#or all the snide under the breath comments they make while the main person is talking

[whats-9plus10]

I love when people make compilations of Venture Bros funny moments because even though there's so much overlap, there's the few specific moments that's unique to their humor and it makes me feel like I'm reading a little page of their diary.

[waitineedaname]

It was Tommy Coolatta’s birthday, and Gordon Freeman was shaking in a Chuck E. Cheese bathroom.

He hadn’t planned to end up there. He hadn’t planned to be in many of the places he’d been in the past… god. Week? Weeks? Month? The realization that he couldn’t remember how long he’d spent trying to escape Black Mesa made him grip the cheap tile of the bathroom countertops and shake even harder.

He’d tried to make it through the party as long as he could, he really had. He’d danced with Bubby and Coomer and tried his hand at the arcade machines and eaten what pizza he could stomach. But it was just… so much. He wasn’t sure how the others could party like that after everything they’d gone through. Everyone coped differently, he supposed.

He should probably go back out there soon, for Tommy’s sake. It was his birthday, after all, and after everything Tommy had done for him, he owed it to him to at least celebrate with him. He just… needed a minute. Maybe none of them had even realized he’d left yet.

“Mr. Freeman?”

Damn.

“Hey, Tommy.” Gordon offered Tommy a weak smile, though he could see in the mirror that it was more of a grimace. “Sorry, man, I’ll be back out there in a second. It was just… a lot.”

Tommy nodded, a sympathetic look on his face. “Do… Is it okay if I join you?”

“What? You don’t have to keep me company dude, it’s your birthday. Don’t stop having fun on my account.” Gordon tried to wave him towards the door, but Tommy was shaking his head before he’d even finished his sentence.

“No, I… It’s a lot for me too. The-” Tommy gestured vaguely as if searching for a word and failing to find it, “All of it.”

“Oh.” Gordon blinked. “Then, yeah, pull up a chair, I guess.”

Tommy gave him a small smile and shut the bathroom door behind him. He leaned his back against it and let out a sigh that Gordon echoed.

They stood there in silence for a while, Gordon doing his best to get his shaking under control. With anyone else, he might have felt awkward, but this was Tommy. Tommy had been the one to practically carry him through countless tunnels and vats of questionable liquid when he was delirious from blood loss. If there was anyone he trusted to not judge him for having a breakdown in the bathroom, it was Tommy.

The metal of the HEV suit clinked against the linoleum of the sink, and suddenly it struck him how much he wanted this thing off.

“Hey, uh,” Gordon spoke up, clearing his throat. Tommy hummed in acknowledgement, “You’ve read a bunch of manuals, right? Did you read the HEV suit manual?”

“Uh, yeah!”

“Think you could get this thing off me?”

Tommy’s eyes widened like he’d only just realized how long Gordon had been wearing the suit. “Oh! Yeah, I can- I think I can do that.”

Tommy approached him slowly, as if approaching a skittish cat, then became more confident in his movements when Gordon gave no sign of flinching away. He began working on the back of Gordon’s chestplate first, slender fingers working deftly on the bolts and buckles that held it together. It was slow work, but with each piece Tommy lifted off him, Gordon felt he could breathe easier. A literal weight was lifted off him, and it only made him more aware of the ache deep in his bones. Every few minutes, there would be a loud noise from the main entertainment area of the Chuck E. Cheese; Gordon would flinch away from the sound, and Tommy would freeze in his movements, but then they would hear Coomer’s loud laughter or a snide, muffled comment from Bubby, and they would relax and resume their work.

After what felt like eons, Tommy finished unclasping the last buckle on Gordon’s boots, stepping back to let him toe them off himself. The HEV suit was a pile of orange rubble surrounding them, and Gordon suddenly felt exposed in nothing but his socks and the dark jumpsuit he’d been wearing under the suit. He felt like he could stand up straight without straining for the first time in weeks, and the feeling of the overpowered Chuck E. Cheese air conditioning seeping through the sleeves of his jumpsuit left him feeling flayed raw. 

Tommy was staring at him with an unreadable look on his face, hands flexing and unflexing in a nervous stim. He reached out a hand, hesitated, then laid it on Gordon’s left forearm. Gordon’s skin burned under his touch. When was the last time he’d felt someone else’s body heat?

“Can…” Tommy’s voice was quiet and sounded as fragile as Gordon felt, “Can I hug you?”

Gordon didn’t trust himself to speak around the lump the size of a tennis ball in his throat, so he just nodded. Tommy outstretched long arms, and the two of them fell into each other. 

Gordon’s whole body felt like it was buzzing right down to his core. He was lightheaded as everything hit him in that moment. All he had gone through. All he had survived. The fact that he was out, and he was alive. The fact that this was the first time he’d touched someone and felt it on his skin since he’d dropped Joshua off at his mom’s the week of the test. And it was Tommy who got to hold the title of the first person to hug him in far too long. Tommy who had been kind to him even when stress was making them all snappish, and who had made jokes with him when things felt grim. Tommy who had been the only one he trusted when everyone else left him for dead, Tommy who fought by his side so loyally and who removed that horrible suit with such impossible tenderness. 

Gordon pressed his face into the shoulder of Tommy’s filthy polo shirt that smelled like sweat and blood but was warm and had probably been soft at some point, and he let out the loudest sob in his life. His voice shattered on the noise, and then he suddenly couldn’t hold it back anymore, sob after sob wrenching its way out of his throat. 

He wasn’t sure he’d ever cried like this. Not when he was in labor with Joshua, not at any point during the Resonance Cascade, not even when his arm was being cut off. Nothing compared to these deep sobs that seemed to claw their way out of somewhere deep in his soul to burst out of his chest as everything crashed into him all at once.

He could feel Tommy’s fist balled in the back of his jumpsuit, and he could feel and hear Tommy weeping quietly into where he’d pressed his face into Gordon’s hair, and the raw sensations of it all only made him sob harder.

They stood there, clinging to each other until Gordon’s knees couldn’t hold him up any longer, and then they both sank to the ground, still holding onto each other like they were each other’s life lines. Maybe they were.

Eventually, Gordon simply couldn’t cry anymore, his tear ducts emptied, leaving him with a dehydration headache and a sore throat. He didn’t extricate himself from Tommy’s hold, though, and Tommy didn’t seem like he was going to let go any time soon either. He’d cried himself empty sooner than Gordon had, and now he was just stroking his fingers through Gordon’s knotted curls. Gordon didn’t want to think about how nasty his hair must be right now, caked in blood and sweat and god knows what else, but Tommy’s hand in his hair felt more soothing than aloe on a sunburn. 

He snorted quietly when the simile occurred to him. He’d maybe been spending too much time with Tommy. He then immediately shoved that thought away and squeezed Tommy tighter. No, he had not spent nearly enough time with Tommy. Now that they were out, he could let himself think about spending time with Tommy when they weren’t in mortal danger. He couldn’t wait to watch Tommy’s favorite shows and listen to him infodump about them, or walk Sunkist in the sunshine, or take Tommy to his favorite restaurants, or introduce him to Joshua-

Fuck. God, he really liked this guy, huh.

Tommy pulled back ever so slightly, though he didn’t go far. Just enough to be able to look down at Gordon with those kind, intelligent eyes, and Gordon thought he might pass out. He moved his hand from Gordon’s messy ponytail to cup his cheek, and Gordon was certain he was going to pass out.

“Are you okay?” Tommy asked. Gordon laughed despite himself.

“No,” Gordon said, tilting his head to better fit against Tommy’s hand and giving Tommy the tiniest smile, “I don’t think I am.”

Tommy gave him his own sad smile. “That’s okay. I… I don’t think any of us are.”

Gordon snorted. “That’s for damn sure.” 

Tommy was still staring down at him with more tenderness than Gordon was prepared to deal with, “Do…” He paused, licking his lips. Gordon wasn’t embarrassed to say he stared at the motion, “I think I’m done with the party. Do you want to go home?”

“Yeah,” Gordon sighed with more exhaustion than a man his age should feel, “I would love that, bud.”

It took some maneuvering to get them both off the floor without tripping over the chunks of HEV suit on the floor, but neither of them seemed willing to let go of each other more than necessary. Eventually, they made it out of the bathroom, Tommy’s hand warm and solid in Gordon’s own. Dr. Coomer looked up from where he’d been punching apart an arcade machine when they entered the room.

“Ah, hello, Gordon!” He said cheerfully. “You appear to have been peeled!”

“Uh, yeah, Dr. Coomer.” Gordon huffed out a laugh, relieved that that was what Dr. Coomer was pointing out opposed to the fact that his face was definitely puffy and tearstained. “Tommy helped me get the suit off.”

“You look very sporting in your jumpsuit, Gordon!” Dr. Coomer said, returning to his destruction of Chuck E. Cheese property. Tommy smiled down at Gordon, and he was suddenly struck by the realization that the HEV suit had given him a couple inches of height because wow, Tommy was tall. Tommy squeezed his hand and looked up to flag down Gman.

“Hello, son. Dr… Freeman.” Gman greeted them both. Gordon nodded at him. The dude still gave him the creeps, but he could appreciate the parental fondness he’d seen him demonstrate for Tommy over the course of the afternoon.

“Hey, dad.” Tommy gave him a slight wave with his free hand, the other still holding Gordon’s. “I- um, this was a really nice party!”

“I’m… glad to, hear it. I, pulled out all the stops.” 

“I can- I can see that! But, uh. I’m pretty tired. I-... Can you open a portal to Mr. Freeman’s apartment?”

If Gman thought there was anything strange about Tommy asking to go to Gordon’s home and not his own, he didn’t say anything of it. “Of… course. I, will begin to… wrap things up here before, our, friends can cause too much… property damage.”

He gestured to the nearest wall with very little flourish to show them the glowing green portal that hadn’t been there a minute earlier. Tommy gently tugged Gordon in its direction. Behind them, he heard Coomer call out “goodbye, Gordon!” and then in a flash, they were standing in his living room. 

Were this any other situation, Gordon would’ve been embarrassed to show someone the messy state of his apartment without tidying beforehand, but he simply didn’t have it in him to care when his bed was within reach for the first time in weeks. It was his turn to tug Tommy up the narrow stairs and down the hall to his bedroom. They both collapsed on his bed, neither bothering to change out of their bloodstained clothes, which Gordon was sure they’d regret in the morning, but considering he could barely summon the energy to pull the sheets over their shoulders, he decided that was a problem for future Gordon. 

Tommy pulled him into his arms like it was the most natural thing in the world, like this wasn’t the first time he’d ever been in Gordon’s apartment, like they hadn’t met less than an hour before the worst disaster of their lives. Gordon felt the soft flannel of his sheets brush against his skin, and he felt the softness of his pillow under his head, and he felt Tommy’s warm body all around him, and he fell asleep solidly for the first time in weeks.

[the-volume-is-astronomical]

The Crown, The Sword, and The Gay

Meant To Be Good News

A/N: ... heyyyyy- its been a bit. I got rapped up in exams and i felt like being productive today so u get a chapterrrr and i wrote another one so u have about two chapters guaranteed ill try to be more consistent lol (also long chapter as compensation)

(also let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist!)

First | Previous| Next

words: 2286

summary: Virgil doesn't want to deal with this mess but he was sent to deliver a message so, theres not much he can do

pairings: eventual prinxiety, eventual intrulogical, eventual moceit, Remile

warnings: some potty language (not much), stress, anxiety, negative self talk, food mention, worried for a characters safety

(let me know if there's any other)

They went up the steps in silence.

As they entered through the door, Roman grabbed the basket that was abandoned during the argument. He left it on a table near the entrance, he headed towards the corner with shelves, grabbed a brown book, nothing interesting in the cover, just a plain brown book and headed towards the window seat to read.

Virgil was struggling to decide if he should try to speak or not, he absolutely despised small talk but if he didn't talk he didn't want it to get awkward. He looked over to Roman because if he did decide to talk to the prince, what in the hell would he even talk about?! Virgil saw the royal glance up from his book to look at the small table near all the shelves that had a single red book, it was simple like the one he was holding, it just had a title, yet it caused more intrigue than the other.

When Virgil took a good look at Roman he looked somehow defeated, like he had lost- no, given up on a 100 year long fight. The monarch glanced once more at the table with the red book, this time however, he caught a glimpse of the stormy knight, “ You should sit down, the trip back alone takes a few hours, it's gonna be some time before you get to go back.” Virgil looked up at the prince who had resumed his reading, “Uh… yeah” he took a seat near the desk Roman kept glancing at.

Virgil decided to take a glance at the book. It seemed to be a fictional adventure book...seems interesting. Roman looked at the table again and spotted the tall knight carefully opening the book. “It’s an adventure book. Just a fairytale.” Roman’s voice seemed to startle Virgil as he immediately slammed the book shut.

“Y-yeah sorry, I didn't mean to open it without permission, that was so rude of me and-” Roman stopped him mid rant “It's alright, you can read it. One of my personal favorite books.” The prince smiled at him to show he didn't mind “I’m not much of a reader. I just uh… got curious, I guess?” Virgil didn't seem sure of his answer. “Well, I can give you a small summary! If you’d like me to, of course.” Roman backtracked pretty quickly, snide comments about how excited he got over meaningless things forcing themselves into his head. But Virgil’s “Sure, Why not?” Made him a little less apprehensive.

“Ok! So, the story is focused on this boy named Aaron. He is a poor farm boy living with his family in a village that was overthrown by the guards, they became corrupted and betrayed the royal family and took control for themselves.” Virgil just nodded along.

”They treated the least wealthy of the kingdom the worst, they didn't have money to bribe them with so to them they were useless, it got to the point where they were becoming the robbers, they would never steal from people with money because they were cruel people. Aaron and his father wanted to make a change but his mother didn't want them to, she wanted to play it safe and just gather enough money to leave for a better place.”

Roman rambling about the story not realizing how little of a summary it actually was since he definitely wasn't being concise, “I agree with the mom. Her plan sounds safe and effective.” Virgil didn't really mind, at least he wasn't going to be bored while he waited, “Maybe so! But where's the fun in that, dear knight?” Roman didn't really get the knights perspective “May not be fun but at least they'll get outta there without a problem” Virgil thought he was in the right and that the main character would make stupid reckless decisions for the drama and suspense.

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

“Aha! They went back to the mom’s plan anyway! There was literally no need to try and do all that heroic shit.” Virgil was now fully invested in the story, he probably wouldn't have been if Roman wasn’t such a good storyteller.

“Well yeah... But it was worth it! If they didn't try they would have never known the outcome of that situation.” Roman was happy the knight seemed invested, he was mostly happy because he finally got to discuss the book with someone, and that someone had very different opinions than himself.

There was a knock on the door.

They both looked at each other, It didn't feel like they had been talking for that long. So, who in the hell was at the door?

Virgil stood up, hand fidgeting with the hilt of his sword. Roman stood as well, they both walked towards the door. Virgil opened the door, only to find Ruth on the other end of the door. “Oh, it's the lady from earlier.” Virgil turned to Roman as he let her in.

“Nurse, how did you get back so quickly?” Roman spoke up. “I wouldn't say it was that quick, it's been a few hours. But we found someone along the way so that did speed up the process.” Ruth talked as she noticed the untouched basket and started nearing it.

Roman and Virgil on the other hand looked at each other with confusion. It didn't feel like they had been talking for more than half an hour. “I'm sorry, I must have been talking your ear off.” The royal felt a need to apologize, “Hey, at least you made the wait entertaining.” the knight did not deem it necessary.

Ruth turned and glared at Roman. “So, you haven't eaten?” Roman glanced at the untouched basket and cursed under his breath, he completely forgot. “ Well…” Ruth was not having it “You brat.” She walked behind him and started pushing him towards the table.

“I had an excuse!” Ruth stopped pushing him “And what is it?” Roman turned to meet her eye and said, “I get nauseous when I eat too early.” Ruth looked unimpressed “I'm fully aware Roman. But it's almost noon.” Roman’s brain scrambled for another excuse “I was reading and I lost track of time.” She was still very much unimpressed. “As long as it wasn't the book you always read, fine by me”

As Roman’s nurse made sure Roman ate she noticed Virgil standing a few feet behind them. “I wasn't able to introduce myself earlier. I am Ruth, the brat’s nurse.” She extended her hand with a smile. Virgil shook her hand while he chuckled, which was interrupted by Roman’s overdramatic offended noises. “Nurse! You’re making him think I'll be a nightmare to care for!”

Ruth turned to him “Was I supposed to lie to him and tell him you’re a delight? My apologies, sire” Roman put a hand on his chest and gasped. “Now I understand why Trent called you a witch!” Ruth laughed, “You’re just basically proving my point.” Roman could only grumble and go back to eating.

Ruth took a look around the tower and spotted the red book on a table. “I see you've decided to become a liar huh?” Roman turned to her “Whatever do you mean?” She walked towards the table and picked up the book “Seems like someone was reading the same book they always read, I don't understand why they read it if they've memorized the whole book!” Roman knew Ruth was only joking but he didn't appreciate being called a liar “I wasn't reading it this time it was just out in the open! You can ask him!”

Roman pointed at Virgil, Ruth just looked at Virgil expecting an answer, “He wasn't reading that book, he was reading the one by the window” it wasn't a lie. “You better not be covering for that devil.” Virgil noticed there wasn't any malice behind her voice, her words portrayed something different. “Are you accusing me of being a liar? I thought that was reserved for the prince.” Ruth started laughing “Hey! You’re supposed to be on my side!” Virgil just chuckled.

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

Roman’s nurse sat next to the window, looking out worriedly. Roman knew his nurse fairly well, “Has Remy not gotten back yet?” Ruth sighed and turned “My son and his tardiness again”.

Roman went over to his nurse, giving her a hug “I’m sure he’s just a little late..” Ruth tried to smile at Roman “I know Roman. I'm just a worried old hag.” Roman rolled his eyes and sat by the window

Ruth looked out the window one last time and took a deep breath. “Well I have to get going so we get there some time before sunrise” Roman stood up to say a proper goodbye to his nurse. “See you in a few days…” Roman really didn’t want to let go but he didn't have much of a choice.

Ruth started packing what she had brought in silence, once she neared the door she spoke “Roman, his and her majesty will have to be informed about this incident..” Roman was obviously not content because this would surely somehow be put partially on him. “Yes, I understand.” Ruth smiled sympathetically and turned to the storm eyed knight only a few feet away.

“Virgil, you’ll have to stay with Roman for a while longer. Commander Arlott sure didn't expect the need to find a replacement for Trent and truly not a day after being stationed here.” Virgil just nodded, he understood the circumstances and was glad to be able to witness such a sight. “The Commander insisted it would take quite some time to take someone off their post, he insisted he wasn't worried.” Ruth opened the door ready to leave, while Virgil was just trying for the pressure to not get to him.

Ruth said her final goodbyes and exited the tower.

Virgil then turned to the Royal, who went back to the same spot he had been before Ruth arrived, and just stared out the window as his nurse left.

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As Roman sat near the big window just looking out he started wondering why Virgil had even come here in the first place. He vaguely remembered Trent mentioning him being a messenger but that could just be some Knightly insult he was unaware of. So… he asked “Virgil, if you don't mind me asking...why exactly did you come here?” Virgil looked alarmed for a second as he had just zoned out for about 20 minutes “Commander Arlott, wanted me to deliver a message to Trent” Roman just responded with a simple “Oh” and resumed his staring out the window.

“So… how did the book end?” Virgil felt a little embarrassed to interrupt the silence to ask but he got extremely invested, to the point that if the Prince refused to share the information he might just read it himself. Roman just laughed, he knew how intriguing the book was “Well… In the middle of the mother’s plan being in motion they actually got word of a rebel group that had been inspired by their attempts to take the crown back.” Virgil sat down right across from the Royal nodding for him to go on.

Roman continued speaking but he kept getting distracted by a tapping sound. At first it was nothing, but then it got so prominent he couldn't ignore it anymore. Mid-rant he stopped himself and started looking around to see where the sound could possibly be coming from.

Virgil was confused as to why the heir had stopped speaking but then he started to hear taps. They didn’t sound like just a regular forest sound and they would surely not hear minuscule noises from such a height.

“Dear knight, are you hearing that?” Virgil nodded and stood up to see what could possibly be causing the ticks, Roman stood right along with him and then suddenly pointed towards the balcony doors. “Virgil, it's coming from the balcony.”

Virgil stopped to listen carefully “Yeah, but what's causing it?” They then saw a little pebble hit the glass doors of the balcony and make the tapping they had been hearing.

Roman went to the balcony with no hesitation and opened the doors.

Virgil started having his thoughts race a mile a minute, what if this was to lure the prince out to assassinate him? If the prince died on his watch he would be hung no doubt.

As these thoughts crossed his mind, he moved forward to follow the prince. He then quickly realized the prince was leaning over the balcony having a casual conversation with his possible murderer.

“Remy, what are you doing here? Ruth is going to kill you if you don't get there by sunrise!” Roman screamed down to the man in a black cape with dark tinted glasses covering his eyes. “Well yeah! But I had to make a stop here! I have something for you!” That made Roman start jumping with anticipation as to what Remy could have brought him from his trip

“What is it Rem? Is it something fancy? Is it food? Is it a book?” Though his eyes couldn't be spotted, not only because of his glasses but due to the height, it was very apparent he rolled his eyes. “No! It's a letter.” That got Roman even more excited. Could it actually be him? Roman haven't received anything but it could actually be! Finally some good news!

“Who’s it from?!” Remy looked down at the letter as if inspecting it “I don't know.” That caused Roman’s excitement to dull immensely. He would have surely marked it. There’s still a chance it could be him, right? Roman’s anticipation quickly turned into more of an anxious feeling.

taglist:

@meowthefluffy

@shade-romeo

@pattonsmile

@sevencreepycatsinacoat

@mychemically-imbalanced-romance

@innerpostturtle

@queenof-hell

@joyrose-fandomer

@vpow

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

After Each Midnight Begins A New Day

[Extra #5 - @threephasebird requested that the next extra be some Jin Sibs and Xuanli’s horde of children so here it is! This is (mostly) set post-fic, just as 3zun are on their way to Jinlintai to visit at the end of the last chapter]

[Masterpost]

A quick brief on the children’s names and ages:

Jin Ling (金凌 - rise above) - First son, 20

Jin Fei (金飞 - to fly) - Second son, 17

Jin Yu (金雨 - rain) and Jin Yan (金焰 - fire) - First and Second daughters, 14

Jin Zhuang (金 庄  - solemn) - Third son, 12

Jin Lu (金 露 - dew) - Third daughter, 7

Jin Ye (金 烨 - breathtaking/blaze of fire) - Fourth daughter, 3

--

As a young boy, Jin Zixuan had often wondered when he would get a sibling. Everyone else had one, it seemed. The Lan Heir had a little brother. The Nie Heir did too. The Jiang Heir got two siblings which seemed like too many, and even those awful Wen boys had each other. He had asked his mother (when he was still young enough to be innocent of the politics of such matters) when he was going to get a didi or meimei of his own, but Madam Jin had just patted his hair and tapped the tip of his nose with her knuckle. It was too gentle of a touch to ever hurt whenever she did that, of course, but he always wrinkled his nose anyway to make her laugh.

