leader. “I have never restricted myself for the sake of others. I hardly plan to start now.”
“Really. Then does that mean, Sect Leader Wen, that you plan to take on the duties of a wife as well?” she asked scathingly.
“Actually, Qiren seems to have gotten it into his head that it is the duty of a husband to do the satisfying,” Wen Ruohan said dryly. “A Gusu Lan peculiarity, I expect. I wasn’t planning on disabusing him of the notion.”
Yu Ziyuan turned red. “That’s not what I meant!”
Wen Ruohan scoffed. “Then what do you mean? Do you expect me to manage my household like some commoner? I manage my sect, that’s close enough.”
“It is exceptionally different.”
“Perhaps for you,” Wen Ruohan said condescendingly. “Allow me to remind you that I am sect leader. I am free to implement my will as I wish – however I wish – and you have not identified one good reason why I cannot deviate from tradition.”
“At least you know you are deviating from tradition,” she snapped.
Wen Ruohan just barely restrained himself from saying something sarcastic like And of course your marriage is such a model of happy compliance with tradition, mostly since he was pretty sure she really would try to kill him if he did.
From the look on her face, he’d managed to convey the message anyway.
“If it matters to you, then it matters to you,” he said indifferently instead. “It certainly doesn’t to me.”
Yu Ziyuan’s expression somehow worsened, which he hadn’t thought was possible.
“We’ll be leaving now,” he said smoothly, deciding that it would be impolitic to drive his hostess into apoplexy. Not to mention that it would be such a shame to rob himself of the moral high ground right after a perfectly good assassination attempt had given it to him. “Qiren wants to fly back to the Nightless City to avoid any threat of ambush, and we must leave early if we are to arrive before the end of xu shi, which of course we must. You know how Gusu Lan is.”
Everyone knew how Gusu Lan was.
(If Wen Ruohan was ever to seek to invade the Cloud Recesses, he would be wise to launch his attack in the evening, right when their internal clocks would be urging them to rest instead of fight. Not that he would, of course – he couldn’t even imagine Lan Qiren’s reaction if he did, not even if it was forced upon him by Qingheng-jun’s actions. It was only something he’d considered before, in the abstract hypothetical…)
“Have a good journey,” Yu Ziyuan said. She was gritting her teeth again.
Wen Ruohan smirked and took his leave.
And then he took Lan Qiren, who was very relieved to hear that they were finally departing, and went home.
Wen Ruohan spent the entire flight back to the Nightless City, painfully long and boring as it was, feeling lighter than air.
Sure, there were still problems to be dealt with, not least of which was figuring out who had tried to have him killed – not just killed, but drowned, and at a party surrounded by the rest of the cultivation world, no less. Whoever it was had figured out that Wen Ruohan had used up all of his spiritual energy, that he was temporarily vulnerable, and they were undoubtedly already thinking through the next step in their plan, knowing that they only had a brief window in which to act before Wen Ruohan regained his invincibility.
Really, his paranoia ought to be going completely haywire, questioning everyone and everything, trying to figure out who was behind it – given that it couldn’t be Qingheng-jun, who was too newly out of seclusion to have the resources necessary to train up assassins unless there was something very significant Lan Qiren had left out of his descriptions of the Lan sect – and his political instincts ought to be focused on how all of these developments would impact the balance of power in the cultivation world and how to turn them in his sect’s favor. Even considering it purely from the standpoint of cultivation, he ought to be worrying about how weak he still was, how tired he was, how much the fight and even this journey home was taking out of him.
Instead, Wen Ruohan couldn’t stop smiling.
(Interestingly enough, it turned out that genuine smiles while issuing threats only made people even more inclined to worry – exceeding even their reaction to an intimidating smirk or ominous scowl. Who knew?)
But in his defense: Lan Qiren was in love with him.
There was always that.
There was always going to be that, because Lan Qiren was a Lan, a good Lan, in the classic model of his sect. When he gave his heart away, he did so irrevocably. Even if things were to shatter between them, the way things had gone somehow wrong between Wen Ruohan and Lao Nie, or the way they had with his first wife, with his brother, with his family – even if Wen Ruohan did something utterly beyond the pale, utterly unforgivable, the fact that Lan Qiren loved him wouldn’t change.
Of course, if he did something like that, Lan Qiren would make his life absolutely miserable, up to and including leaving him in the dirt, and that probably after yelling at him until he went deaf. Lan Qiren had been quite emphatically clear about his intentions in that regard, repeating himself several times, though Wen Ruohan privately thought that it was all a little unnecessary.
It wasn’t as if he didn’t already know.
He’d figured it out after the fiasco with the Fire Palace: the price of Lan Qiren’s continued good regard was nothing more or less than his own good conduct, persistent and maintained.
Once, that would have been infuriating.
Wen Ruohan had always been his own person. He had always gone his own way, done things in his own style, bowed to no one – his Wen sect’s symbol was the sun, and he as their sect leader was the sun in splendor, directly overhead and shining in full midday glory. Even among his brothers he had always been the most stubborn, the most bull-headed, whether in his insistence on learning the sneered-upon “support skill” of arrays to the point of mastery instead of focusing on the sword or his slow but persistent approach to becoming sect leader, which had been successful in the end. He had never yielded to anyone, whether through force or coaxing. He had never adjusted his behavior for someone else’s sake.
But now…
Well.
After a lifetime of betrayals, his own or others’, Wen Ruohan was willing to consider it an equal trade.
Love for love, that was easy. Trust for trust would be more difficult, but he was the best of the best: he was Wen Ruohan. He wasn’t afraid of a challenge.
And it wasn’t as if he was going to find someone else he wanted more. Who could be more fascinating or full of ridiculous contradictions than Lan Qiren – a rigid moralist who had nevertheless demonstrated his sincerity through slaughter? That had always been a surefire way to Wen Ruohan’s heart, though not a route he’d previously believed Lan Qiren likely to take. It had always been more along the lines of what he’d gotten out of his relationship with Lao Nie, both of them vigorous and blood-thirsty and suiting each other perfectly – or at least, they had before the other man had grown distant and disdainful…
Well, never mind about that.
Wen Ruohan had Lan Qiren now, and if he played his cards right, he would have him forever.
That was surely something worth smiling about.
He continued smiling even when they arrived, frightening his servants. Lan Qiren didn’t notice, but then he was practically falling asleep standing up. Whether that was because of the energy expenditure of having to fly such a distance immediately after a vicious fight and emotional upheaval or simply that it had gotten late enough for all good proper Lan disciples to go to bed, it was impossible to tell.
“Do you require my services tonight?” Lan Qiren blearily asked Wen Ruohan, who snorted involuntarily in amusement at his serious expression.
“I think not,” he said dryly. “Look at you, you’re already yawning. I doubt you’d be able to, ah, rise to the occasion.”
Lan Qiren frowned censoriously at him. “Even if I cannot, I can still do my duty, if that’s what you desire.”
Wen Ruohan did desire, as it happened – he had a great deal of appreciation for Lan Qiren’s hands and tongue, both of which had become exceptionally skilled through the application of consistent practice – but he still said, “No need. You can make it up to me with interest tomorrow.”
It was an interesting novelty to deny himself for another’s sake. He’d observed that Lan Qiren, lacking as he did an internal instinct towards desire, at times also lacked a good sense of judgment as to when it was appropriate to offer to have sex, although tragically he’d picked up enough etiquette to be resistant to frolicking in public where people could see. It therefore fell to Wen Ruohan to bear the responsibility of being the final arbiter of such things, to ensure that Lan Qiren would be in a position to enjoy himself as well as providing enjoyment for his partner.
With a final yawn, Lan Qiren nodded and went off to find his bed, not bothering to wait for Wen Ruohan to join him. Presumably he’d figured out that Wen Ruohan was too full of nervous energy to rest, meaning that tonight was going to be one of his occasional bouts of insomnia.
Normally, on nights like these, Wen Ruohan would stalk through the halls of the Nightless City like a wandering ghost before eventually finding himself drawn to the Fire Palace and its screams, its reminder that he was alive, but that was unnecessary tonight. Tonight he already felt wholly alive, completely vibrant. In fact, that was the issue: he felt full of energy, like he wanted to do something. And not just anything, but something productive – to set up an experiment in arrays, perhaps, or practice sparring with the sword against some worthy opponent, or even…
Even…
Wen Ruohan smiled.
Cangse Sanren found him the next day.
“It’s already noon, you know,” she announced, having entered the room without knocking. “Also, my husband was the one who actually found you here, but he decided to nominate me to be the one to interrupt you. I’m less killable than he is.”
“Is that the case?” Wen Ruohan asked, not looking up from what he was doing. “And here I thought all you celestial mountain disciples were doomed.”
“We are. There’s some big scary beast marching towards my future, coming to tear me limb from limb; it’s inevitable, as sure as the dawn, but that also means there’s no point in worrying about it now. But putting that aside, people are more used to me being annoying, so they put up with it more.” She paused. “Are you painting? I didn’t know you knew how to paint.”
Wen Ruohan ignored her. He was almost done, so he wasn’t going to stop now just to talk.
“You’re a good painter,” she commented, peeking around his shoulder. “I had no idea. And I mean…you’re really good. Exceptionally good – ”
“You can stop sounding surprised about it at any point.”
“I’m just saying, I didn’t know you had hobbies other than torturing people.”
“This is not a hobby,” he clarified, finishing the final few strokes and putting down his brush. “This is an aberration. It’s a gift. For Qiren.”
“As if you would pick up a brush for anyone else,” she snorted, and inelegantly tried to shove him to the side so that she could get a better look at what he’d created. It didn’t work, of course, since he was stronger than she was, but he stepped aside anyway. “…huh. That’s…not what I expected. This is the first painting you’re going to give to him?”
Wen Ruohan shrugged. Other than his brief flirtation with portraiture, which had been an exclusively financial decision during a period of time when his backing within the Wen sect had been especially shaky, he’d always treated painting the way he did his cultivation: something to develop and nurture and even perfect, but not to force.
Back when he’d been alive, his favorite brother, Wen Ruoyu, had been Wen Ruohan’s primary target for these sorts of painting gifts. He’d had a fondness for collecting things, so he always accepted the gifts, but he’d found them confusing. You say this is meant for me? As in, you painted it specifically for me? he’d often asked, squinting at whatever the latest one was. What in the world do you mean by giving me this in particular? What’s the symbolism here stand for? What does it mean?
If I could have told you what it meant, I wouldn’t have needed to paint it, now would I? Wen Ruohan had always retorted. Tell me if you like it or not. If you don’t, I’ll take it back and give you another.
I like it, I like it! Don’t you dare take away things that are mine!
“Well, it’s not like I didn’t know you were several kinds of fucked up in the head,” Cangse Sanren remarked, interrupting Wen Ruohan’s wandering thoughts. “If there’s anyone who’d think that painting a war scene is a good gift for their lover, it would certainly be you. But lucky for you, Qiren’s taste in art runs towards the complicated, so I think he might like it anyway.”
Wen Ruohan had indeed painted a war scene, though he was mildly impressed that Cangse Sanren had been able to identify it as such. There were no people in it – it was mostly trees, and rocks, and blood, the occasional glint of broken steel and furrows dug deep. Hidden in the painting were the signs of cultivators at battle: splintered bark with smoldering anchor points, smeared ash and cinnabar left behind by burnt talismans, sharp and unnatural angles revealing cuts by sword or string.
