#in a chapter which features all of the important characters from his youth???

[fushiglow]

you guys have got to stop cooking with the gojo comeback theories. i’ve accepted his death, no matter how much i hate how it was done. please don’t give me hope, i can’t handle any more disappointment if it doesn’t happen 🥲

(has anyone else realised that this is the first person we’ve seen sukuna cleave/dismantle who didn’t have their head split into two or more parts??? 👀)

if you saw me clowning for a moment there, no you didn’t.

[hopefulsidney]

Some people believe that AFO could be Deku’s father, while some others believe Monoma could be AFO’s son, or related to him in some way. But, ever considered that both Deku and Monoma could be AFO sons?

With the end of the series rapidly approaching, and the amount of evidence that has been gathered, it's very likely that the DFO theory could be true and that AFO could very possibly be Deku’s father. But there’s another character that could very possibly be related to AFO; Monoma. As characters have developed and with the discovery of quirk marriages, it is very likely that AFO would have multiple children, very much in the same idea of Endeavor and having the “perfect” child. This could be backed up by the fact that there’s a possibility he could have experimented on them due to the knowledge of his work with Dr. Garaki. These ideas make it a possibility that Monoma and Deku could both be children of AFO, in turn making them half-brothers.

Monoma & AFO

Parallels/Similarities

Quirks - Monoma’s and AFO’s quirks are almost exactly the same, and some people see Copy as a weaker and inferior version of AFO since there’s a time limit and an inability to use two quirks at once. Plus they’re two of the three quirk-based quirks.

Monomania - They both have a singular obsession, Monoma’s being Class A and AFO’s being OFA and becoming Demon King.

Poses - AFO and Monoma do very similar poses, and have one of them for their pop figures.

Comics - AFO has said that he’s influenced by comics (Chapter 364) and Monoma has Franco-Belgian comics listed as his likes in his Shifuku. If he was his son and/or groomed by AFO, he could’ve had Monoma read the comics that he and his brother read in their youth to influence him to help with his plan to become “Demon King,” then resulting in him having his hobby in reading Franco-Belgian comics.

Similar appearances/features with AFO and Yoichi

Monoma and Yoichi have similar features, some being similar hair and eye shapes, and they both have white pupils. In my opinion, if someone drew Monoma or with longer hair I don’t think anyone would be able to tell the difference. And it’s not uncommon for a parent's child to take after their siblings instead of themselves due to the complexity of genetics. 

I also noticed that Young AFO looks like a slightly older Monoma. They have similar eye and head shapes, other than AFO having a more defined chin, which makes sense as facial features tend to sharpen with age. As of recent chapters, as AFO continues to de-ages with the effects of rewind, he gains a similar appearance to Monoma as seen in these panels.

Monoma’s Birthplace

This could be a coincidence, but The League of Villain’s old bar base and Nomu warehouse was located in Kamino Ward, Yokohama City. This is located in Kanagawa prefecture, which happens to be where Monoma was born. (Ultra Analysis).

Horikoshi Loves Making Star Wars References

In Class B’s Sports Festival play, ‘Romeo and Juliet and the Return of the Prisoner King of Azkaban,’ Monoma reenacts the “I am your father” scene from Empire Strikes Back with him portraying Romeo, who’s an amalgamation of the characters Romeo, Luke Skywalker, Frodo and Harry Potter. Tetsutetsu could be a representation of AFO, as both Kamino Ward and Final Arc AFO and Tetsutetsu's play character are based on Darth Vader, like AFO. Monoma, being in the role of Luke, could be a foreshadowing element of his connection to AFO. Additionally, this is the only scene of the play we see illustrated/animated which potentially highlights its importance to the overall story.

On top of that, Mirio and Eri referred to him as the “dark side of U.A.'' which can be a reference to the dark side that the Sith practiced and was associated with in Star Wars, that could anticipate a connection with AFO.

———————————

  Now, it is possible that Deku being AFO’s son could be a red herring. However, with all of the evidence supporting the 'AFO is Deku’s father' theory, I find this doubtful. This also brings attention to all the evidence supporting the 'Monoma could be AFO's son' theory. I am surprised that I have never heard anyone talk about a possible relation, and with all of this in mind I believe there is some likely evidence that could point to Deku and Monoma being half-brothers.

Horikoshi loves making Star Wars references pt 2

When the original DFO theory became popular people would say Deku, All Might, Gran Torino and AFO would fit into the role of Luke Skywalker, Obi Wan, Yoda and Darth Vader. However, we’re missing out on who would fit into the role of Leia. Most people would answer with Shigaraki but it wouldn’t make sense for Shigraki, the main villain, to be Leia since Luke and Leia were always allies. So if Deku and Monoma were, in fact, half-siblings, this would mean that the role of Leia would fit Monoma more than it would Shigaraki.

Mirror AFO and Yoichi

The Deku and Monoma quirk dynamic shares a similarity to the Shigaraki brothers, Yoichi and AFO. Monoma and Yoichi share similar features/appearances, like them sharing the trait of white eyes. However, Monoma has a similar power to AFO and also shares similar personality traits with AFO, like having a singular obsession over one thing. Deku, on the other hand, shares similar features with AFO, most notably his curly hair and people have said his silhouette could look like an adult Deku. Even so, Deku is the one that possesses the power of OFA and shares personality traits with Yoichi like their similar strong sense of justice.

Battle Intellect

AFO is shown on multiple occasions to have a genius intellect. Deku and Monoma have both proven that they have a high intelligence and skill when it comes to strategizing and analyzing in battle. They could have inherited their intelligence from AFO if he was their father.

Ability to hold multiple quirks naturally

AFO, Deku and Monoma are the only 3 characters who have quirk-based quirks, meaning that their base level quirks only work when coming into contact with another quirk. They are the only ones who can naturally hold multiple quirks without body modifications or suffer any repercussions, i.e. becoming incapacitated, having cracks form on their body, having their lifespan shortened, etc.

Class counterparts

Speaking of parallels, Monoma and Deku are very similar to each other to the point they can be called each other's counterparts for class A and B. Both characters share similar backgrounds, being told they can’t live up to being a hero because of their quirk status. Both are the biggest influences to their classmates, despite not being the official leaders or representatives. Their quirks are direct counterparts as well; Deku’s quirk can be given to others and Monoma’s “takes” quirks from others. They’re also, coincidentally, both placed in seat 18 of their respective classrooms.

However, I believe Deku isn’t the only counterpart Monoma could have. It’s been shown multiple times that Aoyoma and Monoma counterpart each other as well. Their personalities are very similar; both are fond of posing dramatically, frequently attempt to grab the attention of their classmates, despite frequently being ignored or brushed off, and are highly insecure of themselves and their quirks and try to hide it by acting eccentric and flamboyant. Additionally, both characters have a habit of breaking the 4th wall in their own respective ways, both shown to be very observant, hinted to come from French descent, and are highly insecure of themselves and their quirks and try to hide it by acting eccentric and flamboyant. 

These character traits that all three characters have could indicate all of them having a connection with AFO, especially since two characters already have a canon connection. 

[no-where-new-hero]

@alwayschasingrainbows, here is your requested author commentary on "The One Who Takes"!! Quotes and responses below the cut :)))

The next day, he didn’t mention her leaving again. Instead, he brought her to a bathhouse (“don’t even think about eating any of the ajummas”) and to a store for clothes (“you might be happy going around in those ragged sweats, but they don’t match my décor”) and finally to a restaurant (“if you must eat with your fingers, at least wrap the food in lettuce first, people will stare”)

Character building! This was slightly influenced by the one spin-off Rang episode featuring Yu-ri (where they go to a restaurant and he needs to teach her table manners), but also just from his constant vibe of being sweet and thoughtful while pretending to be all tough and uncaring. One thing that I did want to bring out of Rang and Yu-ri’s relationship is their slight Professor —/Eliza Doolittle vibe (since Rang is teaching her how to behave in a certain kind of society, after all)

She had been born the third child of her father’s second wife, who died on the birthing bed. Her two older sisters had been married off to the highest bidders when she was too young to remember more than the cadence of their voices and the gloss of their hair, but as soon as she turned sixteen, she knew that the highest bidder, in her case, wouldn’t be a husband.

Origin story! I had largely forgotten if canon gave us of anything from Yu-ri’s life before the zoo, but her very lack of nostalgia made me feel like it was nothing good, so that was my starting point for her backstory. The three sisters without a mother idea alluded to the fairytale structure of orphaned threes (Beauty and the Beast came to mind), but also to the danger of being a young woman in a world where youth and beauty is a commodity. I also had a sense that…Rang is protector and family to Yu-ri as well as (suggested) lover, so I thought there needed to be an obvious void in her life for him to fill.

Bowls of takeout cold noodles were spread over the table in front of them, and when cold noodles were around, the conversation was apt to stretch and twist into nostalgia.

Naengmyeon! The most important food in the show (Ji-ah’s dad's kimbap is the second most important lmao). Yu-ri knows how Rang likes to dress it, it’s Rang’s favorite dish, it’s what he shares with Yeon later, just a little Easter egg.

She never loved Koo Shin-ju the way she loved Lee Rang-nim, but she was beginning to learn there were other kinds of loving: a kind that could disarm her, that could nurture her, instead of honing her as fierce and keen as the edge of a knife.

I wrote this before I knew there would be a Chapter 2 (which makes Shin-ju/Yu-ri less idealistic lol), but I really wanted to suggest that Shin-ju’s presence in her life was something that would teach her that being a fighter doesn’t have to represent the whole of her nature. I think I was unconsciously echoing Éowyn and Faramir from LOTR—Éowyn’s love for Aragorn (like Yu-ri’s for Rang) is based on her thinking that martial strength is what gives her worth, but Faramir and Shin-ju tell them that tenderness and healing are just as worthwhile, too.

I promised you a stolen life.” He smiled up at her, that old devil-may-care grin that promised nothing could go wrong. “This one…it was always mine. I offered you a piece of it for a while, but you deserve one all your own.”

This line I love retroactively because it gave me a backdoor through which to end Chapter 2 when I wasn’t sure at all how that was supposed to work. But it was also me being a shameless Rang enjoyer when I wrote it. His smile—the fact that his goodness always comes with a caveat—the notion that things in the world are yours for the taking. I needed a way to set up the beginning of the canon, and I just wanted to play with the deliciousness of their dynamic for a bit.

[merakiui]

[7] 𝔹𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣 & 𝙎𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙮

yandere!xiao x (gender neutral) reader cw: modern au, yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, kidnapping/captivity, dark/obsessive thoughts, implied stockholm syndrome, violent threats, brief mention of suicide/death previous chapter → [bitter & salty]

Cold and biting, the snowflakes are a razor’s edge against the flushed skin of the savory man, his golden eyes filled with warmth and his beige coat fighting the winter’s nip with its woolen threads. He stands at the mouth of a frozen alleyway, where the darkness stretches onwards into infinity and all is swallowed in its ravenous maw. Dumpsters line the walls and trash is strewn about in heaps. His dress shoes click against the frozen pavement when the sight before him sets his legs in motion. Piles of snow have accumulated on the edges of the street, bleeding into the walkway like ink on paper, but that’s not what has stolen his attention. 

Huddled against the dumpster is a young boy. He can’t be any older than seven, what with his youthful features and small size. He’s skeletal to a deathly degree, with sharp elbows that stick out like twigs as he wraps his arms around himself and shivers. He’s more bone than skin, the man realizes, and he slows his gait once he reaches the boy. He risks a glance upwards and shrinks into himself more, defensively avoiding him as if he expects him to strike like a snake. His scowl is vicious, a look meant to drive others away. But the savory man stays because one’s countenance is not enough to properly judge one’s character. 

The boy isn’t wearing a coat—or anything substantial for that matter. Just a pair of patchy shorts and a tattered sweater. His breaths come out in icy puffs, haggard and impossibly slow. 

Just how long has this child been out here in this inclement weather?

He bends down to his height and extends an arm. “I’m not going to hurt you.” When the boy doesn’t respond, he adds, “You can call me Morax. How about you?”

He opens his mouth to respond and then shakes his head. 

“You don’t have to tell me, little one. Although this weather must be unbearable for you. Would you like to go somewhere else? It’s warm and there will be hot tea waiting.”

His eyes widen at the promise of warmth—a thing so foreign it only belongs in the nicest of dreams—and he pokes his head out of his invisible shell. A small, trembling hand reaches for the mitten-clad one poised patiently in front of him. He hesitates, so close to retreating and never showing his face again, but he’s deathly cold and wishes for nothing more than a miracle. Even if it’s foolish to hope in a place as hopeless as this one, he does it anyway. 

The savory man rises to his full height, shrugs off his coat, and wraps it around the boy. He tenses at the contact like a cat in water. The boy stands on wobbly legs and he finds support against the savory man’s leg, fingers digging into his pant leg to ensure he isn't just a hallucination orchestrated by Death’s clever hand. Carefully, he picks him up and holds him as though he’s a glass sculpture that could break at any given moment. 

The boy had a name once. Alatus. He hasn’t used it in a while, though. Now it’s been replaced with boy or runt from that man. Just thinking about him—about how he left him for dead on this cold, barren street—sends a bolt of anger down his spine. But what can he do? He’s weak. He’s worthless. He’s no one of importance. He’s—

“Alatus.” It’s the first thing he says to the man with golden eyes and long, elegant brown hair. He rests his head on the man’s shoulder, exhausted. His heart beats sluggishly inside his rib cage and his unruly hair falls down his back in tangles. It hurts to breathe. It hurts to think. It hurts to exist. “My name.” 

“Alatus?” He hears the solemn bitterness with which it was pronounced and asks, “Would you like it if I called you by that name?”

Is this a choice? Is he allowed to choose without any consequences? Slowly he shakes his head, still uncertain of the price for answering truthfully. 

“Then your name shall not be Alatus.”

He forces himself to stay awake—forces himself to listen and comprehend all of what the savory man is saying. The morning sun begins to peek over the horizon, bathing the skyscrapers that tower over the two of them in shades of yellow-orange. Snowflakes drift down in the early-morning haze. It’s the beginning of a peaceful day. 

“You are Xiao.”

Xiao, he repeats in his head. Xiao. Not Alatus but Xiao. Xiao. Xiao. Xiao. 

And with his new name swirling within his frostbitten mind, he succumbs to his exhaustion and slips into another dark world in the arms of the savory man, whose eyes are like pools of liquid gold and his voice is as soothing as sunshine. 

When Zhongli steps off of the train and onto the bustling station platform, where throngs of commuters push past one another in order to make it to their destination in a timely fashion, he spots a man who has the same stature as Xiao. Timid and youthful, with a stack of papers clutched close to his chest, he stands off to the side to avoid being swept away in the crowd. As Zhongli makes his way past him, acknowledging him with a polite nod, the man abruptly steps in front of him. 

“May I help you?” he asks, voice as smooth as sea glass. “I’m afraid I’m in quite the hurry and have no interest in buying anything.” 

“I promise this won’t take more than a minute.” He fumbles with the stack before securing a sheet and passing it to him. “I’m sorry for stopping you like this, but I’m looking for my roommate. By the end of this week it’ll have been three months since I last saw them. If you have any information at all—whatever it is—please call this number.”

Zhongli pauses to inspect the flyer. It’s a missing persons poster with a picture of a young adult on it. MISSING is printed in bold, red letters and below that is a list of relevant information in bullet points. He glances at the man once more, noting his frazzled appearance and grave expression. It’s obvious he’s lost sleep over this; his eyes are ringed with darkness and his face is pale and sickly. His long blond hair is tied back in a messy braid with some strands sticking out in various places. Zhongli’s heart aches at the sight.

He knows it’s never a good sign when a missing person fails to turn up after a few weeks. And though he doesn’t want to think that they could be dead, there aren't any other optimistic thoughts that cross his mind. Statistics are there for a reason, and if such statistics state factual evidence he has no choice but to believe in the worst-case scenario. 

“I hope you will find them. Someone must know something,” he says with an air of distance, not intending to instill the wrong feelings in a man who was once so bright. “Surely the authorities are working day and night to locate them. Patience is the key.” 

He sighs wistfully when he looks at the image displayed on the poster. “But patience isn’t getting us anywhere. I want to look on the bright side, but it’s so hard. They’re not one to run away and they’re always careful when coming back from work. I’m just so worried.”

Zhongli hums in agreement. “Whether or not there’s a bright side to this situation, it’s better to have some hope instead of no hope at all. If anything new turns up, I’ll be one of the first to notify the police.” 

“Thank you.” He smiles, but it’s weak and strained. “Um… Have a good day, sir.” 

“You as well.” Zhongli waves slightly and continues onwards, only stopping to turn around and add, “And make sure to get enough rest. A healthy sleep schedule leads to a healthy mind.” 

The man calls out another hollow thanks and then opens his mouth as if he intends to say something else, but he’s already turning the corner, heading up the stairs and out into the gloomy afternoon. It’s unusually chilly and as he folds the poster and slides it into his pocket for safe-keeping he thinks of the reason for his spontaneous visit. Kidnapping aside, he hasn’t been able to contact Xiao since he stopped coming to work one week ago. Normally this wouldn’t be much of an issue, considering Xiao rarely uses his phone and relies on emails to stay up to date with everything in the company. He’s not even in any of the company group chats and no one’s made the initiative to include him.

It’s painfully obvious just how much of an outsider he is. Like a person peering inside a full house, stuck outside in the snowy weather—cold and lonely. And if anyone notices his hands pressed against the frosted glass, his breath coming out in small pants as the ice crackles and snaps, freezing him to the ground, they don’t come to open the door.

Zhongli frowns as he stares ahead at the pavement, hands stuffed snugly in the pockets of his beige coat. He has never liked traveling to Xiao’s apartment. Even though he ought to feel proud of Xiao for choosing his own independence, there’s always an underlying worry that he might get himself caught up in something he can’t handle. Zhongli trusts Xiao’s autonomy and doesn’t want to doubt his capabilities, so he gives him his space. Although sometimes he wonders whether or not he’s truly okay. He’s aware of his troubled past and how his childhood was devoid of all the things a child should have.

Xiao tells him not to worry. He’s going to worry.

He passes a rundown, dilapidated house and spares it a glance. A shadow moves behind the nearly shattered windows and so he picks up his pace. Xiao’s neighborhood is not safe. That is a fact he’s come to terms with whenever he visits, having seen firsthand just how suspicious the area can be. Zhongli keeps his wits about him as he takes in his surroundings, acutely aware of the group of hooded people loitering in an alleyway with cigarettes balanced between their fingers or the woman who walks past him with her head down. Despite his spatial awareness, he has been pickpocketed once. The thief only stole some expired coupons he had forgotten about—thankfully his wallet was in the other pocket—but regardless of that it still happened and since then he’s gotten better at watching those around him. 

After a few minutes of turning down quiet roads and tracking the right way on a map, he finds himself in front of the entryway to Wangshu Apartments. The buildings tower over him like a looming monster against the backdrop of the cloudy sky. Zhongli takes one step forward and pauses. 

Another footfall resounds from behind him. 

Slowly he pivots, staring at the empty street in confusion. His eyes track the parked cars lining the road, searching for the owner of the footstep. Yet he can’t find anyone and his brain works effortlessly to come to a conclusion. His nerves, worn and frayed from fretting over Xiao and his mental health, are getting the best of him. Zhongli’s not sure what will happen when he knocks on his door, but he hopes there will be an answer. 

He’s going to worry. He has to because Xiao never worries about himself. 

Without another delay he faces the apartment complex and heads in the direction of Xiao’s building, ignoring the suspicions that linger in the back of his mind like a distant fog.

Two sets of feet enter the vicinity. 

“Xiao.” You’re not sure how many times you’ve called his name, but it’s started to worry you. A seed of panic has been implanted in your heart and it’s blooming wildly at the fact that you haven’t heard any movement in a day. Throughout the week you’d hear movement. Usually late at night, when he leaves his room to go to the bathroom or grab something from the kitchen. By the time you’re up and ready to catch him, the door’s shutting and locking and you’re forced to try again next time. “Xiao, I’m scared. The house is burning down. I’m dying. The police are here and they’re going to drag me away and we’ll never see each other again.”

No response. Not like you were really expecting one. 

A sigh weasels out of your throat as you steel yourself, clenched fist falling upon the surface of his door. Three knocks—in time with the steady rhythm of your heartbeat—and the door still doesn’t open. How long has it been since he’s left this room? Two days now? Is he even eating properly? You’ve prepared meals for him and have set them on the floor for him to take. The plates disappear, but that’s the only proof that he’s still alive. Even now, as you sit cross-legged in front of his door, you wonder why he hasn’t come out to retrieve the breakfast you’ve left for him. Twenty-four hours and no sign of life. He could be sleeping right now and you wouldn’t know. The sinister part of your brain tells you he’s dead—that he killed himself and now you’re going to rot away in this sad, lonely, barren apartment and no one will ever find you until your skin has withered away into nothingness. 

“It’s not your fault,” you say, hoping the sound of your voice will quell your horrific thoughts. “I forgive you, so you can come out now. We can make lunch together. There isn’t much left in the fridge, but we can improvise. And after that we’ll watch TV and I can tell you all about this dream I had. It’ll be okay, so please open the door. I want to see you. Xiao, I’m really worried about you. I can’t live without you and—”

A muffled knock interrupts you. You whirl around in alarm and stare down the length of the hall at the front door. It stretches on before you in an intimidating sort of way and when another knock resounds your heart leaps up into your throat.

Someone’s here… Who is it?

You tiptoe over to the door and, counting to three in your head, quickly peer out through the peephole. A man with brown hair stands there, tall and sophisticated, with sharp eyes that pierce through the door and into your very soul. You’re almost certain he could melt it down with his gaze if he tried hard enough. He raises his fist and knocks again and your eyes trail down to the door knob. You have no idea who he is. He doesn’t look like a police officer. But what business does he have with Xiao? Perhaps it’s a work friend? Could it be this Ajax person he’s complained about before? You know it’s been a while since Xiao left for work and even though you’ve lost count of the days it’s been long enough to raise suspicion. 

Nevertheless, your curiosity gets the better of you and you reach for the door handle, fully ready to unlock it and let this mystery man inside. 

His arm is wrapping around your throat seconds later, putting you in a rough chokehold that has your nerves tingling with shock. 

“Xiao, you’re okay! You’re—”

“What are you doing?” His voice is low, threatening, and hoarse. 

“N-Nothing. Someone came to the door. I was going to see who it was.”

His hold on you loosens and you crane your neck to get a look at him. His yellow eyes are blown wide when he pushes you away, striding briskly to the door and peeking at the man who waits outside. His breath sticks in his throat. It’s one of the first times you’ve ever seen Xiao act so on edge before—as if the person who’s standing on the other side of the door is some horrible, snarling monster who’ll rip him apart the minute he steps foot inside this room. 

“Go back to the closet.”

“What?” 

“The closet. You have to stay there until he leaves.”

“But I don’t want to!” you protest quietly, shaking your head to cement your refusal. “I can’t. That small space… I won’t go back there. You promised you wouldn’t put me in there again. You promised.”