Not long after that conversation, he hadn’t gotten a sibling but he had gotten a Mianmian.

She’s technically his shimei, of course, but that hardly matters to him. What does matter is that Luo Qingyang is nothing like the siblings he had imagined for himself when he had asked for one. For starters, she’s older than him by a month, which she makes sure to smugly remind him of at every opportunity. She’s really really polite to adults but annoyingly bossy to him when they get left alone to play. She’s reckless too, and more often than not Jin Zixuan just ends up pouting and dragging his feet as he follows along behind her wherever she wants to run, using his presence at her side as an excuse to sneak into every family-only part of Jinlintai that she can.

By the time they’re 10, though, he loves her fiercely as the sister he can understand by now that he’s never going to get to have. His parents hardly ever see each other, after all, and while he still isn’t totally sure how siblings are made he’s definitely sure that parents have to see each other more often than a few awkward meals a week for it to happen. It’s alright though, he has Mianmian to keep him company and make fun of him whenever he says something dumb (or yell at his cousins when they try to make fun of him for the same).

As they grow, she’s at his side for every important event in his life, as he is for hers. Every birthday, every New Year’s, every important training milestone they get to share. She’s even at his side for the meeting when they’re 14 where it’s announced that he is engaged to Jiang Yanli of the Yunmeng Jiang. Mianmian laughs for so long at that one once they’re alone that his own crushing panic recedes enough for him to punch her in the shoulder and tell her to knock it off, which of course does as little good as ever.

(To this day he still laughs when he remembers the look on her face when she’d heard he was going to get married one day - the shock followed by quickly-repressed snickers throughout the rest of the meeting that had been mercifully, tactfully ignored by the adults in attendance.)

Soon after they turn 16, they’re both there at the main hall the day that a boy who looks to be close to his own age presents himself at Jinlintai to ask for discipleship, claiming blood ties to...to Jin Guangshan as his reason for coming to Lanling all the way from Yunping, rather than going to the Jiang. Jin Zixan is helpless to do anything but watch on in wide-eyed shock as his father kicks the boy down all those stairs, Mianmian’s shocked gasp at his elbow echoing his own as everyone else in the vicinity watches on impassively. They watch together in fascinated horror from their hiding spot behind a large statue to the side of the stairs as the boy somehow manages to pick himself up off the ground at the bottom and bow to Jin Guangshan at the top of the tower with flawless form, the blood on his forehead and the stiffness in his chest as he bows visible even from where they are.

“Oh no,” Mianmian says softly under her breath when he turns to leave. “Do you think he’ll be alright?”

“Maybe...Hopefully,” he replies, numbly, still reeling from the idea that he might have...a brother? A half-brother? Certainly if his mother had given birth to the boy he wouldn’t have been living in Yunping, he would have been there in Lanling with the rest of the family. Besides, there’s no way Madam Jin had been pregnant with..twins (judging by their apparently similar ages) and he hadn’t known it, or no one had mentioned it. Either way - this boy thinks he’s Jin Zixuan’s brother, and his father has just kicked him down the stairs for it. In front of everybody. It’s..jarring, to say the least.

It isn’t long after the boy’s dejected departure from Jinlintai that Jin Zixuan is forced to confront his own feelings about the rumors of his father’s...exploits. Not that he hadn’t heard snippets of it before, snide comments muttered behind hands and under breaths, but they always seemed..unimportant. Just idle gossip, and Madam Jin has never been anything but perfectly (if a bit coldly) civil to Jin Guangshan in the rare times they’re in the same room. It had always seemed best to follow her example and ignore it, but now...well now there’s the boy who had come to them with an honest request, a valid one, and had been kicked down the tower for it, just for being physical proof of the rumors that had always circulated. He can’t ignore it any longer.

Jin Zixuan doesn’t know what to do about it, of course, and he eventually has to acknowledge that there’s nothing he can do, but that still doesn’t keep him from thinking about it until even Mianmian grows tired of his fretting over it all.

Despite his agonizing over the subject, when he sees the boy again in Cloud Recesses two years later as a retainer with the young Nie-gongzi, Jin Zixuan doesn’t even recognize him at first. He personally feels it’s justified considering the circumstances of the only time he had ever seen him (besides the fact that Jiang Yanli - perpetually trailed by her obnoxious brothers - is proving far more of a distraction than he had anticipated), but Mianmian still cuffs him on the ear for it once they’re in private.

“What are you going to say to him?” she demands at the end of her lecture about it, arms crossed over her chest and that mulish look on her face that he had learned to fear a long time ago.

“Wh-what would I even say to him?” he retorts quickly, horrified at the thorny social situation this presents. He isn’t even good at the normal ones, what is he supposed to say to his supposed half-brother who is living, breathing proof of an extramarital affair, and who has been resoundly refused entry into Jinlintai in such a horrible, public fashion? A half-brother who is, apparently, now a member of the Nie Sect and has gained enough of Nie-Zongzhu’s favor to be sent to Cloud Recesses during the lecture season to look after Nie Huaisang, who everyone knows Nie Mingjue doesn’t trust with just anybody…

Where to even begin?!

(Jin Zixuan also laughs about that now, how scared he had been of his brother and how unimpressed Mianmian had been with all of his arguments on his own behalf. He has never once in his life been good at arguing with her, after all.)

In the end, he’s lucky enough a couple of weeks into their studies to have an opportunity to pull Meng Yao aside and stammer through the apology he had rehearsed over the last few days with Mianmian’s help. He apologizes as profusely as he can manage for his father’s behavior towards him, as well as extends a tentative request that they get to know each other better as half-brothers even if Jin Guangshan won’t like it. None of it is polite or graceful, in fact he knows that some of it is inadvertently uncouth bordering on offensive, but Meng Yao still accepts all of it with wide-eyed surprise and, when Jin Zixuan finally stumbles to a verbal halt, with a small, affectionate smile on his handsome face.

----

He finds Mo Xuanyu next.

Word had reached him by letter one day from a woman in a small village who had finally worked up the courage to attempt to appeal to Jin Guangshan on their son’s behalf, only for her to find out from her sister, the Madam of the local main family, that Jin Guangshan is several years dead. She had appealed to him instead, of course, as the boy’s brother and Jin Zixuan had taken Jiang Yanli to Mo Manor with him so they could learn the truth for themselves.

Mo Xuanyu is...wary of meeting him, which Jin Zixuan doesn’t fault him for for a second. In fact he had expected it, which is partially why he had brought Jiang Yanli along (besides the fact that he also just enjoys traveling with his wife).

He meets with Second Madam Mo and her son in as neutral of a space as he can find - and alone, to begin with. It’s clear within minutes of observing the boy that he’s a Jin even before Second Madam Mo outlines the events that had given her her son. Jin Zixuan does his best to reassure her that Mo Xuanyu will be welcome as a visitor in Jinlintai should he wish to come, that he will be legitimized if he wants to be, and that he will be allowed to train with the other disciples as well whether he wants to be legitimized or not.

He doesn’t do a very good job of explaining it, unfortunately (nor does he think he managed a very good job of inspiring any sort of confidence in him as a leader, which is unfortunately a frequent occurrence without Jiang Yanli or Mianmian with him to help him talk). As is usually the case after such instances, he finds himself pleading with Jiang Yanli that evening for her help. The pair of them visit the Second Madam Mo and her son in their home on the Mo estate the following day, and Jiang Yanli charms them both so thoroughly that Mo Xuanyu agrees to pack his things and come home with them two days later, with his mother’s full support.

It quickly becomes clear once they arrive in Jinlintai and Mo Xuanyu settles into his cultivation training with some of the younger children that while he is a Jin in name (sort of) and looks, he is infinitely.. weirder than any other Jin that Jin Zixuan has ever met.

By now he and Meng Yao have both put in the work to have formed something of a decent - if still slightly stilted - relationship, and so he’s become well aware even in their relatively limited interactions that his brother works hard to be an unfailingly polite and graceful sort of gentleman. And of course he still thinks of Mianmian like a sister even now that he has made her his Second; and while her behavior is much more brash than his own or Meng Yao’s she still knows the rules of society and chooses to follow them whenever necessary. Besides, she’s a Luo, not a Jin, despite being raised pretty much exclusively in Jinlintai. She gets a free pass.

Mo Xuanyu had been cheerful enough during the trip to Jinlintai with Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli  but also on his best behavior, and Jin Zixuan supposes (a bit too late) that being surprised by what has followed is his own fault for assuming that the boy’s nervousness and uncertainty during that trip with two strangers - powerful strangers - was a good representation of his permanent personality.

Long story short - Mo Xuanyu comes to Jinlintai and raises absolute hell.

Jiang Yanli adores him. 

Mo Xuanyu clings to her like a burr in response, soaking up her indulgence and the unfailingly kind older-sister energy that she exudes at all times like he’s been desperate for it, for the gentle love of a woman as incredible as Jiang Yanli. And not that Jin Zixuan had ever planned on going back on his promise to legitimize the boy and maintain his offer of a place for him in Jinlintai, but now he truly can’t even begin to consider it after seeing how excited Mo Xuanyu is to find siblings, nieces and nephews, and friends there.

Jin Zixuan legitimizes his youngest brother in an official ceremony conducted by himself and Meng Yao after the first year of Mo Xuanyu’s cultivation training, once his golden core has formed and he is able to begin his true discipleship alongside the younger students at similar levels of cultivation - Jin Ling and his peers, in fact.

And Mo Xuanyu just...stays. His mother had traveled to Lanling to visit him a few times early on when he could take breaks from his training, but after she passes away Mo Xuanyu declares in the midst of his grief that without his mother there’s nothing and no one in Mo Manor to draw him back, and he becomes a permanent fixture of life in the tower - perpetual wild child Mo Xuanyu, with his insistence on wearing black and red clothing (which he swears has nothing to do with Wei Wuxian but he fools absolutely no one), his absolutely wildly dramatic personality, his equally dramatic makeup, his loud laughter.

He proves himself very quickly to be excellent for irritating the Sect elders whenever necessary, and Jin Zixuan privately enjoys watching the stuffy old men try to figure out how to handle his brother’s...unique brand of flamboyance. Of course he’s usually just as flummoxed as they are, the difference is that he’s very fond of it and they are definitely not.

These days, Mo Xuanyu’s position in Jinlintai is more secure than ever. He’s a source of fun and lightheartedness at family gatherings, he’s an attentive presence during the children’s lessons and he plays with them whenever they would like during their leisure time. He’s a wonderful brother and uncle, in his own way, and a cheerful presence wherever he goes.

He also makes for a good litmus test, of sorts. Everyone who deals with the Jin Sect regularly knows of him by now, and Jin Zixuan has gotten into the habit of making sure to keep a careful eye on anyone who dares to step into his home and speak unduly harshly about his youngest sibling. He learned early on to be wary of how that sort of rigid attitude may negatively impact policies they plan to propose or favors they need to ask. He’s also not above deploying Mo Xuanyu himself to handle them in the most obscenely awkward ways he can devise - and those are many and varied. Jin Zixuan himself had stopped getting embarrassed by it a long time ago out of a sense of self-preservation, but others are not so fortunate.

And that had been enough.

Two surprise brothers plus a Mianmian (not to mention his six brothers-in-law plus his and Jiang Yanli’s four children with their fifth on the way at the time) had been more family than he had ever dared to dream of, let alone knew what to do with now that he had it.

But then, not long after Mo Xuanyu’s declaration at 16 that he will be remaining in Jinlintai for the rest of his life if at all possible, Jin Zixuan and Meng Yao take a short trip together to Laoling Qin to discuss a bit of trade business.

Qin Cangye had very politely requested that any discussions they needed to have with him be held in his own home as his wife was too ill to travel, and with Mianmian to run things in his stead in Lanling for a few days (and as many nurses as Jiang Yanli could ever need to help with the children for the short-term) he had been more than willing to travel to accommodate. He had also been perfectly happy to conduct the business they needed to with nothing that threatened to distract him - right up until their second full evening in the Qin home when Meng Yao had approached him in his room after dinner, unusually serious even for him, and told Jin Zixuan that he needed to listen to something important Madam Qin wanted to tell them.

He had listened to her and her handmaid, and he had believed them, and he had been unsurprised to find himself thinking quite uncharitably of his father following his promise to Madam Qin that he would do everything in his power to make it right, as much as he could.

They return to Jinlintai the day after the next, once their business is concluded. He’s relieved when nothing needs his immediate attention as it means he’s free to retreat into his and Jiang Yanli’s quarters so he can tell her everything that’s weighing on his mind.

“No more surprise siblings from now on,” he sighs into the comfort of Jiang Yanli chest when he’s finished outlining what has happened and his plans to prepare a new suite of rooms in the family wing of the tower. For Qin Su. His sister.

Jiang Yanli just laughs her tinkling laugh and kisses him, her hands gentle as she combs his hair back from his face with her fingertips. “You’ve got more siblings now than any of the rest of us,” she teases with a mischievous smile down at him that is a bit too reminiscent of, weirdly, both Wei Wuxian and Mo Xuanyu for comfort. “Two brothers, a sister, and of course we must keep Mianmian in her spot on the list. If you would like to count brothers-in-law as well you’ve also got A-Xian, A-Cheng, Huaisang, Wangji, Xichen, and Mingjue...”

He groans and hides his face properly in the soft silk of her robes even as she laughs again over his head. 

“Young boys who ask their mothers for more siblings should be careful what they ask for, shouldn’t they?” Another kiss, this time to his cheek, and he accepts it with a sigh. He certainly can’t deny that his misguided childhood jealousy has certainly been made null. He has a much bigger family than he could have ever imagined.

It’s nice to feel that, finally, Jinlintai is full to bursting with people who genuinely care about him, and who he is allowed to care about in return.

----

Most of that happened long enough ago, though, that these days Jin Zixuan actually has some trouble bringing the memories back to the surface at first demand (though he knows that he’ll never truly forget the ways he had come to know - and subsequently legitimize - all three of his biological siblings).

“A-Xuan?” Jiang Yanli calls now from the doorway of his personal office. Her voice is as soft as always, but it’s tinged with his favorite variety of amusement - the kind caused by the mischief of any member of their (enormous) family. He looks up to find her holding a letter from Gusu judging by the distinctive blue, one eyebrow raised and a smile on her lips. “Were you aware that A-Yu has apparently been begging A-Yao to pay us a visit for over a month?”

“No I wasn’t, but I’m not surprised,” he replies with a sigh and a shake of his head. He loves Mo Xuanyu, of course he does, but he will readily admit that the ever-unbridled chaos of his youngest brother still makes him wonder how they’re related even now over a decade into their relationship. “Can I assume that A-Yao and our brothers-in-law have caved to his demands?” he adds with a gesture towards the letter. Jiang Yanli tucks a gentle laugh into the embroidered cuff of her sleeve.

“They have indeed, A-Yu will be so pleased. They’ve asked to spend a while here though - longer than their last few visits have been at least but A-Yao didn’t specify precisely how long they’d like. I’m going to tell them that anything they want is perfectly fine, unless you have a reason not to accept?”

“No, there’s nothing I can think of. Did they say why they want to stay so long? Is everything alright?”

“They didn’t say, but I think they’re fine. A-Yao only says here that they need a change of scenery for a while and A-Chen suggested they travel. I’ll go ahead and send our acceptance, then?”

Jin Zixuan nods and returns to the report he’s reading. After so many years together, though, he knows enough about his wife not to be surprised when she steps further into the room to put a hand on his shoulder and lean down to press her forehead against his temple for a long, quiet moment. He lets his eyes drift shut as he takes a deep breath in of the familiar scent of the lotus-scented oil she wears in her hair and the hint of incense still clinging to her skin from her morning meditation to help strengthen her core.

“I’ll be playing with the children in the garden when you’re finished if you’d like to come find us,” she murmurs against his cheek and punctuates it with a kiss, offering him precisely what he needs after a long morning of dealing with Sect business - both with the affectionate gesture and with the promise of getting to enjoy spending time with her and their children.

He doesn’t mind being Sect Leader of course, and in fact the job is much easier these days than he had ever expected it to be when he had been a young teenager observing the workings of it under his father’s...less than dedicated hand. But he still privately thinks sometimes that he’s much more cut out for corralling his and Jiang Yanli’s children than he is the Jin Sect.

“Make sure Ling-er practices his sword forms, either against a training dummy or the twins if they want to play with him.”

Jiang Yanli’s quiet chuckle against his cheek is one of his favorite sounds in the world.

“You already know they’d love to team up and see if they can finally win against him. I’ll fetch their practice swords in case they want to use them. You’ll join us, won’t you?”

“Of course,” he reassures, turning his head to look up at her and meet her smile with one of his own. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

----

“All I’m saying Li-jie,” Mo Xuanyu posits loudly from the ground where he’s currently buried under a small mountain of gold robes, flailing limbs, and shrieks of laughter, “Is that if you’ve already got seven you might as well go for an even ten, wouldn’t that be satisfying?!”

“A-Yu,” Qin Su admonishes from a bench nearby, not even bothering to look up from her embroidery. “If you think the children need more playfellows I’m sure we could find you a wonderful husband to adopt your own children with.”

“Absolutely not! Can you imagine me as a father? Disastrous. But if you’re offering to play matchmaker I might actually take you up on that.”

“No matchmaking, you two,” Jin Zixuan sighs as he enters the private family garden and joins Jiang Yanli where she’s sitting at the edge of her lotus pond trailing her fingertips through the water and watching the chaos that is their family unfold around her with a beatific smile on her lips. “Please, I’m begging you, our family is already confusing enough and you’ve both promised me you have no intentions of marrying. Since when do you even want to get married, A-Yu?”

“Listen to me very carefully, A-Xuan - ” he starts with a meaningful waggle of his darkened brows, “I look at what A-Yao has, if you know what I mean, and then I look at what I have, and I just think there’s definitely some room for..improvement in my situation, that’s all.”

Jin Zixuan lifts his chin a bit to give his responding eye-roll the best effect he can while Jiang Yanli and Qin Su both giggle into their sleeves and Jin Ling makes a disgusted noise in the back of his throat that carries all the way across the garden.

“Okay first of all, don’t talk about Uncle Jue and Uncle Chen like that, that’s disgusting.”

“Well they’re not my uncles, kid, I can talk about them however I want.”

“Second of all - hey! Quit calling me ‘kid’, we’re the same generation!”

“Enough, you two,” Zixuan sighs to head off the too-familiar argument that Mo Xuanyu is clearly working himself up for with one of his signature borderline-manic grins that makes most Sect Leaders shrink away in fear. “Lu-er, Xiao-Ye let your Uncle Yu get up off the ground, please.” It takes a moment for their two youngest daughters to untangle themselves from where they’ve tackled Mo Xuanyu to the ground but once they’re free they come running to him instead to clamber into his lap, little Jin Ye throwing her arms around his neck and snuggling into his chest immediately as Jin Lu tucks herself into his side under his free arm to start playing with his fingers.

Jin Zixuan sighs again as Mo Xuanyu makes a little show out of rolling to his feet and readjusting his hair and clothes, dabbing at his makeup to make sure nothing has smudged in the tussle. He dusts himself off one more time with a definitive pat before winking and turning his crooked grin on Jin Ling. Their eldest son is waiting for Jin Yu and Jin Yan to get their breath back from their latest bout against him - the twins leaning their weights on their wooden practice swords and clutching their sides - which means that he has no excuse not to listen to Mo Xuanyu’s teasing. (Jin Zhuang, he notices, is sitting on the other side of their sparring circle in a patch of shade cast by a tree and the side of the closest building - well away from the antics of his siblings - to alternate between watching the sparring and practicing his painting on a portable little desk balanced on his knees.)

“Listen to your wise old uncle, Xiao-Ling,” Mo Xuanyu teases, recalling Jin Zixuan’s attention to him and Jin Ling. “You’ll understand when you get to be my age just how nice it might be to have a big strong husband or two to look after you!”

“We’re classmates!!” Jin Ling insists again, beginning to sound desperate as his face goes bright red - though whether it’s out of embarrassment from the teasing about husbands or irritation at being needled about his age is unclear. Jin Zixuan suspects it’s a bit of both.

“A-Yu come help me finish unpacking from my trip before you send our nephew into qi-deviation. I’ll teach you a new huadian to wear as repayment,” Qin Su calls as she stands, graceful as ever. She tucks her embroidery into her sleeve and holds her arm out for Mo Xuanyu to take; he can never resist dramatic gestures and true to form his entire face lights up with mischievous delight, the expression exaggerated by the dark lines of kohl around his eyes, his painted lips, and his rouged cheeks. He bounds over to her to take her proffered arm with a comically genteel air, sweeping her gallantly from the courtyard towards her suite of rooms with such over-the-top fawning that they can hear her sweet laughter bouncing off of the nearby buildings even after they’ve turned the corner out of sight of the garden.

“Dad - ,” Jin Ling pouts, eyebrows drawn down.

“He’ll tire of the joke soon enough, A-Ling,” Jiang Yanli soothes with poorly-concealed mirth before Jin Zixuan can reply similarly. “There are worse things than having an uncle who enjoys a bit of teasing every now and then. Show your father your new sword forms now that you’re warmed up, you’ve been doing so well.”

Jin Zixuan settles his youngest daughters more comfortably in his arms as the twins return to their ready stances against their oldest brother, identical steely glints of focus in their eyes as they resume their sparring. Jin Zhuang brings his painting desk out of the shade to settle in with him and Jiang Yanli now that they’ve created a peaceful center for the family to orient themselves around, and Jin Zixuan feels his chest grow warm with affection as he relaxes into the soothing patterns of quality time with his children.