Color had been used only sparingly, as an accent, and his brushwork was as brutal and ruthless as it had ever been, leaving the whole image with a gloomy and morbid air, grey, hopeless, and depressing.
He’d even painted it from the angle he’d once seen it from, with the trees reaching up into the heavens, tangled limbs suffocating the sky.
It was probably not an appropriate gift to give to one’s lover.
Wen Ruohan was going to give it to him anyway. Maybe he really would get lucky, and it would suit Lan Qiren’s tastes. Even if it didn’t, though, that would be fine – the point had always been in the making and the giving.
“Where is Qiren, anyway?” he asked.
“Meditating in your yard. He did sect business for a shichen in the morning, earlier on, once he realized you were busy, but as soon as he finished the urgent business, he told them all to come back tomorrow with the rest.”
“Good.” Wen Ruohan hadn’t been planning to do any business at all. Lazy days were what secretaries were for. “Next question: where are the children?”
Cangse Sanren arched her eyebrows. “Yours, mine, the Lan or the Jiang?”
“I meant Qiren’s nephews, as it happens. But you referred to mine – did you just mean Chao-er, or is Xu-er back?”
“Yes, he arrived yesterday morning, so there’s both of them here. He’s in his room, as are all the others. Do you want to see him?”
Oddly enough, even though he had no specific purpose in mind, Wen Ruohan found that he did.
“Father!” Wen Xu stood up quickly when Wen Ruohan strode into his rooms. So quickly, in fact, that he accidentally knocked all the papers off his desk and all over the floor. “I didn’t – I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I wanted to confirm that you were in one piece after what happened with the army in Jiujiang, Xu-er,” Wen Ruohan said mildly, doing his best not to smirk. Unfortunately for his son, Wen Ruoyu had also been a master of the “knock everything off the table so that they don’t see what I was looking at” dodge, and it hadn’t worked when he’d done it, either. “I am pleased to see that you are.”
“Uh, yeah,” Wen Xu said. He was blinking rapidly. “I…Teacher Lan said the same thing.”
Wen Ruohan arched his eyebrows. Lan Qiren moved quickly when he wanted to, it appeared – Wen Xu was already calling him “Teacher Lan” despite having undoubtedly met him all of maybe once. “Did he?”
Wen Xu looked embarrassed for whatever reason, so Wen Ruohan put his hands behind his back and gave his son an expectant look.
“He said you were proud of me for how I handled myself. Even though all I did was get sent away!” Wen Xu blurted out, then looked horrified at himself. Presumably at the gross sentimentality of what Lan Qiren had said, which was more than a little ridiculous – Wen Xu really hadn’t done anything of note, not unless one counted not complaining about being sent away and listening to the generals’ advice to avoid making the situation worse. And, well, not getting kidnapped and used as blackmail at any point while retreating.
Which Wen Ruohan supposed had been rather helpful.
Well, be your spouse’s partner and all that. If he wanted Lan Qiren to have a genuine shot at improving Wen Xu, it wouldn’t do to undercut his authority as a teacher before he’d even had a chance to get started.
“I am,” he said, and reasoned virtuously to himself that it wasn’t a lie even if he hadn’t given the subject a single thought before this exact moment – after all, he was always proud of his sons, who were his bloodline and therefore superior to all others. Anyway, even if it was, it wasn’t like the Wen sect abided by Do not tell lies. “You did well.”
Wen Xu looked stunned to the point of breathlessness.
Actually, he looked like he’d stopped breathing entirely.
Wen Ruohan decided that that was probably enough torment for a teenager for one day.
“You should write to your master in the army and advise him that I will be keeping you by my side for the near future,” he said, moving to practical matters instead. “If he wishes to continue your training, he should send someone here.”
Wen Xu recovered with admirable speed, straightening his spine and looking as dependable as he could at fifteen. “Yes, Father. I’ll do that at once!”
Wen Ruohan nodded. And then, because he could, he added, nodding at the pile of paper on the floor: “I’ll leave you to your romance novels, then.”
The horrified sound Wen Xu made was appalling.
Wen Ruohan walked off, chuckling to himself.
Continuing his inexplicable impulse from earlier, he decided to check in briefly on Wen Chao as well.
“Go away,” Wen Chao said, not looking up from where he was lying on his stomach reading something with a great deal of pictures and absolutely no substance. He wasn’t even trying to hide it.
“You do not command me, Chao-er.”
“Father!” Wen Chao jumped up at once. He didn’t make any effort to hide his picture-book – a heavily illustrated adventure, rather than a romance – and scurried over, looking delighted to see him, as usual. “Father, you’re here, you’re here!”
“Mm. Tell me what you have been up to.”
“I’ve been spending time with the other sect heirs, just like you told me to,” Wen Chao said proudly. “They’re very annoying, lots of trouble, but I can handle them. They’re no match for me!”
Wen Ruohan had no difficulty in discerning that this was extremely high praise for Wen Chao’s new friend group, potentially even gratitude and joy that they’d willingly included Wen Chao in their antics, and also that Wen Chao desperately wanted the present state to keep going forever.
“Good,” Wen Ruohan said. “Continue as you are. Become close to them and learn more about them, learn from their virtues and vices both. And listen when Teacher Lan tells you things meant to improve you. Make me proud.”
“Yes, Father! I will!”
That done, Wen Ruohan finally made his way down the hall to where his original targets, Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji, were being housed. He needed the two of them to do something for him.
After all, he owed Lan Qiren a debt, and it was time to deliver.
“Qiren,” he said, walking into their rooms later that afternoon. “I have something for you.”
He’d picked a good time: Lan Qiren was neither meditating nor playing his guqin, and neither was he composing – an activity that also involved a guqin, but a great deal more angry plucking, grumbling, and furious scribbling. Instead, he was only writing something down on scrap paper, though whatever the content of the note was, it was making him frown deeply, with a furrow between his brows that suggested that the subject was genuinely concerning to him.
“There you are,” Lan Qiren said, looking up. “I have something to say to you as well – ”
He paused, his expression suddenly clearing, discomfort making way for an expression of surprise, as well as something that seemed torn between pleasure and apprehension. “Did you say that you had something for me?”
“I did,” Wen Ruohan said agreeably. “Several things, in fact. Is what you have to say urgent?”
“Not at all,” Lan Qiren said bemusedly, rising to his feet and coming over. “It can wait, and indeed I would insist that it do so, given the alternative. What have you gotten me?”
Wen Ruohan produced two small booklets from inside his robes and handed them over.
Still looking somewhat wary, Lan Qiren accepted them, then opened the first one.
A moment later, he let out a surprised bark of laughter.
Wen Ruohan smirked triumphantly, watching the tension in Lan Qiren’s shoulders disappear. The man was too used to bad surprises, to everything that was unknown or a change being a bad thing – it was about time that he learned that some changes were good.
“I realize that my behavior was inappropriate, both in the specific situation and in general,” Lan Qiren read out loud. “When I am angry, I should withdraw from the situation and do what it takes to master my emotions, to better maintain my own discipline, before making any bad decisions. Under no circumstance should I take my mood out on other people, and especially not family. Additionally, I particularly recognize that I should always take the time to listen to you before making a final judgment. I have learned a valuable lesson from what I did, and I will not do it again – Wen Ruohan, did you get Xichen to write you an apology essay for me?”
“I got both your nephews to write me apology essays to give to you,” Wen Ruohan corrected him. “The second one is from Wangji.”
“Of course it is.” Lan Qiren’s shoulders were shaking with suppressed laughter again. “That’s - this is terrible. Your apologies keep getting worse and worse – and this one is unnecessary! I have already forgiven you.”
“This one isn’t an apology. It’s punishment.”
Lan Qiren’s eyebrows went up. “Oh?”
“You said the purpose of punishment is deterrence and remediation – that I need to take some loss in order to show my sincerity, to pay for the past and to make a deposit as assurance for good conduct in the future. A loss that means something to me, the way pain and time don’t.” Wen Ruohan reached out and cupped Lan Qiren’s cheek with his hand. “Something that can show you that I really have…how did he put it? That I ‘learned a valuable lesson from what I did, and will not do it again’.”
Lan Qiren leaned into his touch, smiling faintly. “And you think you have done that with this? What is your logic?”
Wen Ruohan found himself returning the smile. There it was, there was what he’d been looking for.
Lan Qiren was giving him the benefit of the doubt.
On the surface, it was patently ridiculous to think that convincing two boys to write essays could be a sufficient punishment, something that it could constitute a loss for someone of Wen Ruohan’s stature and power. Lao Nie would have thought he was joking, would have laughed along with a jest he wasn’t making, while his wives would have thought he was being sarcastic, that he was mocking them; they would have stormed out, maybe after throwing something at his head.
Lan Qiren just waited, certain that an explanation (of whatever quality) would be forthcoming.
“In our first visit to the Lotus Pier, I offered to help your nephews find you,” Wen Ruohan said, withdrawing his hand. “But not for free. I asked each of them to promise me a favor: one each.”
Lan Qiren frowned. “Unrestricted?”
“Your Xichen tried his best – he insisted on it being ‘nothing bad.’ But he’s young. He put no other restrictions on it, neither time, nor goal, nor extent…”
Lan Qiren winced. An open-ended favor like that, from a future sect leader, from a sect that did not make promises lightly, that did not break promises lightly, not even when they were extracted under duress…he knew exactly the sort of mischief Wen Ruohan could get up to with something like that. He’d seen it, even. In the ten years that the Lan sect was under his leadership, Lan Qiren would have been well aware that Wen Ruohan had twice utilized far more limited favors he was owed to devastating effect.
No, Lan Qiren well knew to be wary of such favors. He understood the gravity of such a thing – and just as he recalled it, that was when the understanding hit.
Wen Ruohan had the pleasure of seeing Lan Qiren genuinely shocked.
“You used those favors to get them to write these essays?” he exclaimed. “Surely not!”
Wen Ruohan smirked. “Is that sufficient loss for you?”
“More than sufficient! I would not have asked you to give up an advantage like that,” Lan Qiren said, frowning at him. “I might have sought to blunt the effects of the favors they had given, particularly in light of their age and immaturity, but a promise made is a promise made. Surely you know that – you are sect leader, and this is not a personal matter between us. Favors between sects is a matter of your sect, which is your first priority. I would not wish to abuse my position as your husband to interfere.”
“You might not wish to, but you might regardless,” Wen Ruohan said dryly, having figured out a little more of Lan sect cleverness with words by now. “And you might not, though I wish that you would.”
“What do you mean?”
“You are my husband,” Wen Ruohan said, as much for the pleasure of seeing Lan Qiren automatically smile at the reminder as to make the point. “That makes youhalf-master of my Wen sect in your own right…of our Wen sect. Our Wen sect is known for its arrogance, our superiority, our certainty that we deserve everything good in the world, and I would be very happy to see the same in you, Qiren.”
He shook his head.
“It is not abusing your position to want things, even things that are not necessarily to our Wen sect’s immediate benefit,” he said. “I want you to want things. I want you to ask for…no, I want you to demand everything that you want. I want you to learn to expect to receive what you ask for, rather than expecting to have to struggle to obtain it.”