He turns to face you. “If you’ve truly forgiven me, you’ll go inside and you’ll be quiet.”

“No way! I can’t.”

He scowls and reaches for your arm. “I’ll drag you there if I have to. There’s no time for this.”

You back away at once, desperately holding your hands up as if that’ll keep him away. He looks so tired, but even that isn’t enough to tug at your heartstrings. There’s no sympathy to be had for the one who’s about to throw you into a hellish, cramped space again. If that’s your fate, then you’re very intent on fighting it. Xiao’s fingers curl around your forearm and you swipe at him with your free hand. It makes contact with his cheek and your nails dig into his skin. He lets out a pained hiss as blood rises from the wound, a drop of it slipping down his cheek like a lone teardrop. You struggle to shake him off after that, kicking and thrashing like a wild animal, but he persists, yanking you down to the floor and bending your arm into an uncomfortable position behind your back. 

It’s instant, bitter karma that has come back to bite you. You can’t fight him. You’ll lose no matter what you say or do. 

“I don’t want to break it,” you hear him whisper and your spine stiffens. “I won’t, so just do as I say. Just this once.”

“O-Okay… I’ll go. Just… Please don’t break it.” You wince when his hold on you tightens for a moment before he releases you. “But you have to tell me who that is and you can’t be angry.”

“Fine. Whatever.” 

You follow him back to the closet on unsteady legs. His room is dark, the curtains closed and the lights off. You’re staring into a black void as soon as he opens the door to that dreadful closet, ushering you inside. Your soles stay rooted to the floor.

“N-No… It’s too dark. I have to have a light.”

“No light. Nothing that might draw his attention.”

“Xiao, please—”

“No. That’s final.” Blood seeps from the scratch on his cheek and he wipes it with the back of his hand, his eyes narrowed in a deadly warning. “You won’t make any sounds while you’re in here. It won’t be long. Just be patient.”

Easy for you to say. You’re not the one being thrown in here, you almost say.

The door starts to close and you throw yourself at it the minute you hear the key turning in the lock. And then Xiao walks away, his footsteps growing fainter by the second and his bedroom door shuts. You’re stuck behind two doors now, and your breathing is unnaturally loud in your ears. 

Stay calm. Relax. You’re okay. It’s not that bad, you tell yourself, chest heaving. I’ve done this before. I can do it again. I just need to focus.

You scoot back until you make contact with the wall. Something brushes against your hand in the dark, emitting a sharp, crinkling sound that has the hairs on your neck standing up. Blindly, you grab at it until it fits in your hands. It feels like a crumpled ball of paper. And having made that deduction, your heart is put slightly at ease. The relief lasts for a few seconds before you hear the same sound come from behind you, while your back is to the wall. Peeling yourself away from it, you stretch your arm out and feel along the surface of the wall. It’s definitely paper, you realize, and the more you feel it, the clearer the visual inside your head becomes. 

There’s paper on the walls.

You slowly rise to your feet in the closet, feeling around for a light source. Your fingers close around a chain and you give it a harsh tug. Light illuminates the space at once. 

Much better, you think, relieved.

Though maybe it’s not better. As soon as you’re bathed in the light, you can see the contents of the paper. Pasted all around you on every surface, from top to bottom, is the same document. A dozen faces smile back at you from the sheets, some of which have been scratched out and some of which have been boxed in with jagged, black marker. Your jaw drops in muted horror.

From all angles, your missing persons posters surround you. There’s writing scrawled on some of them. It’s the same sentence: I will not hurt you. Over and over, plenty of times until the writing is illegible. Like a punished child serving time by writing out promises on the chalkboard. I will not hurt you. I will not hurt you.

Xiao unlocks his door and throws it open with a force that startles Zhongli. It bangs against the wall and shakes in a rebound as it comes to bump Xiao’s outstretched leg.

“Come in.”

Zhongli raises a brow but says nothing as he enters, dutifully removing his shoes and leaving them by the door. Xiao shuts it softly behind him. The coldness in the room hits him like an oncoming train and he stuffs his hands inside the pockets of his coat.

“I’ll prepare tea.”

“Thank you.”

Xiao retreats to the kitchen while Zhongli lingers in the hall, observing the small living room and then briefly glancing at the bathroom door. His apartment looks as spotless and empty as it did the first day he moved in. It’s a shame he’s left it like this, without any decorations, but it’s not his home to criticize. 

“Is everything all right?”

Xiao stiffens when he hears that question. 

“You don’t have to tell me if you’re uncomfortable, but knowing whether or not you’re okay would put me at ease.” 

“Why?”

“You haven’t shown up to work in a while. As I’m sure you know, that’s more than enough to cause concern.” 

“Well, I’m fine. So don’t worry.” 

“Are you getting enough sleep? Are you eating healthy?”

“I am. You don’t have to worry about me. I…don’t deserve it.” 

“That’s not true. I’m sure you know just how valuable you are.” Zhongli steps inside the small kitchen and eyes the dishes sitting in the sink. Lots of plates and silverware have accumulated in the basin, waiting for gentle hands to scrub them clean. He pulls out a chair and sits at the table. “If you ever need to take a break, come to me and we shall discuss—”

“I don’t need a break. I’m fine.” He turns around abruptly, as if to shoot him a nasty scowl, but then he catches himself and his lips ease into a frown. 

“You’re bleeding. Is everything all right?” 

Xiao touches the injury with two fingers, cringes at the sting, and pulls them away to view the blood. “This is nothing. I’ll wash it off.”

“Xiao, I’m going to speak to you as someone who once looked after you and not as your current employer.” He folds his hands on the table, an indicator that he’s quite serious and will spend the entire day in this room lecturing Xiao until the sentiment gets wedged in his brain. Xiao knows he cares, but he can’t be bothered to listen to him right now. Not when his secret is patiently waiting for him, braving the scary confines of his closet. “I’m sure you know that you’re free to tell me whenever something or someone is bothering you. You needn’t shoulder the full weight of what burdens you. There will always be someone willing to help you.”

“It was just a scratch from a stray cat,” he mutters, holding a napkin up to the wound. “I’ll be more careful next time. It’s not something I would want to trouble you with.” 

“A stray cat? Are you looking after one?” 

Zhongli sounds…happy. There’s a fluffiness to his tone that reminds Xiao of good-natured relief. The sort of intonation that says, “I’m so proud of you, moving on and coping healthily. Good for you for adopting a cat!” Only with Zhongli it’s concealed in his voice, just barely heard over the layers of gentle composure he’s stacked onto an intonation that was once commanding. A voice befitting his savior. But Xiao isn’t coping. He’s not healthy, and like a wad of gum that’s been stuck under a desk he’s hidden all of his secrets alongside it—where they’re left to harden as time passes, never to be seen or mentioned again. 

“No. I saw it on my way home.” 

A feeble, half-baked lie. It sinks into his stomach like a stone in a pond, so heavy and gut-wrenching that he regrets it at once. He’s never made it a habit to lie to Zhongli before, but he can’t reveal even a fraction of the truth. If he gives Zhongli a crumb of what’s been going on behind the scenes, he’ll work like a detective who comes across a groundbreaking clue. He’s smart, frighteningly so. It won’t take long for him to figure out what’s going on. Xiao can’t risk it. Who knows how his savior will react if he learns the one who was rescued and raised with such care is a no-good, bitter, secret-stealing murderer. 

He swore to Zhongli many years ago to always be by his side. That promise will seem empty if he can’t overcome his own fears and drag himself back to work.

“I’ll be at the office tomorrow.” 

“If you need more time—“ Zhongli starts to say and then pauses when a cup of herbal tea is placed in front of him, heat radiating off of it in delightful clouds. He inhales the calming aroma. “Thank you, Xiao.” 

“Don’t mention it.” Xiao doesn’t fix himself a cup and instead chooses to stand awkwardly near the stovetop, where the tea-filled kettle sits. 

“I read an article in the paper yesterday,” Zhongli begins, sensing Xiao’s discomfort. Perhaps it’s related to work. Perhaps it’s not. In any case he wants this to be an enjoyable afternoon and so he gestures for Xiao to sit. Without hesitation he follows the silent order, shoulders as rigid as wooden planks, and sinks into the chair across from Zhongli. “There was a murder in this neighborhood. I feared the circumstances of such a gruesome event might have deterred you from coming into work, and I apologize for not reaching out sooner.” 

“It’s not your fault.” He shakes his head, offended that Zhongli would ever take the blame for something he has no control over. “I also heard about it.” 

“I’m just relieved to know that you’re all right.” He lifts the warm cup from the table and brings it to his lips, savoring the taste. “I’d like to treat you to a meal once you come back. Would that be okay?”

“Tomorrow,” he repeats. “I’ll be there tomorrow.” 

“If you’re certain you’ll be okay, then I welcome you back to the company. Your coworkers were wondering where you went. I simply told them you were out of the office doing some work for me, so you needn’t worry about telling them anything.” 

It’s none of their business anyways, he thinks. 

A comfortable silence permeates the air between them, with Zhongli sipping idly at his tea and Xiao concentrating on the table’s surface. He wonders how much Zhongli already knows. It’s one thing to miss a day of work, but it’s another to miss an entire week without calling off. And Xiao can’t exactly phone his boss to explain the situation—can’t explain to Zhongli that he almost strangled his secret because he couldn’t keep it together. He grimaces as memories of that night come back to him in a terrible rush. The smirking face of Ajax. The box cutter in his hand. The way he went limp and cold under him, a lifeless lump of flesh and blood. 

And you almost suffered a similar fate. 

Xiao shakes his head to clear those images and gazes across the table at Zhongli, who’s eyeing him with his usual contemplative look. He doesn’t know anything. Nothing at all. So why won’t he stop looking at him like that?

“You would tell me, wouldn’t you?”

“Tell you what?”

“If you were in need of assistance. If you couldn’t handle anything. You would let me support you when your burdens become too much, wouldn’t you?” Zhongli sets the half-empty cup down, interlacing his hands and waiting patiently for Xiao’s answer. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, “but my burdens are not yours to bear.”

Xiao has since grown immune to such savory offers. As tempting as it is to forfeit his burdens to someone else, he knows it would be selfish. He’s already allowed himself to be greedy when it comes to his secret. Everything else—all of this exhaustion and suffering—is what he must bear in order to live the life of his dreams. He would never wish the same fate upon Zhongli. Even if he’s reborn and is meant to go through the same cycle in his next life, he would still choose the agony. He simply can’t repay Zhongli for all that he’s done, so he’ll continue to withstand the unfair cruelties life often launches at him. 

The afternoon passes far too slowly for Xiao’s liking and he’s relieved when it comes time to send his savior off. 

“Thank you for visiting,” he mumbles, awkwardly staring at his feet. It’s strange to have welcomed another person in this sacred space, where it’s only ever tasted of the sweetness of his secret. A special spot for just you and him. He’s willing to make an exception for Zhongli, as savory flavors are more tolerable than the horrid sourness of the world outside. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Zhongli hesitates at the door, bundled up in his coat and analyzing the cleanliness of Xiao’s sitting room. Then he gazes down at him and asks, “Have you considered looking for a roommate?”

Xiao shakes his head. “I don’t need one. I’m fine on my own.”

“Very well. Although it might do you good to give it some thought. I won’t force it upon you, though. You’re free to make that decision for yourself. Thank you for having me, Xiao. I’ll be on my way now.” 

And with that he departs, leaving Xiao with a lingering sense of savory nostalgia. It only lasts a moment longer before he shuts his front door and makes a direct beeline for his room, where he throws open the door and quickly unlocks the closet. The light has been turned on, revealing the secret within, but he doesn’t care. All that matters is that you’re safe and you listened to him and he wasn’t caught! When he bends down to rouse you from your sleep, your eyes suddenly snap open and you throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him and holding tight. 

“Y-You’re back… Xiao, you’re back!” A joyous laugh spills from your lips. “Thank you. I… I thought you’d leave and then I’d be stuck here and—”

Stiffly, his arms return the embrace and he sits there with a racing heart and an overwhelming taste of pure, untainted sweetness on his tongue. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, and this time he means it, “for hurting you. I’d never hurt you. I’d never leave you. I don’t ever want to hurt you again.”

“I forgive you.” Tears pool in your eyes and he jolts when he hears you sniffle. When he pulls away and stares into your glazed eyes, worry shimmering in his amber hues, you laugh again. The sound is heavenly bliss. He wants to hear it forever. “Sorry, I’m just really happy. There’s so much I’ve wanted to talk to you about and I missed eating with you. I missed watching TV, too. And… And I was really scared.”

“Scared?”

“I thought something bad happened to you while you were locked in here. I thought I’d never see you again. If that happened—” 

“It won’t.”

“Promise?” You raise your pinky.

“I promise.” 

You pull him in for another hug and though his entire body freezes he still accepts it. Behind the two of you, your face grins down at the affectionate display with carefree mirth, unaware of what awaits you in the future. 

With another savory oath sealed, Xiao finds himself inspired to learn a new recipe.

next chapter → [bitter & dry]

[morganayenneferburnham]

Have I Known You 20 Seconds or 20 Years? – Nikolai Lantsov Series

Chapter 1: Devils Roll the Dice, Angels Roll their Eyes

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33661984/chapters/83654680

A very short summary: Y/N has been working with the crows for a few years. Her life feels complete until she meets the insufferable Nikolai Lantsov. She finds herself forced to work with the King of Ravka on one of Kaz Brekker's crazy schemes.

Nikolai Lantsov. King of Ravka. He was privateer extraordinaire Sturmhond?

Word count: 2k

A/N:  So I wrote my first fic! Hopefully at least one person likes it! I just posted the first chapter today. The second one should follow somewhat soon ☺️I’m currently writing the third chapter!

Chapter 1: Devils Roll the Dice, Angels Roll their Eyes

Nikolai Lantsov. King of Ravka. He was privateer extraordinaire Sturmhond?

Y/N couldn’t quite believe it. She had been a fan of him for years. Asking for the latest news on the voyages of the Volkvolny and its captain every chance she got. They were legendary. When Kaz had told her a few days prior that Sturmhond was going to be with them for a job she had barely been able to contain her excitement. Now, she was mortified. How could she work with a king?

Had she not been standing next to Kaz during the meeting she’d never have believed it.

“How long have you known, Kaz? I mean, I know you’ve worked with him before but…” her voice trailed off in a question.

“I figured it out when we first met.” His mind traveled back to that day. Meeting the privateer by the Geldrenner hotel’s baths, just a few years ago. They had been trying to save Kuwei Yul-Bo, a Shu inferni who’d had the misfortune of being the son of the fabrikator who created Jurda Parem, making him the most valuable hostage in the world. They had auctioned him off, faked his death, and gotten revenge on Jan Van Eck all at the same time. “The king of Ravka wouldn’t just let anyone represent his country in important matters. The fact that he always travels with at least one member of the Triumvirate doesn’t help him keep his identity secret either.” He scoffed. “He really should stop doing that.” Kaz sounded almost… annoyed?

“I take it you’ve given him that particular piece of advice and he didn’t listen?” She smirked. “Though, you know, I’m glad Zoya Nazyalenski tagged along. She is even more gorgeous than I thought.”

“He never listens. Almost as stubborn as you.” He huffed. The glare he gave her would’ve been enough to scare most people, however, she was not most people. She considered Kaz family, and she knew that Kaz did too, in his own way. They had both lost siblings to the city after all. She had joined his crew a few months after they had lost Matthias and Nina had gone back to Ravka. He had needed a new corporalnik and she had made fast friends with Inej, Jesper, and Wylan. As much as Kaz had tried to keep the young tailor at arm’s length, she had found a way to worm herself into his cold guarded heart. His look softened before he continued. “You should steer clear of her. She’s just as icy as she appears. Wouldn’t want you to get your heart broken before the job.” That was his way of showing he cared.

“Don’t worry, Kaz, I’m not looking to marry her. Maybe she’d be open to a bit of fun?” She laughed, throwing her long auburn hair over her shoulder, and made her way back to Jesper and Wylan down the corridor.

---

A few days had passed since they’d met with Sturmhond. He and Zoya had temporarily moved into the slat. Kaz had been cooped up in his office, wearing his scheming face most of that time. Everyone could tell Kaz’s plan was going to involve multiple steps and deceptions.

Since they hadn’t been working any other jobs, the crows had been left to their own devices for the first time in months. Kaz occasionally called on them for their expertise, but they had a lot more downtime than they were used to. They had taken advantage of it to get to know their new teammates. Y/N had mostly struck out with Zoya, though she had managed to make her laugh a few times, to everyone’s surprise. Maybe with more time, she’d have a small chance with Zoya? The young grisha had also tried to wrap her head around the identity of her favourite privateer. She now found herself sitting in Kaz’s office, Jesper and Wylan on her right and Sturmhond and Zoya on her left. Kaz looked all business, so serious she feared he’d give himself an aneurysm.

“I need you to tailor him. Once you’re done, you’ll tailor yourself.” Kaz nodded in Sturmhond’s direction sitting behind his cluttered desk, hands resting on his crow’s head cane.

Y/N looked up at Inej who had been sitting at Kaz’s window. “May I ask why? Hasn’t he already been tailored?” She gestured to the privateer before returning her hand to her lap. “He doesn’t look like the king of Ravka.”

Kaz rolled his eyes. “Why must you always question me?” He sighed. “Yes, he has been tailored, nonetheless, he is too easily recognizable as Sturmhond. I need you both to look like rich Kaelish merchants. It shouldn’t be too hard for you?”

“Of course not. You know there’s nothing I can’t do, Brekker.” She replied in Kaelish. She softened her tone before continuing in Kerch. “I’m simply asking you to share your brilliant scheme with us mere mortals” Her voice was laced with sarcasm. Inej stifled a laugh. It looked like the Suli girl couldn’t help but smile at the other’s antics.

Kaz groaned. “Fine, I’ll share my plan for the job. It’d be easier if you just listened. I’ll explain it once so pay attention – Jesper!” Poor Jesper jumped on his chair. He’d been staring at Sturmhond since they’d all entered the office. Y/N couldn’t blame him. The privateer did have an inexplicable charm despite his tailored features.

“Yes, Boss!” Jesper straightened in his chair and sent an apologetic look to Wylan.

“Alright, to pull this one off we’ll need blueprints that can only be found in Gert Van Verent’s safe. He keeps his office under lock and key – ”

“Wait, you want us to break into a councilman’s house, again? Why can’t you do it Kaz? You’re the best at picking locks.”

“Well, if you hadn’t interrupted me” he was glaring daggers at her now, his eyes the hue of bitter coffee “you’d know that two guards are posted outside his office, at all times” he’d emphasized the last part and raised a hand to stop Y/N from interrupting him again “and his windows are protected behind steel bars.” Y/N nodded once slowly indicating she was willing to listen with no more interruptions.

“Van Verent is throwing a party in the hopes of finding his eldest daughter a husband. Being a devout Kerch merchant, he is also using the occasion to find new business ventures. The party is our window of opportunity. That-” he gestured to her and Sturmhond “is where you two come in. Ainsley and Eoin Ó Ceallaigh, newlyweds from the Wandering Isle, looking to extend your exporting business to Kerch. I already secured your invitation” Y/N felt her jaw drop. No sound came out. All she could do was stare at Kaz. He had finally lost it. He wanted her and the king of Ravka to assume false identities and pretend to be married? Dirtyhands had gone mad.

Wylan was the one who voiced her concern. “Kaz? I know Y/N’s a talented tailor and well she is Kaelish so that part’s covered but, well, um, no disrespect Sturm-, Sir? Your Highness? But, um, do you speak Kaelish?”

The king smiled. He looked amused at Wylan’s confusion. He replied in perfect unaccented Kaelish “Call me Nikolai, it will make for less confusing conversation. Of course, I speak Kaelish, I have been educated in 6 languages. I also had a fondness for Kaelish poetry in my youth.”

Everyone seemed to relax at that. However, Y/N could tell she was going to need Jesper’s help to undo the knots in her shoulders later that night. “Kaz? I don’t think I’m that great of an actress… You also haven’t told us how we’re supposed to get the plans if we do get in.”

“Don’t worry darling, I’m sure we’ll manage. I’m talented enough for the both of us” Nikolai winked at her. Nikolai, who just so happened to be the privateer she had admired for years. She felt her cheeks flush. Saints, she thought, this is going to be a nightmare.

“Jesper and Wylan have also been invited to the party thanks to Wylan’s new position on the merchant’s council.” She had never been more grateful to Kaz for overlooking the interruptions. “They’ll cause a distraction, with Nazyalenski’s help, to let you and Nikolai slip past the guards and break into Van Verent’s office.” He stopped and looked at Y/N. “I know you can pick the lock and crack the safe. I trained you myself after all.”

The discussions and planning continued well into the night. Y/N wasn’t convinced it was such a good plan, but everyone else seemed on board so she kept her mouth shut. All she could do now was make sure to memorize all she could before the job. The party was two days away, which didn’t give them much time to learn all they could about their characters. Kaz had instructed Nikolai and Y/N to spend every waking moment working together to make sure they made a believable couple.

Twelve hours in, Y/N was cursing herself for saying she wasn’t a great actress. If she’d only pretended to be confident in her acting abilities, she might have been allowed to take a break from the insufferable king. Well, insufferable might have been a little dramatic but the man loved himself way too much. They had memorized their stories in the first 8 hours and were now being quizzed by Wylan and Jesper while she started tailoring them both, yet the King would not stop flirting with her. He also made sure to touch her every chance he got. A brush of his fingers on her cheek, of his knuckles on hers, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger. She knew it was just harmless fun for him. It was driving her completely mad. She just wanted him to take the job seriously.

“How did he propose?” Wylan asked for the third time in the past two hours.

Y/N sighed and moved her fingers through Nikolai’s hair to darken it. “It was incredibly romantic. He had planned a picnic by the lake where we met.” Her cheeks were already starting to hurt from the plastered smile on her face.

“I had all of her favourite foods, of course” Nikolai interjected, moving to softly caress the girl’s cheek.

Y/N had to restrain herself from slapping his hand away. “Yes, even strawberries, in winter! Can you believe it? Once the sun began to set, he dropped to one knee and pulled the ring from the picnic basket with a bouquet of winter roses. I’m so lucky to have fallen in love with such an attentive and caring man.” She turned to Kaz who had been observing them, leaning against the doorframe, and dropped the smile from her lips. “Was that satisfactory, Boss?”

Kaz shrugged. “It’d be better if you didn’t look like you wanted to stab him every time he touches you.”

Y/N released a breath. “Maybe if you’d let me take a break...” her tone was pleading.

Kaz smiled at that. He was finally wearing her down. Giving her a taste of what she’d put him through the last two years felt like sweet justice to him. He liked the girl well enough, but she had a way of getting on his nerves. He took no pity on her. “You’ll keep going until I actually believe you are in love with him.” He left the room with a pointed look at her.

Zoya released an amused laugh. “I’m just glad Nikolai found someone else to bother for a change.” She smiled smugly at Y/N. “Don’t worry, he’s mostly harmless. Just come find me if he gets too handsy, I’ll put him in his place for you.”