There are, he thinks, much worse ways to spend an afternoon.

----

Most people, Jin Zixuan thinks, would likely be surprised to find that as wild as their family is, dinners together are frequently calm affairs. Tonight is slightly more raucous than usual as Jin Fei has just returned from the first night hunt he’s led by himself, but it’s still much calmer than any outside observer would have reason to expect from them.

Jin Fei has finished giving his report - with none of the extra boasting that his older brother would pepper into the story were it his to tell - when Jiang Yanli clears her throat delicately for attention, which all of the children dutifully give her.  (Well, except for little Jin Ye, who’s busy clambering into Mo Xuanyu’s lap so that she can smile sweetly up at him to demand he feed her the rest of her dinner).

“We received a letter yesterday from your uncles in Cloud Recesses,” she begins with a soft smile, “and you all owe your Uncle Yu a thank you for asking Uncle Yao to come and visit - they have accepted his invitation and will arrive within the week.”

There’s a general excited commotion as all the children start talking at once - beginning with their thanks to Mo Xuanyu as instructed and then shouting to and over each other as they begin arguing over who’s going to get to spend the most time with them.

“WHAT?!” Mo Xuanyu practically screeches, much to Jin Ye’s displeasure if her pout and hands over her ears are anything to go by. “I’ve been bugging him for weeks and he writes to you to accept?! The nerve! The gall!”

“A-Yu,” Jiang Yanli giggles while Jin Zixuan glares at his youngest brother for daring to be offended by anything involving Jiang Yanli.

“Ah sorry Li-jie, sorry. But Su-jie, back me up! He should have replied to me!”

“Li-jie is Madam Jin,” Qin Su replies implacably with a soft smile at Jiang Yanli. “It is proper for him to address a request to visit us to her before you, and A-Yao always follows proper etiquette.”

“Betrayal,” he accuses with a jab of his chopsticks in her direction that’s firm enough to make the ornaments in his hair jingle. “Betrayal by my own jiejie, I don’t believe this. Xiao-Ye, can you believe your aunts?” He directs the last to the toddler in his lap who’s reaching out for one of his dumplings with a bare hand - he immediately pinches it between his chopsticks to hold it in front of her mouth for her so she can munch on little nibbles of it. “Xiao-Ye is the only person in this family who loves and respects me, I’m stealing her and running away with her to escape your cruelty.”

“That’s not true, Uncle Yu,” Jin Yan pipes up around her next bite, which she quickly swallows when Jin Zixuan gives her a look. “Uncle Xian thinks you’re alright sometimes too,” she teases with that wicked grin of hers and Jin Zixuan has to duck his head to hide a smile at the wounded noise Mo Xuanyu offers by way of reply before he settles in to grumble to himself while he feeds Jin Ye like the little princess she already is.

“Father?” Jin Zhuang says softly from where he has come to stand beside him. Jin Zixuan leans over a bit, away from the table, to make it easier for their third son to step close enough to speak as quietly as he likes. “May I show Uncle Chen my paintings?”

“I think he would like that, Zhuang-er, that’s a good idea,” Jin Zixuan replies in an undertone with a nod. “If you ask him to, he may even paint with you. Have you finished your dinner?” Jin Zhuang nods and steps closer to his side as there’s a sudden burst of laughter from Jin Yu and Jin Yan at whatever Jin Ling has just said. “Would you like to go somewhere quiet until it’s calmer in here?” Another nod from Jin Zhuang which Jin Zixuan returns with one of his own. “Alright, that’s fine. I’ll send Aunt Su to come and fetch you when your siblings and Uncle Yu have settled again, okay? Don’t go far.”

Jin Zhuang offers him a quick bump of his head against his before he retreats, slipping out of one of the side doors to go wait in the quiet of the hallway until things are less overwhelming. Jin Zixuan turns back to the rest of his family who are still discussing what they’d like to do now that they know they’ll have fresh entertainment.

“Do you think Uncle Jue will spar with all four of us at once? We could probably take him out, don’t you think A-Ling?”

“You two couldn’t even beat me and Uncle Jue is like, twice my age!”

“Size, too,” Jin Fei drawls.

“Well we can’t all be Nies, and you’re still shorter than me!” Jin Ling huffs with a punch to his second brother’s shoulder.

“Shut up you two, stop arguing for just five minutes, you’re so annoying. Yanyan is right - four of us together against one, we could do it!”

“You want to fight Uncle Jue?!” Jin Lu pipes up in horror. “Why?!!”

“It’s alright A-Lu, don’t be upset. It’s the same reason the four of us train with our swords together, or like when we practice with dad sometimes,” Jin Fei is quick to reassure while Jin Ling is busy sticking his tongue out at the twins. “It’s fun for us and it’s good training, we don’t want to actually hurt Uncle Jue.”

“He’ll kick your bratty little butts anyway, and I’ll bet he does it without even breaking a sweat,” Mo Xuanyu asserts as he wipes Jin Ye’s face clean with a bit of his sleeve. “There you go sweetheart, all done. Go sit with your mom so Uncle Yu can finish eating.” Jin Ye stands up obediently to come around the table, clamber into Jiang Yanli’s extended arms to settle in the cradle of her lap, and promptly close her eyes.

“He would not!” Jin Ling argues instantly, of course.

“Would so. He’s been training with a saber - bigger than a sword, remember - since he was younger than you and I were when we first touched our swords, Lingling. And A-Fei is right, he’s got height, weight, and bulk on his side. He’ll kick your butts.”

“Well I want to try anyway,” Jin Yu reasserts as Jin Yan nods along beside her. “If nothing else we can turn it into a game to see just how quickly he can beat us, if it turns out we really can’t beat him.”

“Oh that’s a good idea. A-Zhuang could keep score, right? Hey. Where’d he go?” Jin Ling looks around sharply, searching for his third brother.

“You were all yelling so he left,” Jin Yan supplies, talking with her mouth full again.

“Oh. Oops.”

“You can apologize when he comes back,” Qin Su offers before looking at Jiang Yanli. “Li-jie, we should arrange to have tea with just A-Yao at least a few times while they’re here. He needs to catch us up on his gossip and we need to tell him ours.”

“I’m sure he’ll accept, it’s been far too long since the three of us have sat down to talk together,” Jiang Yanli replies, and as if by magic the atmosphere settles again as the children respond automatically to the gentle steadiness of their mother and aunt. “I believe Zhuang-er will be able to come back in now,” Jiang Yanli adds with a pointed look at the children that warns them to keep their calm for the rest of the meal for their brother’s sake.

They all nod and return to eating and chatting at a more reasonable volume as Qin Su rises to poke her head out into the corridor. She returns immediately with Jin Zhuang at her side, his hand in hers until he releases it to return to his seat between the twins.

“A-Zhuang,” Jin Fei says once he’s seated across from him. “We’re sorry for being too loud. If we come up with a game to play with Uncle Jue can you keep score for us? You’re the best at watching and keeping track of what happens while we spar. A-Lu can call out whatever you need to say to us while we play.”

Jin Zhuang takes a long moment to consider this in silence, as is his habit, before he nods once firmly and picks up his teacup to take a slow sip while his older brothers and sisters grin first at him then at each other.

“This is going to be so fun,” Jin Lu gushes with a dreamy little sigh into her soup that makes all of her older siblings laugh, even Jin Zhuang with his silent chuckle hidden behind his hand.

Jin Zixuan looks around the table at their family - loving, loud, wild, and theirs, and, not for the first time nor the last, wonders just how in the world he got so lucky.

----

By some small miracle, he and Jiang Yanli manage to gather all the children and get them looking presentable enough in time to greet their uncles when they arrive several days later. He looks for some sign as they approach that something is secretly wrong to have prompted the visit, but they seem alright at first glance. Of course any closer examination that could possibly tell him otherwise is abruptly made completely impossible when they’re promptly swarmed by all of the children save for Jin Ling and Jin Fei, both of whom are too old to run to them and cling around waists and knees to better clamor for gifts and stories with the rest of their siblings.

Jin Zixuan can only shake his head with fond dismay as he watches Jin Ye immediately try to cling to Meng Yao in between his husbands while Jin Zhuang drifts over to stop next to Lan Xichen so that he can stay away from the main hubbub and still slip one hand into his uncle’s with amusing gravity. Jin Lu studies the three of them for a moment before she decides to hug Lan Xichen first as he’s the easiest target, her tiny arms wrapping tightly around his legs as she clings. Nie Mingjue, of course, is immediately swamped by the twins who flank him to start talking about something with broad gestures - he sees Jin Yan make a stabbing motion after a moment and Jin Zixuan realizes they’re likely talking about their newest obsession - knives. A father’s dream.

“Out of my way brats, those are my brothers!” Mo Xuanyu suddenly shouts as he comes streaking out from the nearest building, practically a blur of black and red aimed straight at Meng Yao who has lifted little Jin Ye up in front of himself in his arms to better listen to her intently as she babbles to him.

“A-Yu!” Jin Zixuan chastises tiredly with a sigh even as Nie Mingjue sticks an arm out to catch Mo Xuanyu in midair right at the last moment before he can barrel into any of the children or Meng Yao, who, to his credit, hasn’t even twitched (though Jin Zixuan is absolutely sure that he knew Mo Xuanyu had been running straight for him). He always manages to forget how strong Nie Mingjue is until he sees an example like that; he hadn’t even jolted when Mo Xuanyu’s full weight had collided with his arm, and while Jin Zixuan won’t ever claim to be attracted to any of his brothers-in-law, he’s also not blind to the virtues of men. He can at least admit that he doesn’t fault Mo Xuanyu for his desire to find someone like that for himself.

“Mo Xuanyu,” Nie Mingjue greets, as gruff as ever with his brows drawn low over his eyes and his expression stony. He stares just long enough to make Mo Xuanyu laugh a bit nervously before he drops him back on his feet to reach down and pick up Jin Lu, who has released Lan Xichen in favor of tugging on Nie Mingjue’s belt and holding her arms up to him in silent request. She settles happily on his hip like she belongs there as he resumes his conversation with the twins, her head instantly landing on his shoulder and one hand curling around the collar of his robes as she snuggles in. 

As always, watching his brother and brothers-in-law interact with the children does something funny in his chest, and just as he’s thinking of reaching down to take Jiang Yanli’s hand next to his to try to do something with that feeling, she slips it comfortably into the crook of his elbow as she lays her head on his shoulder in silent understanding and agreement.

There will be a formal banquet to welcome them later, of course. But for now the only people around are the members of the family themselves and those who have been living and working in Jinlintai long enough to have seen the rather informal comings and goings of every member of the extended family. There’s nothing official about this greeting, just loved ones reuniting. Happy. Together.

Jin Zixuan glances over to Jin Ling at his left when his son nudges him with an elbow only to find him smirking over at him. His son doesn’t even have to look up at him to do it anymore, and Jin Zixuan still can’t quite pinpoint when that happened.

“Tearing up, dad?” Jin Ling jokes, jerking his chin up in a proud gesture that Jin Zixuan will deny having ever been the example for him to learn from until the day he dies.

“You say that like he doesn’t cry every time any of our uncles come to visit,” Jin Fei sighs from the other side of Jiang Yanli. His posture is relaxed enough - he’s got his arms crossed loosely behind himself and his head tipped back as if studying the clouds and his tone is light and easy. The laid-back attitude is only marred by the fact that there’s clearly a teasing smirk dancing on his lips. “You didn’t cry for me when I got back from my night hunt the other evening. Should I be jealous, dad?”

“Boys,” Jiang Yanli cuts in to chastise with all the affection she can muster - which is, of course, quite a lot. “Your father enjoys having everyone home, that’s all. Be good and go say hello to your uncles, I’m sure they’ve missed you.”

They snicker but step away without any further argument, closing ranks immediately to walk across the courtyard shoulder-to-shoulder so they can put their heads together to laugh about something - Jin Zixuan, most likely.

“They look alright, don’t you think?” Jiang Yanli murmurs.

“I do. I’ll ask A-Yao to be sure when I can see him in private, but I think you were right - there doesn’t seem to be anything urgent.”

“A relaxed family visit, then,” she sighs happily, clearly smiling as she nuzzles her cheek a little more firmly against his shoulder and he drops a kiss to the top of her head before she straightens back up again. “It’ll be so lovely to have them here.”

“I’ve missed them,” he admits for her ears alone and Jiang Yanli squeezes the crook of his elbow in silent understanding.

[bestworstcase]

farran rereads lost lagoon: chapters 3-4

- a shot-put ball, according to my cursory research, weighs in the neighborhood of 6-16 pounds. leila howland expects me to believe that princess “hoisted an adult woman 70 ft into the air on the daily with nothing but a pulley and raw upper body strength” rapunzel has a hard time picking up a shot.

anyways

- rapunzel thinks about how she used to talk to herself in her tower when she was isolated (and lonely) but stopped once she came to corona, and this girl looked like she was talking to herself, and it gave rapunzel this weird sense of familiarity! now what in the world could that mean? its so subtle i can’t quite put my finger on it.

again, romance novel.

less sardonically - i will say that tts cass has never struck me as an especially lonely person. yes, rapunzel is quite possibly her first ever close friend, but cass also appears to be on pleasant terms with her coworkers and has at least one or two friendships or mentor-type relationships among the guards (stan and pete). animals in tts are anthropomorphized enough to qualify as humans, and cassandra is unequivocally friends with owl and fidella. she is friendly if not friends with at least one coronan citizen (monty). she’s utterly unfazed by crowley’s crabbiness. she’s able to get along with the pub thugs. in vardaros she befriends vex with ease and makes herself right at home among the citizenry at large. there is zero friction between her and lance - at most she rolls her eyes when he’s being ridiculous. and out of the main cast, cassandra is the one who seems closest to varian in s1 - like, she has actual bonding moments with him. 

THE POINT BEING, cassandra may not have a lot of close friends, but she is nevertheless personable and demonstrates the ability to adapt herself to suit a variety of social environments. maybe i’m projecting here - i have very few close offline friends because my preference for in-person socialization is for it to be very casual - but taken together this doesn’t scream ‘lonely person’ to me. it instead says ‘person who finds social fulfillment in a wide net of friendly acquaintanceships’ and possibly also ‘person who finds close, emotionally intimate relationships worthwhile but very demanding to maintain, and so seldom or never seeks them out.’

this, absolutely, a very subjective reading of her character - it is just as plausible for cass to be someone who is socially competent but feels inwardly unfulfilled until rapunzel comes along. but even in that reading, this implication that cassandra is as deeply lonely, as thoroughly isolated in corona as rapunzel was in her tower is baldly absurd.

- i think i will have more thoughts about how arianna is characterized and the relationship she and rapunzel have with each other later in the story. for now it feels rather mechanical, and like arianna exists in the story to facilitate cassunzel happening.

- cassandra comes across to me like she has an anxiety disorder written by someone who doesn’t quite know how to convey how that feels? she catastrophizes: what if rapunzel thinks cass attacked her? will she get in trouble? but then she stops to make snide comments about rapunzel’s security detail ‘[falling] down on the job’ and concludes with an impressive amount of certainty that rapunzel isn’t going to make a big deal of it, after all. that… isn’t how anxiety works?

then, immediately, she finds a note from her father scolding her for slacking off—making it clear that she is indeed in trouble, like she feared—and her response is to scoff and throw it away. zero concern about being in trouble. zero worry about the consequences she might face for refusing the pointed “offer” of being rapunzel’s lady-in-waiting. like… this isn’t anxiety. i’m positive it’s meant to convey anxiety, but it comes across as cassandra just being… melodramatic and rude and grumpy. like a teenager. it’s unpleasant. and it bears very little resemblance to tts cass, who expresses a clear and consistent anxiety regarding the security of her job and the looming threat of a convent.

- secondly: “Friedborg reported that you missed your afternoon duties AGAIN. Please be advised that this is unacceptable. The queen is looking for a lady-in-waiting to serve Princess Rapunzel. It would be a great opportunity for you, and you must show the queen how prepared you are to train her in the ways of the court.” i am 100% convinced that howland thought cass was rapunzel’s age or younger. if friedborg is effectively cassandra’s direct supervisor, and she is reporting absences to cassandra’s father instead of addressing this with cassandra directly, the only explanation that makes sense is that cassandra is not of legal age.

- “Ladies don’t wield weapons, lead military strategy meetings, or race on horseback. Ladies do needlework, flower arranging, and hairstyling.”

sighs.

i am not going to argue that corona, in any incarnation, isn’t culturally sexist. it is. there are no women in the guard, no women in trades, no female business owners in the vein of monty or xavier or feldspar. besides rapunzel and arianna - who as the monarch’s spouse has very little in the way of actual political power - there are no women in the upper echelons of the government. besides cassandra, the only gnc women around are criminals. cass is denied even a chance to join the guard for no evident reason, even though her father allows eugene - a man he openly despises - to take the tests and then begrudgingly hires him when he passes. no one sees an issue with this, even though cassandra is demonstrably overqualified.

however.

howland makes this cultural sexism explicit text, and she does so in such a way that it implies something pretty horrifying about the already pretty horrifying corona-saporia unification backstory.

i am talking, of course, about general shampanier. you know, the female saporian general whom herz der sonne married when the two kingdoms were unified. the female saporian general who personally dueled der sonne for hours, according to under raps. the female saporian general who, forget military strategy meetings, led an entire goddamn army. i will accept the possibility that shampanier did not ride horses, because rapunzel’s return suggests that saporians have some sort of cultural objection to that. but this book predates rapunzel’s return by a large margin, and it isn’t canon anyway, so odds are the general shampanier of this story rode a warhorse at some point or another in her illustrious career of being the general of an army!!!

this woman - general shampanier - became the queen, the wife of arguably corona’s most historically important king, at a defining moment in coronan political and cultural history. tts and lost lagoon would both have us believe that this was a romantic, peaceful union between two people and two nations, but a few hundred years later - this. ladies don’t fight. ladies don’t belong in the war tent. ladies don’t ride horses. cass takes these things for granted as facts of life. but general shampanier did all of those things, and she did them extremely well, and she became corona’s queen.

WHAT HAPPENED?! WHAT HAPPENED TO SHAMPANIER’S LEGACY?

how did corona go from a warrior-queen to this, in just a few hundred years? the most plausible answer is that the background radiation of sexism and, perhaps, anti-saporian bias was powerful enough to unravel any cultural impact she may have otherwise had, deep enough to render her an outlier, an aberration, an exception to the rule that women do not act like that.

even arguing here that ‘lady’ specifically means ‘noblewoman’ doesn’t add up - because, again, general shampanier became THE QUEEN. you don’t get more noblewoman than that!

it feels unfair to judge this book with details added in season 3—such as the fact that shampanier is evidently not buried with herz der sonne—but this total lack of a cultural impact from general shampanier, queen of corona, feels very telling even without taking those tidbits of extra-textual information into consideration.

and good god, saporia hasn’t even properly entered the narrative yet! this is only the tip of the proverbial iceberg!

*deep breath*

moving. on.

- continuing the theme of cass being a child larping as a guard recruit: she has a closetful of weapons which she maintains to the exacting standards of the handbook, but skips out on her job to “train” in secret because evidently she’ll do ANYTHING to get on the guard except, you know, demonstrate a modicum of responsibility with the job she has now.

- moreover while i think cartography is a neat hobby for cassandra to have, it… doesn’t make a lot of sense if it’s part of some nebulous plan to ~prove herself worthy~ of being on the guard. like, cartography straight up isn’t a relevant skill, and while knowing the countryside could certainly be helpful for guard work in the event a criminal goes to ground in the wilderness, it’s like… it’s like if i applied for my current job, which is in software/tech support, by focusing an intensive amount of energy on teaching myself spanish. fluency in spanish is a useful skill and one that i could turn into an asset within the bounds of my current job, and it might be the deciding factor in me getting hired over someone else with equivalent experience and skill in computing and tech support (which is what the job involves) because, yes, some of our clients are ESL spanish-speakers. but it’s—there’s a disconnect. if i were in a tight competition to get this job i would be pouring my time into sharpening my programming skill and polishing up a portfolio of relevant work. i wouldn’t be devoting hours upon hours to learning spanish. right?

on the other hand—if cartography is a hobby cassandra is passionate about, and she’s 16 or 17 or 18 and she really likes the idea of being on the guard and really feels like she can do it and is bored with her dumb teenager job and desperate to get her dad to make her a guard without actually grasping what being a guard entails or the kind of work it involves or what she actually, realistically needs to do to have a shot, then… yeah, skipping work to play pretend with her weapons and convincing herself that her favorite hobby is totally going to prove to her dad that she’s ready to be a guard!!! makes perfect sense. it’s no different from tts varian tunnel visioning so hard on this fantasy of ‘i’ll surprise my whole village with hot running water and then my dad will be proud of me!!!’ that he neglects basic safety measures and accidentally blows the whole system up. it’s not realistic. it’s a fantasy. it’s play.

- the only time cassandra brings up eugene’s criminal past in tts is to mock him for being a loser. like. literally. the plot of fitzherbert pi kicks off when she calls him a “two-bit hood” and then when he fires back that flynn rider was a LEGEND!!! she fires back “key word being was. and… what is it you do now?” and that’s the only time she brings it up. granted this is 6-7 months into their relationship but… still, frankly i never got the impression that “former thief” was anywhere close to the top of cassandra’s list of reasons for hating eugene. he’s just a dick. she doesn’t like him because he’s a huge selfish jerk and she warms up to him after her starts behaving better.

- rapunzel goes to the ty lee school of flirting. just… laugh really hard at everything your crush says even if it’s not funny.

- despite my… intense and rapidly growing dislike for how cassandra is characterized in this book, her experiencing an actual physical reaction when rapunzel enters her space without permission is good. it’s about the boundaries. it has always been about the boundaries, and rapunzel crossing them, and the intractable messiness that arises from that.

- in fact: how many times does rapunzel cross boundaries in just this one little scene? oh, let me count the ways!

1 - when cassandra goes to shut the door, rapunzel ducks under her arm to enter the room. (eugene attempts to enter as well, but cass succeeds in blocking him.)

2 - missing or ignoring cassandra’s first “go away” hint about only playing individual sports.

3 - missing or ignoring cassandra’s second “go away” hint (“I let the silence get awkward.”)