Lan Qiren didn’t understand, Wen Ruohan could see that.
He found his voice softening. “You deserve the best, Qiren. You deserve to have the best given to you: without pain, without struggle, without effort, just for the asking. The world is your rightful due, and if you only ask for it, I would give it to you.”
“You are not using me as an excuse to take over the world,” Lan Qiren informed him primly, but there was something in his eyes that suggested that he had understood a little of what Wen Ruohan meant, even if he didn’t comprehend the fullness of it. At minimum, he’d understood that Wen Ruohan meant that he was family now – Wen Ruohan, who had always put his family over everyone, for good or for evil, with reason or without, following faithfully in the path laid out by Wen Mao in prizing their Wen clan over the whole world. Perhaps he even understood what Wen Ruohan was really saying: that he would now put him first, first before anything.
It might take some time before Lan Qiren could really bring himself to believe what Wen Ruohan told him, and even longer before he was willing to act with that glorious arrogance that Wen Ruohan so longed to see in him, that carelessness and freedom that accompanied true power. But at least he understood that that was something Wen Ruohan wanted to give to him.
A good change, rather than bad.
“This is my promise to you,” Wen Ruohan told him, nodding at the essays. “My loss, yes, my sect’s loss, also yes, but it is the loss I should take. It is my payment for not trusting you, as I should have, because not trusting you is a loss.”
Wen Ruohan was known for many things. He was blood-thirsty, a tyrant, a madman who delighted in torture; he was brilliant, a master of cultivation, ancient and terrifying. He was paranoid and cruel and selfish, and he put his ambitions above everything else.
He might be all those things, but Lan Qiren had chosen him anyway. The least he could do was choose him in return – to let Lan Qiren change him the way he wanted to change Lan Qiren. To trust him, yes, but also…to be worthy of his trust in return.
To be anything less –
Now that would be the real loss.
And, of course, Wen Ruohan did not lose.
Lan Qiren was staring at him open-mouthed.
“Do you understand?”
“…yes. I understand.”
Wen Ruohan kissed him. After a moment, he released him.
Lan Qiren still looked dazed. It was a good look on him.
“Now tell me,” Wen Ruohan teased. “Was that a good enough punishment?”
“If I were grading you, I would pass you with honors,” Lan Qiren said fervently.
Wen Ruohan laughed.
“Now, it is your turn to tell me,” Lan Qiren added, recovering a little. “Do I dare read what Wangji wrote…?”
“I genuinely have no idea,” Wen Ruohan said cheerfully. “He did it all in musical notation.”
“Oh no.”
“I like your second nephew. He’s clever.”
“Please refrain from getting any bright ideas. I am already working diligently on helping him recover his equilibrium; he does not need any further assistance in growing any more feral, and still less does he need to grow any more tyrannical than he already is.” Lan Qiren shook his head. “I will review the essays in full later, and I expect to be greatly amused by them, both immediately and for a great deal of time into the future. Thank you.”
“Of course. Would you like to see what else I have for you?”
Lan Qiren glanced at him sharply. “There’s more?”
“No need to sound so plaintive,” Wen Ruohan chuckled. “Do not do things in excess, or however the rule goes.That was all for the punishment. This one is an out-and-out gift – I painted something for you.”
“You painted…? Is that where you were all morning?”
“All night and all morning,” Wen Ruohan corrected. “It’s in my secondary study, if you’d like to come see it now. Or would you prefer to first discuss the subject that you mentioned earlier?”
Oddly enough, that caused the worried furrow to return to Lan Qiren’s brow, and he hesitated for a long moment before eventually saying, “Do not harbor doubts or jealousy, do not fail to carry out your promise. I think we had better discuss it now.”
That didn’t sound promising. Wen Ruohan tilted his head to the side. “Very well. What is it that you wanted to discuss, then?”
“It is about Lao Nie,” Lan Qiren said slowly. “I promised to myself that I would speak with you on the subject at the first instant I could. And yet, as time goes on, I find myself searching for further reasons to refrain for a little longer – which is misconduct on my part, although understandable. I have only just had you confirm that you returned my feelings, which has brought me tremendous joy. When one feels great joy, one seeks to preserve it…I suppose I wished to have you to myself for a little longer.”
“You do have me to yourself,” Wen Ruohan said, a little confused. “Lao Nie and I are not on the best of terms, as you yourself have seen. While it is true that we have never officially broken off our relationship, his recent actions and behavior make it clear enough that that will be the inevitable result, and sooner rather than later. He suspects me at every turn, disdains me, becomes angry at anything and everything I do – ”
“He had a qi deviation.”
Wen Ruohan stopped.
For a moment his mind rebelled, refusing to accept what his ears told him they had heard. “What?”
“He had a qi deviation, not long ago,” Lan Qiren said. His voice was solemn, serious, and Do not tell lies. He was telling the truth. “His son, Nie Mingjue, told me about it. You know what fate awaits the sect leaders of Qinghe Nie. You know how it looks, when it starts. You know what it does to them. How it makes them feel – ”
“Rage,” Wen Ruohan said, finding that his lips had started tingling, even if the rest of his face felt strangely numb. He did know. He’d seen Lao Nie’s father and grandfather suffer from the very same thing. “Disdain. Irrationality. Suspicion, paranoia…are you saying that you think his qi deviation is the genesis of his recent behavior?”
“I believe it is likely. You know how subtle qi deviations can be, particularly the small ones that the Nie sect initially suffer from – even if it was only discovered recently, it is likely that the deviation has been affecting him for months, perhaps even a year or two. From what I have observed of your disintegrating relationship, and based on your description of past events, his seeming distrust and your reaction to it…yes, it seems likely.”
Wen Ruohan…
Wen Ruohan didn’t know what to do with that information.
He didn’t want to believe Lan Qiren. He wanted to accuse him of lying, even though he knew he didn’t. He wanted to throw something, hit something, hurt something – he wanted to claim that this was all some sort of sick scheme, designed to strike him right when he was most vulnerable. But he’d promised to trust Lan Qiren, and he did trust him, and if there was one thing he knew, it was that Lan Qiren did not lie.
Lao Nie had had a qi deviation.
Lao Nie was dying.
Lao Nie – Lao Nie had come to Wen Ruohan when he’d been at his lowest point, when he’d been sick and tired of living, entertained by pain and nothing more. At that time, Wen Ruohan had been on the verge of considering entering the way of clarity, a path that cut off his feelings entirely as a means of avoiding the endless misery of having them mostly cut off already. He’d been searching for some method, any method, to stop the way he felt dead inside most of the time, dead and bored. Dead, and bored, and…and alone.
Lao Nie hadn’t let him be alone.
Lao Nie had brought to bear all the good cheer his considerable force of personality gave him, and he had aimed it at him. Lao Nie had laughed at him, had teased him, had all but demanded a place in his bed, and Wen Ruohan had found him amusing. It hadn’t been anything more than that at the start of it. He’d been glad that it’d been nothing more than that – he’d thought at the time that he didn’t want any more connections to the world to tie him down, to hold him back. What Lao Nie had offered him had seemed perfect.
A friend, an occasional lover, someone willing to slaughter his way into Wen Ruohan’s good graces, but without any serious commitment…it’d been easy. Casual. Light-hearted, the way Lao Nie always was, no matter the circumstances.
Even when their sects had been at odds, it hadn’t ever gotten any more difficult. Lao Nie was a Nie after all; he was straightforward and blunt, even when he was being clever or tricky. He held no fear of lying, did not refrain from it like Lan Qiren, but his actions, at least towards Wen Ruohan, were so lacking in malice that it was impossible to take offense from them. He’d always saved his malice for other people, and let Wen Ruohan share in the fun with him…
Yes, that was it. Lao Nie had always been fun.
And then he’d disappeared for a while, and returned with Nie Mingjue.
That had been the first break between them. A small one, but still a break – it wasn’t that Wen Ruohan hadn’t expected the man to marry eventually, since as sect leader he had a duty to continue his family line, but for whatever reason he’d expected to be involved in the process. Helping pick out some likely girl, debating her merits, that sort of thing, the same way they amiably argued over the pick of prostitutes during parties they attended. He hadn’t expected to be taken by surprise.
He hadn’t expected to care.
It had been only a little consolation that everyone else had been taken by surprise, too.
And of course it had helped that the First Madam Nie, Lao Nie’s much talked-of goddess, never actually made an appearance herself, even if she did get full honors in the Nie sect’s family record. It had been awkward, yes, and had made Wen Ruohan realize that he felt more things for Lao Nie than he really ought to – he’d reacted by ignoring said feelings for nearly a decade – but it hadn’t really felt like a betrayal.
The second wife felt like a betrayal.
They’d argued over that one. Lao Nie hadn’t understood why Wen Ruohan would care, and Wen Ruohan was too arrogant, and too embarrassed, to admit the truth that he did. After all, hadn’t he been the one to insist on them being nothing more than casual friends who occasionally indulged in more than that? And that was all he wanted, too, or thought he’d wanted, only he’d also wanted to be the most important part of Lao Nie’s life, and it came as a nasty shock to discover that he wasn’t. To discover that Lao Nie was actively pursuing others, and that he would pick them over Wen Ruohan if it came to it.
Things had never quite gotten better after that.
Oh, once Lao Nie’s second wife had died – or disappeared, whichever – they had fallen back into each other’s orbit, being almost too familiar with each other not to. They were the leaders of Great Sects, who knew virtually no peer; of that smaller group, they were the only two who were genuinely powerful in their personal capacities, or at least so Wen Ruohan had thought at the time. He’d known that Lao Nie was exceptionally fond of Lan Qiren, fond enough to almost drive Wen Ruohan into jealousy, but luckily he’d heard enough of Lan Qiren’s lectures to know that the two of them would never be compatible in any real sense. Even if Lao Nie had managed to get Lan Qiren into bed, the way Wen Ruohan had semi-seriously suggested to the man a few times that he try to do and which Lao Nie had laughed off as impossible, he’d been confident that Lan Qiren would never eclipse his own position in Lao Nie’s regard.
It certainly hadn’t occurred to him that he might be the one to fall for Lan Qiren in the end.
Wen Ruohan felt confident that he would have acted in the same way, fallen in the same way, even if his relationship with Lao Nie had not deteriorated to such an extent before he’d married Lan Qiren, but that didn’t change the fact that it had. It didn’t change the fact that Wen Ruohan had been growing steadily more offended by the way Lao Nie never seemed to trust him anymore, the way he always ascribed the worst possible motives to him, the way he seemed to think so little of him. Lao Nie had always had a suspicious side to him, which Wen Ruohan had once liked, a point of similarity between them, but he hadn’t liked it when it was aimed at him. Especially when he actually hadn’t done anything to deserve it!
Suspicion – anger – disdain –
It had never occurred to Wen Ruohan that it could have been caused by a qi deviation.
Perhaps it should have, given Lao Nie’s poisonous heritage, but it never had. Lao Nie was Lao Nie: he laughed where his ancestors would have shouted, let his anger carry him forward without letting it master him. He’d looked for solutions to his familial issue, of course, the way all of his ancestors had, but he’d done so idly, not serious, never serious. He always took things so easily. How could he die of rage?