Y/N couldn’t believe it. Zoya had definitely sent her a wink before following behind Kaz. Maybe all her flirting had paid off?

“Sweetheart, I’m hurt, you are taking more interest in my general than in your own handsome husband.” Nikolai’s tone was toeing the line between mock hurt and amused.

She turned back to the three men in front of her. “Jesper, please, just shoot me.”

[wingzemonx]

Flying in the Wind [Genshin Impact] - Chapter 01. Take my sadness with you

As children, Kamisato Ayaka and Kaedehara Kazuha were engaged to be married as adults, and a deep friendship and sweet youthful love blossomed between them. Everyone expected great things from both of them, like the young princess and prince of their respective clans. However, the Kaedehara fell out of favor in the end, Kazuha disappeared from view, and the engagement was undone.

Several years later, and at the height of the Vision Hunt Decree, Ayaka's path suddenly crosses Kazuha's again. And though that wandering swordsman is quite different from the boy who still lives in her memories, the Shirasagi Himegimi quickly realizes that her feelings for him still linger. But after all that the young Kaedehara has lived and seen, what will he feel for her...?

Cover by Chibi Mara: https://www.instagram.com/chibi.mara/

---

Author's Notes:

Hello everyone, I hope you are well. Today, I bring you the first chapter of this new story based on the videogame Genshin Impact, starring my favorite characters from it: Ayaka and Kazuha. This story has been rolling around in my head for a long time, and since I've recently finished the Inazuma arc, I've decided to bring it to life once and for all. It's initially written in Spanish, and I'll simultaneously try to translate it into English. I don't have much experience with this, so bear with me if any translations end up being "weird."

The story will be somewhat of a prequel to the Inazuma arc featured in the game, but with several changes to the events narrated, the backgrounds of various characters, and a few tweaks to their personalities and motivations. The core of everything you know about the game will still be here. Still, it's worth mentioning that I'll be taking a few freedoms to give everything a more narrative feel and, of course, adjust things to what I want to tell. For this reason, perhaps the correct thing would be to say that the story will touch a bit on the Alternate Universe or the Canon Divergent. From my side, I see it more as a reinterpretation of the Inazuma arc and its characters.

As I said before, the story will mainly focus on Ayaka and Kazuha, but it will also star various other Inazuma characters like Thoma, Sara, Ayato, Tomo, and many more. Likewise, several OCs (or Original Characters) will be introduced to support or complement the story.

At the end of each chapter, I will try to add some explanatory notes when I think it is necessary. But if you have any questions or require clarification, you can leave them in the comments.

Without further ado, let's begin...

Chapter 01. Take my sadness with you

Even at eight, Kamisato Ayaka had always distinguished herself as an obedient and helpful girl, who did what the people told her, and never gave any trouble to her parents, her brother, the servants, or anyone. And for this reason, when in that spring afternoon they informed her that her brother would have an important meeting with his advisers, and she should not interrupt them or even approach the room where they were, she did not hesitate to abide by the instruction as it had been given.

However, the young Kamisato's fervent tendency to obey was tested when she began to perceive her name among the discreet whispers of the servants. It was also accompanied by phrases of great weight such as "the future of the clan" or more... striking words such as "engagement" and "marriage."

Although Ayaka was unable to connect how all that related to each other, especially to her, it was still enough to make her childish curiosity vibrate and put aside her duty for the first time in several years.

The little girl walked stealthily through the corridors of the Kamisato Estate in the direction of the room that had they said to her bluntly not to go near. There were no servants or guards on sight, which was helpful. She then stood just outside the wooden door to try to listen to the mysterious conversation that was taking place inside; she practically had her ear glued to it.

The clearest and most recognizable voice to her was that of his older brother, Ayato.

"So, the Kaedehara clan," she heard him mutter with the usual seriousness that he uses at such meetings. "Yes, I think my father spoke to me a little about that family and its outstanding warriors."

"Indeed," Ayaka heard someone else's voice respond with moderate emotion right after, possibly one of her father's old advisers, who were now his brother's. "The swordsmen of the Kaedehara clan are some of the most skilled in all over Inazuma. Having their loyalty solely to the Kamisato clan would be invaluable."

"I understand," Ayato muttered, actually sounding somewhat indifferent to that allegation. "But, is having the loyalty of a clan of swordsmen really that important in a time of peace like the one we live in? Especially if the price is my sister's hand."

"My hand?" Ayaka thought, confused, frowning slightly. What exactly were they talking about? And what did she have to do with all this?

Inside the room, they were first, of course, the young master of the house, Kamisato Ayato, only fifteen years old. Sitting behind him, guarding his rear, was Thoma, his bodyguard and friend of the same age. And in front of them were three men, clearly older than the two young men; they were even older than the former clan leader was.

At that time, Ayato had just recently taken the clan's leadership after his father's death, and little by little, he was soaking up all these matters. But despite his agile mind and sharp intelligence, it was clear that he still had a lot to learn; and at times, his advisors seemed to want to use that to their advantage.

Even so, it was pretty clear to him that engaging her sister to anyone, while she was still so young, was not a decision he should take lightly.

What would his father have decided in his place...?

"If history has shown us anything, it is that peace is fleeting, my lord," another of the councilors added, bowing his head respectfully. "You never know what changes will come tomorrow."

"Not in Shogun Raiden's Eternal Inazuma," Ayato replied quite confidently. "Isn't that what she promised? Perpetual and immovable peace and prosperity?"

"Yes, of course," another of the older men answered, a little hesitantly. "Our beloved and powerful Archon will always be here, taking care of the prosperity of our people even after all of us have departed. But there are small situations far from requiring the intervention or interest of a deity like her. And for these kinds of issues, a man like you must consolidate his position, especially with the other commissioners. Having powerful allies will make you a powerful lord."

"And, of course, this is not just for your benefit, my lord," the third of the men quickly interjected. "You need to think about Lady Ayaka, also. There are many candidates to be her future husband, and we can review the entire list if you wish. But the three of us agree that this young man is undoubtedly the best prospect; politically, economically, and is also the same age and upbringing as her. And we know that you will indeed conclude the same."

The advisors were quite insistent, but Ayato was still quite hesitant.

While his lord was deep in the discussion, Thoma was aware of a slight noise coming from the door behind him. And by focusing his attention on that point, he became aware of the presence of someone on the other side; someone who had apparently been there for a while.

Moving discreetly so as not to attract too much attention from the others in the room (or from the person hidden in the hallway), the blond-haired young man backed toward the door. He got down on his knees right in front of it, opening it just a crack so he could peer out. On the other side, a surprised Ayaka flinched, backing away a bit and raising her sheepish gaze to the boy. He smiled back at her gently.

"It's not suitable for you to spy behind doors, my lady," the servant muttered under his breath, sounding very much like a scolding.

"I'm sorry," Ayaka whispered embarrassedly, lowering her flushed face a little.

"You don't need to apologize to me. But you'd better get out before your brother sees you. Okay?"

Ayaka nodded without looking at him and walked down the hall without complaint, even quickening her pace a bit. Once he was sure that lady Kamisato had moved far enough away, Thoma closed the door again.

"Is everything okay, Thoma?" Ayato muttered at that moment, turning to see the young servant over his shoulder.

"A minor matter, my lord," he answered in a friendly voice, approaching and sitting down behind Ayato again. He nodded, although something in his eyes told him that he did not fully believe those words. But there would be time to explain the situation directly to him when there weren't so many curious ears.

"Could I at least meet the boy before making a decision?" Ayato inquired, turning back to the advisors.

"Of course," one of them exclaimed happily. "In fact, he and his entourage came especially to have an audience with you."

Ayato nodded, apparently pleased.

— — — —

Embarrassed at being caught in her first disobedience in years, Ayaka walked down the hall with her head down. The obedient part of her seemed to be retaking control, berating herself for doing just what they told her not to do. She didn't know if Thoma would end up exposing it to her brother, but being the way he is, Ayato would indeed find it out sooner or later anyway. And when that time came, she would only have to accept the corresponding punishment.

The most conscious part of her had that all clear. However, there was still enough in the little Kamisato that was more interested in what she managed to hear and understand from the conversation...

Were they talking about her? And more importantly: were they talking about who she would marry?

Ayaka had already had a talk about it with her mother a long time ago. Back then, she had told her that when the time came, a suitable person would be chosen to be her life partner and that it would be her duty as a Kamisato to abide by the clan head's wish. Ayaka had understood it (or thought she had). Still, it felt like something quite far away that corresponded to an Ayaka from the future that she would never even meet.

And now it seemed that "Ayaka from the future" was right there, walking with her feet down that corridor.

The sound of several agitated voices nearby caught her attention, forcing her to pause for a moment and lookup. With some surprise, she realized which wing of the house she was in. Up ahead, a few meters from where she was standing, was Kamisato Kayo's room; her mother. Ayaka had headed there without even thinking about it, perhaps guided by the memory of that old conversation.

The bustle that had distracted her had come from that room; apparently, it was the voices of several maids, speaking and giving instructions to each other. And below them, intense and tearing coughs could also be heard.

Ayaka fearfully began to advance towards that door, which was half open at the time. She hadn't been explicitly instructed not to go near that room, as they had that afternoon with the meeting room. However, somehow or other, the youngest Kamisato stayed away from that place consciously or unconsciously.

Peeking her small blue eyes through the door opening, she caught sight of her mother's figure on her bed, leaning to the side coughing as the maids tried to help her. But what perhaps caught the girl's attention the most was a noticeable red stain on the white lining covering her mother's legs.

She was coughing up blood once again...

That left the girl quite impressed, so much so that it was even impossible for her to look away. For this reason, she did not realize when her presence was noticed by the maids, nor that one of them was approaching the door until she was practically standing in front of her, covering the image of her mother with her body.

"Don't worry, lady Ayaka," the older woman murmured, giving her a (forced) smile. "Lady Kayo is fine. The doctor is coming to see her."

She tried to speak kindly and sweetly to her as almost all servants tried to do. However, Ayaka realized that it was not easy for her to stay that way. And before she could question anything, the maid slid the door to the side to close it completely.

Before Ayaka's vision of the interior of the room completely disappeared, she caught a brief glimpse of her mother turning towards her, propped up against her pillow. Her eyes seemed so dull and her face so thin that it was very difficult for Ayaka to recognize her. When the door closed completely, and she couldn't see her anymore, a part of her was even a little grateful...

Ayaka moved faster down the hall, away from her mother's door without looking back.

Her father had passed away not long ago. Her mother was very ill, and her brother now carried the full responsibility of being the clan leader. Ayaka put a lot of effort into her studies and preparation to not be a burden but rather a substantial support for her family. Still, there was really very little she could actually do.

Except engaged to marriage, apparently.

If she weighed it against everything her brother had to do or what her mother was going through at the moment, getting married was a small and easy task. If that was what was required of her, she would do it without protest; obedient and helpful, as she had always been...

As she passed through the corridor next to the house's back garden, something new caught her eye. She turned for a second in that direction, and there, sitting on one of the rocks and surrounded by all the cherry trees, she saw the figure of a strange person and out of place.

It was a boy; or at least from her position, it seemed like that. He had platinum blonde hair so light it almost looked white as snow. He was now with his back to her, sitting on the stone looking up at the sky, or perhaps at the hundreds of pink petals floating in the air above him.

He didn't seem familiar to Ayaka at all. In fact, as far as she knew, the only child at the Kamisato Estate was herself.

Intrigued, she began to approach with a cautious step. That boy didn't seem to notice her presence, or at least he didn't show it. And when she was close enough, Ayaka could hear him repeatedly muttering something under his breath...

"Take my sadness... spring flower... No... Take my sadness with you... No... Sweet spring flower..."

The boy blurted out several similar phrases in that span of time, feeling a bit of dismay in his voice. Ayaka stood right behind him, waiting for him to finish so she wouldn't interrupt him. She had to wait several seconds before the stranger took a few moments of silent reflection, allowing her to speak properly.

"Hello, what are you doing here?"

The boy let out a small groan, which reminded her a little of when her father was thinking deeply about something. Then he looked up at the sky again and answered in a soft and carefree voice:

"I'm trying to make a haiku inspired by this setting and moment, but the proper arrangement of words eludes me."

"Oh... I see," the young Kamisato muttered under her breath. Actually, she was referring to what he was doing there in her yard, but she thought it would be a little impolite of her to contradict him.

The mysterious boy continued to recite his poem a few more times. He repeated the same ideas about flowers flying in the air and taking his sadness with them. However, he couldn't seem to accommodate them in a way that would completely satisfy him.

Ayaka also looked up and saw the petals dancing above them, blown away by the slightest blizzard. And then she felt identified with that idea, about how nice it would be if her worries and fears were blown away by the wind as easily as cherry blossoms.

And then, almost without thinking, the young Kamisato spoke slowly and steadily the words that were going through her head at that moment:

"Fleeting spring flower... you take my sadness with you... flying in the wind..."

The boy turned to see her at that moment, a little surprised apparently. Ayaka could see his white face and his unique reddish eyes until then. It seemed to Ayaka that he might be the same age as her. Also, he was cute...

After a while, the stranger turned up again and softly whispered the exact words Ayaka had spoken, making them sound almost like a beautiful chant.

"I like it," the boy concluded with measured glee.

"Yeah, me too," Ayaka added.

Right after that, she walked over to the same stone the mysterious boy was standing on and allowed herself to sit down next to him.

"Why are you sad?" she asked suddenly, apparently taking his companion by surprise. "You said you would like the wind to take your sadness away. Why are you sad?"

The boy looked at her for a while, perhaps a little hesitant about how to answer that question. In the end, he turned his gaze away, as if embarrassed, and answered in a low voice:

"It's just a poem..."

Ayaka nodded silently, not intending to over-press.

"What's your name?" she asked then, outlining a friendly smile.

The subject change seemed to encourage the stranger to turn back to her.

"I'm Kazuha. And you?"

The young Kamisato opened her mouth, ready to answer him, but someone else beat her to it.

"Ayaka," she heard her brother's voice shout behind them.

Turning on their shoulders, both kids saw the young head of the Kamisato clan approaching down the hall, followed a few steps behind by Thoma and his three advisors. In Ayato Kamisato's eyes, there was some bewilderment at seeing his sister with... that boy. However, he tried to hide it behind one of his almost famous affable smiles.

"Young master Kazuha, I guess," Ayato muttered, lowering his feet from the wooden-floored hallway to the garden lawn. He then proceeded to cautiously approach the two boys. Thoma and the councilors waited in place, but the four of them had their attention focused on what was happening before them.

The boy, introduced as Kazuha, turned on the stone and stood up from it, with outstanding agility, planting his feet firmly on the ground in front of the young commissioner.

"Lord Kamisato," he greeted, leaning his body forward with the appropriate respect that the position of the person in front of him required. "It's an honor to be in your presence, my lord. I, Kaedehara Kazuha, will be your loyal servant if you allow me."

That sentence seemed to Ayato... a bit artificial. But not necessarily negatively or condescendingly, but rather as if the boy had to rehearse it and repeat it so many times, to the point where it totally lost its meaning for him. Ayato sensed that this must be the work of his family. They had put a heavy burden on him to impress the Kamisato leader, despite being so young; similar to Ayaka, in a way.

"What were you doing here?" Ayato asked, now turning to his sister.

"We were doing a haiku, brother," Ayaka replied with total sincerity.

"A haiku?" Ayato asked, a bit surprised and certainly curious. Kazuha nodded, reaffirming what the girl had said. "Would you mind reciting it for me, Lord Kaedehara?"

Kazuha jumped, apparently a bit taken aback by the request. Surely his family hadn't instructed him how to recite poetry in front of the commissioner Yashiro.

He turned briefly to Ayaka, who smiled back at him, nodding her head. Kazuha took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and spoke those words, which came out of his mouth floating on their own in the air.

"Fleeting spring flower... you take my sadness with you... flying in the wind..."

That sounded much more sincere to Ayato. If he had to interpret it in any way, it would be that those were words spoken by the real Kazuha Kaedehara and not the version that his family wanted to present to him.

That brought a small smile to the young commissioner's lips.

"Do you like haikus, lord Kaedehara?"

Kazuha seemed to hesitate again.

"I don't know... I guess I'm not very good at them..."

"Well, the truth is that I'm not either," Ayato answered humorously. "But Ayaka is more versed in that sort of thing, isn't she?"

Ayaka jumped, a little nervous at his sudden mention.

"I... well..." stammered the girl, unable to answer anything clearly.

"Yes, she actually helped me put it into its final shape," Kazuha stated abruptly.

"There it is, I knew it!" Ayato added between laughs.

All this caused the girl's face to turn red with grief without being able to avoid it.

"Well, Ayaka," she heard her brother murmur, actually sounding more like commissioner Yashiro's usual seriousness. "Why don't you take your new friend on a tour of the house?"

"Friend?" Ayaka muttered, a little surprised, almost as if that word was... unknown to her. "Ah, sure... this way, sir... lord... ah..."

Ayaka hesitated a bit on how to refer to that boy. She almost always had to deal with adults, and she rarely interacted with someone her own age. So all of that was kind of new to her.

Her uncertainty was quite evident, so the boy decided to come to her rescue without being asked.

"You can call me Kazuha if you don't mind me calling you Ayaka."

"No!" exclaimed the blue-haired girl, perhaps with more impetus than necessary. "I mean... Yeah, okay... This way, Kazuha."

Ayaka started to walk across the courtyard, and Kazuha followed a few steps behind. As they walked, the girl was seen trying to speak to her visitor between nervous stammers. Still, he seemed somewhat distracted by the leaves floating above them and barely answered her with a word or two. Passing by the three senior councilors, they offered each one a reverence and even spoke a few words of glee. All this under the watchful eye of Kamisato Ayato.

"And what do you think, my lord?" Thoma asked suddenly, approaching him.

"At first glance, I like him," Ayato replied. "But the important thing is if Ayaka likes him. Let them get to know each other a little. And, who knows?; engagement or not, maybe Ayaka can at least make a friend for a change."

Thoma nodded in agreement with his statement.

No one would have imagined at that moment that, some time later, Ayato would regret even allowing his little sister to meet that kid.

Author's Notes:

—For this story, among other things, I will take the freedom of specifying the ages of various characters on my own. I really don't know if there is a reliable or official source for these, but for practical purposes, I decided to adjust them to my interpretation of each character. In this context, Ayaka and Kazuha are considered to be the same age, being around 18 years old at present. Ayato and Thoma, for their part, would be about 24 or 25.

—This first chapter was mainly a flashback, but we will jump ahead ten years later from the next chapter. Still, throughout the following chapters, we will continue to have some other flashbacks of Ayaka and Kazuha as children. Still, mostly we will be in the present.

[ayuuria]

Yashahime Translation: Animage Magazine November 2021 Issue

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The Yashahime’s Halloween Night

The long awaited “Second Chapter” has finally started! First, let’s celebrate Setsuna’s live return and enjoy a Halloween Party♪ Instead of candy, what will the three of them get… …?

Happy Halloween! Tonight, the Yashahimes are showing off costumes that shine each of their personalities. Towa and Setsuna are wearing angel and devil twin outfits and Moroha dawns a magical girl outfit. Voices together, Trick or Treat! However, the one who’s most fired up might be Takechiyo who’s a sucker for modern era candy?

Halloween has a strong impression of being a costume event but in actuality, it’s a festival for the day that the souls of the dead come back to life. In that sense, this might be a timely event for the three girls as well. In episode 24, Setsuna lost her life in the battle with Kirinmaru. However, in episode 25, Towa exterminated the “messengers of the netherworld” gathering around Setsuna, using Tenseiga which she made into a demon sword using all her demonic power. And finally, Moroha mowed down the attacking evil spirits of the rivers and mountains and supported Towa. Their teamwork brought about the miracle of Setsuna’s revival!

What these girls received from Tōtōsai the swordsmith wasn’t Halloween candy to celebrate Setsuna’s revival… but rather, a new weapon and advice for going against Kirinmaru. How will this affect their journey going forward? The future of “The Second Chapter”, which has barely just begun, is something we’re eager to find out!

Character Bios

Towa A half demon girl who considers protecting her younger twin sister, Setsuna, more important than anything else. To save Setsuna, she used up all her demonic power and collapsed.

Setsuna A half demon girl who is Towa’s younger twin sister. Her dreams have been stolen by the Dream Butterfly. She was once defeated and killed by Kirinmaru, but thanks to Towa’s tenacity, she was able to return alive.

Kirara A nekomata demon. She can become large and fly the sky, but it seems that magical girl Moroha will be flying with a broom, so she’s dressed up as a cat familiar on this day!?

Moroha A quarter demon girl who possesses both demonic and spiritual powers. While Tōtōsai was crafting with “Lapis Lazuli Quartz and ash”, she took on the countless evil spirits of the rivers and mountains that came gathering all by herself.

Takechiyo A tanuki demon child who was entrusted to the Corpse Shop by monk Miroku at a young age and has been working there ever since. He loves modern era snacks, especially “Rock-Paper-Scissors Gummies”!

Kirinmaru A greater demon who ruled over the Eastern Lands. Boasting overwhelming strength, he has an air of authority. He periodically slumbers for long periods of time but for what reason… …?

Riku Though he is Kirinmaru’s subordinate, he follows Kirinmaru’s older sister, Zero. When Kirinmaru and Zero parted ways, he sympathized with Zero’s emotions and turned his blade against Kirinmaru.

Rion Kirinmaru’s daughter who, for 600 years, has been sealed within the barrier of Mt. Musubi. While she has youthful features, her circumstances seem to be complicated.

Hisui A member of the demon slayers that Setsuna is a part of. His older twin sisters, the cheerful and open hearted Kin’u and the gentle Gyokuto, frequently mess with him.

Trick or Advice!

The advice Tōtōsai gave to Towa was “Obtain the ‘Kyūyōkon Root’”. Up until now, Towa has fought with the demon sword, Kikujyūmonji, by creating a blade with her own demonic power. However, in order to stand up against Kirinmaru, it’s necessary for her to obtain a suitable weapon. Apparently, ‘Bokusenou’ knows the whereabouts of the Kyūyōkon Root… …?

Trick or Naginata!

Setsuna, who was brought back from death’s abyss, was given the naginata “Yukari no Tachikiri”. It was crafted by Tōtōsai as a naginata suitable for the blood blade she inherited from Sesshōmaru. It is said that “It can cut things that cannot be cut” but will Setsuna be able to master this new weapon?

Trick or Nothing!?

Despite Tōtōsai giving Towa and Setsuna advice and a new weapon respectively, for some reason, he left without giving Moroha anything. We can’t understand. What if the next time they meet, Tōtōsai has a nasty prank coming from Moroha!?

We Want to See This Kind of Halloween Party!

Role of Towa: Matsumoto Sara Role of Setsuna: Komatsu Mikako Role of Moroha: Tadokoro Azusa

Matsumoto: My preference is obvious, but I want Setsuna to cosplay as a female police officer.

Komatsu: A police officer in a miniskirt!?

Matsumoto: Yes, I want to be arrested (laughs)

Tadokoro: It would look good

Komatsu: Then shall we have Towa be a “criminal”? Like in jet black full body tights with the red in her bangs showing a little.