4 - arranging cassandra’s invitation to the feast of elodie the great with the captain beforehand, so cass can’t use him as an excuse to decline.

5 - missing or ignoring cassandra’s obvious discomfort with this news, taking cassandra’s attendance at the feast as a done deal, and skipping straight to asking cassandra to sit next to her.

6 - in response to cassandra’s very diplomatic signal of not wanting to do that (“I sit wherever I’m assigned”), she declares that she’ll make sure cassandra is assigned to sit next to her.

7 - touching without permission, which makes cassandra flinch.

all of which results in cassandra making what she considers to be a “tactical surrender.” and then shutting and locking her door, because she feels so rattled. as i recall, lagoon is actually a lot mellower on the boundary violations front - and rapunzel actually learns better over the course of the story, which is probably the biggest reason that lost lagoon is not canon and cannot be canon to tts - but it feels worth writing this sort of thing out because, well. it is one of the dead horses i keep clobbering.

[wavesofinkdrops]

Reclaim

Read on AO3

FenHawke (Dragon Age), Rated: M

"Elves’ ears are the target of much derision from people across Thedas − Fenris knows that. So it's surprising to him when Hawke, on the other hand, can only find delight in them."

A/N: Sorry for the extensive notes at the start, this does need to be said first! Okay so, number one: HELLO! It's been forever, I know, I haven't written fic in at least over a year, maybe more. So if you're still here, welcome back! If you're new to my works, I hope you enjoy any you find! Now for a first disclaimer: I have not played a single Dragon Age game. I hope there's no glaring mistakes in plot or characters because of this, though. Small (more serious) disclaimer on the actual content of this fic. I'm fully aware that much of the comments and discrimination faced by elves in DA is linked to what indigenous peoples face. I am not Native American, and I am not North American in general. I have read up on and stayed up-to-date on indigenous politics relevant to me as well as those of the States, but I can't guarantee my discussion of the themes involved is perfect. I'm not going into my personal identity, so please do not ask about that. If there is something I could have dealt with better or differently, please let me know! I'm happy to grow, but I will not take personal questions. I've tried to deal with the topic in a way that is respectful, with Fenris reclaiming features he's been shamed for his entire life. At the end of the day, I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing this!

Warnings: Mentions racist comments, internalised racism, and some mildly suggestive content. Overall, though, this is fluff and learning self-acceptance. Without further ado, enjoy!

Fenris knows humans don’t like elves’ ears. They consider them strange. Unnatural. It’s likely why all of the insults and slurs aimed towards them usually have something to do with said ears. He’s heard all of them in all their forms, at this point, so they really don’t phase him—he’s learned to ignore them.

He’s learned to accept he will never be considered on the same level as humans because of such a small feature as his ears. He’s learned all of it over years of living in Tevinter as a slave, and even later as things he’s had to face across the rest of Thedas. Just because Tevinter is the only place where slavery is openly admitted and accepted hasn’t meant it’s much better elsewhere.

And Fenris thinks Hawke has noticed it. He wouldn’t necessarily call it embarrassment over them, they’re just perhaps not his favourite part of himself. They’re not what he wants others to notice first about him, but of course they do. But Hawke has noticed this resignation, this quiet shame.

Hawke’s persistence in ensuring Fenris knows just how much he loves his ears is thus entirely surprising.

That’s why he’s confused when they’re lying in bed and Hawke traces the pad of his thumb across the shell of Fenris’ ear. His movements are gentle, and when Fenris looks at him the only thing he can see is easiest described as love. There’s a small, thoughtful—almost lost—smile on Hawke’s face, his eyes as if admiring instead of disparaging or even curious. Fenris lets him.

That’s when another finger accidentally tickles behind his ear, and Fenris lets out a small noise. Hawke’s eyes widen.

“They do that?”

Fenris furrows his brows in confusion. “Do what?”

“Your ears just… flicked.”

Fenris blinks at him. “Yes, sometimes they do that.”

At that, Hawke’s face lights up with a wonderful smile. Fenris adores that smile—it’s one he sees whenever Hawke has found something entirely delightful. Usually, though Fenris would never admit he noticed it since the thought flusters him, it’s a smile always directed at Fenris.

“Can I do it again?” Hawke asks quietly, now propped up on an elbow, his hand cupping Fenris’ jaw.

Fenris can’t help it when some of his bafflement slips into his words. “Yes?”

It’s not long before Hawke’s fingers are behind his ear, and gently move against the skin. It lightly taps against a nerve, and Fenris’ ears flick again. “Maker…” Hawke whispers. Before Fenris can ask what Hawke means, Hawke’s gathered him into his arms again and pulled him against his chest. “And just when I thought you couldn’t get more perfect.”

Fenris doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just remains quiet. He’s too confused to even notice the blush that spread on his cheeks.

———

It’s another while before there’s another “incident” with his ears. Calling it an incident is perhaps a bit too ominous, but Fenris isn’t too sure what else to call it. So incident it remains.

He’s reading a book, trying to wade through every slow and difficult word, but refusing to back down until he’s finished the chapter. He’s reading out loud to Hawke, which despite the initial embarrassment of stumbling over every word, becomes easier with every step. Voicing the letters helps give them more life.

Hawke suddenly interrupts him. “Fenris.”

Fenris looks up in confusion, certain he’s made a mistake somewhere. Or perhaps Hawke is tired out for the evening. After all, he’s read this children’s story twice already, at least until they find another book for him to read through.

Hawke just smiles, that soft, unbearable smile, one Fenris doesn’t know what he’s meant to do with. “You’re beautiful when you concentrate.”

That takes Fenris by surprise. It seems only to delight Hawke further as he sits up, his smile brightening further.

“Pardon?”

“You’re stunning when you concentrate.” Hawke reaches over, taking a hand between his own. “The way your brow furrows, your nose lightly scrunches when you make a mistake, the determination in your gaze?” Fenris stays silent, not knowing what to say to that. “And even moreso when compliments take you by surprise. Your ears perk up, as if you just… want to pay attention to every second of every word you’re being told. And then they droop gently, when you’re blushing.”

“I hardly blush,” Fenris insists, though the certainty of the words falters even in his own ears.

Hawke kisses the inside of his wrist, a motion that Fenris will never tire of. “None of this is a bad thing. They’re all parts of you—things I love about you. All of them.”

Fenris gives a small huff, accompanies it with an unconvinced smile. “Even my ears?”

Hawke’s unabashed honesty makes the breath catch in his throat. “They’re one of the best parts of you.”

Fenris finds he has no words, after that.

———

They’re in bed again, Hawke presses him deeper into the mattress. The dinner they shared with the others got languid, so they excused themselves and instead headed to a more secluded location to continue the game that had been going on between Hawke’s hand and Fenris’ thigh under the table for the better part of an hour. So now, Hawke’s mouth leaves his own, peppering kisses across his jaw, his cheek and—

Fenris moans, louder than he expects—louder than he’s ever heard himself moan. His hand comes to cover his mouth, his cheeks warm from surprise and arousal. Hawke draws back, a wolfish grin on his face. With any more clarity of mind, Fenris might’ve thought it ironic that it’s Hawke who plays the wolf.

“I’m sorry, you caught me by surprise—” Fenris starts, hand moving from his mouth to cup Hawke’s jaw in an apologetic motion.

Hawke shakes his head. “I don’t want you to apologise, Fenris.” He presses a chaste kiss to his lips. “I’ve never seen you just… let go like that. If you enjoy yourself, why not let yourself do that?”

Fenris thinks about it for a second, but can’t come up with a reasoning. “Neighbours?” was the half-hearted attempt he gave it.

Hawke laughs, a deep rumble in his chest. “Be as loud as you’d like, Fenris, that’s what we’re here for.”

Hawke moves back in, slowly but gently teasing the shell of Fenris’ ear with kisses, before actually lightly nipping at it. Fenris lets a whimper escape at that, the motion making him incredibly aroused. Hawke continues, drawing out various noises as he teases and kisses and bites at his ear, his neck, his jaw. It goes on forever, and Fenris is almost begging him by the time they get to the main act.

Well, maybe he can yet be convinced his ears aren’t awful.

———

He’s tempted to go about it with a fork and a wall. Somewhere, sometime he’d heard that’s an effective enough method to pierce another’s ear. On the other hand, Anders informs him it’s inadvisable, which normally would only have encouraged him. But when Anders describes the potential failures of the plan he takes his suggestion to do it the proper way.

So instead he finds himself sitting on a kitchen stool, Anders passing a needle through a sterilising flame. He’s never been a fan of needles, and it probably has something to do with the ritual that branded him with lyrium, despite his few memories of the event. Anders tells him to lean his head, and Fenris does. With no warning, the needle pierces through the lobe, and Fenris hisses—though he admits that Anders’ lack of warning means it’s over before it really even began. Isabela walks in, a pouch in hand.

“Found some jewellery for the pretty elf,” she announces with a grin, dropping the pouch on the table. “All of them polished and primped and cleaned, don’t worry,” she assures Anders at his look of concern.

“Well, that’s good. Could you pass me a suitable earring, then?” She does, and Anders finishes sanitising the piercing before inserting it.

Anders steps back. “It doesn’t look half-bad, I’ll admit.”

Fenris resists the urge to make a snide remark at Anders, remembering he’s still helping him. He stands, and goes to the small mirror they brought over for him to check his appearance in. The small gold ring in his ear looks… really good, even if he admits so himself. It almost feels… well, like he’s taking back something he’s been taught to dislike.

And hoping that Hawke will appreciate it too makes it all the better.

He turns to Anders again. “Next one.”

Anders raises an unconvinced eyebrow. “We already did one, is that not enough for the day?”

Fenris returns to the stool, shaking his head. “I wanted two or three, in total, so hopefully I can count on you to finish the job. That way I don’t have to ask Isabela to pick up a fork and stab my ear with it. I heard it works—”

“Alright, alright, I do not want to hear Hawke’s rage if he finds out I let you do that. I’ll do two more, then. And we hope they don’t all get infected at the same time.”

“The only reason I’m even here, mage, is because the only thing I just about trust you for is being good with medicine.”

It’s Anders who rolls his eyes, Isabela eyeing the banter in amusement. Anders continues with the process, each time cleaning and sterilising and Fenris hissing with lack of preparedness. In the end, there’s a golden ring at his lobe and one near the tip of his ear, next to a small glittering stone. A chain links from the stone to the lower ring, and altogether, for the first time in his life he finds himself liking how his ear looks.

He can’t wait for Hawke to return.

———

It’s perhaps another two weeks before Hawke returns, and the piercings have begun healing well already. Anders, for all his faults, was a decent healer.

Fenris is there to greet Hawke when he comes back from one mission or another, but he’s taken out the earrings for now. Instead, Hawke kisses him and Fenris welcomes him back, before quietly telling him to prepare for a surprise that evening.

Hawke’s intrigue is obvious on his face, and Fenris just leaves it at that before heading to his own tasks and business. Before long, dusk washes over, and he heads to their bedroom to find where he put the jewellery. It’s only been a few hours since he took them out, but Anders had warned him not to keep them out too long for fear of the holes closing. He puts them back in, before sitting into the armchair in front of the large window, facing away such that when Hawke enters he won’t immediately see the ear in question.

Fenris hears the door to their room open, Hawke humming some tune as he walks in. There’s very little the man does quietly, though Fenris appreciates that—it’s difficult to spook someone when you can be heard coming from a mile away. He’s grateful for it, whether it’s a habit or he’s just picked up on doing it from noticing Fenris prefers it.

Hawke walks over to Fenris, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“So, what’s this mysterious surprise of yours?”

Fenris grins to himself, before standing and facing Hawke as he draws him into a gentle kiss. Then he smiles up at the mage, before drawing slightly back from his face, tilting his head just so that Hawke would immediately notice.

Hawke’s eyes drift to the golden ornaments, before widening and his hand coming up to feel the rings and chain there.

“You did this while I was away?”

Fenris hums. “I wanted to surprise you. You like them so much it’s almost contagious, and I wanted to do something to make them… look nice. Plus,” his grin turns mischievous, “I hear they can also assist other ways.”

Hawke laughs. “You… you are amazing and full of surprises, aren’t you?” He observes the jewellery some more, fingers flicking the chain and Fenris’ ear flicking in return.

“They’re still somewhat sensitive, so gentleness is advisable, but soon enough they’ll be fully healed.”

Hawke merely shakes his head, smiling broadly, drawing Fenris into a kiss. “I didn’t know you could get even more beautiful,” he whispers, tugging Fenris even closer than he already is. “And here you are, doing exactly that.”

“I’m glad you like them, then,” Fenris says softly, hands tracing Hawke’s shirt.

“And I’m glad you do, as well. I want to cherish every part of you until you come to love all of them.”

Fenris shakes his head but can’t help the way warmth spreads in his heart at those words. Perhaps Hawke knows already just how much it means to him. And if his intentions are any indication, perhaps he knows even better than Fenris did.

[peaceoutofthepieces]

So I’m aware that it’s @azozzoni’s birthday, and as you’re captain and the reason I write VDS fics in the first place, I wanted to show my appreciation. You have literally even inspired this fic, which is based on this gif set. Happy birthday 💕

~^~

Lucas has definitely been sulking. 

Jens doesn’t think he’s spent this much time hiding out in his room in the eight months since they’ve moved in. The shared house has been unusually quiet. It feels unbearably empty to Jens without the other’s bright presence. Sitting in the main room with their other roommates just leaves him bored and mildly uncomfortable, with a jittery leg and constantly-tapping fingers and a feeling like an itch he can’t scratch. Listening to them drone on about their latest hookup or the next house party or their least favourite professor on a nightly basis is making him tired. It’s making him restless. It’s making his gaze and his mind wander to the hallway more often, up the stairs and to the room at the end, urging and begging his feet to follow. He isn’t sure whether said room is still off limits. He doesn’t know what the limits are now. 

It had taken four months. Four months of knowing each other. Four months of living together. Four months of sitting just a little too close. Four months of staying up together, finishing assignments last minute or winding down from them. Four months of progressively heated glances. Lingering touches and knowing stares. Flirtatious jokes and teasing comments. Denial and dawning understanding. Acceptance and action. 

Four months after meeting, after becoming friends and learning each other slowly, they’d crossed that thin line between friends and something else. Not quite boyfriends. Nothing like boyfriends. Still friends, but with benefits. 

It’s a situation Jens has never imagined himself ending up in. He wouldn’t consider himself a romantic, but he’s a lover, and despite the few drunken one night stands at the anxiety-ridden beginning of his college career, he doesn’t do sex just for sex. Even after Jana, he’d tried to recuperate by finding himself another *relationship. Someone to care about. Someone worth more than a one-time thing. 

Which makes Lucas a kind of in-between. Jens isn’t sure what they’d been thinking, that first time. He hadn’t been. He’d fallen into Lucas in a trance, mesmerised by the tempting curl of lips, the softness of his hair under Jens’s fingers, the miles of smooth skin being revealed to him inch by inch, the smothered gasps and pants escaping like a prayer next to his ear. He hadn’t been thinking about what they’d do in the morning, what they’d do even an hour later. But from the first second, he’d known deep down that it couldn’t be a one time thing. 

Instead, it became something repetitive and unspoken. It didn’t leave the safe confines of their rooms, even to escape into the rest of the house, regardless of whether they had it to themselves or not. It was something private and secret, something they wouldn’t even let themselves contemplate outside of the times they returned to each other. 

But the thrum of heat in Jens’s stomach had turned from interested to familiar quickly. When Lucas shot him his smirk over the table. When he gave Jens’s hair a gentle tug as he passed by the couch. When his gaze turned dark and wanting in an instant and he casually left the room with not even a gesture for Jens to follow. They didn’t need to communicate it. There was no doubt when they wanted each other. 

It didn’t feel like a dangerous game, until Jens started wanting Lucas to stay. Until those few moments of post-coital bliss became what Jens craved most. When Lucas would lie sated and soft at his side, curly hair mussed and lips slick against Jens’s as he pulled him into one more heated, drawn-out kiss. It didn’t feel like a dangerous game until Jens felt like he was losing. 

Until Lucas had told him, “I think we should stop,” and he’d felt like his chest was cracking open, just to allow his heart to burst out and toss itself into the abyss. Lost and untethered without Lucas’s oblivious ownership. 

Jens only realised his mistake two months in, when Lucas found someone he actually cared about. Someone worthy of his attention outside of the bedroom. Someone he wanted to date. 

It had taken barely over a week for Lucas to feel comfortable enough to bring this new guy home, and no more than a minute for Jens to decide he hated him. 

Benjamin. Benji. Lucas’s boyfriend with the perfect hair and the perfect teeth and the personality of a rock. 

Not only was he boring as hell, but an awful boyfriend. Monopolising all of Lucas’s time. Giving him ‘rules’ (no Jens in his room). Making snide remarks (the party can’t be that exciting if Jens will be there). Draping himself all over Lucas (in Jens’s presence). 

Jens wouldn’t have minded if Lucas was happy. He wouldn’t have. (So he might have, but he would have accepted it.) He would’ve been quiet about it. He wouldn’t have made Lucas feel bad. He would have been supportive. A good friend. 

But he couldn’t ignore Lucas’s continuous, growing absence. He couldn’t ignore the tired sighs, the tense slump to his shoulders, the smile that no longer reached his eyes. He couldn’t ignore that the Lucas in front of him wasn’t the Lucas he’d come to know, wasn’t Lucas when he was happy, when he was truly allowed to be himself. 

So he might have said something about it. 

“He’s an asshole, Luc. Maybe he’s not the worst guy in the world, but that doesn’t make him a good one. Why can’t you see that he treats you like shit?”

Lucas had snapped back, “Why can’t you mind your own business?” 

“Because I actually care about you! Because I see what’s happening, and it’s not you being happy, and I don’t fucking understand why you won’t wake up and realise you deserve better.”

“And what counts as better? Who? You?”

Jens had stopped pushing after that. He had scoffed and shouted some more and slammed the door on his way out, of course, but he hadn’t pushed. If Lucas wanted to be an asshole too, then Jens couldn’t stop him. 

He could just find subtle ways to push Benjamin out and keep an eye on Lucas in secret. 

He was mad, but he was nothing if not loyal. He wouldn’t abandon Lucas when he needed him. He’d just work through his own feelings while giving the other the silent treatment. 

He’d just wait it out. 

Now, he’s done his time, and Lucas is holed up in his room with a possibly broken heart. Along with that, there still seems to be a sign on the door that points directly at Jens and reads ‘KEEP OUT’, in brilliant bold letters. 

Maybe it’s self-centered, but he can’t quite help feeling like Lucas’s silence and absence is specifically directed at him. It seems obvious to Jens that Lucas is avoiding him like the plague since he broke up with his boyfriend, and it seems that the rest of the house and their friends have noticed. They’re simply choosing to stay silent. 

Jens is getting really tired of this silence. 

Cas (the quietest, most pleasant member of their household), knocks his knee against Jens’s before cheerfully saying, “Hey, Luc.”

It’s enough to knock Jens out of his daze in an instant. His head snaps up in just enough time to catch Lucas’s lips turning up in a tiny smile. He greets Cas back quietly as he passes through the room, walking behind the couch opposite Jens with an empty glass in hand. He doesn’t spare Jens a glance during the short trip, making his way to the kitchen and back without any further interaction. He walks past Jens twice and doesn’t even blink. 

Cas knocks his leg against Jens’s again. 

Jens gets up and follows Lucas. 

He stands in front of the door and listens for anything but silence on the other side. There’s nothing that Jens can use as an excuse, no evidence that Lucas is busy or has a reason to ignore Jens. He takes a steadying breath before raising his hand and knocking lightly on the wood. 

Silence. 

He presses his palm to the door and takes another breath. He’s done with the silence. He’s done running away. “Luc, can I come in?”

He’s granted with more silence. Still, he stands his ground. He’s been waiting for two months for Lucas to come to his senses. He can wait a little longer. 

Sooner than Jens expects, Lucas’s voice resonates through the wood. “I guess.”

It’s not the most reassuringly enthusiastic response he could’ve gotten, but it’s more than he’s received in a while. It’s enough to get him moving, to get him opening the door slowly and slipping inside. 

The room is exactly the same as Jens remembers. The mismatched art prints and posters hung on the wall, a mix of merchandise and Lucas’s own work. The drawing supplies and textbooks stacked in the corner, a skateboard leaning against them. The single photo frame on the nightstand, holding an image of all his friends from back home that Kes had gifted him as a ‘joke’. The unframed photo propped up next to it, an image of Jens and Lucas taken on Lucas’s camera the first week they’d moved in, carefully developed but wearing around the edges. 

“You put it back up,” Jens notes. 

Lucas is sat in his desk chair, sketchbook open in front of him on a blank page. A handful of pencils lie on top. One is still clutched between Lucas’s fingers, unmoving. It makes a quiet thump as it lands against the paper when Lucas releases it, swiveling around to follow Jens’s gaze. He doesn’t respond to Jens’s statement, but gazes quietly at the photo with an expression that, at first glance, appears entirely blank. 

Jens knows better. He can see the exhaustion and the acceptance underneath. Beyond that lies the nerves. 

He walks further into the room, but maintains a safe distance. He doesn’t dare sit down. Not quite yet. He considers his options. Tries to settle on an approach. He isn’t the best at delicate, but he can do gentle. It seems unfair to say ‘I told you so’. It seems even more unfair to make it about him. It seems most unfair to senselessly avoid the topic. He isn’t going to get anywhere with small talk, and he can bet Lucas sure as hell isn’t going to let him stick around if that’s the best he can come up with. 

He needs to get straight to the point, but he still needs to get there carefully. 

“You’re spending a lot of time stuck in here. The rest are starting to think you don’t like them.”

Lucas simply shakes his head. He finally meets Jens’s gaze. “They know I like them fine.”

Jens purses his lips and gives a slow nod. “Okay. And...me?”

Lucas watches him carefully. “The verdict’s still out.”

They’re beginning to return to slightly more familiar territory. Jens can see it in the way Lucas’s posture changes, going from closed off to relaxed in a short, subtle roll of his shoulders. He can see it in the challenge that has slipped into Lucas’s eyes, accepting Jens’s bait and urging him on. He can see it in the slow but sure uptick of Lucas’s lips, a smile barely beginning to play on his face. 