How could he die?
“How long?” Wen Ruohan asked. The Nie sect doctors knew their business by now, after as many generations as it had been. “What do they say?”
“Ten years,” Lan Qiren said, and Wen Ruohan actually took a step back, staggering, horrified: that was so short. “Nie Mingjue said they’d expressed hope for fifteen, maybe even twenty, but that may have been meant only as comfort. As you know, Nie sect leaders die faster the more powerful they are, and Lao Nie’s cultivation is very strong.”
Wen Ruohan shook his head in denial, but he knew even as he did that it wasn’t something that he could deny.
Lao Nie was strong. And now that very strength was going to take him to the end of his life – too young, too soon, even for a Nie. It was all well and good to speak of trading your future for your present, but one day the future would come calling to collect the debt that had been incurred…
“I told Nie Mingjue that we would help however we could, do whatever we could about it,” Lan Qiren said. “Both of us. I assume you do not object?”
“There isn’t anything to be done about it.” Wen Ruohan pressed his fingers to his temples, which throbbed with a sudden headache, his body already starting to express the grief his mind could not yet accept. “Do you think the Qinghe Nie hate their children? They know what inheritance they are passing to them, they know what it costs, what it will take. They all look for a way out, every one of them…if it was easy, if there was a solution, don’t you think they would have found it by now? Every generation has its geniuses. Medicine, cultivation, esoteric arts; they’ve tried them all.”
“I know. There is no guarantee of success. We can only continue to try.” Lan Qiren hesitated, his face twisting into some strange expression that Wen Ruohan couldn’t quite parse. “If you wish…I had already told you that – that I would not object, if you wished to – with Lao Nie – ”
It was unusually garbled for the typically eloquent Lan Qiren, but Wen Ruohan still got the gist.
He shook his head.
“His mood at the party was foul,” he said. “He’s not taking it well, I assume? He’s still processing the revelation himself. Right now he wouldn’t accept a kind word, much less anything else.”
Lan Qiren nodded.
“And…” Wen Ruohan grimaced. “And I don’t know if I want to, anyway.”
That took Lan Qiren by surprise, Wen Ruohan could tell. He hadn’t been expecting that.
In fairness, before he’d said it, Wen Ruohan hadn’t been expecting to say it. If a few months ago someone had come to him and told him that they could prove that Lao Nie hadn’t really meant all the ways he’d been cruel or distrusting – and even if they’d warned him that there was no way to fix it, no way to have the old Lao Nie back, back as he’d been when things had been good – then Wen Ruohan wouldn’t have hesitated to jump right back into his bed.
But that was then. That was before he’d had Lan Qiren – Lan Qiren, who wasn’t light-hearted, who didn’t take everything easily, who was serious and sober and sincere. Who’d given Wen Ruohan his heart, whole and entire; who trusted him, and had faith in him, and forgave him, even against his better instincts. Who loved him, and wasn’t afraid to tell him. Who had let Wen Ruohan change him, who hadn’t been afraid to seek to change Wen Ruohan in turn.
Lan Qiren, who’d told him with all seriousness that he had lost his mind over him.
Wen Ruohan wasn’t alone anymore. He didn’t need to be content with the scraps of Lao Nie’s inconstant heart, which in truth belonged to no one and likely would never, could never. He didn’t need to be constantly hurting himself by wanting more than he could get, and never getting even what he deserved as the man’s friend.
“The qi deviation might have been the cause of his changed behavior,” Wen Ruohan said slowly, feeling it out for himself even as he spoke. “But it still happened. He still did it. Isn’t it the same for you, what happened with the Fire Palace? Just because there was a valid explanation doesn’t change the reality of it – what happened, still happened.”
He’d been hurt by Lao Nie’s seeming disregard of him. He’d been angry, yes, his vanity offended, but…it had been another betrayal, in a lifetime full of them.
Wen Ruohan was so very tired of betrayals.
He could admit, if only to himself, that some of the incompatibility between him and Lao Nie had preceded the qi deviation. Wen Ruohan was ambitious and greedy, he couldn’t be content with only a part of a person’s heart rather than the totality of it, and Lao Nie wasn’t capable of giving him what he wanted. And Wen Ruohan wasn’t able to give Lao Nie what he wanted, which was a connection that didn’t come with jealousy or unhappiness, something to enjoy without concern, without any strings attached.
“I forgave you for the Fire Palace,” Lan Qiren protested.
“Not everyone is you,” Wen Ruohan said, and omitted to mention you’re also in love with me, so your judgment is skewed in my favor – I’ll never complain about having an unfair advantage, but I prefer to recognize when they exist. “Anyway, like I said, it’s not the time. Lao Nie has ten years, and we will help him, just as you promised Nie Mingjue. Maybe we’ll figure out some way to give him a little longer – ”
Alternatively, they could try to find a way to make him immortal.
Wen Ruohan knew that most people thought he was joking when he said that becoming a god would solve a lot of his problems, but it really would. He was already so powerful, surely he just needed a little bit more…
Anyway, that was a later problem. As was the fact that Lan Qiren was also not yet immortal, though Wen Ruohan felt very confident that he’d be able to solve that problem before it became a pressing issue.
(And once they solved the problem of Lao Nie dying, they could perhaps once again discuss the other question. Lao Nie had always been very good in bed, and Wen Ruohan would be delighted to have the chance to introduce Lan Qiren to that fact, if he were willing. But he would only invite him in as a guest, the way Lao Nie preferred, and this time he would leave his heart out of it.)
“For the moment, we need to figure out who is trying to kill us. That’s the immediate issue,” he concluded, deciding not to think further on the subject of those he loved dying when there was a more pressing practical concern, denial and postponement having always served him very well in the past. Anyway, it was relevant. After all, immortality, in the sense of not dying of old age, was all well and good, but it wouldn’t help you if someone assassinated you.
In fact, even knowing that it had happened, even having lived through it, the whole thing still seemed somehow fake to Wen Ruohan. Who would dare try to assassinate him? With actual assassins, no less. Even if he was personally weakened, he still had all his influence, all his army, all his sect behind him. Surely whoever had ordered it would know that he would take vicious reprisals against them? Why would anyone risk such a thing…?
“There should be an answer to that by now,” he added. “Should we go see what it is?”
Lan Qiren blinked owlishly at him, as if surprised. “Have you not already figured it out? It took me a little time, thinking about it, but in retrospect it seems obvious.”
Now it was Wen Ruohan’s turn to be startled. He most certainly had not figured it out.
“What,” he said, a little disbelievingly, “surely not your brother again?”
“No,” Lan Qiren said. “It was Jin Guangshan. We are going to have to go to war.”
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lazuliquetzal · 6 months
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thanks @bobafett for the tag i love tag games SO much
How many works do you have on AO3? 38! Huh! I don't know what I expected? (If you wanna be exact, it's actually 41 because I have 3 joke fics posted anonymously.)
What’s your total AO3 word count? 653,468
What fandoms do you write for? Whatever I'm into at the moment? Right now it's God of War. Earlier it was Linked Universe. Before that it was Daiya no Ace. But I'm not particularly loyal, it's literally just whatever idea that manages to stick.
What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Reflection -- a classic AA Batteries -- my beloved Dawn of the Fourth -- *evil cackling* ain't no rest for the wicked -- oh my god do people still click on this Denial and Deterioration -- I SWEAR I'M STILL WORKING ON IT I ACTUALLY ADDED TO THE DOC LIKE 3 DAYS AGO
Do you respond to comments? I try to! I try to catch every comment, but if a fic is on the older side and the comment isn't super long, I sometimes don't reply. Not because I don't like the comment (i love all comments i love you all) but because if a fic is not fresh in my brain I don't have much to say
What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? DO NOT READ IT, but it's the shadows we cast. I was fifteen. I'm not linking it on here. It's still on my AO3 because I'm not a coward, but I'm also not very brave, so like, don't read my high school fic, you've been warned.
What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Probably Candid? That one is SUPER fluffy, which is not normally my style, but you know, sometimes you just gotta flex your fluff muscles,
Do you get hate on fics? Eh, not really. I've gotten a few negative comments, but mostly from FFN, and I honestly don't even count those lol.
Do you write smut? If so, what kind? No. I genuinely wouldn't even know where to begin.
Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Nah, crossovers aren't my thing.
Have you ever had a fic stolen? I have seen a fic that was very blatantly referencing one of mine, but I don't really consider that stealing.
Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope!
Have you ever co-written a fic before? Does the absolutely insane crack fic written on the tail end of a 29-hour voice call count?
What’s your all time favorite ship? Hmm. I read a lot of Merthur, but that's mostly because the Merlin fandom tends to be really good, and therefore there's a lot of good Merthur (although I do like Merthur a lot, super Shakespearean, only valid soulmate pairing I've ever seen).
What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? If I abandon a fic, I'm going to make an announcement. If I haven't officially abandoned it, it's still fair game. That said, Replication is like, on the lowest of low priorities.
What are your writing strengths? It comes with absorbing plot structure into your personality, but yeah, I'm a kick ass plotter. Also comedy. That also comes with the plot structure.
What are your writing weaknesses? Atmosphere/description. Worldbuilding. Also to a lesser extent, character voice -- I feel like I eventually default to everyone just sounding like me
Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Depends on context, but it's always through the lens of "how does this effect the experience for the reader?"
First fandom you wrote for? I wrote a Star Wars fanfic when I was like, 9. First fanfiction on PURPOSE was for PJO.
Favorite fic you’ve written? I think the best thing I've written so far is DotF, but my favorite is probably The Disappearance of Narumiya Mei. WHICH I'M ALSO STILL WORKING ON, life just got REALLY WEIRD and I had to take a step back from it RIP
Tagging @tavina-writes, @ellie-tarts, @lieutenantbiscute, @aoryuucchi, @bytebun, @mimbotomy (no pressure if you don't want to!) and of course anyone who feels like doing this
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throwaway-yandere · 2 years
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freeze.
a/n: thanks for this fun tag game @zhongrin!!! I love freeze teams. My second freeze is Ayaka, Xingqiu, Sucrose, and Benny/Kuki/FlexChara... Can ya'll tell I'm uploading this now to cleanse the vileness and violence of the first three fics I wrote this year with some crack and wholesome (diona brings the crack fics) brainrots lmao. SORRY THIS IS SO LATE AHHAHA
Tagging: @leftdestiny-posts, @yostresswritinggirl & @tofuxiaociao, cuz, idk either lmao. anyone who thinks this is fun and decided to make one of these tag me too I wanna read it lololol, and uh, if anyone I tagged already made one can yall send me the link too cuz mixed-kester's was a fun read--
ayato's freeze: Kamisato Ayato, Chongyun, Kaedehara Kazuha, and Diona (+ Ansytea)
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“When, I wonder, did you come under the illusion that you were winning?”
Kamisato Ayato ←→ Chongyun
“You remind me of my sister— not due to an aspect as unsubstantial as wielding cryo visions— it is because of your earnest drive to achieve results while remaining true to one’s self. As a noble, that is a trait I most admire”
“I… Thank you, Lord Kamisato!”