Matsumoto: Then Moroha would wear a bow tie, glasses, and a blue jacket styled like a certain great detective! (translator’s note: She’s referring to Detective Conan/Case Closed)

Tadokoro: (laughs) Moroha’s head ribbon and the great detective’s bow tie are the same color after all!

Matsumoto: Dad’s voice (Inuyasha = Yamaguchi Kappei) would come out of the voice changing bow tie.

Tadokoro: I like that. Moroha seems like she would be able to ride a skateboard too!

Matsumoto: While we’re at it, it makes me want to get Setsuna involved.

Komatsu: Then what about like a suit… … or Teitan High School’s uniform? (translator’s note: It’s a school that appears in Detective Conan/Case Closed)

Matsumoto: I think she’d look good in it for sure! But isn’t it too funny that with “Conan-kun!Moroha” and “Ran-chan!Setsuna”, only Towa is the “criminal”? (laughs)

Komatsu: Then how about Towa as Kaitō Kid? They’d match perfectly since they both (wear) white!

Matsumoto: Ooo! And then the voice would be Moroha’s dad too! (laughs)

Setsuna’s Revival Celebration Roundtable Talk

The Feeling of Relief with Setsuna’s Revival and the Expectations for the Next Development

— “The Second Chapter” has finally started! How did you all feel about the development of episode 25 (episode 1 of “The Second Chapter”)?

Matsumoto: Ever since the final episode of “The First Chapter”, I really wanted to know the continuation. There wasn’t any recording for a while, so I carried on while Setsuna remained dead. It felt like there was a gaping hole in my heart so to speak. When I finally opened the script for “The Second Chapter”, first, I was relieved and then happy at any rate. With Setsuna being revived, I thought about the story moving forward anew and the probability of threads becoming undone. My honest thoughts when I read the script for episode 25 was not only am I really curious, I was fearful on the one hand, but on the other hand I got really excited.

Komatsu: To think Setsuna’s death unfolded at the end of “The First Chapter”. I never thought there would be such a condition that “Even Tenseiga cannot revive someone after a certain amount of time”. I thought “Maybe (Setsuna) won’t be revived in the 1st cour of “The Second Chapter” … …?”. That’s how prepared I was, so getting revived immediately in episode 25 was such a relief! The messengers of the netherworld were really closing in but thanks to Towa, (Setsuna) was revived just in time (laughs).

However, conversely, Setsuna’s revival connects to the further developments of “The Second Chapter”. Currently, there’s still a lot of issues left over from “The First Chapter” and new information will be coming out rapidly, so it made me think that the burden the girls are carrying will be even heavier in “The Second Chapter” than it was in “The First Chapter”. However, I have a lot of expectations that the heavier the weight, the more entertaining the work known as “Hanyō no Yashahime” will be.

Tadokoro: The finale of “The First Chapter” was shocking, but we knew about Tenseiga nonetheless, so I thought there was still hope. Episode 25 went just as I had hoped, so I’m really glad. Towa specifically had to carry the burden on her own, so I’m sure it must’ve been hard, but I was glad that Moroha was of some assistance.

Also, it was very heartening when Tōtōsai made his appearance! It revived my memories of back when I was watching “Inuyasha” like “Since Tōtōsai is here, I’m sure he’ll provide a clue as to how to resolve this issue!”.  While thinking that the two (Towa and Setsuna) are starting anew with a new weapon and hint…… I thought to Tōtōsai “Please grant Moroha a new weapon as well!” since Moroha didn’t get anything (laughs).

— For the recording of episode 25, were you able to do it together?

Matsumoto: We were together. During the interval prior to recording “The Second Chapter”, the three of us had opportunities to meet during live broadcasts and announcement recordings, but it felt like it had been a while since we all gathered and recorded for the main story. On one hand, Towa and Setsuna are serious while Moroha is prattling on the other. This “silence” and “movement” kind of feeling got me hyped like “Yes yes, this is it!”. I was getting fired up (laughs).

Komatsu: With these three, you get a perfect balance of seriousness embedded with comedy.

Tadokoro: But conversely, that was also difficult as Moroha. I had this very serious feeling of “This is frustrating! Setsuna~!” in episode 24, but episode 25 was surprisingly nonchalant (laughs), so I was a little troubled with the balance. I’m sure Moroha believed that “Towa can do it”.  It made me think Moroha was strong.

Matsumoto: I also thought the balance was perfect while recording together. I felt the connection between episode 24 while also having a slight prattling feeling. As a kōhai, it’s probably strange for me to say this but Azusa-san’s Moroha comes in with a thump at a good timing, so recording was fun.

Tadokoro: Thank you! There was a gap after the recording of episode 24, so I worried about whether or not I could properly bring out Moroha’s voice (laughs). It was worth going into the recording after rewatching “The First Chapter” like crazy and affirming everything numerous times.

Komatsu: I get it, it’s like tuning beforehand. I have a “tuning word” for when I reaffirm character voices at home. It varies based on the work but after episode 24 of “The First Chapter”, I chose “Towa” (laughs).

— I like that!

Komatsu: I have an internal rotation setup where I go the recording studio after saying “Towa… …” “Towa!” 10 times or so.

— Starting from “The Second Chapter”, the baton was passed from Director Satō Teruo to Director Hishida Masakazu. Have you ever felt Hishida’s touch, whether it be through discussions with him or directions he’s given you?

Matsumoto: I heard from him a little during the first all-hands greeting. In “The First Chapter”, we didn’t know anything about the future developments, so we recorded while learning everything one episode at a time. However, in “The Second Chapter” he told us the entire flow ahead of time. Including that, he told us “Let’s do our best”. However, I haven’t had a chance to speak with him directly as an individual. I would like to speak with him soon (laughs).

Tadokoro: I’m the same as Matsumoto-san in that I haven’t had a one-on-one conversation with him yet. With the Corona Crisis, we haven’t had a chance to go to dinner as a group…… Because of that, I feel that he is leaving the characters to us.

Komatsu: I’ve worked with Director Hishida before on a different work. Thus, I was completely shocked when he said “I’m the director now” at the recording for episode 25. The storyboard this time is definitely overflowing with Hishida’s touch, so it made me feel nostalgic like “The feel of these expressions and action scenes remind me of when I worked with him last time”.

Last time, the work that put me in Hishida-san’s care was a year long. The role I played was a cool, collected girl just like Setsuna in a way. I felt my involvement in this work right now was like an extension of that time, and I went into the recording of episode 25 feeling it would be great if he thinks “Komatsu Mikako has grown”.

Matsumoto: I see. This is my first time working with Director Hishida and today I happened to go into the control room where the directors were, and Director Hishida and Sound Director Nagura Yasushi were discussing how “It might be more entertaining if we do this?”. As I was listening to them, I was secretly happy like “So this is how “The Second Chapter” is being made”.

Komatsu: That reminds me! At the recording for an episode that’s later down the road, there were times where I was recording with cast members who were playing the roles of demons. There are several demons that appear in that episode, so the demons aside from them had already finished recording. While playing (the recording of) the voices, Hishida-san gave us this absurd direction of “This is what the other demons are like. As such, please make it even more entertaining than this.” (laughs). I thought that attitude of not comprising entertainment was just what you’d expect.

Matsumoto: I remember that! (laughs)

Tadokoro: So something like that happened I see!

—  Tadokoro-san, I take it you were separate.

Tadokoro: Story wise in “The Second Chapter”, Towa, Setsuna, and Moroha are truly moving separately, so after episode 25, there are many occasions where the recording sessions are scattered for the 3 of us.

Komatsu: Moroha has serious scenes going forward after all.

Tadokoro: There are a lot of times where I’m together Fairouz Ai-chan, the role of Takechiyo, and Chafūrin-san, the role of Awa no Hachiemon (aka Hachi). The comedy-esc characters are already gathered so there probably wasn’t a need to add a new comedy competent during our turn (laughs).

One of the Highlights For “The Second Chapter” Is Seeing Kirinmaru Be Pitiable!?

— Now then, please give us some hints of things to take note of after episode 26.

Komatsu: I think the new character, Rion, is a major point. Her backbone is quite complex and has something heartrending. Such a journey will start from there and develop into something even I wouldn’t have predicted. Furthermore, as the story progresses, you will start to see Kirinmaru’s parental side. How to put it...… He’s very overprotective (laughs).

Tadokoro: I was surprised at just how different we see Kirinmaru and how Rion sees Kirinmaru (laughs).

Matsumoto: From the perspective of Fujita Saki-san who plays Rion, I’m sure her way of seeing Kirinmaru is completely different from what our impression of Kirinmaru is. That gap became a little amusing (laughs). The cause of Kirinmaru becoming like this will be depicted later on, so I think you will be able to enjoy it from various viewpoints.

Tadokoro: That’s right, how should I say it rather than an unexpected gap. Through “The Second Chapter” you get a sense that Kirinmaru is actually a very lonely person. In the “The First Chapter”, Kirinmaru had this image of being powerful, scary, intellectual, and mysterious, so to be able to see him in that kind of pitiable state…… (laughs). In a way, rather than saying he’s developed human weakness, he feels more relatable than before.

Komatsu: Also, personally, I would like everyone to pay attention to Hisui. From here on, there will be a segment with Setsuna and Hisui and you will get to see a side that’s rather unexpected. I can’t go into detail, but in this episode, Hisui wears a certain disguise that made me feel the acting was “So good!” without realizing it and I got a sense of what you might expect from having Miroku as a father.

— In the “First Chapter”, I believe the level of attention placed on Towa and Riku’s relationship was high. In terms of Riku in “The Second Chapter”, Matsumoto-san, are there any parts where you felt that your impression of him has changed?

Matsumoto: After entering “The Second Chapter”, the relationship between Zero and the Yashahimes is depicted as completely hostile, and with Riku entering the fray, I think there will be a part of Towa that will be like “I wonder why?”. It’s just that ever since she met Riku, she thinks he’s probably not a bad person. All sorts of impressions will be added onto his base image of “A mysterious person” like “He’s a surprisingly good person” and “But I can’t read him.”. Ultimately, it’s like she’ll comprehend that “I guess there are people like that too” so to speak. That’s why rather than his impression changing, I have a feeling that there’s going to be more “Riku has that kind of side to him too” in “The Second Chapter”.

— Alright then, lastly, a message for our readers please.

Tadokoro: Sound Director Nagura-san has told me “This is a story of family”. I bet that’s probably true for Moroha too. In “The Second Chapter” PV, there was a scene that looked like Moroha was passing by Inuyasha and Kagome, so I’m hoping there will be a segment of them as a family going forward. However, there will probably be all sorts of trials before that (laughs). I also don’t know the details regarding that so by all means, I hope that we can all see through to the end together.

Komatsu: In terms of Setsuna, I get a feeling that her new weapon, “Yukari no Tachikiri” will become an essential point in the story going forward. It was like this as well during “Inuyasha”, but a new weapon can’t be mastered immediately. It will take time before Setsuna is able to wield it in a true sense, so I would like for people to view how Setsuna faces herself and the way she fights as one of the focal points to the story. In addition, comparing the three’s individual journeys in “The Second Chapter” is fun. Please look forward to where their journeys will converge.

Matsumoto: In “The Second Chapter”, the flow will be that each of the individual stories of the three will be established separately. For those who watched “Inuyasha”, there might be moments where you’ll think “The emotions of that person from “Inuyasha” and this person from “Hanyō no Yashahime” overlap each other”. For Towa, “overcoming the divide between demon and human and turning the strong emotions that gush forth into energy” will become a major key going forward. For me personally, there are times where Towa getting toyed with is honestly draining. However, it would be great if people could feel just how beautiful and fleeting humans and demons are. It would make me happy if everyone would journey with Towa and the others until the end.

[une-nuit-pour-se-souvenir]

random thoughts about aegon vi and septa lemore

Apparently, it’s Aegon’s week. i don’t think i ever paticipated in these events for any character or pairing, but @agentrouka-blog​’s theory that septa Lemore is Ashara Dayne and that the baby switch was between Aegon and her rumoured child (instead of random kid) showed up on my dash today.

Lemore being Ashara Dayne and there having been baby switch like theorised would be fantastic, because she’d know a lot of stuff that is otherwise impossible to know. She knows who dishonoured her at Harrenhal (we all know Brandon, not Ned). She knows about Wylla, a wetnurse from the Dayne Household, who Eddard Stark and Edric Dayne both say is Jon’s mother (we all know Jon is Lyanna’s, so this apparent lie version being told by two different people who have nothing to do with one another seems to suggest a combined lie between Ned and the Daynes). She knows about Jon because Ned went to Starfall with him and (if baby switch theory is true), she can confirm Aegon VI is real.

There’s also the suspicious narrative choice of a “Targ” (not even, she has dark hair, not silver hair, even if she has purple eyes) getting with an impetuous Stark at Harrenhal and a secret child never really going anywhere. What’s the point of that besides shading Rhaegar plus Lyanna equals Jon? This I always thought was suspicious, but this theory would *poof* make it make sense.

TYRION III ~ ADWD

This is the chapter where Aegon VI Targaryen is first introduced. The whole chapter is like a “perigrination” to find him. I am of the opinion that Aegon VI is the real thing for a long time now and there’s evidence that might be the case in this very chapter where he’s introduced.

"How fares our lad?" asked Illyrio as the chests were being secured. Tyrion counted six, oaken chests with iron hasps. Duck shifted them easily enough, hoisting them on one shoulder.

This is shortly after the chapter starts. Not only Illyrio asks about Aegon, there’s also the imagery of six chests about. If Aegon is crowned king of Westeros, he’ll be Aegon VI Targaryen.

By imagery, Aegon is real.++

"There is a gift for the boy in one of the chests. Some candied ginger. He was always fond of it." Illyrio sounded oddly sad.

This is often used as a clue that Aegon VI is fake. Illyrio is expressing some sentimental attachment, so there are theories that he could be the father and the mother would be some Valyrian looking wife he has. it has its merits.

On the other hand, Aegon VI is on the run from the crown, hiding under a false identity and dyes his hair another colour, but most importantly in this passage, is Aegon’s fond of a specific sweet that what we would at first mistake for a father for the reasons pointed above gifts him with.

This is 1:1 what’s going on with Sansa, she’s on the run from the crown, hiding under a false identity and dyes her hair another colour, she’s fond of a specific sweet (lemoncakes) and Littlefinger, who’s pretending to be her father and is very... emotionally invested... in her, gifts her with some (well, in parternship with her cousin, but the cousin is another matter).

By parallel, Aegon is real.++

Tyrion craned his head to one side, and saw a boy standing on the roof of a low wooden building, waving a wide-brimmed straw hat. He was a lithe and well-made youth, with a lanky build and a shock of dark blue hair.

Aegon is inrroduced standing above the rest, literally high-standing.

By imagery, Aegon is real.++

An older couple with a Rhoynish cast to their features stood close beside the tiller, whilst a handsome septa in a soft white robe stepped through the cabin door and pushed a lock of dark brown hair from her eyes.

This is actually what I came for, Lemore.

Why a septa would be described as “handsome” when that should have no relevance since she’s supposed to be chaste (I know, it’s Tyrion, but still)? Ashara Dayne is described by many as being beautiful, arrestingly so. If Lemore is Ashara, “handsome” is a good way to describe her beauty still.

Lemore has dark brown hair. Ashara is described as having long dark hair tumbling about her shoulders. More importantly, Lemore's first actions is push her hair from her eyes. Like, pay attention to this woman’s eyes, even though they’re not described ever (not even their colour).

TYRION IV ~ ADWD

Tyrion had drunk himself blind his first night on the Shy Maid. The next day he awoke with dragons fighting in his skull.

So yes, the night after Tyrion meets Aegon and his party for the first time, he dreams of dragons fighting. Take note these are dragons, not a fake dragon in whatever way and a dragon.

By imagery, Aegon is real.++.

The clouds in the sky were aglow: pink and purple, maroon and gold, pearl and saffron. One looked like a dragon. Once a man has seen a dragon in flight, let him stay at home and tend his garden in content, someone had written once, for this wide world has no greater wonder. Tyrion scratched at his scar and tried to recall the author's name. Dragons had been much in his thoughts of late.

One of those clouds looks like a dragon. There’s no dragons with these colours BUT Targs have purple eyes and Viseryion, a dragon I believe is a narrative stand-in for Aegon VI, is described as cream and gold, so one colour here. Honestly, the important here is that Tyrion is associating dragons around Aegon.

By imagery, Aegon is real.++.

"Good morrow, Hugor." Septa Lemore had emerged in her white robes, cinched at the waist with a woven belt of seven colors. Her hair flowed loose about her shoulders. "How did you sleep?"

Holy shit.

“Even after all these years, Ser Barristan could still recall Ashara's smile, the sound of her laughter. He had only to close his eyes to see her, with her long dark hair tumbling about her shoulders and those haunting purple eyes.

"Fitfully, good lady. I dreamed of you again." A waking dream. He could not sleep, so he had eased a hand between his legs and imagined the septa atop him, breasts bouncing.

"A wicked dream, no doubt. You are a wicked man. Will you pray with me and ask forgiveness for your sins?"

Only if we pray in the fashion of the Summer Isles. "No, but do give the Maiden a long, sweet kiss for me."

Laughing, the septa walked to the prow of the boat. It was her custom to bathe in the river every morning.

"Plainly, this boat was not named for you," Tyrion called as she disrobed.

"The Mother and the Father made us in their image, Hugor. We should glory in our bodies, for they are the work of gods."

Yeah, it’s Tyrion, who’d sexualise a rock, but this is a septa who deserves respect. Yet, this is how the writer “paints” the reader’s first interaction with this new character. These are always the most striking moments when establishing a character and sex imagery is what the writer decided to do.

Also Lemore not only knows that Tyrion’s fantasising about having sex with her and doesn’t give a shit, she laughs instead, gets naked to bathe, and doesn’t give a shit if others look at her naked body. This doesn’t feel like a septa. I mean, I remember Mordane and the zealots at King’s Landing who screwed with Cersei. They have nothing on this.

The way she puts why she has no problems with naked bodies and the like also suggest some kind of “free spirit” which goes well with the (disgusting, but there) dornish wanton woman trope and being dishonoured by Brandon at Harrenhal.

Another thing to note, is that Tyrion also clearly says the “Shy Maid” wasn’t named after Lemore, which suggests she’s neither shy nor a maid. This is confirmed by her actions and by...

The dwarf watched Lemore slip into the water. The sight always made him hard. There was something wonderfully wicked about the thought of peeling the septa out of those chaste white robes and spreading her legs. Innocence despoiled, he thought … though Lemore was not near as innocent as she appeared. She had stretch marks on her belly that could only have come from childbirth.

Lemore was pregnant at one point!

When Lemore climbed back onto the deck, Tyrion savored the sight of water trickling between her breasts, her smooth skin glowing golden in the morning light. She was past forty, more handsome than pretty, but still easy on the eye. Being randy is the next best thing to being drunk, he decided. It made him feel as if he was still alive. "Did you see the turtle, Hugor?" the septa asked him, wringing water from her hair. "The big ridgeback?"

This disparity of behaviour between septa Lemore and any other septa in ASOIAF is VERY suspicious.  Note how Lemore has two mysteries about her already, she’s characterised nothing like any septa in ASOIAF (more like the tasteless “dornish wanton woman” sterotype instead) and a mystery child. What’s the point of that, if she’s irrelevant.

Compare how he Yandry and Ysilla couple is treated, where there are no bizarre things taking place that I noticed. Also Yandry and Ysilla are specifically said to be a pair of Dornish orphans. Why is the image of Dornish people here, along with Lemore? Suspicious, suspicious.

Lemore is “past fourty”. The asoiaf wiki lists Ashara Dayne as being born between 260AC and 269AC, which means that she’d be around this age if she had lived.

The imagery of a (false, but still) maidtaking a bath while men watch is the same as Florian and Jonquil song, an event that legend says happened at Maidenpool (close to... yes, that’s right, Harrenhal, where Ashara met Brandon).

"The turtles have their charms, I will allow. Nothing delights me so much as the sight of a nice pair of shapely … shells.

"Septa Lemore laughed. Like everyone else aboard the Shy Maid, she had her secrets. She was welcome to them. I do not want to know her, I only want to fuck her. She knew it too. As she hung her septa's crystal about her neck, to nestle in the cleft between her breasts, she teased him with a smile.

That’s not the behaviour of a septa and note the narrative acknowledgement that Lemore has secrets. She’s also called Lady instead of septa at some point in the narrative.

If this is Ashara, then Brandon met his match at Harrenhal. The waste, I can’t. What a sexy couple.

This chapter also contains Targ history as well as some Dorne (mother Rhoyne and whatnot). It goes well with Aegon is the real deal. But what really cinches it is the ending...

"It was him," cried Yandry. "The Old Man of the River."And why not?

Tyrion grinned. Gods and wonders always appear, to attend the birth of kings.

The Old Man of the River is a lesser god, the son of Mother Rhoyne. These gods are all associated with Dorne.

Aegon is real.++.

Tyrion VI ~ ADWD

"Even the bravest of your forebears kept his Kingsguard close about him in times of peril." Lemore had changed out of her septa's robes into garb more befitting the wife or daughter of a prosperous merchant. Tyrion watched her closely. He had sniffed out the truth beneath the dyed blue hair of Griff and Young Griff easily enough, and Yandry and Ysilla seemed to be no more than they claimed to be, whilst Duck was somewhat less. Lemore, though … Who is she, really? Why is she here? Not for gold, I'd judge. What is this prince to her? Was she ever a true septa?

Who is she, really... indeed... Lemore’s identity clearly is important.

She turned back to Prince Aegon. "You are not the only one who must needs hide."

Why does Lemore need to hide? :)

[tossawary]

Chapter 26 ��� What You Want” of “pride is not the word I’m looking for” quotes and commentary. Not a full list of favorite quotes or full commentary.

Oh, this got so long, though. I was like, “An opportunity to wax poetic about Moshang dynamics and characterization? An opportunity to talk about why my interpretations of Mobei-Jun and Shang Qinghua are Like That? SIGN ME UP.” 

-

【Beginning next mission stage.】

【Death of the Author - Part 2: The Secret Basement of Shang Qinghua.】  

【Mission objective: place the Weeper’s Eye on the pedestal.】

Shang Qinghua slowly sits up on his sofa. He stares at the pop-up window for however long it takes his brain to roll over completely.

“I don’t have a fucking basement?” he says finally.

- 

AN: I have been waiting to use “I don’t have a fucking basement?” for months. Also, it’s been years for him, so Shang Qinghua is a little oblivious, BUT I would like to point readers all the way back to some paragraphs from Chapter 2. 

Excerpt from Chapter 2: “A Horseshoe Nail”:  

Shang Qinghua considers the point loss. What are his excuses character motivations here? Why is his unmerciful System not completely skewering him for this?