Jens wasn’t sure he’d be forgiven so easily. He wasn’t sure if he’d forgive Lucas. But the tension between them is not the lingering remnants of a fight. It isn’t the heavy weight of words left unsaid and others they can’t take back. It isn’t what Jens had prepared himself for. It’s much more familiar than that. 

Jens very carefully does not smile back. Not just yet. “So, what? Are you still upset about the break-up?”

Lucas stares at him. Jens wishes he had those fancy mind-reading powers. He wishes he hadn’t had to take a break from improving his Lucas-reading powers. 

Then Lucas’s smile widens. Just slightly. 

He leans forward with a sigh, resting his elbows on his thighs as he looks up at Jens. “No. You were right,” he admits. When Jens raises a brow in question and surprise, he finishes, “He was an asshole.”

Jens is not smug. Smugness is not an attractive trait. So he isn’t going to be smug. He is pleased that said asshole is gone and he is pleased that Lucas has seemingly come to his senses. He isn’t pleased that Benjamin was enough of an asshole to make Lucas realise it. 

He averts his gaze, shrugging his shoulders as he shakes his head slightly. “I didn’t want to be right.”

Lucas is shaking his head even before he’s done, smile beginning to come out in full as he argues, “Shut up, you definitely did.”

Finally, Jens finds himself smiling back. He licks his lips and admits, “Okay, maybe a little.”

“I knew it.” Lucas is fully grinning now, and Jens isn’t sure what’s happening. He isn’t sure what to think. He isn’t sure what Lucas is thinking. The only things he’s sure of is that he’s very glad they’ve taken this turn, and he very much wants to just pull Lucas into his arms and kiss him. 

Instead he moves to sit on the bed, knees a few inches away from Lucas’s. He doesn’t know where to go next, but he knows he can’t let this opportunity pass. He knows he has to keep this moving forward. Maybe in a new direction altogether. “So, if you’re not upset, why are you constantly hiding out in here?”

Lucas sighs and half-turns back to his desk, picking up his pencil and tapping it on the arm of his chair. “Well, I was upset. And I have a project due in a few days that I’m a little bit behind on.” He looks at Jens again. “And I might have been avoiding you, a little.”

Jens swallows. “Right.” When Lucas only continues tapping his pencil, he tries to go on. “I’m sorry for getting pissed at you. That wasn’t the way to go about it. I just wanted you to see that he...that you deserve better than him. But I get it, it wasn’t my place, and I had no right to—“

“If I ask you something,” Lucas cuts him off, “will you answer honestly?”

Jens hesitates. He licks his lips again. “Depends on the question.”

“Were you jealous?”

He should have expected this, really. He also shouldn’t be surprised that he doesn’t have an answer. “No...it didn’t have anything to do with me. I want you to be happy and you weren’t. You deserve someone who makes you happy.”

“And you wanted that to be you.”

“Well, is it?”

Lucas stays silent. Jens hooks his fingers in the arm of the chair and turns Lucas around to face him. He puts one hand on either side of Lucas, caging him in, silently asking him to look at him. “You seemed happy then. When we were...whatever we were. I haven’t seen you like that since. That has to mean something, doesn’t it? Weren’t you happy with me?”

He waits, but Lucas still doesn’t answer. He is, however, maintaining eye contact. He isn’t admitting anything, but he isn’t running away either. He isn’t backing down. 

It’s what probes Jens to say, “I have a question for you now.”

“Didn’t you already just use it?”

“A question you actually have to answer. Two, actually.”

“Now you’re pushing it a little.”

Jens just raises a brow. Lucas quiets. Jens rolls the chair closer towards himself. “Did you break up with him? Or did he break up with you?”

“I broke up with him.”

Jens smiles slightly. “Okay. Question two: why?”

Lucas considers him. “He wanted me to move in with him.”

That isn’t exactly what Jens had expected. It was nowhere in the realm of expectation, in fact. His chest clenches painfully at the thought. He can’t imagine Lucas leaving. He can’t imagine he would’ve let him. But, still. “Okay...I’m actually not seeing the asshole part to this.”

Lucas leans forward. “He wanted me to move in with him so I wouldn’t be living with you.”

Ah. Now they’re reaching an understanding. 

“So, he’s actually the jealous one,” Jens realises, mildly gleeful. “I could’ve told you that, though. I knew he was being a dick to me specifically.”

Lucas rolls his eyes and flops back in the chair. “Yes, it was always about you, congratulations,” he mocks. 

“Seems that way.” 

Jens grins as Lucas scoffs, opening his legs to reel the chair in that little bit closer. The line has disappeared miles behind them at this stage, already crossed long ago, and they’re moving further and further into uncharted territory. Jens wants to keep going. All the way, if possible. If Lucas is willing to go with him. “So you broke up with him because you couldn’t bear to leave me, is that it?”

Lucas kicks at his leg half-heartedly. “You’re annoying, you know that?”

Jens shakes his head. “I don’t think you find me annoying.”

“Ahh, denial.” Lucas smiles at him for a moment. Jens is ready to reach out and pull him in the rest of the way, but he isn’t done. “I broke up with him because it got to the point where he didn’t even like me. Where I wasn’t sure if he ever did. It’s like, he was just with me as some part of stupid competition with you. That you didn’t even realise you were a part of. He asked me about you so many times, made all these stupid comments, and I told him that he was being stupid. But he was right. He saw it even though I was trying to ignore it. And in the end I broke up with him because he wasn’t you.”

They really should have gotten to a point where Lucas couldn’t surprise him anymore. He’s seen all of Lucas, in the emotional sense as well as the physical. He’s seen him at his best and at his worst. In the time Jens has known him, he’s made it his mission to get to know every part of him. He’d thought Lucas could never do anything more surprising than kissing him that first time. Then he’d thought it wouldn’t get more surprising than a hand slipping into his pants. But this floors him in a way none of that ever had. This is an admission of more than simple attraction. This is taking it to another level. 

This is all the way. 

“That was a bigger speech than I expected of you,” Jens says eventually. 

Lucas’s expression is incredulous. Then he huffs. “You wanted an answer,” he shrugs. “Am I allowed another question?”

Jens furrows his brows and nods.

“Are you going to kiss me, or am I going to have to do that myself as well?”

He doesn’t need to ask that twice. Jens sweeps forward and kisses him softly, gentle, the way he’s been wanting to for the past two months. Lucas’s hands find their way into his hair, curling tightly in the strands. The breath he lets out against Jens’s lips is relieved. Jens grips his waist and pulls him forward, trying to get closer and ending up with a knee knocking a little too close to his groin. Lucas laughs and detaches himself long enough to stand and climb into Jens’s lap, matching Jens’s grin before dragging him into another kiss. 

“For the record,” Jens gets out, minutes or hours later into the breath of space between their mouths, “this doesn’t mean I was jealous.”

Lucas stops kissing his neck long enough to shoot him another incredulous glance. 

Jens kisses his nose. “I had you first. I knew I was going to get you back.”

[ohvalleyofplentyyy]

request

I was wondering if I could make a request with jaskier and geralt?

I really love the innocent shy reader stories and I wanted to request something maybe where the reader is a very sensitive person emotionally and the boys freak out slightly and make a super harsh comment after reader screws up during a hunt, maybe they accidentally blow up on her for putting herself in danger and getting hurt, but they end up making her cry or hurt her feelings in the end then end up feeling really bad when she starts to distant herself, not really talking to them on they’re trips and ignoring them

A/N: What a fantastic prompt, this really gets the writing juices going!

She always put her heart before her head, feelings and emotions seem to overrule and logical ideas and sense that came to mind because if she felt in her heart it was the right thing to do– she was damn well gonna do it.

The boys knew this as her nature and always took it with a grain of salt, knowing to not press certain buttons that could result in catastrophic results. But one night, Geralt just snapped.

It had been an easy mission really. A small village that sat near a lake had been experiencing ‘problems’ with fishermen going missing and the occasional child taking a dip to cool off but never coming back. The trio had been passing through when Jaskier overheard a group of drunken men exclaiming, “I’m not gonna catch me one more bloody fish until that thing is gone!”

After a bit of asking around, the Witcher deduced that a Vodnik, or Drowner, was the reason for these killings. Y/N made quick work with the pub owner that if they killed the water creature they would be rewarded. The group set out that night to take a “lovely boat ride in the moonlight while awaiting our doom,” as Jaskier grumbled on the walk to the water’s edge.

The huntress-in-training chuckled at the bard’s statement and turned to Geralt. “So how are we going to do this?” She asked, pulling her cloak tighter around her. He grunted, “There’s not a we in this situation Y/N, I’m just going be in and out as fast as possible.” Y/N lower her eyes and hummed, “Look Geralt, I know I’m not as experienced with this species of monster as you are, but this of it this way, it could be another lesson?”

Y/N had joined the two after a horrific war broke out between two mages in her town. Her mother and younger brother were in the market square when the first spells had been fired, and well, Y/N didn’t make it in time. With no one and nowhere to go, she somehow convinced the ‘Great Geralt of Rivia’ to take her under his wing as a sort of apprentice, given that she didn’t get in the way. (Also, Jaskier had been very excited from the idea of a girl accompanying them.)

Training had been going very smoothly for the past 6 months and Y/N was itching to get some action in the field, but Geralt didn’t seem to think her mind-set was ready for it yet as she acted mainly from impulse and not strategy. “I won’t have you die from a snide comment inside your head tell you it’s time to be a martyr Y/N, it’s not sensible.” Geralt had said a while back. Still, she wanted to help and it was starting to get to her that the only thing she’d killed or used her sword for was hunting game.

Geralt shook his head at her question, “Not a chance, you’ve only been practicing on land and now I’ll be in the water at night, I can only focus on so many problems—” “Hey!” “—in the moment.”

The conversation subsided and they reached the lake. It was beautiful at night, the moon glistened off the surface and a gust of wind made ripples in the water, making it seem like the reflection was dancing.

There was a long dock that stretched out into the water, boats hooked to the right side of it in the water, leaving the left stretch of wood for fun times in the summer heat. It creaked underneath their shoes as they came to a stop.

The Witcher started taking off pieces of armor and items that would only weigh him down in the dark liquid of night. Soon all he had on was his billowy grey tunic and the black trousers and boots that he always wore. Tying his hair into a small bun, he turned and said, “Hopefully I can lure it to the coastline so at least I won’t be underwater the whole time.” With one quick swig of his potion, the hunter’s eyes turned black, grabbed his sword and dove into the water.

The bard tsked and muttered something along the lines of ‘of course his dive is effortlessly perfect’ and leaned down against one the wood poles, strumming his lute and listening to Geralt’s movement in the water every so often.

Y/N stared out at the lake when it seemed like nothing was happening any time soon, she took her cloak and travel pieces as well, not wanting to carry the weight while she waited. She dropped the satchel and co. deciding to take a walk along the beachline where this fight was hopefully about to take place.

All of a sudden, Geralt emerged from the water with the Drowner in a chokehold. It was a slippery battle between the two as they sloshed in the water, Y/N was frozen on the bank watching this happen, she could hear Jaskier in the distance running over across the sandy ground.

But then the Drowner somehow got a hold of Geralt’s shirt and flung him over into the liquid below. She acted in an instant, running out into the water and holding her sword ready to strike.

Sloshing towards the creature ready to drown the Witcher, she called out, “Just because you’re constantly pruney doesn’t mean you need to take it out on others!” The monster turned at the noise and grinned, deciding that this smaller person would probably be a good appetizer before the main course.

Y/N swung her sword down across it’s legs, dodging it’s arms that tried to wrap around her. The long gash now to Y/N’s surprise didn’t bleed at all. But then the upper hand was lost when the monster reached out and snatched the sword right from her hand, grabbing the blade like it wasn’t cutting into its palm. The Drowner grabbed Y/N by the throat and shoved her underwater, holding her to the soft sand below.

Y/N struggled, hands around the arm holding her down. This is it, she thought, the moment I die by trying to prove myself, gods what an idiot I am. But then the hand was ripped away from her neck as something above had taken the Drowner by surprise.

She pushed up out of the water immediately, gasping in desperately needed gulps of air. She was able to see Geralt with one fast chop, cut the head off the monster, letting the body go limp and fall into the water. He wadded over to her, scooping her up effortlessly and walked back to shore. Jaskier was there pacing on the beach line.

“Y/N? Geralt is she breathing?!” The bard worried, racing to the Witcher’s side as soon as possible. “She’s fine,” he huffed and dropped her on the sand, now with a glare on the drenched girl before him.

“What were you even thinking?! I told you I would handle it, and you go and get yourself almost killed?!” The Witcher shouted, jabbing a finger into her face to emphasize the situation. “Geralt, I’m sorry— it’s just it looked like you needed help and—“ “Sorry? Sorry doesn’t cover it!” The monster hunter laughed, throwing his head back and then turned, a look on his face that seemed, dangerous.

“I can’t believe I was stupid enough to think a person like you would amount to anything, let alone be a logical hunter.”

Hurt flashed through her eyes, and she shrank into herself. “You don’t think Y/N, and I can’t waste my time on someone who’s just going to get themselves killed on their first hunt.” The girl turned to the bard, who had been quiet during the argument at hand.

Shakingly, she stood up, “Do you agree, Jaskier?” She said with a small voice. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, looked down at his hands a mumbled, “It’s not that you don’t mean well, it’s just sometimes your decisions affect us as well and mostly in a bad way.”

Y/N stumbled back, her bottom lip quivering slightly. They don’t trust me, they never did.

…

The next few days went by in slow motion, Y/N hadn’t spoken to the two boys since their declaration.

The trip through the dense forest almost seemed too silent, usually Jaskier and Y/N would be dancing around the large burly man they both adored, singing all the bard’s song until Geralt threatened to snap his lute and use the pieces as fire kindling. Every twig break under one of their shoes seemed to make the tension worse.

Geralt had made no move to try and apologize and deep down, Y/N knew he never would. And that in itself made her swallow into herself more.

Jaskier had been trying to talk a bit to her, any time a conversation was had about other kills, he tried to look to her for feedback, but all he got was a blank stare.

Only one thing kept repeating in her mind.

They don’t trust me, they never did.

And they never will.

A/N: I didn’t know if you wanted a happy ending or not so I chose to leave it and could add to it if you want a redemption part added! thanks for the idea!

master list

join my taglist here! (its a google form)

[ikesenlemonadestandstories]

Level 10

It’s FEBRUARY! Are you guys ready for Valentine’s Day? Cuz I am! Hope you’re all enjoying this story! It’s been a lot of fun to work on!

Tagging: @loudartanimeeclipse​

Master List here or check the tag Ikesen AFK

Warnings: In a hospital, mentions of an OR - I kept it pretty clean

Happy Reading! T~

Level 10

You had never been so agitated in your life. What was even happening up in the OR today? Seriously, sure it was behind, that was normal. Procedures never went on time, and the later it was on the schedule, the more likely it was to go late. You knew that but what was that nurse’s problem? It’s like she had been toying with you all afternoon! First, she called you at one to tell you to get up and set up, so you kindly asked if you were still going last or if they had moved your procedure ahead of the others. She got snippy and said, “Why would we do that? Are you going to come set up?” You kindly told her, no, that’d you’d wait until you were fifteen minutes from your procedure start time to come set up. 

She obliged and called you just shy of four-thirty to say that you were next, and the flex bronch would be done in a little under twenty minutes. Perfect. You took your time, walked up to the OR, and changed into your surgical scrubs before heading to OR19. You waved at Dr. Tokugawa when you remembered he couldn’t see the smile under your surgical mask, he returned the gesture with a nod as he continued to scrub down at the wash station. 

Once the both of you finally made it into the OR, you noticed your crash cart had been pushed up against the back wall, and a C-Arm was moving in. The poor surgical tech from radiology walked up and bowed deeply. Proclaiming how sorry they were but they had to cut ahead of your case because “Dr. Kenney was the only radiologist on the floor today and with the procedure as far behind as it was he needed to go so he could make his next case on time.” 

After a charged stare and a few snide comments, Dr. Tokugawa conceded, meaning you would likely be waiting at least another thirty minutes. Which was all dependent on how long it took to get the port in and accessed. The straw that broke the camels back, though, was when the nurse called you a fourth time to tell you that they forgot to call you and that they needed you in the OR right away.

After a mad dash to the room and you barely managing to squeeze into your gloves with your sweaty hands, you realized not only was the port not assessed yet, but your orders hadn’t been released, and nobody had even bothered to call Dr. Tokugawa again. 

With a sharp look at the nurse, you pulled up the patient chart on the computer and released the orders. “I can go grab those! I’ll be right back!” A PCA squeaked as she scurried out of the room and down the hall to the main desk. Clearly trying to avoid as much conflict as possible. 

With the C-arm being wheeled away, and the radiology team finishing up their final hold point it was finally your turn. Too bad nobody could do anything until your doc got here. Not like it was his fault he was behind though. So you’d get ready everything you could while you waited for him.

“Is everybody ready?” Dr. Tokugawa remarked as he stepped in through the sliding door a few minutes later and picked up the packet of sterile gloves. 

“They better be.” You huffed under your breath, just finishing the last part of your tray set up.

He chuckled and turned to the other PCA, who was still in the room, gesturing towards the patient. “I’m going to need you to hold them.”

She nodded in response, and Dr. Tokugawa used that as his cue to start the timeout and begin the procedure. He was always so quick. Most of the time, it took longer to anesthetize patients than it did to do the actual procedure. He was clearly in a hurry, done with the collection in two minutes flat.

“That’s a new record.” You smiled with your eyes and finished capping your syringes. Happy that there was a light at the end of this long tunnel. 

“I’ve got places to be. Since everyone insists on keeping me here all evening today, I figured I’d at least try to help my case.” Dr. Tokugawa said as he cleared the sharps from the tray and shucked his gloves. 

“I feel that. I was supposed to meet a friend at five-thirty, and that’s clearly not going to happen.” You sighed as you disposed of the empty tray and wiped down your cart. “I don’t have their personal contact info either, so I feel bad cuz I’m just going to show up late. I hope they’re still there so I can at least explain myself.”

“Do you have to run those when you get back to the lab?” he lifted an eyebrow and pointed at the specimen bag in your hands.

“No. Fortunately, not.” You said as you exited the operating room and untied your surgical mask. “Our pathologist said it’s not urgent, so as long as we do it first thing in the morning, we’re good.”

“That was nice of him.” He acknowledged as both of you walked towards the main desk. “Enjoy your evening then; hopefully, your friend is understanding.”

“They don’t seem like the patient type, but you never know.” You smiled and waved before pushing into the women’s locker room to change out of your scrubs. “Enjoy your own evening Dr. Tokugawa.”

“Ieyasu.” Was all he said before the door shut behind him. 

“Ieyasu.” You said to no one, in particular, a small smile on your face. 

[acraftedmistake]

A Person Who Has Never Played MCSM Writes A Story About MCSM Chp. 4

Thank you all for your patience! I was so caught up with school stuff (then had to go a week without internet connection rip)! So with all my free time I wrote about double the amount of words I usually wrote per chapter (about 9 PAGES in google docs DANG)! It was gonna be even LONGER but I’m saving that for chapter 5!