Whenever Kamisato Ayato is forced tasked to go along on Ansy’s expeditions, he looks forward to seeing Chongyun. He thinks of him as good person. Oftentimes, Ayato finds himself observing Chongyun’s practices. In times when there is not much to do but idle, the lord helps the exorcist memorize his lines.
“Save, save, save— think about it like this: who are you trying to save? Picture their image in your head and I assure you, you will never forget the last part of that mantra again.”
“Mind be purged, world be saved… If you were me, who would you be thinking of, Lord Kamisato?”
“*chuckles* Well, that much is obvious, is it not?”
“Hmm… You’re thinking about your family and clan, right?”
“Oh no, I was thinking about Ansy.”
“Really?”
“No.”
They both trust each other, even when most of their interactions are done in silence. Chongyun has undeniable respect for Ayato since they are both heirs to their clan, and in turn, Ayato sees another sibling and friend whenever he fights alongside him.
“As you said, you’ve placed your trust in me, Lord Kamisato! I must not disappoint you.”
“Very well then, I shall go along with this proposal. Let’s see to it that this expedition will go smoothly.”
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“What on earth are you two doing…? Ayato, why is Chongyun sleeping on the table?” Ansy sighed, looking at the wiped-out exorcist. They pressed the back of their palm against his sweaty forehead, paling as they noticed how warm he was. “W-Wait… Did he forget his popsicles? Oh, shucks—”
Kamisato Ayato shrugged but didn’t dare break his gaze at the pot he was stirring before Ansy even entered the teapot.
“I’m not sure, I just had him taste the milk tea I made. I’m rather disappointed that he never got to tell me how it tasted. Perhaps he was too jaded after that expedition you sent him on.”
“Jaded…?”
Ansy grabbed the “milk tea” Ayato prepared.
… Oh no.
“Ayato?”
“Yes, Mx. Ansy?”
“What is this?”
“You’ve told me that Chongyun has an affinity for cold-tasting foods,” Ayato said, completely unaware of his crimes. “So, I prepared him a milk tea that tastes similar to minty meat rolls. I knew you like spicy food so I procured extras for you as well—”
A resounding facepalm echoed inside Ansy’s teapot, which made Lord Kamisato more hesitant to face them.
“My Lord.”
“… Yes?”
“Never cook for him again.”
“Understood.”
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Kamisato Ayato ←→ Kaedehara Kazuha
They canonically know each other and Ayato cares a ton about his subordinate clan members. There’s not much to be added here
They’d likely go on expeditions together with Kazuha in charge of directing where to go.
There’s a silent trust between these two, and considering how much everyone depends on Kazuha when it comes to exploration, he's Ayato’s number 1 advisor.
“Do you think my sister will enjoy this souvenir?”
“Depends, does the himegimi like calligraphy brushes?”
“It is one of her greatest hobbies.”
“Then I don’t see why this you shouldn’t purchase it.”
If it weren’t for Kazuha, Ayato wouldn’t be triple-crowned, honestly.
He’s Ansy’s longest MVP, and the Yashiro Commissioner acknowledges that.
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“How are we fairing, Kazuha?”
“There’s a pleasant breeze…” Kazuha hummed, his chin tilted upward as he immersed himself in the soothing air around him. “And—”
“And glorious sunshine?”
“… Yes,” Kazuha opened his eyes, abruptly taken aback by Ayato’s comment. “How did you know what I was about to say next?”
“I’ve heard my sister say something similar, once or twice,” The Yashiro commissioner replied nonchalantly. “Is it from a poem? I’m afraid I may not be as well-versed as my sister.”
That’s most likely a lie, but Kazuha didn’t question it.
“No, it is not.”
“Hmm, well then, I suppose you and Ayaka have something in common.”
“I wouldn’t dare compare myself to someone as great as the Shirasagi Himegimi.”
“I’m aware, that’s why I’m doing it for you. You have an interesting way of speaking, Kazuha. I hope your artistic talents continue to flourish, no matter how far from home you may be.”
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Chongyun ←→ Kaedehara Kazuha
Probably the only person Ansy trusts with helping Chongyun calm his Yang energy down.
Unlike Diona who seems incredibly excited and Ayato who sounds melancholic when it snows, Kazuha's rather calm whenever it occurs.
Chongyun loves going to Dragonspine with Kazuha. All Kazuha needs to do is sleep ("undisturbed") while he meditates. His presence is enough.
Chongyun and Kazuha most definitely meditate together. They would talk about rocks and recommend which places feel nice to sit on.
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"Is this the place?"
"Yes!" Chongyun gestured to the rock happily. 
Wordlessly, both of them had trekked Guyun Stone Forest. Kazuha did not question where the exorcist was leading him, but the scent of the wind was familiar enough to inform him that this was near Beidou's ship, and that it was also...
"The place an arrow nearly hit me."
"Huh?"
"This was also the place where an arrow nearly hit me," Kazuha nodded solemnly, not seeing Chongyun's shocked expression behind him. "They thought simply because I was busy making a haiku, they'd have a shot at taking me down."
"O-Oh! I'm so sorry I didn't-"
"This is a wonderful spot, Chongyun," Kazuha smiled softly. "Let's both rest here."
"-know this was a bad location... Wait, what?"
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Kamisato Ayato ←→ Diona
“I’m no stickler for doing things in a… certain way. Just be aware that whatever method you use, the important thing is that it delivers… acceptable results.”
“Oh, shush! These hilichurls will go down in just a few “pew pews!” Just wait, ya hound!”
“Being called a dog… Haha, how endearing.”
Unlike Chongyun, Diona and Ayato are unlikely to get along without a snark of condescension from either party. Ayato, unlike Diona, has never stated upfront that he finds her unpleasant to work with, but they make a fantastic team. Diona has saved him countless times, and it’s natural for him to feel indebted to her in some ways.
This is to say: Ayato plays the test subject by drinking her supposedly-garbage concoctions before feeling disappointed that it tastes “normal.”
“Wanna join me, Lord Kamisato? We have an event at Cat’s Tail this week.”
“It is for the best that I sit this one out. I’m a lot more fond of dogs than cats so I will only feel isolated should I—”
“It’s a TCG event~” 
”I see. I was under the impression that this would be about felines and drinks. Please, do list down my name in this event.”
“Nyehe, saw this one coming.”
This is dogs vs cats. Although Ayato wouldn’t stoop low as to “fight” a child, it’s guaranteed that their TCG battles will make the room drop a few degrees.
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“Aaaand +2 heal!”
“Marvelous. I have not thought of doing that play before…”
“Hehe, never underestimate a Kätzlein girl ever again!”
That pose, that phrase, that pride— yes, this certainly reminds Kamisato Ayato of someone.
She thinks just like Arataki Itto.
“Checkmate. That was a splendid match, Ms. Diona.”
“WHAT?! H-How… How did I—” Diona bit her lip. “Wait, hold on! I was just going easy on you, sit back down!!!”
He smirked behind his hand.
Ah, what an interesting kid… Perhaps it’ll be for the best if she didn’t know the full extent of his political prowess, just like Itto—
“Hey, hey! Why are ya’ll having fun without us?!”
Speak of the devil.
Ayato pulled out his chair. The two did not look impressed but for different reasons; Itto mentally branded him a traitor for not playing games with him whereas Ansy thought it was uncouth for their lord to just randomly leave the inn without prior notice. Ayato gave both Itto and Ansy a friendly wave before gazing at the astonished cat once more.
“Beat him and Ansy, and we shall have a rematch, Ms. Diona.”
“Hmph, wipe off that smirk from your face! Just you wait, ya hound!!!”
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Word of advise? We do not talk about █a█ele██!Ayato here.
: )
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Chongyun ←→ Diona
The children.
Think of the children. Think of the children, My Lord. Why are you bringing them to dangerous places— listen, just because you have a thing for child labor in the Shuumatsuban doesn’t mean you can do the same to my childr—
Chongyun and Diona are incredibly fast workers. Together, they inspire Ayato to act as a better role model (Diona's skill increases speed + Chongyun makes normal attacks faster).
Outside of exploration? They don’t know how to talk to each other.
Diona likely wants to befriend Chongyun, but unfortunately, the boy takes her rants to heart. He genuinely thinks Diona hates him. 
She just doesn’t know how to show her appreciation for a kind brotherly figure.
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“Kids, are you two alright?”
“Mx. Ansy!” Chongyun beamed. “You’ve returned— Diona and I took it upon ourselves to help you clean off the hilichurl camp near our tent.”
“Aww, that’s cute, you two!”
“No, it wasn’t cute!” Diona hissed. “He kept charging at enemies when he couldn’t even get his burst ready.”
“I-I just wanted to save you from the samachurl…”
“Hmph! Whatever! You should be happy I got this favonious warbow.”
“Well, Chongyun has a good weapon too, you know?”
“NO, HE DOESN’T!!! WHY DID YOU GIVE HIM A GIANT FISH?!—”
"Jealous?"
"Yes- NO!!! WHY IS CHONGYUN SWINGING A TUNA AROUND???-"
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Kaedehara Kazuha ←→ Diona
… Based on Ansy’s experiences, Diona would often forget to shield Kazuha. Or, at least, the shield countdown runs out when it switches out to him cause Kazuha is honestly the only person that dies in this team—
It’s rare! Of course! But Kazuha has been somewhat unlucky each time.
Diona has no intention of hurting him since he’s one of the rare pirates who never get drunk (granted, that’s because Captain Beidou won’t let him)
The cat always feels sorry whenever Kazuha has to stand in her circle to get himself patched up.
It’s cute. Promise.
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“Ooooh…” Diona whimpered, not knowing how to vocalize her apologies.
Kazuha chuckled, ruffling her hair with his bandaged hand, “it’s alright. Let’s head off with the others, Diona.”
“But…”
“I’m fine, see?” Kazuha raises his arm, relaxing his joints. “I can use my sword just fine, smooth sailing.”
“But if I did heal you perfectly, then why do you always have your hand bandaged?”
Kazuha frowned.
“That’s…”
His gaze lowered.
“It’s not your fault.”
“Then why—”
“And it’s not my fault either.”
Kazuha said. Diona’s no longer sure what he was talking about.
“He wanted to challenge the Shogun for the sake of change. These scars are not mere wounds but a symbol of what heroics he had done for our homeland.”
“I… I don’t get it.”
He ruffled her hair again.
“In short, vision marks are scars you should never apologize for. You’ll understand when you’re older.”
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BONUS:
Ansy ←→ Kamisato Ayato + Diona
Will (mentally) perish if stuck with just Ayato and Diona alone. Once the two stop their banter, THEY’RE the ones getting bullied.
“Ansy, have you ever thought about, I dunno, combing your hair?”
“W-What? But I did comb it though…”
“Hmm, perhaps I should add skin and hair products as one of my employee benefits.”
“My lord?!”
Unfortunately, as one of Kamisato Ayato’s retainers, Ansy couldn’t make a sassy retort towards any of their teasings. Even if they have the “pass”, they’re not evil enough to challenge a commissioner and a child in a “debate.” Maybe next time… When they finally add Dainsleif to their party.
“Just you two wait… Once my husband comes home, I’ll disband this team!”
“W-Wait, c’mon Ansy, we were just kidding!!!”
“Do not put words into my mouth, I am quite serious about those employee benefits.”