He is the servant of a demon lord, Mobei-Jun, the future Northern King, so he has a greater investment than most cultivators in the future of the Demon Realm, so it’s not unreasonable for him to seek out any bastards of Tianlang-Jun without handing the demon baby over to a righteous sect. He’s also a Peak Lord of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, so it’s not unreasonable for him to be interested in any rumors of the whereabouts of Su Xiyan or what happened to her, for political leverage or whatever. The character of Shang Qinghua originally was and still is a spy - on top of being a shameless coward willing to cling to anyone’s thighs and then stab them in the back, in order to stay alive or advance himself.

There are plenty of magical artifacts in this world that might give a power-grubbing weakling like Shang Qinghua an insight into the future. As Peak Lord of An Ding, Shang Qinghua is, in fact, in a pretty good place to get his greedy hands on one of these magical artifacts. Isn’t that what a good spy and overall ambitious snake would do?

 Especially a spy serving a demon lord extremely likely to get fed up with him and kill him at some point? While also serving a righteous cultivation sect extremely likely to execute him for eventually betraying them? Of course Shang Qinghua would obviously want to know how to save his own ass from these ticking time-bombs! And how better to save his own ass than shamelessly clinging to the golden thighs of the protagonist, who will one day conquer every other demon lord and all righteous sects?

Following Luo Binghe means being on the endgame winning team!

Shang Qinghua looks over the pop-up window’s numbers over again, in regards to the loss of points. True, how exactly he tracked down Su Xiyan’s half-demon baby when the Huan Hua Palace Master failed is a bit of a plot-hole, but the rest can be easily explained away with a bit of creativity!

Oh, the rest of the cultivation world didn’t know Su Xiyan was pregnant? Well, Shang Qinghua is a slimy, sneaky spy, who would of course guess that a female cultivator might suddenly disappear like that for months-on-end due to a secret pregnancy! And given that Su Xiyan’s reputation had been linked to a passionately self-destructive Tianlang-Jun… Okay, he can feel the anti-fan rage at that mildly sexist line of thinking, but it stands! It stands!

Now, Shang Qinghua just has to… actually decide… whether or not he wants to take the point loss, in order to save the life of his protagonist son’s adoptive mother, Luo Jiahui. 

Shang Qinghua, my darling fool of an Author God, your System is listening to the things you say and think. 

I have been WORKING here to foreshadow where I’m going with this story. I’m pretty sure that every single endgame plot point has shown up and is now in play in PINTWILF. Shang Qinghua, due to situational awareness, is dealing with too much in-world shit to narrow things down easily, but it’s all there! It will hopefully not seem as though I’m pulling things out of nowhere in the next and final part (Part 4) of this fic. 

-

“This makes me look crazy, bro,” Shang Qinghua  complains to the System. “It really does. I already have to be careful about talking to the secret, world-controlling system that lives in my head and this? This is not making me look any more stable! Where did this come from? Where the fuck did I even get it?! ”

Oh, things are coming together in Shang Qinghua’s head and he doesn’t know if he really likes the picture. On one hand, it’s always nice to actually have someone or something to blame for things beyond the fucking System. On the other hand, he really doesn’t know how the fuck he’s supposed to sleep at night with a full-length, polished silver mirror with an ornate golden frame under his house. 

- 

AN: Shang Qinghua, have you noticed that you’ve stopped losing points for continuity errors and plot holes? Shang Qinghua, you know that the people in your life have noticed that you know too much. They’ve just decided not to question you about it because you always look like you’re going to faint when they do, then you laugh and change the subject. 

But now Shen Qingqiu is on to you and he’s not so easy to shake. 

(Plus Shen Yuan! They’re terriers, SQH!) 

- 

He turns away from the mirror, only for a second System window to pop up in front of him. Only… the design of this one is different. Familiar, though! It takes Shang Qinghua a second to place it as Peerless Cucumber- as Shen Yuan’s Transmigration System.

 【 Users cannot be injured, killed, or trapped inside the looking-glass! The user will not be able to touch or be touched by anything inside the looking-glass! The user will be returned from the looking-glass within thirty minutes, unharmed! A substantial point reward is attached to this bonus mission. 】

“Right,” Shang Qinghua says.

This second pop-up window then shifts colors and is ruthlessly closed before his eyes. Ah, wow, Shang Qinghua kind of feels like he just saw someone get murdered here.

“...How many points?” he asks finally, reluctantly curious.

- 

AN: Having the Systems fight is so much fun. My setup here in PINTWILF has it so that there’s a main Worldbuilding System that does its best to maintain the world, then each transmigrator has their own personal Transmigration System managing their case. 

This is so the Worldbuilding System can maintain the world without the presence of transmigrators, and so the personal Systems can potentially follow their transmigrators into another world. All the Systems interact with each other in order to try to manage things and there are... issues.  

Look, the thing about simulated (or managed) realities for me is... someone coded the thing (or did some equivalent of coding the thing), and whether or not this thing in question is the world or just the System, if there are multiple entities trying to manage things, there’s going to be fuck-ups. You can’t have two cooks in the kitchen without points where the two cooks get in each other’s way at least a little bit. If there are multiple Systems, then you’re going to have friction, and that friction can be funny. 

Inspired by me trying to run two heavy art programs on my computer at once and being like, “Oh, boy, please don’t burst into flames while duking it out in there. Oh, man, you two were NOT made to operate together, huh?” 

- 

He knows he’s right when he walks away from some kind of important-looking procession, stepping into the next room at the same time as someone else, who looks directly at him and doesn’t look away. Shang Qinghua freezes in the doorway and doesn’t let himself stare so much as he can’t stop himself.

 “Oh, no,” Shang Qinghua thinks.

There’s a man standing in front of him, tall and broad-shouldered, with an ageless youth, but a sharp gaze and no youthful roundness to his features. His curly black hair has been cursorily held back from his face by a golden ornament, but is otherwise loose, and he wears his ornate red and black robes well and correctly, but like a man with a hundred more.

The man flicks a strong hand at the doors behind Shang Qinghua, which slam shut with a bang, like he’s done this a thousand times before.

He smiles unkindly. “Shang-Shishu,” he says, like he’s tasting the title, considering tearing it apart with his teeth. “So it's true. How curious.”

There’s no way for Shang Qinghua to count how many times he’s seen this face before, but he’s never seen it like this. The man looks like an emperor. He looks like a god. The red mark of the Heavenly Demons burns like a crown in the middle of his forehead.

Shang Qinghua takes an unwilling step back.

“What are you afraid of?” the original Luo Binghe says, still smiling. “We’re only talking.”

- 

AN: I tried to make this meeting mirror Shang Qinghua and Luo Binghe’s first scene in Part 3 of the fic, in which we finally meet the Luo Binghe (Shang Qinghua’s nephew) who is going to interact with the PIDW plot. 

Excerpt from Chapter 18: “The Inevitable Plot”: 

The restaurant is closed when Shang Qinghua lets himself in. The tables in the dining room are still packed up, lit by dim light through shuttered windows, and the only sign of another person are the chopping sounds coming from the brightness of the kitchen. Shang Qinghua stops in the doorway and lets himself stare.

There’s a young teenage boy standing at the counter, thirteen going on fourteen, still not yet near his adult height (taller than Shang Qinghua, a fact he's still not prepared to face), still carrying a youthful roundness to his features. Shang Qinghua has seen him like this a hundred times before: curly black hair tied back, a kerchief covering his head to keep it out of his eyes, a slightly yellowed matching apron neatly tied just the way his mother taught him, and intent on the work in front of him. His hands are quick, the knife sharp and sure, and the movements of food preparation work slide right into each other like he’s done this a thousand times before.

When did the boy get so big? It didn’t happen all at once; it snuck up on them, hiding dastardly in plain sight! Shang Qinghua remembers when his nephew barely came up to his waist. Fuck, Shang Qinghua remembers when his nephew couldn’t walk. What is this? Who allowed time to pass like this?

Luo Binghe scrapes the chopped vegetables off the board and into the basket beside him, before putting down the knife and turning around. He smiles.

There’s no way for Shang Qinghua to count how many times he’s seen that before.

“Uncle,” the protagonist says fondly. “You’re here.”

- 

“Let’s talk,” Luo Binghe calls out, cajoling now. “Stop running and speak to me and perhaps old hurts can be forgiven. All that condonation and betrayal is so far in the past now. This lord can be merciful, Shang Qinghua. Just speak: how many things have you been hiding...?”

- 

AN: This is PIDW Luo Binghe, by the way. 

Once I realized I was going to have a room full of fortune-telling devices, I was like... “Ooh! Bing-Ge scene! I should have a Bing-Ge scene!” Because, like, that’s the curse of SVSSS transmigrator protagonists who trip into caring about Luo Binghe, baby! 

- 

Shang Qinghua takes some deep breaths to calm his poor, weak heart, and nearly falls to the floor anyway! But he catches himself!

And then a large, cold hand wraps around his arm to steady him. It’s the cold that keeps him from lashing out and probably breaking his own hand. Instead, he looks up, heart still pounding in his ears, into the frowning face of Mobei-Jun.

“Oh, you have the worst timing,” Shang Qinghua breathes.

Mobei-Jun’s expression twitches and he lets go.

“No!” Shang Qinghua chases the hand with his own, catching it before the man can get too far. “My king, I’m so glad to see you! Thank you for finally coming! I have so much to say,” he says quickly. “I-”

Before he realizes that he’s essentially holding Mobei-Jun’s hand for no reason now - ah, now that’s something he never would have dared to do like twenty years ago - and carefully drops it. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm the panic still racing through his veins. And then promptly realizes that Mobei-Jun is here. The demon lord is here in this secret basement.

- 

AN: Moshang in this fic is... hmmm... a little weird sometimes, because a lot of it has been happening in the background. A lot of it has been unspoken until Shang Qinghua’s breakdown and until now. 

Shang Qinghua isn’t actually as scared of Mobei-Jun in this fic as he is in SVSSS, and I hope that comes across. When he had his breakdown, part of it was fear, but a large part of it was also actually anger. Shang Qinghua was afraid of how the System had changed his life, but he was also angry about this loss of control. Yes, he was terrified of Mobei-Jun because he didn’t know if it was still his Mobei-Jun, which brought lots of old memories and old anger to the surface, in which Shang Qinghua was kind of like, “How dare you think you get to freely touch me after the things you did and never apologized for?” 

BUT the status quo in this world, before the World Update, is one in which Mobei-Jun touches Shang Qinghua’s hip without SQH flinching. It’s one in which SQH and MBJ drink and relax together. It’s one in which SQH isn’t afraid to reach out and grab MBJ’s hand, because he misses MBJ. 

They’re so close, they just need to actually talk it out. 

- 

Shang Qinghua glances at the ladder and the open hole in the floor. “Ah, my king, did you… climb down here looking for me?”

“Yes,” Mobei-Jun answers, looking around with sharp eyes. He doesn’t seem to be very impressed with what he’s seeing. “...What is this place?”

“My, ah, my basement,” Shang Qinghua answers, leaving out the part where he didn’t even know he had one until about an hour ago. The System is determined to make him look like a bit of a madman, huh? “It’s just… just some artifacts and tools. I don’t… I don’t really come down here a lot…”

Mobei-Jun finishes studying the room, then stares at him again, his gaze more piercing than ever.

“The future concerns you this much?” he says.

Shang Qinghua is totally prepared to deny everything, but the phrasing of that cuts off every story he might try to tell. He glances around the room, full of these broken, desperate, stolen things. It’s… reflecting.

“...Yes,” he admits, hoarsely. Then coughs. “I… my king, we should… talk.”

“Yes,” Mobei-Jun agrees.

“But, ah, not here? I don’t… like it here.”

“Yes.”

-

AN: Mobei-Jun is one of the people who has noticed that Shang Qinghua knows more than he should. And now, thanks to this secret basement, Mobei-Jun has an explanation for why Shang Qinghua knows more than he should! 

If you don’t know about the System element, then this basement is actually pretty in-character for the new Shang Qinghua of PINTWILF. 

He is so scared of the future. He’s invested in the story now. 

- 

Shang Qinghua isn’t surprised at all when the special item speaks again as soon as it’s back in his hand.

Why would it shut up now, after all?

 “He has no name but the position he has been promised to, which he may not live to see,” the Weeper’s Eye says, which pulls Shang Qinghua’s gaze back to the demon lord waiting for him. “His father uses him as a tool. His mother is long departed. His uncle wants him dead. He has long known that these broken promises cannot be undone… but he knows new promises may yet be made.”

Mobei-Jun is frowning at the crystal eye in Shang Qinghua’s hand, looking between it and Shang Qinghua’s own eyes.

He’s not dressed-up the same way he was the last time Shang Qinghua saw him - no especially fancy robes or ornaments or jewelry. He looks like himself this time.  

 “If these ones are not kept, there will be nothing for the nameless man who will be king.”

Shang Qinghua doesn’t move.

- 

AN: I mentioned exploring Mobei-Jun not having a name in the commentary on the previous chapter. I guess that’s my take on PIDW Mobei-Jun... that the man doesn’t really have anything outside of his position. He’s a king, in service to a tyrant, and he’s never going to let anyone in. He’s just... cold... the whole way through. PIDW Mobei-Jun has an icy throne and nothing else. 

PINTWILF (and SVSSS) Mobei-Jun has the Airplane version of Shang Qinghua. When Airplane saved MBJ’s life, the System wasn’t making him do it, he made that choice for himself. The System was willing to let MBJ die (and, in my headcanon, be replaced by some ice demon cousin or LGJ). So, MBJ turns around and chooses Shang Qinghua for himself. 

Shang Qinghua was like, “No! This character can’t be replaced! You can’t just dress someone else up as Mobei-Jun! You can’t just let the character die! It has to be this man in that role! No one else!” 

When Mobei-Jun is coming to talk to Shang Qinghua in this fic, in this moment, he is making this choice for himself, the nameless man who has been promised a position he might not live to see. That’s what the Weeper’s Eye is getting at. If Shang Qinghua doesn’t want to hear the promises Mobei-Jun is will to make him, there might as well not be anything in Mobei-Jun’s future to make him an individual, more than a cold figure acting out a part. 

- 

“...Shang Qinghua,” Mobei-Jun says finally. “I will not hurt you.”

Shang Qinghua’s gaze snaps from the crystal eye in his hand, back to the demon lord standing by the exit to this secret basement.

“We will speak,” Mobei-Jun says solemnly, slowly, like someone repeating the lines of a script. “I wish to be understood by you. I have not known how. Yet I must try now… in my own words… and you must listen.”

Shang Qinghua swallows.

The anger - the frustration - breaking through at the end there sounds more like the man he knows. He’s pretty sure that’s meant to be a request, but it sounds like an order.

-

AN: After their last conversation, Mobei-Jun had a lot of soul-searching to do, and one of the conclusions he came to is that he can’t take anything for granted. He has to made explicitly clear, using words, which is apparently what matters with humans and with this human in particular, everything he feels. He can’t take the risk of continuing to hurt Shang Qinghua by letting the man think that he doesn’t regret hurting him or may hurt him again someday. 

-

He puts the Weeper’s Eye down.

He’s really sick of this thing. He doesn't want to carry it around all the time.

It only tells him things he knows, anyway.

- 

AN: We’ll get into the Weeper’s Eye in future chapters, but it’s... it’s not really a mind-reading device. It kind of is. It is a little bit. But part of the reason it’s so informative here is that Shang Qinghua is holding it and Shang Qinghua actually knows a lot about his characters and the people in his life. 

Even the original characters, like Fanli, he knows well. She’s his family. He’s privy to Fanli’s problems through Jiahui and Liu Qingge if nothing else. 

With Shen Yuan, he doesn’t know the kid well yet, but his fellow transmigrator isn’t that difficult to read and he’s been where Shen Yuan is. 

Shang Qinghua putting the Weeper’s Eye down here is a show of trust of sorts. It’s a way of telling himself to get out of his own head, away from character roles and exaggerated panic, and put himself in the moment with someone he knows and... well... trusts and wants to trust even more. 

- 

Shang Qinghua follows Mobei-Jun out of the basement, removing the spiritual seal from the wall, which makes the creepy basement entrance disappear, then replacing the flower that covered it. He hesitantly follows the demon lord back to the main room of his Leisure House. He has no idea how to stand, suddenly, or where to stand.

Mobei-Jun looks very determined.

“So, ah, should we… sit?”

“No,” Mobei-Jun replies, then abruptly says, “Shang Qinghua, you do not have to fear me. I do not wish to cause you any pain. Now or in the future.”

Shang Qinghua stares, wide-eyed.

That’s not… something he ever expected to hear explicitly.

Good! It's good, though! Very good.

It's great, really.

“...Thank you,” he says, stunned. “I don’t want to cause you pain either?”

“You have shown as much. Many times.”

This is probably not the time for an “Yes, I did tell you so” in any form!

Instead, trying to remember all the speeches he prepared while waiting, Shang Qinghua says, “You have too! In your own way! I just… my king, last time you visited was a… it was a very bad day for me. I apologize for my behavior! I was speaking from a place of-”

“Fear,” Mobei-Jun interrupts darkly. “Well-deserved.”

“Ah, well…”

“You believed that I would hurt you, in your state,” Mobei-Jun says.

“I was… it was very a bad and confused state, my king.”

“...You do not trust me.”

Shang Qinghua’s voice dries up on him. He wouldn’t put it that way, exactly! That sounds pretty terrible when said in such a blunt way. They’ve moved past that, haven’t they? It’s more that he trusts different people with different things! He trusts Luo Jiahui to be Luo Jiahui, and Liu Qingge to be Liu Qingge, and Mobei-Jun… to be Mobei-Jun.

- 

AN: Shang Qinghua and Mobei-Jun got really far without explicitly talking about things, but at some point that stopped cutting it. 

- 

“I have hurt you before,” Mobei-Jun says, looking at him directly. “From a place of fear… of anger… of… misunderstanding. I am… sorry for this. I will not do so again. I was wrong to treat you in such a way.”

Shang Qinghua takes in a deep breath… and out again.

Fuck, it feels like his eyes are burning.

“You have my respect,” Mobei-Jun says quietly, urgently, not letting up on getting all of these words out into the open. “You have my regard. You have my trust. Yet I have not shown this in a way that you have understood, so you could not share this. I have demanded your loyalty without being deserving of it.”

“My king,” Shang Qinghua protests, taking a step forward. “I was- I should have said-”

“You did. Many times. In many ways. I did not understand.”

“I wasn’t very clear either-”

“It was my responsibility to be clear. I must be clear now.”

“You’re being very clear now,” Shang Qinghua agrees quickly. If things get any clearer here, if any more of the things they’ve left unspoken get said, his heart won’t be able to take it. “Thank you, my king. It means- thank you."

Mobei-Jun nods. He looks relieved.

-

AN: I wanted to write a version of Moshang that felt... a little more mature? Shang Qinghua has developed a lot in this fic. He has grown as a person. And Mobei-Jun has seen this growth over the years. 

Mobei-Jun has also been able to see into this Shang Qinghua in a way that wasn’t available in SVSSS canon. I think that SVSSS Shang Qinghua was locked the fuck down. I think he was almost completely inaccessible and offered very, very few openings for connection. 

But in this universe, Mobei-Jun actually knows a lot more about Shang Qinghua. He knows what motivates Shang Qinghua. He knows that Shang Qinghua is a doting uncle and a doting older brother. He knows that Shang Qinghua has come to care for his sect. He knows that Shang Qinghua is intelligent and resourceful and funny. They drink together and talk politics! Mobei-Jun knows that Shang Qinghua is loyal and tired and trustworthy. 

So... there was an opening here that didn’t exist in SVSSS canon. 

And Mobei-Jun took it. 

- 

Shang Qinghua knows that cultural differences are a hell of a thing here, but everything being understandable in hindsight didn't make it not fucking hurt. It still hurts, even finally having the apology he never thought he'd get.

"...We’ve been pretty bad at understanding each other, huh?”

“It has often seemed as though we were not meant to meet,” the demon lord says softly.

Shang Qinghua, who can't imagine getting through his transmigration experience without meeting this man, thinks over all the unknowing irony in that statement.

"...Maybe."

“The differences are… significant.”

Shang Qinghua laughs, almost disbelieving. “That’s a word for it!”

"But not impassable."

"Ah… I… hope not."

- 

AN: I’ll probably make a separate post for this, but I love Moshang transmigrator reveals. Bingqiu transmigrator reveals are mostly about the Abyss, which is great, because that needs clearing up. MOSHANG transmigrator reveals are like, “My weak human husband is a god???” 

Also love it when MBJ is like, “Yes, this makes sense.” 

- 

“I have never known what you have wanted from me,” Mobei-Jun says next, like a confession. “Your life, you have said, time and time again. Though I am only alive by your grace. You demand none of what you deserve of me.”

“...I don’t think ‘deserve’ is a good word for this,” Shang Qinghua says, which probably isn’t the right thing to say, but he’s really too stunned to come up with anything better. He really didn’t prepare for the right conversation here. “Aha, sorry, my king. It’s just… I don’t think I like to think about it in terms of ‘owing’ anymore. Between us. At least… not like some sort of strict balance? I do something nice for you, you owe me. You do something bad to me, I get to hurt you. Not… not like that.”

Mobei-Jun thinks about it.

“Sorry, I don’t really know what I’m saying-”

“You are deserving of better than what I have given you,” Mobei-Jun insists, determinedly. “I do not understand you. I have never understood you.”

Shang Qinghua feels the same way.

“But I would like to,” Mobei-Jun says next. “I would if you would allow it.”

- 

AN: Mobei-Jun is only alive because Shang Qinghua saved him and he knows it! And Shang Qinghua has never made the demands he should have made, having that kind of leverage over Mobei-Jun! 

I’ve always wondered if this is deeply romantic by demon standards. Like, not inherently romantic. But I would bet that Mobei-Jun really likes the idea of a relationship where no one is keeping score... no one is granting favors to use like a leash of obligation... no one owes the other things they don’t want to give. I would bet that Mobei-Jun really, really likes the idea of a relationship where affection is freely given because the people in it want to give it. 

He does feel as though he owes Shang Qinghua, but I think Mobei-Jun likes the idea that his favor is his to give just because he wants to give it. 

-

Mobei-Jun lifts a hand, slowly, and holds it out.

Shang Qinghua thinks about it.

He thinks about it again.

He reaches back and puts his hand in Mobei-Jun’s own, which is as cool to the touch as always, and moves over his skin carefully. His hold is so light that Shang Qinghua could break it without any issue at all.

They stay there, like that, looking at each other.

Looking at their hands, holding without hurting, after everything. It's such a small gesture.

It feels kind of like a miracle.

-

AN: I am... a huge fucking sucker for Mobei-Jun holding Shang Qinghua waaaaay too lightly because he won’t risk hurting Shang Qinghua again. Like, this man is going to take it from the top. No more assumptions. 

- 

“What do you want, Shang Qinghua?” Mobei-Jun says, voice turning up at the end, in the closest thing that the man might ever come to helplessness. “What do you want from this?”

“I…” Shang Qinghua wipes at his burning eyes with his free hand. This is kind of pitiful. “Fuck.”

Mobei-Jun lifts his free hand and uses his own sleeve to wipe at Shang Qinghua’s tears, like his robes aren’t important to him at all. “Ask,” the man says, in the tone of a promise. “You do not have to fear the future. Anything I have to give is yours.”