Thanks again for your patience! And I hope you enjoy the chapter!! <3

It had been half an hour of walking It didn’t feel that long to Jesse and Olivia, who were too preoccupied with discussing their current situation, but Aiden and Rose felt every one of those thirty minutes. If they weren’t walking beside each other in an irritated, wordless manner, they’d start talking with each other, which would quickly develop into an argument, which would then result in them giving each other the silent treatment. From a bystander’s point of view, Jesse wasn’t necessarily sure if they were progressing or even reached an agreement at any point, but Jesse was hoping that the two of them wouldn’t act this way during the questioning--wouldn’t want that to be awkward. Jesse turned to his friend who was stressing over what had happened in the last hour; the shrine, the carving of the man, Aiden’s attitude, it all seemed like a lot for her at the moment. Olivia had been rambling incoherently, her words merging together as she spoke at a ridiculously fast rate. Jesse had tuned out Olivia’s maunder while observing her; Her eyes darted around as she tugged a lock of her thick black hair with one hand, gesturing with her other hand, moving it about so much that Jesse thought it’d snap off. “... Maybe I’m just overreacting but do you see where I’m coming from? Jesse?” Olivia quickly asked, her voice cracking a little. Jesse stared at her blankly, trying to recall what topic they were going on about, he looked down in embarrassment and opened his mouth, contemplating what to say when Olivia let out a defeated--and worried--whine. “Were you even paying attention?” “It’s not that--I’m sorry I was just keeping an eye on Aiden and Rose, I kinda got lost in my thoughts.” Jesse shoved his hands in his pockets as his ears turned red. Olivia folded her arms, hugging herself, she shook her head “No, don’t be. We’re both worried about this whole... Mess.” Jesse looked ahead, they were getting closer and closer to the town with each step, though it was quite a challenge to properly examine it. From what Jesse could make out, the town looked like a big, black rectangle with a vague gate shaped structure in front of it, a few tips of buildings were peaking above the structure, but that’s about it. The once colorful sky was consumed by hues of dark blue with white specs scattered about; the moon was full, bright and brilliant, acting like a spotlight for the four; had it not been for that, the town would be nearly invisible in the night’s sky. Breaking the moment of silence, Jesse spoke up, “Sooo... Any theories on where we might be?” he kept his eyes on the sky. Olivia tapped her chin and clicked her tongue, “Well, from what we’ve seen so far--and what we’ve experienced--there’s not too much to work with. At first, I thought we just entered a portal which lead to another temple in our world, but- OH JESSE!” she shrieked, Jesse’s heart stopped for a split second, Aiden and Rose stopped walking and spun around. Jesse felt Olivia grab his hand while he felt his foot reach out, landing on absolutely nothing. He brought his eyes down as the weight of his body leaned forward, mere inches from walking straight into a ravine. The fracture on the world’s surface seemed bottomless, the lava and waterfalls that spewed from the sides would keep running down till they were engulfed in the abyss which hid the ground of the chasm. And while Jesse couldn’t see it, his mind was filled with images of hundreds of monstrous spiders and rotting corpses roaming about, He heard desperate gasps--his own heavy breathing--as Olivia slowly pulled him back to her side, a few feet away from the ravine. Clutching his chest with his hand, he felt himself shake like a leaf, staring at what could’ve been his grave with wide, white eyes. “You okay?” Olivia asked, carefully placing her hand on her friend’s shoulder. Jesse nodded once and mouthed the word “thanks”, he took a couple more steps back before continuing their walk towards the town, remaining close by his friend’s side, the vision of the ravine’s drop still fresh in his mind. “Come on Aiden, we’re almost home.” Rose said; Aiden felt his body relax, his jaw unhinged. He was about two meters away from Rose, he must’ve started running--or at the very least, speed walked--to help Jesse, it happened almost on command; he didn’t even need to think about it, which might’ve been why he didn’t notice. “... Right.” Aiden hesitantly turned back to Rose, taking big heavy steps that’d hit the ground with a thud, not making any other sound. Rose, without even glancing at Aiden, asked “You still have some sorta soft spot for him?” in an unamused tone. He didn’t say anything at first, but soon grumbled “I didn’t want Jesse to die before he got back to our place.” Rose, not knowing whether Aiden was upset at himself or at her, decided not to ask anymore questions. Pushing her glasses up, the two of them walked in silence once again. ~~~~~ “JEEZ, that had to have been the eighth rivine we passed by tonight! It’s ridiculous,” Olivia’s head turned towards Jesse’s near death experience. “So- as you were saying?” Jesse attempted to ask in a casual manner, his heart still pounding in his chest, Olivia looked at him, bewildered. “You almost died and you want to continue our conversation?!” “Would you like to hear what your life flashing before your eyes is like instead?” Olivia hesitated, “Uh... Not yet.” Adjusting the oversized leather jacket covering her body, she backtracked and mouthed the bits of their previous conversation that she could remember until a lightbulb went off. “So there’s not too much to work with right now, but my best theory right now is that we’ve found another portal that lead to Sky City. That could explain bits of how Aiden’s acting, he wasn’t happy to see you but he didn’t... Want to... Stab you?” she shrugged uncertainly at her duff attempt at adding humor to the explanation. She glanced at Rose then back at Jesse, “And it’s the only way I could think of who Rose is and why she’s with Aiden. Maybe when everyone left Sky City and started their new life on land, the two met and bonded?” “But Aiden had Gill and Maya, those two would follow him everywhere like puppies. He wouldn’t ditch those two for someone else!” Jesse pointed out, “I know, but there are so many other possibilities, it’s hard to pinpoint an exact answer.” Olivia’s shoulders drooped as her fingers tapped against the leather sleeve quickly, producing a continuous pattering sound. “Maybe Obsidian Town will give us some answers.” Jesse suggested in an effort to give his friend hope. She chuckled, “I just hope they don’t wanna kill us on the spot.” “Alright you two, buddy-buddy time is over, we’re getting close to the town, we’re gonna need to hold your hands--arms again.” Rose announced, her voice echoing throughout the empty field, she leaned over to Aiden and whispered, “There HAS to be a word for the way we hold it.” “What, why?!” Jesse asked as he kept an eye on the girl with glasses, the moon’s light shining on her pale face, the broad man right by her side. “Because-” Before Aiden could start, Rose cut in, “Because unless you want to get an angry horde of people coming after you--OR make our lives much harder, you have no better option.” Jesse caught a glimpse of how far they were from their next location, and it was safe to assume they were only a five minute walk away from the town’s main entrance. He could make out much more of the place than he did before; a tall, dark wall stood proud and most likely surrounded the town, stretching on for--give or take--half a mile. Two, thin watchtowers were on both ends of the wall with dim lights shining from both of them, barely lighting their surrounding area. There was a large arch shaped gate made up of stone and wood; bits of houses and other buildings could be seen. He brought his attention back to Rose and Aiden, who were getting closer to them. Jesse felt himself instinctively take a step back as Aiden approached them. “Fine but,” he clasped his hands together, “Could you not hold it as hard as last time?” “If you make it easy for us, sure. And you know what?” Rose’s tone took a more optimistic, but clearly mocking, tone “If the idea of Aiden holding your sensitive hands bother you so much, I can do it instead!” Without giving Jesse a chance to respond, she forcefully spun him around and grabbed his wrists, her sharp nails digging into his skin. Jesse gritted his teeth and cringed, holding back the urge to say anything in fear that she’d only shove her nails even deeper into his arm. Aiden took notice of Rose’s little interaction but decided against the idea of commenting, not wanting to spark another argument. He turned to Olivia, who already put her hands behind her back, though her body was facing away from the tall man, her face was tilted ever so slightly to see Aiden from the corner of her worried filled eyes. “Alright, let’s go.” Aiden said as he carefully held Olivia’s wrists together; his grip loose enough that Olivia thought she could slip out of his hands--but that was just a thought. Jesse took the time to get a better look at the front of the town’s large gate, which appeared to be in perfect condition, almost as if it were never used. His eyes drifted towards the thick walls and let out a tiny gasp. The entire thing was made out of “... Obsidian...” he mumbled. He heard Rose make a snide comment under her breath. Brushing aside Rose’s commentary, he noticed that they were slowly leaving the dusky, grassy land, as two beams of bright light coming from the top of the gate--most likely from glowstone--shone down upon them. Jesse squinted, looking up at the top of the gateway, he was able to make out the silhouette of two people, but he was unable to decide whether those were guards keeping watch, or just people who happened to be hanging around. Admittingly, Jesse was looking forward to seeing Obsidian Town and its residents. “Put your head down.” Rose ordered, pushing him down with great force, not giving Jesse the chance to react. A bit of Olivia’s hat covered one of his eyes, he wished he could shift it to a more comfortable position, but all he did was sigh to himself as he stared down at the dirt path below them. Olivia, not wanting to get the same treatment as her friend, zipped her head to the ground. The dirt path ended abruptly at a wooden bridge underneath the gate that overshadowed them and hid the light; after that, the floor underneath them was concrete. Jesse could hear the footsteps of citizens roaming about, conversations in the distance, doors opening and closing. As they kept going on, there’d be the occasional “Hello!” to Aiden and Rose, they seemed to be pretty well known--even liked--in this town. No one had said anything to or about Olivia and Jesse, but he could feel all eyes on them, locked onto them like hawks, but there was nothing that could be done except to continue walking in shame like a criminal being escorted to jail. From what little Jesse could make out, the place gave off a friendly feeling; people out in the evening, the streetlamps giving the area a nice, calm lighting, hopefully him and Olivia will get the chance to explore the site. “I don’t think we took too long in there, did we?” Aiden asked Rose, who thought for a second before shaking her head, “Couldn’t have been more than an hour, maybe a little bit less if you exclude the walk to and from the shrine.” “Hopefully the others didn’t get worried and wander off,” he twisted his head at the gate, eyeing the flat land they had walked through.. She shook her head, “No,” she pushed up her glasses, “Gill, maybe, but I’m sure they’re still waiting. Now let’s hurry up, I don’t wanna-” Rose’s talking came to a stop as she let out a quiet, but elongated groan. “Great...” Aiden brought his attention back to the path in front of him and perked up, holding Olivia with one hand, he waved, “Oh, hey Radar!” Jesse froze, he felt his heart pounding in his chest, a weird sense of relief washed over him, thankful that someone who actually liked him was here. Footsteps approached the four, Jesse wanted to see his good friend, glasses and all, but he kept his head down, only able to see Radar’s black, oxford shoes. “Aiden,” Jesse heard Radar’s high pitch voice began, “Ro-” “We’re not on that level of friendship yet, Radar.” Rose stated coldly, adding an icy glare to complete the sentence. Halting for a moment, he folded his arms and continued “Sorry, Cassie... Rose. Moving on,” Radar kept talking, but his words blurred together, everything became muffled and Jesse felt his palms get sweaty. The nails digging into him no longer bothered him, his heart was pounding in his throat as the sound boomed throughout his head. Cassie Rose--a murderer who despised him--was holding onto him, they’ve been interacting this whole time, and he didn’t notice the red flags. His body tensed up, he wanted to rip his arms out of her grip and knock her down, maybe run, but he was sure that doing so would make the situation far worse. Jesse tuned back into the conversation, trying to take his mind off of the reveal so he could remain calm. “... I’m glad you two didn’t take too long at The Shrine of Eyes; when I heard that a green glow was seen, I knew something terrible had happened. What did you find?” what Jesse found peculiar about Radar was, despite sounding like the prelude of a flute, was very monotonic, never shifting from its flat tone. “We didn’t have a chance to see the portal activated, but we DID find these two kids who apparently snuck in.” Aiden nudged Olivia along and started walking, Jesse and Rose soon following behind, “We’re gonna question them with the others.” Radar got close to them, specifically close to Jesse, he leaned close to him, “Do you believe they’re--” Rose shoved the black haired man away, catching him off guard as his glasses slipped down his nose, “Nope. Not apart of the group. We gotta go now.” she gave Jesse a light kick in his ankle, making him speed up just a bit more, “Rose is right, see you tomorrow.” Aiden added, not looking back at Radar. “But how can you be so sure if-” “GoodBYE, Radar.” Rose ended sternly, leaving him behind as he watched them walk away, confused. After traveling roughly a block in silence, with both Olivia and Jesse’s minds racing all over the place, they began slowing down, approaching a three story house, its shape resembling an octagon. The walls were mostly made up of birch wood with spruce planks--probably--dividing up each floor of the house; double doors were front and centered, with small windows on each side. There was another large window in the middle of the house, a faint light from the room shone through the glass, with a couch and small table visible, but that’s all that could be seen for now. The third floor had a window in the center as well, but it was noticeably smaller and had no light source, looking more like a void than anything else. The roof was also made of spruce wood, parts of it hung off the edge, a cobblestone fence at the top. There was also a nice cobblestone fence that was surrounding a small portion in the front of the house, the front yard decorated with a small handful of tulips, lilacs, and roses. Two glowstone lamps were on each side of the house, a good 5 or so feet away, the group stood underneath the lamp on the left side, talking amongst themselves. “We don’t know who’s where in the house,” Aiden started, “Or who’s even there.” Rose added, “Right, so the best thing to do is to call everyone down and just break the news to them.” Aiden turned towards Olivia and Jesse, “I’ll signal you two when you can come inside, it shouldn’t take too long.” Olivia responded with a “Got it!”, while Jesse nodded, albeit a bit sceptical. Aiden and Cassie Rose began heading towards the front door, the redhead faced them, “Don’t move from this spot.” she pierced through Jesse’s eyes, “If you run off, we’ll find you.” she continued walking, but her eyes were still locked onto Jesse, unblinking. The two stood in front of the spruce double doors, discussing something as Olivia and Jesse watched in the distance, the redstone lamp feeling more like a spotlight than a street light. Jesse lifted his head to get a chance to look at a small portion of Obsidian town; most of the town was hidden in the dark, the lights barely illuminating the pathways, some buildings were much more visible than others. Across from Aiden’s house, there was a row of small businesses: A blacksmith, a general store, a place to enchant items, and a library in the middle of them all. What was peculiar about them was that they were all still open, bustling with activity, lights on or music playing. From what could be seen through the windows, people were talking amongst themselves, reading, maybe snacking, it was quite busy for an evening. “Weird that these stores are still open...” Jesse observed, Olivia shuffled a few steps closer to him, “Are we allowed to stop looking down??” “Oh uh- I just kinda- Stopped. Looking down.” he shrugged but immediately shifted focus, “Wait wait wait! What about Cassie Rose!? How crazy is that??” he whisper shouted.   Olivia’s eyes went wide, “Oh my gosh- right?! Completely out of nowhere, I’m surprised she didn’t strangle us on the spot.” “Maybe it’s because Aiden was with us,” speaking of, Jesse looked back at the house, Aiden and Cassie Rose were no longer there, the doors were wide open, some of the lights from inside were released, dazzling the tiny garden. Olivia watched the door keenfully, she didn’t want to worry Jesse, but her mind had already raced to several different scenarios where the two of them would be attacked, kidnapped, held hostage--though that’s similar to kidnapping--she couldn’t see any good outcome to this situation. And though she hates to think it, she sort of blames Jesse for wounding them up here. She’s not exactly mad at Jesse, he’s a reliable friend, he’s always there to help out or be a shoulder to lean on, making sure his friends were never down, motivating them--but christ can he never seem to plan ahead. He might consider an option or think about a situation for a moment, but afterwards he’ll dally off to whatever piques his curiosity, or say whatever he feels is right for the problem, not thinking about the consequences. This has led them to getting in h multiple times, including this one. While cautiously keeping an eye on the door, she heard the murmur of a voice, but didn’t pay any mind to it. The voice came again, then suddenly, a hand placed itself on her shoulder and shook her. “Olivia!” Jesse said quietly, “Let’s go.” he motioned towards the doors, Aiden’s--well anything above his chest area--stuck out, his legs still in the house as he waved at them in a somewhat secretive manner. Olivia and Jesse speed walked to the front yard, making sure to avoid the delicate flowers as the sound of a bustling conversation grew more and more loud. Aiden quickly signaled them to “Stop” right before entering the building. He stepped into the house again, the once lively chat died down, a few hushes could be heard, the area fell silent, the faint background music barely filling in the void. Coming out again, Aiden nodded, “Alright, come in. Slowly.” adding a hint of emphasis on “slowly”. Olivia was the first to enter; a living room with two large, light green couches, an armchair to match, and a wall covered with bookshelves from top to bottom sat on the right side of the room, shrouded in darkness, none of the lamps turned on. The same couldn’t be said for the left area of the house, a kitchen with it’s own bar table shone brightly, the metal pieces of the kitchen reflected and glared, and the laminated maple wood floor was polished to the point where you could see your reflection. But the interior was not Olivia’s biggest concern when she looked at who was sitting at the bar table-- There was Stella, who was sitting on one of the tall, cool gray bar stools, her back straight, hands folded in her lap while her pure diamond--almost bleach-like--side cut, hair was resting by her shoulder, hanging about. Sitting next to her was Gill, who wore a t-shirt that faded from a dark blue to white; compared to his loose and comfortable looking khakis, the shirt he wore appeared clingy or tight, stretching/straining against his large build, giving it a more refined shape. He was balancing the stool on its two hind legs; his legs crossed and on the table, one hand on his stomach while the other was stroking his short, brown boxed beard, stubbles leading to his buzz cut hairstyle, which was a little fluffy.. Then there was Maya, who, unlike the other two, was sitting on the table itself, arms folded and legs dangling off the edge. Like Aiden, she had a leather jacket of her own, but it was noticeably thinner, the sleeves rolled up, each one having its own little, golden button, which complimented her hair clip and her black boots with gold colored straps. A bold colored shirt, collar being a bright yellow--along with the bottom--with the rest of the article mostly being candy apple red, helped the big, navy blue “E” stand out in the smack center. ‘Great. This is amazing. It’s not like these people despise me, or wanna throw me off a cliff-’ Olivia thought to herself, her breathing becoming unsteady as she kept opening her closing her increasingly sweating hands. The three stared at Olivia, slack jawed, their faces white as a sheet. Their gaped eyes focused on her, as if they encountered a ghost or some otherworldly creature. Olivia licked her lips, and let out a weak, cracky “Hi...”, uncertain whether or not she should say something to break the tension. Stella’s once stiff posture loosened up as she leaned over the table, as if inspecting the girl, her arms slowly moving out of her lap and onto the top, hands flat and stiff. Her mouth was parted, seeking out the right words to say, but nothing came. Gill almost stumbled out of his chair and--had it not been for his quick reaction--saved himself from falling off. He ended up stepping off and standing still, the bar acting like a border between his friends and Olivia. Maya’s eyes flickered, she scooted herself off of the table, stepping closer to Olivia, who stood as still as a statue, her eyes following the russet haired girl with her eyes. “You weren’t kidding...” Maya finally said, leaning close to the black, curly haired girl, who used Aiden’s jacket as a shell to hide in. Staring back at Aiden, who was leaning against the wall by the door, she continued “This is... ‘Shocking’.” Cassie Rose nodded, “We’re not entirely sure if she’s the ‘real deal’ or not, so don’t get too touchy.” “What??” Gill ran back up to the table--scaring Stella--and slid to the top in such an awkward position that the others thought he would fall off. “How could she not be real?! She’s right there! Right in front of us!” “Yeah, I know but,” Rose adjusted her glasses and turned to the front door, “We have some reasonable doubts.” Aiden rose, the two exchanged a look of agreement towards each other. Sticking his head out the door again, Aiden mumbled “Alright, come in.” to Jesse, who had been against the wall, next to the door outside, listening. Jesse mouthed the word okay as he took the green hat off and held it close to his chest, squeezing it tightly. He wasn’t sure what to expect, he could only make out bits and pieces of whatever was going on inside. He stepped in and the second he passed the doorway, he scanned the dumbfounded and dazed faces along with Olivia’s jittery expression. It felt as though a bomb had dropped in his stomach, a sickly, queasy feeling twisted his guts as he could make out Maya, Gill, and Stella, whose attentions were all on him now. Their once astonished faces shifted to a brief flash of confusion, anger, then finally, wrath.

[ellebabywrites]

If Looks Could Kill - Vernon Chwe

Type : Oneshot // Slight Angst // Smut // Fluffy ending

Theme : Enemies to Lovers // College au

Word Count : 3834

Author Note : FINALLY THIS IS UP !! I’m so sorry to the Lovely that requested this AGES ago that it took so long !! I’ve never written smut before so I was a little hesitant and nervous because I wanted to do it well . I hope you all enjoy this because I’m actually really proud of it and happy how it turned out !! Any feedback is SO APPRECIATED!! Enjoy El 💛

For the most part , your college experience had been perfect . No messy breakups ; no unnecessary drama ; a solid group of friends - hell , somehow you were even staying on top of all the work . You’d lucked out , but of course there had to be something . And that something lived and breathed in Vernon Chwe .

The boy who sat three rows behind you in your early morning Literature class . The boy who felt the need to play devils advocate every single time you answered a question , or gave an opinion , or spoke at all for that matter . The boy who , for the better part of the year , had managed to throw a wrench in you perfect college experience and you hated him for it . Okay , maybe hate was a strong word , you weren’t his biggest fan let’s just say that .

You didn’t understand how someone so insufferably annoying could be as popular as Vernon was . Not only did he have an abundance of friends , he was also constantly surrounded by a million and one “fangirls”. Sure he had the facial structure of a God ; and yes his eyes looked like gems from another other planet ; and okay sometimes he told a joke that made you giggle ; and maybe he actually smelled really good , unlike so many of the other guys in your class , but besides all that , what could possibly be so appealing about Vernon Chwe ? You had no idea .

∴

“I don’t know what to tell you Miss Y/N . This essay is a B , I’m not changing my mind.” Your professor sighed at you as you were desperately trying to convince him to up the grade of your final essay , he however , was not budging .

“Please Mr Kim , I need this essay to be an A , it has to be an A ! I worked so hard , if I don’t get an A on this paper it will throw off my whole grade for the year !” Begging certainly wasn’t below you , especially in Mr Kim’s class , but even you knew this was starting to get pathetic . “Mr Kim please you have to understand , I need this A..”

“Y/N . I’m sorry I really am , I’ve already entered your grade as a B , it will not change . Now if you’re done , my wife spent all night making my lunch and I am very excited to get to it “ the professor stood up from his desk and made his way to the door , leaving you post-grovel at his desk, “I’ll see you tomorrow Miss Y/N.” And then he was gone. Sighing in defeat you barely registered the footsteps come up behind you , not until you heard that voice . His voice .

“Ahhh what a shame little Y/N , not even the begging swayed him this time” the smirk on his face seeping through his words . Vernon moves around to lean against the professors desk as he watches you with taunting eyes .“Shut up Vernon . Your commentary isn’t needed” rolling your eyes you stormed out of the room , resisting the urge to turn around and throw a book at him when you heard him snicker .

∴

“Wow Y/N ! You look hot !” Soyeon , your best friend in the entire world , yelled excitedly when you walked out of your room into the apartment you shared . You were wearing a short black skirt with a matching black crop top , paired with an off the shoulder denim jacket and thigh high boots . Your hair flowed down in waves and your makeup looked simple but chic - you did look hot , more importantly you felt hot and were more than ready to head to a party at the S V T frat house . “What , this old thing ? Really ?” You played shock while twirling around seductively , making Soyeon laugh .

“Stop ! You know you’re killing it ! Tell me is someone looking to get laid tonight missy ?? I heard Seokmin is excited to see you“ She waved her finger at you accusingly , giving the ‘I know what you’re doing’ look . Honestly this girl . “You’re one to talk ! Look at you in that tight-ass red dress , don’t tell me this ensemble has nothing to do with a certain Yuto being there !” Mirroring her stance you glared back at her teasingly . “And for the billionth time , Seok and I are just FRIENDS ...... good friends ..... that flirt occasionally .... that’s all !”

Soyeon laughed at your attempts to dissuade her yet again while moving to grab her keys from the counter . “Hey ! I mean it ! Just friends !”

“Yeah yeah of course babe whatever you say .” The both of you giggled and continued the debate as you made you way out of the apartment and to the party .

∴

When you get to the house , sounds of music blasting and people laughing fills your ears . ‘Tonight is going to be interesting’ you thought . Seokmin opens the door and greats both you and Soyeon happily with his signature smile , giving you a once over before moving aside to welcome you inside .

“Y/N !! Soyeon !! You guys made it !! Come in , come in ; everything’s the same as usual - drinks are all in the kitchen , everyone’s pretty much in the main room or out back , if you need anything , just find me .” He winks at you and you can’t help the shy smile and soft blush that graces your face . Soyeon didn’t miss the interaction and promptly took the opportunity to sneak off to find Yuto . When the blush dies down and you turn to face her , she’s long gone .

“You look stunning by the way” Seok praised , reaching out to tug at your wrist “honestly Y/N what are you doing to me hm?” His flirting was still embarrassing but it made you giggle nonetheless , pushing him away slightly “okay okay I’m sorry but DAAAMMNNNN!!” He yelled out moving you to twirl under his arm by your fingers , “Seokmin stop this right now and go get me a drink or I swear to God I’ll go hang out with Soyeon all night instead !” You giggle out , staring back into his eyes with mock seriousness while he continued making faces looking you up and down . “Ahhhh no Y/N don’t hurt me that way , I’ll be right back” walking backwards away from you he continued smirking “raspberry vodka ?” He asks and you nod back in confirmation . He knew you so well .