“Shut up, Ayato!”
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Ansy ←→ Kaedehara Kazuha
Kazuha and Ansy have been friends the longest since he’s their first 5-star who came home at around 60 pulls. He’s the most used character they have in domains based on Hoyo’s old web events. They both write and draw together to pass the time.
Ansy treats light-haired characters like family, even more so if they have reddish eyes (The chaotic team Lupical: C6 Razor, Itto, Kazuha, Cyno [and their responsible sister C3 Ningguang]). Kazuha is the only one in this team that they outright call their bestie/son/brother depending on their mood. Being comrades since 1.6, they would likely die for each other (platonic).
“Kazuha, you know that I would never replace you, right?”
“It’s okay, Ansy. You can substitute Yunjin in my place for the spiral abyss. I know you worked hard to complete her constellations. I would never be mad at you.”
“*sobs* I can’t… I’ll put you on Ayaka’s team instead…”
“*sigh* I knew you would never let me rest.”
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Ansy ←→ Chongyun
DISASTROUS UNCLE/WINE AUNT MODE ACTIVATED. Ansy thinks of Chongyun as some sort of nephew or cousin to their beloved son Razor. Whenever Chongyun is hurt, they are quick to switch out Diona (so she can take damage lol) for the sake of shields and heals. They adore his wholesomeness and get overprotective when Chongyun is subjected to Xingqiu’s teasing and pranks. Shenhe and Ansy would work together to scare Xingqiu off whenever he goes too far, but Ansy never pulled for Shenhe so their interactions are limited…
They have a smile on their face every time Chongyun glides. He seems happy, so that also makes Ansy happy.
“Dear, what’s wrong?”
“Xingqiu spiked my drink with chilis in Wanmin restaurant again…”
“*cracks knuckles* Hoho, I see. What a fun practical joke indeed! Let me return the favor with even more pranks then!”
“W-Wait, Mx. Ansy, don’t—”
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kleefkruid · 1 year
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polyam ask anon here. Thank you sm for that extensive explanation! I was trying to look on my own but didn't know where to start. I don't have any questions rn (mostly because I need to let the information settle first) but I just wanted to say thanks for taking the time to type all that out. I'm a little hesitant to try polyamory even with toe dipping because I'm very inexperienced relationship-wise in general (haven't been in one before) and I'm a little afraid of what my family would think (I love them dearly, but they don't understand polyam at all and think you "don't love that 1 person enough if you need more")
I'm definitely interested in learning more, though. Are there any resources I could use? Books or anything, like you mentioned?
No rush in starting relationships, I had my first one at 24 and that happened by sheer chance as well. And I'd say experience is overrated because every relationship is so wildly different to the previous. You get better at filtering out some types of people but you will always be bumbling trough each and everyone of them and that's fine, really.
Hmm, book wise I just own Opening Up by Tristan Taormino, which was a gift by a more eperienced polyam person when I was starting out. It's not a light read, it's more of a resource guide to all kind of open relationships and it has chapters on for instance starter things like "turning your mono relationship into a polyam one" all the way to chapters on things to consider when buying property, planning a family. It's one of those books you open when you have a specific hurdle to cross. It's a pretty good guide book in my opinion, for the parts I have read. Not to much 'you must do this' and a lot of 'but consider this'
@ BoldlyGrow is a youtube channel that's now inactive but the videos on there have some explanations of polyam terminology and also go into the benefits but also the harder things about polyamory and questions to ask yourself before getting into it. That might be a useful tool for you, I'd recommend looking into that first and maybe you go "yikes, not for me" without having spend money on a book.
I have seen 'the ethical slut' also be recommended as a resource a lot but I haven't had a chance to read it so I can speak for it personally but I'm adding it bc other people seem to like it?
Another great resource is of course always just making polyam friends, on feeld there's a lot of people who are also (or exclusively) looking for friends bc it's nice to have likeminded friends who understand your lifestyle (I don't have to tell the queer website that). If you have polyam friends they can give you advice thats personal to you or you can just see what they're up to. Lot's of people I hang out with are much less mystified by polyamory after a while bc it will be just as boring as anyones elses relationship haha
You can also look for other poly people in the tags over here but good luck bc you have to block about 500 fanfiction writers (half of them from the bts community, fun fact) before you can see any personal posts (we really need a different dedicated tag it's a mess)
The polyamory subreddits I'd avoid because I mean it's reddit, their relationship advice is bad universally
when it comes to parents, ah, you know, my parents don't understand it fully either but they see I'm happy and they like my partner a lot so that helps. It's generally easier when they can put a face to it. there are a lot of polyam people who aren't 'out' to their families but my family is very much of the 'as long as you're happy' variety so I can't give much advice if that's not the case with you :)
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sunbadger · 3 months
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Mini detectives / Chapter 2
Previous chapter / Next chapter Read on AO3 Rating: General audiences, no warnings apply Relationships: Levi/Erwin, Gabi & Falco Tags: Attack on titan spoilers, post-rumbling, Erwin is still dead, slice of life, mystery solving, a little bit of comedy.
Summary: There is an unsuspecting, wooden urn on Levi's shelf. Since it's incredibly rude to ask him about it, Gabi and Falco instead decide to investigate to find out who it belongs to, and why the flowers in the vase next to it change every week. First they stalk Levi, then they search his whole house, then finally go through all of his personal belongings. It's an ethical operation lead by detectives Gabi and Falco!
“It’s hopeless, Gabi!” He wailed.
“No, no, we’re on the right track!” She moved her hands across the paper in front of them, littered with notes and doodles. “He needs happier flowers,” She tapped the doodle of the flower with her pen. “That means the person was happy, right?” Falco felt a bit dumbfounded by the ridiculously easy conclusion.
“He could have been mourning for a long time, too,” he added.
“Mm.” She bit the end of the pen.
“And daffodils represent um…” He tried to recall. “Strength and ambition?”
“Yeah, like a soldier’s.”
“That doesn’t make the person any more obvious, though…”
“Then we’re onto operation number 2!”
“What?!”
Operation 2: Investigate Levi’s house
The pair resume their quest to find out more about Levi’s lover the next time they clean his house. Instead of working together, Falco was sent to distract Levi, while Gabi rummaged around in his belongings. Falco began to doubt the ethics of the operation.
After having three cups of tea and ten biscuits, Falco had finally kept Levi in the kitchen until the old man decided to head to the shops. He let out a massive sigh of relief when the front door locked. 
He began to carefully look around now that it was his turn to search the place, but Levi’s house lacked unnecessary clutter, and it was difficult to find any clues in an empty hallway. An umbrella and a cane were resting in a basket by the door, two pairs of shoes were left on the shoe rack next to Gabi and Falco’s, a pair of slippers laid further into the house. Nothing seemed like it belonged to anyone else.
With more freedom to look through the kitchen, he started opening cupboards and drawers in there, as well. Of course all of his cutlery looked exactly the same. The toolbox had all the standard stuff in it. The oven was empty. Why was he even checking the oven in the first place?
“Hmm,” he thought. There were a few photographs on the wall. Ones with Levi and Onyankopon, one of Gabi and himself, one of the ocean. Photos, paintings, anything depicting his soldier days simply did not exist. He headed towards the bedroom.
“Falco!” Gabi whispered as he got close. “There’s an emblem here…”
“An emblem?” He leaned over her shoulder. She was holding a patch of the famous Survey Corps logo, which she seemingly found in one of Levi’s drawers.
“Looks unassuming, right?” She shuffled around in the drawer a bit more. “But there’s a necklace here too,” she said, picking it up. “Levi doesn’t wear it. Therefore,” “It belongs to that person?”
“Precisely!” Gabi beamed. “You’re catching on, Falco!”
“T-Thanks?” He looked at the items. A survey corps patch and a necklace. “But um…”
“Now, you may be asking,” She continued as if she was holding a speech. “How can we be sure these aren’t Levi’s?”
“...Right.”
“Cause-” She jumped over to the closet next to the wardrobe, opening the doors to it with immense passion. “Du duuun! His stuff is here!” Falco peeked into the wardrobe. Sure enough, another necklace was carefully put away together with his other accessories. 
“Mikasa told me they got these at a ceremony,” she said, “so it should be a high ranking soldier.”
“That’s…” He stopped himself. Obviously it was a skilled soldier, considering Levi’s rank. It would be wrong to rain on Gabi’s parade, though. “Sure.”
Falco looked further into the wardrobe. 
“Isn’t that jacket a bit too big for Levi?” Gabi blinked.
“What?” Reaching into the back of the closet, she loosened the old Survey Corps jacket from its hanger and held it up for both of them to see. Her eyebrows raised.
“Either he’s gone down a lot in weight, or this belonged to someone else.” 
They were out of time once they heard the front door open, so the pair quickly worked together to put the stuff back in about the same place they found them.
Levi appreciates the help, but he starts to get a bit suspicious when Gabi and Falco offer to clean his house for the second time that week. Still, he accepts, and the pair are able to resume their mission in the same style as before.
"Are you trying to rob me?" Levi asked. Falco forced a laugh.
"What, of course not! We're just helping out!" Levi's deadpan stare said otherwise. 
"Despite the limited movement, I still know my way around a knife.” His eyes already dug daggers into the poor boy. “So no funny business." 
"N-No, sir!" He reluctantly smiled. “Gabi got in trouble, so she’s been told to help out more,” he lied.
“...Of course.”
It seemed Levi was secretly a hoarder. The Levi he knew was always blunt and unnecessarily honest, so it was surprising to find so many books full of fake history on the shelves.
Hundreds of pages made up thick books, some cracked at the spine, with a smell of old burnt wood. Despite the size of the one he was holding, it appeared to have been read thoroughly, implied by the pencil marks under certain passages, occasional folds in the upper right corner, and accidental stains of tea on the sides. To be frank, it was difficult to imagine Levi as the type to analyse a simple book to this extent. Fascinated, he turned page after page, now finding additional pieces of paper attached to the pages for further explanation.
Whoever it belonged to seemed like a clever person. As he turned the page once more, a note fell out. Falco yelped, trying to catch it, but it quickly hit the floor. Despite Levi having left the house for a little stroll, Falco still looked around anxiously, afraid of being caught. Slowly, he picked the note back up.
To Levi, Meet me in my office at 17.00. Sincerely, Erwin.
Falco blinked. That was it? He turned the note a few times, looking for a hidden message on the back, a secret code, nothing. The note was clearly old and folded a dozen times, but here it was, in a mysterious book in Levi’s bedroom. Erwin. Did they finally have a name? He hurried to get Gabi to look at it. 
“Hmmm,” Gabi hummed, “This Erwin guy, huh.” Suddenly, she grabbed the book and began shaking it, and a few more notes quickly hit the ground. “...Oops.” Gabi took the notes in hand and cleared her throat dramatically.
“ Dear Levi, meet me in my office tonight. Sincerely, Erwin.” She shuffled through the papers. “Dear Levi, meet me in my office at-” Her brows furrowed. She switched to the next once. “Deaaar Levi,” she sighed. “Blah, blah, blah- Dear Levi, I could not find you today. We will continue training tomorrow morning, blah blah, let Farlan and Isabel know as well .” After carefully reading out each one, Gabi put them aside with a sigh. She looked at Falco with a disappointed look in her eyes.