Shang Qinghua gives up on trying to speak and just moves forward to bury his face in Mobei-Jun’s chest. Fuck it. The demon lord who was supposed to kill his character lets him do it. Mobei-Jun holds on to him, arms heavy but still so careful, the man’s chest moving in a sigh that sounds like relief.

This really was too many unspoken things to finally say aloud all at once.

- 

AN: So, yeah! That’s what I’m been building up to with the Jiahui/Qingge marriage and the Qijiu fights and makeup, getting Shang Qinghua to think about what he wants from his relationship with Mobei-Jun. Luo Jiahui and Shen Qingqiu have basically been throwing the question at him repeatedly: “What do you want from this life, Shang Qinghua?” 

Because it can’t all be plot! You’ve taken your family for yourself, but you can have more than that! You’ve made so many choices already... you can take this last step and make this choice too. Let Mobei-Jun in. 

A lot of Moshang plots end up being “Shang Qinghua’s inability to communicate versus Mobei-Jun’s inability to communicate”. Which is great! That’s Moshang! And some external issue (a rival demon lord, Linguang-Jun, etc.) will end up being the secondary plot which acts as a scenario pusher for the primary plot of the Moshang relationship. Again, great stuff! 

But since the romance isn’t the focus of this fic, I decided it would be fun to have a more “Shang Qinghua and Mobei-Jun versus the problem” take. (Which also shows up in lots of Moshang fics! Definitely not exclusive to this fic at all!) I’m looking forward to having Shang Qinghua and Mobei-Jun actually try and tackle problems together, as a couple, inside the main “Family of Choice” plot. 

Which isn’t to say that Moshang have totally worked out their relationship here. They have only just gotten together. Mobei-Jun still has issues. Shang Qinghua still has many issues. They’ve got a lot to work out together. They’ve never been in a relationship like this before and there’s a lot of people out there who would object to their relationship! Their relationship is going to continue to grow as the fic continues. They’re going to have a few bumps in the road. 

But I really like the idea of Mobei-Jun being Shang Qinghua’s rock in this fic. This man has been so stressed. He needs a hug from his ice demon boyfriend who can soothe headaches with a hand. 

-

When Shang Qinghua feels like he has himself more under control, he draws back just far enough to say, “My king, will you kiss me?”

Mobei-Jun’s expression is already soft, at least by his standards. His gaze turns hooded before he leans down as Shang Qinghua leans up. Shang Qinghua takes the man’s face between his hands to kiss him. It feels nice, if uncertain, with the hunger of something a long time coming at the end of it. There's years worth of wanting in this.

It has been so fucking long since Shang Qinghua kissed anyone.

He breaks the kiss and has to stifle laughter, clinging to the front of Mobei-Jun’s robes, which the man never closes properly, so now Shang Qinghua is never going to be able to not thinking about touching it. It’s a very nice chest to touch. He knew it would be.

Mobei-Jun’s brow furrows slightly, his hands staying on Shang Qinghua’s hips.

“What?”

Ah, sorry! Sorry, my king! It’s just- this is such a ridiculous detail to get stuck on, but your lips are kind of cold? I’ve, ah, I’ve always kind of wondered,” Shang Qinghua confesses quietly, without really meaning to actually say it. Holy shit, he’s going to blame saying something like this after that on the fact that he’s had a very long and very weird day. “Sorry. I'm really tired. It's fine. It's good.”

Mobei-Jun snorts and kisses him again, as if to say, “Deal with it.”

- 

AN: Cute! Mobei-Jun likes it when Shang Qinghua laughs. I stand by this.

[talesmaniac89]

Choices - The Beginning

Pairing: Dean x Reader OR Sam x Reader

Summary: Choices is an interactive Supernatural choose your own adventure story where your choices determine the outcome.  You go on a hunt with the two Winchester brothers, one of whom you love. You decide who your Winchester is and what happens along the way. Each part is a fully independently written section and no parts are copies of others, so the story can be read a full 8 different ways with 15 parts in total and 8 endings!

Total word count: 45k+ words (over 15 parts)

Triggers: Dark, torture, reader death, angst, loss, pain, blood, serious injuries, heartbreak, implied possible major character death, fear of abandonment, loneliness, hostage situation, gore (series levels blood, torture and fatal injuries)

Triggers depend on your choices, so if you are easily upset by any of the above please proceed with caution.

[Your Story Starts Here] - You’ll be asked to make your first choice at the bottom of this chapter.

Y/N = Your Name

---

“(Y/N)! Get a move on!” 

Dean’s deep voice echoed down the hallway just as you shouldered your duffle bag with a roll of your eyes. It hadn't even been 10 minutes since the call for help had come in. If it wasn’t for the fact that you’d been busy cleaning your guns when the call came, you would’ve already been out there in the library with them, ready to go. It wasn’t as if you’d been standing around fussing over which ratty t-shirt to pack for an hour.

“On my way!” You shouted back, grimacing as the heightened volume easily erased the annoyance you’d wanted to subtly lace each word with. Throwing another quick look around your room in the Men of Letters bunker you sighed at the mess. 

T-shirts and jeans were everywhere, as you’d pulled out everything to quickly stuff a few items in your overnight bag just in case the hunt took longer than planned. Not to mention the cleaning supplies you’d left abandoned on the floor from where you’d been sitting cross-legged polishing your favourite revolver.

It would all have to wait till you got back. Even though you knew you’d regret it once you made it back, bruised and stiff from the fight and the subsequent ride back in the Impala. Having to clean your room before you could fall into your bed feeling sorry for your aching bones was never fun. 

Yet, sticking to a decision you knew you’d come to regret; you got a move on before Dean could call out for you again. Swiping up your phone, you hurried out into the hallway and nearly ran straight into Sam as he came barrelling out of his own room. 

“Dean?” He asked, his hazel eyes meeting yours with a raised eyebrow a clear sign that your annoyance at being rushed was showing on your features. Though it didn’t matter, since the youngest Winchester clearly shared your irritation as he threw you a glance, underscored by an eye roll that put yours to shame.

“Yeah… Dean,” You said with a sigh as you lifted the straps of the duffle bag off of your shoulder. Attempting to bring some blood flow back into your arm from the heavy load of guns, knives, holy water and other goodies. As well as the clothes thrown in for good measure. 

“Let’s not keep our oh so righteous leader waiting then. C’mon (Y/N),” Sam smirked, teasing a small smile out of you as well. Before quickly reaching down and effortlessly snatching your duffle bag from your hands and hurrying down the hallway. If it wasn’t for your relief of having the bag off of your shoulders you would have stopped him. Reminded him that you could easily kick his ass if you went one on one. 

But, you knew that there were no hidden meanings in Sam’s gesture. He was just trying to be helpful.

You’d realised quite quickly after getting to know him that one of the things the youngest Winchester feared more than anything else was being abandoned; seen as useless or a burden and left standing in the dust. The shadows of his childhood fears were still clinging to him, little tendrils that he’d never managed to shake. Old fears from a youth spent in constant worry that his father would just drop him off somewhere and drive off without ever coming back. That, coupled with the many lost friends, lovers and hunters that had left him, willingly or unwillingly, made him try twice as hard at being of use to those he loved, every step of the way. From small kind gestures, like carrying your bag, to willingly offering himself up as a sacrifice to the big baddies of the world, in hopes of rescuing Dean, Cas, and now you.

Rolling your shoulders to shake off the rest of the strain from the bag, you pocketed your phone before hurrying after Sam down the hallway. No point in being grumpy when there were bad guys to gank. And neither of the two men in your life deserved your grumbled dissatisfaction. Both the bag and Dean’s insistence of getting on the road as fast as possible were just their own little ways of showing they cared. 

Sam was just trying to be helpful and Dean was always worried about losing another civilian by being just a second too late. And you loved them both for it. After all, one was your best friend in the whole world, while the other already secretly had your heart. Though you’d never found the courage to tell him you slipped it into his hands when he wasn’t looking. 

“(Y/N)!” Dean’s voice echoed down the hallway, pulling you out of your thoughts and back into your grumbled exasperation aimed at the oldest hunter. Ok… So maybe you’d allow yourself to be a tiny big grumpy until there were baddies in front of you to take it out on.

“I said I’m on my way!” You called back in a huff. Casting a quick glance at your closed bedroom door before quickly running to join the boys. Hopefully the bruises yet to come from the hunt wouldn’t make you regret your decision to leave the mess behind.

---

“So where are we headed, exactly?” You asked after about an hour’s drive and a quick case briefing from Dean. Leaning between the seats from the backseat of the Impala in a way that had Sam throwing worried glances your way for your lax seat-belt etiquette. 

“There’s a farmhouse, just 40 clicks away now, shouldn’t take long,” Dean’s voice had taken on that steely hardness it got whenever things got serious. And though the case was nothing out of the ordinary for the Winchesters and you, there had already been two reported deaths.

Which also meant that Dean had already added their names and faces to his list of sins to carry. People he could have saved if he could have somehow seen into the future. The oldest Winchester always etched the names of every lost soul into his big heart, burying them there among the many ‘should haves’ and ‘what ifs’ that weighed his broad shoulders down. He was a good leader, and a great hunter, but sometimes he cared a little too deeply. Leaving him hurt no matter how well a hunt went.

“... And put on your seatbelt (Y/N),” 

“Yeah, yeah,” 

… And sometimes he treated you like a little kid. The thought teased a wry sigh out of you. Quickly reaching out, you turned up the volume of the Led Zeppelin song that was playing, a small act of rebellion, before leaning back in your seat. Smiling innocently as Dean’s green eyes met yours in the rear-view mirror, his attempt at exasperation softened by the way his eyes crinkled in a smile. 

No matter how hard as steel the hunter tried to act, he always had a soft spot for Sam and you. To Dean, his feelings were cracks in his armour. They were the blind spots his father had told him about when teaching him to ‘always watch his back’. Yet, the man was more deserving of a family, of love, than anyone else you knew. And so, Sammy and you watched his back instead. Where he watched yours. Both of you determined for the older hunter to see you as strengths, not weaknesses.

Soldiers, shoulder by shoulder.

And, though Dean would constantly complain... You knew he was secretly happy the two of you stuck around; silently terrified of the loneliness he always tried to force onto himself by pushing others away. No matter how loudly his father’s words echoed in his mind and tried to tell him he was leaving himself vulnerable.

Letting Black Dog be your soundtrack, you watched the two most important people in your world from the backseat of the Impala. The Winchester brothers; both carrying scars from the family business they’d fallen into after their mother’s death. Each fearing abandonment and hurt in their own bruised and broken way. Both forced to give up any dream of apple pie to make the world a better place. Children turned soldiers turned martyrs, shaped into a sacrifice by a world that turned a blind eye to their suffering. Which was why you had promised yourself that you would try your damndest to give them a home, and that you would never run away from your life with them. 

Even if a certain hunter sometimes made that a hard promise to keep, as every friendly jab broke your heart at the clearly unrequited love you harboured. 

You sighed internally as you cast a careful glance in the direction of the man you’d come to love as more than just a hunting buddy or a friend, more than anything really, over the last year and a half of hunting with him. He’d probably be heartbroken to know he was hurting you, which was why you could never tell him how you felt. How your heart and body reacted, as if by reflex, whenever he was around.

Anything he did, from the smallest smile to the feel of his eyes on you, set your body on fire. In a manner not so different to what Robert Plant was promising he’d do to you as Black Dog blared over the Impala’s speaker system. And fuck if you didn’t want to echo the great artist himself and ask the man in front of you to do some not so innocent things to you whenever your eyes strayed to lips that you’d rather have on you than rambling on as they currently were about the case.

“Right… So, to make sure we’re ready…” 

---

Make your choice below to move the story along:

The man you love is speaking - who is he?

[Dean Winchester] or [Sam Winchester]

---

Tags:

Dean Winchester Stories: @ria132love​ @woodworthti666​ @defenderrosetyler​  @akshi8278​

Forever Tags: @deanwanddamons​ @winchest09​ @hobby27​  @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @sea040561​ 

Choices Tags: @deanwinchesterswitch​  @maddiepants​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @foxyjwls007​ @mandalou29​ @tiki-tay​ @inked-poet​ @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid​ @rhysmybaby​ @heyyy-hey-babyyy​ @mellilla-rose​ @queenoftheunderdark​ @imaginationisgrowth​​ @almostelegantfire​ @alwaysdreamingforthebest​​ @mydelusionalworld-7​​ @fatalcrossbow​​ @backseat-of-deans-67chevy​​ @wearesuchstuff1​​ @amotleyworld​​ @impala-20​​ @sandlee44​​ @ksgeekgirl​​ @cheesewaster​​ @aeo10fan​​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​​ @idabbleincrazy​​  @writingthingsisdifficult​​ @ellewritesfix05​​ @justanotherwinchester​​ @starks-hero​​ @storiesfromtheimpala​​ @iluvsumbucky​​ @ellen-reincarnated1967​​ @katehuntington​​​  

Tags didn’t work for the following names: @lottieellz101  @lovedrarrypizzasleep   @katherineisagubler  @m2ello   @guesswhosback129  @deepsleepnat    I’ve sent you a message to notify you instead!   @ireallyhaveaproblem unfortunately I can’t send you a message either.

---

[pitviperofdoom]

so do you have any good tma/jonmartin fic recs because I need something to read while I wait for jon's moving castle and your swap au to update 👀

Oh hey, I haven’t done a proper fic rec list for TMA. So! Here goes.

First off, literally anything by @cirrus-grey. There’s a lot there, too varied for me to go into detail about, and it’s all fantastic, so just. Browse. I guarantee you’ll find lots of stuff to like. Special mentions go to Yesterday Is Here, a very lighthearted time travel fix-it fic, and A Matter of Diplomacy, a still-ongoing fantasy AU with Jon as a powerful Witch Lord and Martin as an inexperienced nobleman sent to ask him for aid in a coming war.

The Polish Fic by MadMaudlin. Not actually the title, but the title is in Polish and the fic heavily involves the Polish language so my discord friends and I call it the Polish Fic. We love it. Whenever we need to feel joy for whatever reason we’ll link it in the fic-recs thread again just to remind each other it exists. As far as I can tell it was written between Season 3 and 4, and that’s reflected in the character interactions, but all in all it’s very sweet. Complete.

Hold Tight, Fear Not, and We’ll See Through This Night by @ostentenacity. A Season 5 AU fic, largely written before Season 5 started airing. An apocalypse fic with a very hopeful ending and a surprising amount of soft moments in between all the horror. Complete.

The Reverb in These Holy Halls by @wolftraps. Another excellent time travel fix-it fic. The Archives gets a cat, the Web is actually pretty helpful, and everyone gets the Found Family storyline they deserve. Includes some fantastic supplemental stories, too. Complete.

Family, Found by Dribbledscribbles. Basically the most cathartic fic I’ve ever read, for no other reason than everyone in S4 is confronted with just how cruel and unfair they’re being to Jon, and reconciliations are had by all. Helen is the MVP while still being Helen. Complete.

fell in your opinion when i fell in love with you by Athina_Blaine. Just read this one today and it hurt me and then healed me. Season 1 era JonMartin, can’t tell if spooks are real or it’s a no-spook AU but it’s not that important I guess. Complete.

dustsceawung by @callmearcturus. Everyone and their grandma has recced this one but I guess I’ll hop on the bandwagon and say that it’s a fantastic fic, urban fantasy with a fae twist, featuring fae!Jon and kindhearted-but-clever mortal Martin. Still ongoing.

Illicio and the Two Sugars-verse by @that-one-girl-behind-you. I know you specified Jonmartin but listen, I love Jongerrymartin a lot and I’m going to make that everyone else’s problem. Two Sugars is a full no-spooky AU, and Illicio is an AU in which Gerard Keay is brought back to life by the Beholding and proceeds to bum-rush the Season 4 Archives armed with nothing but emotional intelligence and ink where his blood should be. Both still ongoing.

There Are Monsters In These Woods by DoilySpider. Another fantasy AU, this one more based in dark (and I do mean DARK) fairy tales. It starts off somewhat Beauty-and-the-Beast flavored but quickly takes on a life of its own. Jonmartin is central but the author promises poly romances in the future. Word of warning: this fic is guaranteed to make you want to wrap Jon in blankets with one hand and tear Jonah Magnus limb from limb with the other. Still ongoing.

The Timeline of Theseus by Applea. Sort of a time travel fix it au, complicated by the fact that Jon got slingshotted so far back that he’s a child again, with his memories of the future apocalypse suppressed. But he’s still a fully realized Archive which catches Elias’s attention, and let me tell you Elias is hilariously unprepared to deal with an avatar child, much less an avatar child who is also Jonathan Sims at the age of eight. Do you want to see Elias repeatedly but also realistically dunked on by a third-grader? Read this fic. Still ongoing.

where there’s a will, we make a way by @bubonickitten. Time travel fix it au! Are you sensing a trend yet? After Martin’s unspecified death in the fearpocalypse, Jon finds a way to go back in time through the rift at Hill Top Road, but only makes it as far back as his coma. There’s not much more to say about it since it only started recently, but I’m very excited to see where this one goes.

thresholds also by @bubonickitten, two fics taking place in Season 3-ish. Basically Elias forces Jon to Know exactly what Mr. Spider did to his childhood bully, and Jon does not take it well. First fic is all hurt, second is more comfort when Martin helps him out of a panic and Jon opens up about his childhood encounter. Complete.

nor any more youth or age than there is now by Ravenesta. A gentle teacher!Jon fic, post-159, no apocalypse. Complete.

carry it with you if you want to survive by freudiancascade. Season 3 Jon&Gerry ghost friendship Pacific Northwest book-hunting ace buddy roadtrip. If that seems like a lot of concepts to pile into one fic, well, Jongerry friendship is fertile territory. This one’s beautifully written and hurt me in the best way possible. No clue if the author plans on continuing it, but I don’t mind too much because the single whopping 14k chapter feels complete on its own.

[demoiselledefortune]

Post canon sangcheng fic recs for @runespoor7

(wooohoo that’s only 25 fics haha)

Silence by inberin

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17441771

a conversation in the snow.

Wonderfully nuanced characterisation. It hints at whole relationship and dynamic with a lot of delicacy.

Windrose by offlight

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18997546

Nie Huaisang is forced into a coma to stop his qi deviation. Jiang Cheng is tasked with waking him up.

There’s a lot of intriguing dreamscapes in this one, and I love Jiang Cheng (and in the background Wei Wuxian)’s desperation and obstinacy.

All the innocence we give by shamiran

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18864910

Learning to renavigate the ground between them is easier than Nie HuaiSang expects. It's also harder than he could have imagined.

Just a sweet story.

Taste the wine off your lips by ExNihiIo

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20129245

A light pat lands against his back, and a cup of water is pushed in front of his face. “Not even Zi Shi, and you’re already tipsy?,” asks a teasing voice, while a thin hand puts down the cup. Jiang Cheng coughs a little more, shaking his head, and sends a dirty look at his host. “I am not tipsy.” “Hm, and yet your cheeks are all red. What would your disciples think, if they saw you in this state?” “They’d think about running away while they can. I can break legs more easily than I can drink alcohol.” A smile curves the edges of Nie Huaisang’s mouth, and he closes his fan with a curt jerk, sitting across the table. He’s wearing lighter clothes, Jiang Cheng notices, compared to the ones he had during the Discussion Conference. Where those had been tight and rigid against his body, these now fall softly on him, the large sleeves sweeping delicately as Nie Huaisang moves to pour himself a cup.

I like the melancholy tone of this one.

The light of autumn: you will not be spared by crooows

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19901467/chapters/47138221

Nie Huaisang arrives a week early for the conference which will be held in Yunmeng to discuss the position of chief cultivator.

[Title is from a poem called "October" by Louise Glück!]

A bit funny, a bit melancholy

You can run but you can’t hide by ThirtySixSaveFiles

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21119297

Nie Huaisang has noticed something about the way Jiang Cheng takes compliments; Nie Huaisang has a theory, and he intends to test it out.

Just Huaisang figuring out Jiang Cheng has a praise kink. Established pairing.

Evening Bloom by dragonofeternal

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20958518

Jiang Cheng is spry and lithe well into his twilight years, living well off Wei Wuxian's stolen youth; Nie Huaisang's golden core, on the other hand, has always been poor- he blacks his hair with ink and dyes, hides the pudge of indolence and the wrinkles of age behind the latest fashions and the finest fans. Perhaps for their peers, finding the space to be vulnerable came easy, but for them it's taken this long to maybe think of letting someone in.

I have a big weakness for stories about old people falling in love and this is one delivers very sweetly.

Four Days in Lanling by Halotolerant

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21722695/chapters/51817036

Nie Huaisang looks at him. ‘You are confusing me, Clan Leader Jiang, perhaps I misunderstand, but…’

‘You didn’t misunderstand. You don’t misunderstand. You understand all of it.’ For six months Jiang Cheng has been mulling this over, and now with Nie Huaisang in front of him he can’t figure out if he most wants to knock him down or kneel at his feet. What he does is try and breathe. Clench his hands at his sides. ‘And now I am going to ask you to do something for me. You have to do something for me. You have to help Jin Ling.’

Ok so perhaps it’s misrepresentating to call this a post canon fic  since most of the action is mid-13-years-of-WWX-death but the fairly important framing part is post canon. Also it’s one of the best sangcheng fic out there and a must read.

Shadow eternal by rynleaf

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23162944/chapters/55439032

“You want me to distract the Chief Cultivator from the Annual Cultivation Conference, so you and other sect leaders can… what. Sign contracts without adult supervision?”

“If Jiang-zongzhu is amenable,” Sect Leader Ouyang repeats with a nod.

Jiang Cheng pinches the bridge of his nose. The pressure he felt building behind his eyes all morning is swiftly coalescing into a bitch of a headache. “Just what do you all think I’m capable of?”

Sect Leader Ouyang bows with a cheerful smile. “We have utmost faith in Sandu Shengshou’s abilities.”

-

In which a night hunt ends in disaster, Jiang Cheng catches a glimpse of Nie Huaisang's heart, and feelings are discussed after a certain fashion.

One that’s between sweet and angsty.

The way is shut, and we cannot go back by saltedpin

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23592523

One month since Guanyin Temple, and some people are coping better than others (or not).

This one is a mostly sad and bitter take on Jiang Cheng reacting to Nie Huaisang’s plot (and being very drunk).

Living memory by ghosthouses

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24827980

Once Jin Guangyao has left, he gives himself two indulgences. The first, a day to scream in his rooms made soundproof with a talisman. The second, a physical list written in code, to keep his older self, who will have let the pain dull with time, accountable for what must be done.

It has only two commandments:

He will die.  

and 

He will know.

Nie Huaisang puts it in his sleeve with the intention of keeping it with him at all times, to be added to but never reduced, a living memory of his task.

This and its prequel which you should also read is quite short but probably one of my favorite depictions of their dynamic (and probably one I find most plausible).