While you waited for Seokmin to return you watched the people around you , getting the lay of the party and trying to keep an eye on Soyeon . She had made it a mission to win her way into Yuto’s heart ( or more like his pants ) tonight and to say she was relying on the liquid courage was a serious understatement . If she needed it you were more than ready to come to her rescue . As if on cue , you spotted her laughing at something the taller boy had said flirtatiously across the room. Shaking your head and stifling another giggle , you moved further into the main room . And that’s when your eyes locked on to the very last person you had wanted to see tonight . Vernon . He was wearing dark jeans and a light patterned shirt; his hair tousled onto his face effortlessly - he looked good. Great even . He stared right back into your soul , for once without his signature smirk paired with teasing eyes and for some reason neither of you looked away . Not till Seokmin came back , pulling your focus .

“One raspberry vodka for one very pretty lady” he charmed , handing you the red plastic cup .

“Why thank you kind Sir” you whipped back , winking at him . The both of you held eye contact while taking sips of your respective drinks before again bursting into a fit of giggles . This is why you loved Seokmin , he was fun and easy to be around , he always made you feel special and having a flirting buddy seriously took the edge off these otherwise tedious parties . For a second you allowed your eyes to wonder back over to Vernon . He was still watching you, only now his eyes seemed to have darkened as he watched Seokmin continue to shamelessly flirt , which confused you - but it wasn’t your problem so you went back to laughing at whatever stupid thing Seok was whispering in your ear .

For the rest of the night you stuck by Seokmin’s side , flirting with each other with gentle touches and quick words . Somehow you’d both ended up on the couch , your legs thrown over one of his muscular thighs, his fingers gently grazing along them while talking with some of his S V T brothers about nothing in particular . To anyone watching who didn’t know about your close friendship , it looked like the pair of you were together - that’s exactly how it looked to Vernon and it made his blood boil . He had been watching you from the moment you’d arrived , unable to take his eyes away from you ; your body ; your face when you laughed ; your hands touching Seokmin ; his hands that seemed to always be touching you . It was like he was entranced by your beauty . Well , he always knew you were beautiful , that was part of the reason he was always trying to rile you up . He found you exceptionally beautiful , especially when you got passionate about something . But tonight ... tonight you looked like a goddess and he could not stop staring . Seeing you so friendly with Seokmin was starting to grate on him . He didn’t like seeing his hands on your thigh or the way your fingers danced along the back of Seokmin’s neck - and it was becomming harder to contain .

Feeling like something was off, you take a moment to glance around the room (just in time to spot Soyeon following Yuto up the stairs and you make a mental note to grill her tomorrow) eventually your eyes once again meet Vernon’s . He looks pissed again and doesn’t turn away as you stare him down curiously . Why was he giving you such dirty looks tonight ? And why were you being so effected by whatever Vernon Chwe was doing ? Usually you could brush him off and try and ignore whatever snide comments he would make ; but tonight he wasn’t pestering you with teasing looks or backhand remarks; tonight he looked mad at you . What for was yet another mystery.

Ignoring him again you face back to Seok and try to reintegrate into the conversation . He was talking with Seungkwan about something or another ; holding onto you tighter every time he laughed at the younger boy ; making Vernon clench his jaw slightly at the movement of his fingers against your flesh . Beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable under Vernon’s unrelenting gaze , you decide its time for another drink .

“I’m going to get a drink” you leaned in and whispered against Seokmin’s ear so that he’d release your legs . Straightening out your skirt and heading towards the kitchen , not missing the way Vernon quickly followed behind you.

∴

“Are you going to be watching me all night Vernon or will you be able to find a life in the next few hours ?” You shot at him without even turning around as you refilled the red cup with more liquor .

“Since when were you and Seokmin so close?” He threw back , seemingly unfazed by the harshness of your voice. Finally turning around to face him , you’re met with the same dark gaze he’d held for most of the night . “Excuse me ?”

“I didn’t realise you two were so close , I mean with his hands all over your legs you must be close right ?” Now his voice being the harsh one you were taken back by the tension that was brewing between the two of you . Vernon took a step closer eyeing you closely but you didn’t move , just simply looked back at him in surprise . “Well it’s really none of your business how close Seok and I are is it ?” Trying to keep your voice firm was increasingly difficult the closer he stepped towards you. Soon he was close enough that you could feel his breath hit your face . His scent drawing you in - how the hell did he still smell this good after being surrounded by alcohol ?! “You look unbelievable . It’s really not fair that Seokmin has had you beside him all night” Vernon’s voice dropped dangerously low as he continued to stare deep into your eyes , making your breathing hitch .

“I like being with Seokmin , he’s fun and he takes care of me” you counter back , trying not to give in to him . But Vernon doesn’t stop, he simply moves even closer never once breaking eye contact . You feel his hands start to dance up your arms and it sends a familiar shiver down your spine . ’Vernon Chwe is making you flustered’ the thought disappears as soon as you feel his nose brush against your own .“I can take care of you.” The gruffness to his voice paired with the gentleness of his touch had your thighs clenching and had you leaning further into his touch. “I really want to kiss you right now.” He whispered against your lips , practically already touching.

“Then you should kiss me.”

∴

The next few moments felt like a blur . The pair of you locked together , Vernon’s body pressing you tightly against the kitchen counter , carefully reaching around you to move the half full cups of liquor out of the way . His hands then moved slowly up to cup both of your cheeks so he could deepen the kiss even more . Feeling dizzy off his touches , when you felt his tongue swipe innocently against your bottom lip you didn’t even have to think before opening your mouth to him . ‘He tastes like candy’ you thought .

Things were moving fast and the kiss soon became less innocent and spontaneous and more passionate and sloppy . It was all clashing teeth and tongues fighting for dominance but soon enough the need for oxygen overpowered everything else and the both of you pulled away , just enough to look into each others eyes . Both breathless and blushing , suddenly you felt shy . You had just made out with Vernon Chwe at some frat party .... you ..... and Vernon . The boy you would have sworn to be your enemy and you had just sucked tongues with him ; the worst part being you wanted to do it again . Oh how badly you wanted to do it again , but you were frozen just staring back into his eyes .

“Do you want to go somewhere else ?” He whispered , still trying to catch his breath , the desire evident as his eyes keep moving from your eyes to your lips . Not wanting to risk your voice cracking you just nodded . Your thoughts had quickly gone from wanting to throw things at Vernon’s head to wanting to see it between your thighs and it was embarrassing how turned on you were . Vernon however seemed more than confident in his actions as he swiftly laced his fingers between your own and lead you through the house up to an empty bedroom . And you had just let him take you , seriously what had gotten into you ?

∴

Soon enough you had your back pressed against the door and were once again locking lips with Vernon . Your fingers wove their way into the locks of hair at the back of his neck , tugging slightly when you felt him bite down on your lower lip . His hands lazily playing with the hem of your skirt .

“Does Seokmin touch you like this ?” he asked as his hands slipped underneath the tight fabric and gently bunching it up at your waist , exposing the wetness visible on your matching lace panties . “Does Seokmin make you this wet ?” He asked again , sliding a finger over the wet spot . How could his words be so rough but his actions so gentle ? You thought to yourself as you tried not to fall apart already .

You desperately tugged at his hair trying to stop the talk and resume kissing , but he stayed where he was - trapping you against the door with his body , left hand cupping your neck keeping your foreheads together while his other hand cupped your heat , teasing you over the thin lacey fabric . “I don’t want to talk about Seokmin . I want you Vernon , please “ you whimpered out and the sound had Vernon’s jeans tightening , but still he didn’t give in , wanting to see just how needy you were for him as his fingers continued their teasing. Like the expert you were , you began begging . “Please Vernon , please touch me I need ... “ cut off by a gasp as you felt him pull down your panties and move his fingers through your folds . His face burying in the crook of your neck , nibbling and sucking on the skin , you held onto his shoulders for leverage at the fear of your knees giving out .

“So pretty” he whispered into your neck , “you’re always so pretty , can we take these off ?” He asks as his hands moved to tug at your remaining clothes . You pulled off your jacket and top while Vernon kneeled down and removed your boots , kissing up your legs and gently biting on your hip as he moved back up . Suddenly feeling exposed and cold , you pulled Vernon back into another kiss , missing his body heat and needing to hold onto something. Reaching down he grabs you by your thighs and quickly moves the both of you towards the bed .

“God you’re so beautiful , how are you this beautiful ?” Vernon moved on top of you so he could look at you better , his hands idly playing with your now erect nipples , “I’ve wanted you for so long Y/N” lips latching themselves back onto your neck, bruising the skin, “let me show you how bad I want you , let take care of you” hands moving your legs to wrap around his waist pushing himself flush against your naked body, “you’ll let me take care of you right baby ?”

“God yes , Vernon please , take your clothes off” you tugged at his shirt and used your feet to try and push off his jeans . Reluctantly peeling himself away to undress and not even a second later he was back on top of you , moving his hand between your legs . He gently slides one finger inside your core to see if you were ready for him , causing you to moan softly, “you’re so wet Y/N , can you take another finger baby ?” Eagerly nodding along , biting you lip at the sensation of Vernon gradually adding more fingers , your attention is pulled by the feeling of his throbbing dick pressing against your thigh . Reaching out you grab onto his member and slowly stroke him in time with the thrusts of his fingers inside you , making his breathing hitch .

“Vernon , I want you , now , please” you beg him as your stomach tightens with each of his movements , the sound of you falling apart and the feeling of your walls clenching around his fingers is enough to make him let out a string of breathy moans .

Pulling his fingers out of you , Vernon moved them to his lips and sucked them dry, holding eye contact with you and encouraging another blissful moan to fall from your lips . “You sound so pretty when you moan for me baby “ he leans down to kiss your lips tenderly while his hand fumbles around for a condom in the bedside cabinet . “Are you sure about this ?” He asks earnestly while rolling the condom on and pumping himself slowly .

“I’m sure . I want this Vernon , I want you .”

That being the confirmation he needed , he wastes no time slipping into you . You weren’t a virgin so while not painful , the stretch had you gasping for air and clinging to his shoulders.

Waiting for you to adjust to his size , Vernon plants soft kisses all over your face , whispering praises and confessions .

“Vernon , move “ you whispered back once you were ready , relaxing your muscles so he could roll his hips into you .

You thought that Vernon would be rougher with you considering how hard he was , but he took his time ; holding your body as close as possible , making sure you could feel every part of him with each thrust , all the while sucking and kissing marks over your neck and chest .

Feeling impatient and increasingly desperate for your release you use your feet pressed against his ass to try and move faster , hips rising to meet his thrusts . “Vernon faster , please baby go faster .”

Both of your orgasms getting closer , your actions became tougher and needier . A hand scratching down his back while the other tugging at his hair had Vernon rutting into you at an unbelievable pace , getting deeper with each thrust . His own hands moving to hold your hips in place surely leaving bruises with the pressure , that only adding to your pleasure .

Feeling your walls clench around him , Vernon snakes one of his hands between your bodies to run small circles agains your clit , desperately trying to come first .

“Be a good baby and come for me , you’re such a good girl , come for me Y/N” he whispers against your check , kissing down to your neck . It’s clear he’s close as well as his thrusts lose rhythm and become sloppy , so you clench hard around him and push yourself over the edge .

Moaning loudly at the intensity of your orgasm , all you can see is white , your senses in overdrive and legs shaking . You keep a death grip on Vernon’s shoulders to ground yourself and stay awake .

He comes right after you , face buried into your neck moaning your name over and over again into your skin . You both stay like that for a moment , letting your bodies calm down and breathing regulate , eyes feeling heavy . When Vernon slowly moves out of you , your body shivers in overstimulation .

You feel his lips against your forehead and open your eyes to see him throwing the condom into the trash and moving to clean you up with a tissue . After you’re all clean he slips his boxers back on and grabs a shirt from the wardrobe ; moving your arms through the holes and bringing it over your head before lying back down and bringing your body close to his .

“This is your room ?” You ask sleepily , nuzzling into his side . He giggles at your cuteness and starts running his fingers through your hair .

“Yeah , did you think I’d fuck you in some strangers bed ?”

“I didn’t think you’d fuck me at all .”

He looks down at your face and gently leans in to kiss you , “I’ve liked you for the longest time Y/N. “ His sudden confession making your cheeks burn red , you bury yourself further into him.

“ I like you too ,” you confess “I just thought you were a jackass .” This makes him laugh and he kisses you again .

“Yeah I know , I’m sorry for being a jackass.”

[masshirohebi-moved]

❝ it’s time for things to change. ❞ (adult Oro

things that are hard to hear.// @izunaismsThe serpent minds their own business as they always do, but the sound of pattering feet seem to follow them wherever they choose to roam. There is a group of eleven children fussing about the serpents current work. A small table set neatly inside a tent, made for creating toxins never heard of in this day and age. Being careful as to not allow the young ones close to anything fatal, they allow the curious minds to flock them and ask questions. Even as it grows later and later.And it is when Orochimaru is swept up in the conversation with two of the children, explaining why the thing they think is so important, truly isn’t so serious, that they spot Izuna’s figure a few meters away. Leaning against a grand tree, merely watching. And they can’t tell from this distance, if he is skeptical of them being with such vulnerable members of his clan, or endeared that they seem to entertain the children with patience and understanding. Either way, they assume he is here to see the young ones are all right. And although the group should be heading back by now, after sad and disappointed protests, Orochimaru speaks on their behalf to let them stay a while longer.“I’ll keep my eye on them while they’re here. And I’ll ensure they head home before dark.”

It is the final words they speak to Izuna before he has begun to head back himself. Many clan duties awaiting him, the journey from the serpents ten to the main circle of Uchiha designated ones a short trip. But when they try and tell the children it is time to head off, there is stubborn resistance. So the Sannin, assessing the well guarded and sealed tent, allows them to stay there. Announcing that they however, would need to gather a few herbs before dark arrived. And it is then that eager eyes greet the viper.“Can we come with you?” one asks.“Why would I dictate that?” they respond.“Well, my mother says I’m not supposed to go in to the forests at this time.” “Well I’m not your mother. You ought not to listen to someone who isn’t.”Which was to say, the children should abandon the idea of following them, and go back to the mothers and fathers awaiting the young ones return. Obeying the advice that was handed out by trusted parental figures, rather that interesting and mysterious strangers. But the children hear something entirely different of course - that without a mothers critical gaze, it was entirely their choice. And so, the serpent detects the groups supposed to be silent pursue. Which causes them to merely chuckle under their breath, the never ending curiosity of children commendable.They had been kneeling down to the ground, slender hands meandering through the forestry and foliage. Picking out the correct herbs that they would need for various cures, and in great contrast, various poisons. They hear the children several feet away, voices growing more and more distant as a game of chase commences. As laughter erupts in the forest. The serpent is drawing the soon to be preserved herbs in to small satchels placed in the pockets of a draped cloak they don. The forest is most beautiful, a sun kissed sky a striking red during sunset. Magical almost. Almost.Laughter turns to screams, to desperate cries. They are snapped from their duties of gathering, looking up with the swiftness of a deer hearing the approach of a predator. And they take flight with just as much haste. It would take moments for Orochimaru to get there, it would take minutes for Izuna to. But when the Uchiha heir does arrive, his eyes would fall to the gruesome sight no clansmen would ever be able to remove from their memory. The forest is already a deathly silent when he draws up, though what was once green and earthy is now thick with dark patches of blood and gore. The bodies of the Senju party accountable are all limp, lifeless. Two young adults, one young teenager. The small group had evidently been out here hunting, showing the youngest member how to do so. But the game of chase amid the Uchiha children had causes a collision. And those children did not stand much of a chance against the two very much adult Senju.Much like the Senju had not stood much of a chance when the serpent arrived to protect their own allies young. But they were too far to get there in time, ten bodies are already discarded, dead upon arrival. The only other child, barely breathing, is gathered gently in to the serpents arms. On their knees with him secure on their lap, whispering soft reassurances all the while. With the protectiveness that may make onlookers assume them to be the parent. Their hand is placed on the boys chest, a faint glow of chakra flickering around their palm and fingers. Desperate to breathe life back in to his fast falling form. They look back up to acknowledge Izuna, golden eyes splashed with apology, long hair usually silken smooth now sticky and matted with blood, clothes appearing almost wet with the battles gory residue. And it is when their hand retracts slowly away, then raises to the young ones eyes to gently guide them closed, that the cruel message is made devastatingly tragic;The child would not make it home.                                                             ***❝ it’s time for things to change. ❞ They can hear his words are laced with the anger and hatred he felt. The stomach turning animosity he could not shake after arriving to a scene of his clans most innocent pressed in to the dirt. Nothing but slaughtered lamb at the blades of far older shinobi. His words send a certain chill down their spine, his vote of confidence in their suggestion evidently absent. There would be a battle in a days time, and the Sannin found little ability to convince Izuna he ought to not participate. After such a heinous crime, how could the clan heir not personally take punishment in to his own hands?But he would not be the only clan heir upon that battlefield. Senju Tobirama was to be on the very same one. The man responsible for Izuna’s death - was fate so persistent, that it would try and force the two clashing younger brothers to fight to the bitter end once more? The serpent did not want to lose their key to a better future. They had come too far.“And times will, Izuna. But only if we make the right steps in each battle. There are enough competent Uchiha to engage the Senju. I insist you remain behind, and escort those who will not be participating to safer grounds,” the Sannin interjects, but they can feel the sharp tongue that counters their seemingly cowardly approach.“Izuna-sama is far more necessary on the battlefield. We can’t afford to send our strongest clan member to do a duty that could be handled just as well by those not fighting,” a tall woman mutters impatiently. A nod from the two men beside her signify this room is in agreement with Izuna.“We’ve been avoiding too many conflicts. I don’t see how going on the retreat has served us,” another man states. And the viper knows it is a losing battle on this night. For this clan was known for its fierce devotion, and how it must have set the fire alight in every heart when the small burials were made for children never to experience. And while they wish to tell Izuna that they can not have him fighting this battle with Tobirama, that his blind anger and arrogance may get him killed, they know that too would be an error. For the moment they tell him the man responsible for killing him come future, they have little doubt Izuna will be more careful - that Izuna would be the one to kill Tobirama. And that man was too important to be removed from history. So with a gaze that radiated their own unrest and displeasure, they ignore those addressing them to instead look upon Izuna himself, a soft hiss escaping from between their fangs.“You’re making a terrible decision. And you’re making it for all of us.”                                                           ***As it were, that battle would come to pass. But the serpent would not sit idly by and let fate once more decide things. They march with the soldiers of the Uchiha clan, even when Izuna seems less pleased about this recklessness. And maybe he thinks them spiteful, that because he is ignoring their advice, they are now ignoring his. But for once, their decision does not stem from that place. If Tobirama and Izuna were to fight, they would see to it themself that neither one died. The future hung too heavily on both mens shoulders. All the same, the disapproving gaze that they journey with is not much reassurance. That they are angering him with snide comments and defiance is clear. Even if that temper of his has yet to be directed at them. “You can still turn back.”It is the last plea they make, before Uchiha and Senju are face to face. Before two younger brothers have locked eyes across the battlefield. Tunnel vision, assessing one another as the two apex predators of their respective territories. And truly, with the hatred that seeped from either one, a battle that mimicked the confrontation of animals was far more fitting in the vipers mind. But there was perhaps, a great miscount on the Uchiha’s part. For every one of their fighters, the Senju had four, outside allies called upon.It is Izuna himself who fends off Tobirama, the most troublesome one amid the large army. But the Sannin is too preoccupied fighting a dozen shinobi at a time to properly give Izuna the edge they had wanted to. And it is when it is only Izuna and Orochimaru alive in a sea of corpses, that they feel their own racing heartbeat slow down to a painfully sickened drum. That they could not let the man die here, that despite how he struggles to his feet, ignoring every cut, bruise and fracture that plagues his body… his time may have come after all.And it is with the most quick and regrettably loathing analysis, that they decide to do something most unspeakable. For the sake of survival.With Izuna facing his back towards them, ever trustful in this moment of his ally, it is shamefully easy for the Sannin to drive their blade from one side of his body to the other. Watching as both shock and pain stagger him. As the short sound of a breathless gasp barely falls from his lips. And undoubtedly, the swarm of Senju who had surrounded him watch on in both surprise and distrustful curiosity. Betrayal on the battlefield was not uncommon, but it was not admired. And with their companion, who they truly have grown fond of, still impaled on their blade, they look to the Senju leaders, “I want immunity from this battle. Even outnumbered and injured, you and I both know he could have taken down a hundred more of you before someone managed to kill him. It would be wise to give incentive to traitors of the Uchiha, let my reward be my life.”They twist their blade within the man, a calculating move. Before golden eyes move to look at him. “I’m sorry, Izuna-san. But your pride lead me to death, and rather you than me,” they say to him, a few smiles lifting to the enemies lips, likely amused by the Uchiha prince falling hand to his own trusted accomplice. And the viper utters the lukewarm sentiment that perhaps there will be an afterlife, that perhaps there may be a time where he can reunite with everyone from this world, “until we meet again.”With the blade stuck inside him, they are forced to shove it forward again, or so they make it appear. Once closer, the softest whisper, for his ears only, is uttered, “and we will meet again.”Pushing him off their weapon, they lower it to gaze at the army ahead. And despite their show of pretending they are dismayed by the Senju’s answer, they had not truly expected it to be any different. The shinobi will try and detain the serpent regardless, for a traitor is most easy to extract information from. And given their closeness to Izuna, they would know the campsites, the structure, the numbers, the resources. They could detail a plan to undo the Uchiha in one final swing. Orochimaru counts on this fact, as they rather shamelessly choose to flee, rather than fight as most shinobi are taught. They have always thought however, that there is no pride in dying anyway. And with it being apparent that they are a key element in burning the Uchiha one last time, they allow the group to take chase after them. Like hunters after a wolf, but they know these forests better. And this is no true attempt to flee, so much as it is an attempt to get the Senju away from Izuna. A body that had certainly appeared dead. A trick the devil themself had created.For it would be within the next half an hour that the poison they had laced their blade with would run dry out Izuna’s system. Where he would realize their blade missed every vital organ and artery, that blood would be clotted by the toxin they stabbed him with. Preventing blood loss, even if it was a painful exercise. And he would awaken to the aid of his clansmen, able to be nursed to life. Sensors from the opposing army would have felt the decline of his heartbeat, the stagnation of his chakra - all the paralyzing effects of their venom. But it was non-lethal. It would merely mimic death, rather than achieve it.And he would live, while the Senju arrogantly think him dead. Risky, but their only idea when it came to his stubborn need to fight this battle. It is a breathless chase, when they escape only because they had littered the forest in seal work that would aid hiding. Only because Izuna had worn Tobirama so thin in battle, that he too was running on pride alone to be running at all. And it will be half an hour later that they lose those following them, then an hour more before they brave going back to the Uchiha campsite. Littered in their own injuries, and without the chakra it required to use their rebirth technique. Their summons had already informed them that Izuna’s body was found by fellow clan members as planned. That Madara’s arrival on the field had made the Senju vacate the area. That to no surprise, the older Uchiha had carried Izuna back to camp. Where his heart would pick up speed, where he would awaken in a world of agony, but awake nonetheless. And it takes the largest amount of courage to tread back to the Uchiha. Where those tending to Izuna’s wounds would look up with eyes like wolves. Surrounding their downed leader, daring the traitor who stabbed him to take one step closer. And although the serpent themself had felt much like a wolf being hunted when they crossed light footed through the forest, they realize with quite  a bit of alarm, that they would never truly be a part of this pack. And that more than anything, it was a terrible danger to be out in these woods alone. “It was the only way I could save you.”Their words are steady, but their gaze is not. They are too weak from their own wounds to bother with a better pokerface. And although adrenaline is aiding them, they are losing the strength to stand, to make a plea for a chance of explaining. And they look to Izuna, over the heads of the Uchiha promising them death, over the head of Madara, who they already know is deciding how he wishes to exact execution, “if I wanted you dead Izuna, you would be. I’m here making the rather brave assumption that although as of now, you too could kill me, you will make the same decision as I.”And they think, in perhaps a touch of deranged and injury-induced amusement, that with the sheer amount of times they had stabbed someone, they would have come up with a better way of apologizing for it by now.