“Is it really this Erwin guy?”
Falco shrugged. “Why else would you keep such mundane notes?”
She laid down on Levi’s bed, defeated.
“Do you know Erwin?” she asked.
“Um…” Falco thought. “Erwin Smm… Uhh.. Smith?” He thought. “Was he commander?”
“Yeah, that’s why he’s giving all these orders.”
“I haven’t heard anything about him or… his death, though.” He fidgeted with his hands as they both thought up their own theories. Gabi groaned, but as she opened her mouth to whine further, the sound of keys in the door interrupted her. Both of them flew off the bed. Falco rushed to collect the scattered notes as Gabi tried to fit each book back into the shelf. Levi called for them from the hallway, and in a last ditch effort, Falco was shoved back onto the bed - book in hand, with Gabi soon joining him.
Levi peeked his head through the entrance to the room.
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fanfic-chan · 2 years
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hello!! I’m here to ask about the tickle-tober thing!! if there isn’t anything for 14 (tracing), do you think you could do lee! Itto? i’m not really sure who the ler could be but.. maybe like, someone got curious of Itto’s markings, and found out that he was ticklish? Idk I’m bad at requests haha. remember to hydrate and be safe!! :)
Day 14: Tracing
Ler!Albedo/Lee!Itto
"Hmm... Fascinating. And you say that these markings have always been present? Is that right?"
Albedo questioned monotonously, rubbing his chin in thought as he continued to examine the cheerful onii, who was currently busying himself with one of the many brain teaser toys that the alchemist had lent him to both keep himself amused and to test his overall intelligence.
"Yup!" Itto answered easily, popping the 'p' as he continued to focus on the little toy in his hands, and Albedo couldn't help but smile a little at the way the onii was sticking his tongue out a little in focus. It reminded him a little bit of what Klee would do whenever he could actually get her to sit still long enough to actually focus that intently on something.
Humming a little in response, he decided to continue his examination, and for a while neither of them said anything more, both to focused on their individual tasks to feel like making conversation. But then...
"Gah!!"
Itto yelped, and Albedo flinched away as if he'd been burned, not having expected the other to react so severely when all he'd done was traced a finger along one of the many stripes. He was quick to compose himself again though as he took a step back, concerned.
"My apologies. Did I hurt you?" He questioned, sounding apologetic as he moved to write something down in his notes, perhaps about said reaction, but Itto was quick to stop him before he could.
"Ah! Nonono dude! You're fine! It's just, ah... I'm just a little... sensitive there, is all." He corrected him, sighing whenever the alchemist tilted his head curiously, a silent request to elaborate. "...Ticklish. I'm ticklish ok? Especially on my stripes, for some reason, I don't know."
He explained, rubbing the back of his head in mild embarrassment, unable to help the way his cheeks reddened a little when the alchemist hummed in understanding, a pensive look on his face as he seemed to be considering something.
"Would you mind if I tried it?" He asked plainly after a moment, his voice still betraying no emotion, but his eyes seemed to be glimmering with the faintest glimmer of hope in them at the prospects of learning something new.
"Tickling you, I mean." He added whenever he caught sight of the confused look Itto was sending him, "You don't have to agree to it if you don't want to of course, but I must admit that this has peaked my interest."
Itto paused, a little caught off guard by the straightforward request, but when he really took a moment to think about it, he found that he didn't really mind the idea all that much.
Tickling had never really been something that bothered him much, and he often did use it as a way to bond with others, which is something he'd been trying his best to due with Albedo ever since the traveller had introduced them to one another a while back when the alchemist had tagged along with her to Inazuma to do some research. Perhaps this was the chance he'd been waiting for.
"Eh, sure. It's fine with me man!" The onii answered cheerfully, and the soft smile he got in response was already enough to tell him that he'd made the correct decision.
"Very well." Albedo murmured before once again bringing a hand up to trace along the same stripe that he'd been examining before, except this time, he didn't jerk away when Itto let out another sharp yelp.
"Ehe- Eheehehehe!! Cahahareful!" He warned, trying his best to resist the urge to try and stop the smaller male, "Ihihi'm reheheheally tihihicklish!"
"I can see that." Albedo said with a smile, his words almost sounding teasing in a way even if he hadn't meant them to be, "It seems that much like the traveler, your sensitivity doesn't seem to be affected by your non-human origins."
He commented after a few more minutes of this, and Itto would have asked what he meant by that if it weren't for the scream of laughter he let out whenever the alchemist, without warning, suddenly switched from his slow and methodical tracing to a quick, mischievous scribble.
Itto whipped around to look at him in surprise as he caught hold of the others wrist, only to see the normally serious guy snickering a little into his freehand.
'Ohhhh, so that's how he wanted to play it...'
"Ahahalright thahahat's it! My turn!" Itto declared, giving the alchemist's trapped arm a friendly tug and causing him to topple into his lap as if he weighed next to nothing, "Time to see if you're ticklish too little dude!"
He announced, and soon enough, his own spontaneous experiment seemed to be just as, if not more fruitful that the actual scientist's had been, if his frantic wheezing laughter was anything to go by...
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fairymatchmaker · 8 months
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people i’d like to know better
Thanks for tagging me @moominofthevalley . I'm late since I'm a bit hesitant because I'm not really good in replying or answering... like it would took me forever lol but I'll try my best 🫡
Okay here we go.
last song:
Hmm out of all songs I've listened to, the last one was probably "Better Man" by Taylor Swift. I love most of Taylor's songs ever since I was a kid.
favorite colors:
I actually don't know 🤔😅 I love all colors. All colors are giving me different vibes, feelings and emotions that explains why everything's so amazing and beautiful.
But if we are going to talk about the color especially clothes, I mostly prefer darker colors or just the plain ones.🤔
currently watching:
Ohh ...an on-going K-drama "Marry My Husband". Even though I already done reading the manhwa but I wanna know and see the difference. 😅
I noticed there are some changes of the plot from manhwa to K-drama and I really like it so far 🫰
last movie watched:
Movie?? I can't quite remember of it😭 but I think "Hercules (1997)" and Indian movie titled "Taare Zameen Par" .. dang I remember I cried watching the movie without everyone getting noticed.🥹🥴
currently reading:
None so far.
Unless my study lessons are considered.🥹
sweet/spicy/savory:
All of it🥹🙌
last thing i googled:
The correct pixels, good ratio, size of canvas for digital art🥹
current obsession:
Well ... Seeing different cool poses of models as my future references for fan arts.
Likes it, saves it, and..... forgets.....sometimes
currently working on:
Hhhmmm... A comic based on canon. I have a lots of pending arts, in laptop and even on my phone. I actually don't know what WIP art should I continue because I'm planning to make another one ... Again..🥹
Aside on getting busy again with my school works. I wanna capture the particular feeling or mood and find more inspirations before I can proceed to create an art again. I'll try my best on not adding unfinished WIP arts 😅
tagging:
I don't know who am I going to tag but everyone is very welcome to participate 🤍
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breakaway71 · 11 months
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20 questions writer meme!
Tagged by @galauvant, thank you bb! Retrospectives like this always give me the best kind of nostalgia about my writing, and I could use that right now, in the middle of some heavy projects. <3
1. How many works do you have on AO3? 242
2. What's your total AO3 word count? 1,200,157
3. What fandoms do you write for? Currently? Julie and the Phantoms, Back to the Future, and Stranger Things are the biggies. I also always include Supernatural, because one way or another it always drags me back in unexpectedly.
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Say it Sweet (Teen Wolf, Derek/Stiles, truth serum)
2. Give All My Secrets Away (Supernatural, Dean/Castiel, hurt/comfort, wing!fic but not in the way you expect)
3. All That's Best of Dark and Bright (Teen Wolf, Dere/Stiless, trans MTF Stiles and falling in love and rescues and ~feels)
4. Family Matters (Julie and the Phantoms, gen, Ray accidentally adopts the whole ghost band and Reggie in particular and some stuff happens, idk, lots of good dad stuff)
5. Ad Astra Per Tentaculum (Teen Wolf, Derek/Stiles, space AU, Stiles is an alien. With tentacles.
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I try really hard, but often fail. Not because I don't appreciate my readers, I do, so much, but it often feels like social interaction in my brain, and some days, that's a lot harder than others. It really comes down to how many spoons I have. I have better luck with new fics, and even then, it's a real toss-up if I manage. *hides face in shame*
6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Oh. Hmm. I don't write a lot of angsty endings, honestly, but probably all those things i didn't say. Supernatural Dean & Sam gen fic, and it's. I mean, it's major character death, but in a weird way, and the ending...okay, yeah, it's a lot, but it was also meant to be hopeful?
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Basically everything lol. No, really, I love me a happy ending, if I tried to pick, we'd be here all day. I guess one of my more recent(ish) ones I have a serious soft spot for is the 88 mph (take off, last stop) verse (Julie and the Phantoms band-as-family time travel gen fic) - the ending of the main story itself is pretty damn fluffy and happy, but the timestamps kind of add to the feeling. :)
8. Do you get hate on fics? I've been very lucky that in a couple solid decades of writing fanfiction, I've only ever gotten a small handful of negative comments. And maybe only one or two I would consider actually hateful.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Rarely, these days. I did so a lot more before I realized I was deeply ace. Sometimes I still indulge, but the mood of a story has to fit just right for me to go there. As for what kind, I mean, I've hit a lot of bullet points lol, but overall it tends to be more about ~emotions than the actual smut itself.
10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? CROSSOVERS ARE MY WHOLE ENTIRE JAM, seriously, I live for them, the crazier I can write and make work in a way that makes people screech about me using black magic, the happier I am. Probably the one I'd consider "craziest" in terms of HOW DID THESE TWO FANDOMS WORK TOGETHER THEY ABSOLUTELY HOULD NOT HAVE WORKED TOGETHER was Good Dreams, Sweet Prince - a Julie and the Phantoms/The Sandman crossover, canon-compliant to both universes, where Reggie is Dream's son. (It's also probably one of the crossovers I'm most proud of, honestly.)
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not any I'm aware of
12. Have you ever had a fic translated? I've been asked many times, but it was never something I was comfortable with. There's a level of trust you have to have, not being able to be sure that a translation is true to the spirit of the fic, and it's a level of control I've never quite been able to give up. I feel bad about it, honestly, because I'd love more people to have access to my work. Maybe someday I'll get past my brain stuff about it.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No(t yet)
14. What's your all-time favorite ship? This question is deeply unfair and I rebel, I have too many I love with every piece of my heart, too many I've never been able to give up even when my fandoms have shifted and changed. I can't even pick an all-time favorite just for Supernatural!
15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? There are a lot of them, unfortunately, but I'll probably say my Julie and the Phantoms/Voltron Reggie/Keith crossover fic for sure. It was something I started at the height of my love for both fandoms, but the ideas got way too big for me at the time. Then I lost the fic notebook with most of my outlines and notes for it, and that was kind of the nail in the coffin.
16. What are your writing strengths? Overall, I think my ability to get into a character's head and really nail the characterization. (Which is not to say it's always perfectly true to canon - I've taken a lot of liberties with Reggie, for example, because the show didn't give us a lot to work with besides "comic relief". But I at least know when something I write is veering a little too far from canon to be believable anymore.)