What’s Left of us by cangse-sanren

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24979081

“Well,” Huaisang tries hesitantly, “both of us seem to have a rather fraught relationship with things like older brothers and the concept of betrayal. And regret,” he adds as an afterthought. "Perhaps you just understand me more than most."

Yet another that dwells into Jiang Cheng reacting to Nie Huaisang’s plan. I really like that take although it’s barely shippy (and quite short).

Descending by lightningwaltz

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25296595

“I want to… to not be embarrassed.”

“To not be embarrassed during what?”

“During sex.” There. Jiang Cheng can say it. “In general. Also with you right now.”

“Very good.”

“When did you become so authoritative?” Jiang Cheng wants to sound irked, but can’t quite manage anything beyond nervous curiosity.

Very interesting fic and in many ways unusual. I’d say it’s hypnosis kink, but it’s much more character driven than that. With a context of established FWB arrangement between Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang.

Tell him that I miss our little talks by xiaolongbaobei

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25232023

the post-canon fic where Jiang Cheng becomes the Chief Cultivator, realizes that it's not too late to fall in love and learns to ask for what he wants

Longish fic exploring Jiang Cheng as Chief cultivator working with Nie Huaisang and slowly falling in love with him. I adore this one, and not only because I love fics that explore the idea of Jiang Cheng as chief cultivator.

Blind for Love by manamune

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25760272

Jiang Cheng is poisoned with an aphrodisiac and needs to orgasm repeatedly in order to flush it from his system.

The first person he thinks of going to for help is Nie Huaisang, who does what any good friend would do: he shoves his three decades worth of feelings for Jiang Cheng deep into the recesses of his mind, locks them up so he can pretend they don’t exist, and then fucks him so hard that he passes out.

Mostly a long smutty piece, but with a lot of fun character bits along the way.

A Tight-Knit Family by aldalin

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25500481/chapters/61862899

“Jing Ling, we need to talk.”

Jin Ling has too many uncles, and he’s about to get another.

Sect Leader Jiang announces his marriage to Sect Leader Nie.

A fairly different take, more focused on Jin Ling and Wei Wuxian reacting to Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang’s relationship.

A trip to Qinghe by Scorpiwriting

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26974741

An unexpected hunt forces Jiang Cheng to leave the Lotus Pier a bit earlier than he had anticipated, so he decides to send Jin Ling to Qinghe, for the sake of not sending him back to Lanling so soon: it turns into a learning experience for the young sect leader, who gets to peek into the life of the Headshaker.

or.

Jin Ling learns that not everything people say is true and that perhaps there is some merit to art. He also learns that loneliness is a dark beast and that his uncle should definitely do something about it.

Another one more focused on Jin Ling’s reaction to it. Honestly more of a gen piece about Jin Ling and Nie Huaisang, but an interesting one.

Silver bracelets on their wrists by mercurious

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25797715

“Can’t I find excuses to visit an old friend?”

Ok so this one is a bit fucked up in interesting ways. It combines Chief Cultivator Jiang Cheng and explicit longing about Wei Wuxian, and BDSM as catharsis. It’s a fascinating piece.

Welcome to love by amphigoric

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22412866/chapters/53549794

Desire, Jiang Cheng learned, flourished even in love’s absence. It surged hot and fast through his veins at the sight of Nie Huaisang’s spread thighs, marks still lingering from the last rendezvous they had. He felt it burning through his chest as Huaisang raked lines down his back, breaths coming in short, desperate gasps: “Jiang Wanyin, Jiang Wanyin, please, please.”

It’s a little bit clumsy at times, but also very passionate and intense in a way I still find compelling. Featuring a lot of self sabotaging Jiang Cheng.

When your stitch comes loose by heyninja

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27868454/chapters/68234434

Sometimes people see you for who you really are. Sometimes because you let them. Sometimes whether you like it or not.

A triptych of collisions between Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng.

Only the last part is post canon but it’s the most important part, isn’t it?

Peel your heart like a pomegranate by Izumi_silverleaf

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29458974

"It's an extraordinary feeling when parts of your body are touched for the first time. I'm thinking of the sensations from sex and surgery."

Sometimes you just need to read a very hot guro fic. It’s a weird fic but it’s a cool one.

If you give a Nie a cushion by LesbianLazerOwl

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29470236

Prompt: Long enough After Canon that everyone's mostly okay these days, Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang get drunk and wind up comparing masturbation habits; each is aghast at how the other spends their personal time.

Funny and hot

To Distraction by isozyme

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27763816

It’s the third night of Yunmeng’s kite festival celebrations. Nie Huaisang has come visiting, eager to partake in the food, the arts, and Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng wants to forget. Nie Huaisang has some new lube and wants to see if he can put his whole fist in somebody’s ass.

Established pairing in which Nie Huaisang fists Jiang Cheng. It’s hot.

Safe in Your arms by Dragon_scribe

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30070503/chapters/74058315

In the aftermath of a night hunt gone (very) wrong, Jiang Cheng wakes up to find himself in the Unclean Realm. As he recovers from his injuries, he and Nie Huaisang grow closer and as time passes, their friendship begins to shift to something more.

Very sweet/sappy and hurt/comfort orientated, with a small bit of reconciliation dimension too.

[the-other-art-blog]

Little Women (book): Chapter 44 My Lord and My Lady!!!

I mean just the title of the chapter makes me smile. Seriously, why didn’t Greta adapted this chapter??? It’s about money and art. It was perfect for her movie. I’m sorry, I just can’t get over the fact that Timmy had no idea this happened. But anyway, this is about the book. There’s so much to discuss, this will be long.

Come on, Laurie goes to Orchard to get Amy back home because he can’t possibly find something. Sweetheart.

They do a simile with the weather that’s beautiful and it’s basically Laurie saying that Amy keeps him grounded and focus. And Amy replies saying,

‘Lovely weather so far. I don’t know how long it will last, but I’m not afraid of storms, for I’m learning how to sail my ship.’

This is a recurrent quote. When I read it the first time, I thought she was talking about her alone. But she’s talking about the marriage. Everything so far has been amazing, love among roses. But she knows there will be difficult times and she’s ready to take them. This is bittersweet because we know Amy will suffer multiple miscarriages before their Bess is born. And even then, she’s going to be a frail child.

I read an article that blamed Amy for discouraging Laurie in his pursuit to become a composer. It couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Since Laurie was in Vienna, he realized he didn’t have what it takes to be a genius, just like Amy. Then he began craving for hard and earnest work. Now, back in Concord Laurie is proud to say he will continue his grandfather business. Amy’s parents are very pleased to hear that. I’m sure everyone was surprised to see the changes in Laurie, from the boy who didn’t even want to go to college to an honest and hard-working man, responsible for his own family.

But Amy also has plans. She’s going to be a lady of society, as any woman who married into a family like the Laurences should have done. But they also plan to be a good influence in that society.

Once their gone, Mr. and Mrs. March talk about them. They both agreed they are happy and that it will last. Marmee is especially proud. She was worried when Amy told her about Fred Vaughn, but now she is relieved that Amy knew best and chose the best man for her. Jo agrees, though she still longs for the same happiness. But it quickly fades because Mr. Bhaer enters the house!!! These two are such dorks.

Going back to Amy and Laurie... it’s just too amazing.

Everyone, except Jo, knows Bhaer is there for Jo. Amy is a bit worried that Laurie may be jealous. It’s not that, just that he would prefer Bhaer to be younger and richer. He just wants a good life for his best friend/sister. Amy reminds him a woman should never marry for money. Ahh this is great!

‘I’d have married you if you hadn’t a penny, and I sometimes wish you were poor that I might show how much I love you.’

‘You don’t really think I am such a mercenary creature as I tried to be once, do you? It would break my heart if you didn’t believe that I’d gladly pull in the same boat with you, even if you had to get your living by rowing on the lake.’

I’m just going to leave those quotes for anyone who thinks she married Laurie for money. Laurie says he and Marmee talk about that. If anything, what attracted her the most, or at least initially to Laurie was his looks.

‘Yes, I am, and admiring the mple in your chin at the same time. I don’t wish to make you vain, but I must confess that I’m prouder of my handsome husband than of all his money. Don’t laugh, but your nose is such a comfort to me.’ And Amy softly caressed the well-cut feature with artistic satisfaction.

This is Amy. She is a visual person and enjoys seeing beautiful things, so forgive her for choosing the most handsome man in town.

Amy does show some insecurities towards Jo but Laurie reassures he’s happy with her. So then they discuss a way of helping Jo and Bhaer. Because that’s Amy’s dream: to help others. She says it over and over again!!! They could have gone to donate to charities like so many other rich people do, but instead the decide to help talented people achieve their artistic ambitions.

It’s so fitting. Both Laurie and Amy gave up their dreams of being famous artists because they didn’t have genius. They could have grown bitter about it. But instead they decide to help those who really have genius. I love them.

Amy is also a very grateful person. She acknowledges that she achieved her current status because she got help from lots of people. I don’t remember if the whole “I want to make my own way into the world” conversation actually happened in the book. But Aunt March was right in the 2019 movie. No one, NO ONE succeeds on their own. We all need people,we all need help. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Jo herself needed her family, the public and the editors to succeed. The important thing is always to say “thank you”.

Ambitious girls have a hard time, Laurie, and often have to see youth, health, and precious opportunities go by, just for want of a little help at the right minute. People have been very kind to me, and whenever I see girls struggling along, as we used to do, I want to put out my hand and help them, as I was helped.’

Greta exploited that first line in this quote during the whole press tour, but I’m not sure she remembers why Amy’s saying that. The point is, Amy wants to help girls achieve their dreams. And here’s another “prophetic” element. May Alcott Nieriker was not only a talented painter. She also wrote a guide for women called Studying Art Abroad and How To Do It Cheaply. I don’t have the actual information now, but I think she also wrote columns in a newspaper encouraging women to study art. Neither May nor Amy were Queen Bees, they wanted to succeed, but they also wanted other to be with them. That’s amazing.

Laurie is on board. I mean, they have grown so much. Both of them started as probably the most spoiled characters. And now they are deciding to become a philanthropist couple.

So the young pair shook hands upon it, and then paced happily on again, feeling that their pleasant home was more homelike because they hoped to brighten other homes, believing that their own feet would walk more uprightly along the flowery path before them, if they smoothed rough ways for other feet, and feeling that their hearts were more closely knit together by a love which could tenderly remember those less blest than they.

You can ship whoever you want, but don’t trash this couple cause they are nothing but kind, generous and grateful. And they’ve achieved it with each other’s help and love.

In my opinion, people who hate Amy and Amy and Laurie read the book until Jo rejects Laurie. Then they do a tantrum and stopped reading/ paying attention. Honestly, that’s the only explanation I can think of for all the hate Amy receives.

[rosyfingereddawnn]

only the black rose (chapter 5)

pairing: jimmy page x layla porter (oc)

warnings: talks of parental abandonment, off-scene injury, drug use (legal!), fluff, and me waxing poetic about one of my favourite books. and more fluff.

words: 3.1k

summary: in the blink of an eye, it’s 1975 and layla’s suddenly joining led zeppelin for their north american tour. throughout the chaos, the band take a liking to her, she builds friendships with the boys, and love blossoms. but all good things must come to an end.

author’s note: this one wrote itself. i expected to take longer with it cause of this. this is the start of the Chaos seen in the 1975 North American tour, so hold onto your hats and enjoy! congrats! you’ve unlocked layla’s tragic backstory! unbeta’d as always, and here’s the link to the playlist :)

masterlist

playlist

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

----------

Soon enough, the band make their way home, basking in the golden glow of a couple of excellent shows. It’s only a matter of days until the start of the North American tour, and the excitement is palpable. The boys find themselves at the studio, running through some last-minute tour details, accompanied by a certain brunette firecracker, who sits reading comfortably in the lobby.

Layla, sitting on a luxurious couch just outside of the meeting room, is drowning in a hardcover book, consuming every word at a ravenous pace. The sound of pages flipping periodically is accompanied by the light din of voices detailing the upcoming tour. Lost in the story in front of her, she is surprised when she hears a person clearing their throat, seemingly right in front of her. Looking up, she spots the secretary of Swan Song Records, a woman with glasses and long brown hair ran through with gray, pinned up in a low bun. Light freckles dusted her cheeks. Judging by the crow’s feet at the corners of her hazel eyes, the secretary had to have been older than Layla, perhaps around 50, though her bright smile gave the impression of youth.  

“Sorry to interrupt, Miss… I just couldn’t help but notice the book you were reading. I don’t see many fans of the classics around here, especially ones so young.”

Recovering from the shock of being ripped out of the hypnotising story she was wrapped up in, Layla gestures to the seat next to her. With a bright smile, the secretary smoothes down her pencil skirt, and sits down.

“My mother was a literature buff, and it seems she’s passed that down to me! My name’s Layla. You’re Evelyn, right?”

“Y-Yes, I am! How do you…”

“Well, I had to put a name to the lovely secretary that gives me a smile whenever I see her. Makes my day, if I’m being honest.”

“You’re too sweet, darling,” Evelyn says, lips turning up warmly, eyes dancing with joy. “If I may, what are your thoughts on the book? It’s a personal favourite of mine, and it’s always nice to hear new opinions.”

“Well,” Layla starts, lighting up as she speaks. “Wilde’s language paints such a beautiful, vivid picture, and the characters are so interesting, even if they aren’t morally likeable, most of the time. They make mistakes… Many mistakes… but we sympathize with them.”

At this, Layla cups her hand around her mouth, whispering to Evelyn mischievously, as if what she was about to say was the world’s most important secret.

“It’s a favourite of mine too.”

The two women laugh, Evelyn’s hand falling across Layla’s arm, a comforting, grounding weight. Evelyn, with a warm smile gracing her face, crow’s feet as prominent as ever, sends a pang of longing into Layla’s heart. Not for love, but for her old life. Her friends worried out of their minds over her disappearance; her mother, left alone not once, but twice. Her father had left when she was a child, and it had been her and her mother ever since. Layla learned to put up walls, so that she’d never be hurt like that again. They all leave in the end. It’s better that way. Better not to get attached. Better not to get hurt.

“That’s a lovely interpretation, Layla. You know,” Evelyn says, interrupting Layla’s train of thought. “For someone so young, you have an old soul. Wise beyond your years, for sure.”

“You have no idea…”

“Well, I must get to work, darling,” Evelyn claps her hands together, and stands up, resting a hand on Layla’s arm once more. “I’d love to chat again, though. Such refreshing opinions from such a young woman. I’ll let you get back to your book.”

“I would love to! We’ll make plans soon, I promise. Have a wonderful day, Evelyn!” With that, Layla opens the novel, and is taken once again by the current of the story. Minutes pass, until Layla is interrupted once more, this time by a soft press of lips against the crown of her head.

“Everything alright, Layla?”

“Of course, Jim,” Layla says, reaching out to grasp Jimmy’s hand in return. “How did the meeting go?”

“Well, you were right outside the door, I’m surprised you didn’t eavesdrop,” He takes a seat beside her, and reaches down to tap at the book still nestled in Layla’s hand, her finger keeping the page. “You were too engrossed in this, I bet. What are you reading anyways?”

Layla lifts the book to show the cover, which is a slightly worn navy blue, with golden accents in the form of small droplets. In metallic lettering, read ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’.

“Oscar Wilde, hey? Wouldn’t have pegged you for a lover of the classics.”

“I spent my teenage years with Austen and Dickens, after all.”

“I didn’t think you were that old.”

Layla rolls her eyes, a fond look upon her features. Smiling at the man in front of her, she puts a hand to his cheek.

“Yeah, I’m a real cradle-robber.”

“Just make sure my mum doesn’t hear about this relationship: she’ll have a fit.”

“I’ll be careful, angel,” Layla laughs, putting a pensive finger to her chin. “Hey, Jimmy? Do you have a good relationship with your parents?” Jimmy smiles wide at the question and nods, dark curls bobbing at the movement. He absentmindedly takes Layla’s hand in his, rubbing his thumb in soft circles across her wrist.

“My parents… They’ve always been very supportive of me in every way, and I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to find a way to thank them,” Jimmy squeezes her hand briefly, meeting her eyes. “You know, I bet they’d love you.”

“Do you really think so?” Layla’s cheeks grow warm, and her lips tilt upwards in a smile that is uncharacteristically shy.

“Of course I do, petal,” Jimmy says, pushing a fallen lock of hair behind Layla’s ear, his touch featherlight. “How about you? What are your parents like?”

“Well… My dad… He left us when I was young, so it’s been me and my mom ever since,” This is marked with a moment of silence, and Layla’s eyes meet her shoes, pointedly not looking at Jimmy. “My mom’s probably the strongest person I’ve ever met, and I truly can’t thank her enough for everything she’s done for me. She’s my best friend.”

The silence continues, until Layla feels a calloused finger at her jaw, lifting her chin. Finally flicking her eyes up to gaze at the guitarist, she’s shocked by the concern and sadness she sees in those emerald green eyes.

“Petal, I…”

“Jim, it’s fine. It—”

“It’s not fine, Layla. It’s not. I’m so sorry, you didn’t deserve that. Either of you.” Jimmy pulls her into a tight hug, long arms wrapping around her, making her feel safe. They stay like this for what feels like hours, breaking apart slowly.

“Jimmy, I… Thank you.”

“Of course. Now, how about you read me some of that book of yours?”

Layla laughs brightly, albeit a little watery, and smiles at Jimmy, eyes shining with gratitude. Shuffling, she positions herself in his lap, legs hanging off the end of the couch as his arm comes to rest across her back, holding her steady against his chest. She opens the book, dog-earing the corner of the page she was reading, before flipping back to the start.

“Petal, as much as I like this, I thought we were gonna take it slow? I don’t think public places are the best idea to… Well…”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jimmy,” Layla says, smirk gracing her face as she speaks. “You just make a very comfortable chair.”

Jimmy’s laugh is music to her ears, and she presses a light kiss to his cheek. Focusing on the book in her hand, she begins to read:

“The studio was filled with the rich odour of roses, and when the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden, there came through the open door the heavy scent of the lilac, or the more delicate perfume of the pink-flowering thorn.”

----------

‘Was it all true? Had the portrait really changed? Or had it been simply his own imagination that had made him see a look of evil where there had been a look of joy?’

The next day had arrived, and Layla sits at her kitchen table, enraptured once again by the writings of Oscar Wilde. The words on the page enchant her, and she has no desire to put the novel down anytime soon. She’d have to tell Evelyn all about it, the next time she sees her.

‘Surely a painted canvas could not alter? The thing was absurd. It would serve as a tale to tell Basil some day. It would make him smile. And, yet, how vivid was his recollection—’

A shrill ringing pulls her out of the carefully crafted narrative of Dorian Gray. Layla huffs, annoyed at the intrusion, and moves to pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Layla! Hi, good to hear from you, hope you’re having a great day so far! Lovely weather we’re having, hey?” The slightly nasal voice of one Robert Plant, crackles through the phone, and Layla sighs at his exuberance.

“Robert, hey. What is it?”

“Uh… Please don’t freak out. It’s really not that bad, and everyone is… mostly… fine?”

“Rob—”

This is followed by a noise in the background, a sort of crackle, as if Robert had shifted the phone to his other hand. Layla can hear the way his breath picks up, the way panic seeps into his voice. “Just a heads up that we’ll be at your place in about… 10 minutes! See you then!”

“What is going on? I was reading, I’m really not in the mood for—”

Another crackle, and a sigh from Robert’s end of the line. Layla runs a hand through her hair, biting her lip in an attempt to quell the panic rising in her throat.

“Promise me you won’t freak out, little dove.”

Layla exhales sharply through her nose, unimpressed at the plea of the man on the other line. Coiling the telephone cord around her finger to calm her nerves, she responds.

“Fine, I’m not gonna freak out. Now, tell me what happened.”

“Well… Um… Jimmy, well, he kinda… got his… finger slammed in a train door?”

“...”

“Layla? Are you still there?”

“How?!”

“I told you not to freak out…”

“Robert!” Layla exclaims, concern painted clearly on her flushed face.

“Okay, okay, he told us he was holding the door open for someone on the way to Swan Song, and well… You know the rest.”

“Is he going to be okay?”

Another sigh sounds from the other line, and Layla waits in anticipation for his response, growing anxious with each passing moment. Finally, she hears the man’s response, and deflates with relief, sinking into the chair beside her.

“He should be fine. Like I said before, we’re gonna come get you right away. He’ll be okay, Layla.”

“Okay…Robert?”

“Yes, little dove?

“Thank you.”

“Of course,” Robert chuckles lightly, bringing a smile to Layla’s face, the undercurrent of anxiety still coursing through her. She thinks it will stay that way, until she sees Jimmy, makes sure he’s okay. “We’ll be there in 10 minutes. Sit tight, Layla.”

Layla sits at the kitchen table, biting her thumbnail, mind elsewhere, until she hears the telltale sound of a car pulling up, engine cutting out. Flying out the door, She spots Jonesy in the driver’s seat, Bonzo next to him, with Robert in the back. Opening the door, she sits next to the blond, and he gazes over at her, putting a hand to her shoulder. Sympathy flashes across his face as he takes in the shocked look Layla’s sporting.

“He’ll be okay, Layla. He will.”

“Robert, I… Jonesy, please, just drive?”

“Right.”

The engine rumbles to life, and they’re off, no doubt speeding to whatever hospital Jimmy’s holed up in. Layla lets her thoughts drift to Jimmy. She wonders how he’s doing, if he’s in any pain, if they’re treating him well. She’s distracted enough that she barely feels Robert’s hand, warm and comforting, on her knee. Layla is snapped out of her thoughts by a particularly sharp turn, and she looks up at Robert, her eyes brimming with tears.

“Rob… What if he’s… not okay? It was his finger. That means that he might not be able to play, if it’s bad enough,” She stammers, eyes frantic in their search of the blond’s face. “His guitar is his life, and—”

“Layla, calm down. It’ll be okay. It won’t do us any good to think like that.” Robert leans over, throwing his arm around her shoulder as best he could in the cramped car. To his surprise, she leans into him, resting her head on his shoulder. Layla unconsciously brings a hand up to bite her thumbnail, and catching the action, Robert places his hand on hers, pushing it back down to rest in her lap. They stay that way until the car rolls to a stop in the hospital parking lot. Layla lifts her head from Robert’s shoulder with breakneck speed, scrambling out of the car.

“Layla, wait!” Jonesy calls out, running after the woman, who dashes through the door. Robert and Bonzo catch up, just as Layla reaches the front desk, panting from exertion. The nurse on shift looks at her, eyes wide, shocked at the display.

“Excuse me, love,” Bonzo says, tucking Layla under his arm as he speaks to the nurse. “We’re looking for James Page? He was brought in for a fractured finger, I believe?”

“...Yes, right. What is your relationship with the patient?”

“We’re his bandmates, we can call our manager if you need proof. Please, we just need to see if he’s okay.”

The nurse eyes the group dubiously, and grabs the chart sitting next to her, looking through it. Glancing at the group again, she points behind them, to a room packed with seats, posters and pamphlets lining the walls.

“It seems that Mr. Page is still with the doctor getting X-rayed, so I’m going to need you to take a seat in the waiting area. Give that manager of yours a call, and we’ll see what we can do for you.”