17. What are your writing weaknesses? Action scenes, for sure. And plot. Most of my fics are just ~vibes where plot occasionally creeps in. Sometimes it works and comes together surprisingly well, sometimes it's just ~vibes right through the bitter end lol.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I will do so very sparingly, but it's not something I generally trust myself to do well.
19. First fandom you wrote for? Pokemon, although Harry Potter was the first fandom I ever finished anything for. (Sadly (or, well, not) none of those stories exist on the interwebs anymore, they were all on older sites/forums that either no longer exist or went through a few too many purges. I still have a few of them fics in theory, but they're on floppy or zip discs I can't access, and most were written in programs that don't exist anymore.)
20. Favorite fic you've written? Oh hell. My answer to this changes with the tide, honestly, but one of my most favorites is my Detention trilogy. Dean/Gabriel, student/teacher AU. I think a lot of people were scared to read it because, well, teacher/student (not to mention an unpopular ship), but I worked damn hard to balance a very fine line with that fic, and I was so proud of how it turned out.
Tagging @ladyeternal178, @bananakarenina, @zubenpics, and anyone else who sees this and wants to participate in the fun!
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sitron-sunni · 1 year
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rules: put your music on shuffle and list the first 10 songs that come up and tag 10 people
Genuinely cannot believe how absurdly long it's taken me to do this, but thank you so much for the tag @dummerjan! I'll always love an excuse to talk about music <3
Ok so for the past 11 years I've been listening to music by adding every single song I've ever liked to the same playlist, so there's really no telling what'll show up here.
Kathleen by Josh Ritter (Ok I loved this one for a long ass time and it's still good, I stand by it)
Bare Bones by Rainbow Kitten Surprise (Literally my favourite band, I found them like two years ago? The vocalist is amazing, and this song is great!)
Wayakangaï by Camayenne Sofa (Another banger! I love this one!)
Islands by the xx (Idk I was like 15/16. idk)
Falling by Trevor Daniel (I have no idea where I got this one from. but ok)
Right Now by One Direction (I did have a brief one direction era, but I pretty much only listened to one of their albums. idk, it's not bad.)
Cringe - Stripped by Matt Maeson (I remember I was watching the magicians when I found this song but I don't remember if the song was actually in the show or not? but for a while there I realllly loved this one.)
Sango Ngando by Blick Bassy (I love Blick Bassy! 1958 has some great songs, and Sango Ngando is one of them, though it's not my fave. but good stuff!)
Sunrise - Acoustic by Our Last Night (Hmm ok. When I was 14/15 I really liked this song, and then a guy at school played it on the piano and I was shook. So I told my friend next to me like "oh my god, this is our last night, i love this song, it's so good, i can't believe he's playing our last night" and she just dragged me up to the guy and told him straight up "my friend has something to say to you." I was SHOOK I was embarrased I was betrayed. but I gave my friend like a confused/weirded out look (10/10 acting), and I said "I was just telling HER that. I really like our last night. :)" and the guy was like.. "oh for real?" or something like that, I don't actually remember what he said. but then he held out his hand so i was like, okayyy and grabbed it, like, why does he wanna shake my hand?? And he pulled me into my first and last ever bro greeting, you know, pat on the back and everything, I felt yanked around like a rag doll. Anyways. that was that. Also I had a BIG ASS crush on him in case you hadn't guessed by now.)
Hot Blooded by Foreigner (This is just a good song idk, I like 80's ish stuff.)
This went a lot better than I expected! It's almost as if this playlist is full of song that I've liked and listened to!
Tagging: definitely not 10 individual people, I don't have it in me. If you see this and you're wearing socks right now, consider yourself tagged. Or if you just wanna do it idk<3
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radiorenjun · 3 years
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shape-shifting frolics || camilo madrigal
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¤ pairing: camilo madrigal x reader
¤ genre : fluff. Just fluff.
¤ synopsis: isabela was right. camilo should really man up and talk to you instead of turning into his sister so that he could have an excuse to see you or talk to you.
¤ warnings: slightly out of character(?), utterly nonsensical I was just camilo brainrotting OKAY HIS "ISABELA YOUR BOYFRIEND IS HERE" GOT MY HEART BACKFLIPPING
¤ wordcount: 1.4k
¤ a/n: mutuals, look away, you ain't seeing me simping for a 3d Disney character I swear this is a fever dream. ALSO I AM NOT HISPANIC OR COLUMBIAN SO UH PLS INFORM ME IF I SAID SMTH WRONG
¤ tagging: the fellow members of the camilo simp club yes sir @roochcooch @c-sanshine
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“I don’t think there would be a single boring day if I were to live here,” you exclaimed with a light giggle, one of Antonio’s birds nuzzling its beak against your head before flying away (presumably back into Antonio’s room). “Well, that’s the amazing Madrigals for ya,” Mirabel shrugged with a laugh of agreement, clasping her hands behind her back as you both wandered down the halls filled with glowing, golden doors.
“However, sometimes it isn’t as fun considering I have to deal with Tia Pepa’s irregular moods or the amount of flowers blooming from Senorita Perfecta Isabela’s gift,” she added, shuddering to emphasize her words. 
Finally entering her room, you sat down on her bed, bouncing on the mattress with an enthusiastic smile. “I like your room the most though, Antonio’s may look like something out of heaven itself but yours seems so minimalistic and artistic,” you felt a small tap under your feet, looking down to see the tiles moving as if they were agreeing with you. “Thanks, it was Antonio’s room too, you know. Right before he got his gift, I mean,” she chuckled, placing her hands on her hips as she examined her own room. 
“This is just proof that you have magnificent taste in room decor,” you grinned, giving her an enthusiastic jazz of both of your hands. “I guess so,” she shrugged with a giddy smile stretched across her face, clearly thrilled to have a friend around her age to talk to for once. She was just about to say something when a distant call of her name pierced both of your ears.
"That's Isabela," she shook her head with a small sigh, visibly deflating as her older sister let out another call of her name from God knows where. "Wait here, I'll be quick," she gave you a small smile, waving slightly before frowning abruptly and exiting the room, jogging down the halls while responding with an equally loud "coming!"
Chuckling, you scoot around the bed to get into a more comfortable position. Looking back up to the opened doorway, you spotted Dolores, Mirabel's oldest cousin, standing silently with a plate filled with food. "Dolores, it's good to see you again!" You exclaimed, waving enthusiastically at the woman before getting up to your feet to walk towards her. 
"How have you been? Hearing any gossip lately?" ou been, one of mi favorite Madrigals? Heard any good gossip lately with those sharp ears of yours?” you grinned, nudging her arm with your elbow. The older girl’s eyes darted from her plate of food before giving you a nervous smile, shrugging without uttering a word. “Hmm?” you hummed, tilting your head to the side in slight confusion. Usually Dolores wouldn’t miss an opportunity to spill any juicy gossip around town to you, after all, you two have been pretty good friends ever since Mirabel introduced you to the whole family. 
“Oh Dios, Camilo! Stop pretending to be me to talk to Y/n. Wait, did you take extra food from the table too? I’m telling Abuela!” Dolores exclaimed from her own room, her head poking out of the doorway with brows furrowed in frustration before letting out a small ‘humph’ afterwards. You watched the older girl snuck her head back in her own room, the sound of her wooden door being closed shut could be heard from a mile away as you slowly turned to the person you were talking to. 
“Turning into your sister just to talk to me again, Camilo?” you shook your head with a laugh of disbelief, putting your hands on your hips as you turned to the boy who was still shaped as his older sister. Camilo then proceeded to shapeshift back to his usual self with a slightly bashful, yet cheeky expression, shrugging softly at you as he shoved an arepa into his mouth to keep himself from answering you. He let out incomprehensible answers through the arepa in between his lips, hands moving around to emphasize on whatever he was trying to say. 
“Tio Felix would not approve of you for being such a scaredy cat, primo Camilo,” Mirabel’s voice appeared right behind the boy, who made even louder incoherent noises through a mouthful of food. The freckled, brown haired boy paused when he realised you were still watching him argue back against his cousin with a look of silent adoration, slightly catching him off guard. “You know, you could just talk to me like a normal person,” you raised your eyebrow at the boy, a loopy smile hanging off of your lips. 
Gulping down the remnants of his food, the boy simply gave you a smile that mirrored your own, however, it had some glint of soft bashfulness to it that was simply adorable. Camilo then let out a small grunt when the door moved to make contact against his back, indicating that the casita was silently hyping him up so that he could finally gather the courage to just straight up make a conversation with you without any nervous skedaddling. 
He scrunched his face together cutely as he glared at the door, receiving an amused tap from the tiles of the floor in response. Looking back at you, he raised a hand up to scratch the back of his neck with an awkward laugh. “Well, if I did, that wouldn’t be very fun now would it?” he asked with a wiggle of his own eyebrows as his hand grabbed an arepa from his plate, grabbing your wrist with his pinky and ring finger to raise your hand up towards him before placing the treat on your opened palm. 
“That’s the only talking I’m going to do today, adios,” he grinned, shapeshifting into an exact copy of you as he gave you a finger gun salute before transforming back to himself and running away without another word in case their Abuela was around to see him with a second serving of food on his plate. Mirabel shook her head in second hand embarrassment, walking up to stand beside you as you watched the boy disappear right around the corner with the same loopy smile hanging off of your lips. 
“I still don’t understand what you see in that boy, he’s too cowardly to even talk to you, let alone confess,” she sighed, half lidded eyes bored through the lens of her glasses as she gave you a pointed look. Glancing down at the arepa he had given you a few minutes prior, you simply shrugged with a small chuckle. “At least he’s somewhat trying, I find this equally as amusing as you do, amiga,” you exclaimed with a giddy smile, your shoulders raising as you took a bite from the arepa. 
Ah yes, Camilo Madrigal. The older brother of the youngest Madrigal, one who bears the gift of being able to shapeshift into anyone you know. One who often pulled harmless pranks on you but never made the effort to make a decent conversation with you due to his slight bashfulness, his liking towards you was never subtle in the slightest considering he would silently shapeshift into whatever Madrigal you were most comfortable with (usually Dolores or Mirabel) just to give you a small bit of whatever he had stolen from the pantry. You would usually ask a couple hours later if they actually gave you the snack, only to receive ‘no’s for an answer. 
A sweet gesture, nonetheless.  
“Wished he could just stop posing as other people to try to talk to me though, would be nice to talk to Camilo face to face and admire him straight away,” you shrugged, chewing idly as Mirabel gave you a perplexed, concerned expression. “What? It would be nice to receive food from the boy you like without him shaping into your friend or his older sister to do so, you kno-”
“Camilo! Stop being a coward and talk to your girlfriend face to face like a man,” Isabela’s loud, high pitched voice could be heard from the second floor. Attracting both of your attention as you looked down from the railing of the stairs to see the pastel dressed girl with a snarky grin on her face, arms crossed as loud choking noises could be heard from the distance.
You giggled at the image of Camilo in the middle of eating his food when Isabela suddenly said that, imagining how he would’ve shapeshifted into you out of reflex before punching his own chest to get himself to stop choking. 
“Shut up, Isabela, she’s literally upstairs!”
“Exactly my point!” 
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