“Thank you, love.” Bonzo says, as he herds the group over to the soft, patterned armchairs, plopping down with a sigh. Jonesy excuses himself to make a phone call to Peter, the others left waiting for news that won’t come fast enough.

Jimmy has to be okay. He has to.

----------

“For James Page?” The nurse’s voice rings out across the waiting area, and the group shoot up from their seats, stiff backs groaning in protest. “Follow me.”

The nurse leads them through a labyrinth of hallways, stopping finally at a room with a large 164 pasted on the closed door. Through the window looking into the room, Layla spots Jimmy asleep under the covers, his hands atop the sheets, resting on his stomach. He looks peaceful, she thinks, like he’s devoid of pain. If she couldn’t see the injured hand at all, she’d have thought he was perfectly fine.

The group finally walk into the room, the sharp smell of antiseptic burning their nostrils. Hearing the click of the door opening, Jimmy opens his eyes, pupils blown wide. His irises are almost black, and he sends them a dopey smile, a giggle bursting out.

“Hey, guys. Fancy seeing you all here.” Jimmy slurs, laughing harder now, as though he had told the most hilarious joke in the world. The boys join in, amused by the antics of their guitarist. Layla hangs back, staring at Jimmy, concern clear on her face. She had spotted the injured finger on the way in, which was already bruised a deep purple, the fingernail completely blackened.

“They give you the good stuff, Pagey?”

“You know it, Jonesy.” Jimmy shoots the bassist a sloppy wink, and the group erupts into soft laughter once more. Taking a dazed glance around the room, the raven-haired man pouts, completely endearing in his drugged state. “Hey… where’s Layla?”

Peter, who had been standing next to the bed, moves aside, and glassy green met warm brown. The guitarist smiles softly, relaxing back into the pillows. He sticks out his uninjured hand, and she walks closer to take it. Never lessening her grip, Layla threads the fingers of her free hand through Jimmy’s messy curls, and looks down at him fondly.

“How’re you doing, champ?”

“Good, now that you’re here. I would kiss you right now… if I wasn’t seeing two of you.”

“They must have him on the really good stuff…” Layla throws over her shoulder, looking back at the injured guitarist. He’s looking up at her with unabashed affection, and she can’t help but blush at the adoration in his gaze.

“Sorry to interrupt,” comes from the open doorway, as Jimmy’s doctor steps through. “I’m Dr. Vane, I treated James when he came in. If you’d kindly step out for a moment, I’d like to go over his prognosis.”

The boys file out of the room, and Layla goes to follow, stopped in her tracks by Jimmy tugging her back towards him with a whimper. She gives in, sinking back down in the chair at his bedside.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, Jimmy. I was so scared when Robert called. I thought...”

“I’m glad you’re here, petal. Now, come into bed with me. I want to see you better.” Jimmy mutters, scooting over to make room for her to fit in the small hospital bed. Layla laughs, nodding, and crawls in beside him, careful not to hurt him. She turns on her side, her hand landing in his hair again. Jimmy looks up at her, pupils still dilated, and presses a quick peck on her lips, giggling anew.

“You’re so beautiful. Have I ever told you that you’re beautiful? ‘Cause you are.” He insists, slurred speech returning in full force, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Go to sleep, Jimmy. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He hums softy in response and a few seconds later, Jimmy’s breathing evens out. He’s dead to the world. Through the door left ajar, Layla can hear snippets of the conversation with the doctor.

“... Fractured the tip of his finger… At least a month.”

“Will he be able to play anytime soon?” That was Peter, voice soft with worry for the frail man in the hospital bed.

“He should rest… Not good to put too much strain on it… Keeping him here until the anaesthetic wears off.”

Tuning them out, Layla looks down at the man sleeping beside her. His hair is matted on one side of his head, and he snores louder than he’d ever admit, but he looks peaceful. He’s not in any pain, and that’s enough for Layla. She drifts off, as the sound of footsteps against the floor draw near. Her tired eyes open to slits, and she sees a shadow with dark, shoulder-length and a beard. It must be Bonzo, she thinks. The last thing Layla hears before succumbing to the exhaustion that plagues her, is the drummer’s soothing voice, hushed to a whisper.

“Let them sleep.”

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taglist: @jimmys-zeppelin @salixfragilis @timetraveller4 (let me know if you want to be added!)

[lilxberry]

Can’t Quite Quit You - Chapter 1

Synopsis;

It appears that Mr Stark once had a Mrs Stark in his life that certainly wasn’t his mother. Tony and reader must work around their rocky path for the sake of the Avengers and the work the must focus on together once again.

Warnings: Language. Mentions of past relationship. That’s about it for this Chapter.

Words: 2,840

Pairing: Tony Stark x OC (past), James ‘Rhodey’ Rhodes x OC (platonic)

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(A/N: This is a separate series I will be working on. There will be confusing changes to the characters, original plots and relationships between people. For example;

Tony stark will have been previously married to OC

Morgan will be in existence at the age of 5 in this for a plot that will happen in future chapters

I have set direct ages for some characters like Tony and Rhodey which will respectively be 45 and 46

Tony and Rhodey will have met before they canonly met

Any further changes to things that I feel will need to be discussed, I’ll add them before the chapter begins in an authors note.)

(A/N 2: I will foreseeably not be posting on Thursdays and Fridays. I WILL continue to write during those days though ((if I do not have college work to complete during those nights)) and post them any other days of the week. Also, Chapter three of The Glitch should be up Saturday. Read chapter 2 here.)

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She took one last look around her home that was now vacant and clear of all her belonging, dark from the late hours of the night. Chloe sighed through her nose softly and lugged the last box in her arms through the threshold, closing and locking the door behind her, posting the key through the letterbox then proceeding to head to her car.

One Nick Fury had requested her scientific knowledge to be put to use helping the Avengers. It took a lot of persuasion on Fury’s and Rhodey’s part. Rhodey and Chloe are practically life-long friends with how close they once were, knowing each other for many years, still regularly keeping in touch. So, when Fury approached him about about recruiting her to the more scientific and engineering department of the Avengers, he had contacted her immediately in the hopes of convincing you to take up his offer.

She was renowned in her work as a scientist and robotic engineer, although, no one would truly know it’s her. She gave herself an alias, disliking the attention and wanting the focus to be purely on her work. 

Usually, Chloe wouldn’t need to be sweet talked into such an amazing opportunity but certain circumstances with a certain someone had left a bitter after-taste in her mouth and, if you hadn’t picked up on this yet, that certain someone is, let’s just say, closely involved with the Avengers.

We’ll get on to whom she refers to later.

Placing the last box into her Vauxhall Wagon, she climbed into the drivers seat and began her journey to compound, leaving behind her comfortable and solitary life where she focused solely on living and work. As she drove down the desolate dirt road, her eyes drifted to the rear view mirror, noting the stand alone house surrounded by fields upon fields, slowly fade away as she put distance between it and herself.

Her mind wandered as she travelled, wandering into crevasses she wished would not be explored, memories she thought she had locked away behind barriers and chains well enough.

Chloe thought of him, what his reaction will be when he sees her for the first time in 13 years. If he’s changed, if he thinks she’s changed which admittedly, she had. 

She knew what he looked like recently, of course she did, he was all over the fucking news. She couldn’t even open up Google on her laptop without his bloody face showing up but she hadn’t the slightest clue on what was going on in his life apart from being one of Earths mightiest heroes and quite frankly, she didn’t want to know either.

As she pulled up to a red light, she leaned back into her seat and closed her eyes as she exhaled loudly. A million scenarios passed through her head at how the interaction could play out. She knew things would be fine though, Rhodey would be by her side, a comforting presence helping her through the ordeal.

Her eyes were open once more as she watched the lights change. She turned her radio on, hopeful the loud 80′s rock blaring from the speakers would drown her thought out, remotely giving her a peaceful 10 hour drive.

“Fuck. Me.”

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After a gruelling 11 hours and 45 minutes drive, the compound came into view as she passed the trees surrounding the large, sleek building. Chloe noticed the many people training on the grounds, making the assumption that they were employees of S.H.I.E.L.D., agents training to maintain their fit-for-field-work physique.

As she closed in on the compound, she noticed three figures standing near the entrance. As her eyes adjusted, she was able to recognise Director Fury, whom she had seen through her laptop screen when they first made contact, and Captain America himself stood beside a woman she did not recognise.

Her car slowed to a stop, becoming still then silent as she killed the engine. She huffed out a breath as she unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door, swinging her legs out first, happy to finally stretched her legs and exit the vehicle finally.

She breathed in a the fresh air as she stoop up, momentarily closing her eyes to give them a well deserved break, adding moisture back into her green orbs. She quickly recomposed herself and closed her door, rounding the car and taking a few small paces forwards to meet the trio.

“Doctor Miller. I’m glad you took me up on my offer.” Fury extended his arm towards the woman for a handshake which she shook with firmly with confidence. As he retracted his hand for hers and began to gesture to the two beside him. “This is Agent Maria Hill and I assume that you already know who this man is.” He gestured over towards the fellow brunette and the Nations favourite super soldier who both gave the woman a friendly smile.

“You assumed correctly.” She mused as she thrust her right hand towards each other them to shake as her left slides into her front pocket of her jeans. “It’s good to meet you both.”

Steve was the next to speak. “It’s good to meet you, too. A few of us have been informed of your work and I believe you’ll be a great addition to the team, working in the labs.” He sent you a charming smile. “I think you’ll fit in nicely with the others.”

“I’m glad you think so.” Chloe sent him a smile back. They noted the lack of shyness, she exudes confidence and is clearly prideful of the work she has put out into the world.

“We should introduce you to the rest of the team in the living area.” Maria speaks up, catching the attention of the other three. They nodded simultaneously in agreement. “If you hand me the keys to your car, we can collect your stuff and take them on to your floor. We’ll move your car into the a secluded area for safe keeping as well.”

Chloe nodded but spoke before handing her keys over. “Let me just quickly grab something and we can get moving, I guess.” Maria gave a curt nod of her head and Chloe walked back towards the Vauxhall. 

She opened up the front passengers side door and reached in to retrieve a box off of the passengers seat and her back pack from floor in front. Satisfied she’s grabbed everything of real personal value, she straightens herself out, closes the door with her hip and makes her way back over to the trio who was patiently waiting by the entrance.

She swiftly handed her keys over to the agent of three before following Fury and Steve through the doors and towards an elevator at one end of the large space.

“Would you like any help with that bo-”

“NO!” She cuts the captain off quickly, emphasising loudly. She cleared her throat before continuing. “Uhm, no, thank you. Sorry, the stuff in here is really important to me and I’d rather not put it into the large hands of a stranger, no offence.” She smiles up at the man bashfully. He smiles at her apologetically in return.

“No worries, sorry.”

As the elevator finally arrived, they stepped inside and rode up to the main communal floor all the Avengers use. The ride was relatively silent, until Fury spoke up. “Rhodes has been quite excited to see you, you know.”

She smiled at the mention of her friend. “I’ve been pretty excited to see him too. Not seeing him in person for 12 years is a pretty long time.” She chuckled at the thought.

Steve smiled as he watched the woman speak kind words about her friend, voicing how, after all this time, she would seemingly still be excited to see an old friend.

They fell back into a comfortable silence, listening to the hum of the elevator as it works to ascend pass multiple floors. A simple ‘Ding’ cut through the silent machinery and soon after the metallic doors slid open, reveal the mixed group of people as they turned their attention to the three now steeping out. 

The silence was daunting as the team watched them walk towards them. The silence was soon broken once again as Rhodey pushed passed the few stood in his way, a massive smile had broken on to his face. “Hey there, Pip.”

She grinned at the use of her childhood nickname. “Well, if it isn’t my favourite Lieutenant Colonel.” She sent him a playful wink as she placed her back pack and box gently on to the ground before surging forward, engulfing the man in a long awaited hug.

He immediately responded by wrapping his arms tightly around her shoulders, closing his eyes to bask in the loving moment between friends for as long as time would allow him. “You’ve grown.” She mumbled.

“You’ve shrunk, short ass.” She pinched his back through his shirt and his chest vibrated as he laughed.

He leaned back, looking at how she’s aged well in person. A few frown lines are scattered across her forehead and dark bags from lack of sleep evident on face but he couldn’t help but notice that she still had that same beautiful, youthful features that remained from their 20′s.

A cough from behind Rhodes brought them out of their small reunion, forcing their attention on to the group awaiting anxiously for an introduction. “Oh shit, right. Avengers, this is Chloe Miller, Pip, these are the Avengers.”

They all flashed her a welcoming smile as she drank in all of their faces. 

‘Too many damn people. I’m not gonna get used to this quickly.’ Chloe thought to herself as she continued to study the heroes before her.

“Maybe we should actually start introductions instead of standing here looking like a bunch of mute dumbasses.” The man she recognises as Hawkeye spoke with a hint of sarcasm. “I’m Clint.”

He began to point at individuals as he recited their names to her. “That’s Natasha, Bucky and Sam. Over there we have Wanda, Vision and Thor. And finally, Carol, Stephen and Scott.”

“Lady Chloe, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Thor boomed as he quickly made his way over to her in just two large strides and proceeds to pat her shoulder.

“Yeah, nice to meet you too, Salt.” She winced slightly as she rolled the shoulder the God had previously touched with his large, powerful hands roughly, referencing the Angelina Jolie character with long, blonde hair.

“I apologize for my rough housing, lady Chloe.”

“All good, buddy.” She patted his arm to show there were no hard feelings between the two.

As it looked like Thor was to reply yet again, Steve decided to interject. “There’s a few more of us but they’re currently either out, busy in the labs or away for other matters, personal or other.”

“Cool.” She simply replied to the man. As formalities and introductions continued to be exchanged between the group she noticed a small girl peer from behind Scott, she appeared to be young, like 9 or 10.

The young girl wasn’t necessarily shy in any way, she just chosen to stay out of the way as the adults talked. Chloe tilted her head towards Rhodey who still stood beside her. “Didn’t realise you guys were a fucking day centre.” She joked quietly, causing the man to let out a chuckle at the crack.

“That’s Scott's kid, Cassie. It was Scott's weekend and she really wanted to stay at the compound. She’s a sweet kid.” Rhodey informed her. she nodded in acknowledgement before making the decision to take a step forward and lower herself down to the child's level.

“Hey there.” She smiled sweetly at the girl. “I heard that your name’s Cassie. I think that’s a super pretty name.” This caused the young girl to send a smile to the 43 year old and step closer.

“I think your name is pretty too.” Cassie spoke in a sweet voice, tone laced with a childlike chirpiness.  

“I think we’re gonna get along great, Cassie.” She stuck her hand out towards the girl to finalise their meeting. Cassie grasps Chloe’s hand into her small, dainty one and shook it lightly.

Chloe straightened herself out and sent one last smile towards the girl before stepping back to her original position next to Rhodey. The man smiled sadly as he watched her in the corner of his eye, a knowing look in his eye as he noticed the smile that didn’t quite match the solemn look in her eye as she continuously glances as Cassie.

_______________

The group of people had migrated to the couches within the living space, continue to conversate with the newest addition to the building although, Scott had taken Cassie out to get food and have some daddy-daughter time.

As they continue to get to know each other, the elevator dinged once more, signifying the arrival of more people. Chloe peered over, seeing one Doctor Robert Bruce Banner, whom she was a big fan of, and a young male at his side. 

‘Seriously. How many kids do they let in here?’ 

“Ah, Bruce, Peter. We’d like to introduce you to Doctor Chloe Miller. She’ll be working in the labs with you and Stark.” Steve spoke to the two. Chloe stood up, ignoring the mention of Anthony and met them halfway, shaking Banner’s outstretched hand.

“Doctor Banner, it’s wonderful to meet you. I’ve read all your papers. Your thesis's are impressive, to say the least.” He smiled sheepishly at Chloe. She noted he was quite the humble man. 

“Thank you, Doctor. I look forward to working with you in the lab. Young Peter here works alongside us in the labs sometimes.” He directed her attention to the teenage boy that stood to his left.

“P-Parker Peter. I-uh-I mean, Peter Parker.” He wiped his hands on the front of his jeans before reaching to shake the woman’s, stumbling over his words. 

She chuckled at the young boys behaviour and sent him a comforting smile which seemed to have helped him significantly. “Don’t worry kid. It’s nice to meet you. You must have a bright mind to be working alongside Banner occasionally.”

He beamed at this as he flushes a light shade of pink at her compliment. “I mean, I’m okay, I guess.” She laughed at his also apparent humbleness.

“Sure, kid.” She patted his shoulder gently before moving to sit beside Rhodey again.

Bruce and Peter joined the others on the couches, sitting in any space that was available. As they settled into their seats, Natasha spoke out over the small murmurs between people. “Tony still in the lab?”

“Yeah, he should be up in a few minutes though.” Banner replied then looked over towards Chloe. “Doctor Miller, have you met Stark before?” He questioned.

Rhodey and Chloe shared a look, almost seemingly having a miniature conversation telepathically that didn’t go unnoticed by the group. “I guess you could say that I have.” 

Before the scientist could ask what she had meant by her statement, the elevator dinged once again, announcing a new arrival. “Why is everyone so damn quiet? Who fucking died guys?” He spoke as he walked further into the space, not looking up from the tablet his eyes were glued to.

Chloe didn’t even need to look to know it was him. His voice hadn’t altered that much over the years.

Tony’s eyebrows furrowed together when his question was met with silence. He tore his gaze away from tablet that displayed plans for one of his new suits and looked around at each person sat on the couches. He did a double-take when his eyes reached a a certain brunette from his past, a brunette he hadn’t seen in 13 years. 

“Chloe.” He breathed out, multiple emotions are on display in his eyes alone but the most noticeable of them all is shock which is etched across his face. 

She stood up straight, looking him directly in the eyes, her face stoic but voice laced with many emotions. “Stark.” She spoke with anger, malice in her tone. 

Tony quickly recomposed himself before draining his face of emotion to match Chloe’s. “Don’t say my name with so much hate, Pip. After all, it was yours as well at some point in time.”

Rhodey closed his eyes for a brief moment as he sighed softly before joining the pair in standing, staying close to Chloe as he knows he needs his support most right now.

The rest of the Avengers, excluding the pairs best friend, looks at them in confusion, unsure of the true meaning behind his statement. “What do you mean you used to share it?” Wanda spoke up, her accent thick and laced with curiosity.

Then suddenly, it’s as if the newly gained information and witnessing the interaction between the two had made something click, everyone’s features change as quickly as a flick of a switch. 

“No fucking way...”

“You guys are...”

“YOU GUYS ARE MARRIED?!”

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Something a bit different

Never done an OC before but I kinda liked how this turned out

I hope you enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and appreciated :D

[the-writers-bookshelf]

It's Friday and thankfully I remembered before bed.

My wip is unconventional in that the "plot" is just character development. That's all I care about with books and it was all I wanted to write. Brief TW for those who decide to read: this wip deals with a lot of mental health issues, bigotry, and talks about sex and asexuality (there's a more graphic *warning that applies which I will tag before said character's paragraph). While I won't be going into detail I feel y'all deserve to be warned.

The story features three main characters:

Alvere Duval, an autistic gay ace man of colour who was stuck with crappy parents until he hit 19, at which point he ran away with his best friend to bunk with his boyfriend. Alvere's main arch (to put it very simply) is about him learning to love and accept himself despite all the horrific shit his parents and peers said about him. He deals with self-hatred, internalized ableism, homophobia, and acephobia, pretty nasty C-PTSD and anxiety, I could go on but we'd be here all day (this poor man). His secondary arch revolves around his desire to build a shelter for LGBTA+ youths who are homeless or stuck with crappy parents like he was. My favorite thing about writing for him is the confrontation scene he has with his mother near the end of the book. In many ways he was close to her and loved her to death, but his best friend and boyfriend could see how casually dismissive she was towards his ability to form his own opinions and knew she was complacent in the horrible way his father treated him. Part of him knows that too, but he's terrified of losing the idealized version of her he has in his head bc it's one of the only good memories from his childhood. Yes I cry every time I think about it and love projecting onto my own characters why do you ask?

Next up is Jack Felicity, a mute non-binary aroace indigenous person, and Alvere's best friend. Their main arch is about them processing the damage theirs and Alvere's early friendship did to them, as it was extremely co-dependent and drained them of any and all personality they once had. Add ADHD and depression to that mix, and about half way through the book they realize they literally have no idea who they are outside of "Alvere's Friend" and have to rebuild themself with the support of their mom, their new friends, and Alvere himself now that they've started working through their dependency issues. Their secondary arch revolves around them learning that sometimes second chances are worth the risk of betrayal, and that losing a friend is hard but it's not the end of the world, and it doesn't mean they failed. My favorite scene I've written with them is when they reconcile with their mom who, while not nearly as bad as Al's, still made some mistakes in the past. I love it bc she acknowledges that she was wrong and apologizes to Jack for being insensitive in regards to their depression. If only more parents did that.

Lastly we have Carlo, a bi gnc trans man, and Alvere's boyfriend. (*TW for mentioned substance abuse, underage sex work & grooming. "Easy to digest" I said. "For fun" I said. I'll italicize the sentences so you can skip em). Carlo's main arch revolves around him learning to respect people with different boundaries. He was exploited and groomed into sex work at the age of 16 and though he's since escaped his abusers, he never got to process his trauma authentically before he and Al got together. Whereas Carlo's a touchy guy and doesn't really have a concept of personal space (since he wasn't allowed to if he wanted to have enough money to eat), he doesn't really get Al's touch aversion or Jack's trust issues and ends up making an ass of himself on multiple occasions. He always does his best to make up for it though, since he knows damn well how awful it feels to have one's boundaries invaded like that, and knows that just because he doesn't understand them doesn't mean they aren't valid. His secondary arch is about his reliance on substances (cigarettes and alcohol) to numb the pain of his past. With the help of his loved ones and a slap in the face courtesy of his own inebriated behavior, he starts taking steps to recover. My favorite thing about writing for him is how he reacts to Al's asexuality. Despite being hypersexual in the beginning (bc trauma) and still enjoying it as the book goes on, he's very supportive of Al and makes several points of letting him know he never has to give him anything he's not ready for, which culminates in one long chapter of Al getting the mushy gushy date he deserves bc fuck acephobes.

This project started off as individual vignettes to get me back into writing and evolved into a slice of life story about these three growing up and falling in love (platonically and romantically) with each other. There's a lot more to it that I didn't cover bc I don't wanna give everything away, but I have like no one to talk to about this and my first draft is almost done and I'm excited so. I hope you enjoyed my ramblings.

Hi lovely! Your WIP is AMAZING and I love it!! I decided to copy/paste it into a post (and tagged you in it!) so I could put the more sensitive topics under a cut. But PLEASE don't feel like I'm sensoring you because that is not my intention at all! It's just a precaution ♥

Your work is REALLY important! Especially when it comes to asexuality! I'm on the ace spectrum myself and there is absolutely a HUGE need for writing like yours in this world, spreading awareness and making it NORMAL! Thank you so much for your wonderful writing! :)