[loganscanons]

that night | pt 1

Characters: Britney and Quest

Summary: The story of Britney and Quest’s first time hooking up, which eventually turns into them having a relationship. This is part one because there’s more I want to write but I’m not sure when I’ll have time. I wanted to post what I have so far though.

@romecanons

The night didn’t go as smoothly as planned.

A regular client of Quest’s had tasked him with the job of stealing – or as Quest put it, the job of retrieving – a Paleolithic ivory sculpture from one of the client’s competitors. In the original plan, Quest planned to have no confrontation with security. Of course, he had back-up plans for elements out of control, but the run-in with security was his own fault. Britney’s fault, in a way.

Quest could’ve stolen the sculpture the traditional way. Dismantled alarms and a silent break-in during the dead of night. All black outfit and avoiding cameras. But that was so dull, especially when the perfect opportunity to get near the sculpture arose. The owner of the sculpture – a man from money that advertised himself as a charitable philanthropist but was actually intimately involved in arms trades – was hosting the premiere of a new art installation in his private museum. A party where guests turned their noses up at the homeless in their own cities while lamenting the poor orphans of Africa that they would never meet nor truly understand. Their outfits might as well be made of money. Shimmering and jeweled dresses, the name brand suits, the special-made outfits paired with hundreds or thousands of dollars’ worth of jewelry. No one would be wearing outfits cheaper than $6K, and some dresses would cost over a half million.

Fancy parties with out-of-touch rich folk would always be Quest’s favorite targets. He could dress up in his best clothes and spend an evening stealing priceless items from millionaires and billionaires. What could be better?

He opted to play the role of a married man, rather than an eligible bachelor or not-quite-tied-down engaged man. Not that the status of his relationship mattered to particularly persistent women. Regardless, he made his decision, and for that decision, he needed a wife. There were a few women he could contact to help him, but none were as readily available as Britney.

Quest had contemplated bringing in team members to help with cons in the past. Their consistent impulsiveness deterred him, however. Plus, none had his extensive training in adapting to any situation. Britney wasn’t trained either, but in her life before the team, she was well-practiced in pretending. Now, she never had a need to effortlessly plaster on a smile, nor sweet-talk or flirt her way out of trouble. Turns out mutant powers can get you what you want, too.

Quest found out by chance that Britney could still use that skill when she wanted. He couldn’t remember exactly what she’d asked for, but she’d wanted him to pass her something. She demanded it. Expecting a snide response and not thinking much of it, Quest told her to ask nicely. Britney put on her smile that would’ve been downright charming if Quest didn’t know her to be a bitter and angry person. That small interaction was enough for him to seriously consider asking for her help.

Britney hesitated at first. How could someone with her complexion be any help in a con? After a decent amount of convincing and a long battle with body make-up, Britney was willing to help. With a realistic blonde wig and a floor-length, long-sleeve, black dress, she looked like any other human.

It wasn’t really her fault the plan went wrong. But she was the reason Quest lost his usual focus. During a con, he had to become his role. Anything to do with life outside of the con could be ignored until later. And Britney, stunning in her dress, distracted him from the role.

Quest had successfully done jobs with gorgeous women plenty of times in the past. Not once had they hindered a job with their beauty or personality. If he was attracted to them, or wanted to have sex with them, that waited until the job was over.

He couldn’t wait with Britney.

Maybe it was the unknown aspect. In the past, he had a pretty good idea of who would be willing to have some celebration sex after a successful heist. And if he assumed incorrectly, that was fine. They were infrequent co-workers. Britney, however, he saw regularly, and he wanted to keep in his life. She was more human and more real to him than most people in the world. Their relationship as it stood was different than anything Quest had known, and because of that, it didn’t seem right to pursue sexual intimacy. He flirted with her frequently, and she flirted back, but it never got beyond just playing.

During the job, the last of Quest’s willpower snapped. A new experience for him. He didn’t know he had limited willpower. He got so used to controlling his emotions that this sudden lack of control caught him completely off guard.

The role of man and wife gave him an excuse to touch her and flirt with her. His hand rarely left her waist. He let himself get distracted by the way her lips moved when she spoke. The way she glanced at him with amused smiles. The way she flirted and teased him. When she gently pressed her lips against his, putting her all into selling the act, Quest wanted to abandon the job and bring her home. Even if he did abandon the job though, he wasn’t sure she’d go home with him.

In his distraction, Quest screwed up his plan, and he had to deal with security. Britney came to his aid, the party of rich guests unaware of the commotion in the East wing of the building. Quest got the sculpture. They got away without anyone on their tail.

A few miles from the private museum, in a poorly lit gas station lot, Quest had another car waiting for them. They switched to that car, to shake any possible tail, and left the first car with Quest’s driver. After winding turns down a few backroads, including some unpaved, Quest felt confident that no one followed them. He pulled onto a main road, and the intersection light turned yellow, then red. He knew the light was a long one. A long one with a red-light camera. There were no cars around, just wet pavement reflecting the glowing red of the stop light and unnatural yellow of the streetlamps. Quest let himself look at Britney.

The blonde wig lay in a heap on the floor; her vibrantly yellow hair was freed from bobby pins and hair-ties, spilling over her shoulders. In the fight with security, the make-up on her hands had melted away. The acidity of her powers and perspiration left the foundation on her neck and face splotchy and streaked. Beads of sweat gathered on her collarbones, glistening red and yellow under the streetlights, magnifying the green tint of her skin. Quest wanted to lean over and touch his lips to the shimmering beads, run his tongue along her bare skin, taste the salt. He felt a stirring in his lower abdomen and mentally chided himself for his lack of control.

The night gave Britney a wonderful high. Between the gown Quest bought her, the make-up, the adrenaline of the heist, and Quest’s hands constantly on her, Britney was overcome with bliss. After spending a few hours feeling genuinely beautiful, she got to relish in the power that came with knocking out a few security guards. The combination of beauty and power was intoxicating. Only when she slid into the passenger seat of the second car did the high begin to fade.

Waiting for the light to turn green, Britney flipped down the passenger side sun visor and slid open the small mirror. The light next to the mirror lit up her face, highlighting every flaw. Her make-up was caking and oily from sweat. The orange light of the car mirror didn’t do her any favors. She looked like a sickly vampire made of wax. She disgusted herself. The high was fun while it lasted, but tomorrow would be hell. Any mirror would be a reminder of just how monstrous she was now.

“You’re gorgeous, Britney,” Quest said, breaking the chain of negative thoughts.

“Huh?” Britney said, glancing at him. “Have you looked at me? I’ve sweated all my make-up off.”

“I know,” Quest said. He reached over and put his hand on her lower thigh, their skin separated by the fabric of her dress. She didn’t visibly react to the touch or his comment. “And I mean it; you look really gorgeous.”

“I looked prettier earlier,” she said. “I look ugly now.”

Britney enjoyed play-flirting with Quest. The attention was flattering and made her feel almost normal. Sometimes though, he would get all serious. His voice would get quiet and almost husky. A sober and earnest tone. Gaze intently locked onto her. Compliments. That was always too far for Britney. The play-flirting was fun, but that intense seriousness made her uncomfortable. She couldn’t believe he was being truthful when he said those sweet words to her. It was mean.

“You looked very pretty earlier,” he said. “You look gorgeous now.”

Britney smiled a little as Quest squeezed her thigh and his fingers crept higher up her leg. Reminded of the way his palm rested on her waist all night, she said, “You couldn’t keep your hands off me.”

With that intense gaze and earnest tone, he said, “I still want to have my hands on you.”

“The light’s green,” Britney said, pointing out the window.

Quest breathed out a frustrated sigh and moved his foot to the gas. He didn’t remove his hand from her leg as he took the exit onto the freeway.

Britney didn’t want to let go of the high quite yet. Maybe with Quest, she could keep pretending for a little longer. Letting impulse dictate her decisions, Britney wrapped her fingers around Quest’s hand and moved it all the way up her thigh, to right below her hip. She focused on him, ignoring the unnatural color of her skin. Quest’s hands were nicked and scarred from knives and fights, leaving his skin rough and worn.

Quest’s body reacted before his mind could. A small smile touched his lips when Britney wrapped her fingers around his. Then she moved his hand within centimeters of her crotch, and for the first time in a very long time, his brain short-circuited, and his body decided to take the lead. Quest blinked hard, forced the muddy haze in his mind to clear, took a deep breath and held it, hoping the lack of oxygen would keep his bodily responses in check.

Cold air from the car’s air-conditioning gave Quest a weird feeling of hot and cold. His insides flashed hot, while the hair on his arms and neck rose from the cold air.

The reaction was unreasonable. He knew women’s bodies intimately. Even while driving, he’d gotten pretty intimate. But none of those women were Britney. Though he may have wanted it, he never expected anything much to come from play-flirting. If he touched Britney, it was always above the belt. He’d had her hands on her waist plenty of times. Once they’d even shared a kiss, during a rare moment alone, when they were flirting and bored.

“Britney,” Quest said. He sounded like a man deprived of water. He cleared his throat.

“Yeah?”

Quest breathed in heavily through his nose, considering what he wanted to say. Nothing sounded quite right in his head. Settling for the direct approach, he said, “I want to take you home. To my place.”

“Now?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Okay,” she said.

Quest pulled his hand away from Britney’s thigh and abruptly crossed three lanes to get to an upcoming exit, making Britney grip the car to keep from leaning sideways. She stared at him, startled, but didn’t say anything.

[naernon]

for the ask meme (TES, obvs): 3,9, 13 (for naemon), 23!

thank you!! i wrote this all last night and i havent checked for coherency or errors so forgive me if it’s a bit scatterbrained at times (although yall should be used to incoherency coming from me ghhgfg.)

____

3.) Have you ever unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion?

someone said that they didn’t like serana and i was already sitting on the decision to unfollow them for other reasons and that. that was just the Final Straw.

but i think that’s it…? im so petty + impulsive (deadly combo) at times that maybe i did unfollow over a TES opinion another time but i can’t remember hgufuhfhxdfh

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9.) Most disliked character(s)? Why?

OOF this is a hard one, ill list the ones that come to mind rn;

molag bal. needs no explanation

darren guitar or whatever his name is. im sorry to anyone who likes him but i just.. can’t. he’s so obnoxious. he was toned down in summerset, probably because different people were writing him if i had to guess but in the main and daggerfall covenant questline? awful. his goddamn womanizing jokes at every second of the day was “kim, there’s people that are dying” at its finest.literally one or two “haha ladies amirite fellow man ;)/haha ladies amirite……… lady ;)” jokes can be.. bearable albeit still annoying but there was so much more than that. or they were so obnoxiously written that it seemed to be more frequent than in actuality, either way, darren guitar? 0/10also my view of him hasnt gotten better since someone sent me a rude ask about how darren had more personality than prince naemon in-game due to me joking about how i don’t like him and then subsequently blocked me for being irritated about the rudeness of the ask + the fact that im 99% sure they were the anon that appeared in my fucking inbox defending darren guitar every single time i breathed a single word about him

i completely forgot he existed until you listed him as disliked and now i hate him even more. that fucking. bard from the bannered mare. the one that harassed carlotta until you told him to fuck off. i hate that dude. always have

abnur tharn. mildly obnoxious with some amusing lines until you find out what he did to queen ayrenn like. small dick mannimarco joke is now renounced, little man. Perish.my view on Estre is Complicated because she’s a really neat character and villain and ranks as a favorite in the latter department but from like, a moral standpoint i loathe her.also while it wasn’t like. pelidil levels of shittiness i’m not fond of how she hurt naemon– but then again……. now that i think of it, i really don’t know what’d she COULD do other than keep him in the absolute dark until he inevitably gets caught up in the Shitshow otherwise. i wouldn’t suppose naemon to be 100% willing to join in her efforts or even keep completely quiet about them if she did decide to talk to him about it or let him know; and for all we know, she could’ve planned to do so eventually in some way– but the suddenness of the AD hero’s infiltration of the veiled heritance probably ruined any semblance of a plan she could’ve had. so on second thought, even from a “naemon is a perfect being and i will protect him with my life and loathe all who hurt him” standpoint, i don’t dislike her too much. let’s just reduce estre to like.. honorable mentions on my “disliked characters” list then lmao(also “moral standpoint” as if queen ayrenn is anything close to the pinnacle of absolute morality. estre is objectively worse on that front, though, so i suppose i still stand by that)

speaking of which i really… don’t like pelidil. again, moral standpoint. and “naemon is a perfect being and i will protect him with my life and loathe all who hurt him” standpoint. otherwise, he’s a neat villain and the quest in which you cut him down was one of the more impressive quests in the game IMO, or even in the entire game series. good build-up.

this is getting too long so i’ll cut it there, that’s all the characters that come to mind rn anyways hfhgdhg

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10.) Unpopular opinion about XXX character?

hmmmmmm

i guess if you view it in such a way, liking him is kind of unpopular– while there’s still a lot of those who even if not actively talking about him as a character, have praised his character/took his side/whatever, there’s also a good amount who don’t. not really in considering him a poorly written character, but rather from a (sorry to bring this phrase up so much so far) moral standpoint.

also, considering him in a semi-unironic “he did nothing wrong” way, which i do, is kind of unpopular– and i can understand that, in some ways. i dont think him snapping at the scene of the orrery was under his 100% control nor was anything subsequent, but there’s still the fact that he still is in an “i deserve the throne, fuck off” mindset in coldharbour, which, unless he’s STILL affected by the mantle and/or the orrery, is obviously a negative change in viewpoint compared to the “i’ll swallow my bitterness and remain loyal to my sister and the dominion, she is the rightful queen and i am just her shadow” you saw prior.

granted, i’d argue that even then, you have to consider the influence that pelidil had over him prior (as some have accurately put it before– whispered poison into his ear). especially with the fact that naemon’s quite young for an elf at… 26? around that age-range. i dont think altmer’s minds work in the way that, say, hobbits do, in that they age slower and this includes their mental capability, decision-making, etc.. (they obviously don’t) BUT, compared to an elf with more experience, there’s a bit of an… imbalance there. pelidil WAS the one who served naemon instead of the other way around so you’d figure the opposite if anything, but again, naemon = impressionable and emotionally vulnerable at the time.

anyways, got off-topic; my point was that naemon, when you consider the influence that pelidil and any other secretly heritance people that interacted with him, even when you use the fact that he still seems “corrupted” in coldharbour to frame him as bad… that ain’t it. there’s also the fact that he is being tortured, at that moment. big part of it. he PROBABLY isn’t in the right state of mind, to put it simply. but then again, i mean, one could still argue a whole “cool motive, still murder” take on it, so whatever. i dont know man ghfghduhbdfg

YIKES i rambled, holy shit. sorry. but otherwise, i dont think i have too many? there’s not much in the prince naemon…. sub-fandom, at least not enough to be able to render one opinion as unpopular compared to the next

(and i. Guess that headcanoning him as trans definitely has the potential to be unpopular. but i dont really talk about it or “enforce” it much other than off-hand comments that might imply such, drawing him with top surgery scars, etc.. so it hasn’t exactly been given any room to be considered remotely unpopular. haven’t gotten anon hate, snide comments, etc.. about any of it at all so it’s cool. but i’ve brought it up because… you know how fandoms are; if there was more to the prince naemon “fandom”, theoretically, it would be and therefore kind of IS an unpopular opinion. “does your arm hurt from reaching cassius” ok look, i just felt like i needed to provide one more unpopular opinion about naemon and i couldn’t figure out any other than that. but yes. yes, hurts a little)

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23.) Unpopular character you love?

unpopular as in commonly disliked, or unpopular in… amount of people that like them? with the latter, it’s def naemon. i love him with all my heart gfigufhgdugdfh but then again who didn’t know that

with the former… hm. the thing is a lot of characters disliked in this fandom are disliked with good reason IMO– nevermind. almalexia. not to open any #diskhorse wounds but almalexia’s one of them ghdfhguhg jot that down

and i’ve heard some talk that veya is kind of unpopular, what with the recent summerset developments? yeah, fuck that, veya’s one of my favorites. this fandom (or. any fandom lets be real) has an awful tendency to praise any goddamn male character’s flaws or “negative” depth as redeemable character complexity and something that can be looked past, and yet, you see even REMOTELY the same amount if not more character depth in a female character and they’re hated. pointing this out is nothing new but it’s truly just…. something to behold.

and on that note im just going to renounce my prior statement of “a lot of characters disliked in this fandom are disliked with good reason” that’s the dumbest shit i’ve ever said. or perhaps an addendum stating that it’s only applicable to male characters is more in order? or that it’s the opposite for male characters: liked with bad reason. or… liked with over-exaggerated reason disproportionate to the actual amount of depth, complexity, and/or likeability said character actually has, paired with hatred for female characters with the same amount of complexity. “bruh don’t you obsess over prince naemon–” Yeah And What the Fuck Of It

anyways moving on sorry i got distracted hgdfgyfgh. that’s all the characters that come to mind? disregarding characters that are unpopular in an unappreciated sort of way rather than a disliked way, i really dont have a lot

____ 

salty fandom (elder scrolls) opinions

[peachybumjoon]

Healing | Jewel |

Pairing: Hae-Ju/Taehyung

(Continuation of Heartbreak)

On the way to the restaurant, Hae-Ju didn’t speak much other than when a question was directed to her

“Where do you want to eat Hae-Juie?” Yoongi had turned around in his seat to face her, trying to involve her in the conversation.

“I don’t really care, you guys can pick.” She said then turned back to look out the window. She didn’t want comments to overtake her mind but they did. She wanted to be strong and not care about what others thought but that just wasn’t her. She remembered back to when she first saw hate comments, the guys had reassured her that it wasn’t true. Honestly, she didn’t really believe them, because they’re obligated to say nice things to her. They wouldn’t tell her she's not as talented as the rest of them. ‘So really the only opinion I can trust are the comments.’ she thought to herself, completely broken down from coming to the realization that all the comments are true.

Hae-Ju was normally a quiet person and her friends knew this but Taehyung had noticed that she was a little too quiet. She normally would join into the conversation every once and a while making a snide comment somewhere but the only thing she had said was ‘Thank you’ to the woman that brought them their food. She was sitting there with her head in her hands, stirring her noodles around but not eating.

“Hae-Ju” She raised her head to look at Taehyung who had called her from across the table. “How was your day off today?” He asked with hopes this would reveal what has her acting like this.

“It was fine, I watched tv, scrolled through Instagram and Twitter and I did a Vlive before I left.” Sure fine was a word she thought to herself if discovering you're the black hole of your group is fine. She decided to take a bite of her food, even though her appetite was gone, to make sure no one was suspicious.

“Oh really? What did you do during the Vlive?” Jimin had now asked, oblivious to what Taehyung was doing but ultimately helped him. As soon as she was asked that her face turned white, and she was hesitant to answer.

“Normal stuff I guess, asked how they were, talked about the comeback, gave a spoiler, they asked about the necklace you gave me.” She left out the comments she had gotten but she still recalled them in her head, over and over again.

“Whoa, wait, back up, you gave a spoiler?” Namjoon had now spoken up.

“Uh, yeah, they asked about my favourite song on the album and I started humming it by accident. They said it was beautiful.”

“What song?”

“Outro.” She confessed this caused the others to laugh at the fact that she not only spoiled it but it definitely wasn't meant to be a beautiful song so the fans were going to be shocked.

“Only Hae-Ju could make a song like outro:tear sound beautiful,” Jungkook said while laughing with the others, Hae-Ju only provided a giggle before going back into her own world.

Taehyung hadn’t seen Hae-Ju since they got back to the house, everyone was sitting in the living room but she had excused herself to her room saying she was too tired. He could tell the others believed the lie but Taehyung couldn’t be easily fooled. He knew that it had something to do with the Vlive, but he was sure if it was too serious she would have come to one of them. He was looking on twitter when he had noticed that ‘#weloveyouhaeju’ was trending, he had thought maybe the fans were doing something nice but as he was going through the tweets he saw people talking about the comments she had received. Taehyung decided this wasn’t something small and he certainly wasn’t waiting for her to come to him.

“Hae-Ju I’m coming in so be prepared.” He said as he knocked on the door. When he walked in all he saw was a lump under the comforter but it was clear what she was doing by the sniffles filling the room. “Hae-Juie, please come out, I know why you're upset.” He said as he started to rub her back. Her head began to peak out from under the protection of the blanket and he could see her puffy eyes filled with tears. Unable to contain the heartbreak he felt from seeing her like this he gave her a tight hug, patting her head while giving relaxing words. They parted when her breathing slowed, her face glistening with tears that he then wiped away. “Talk to me.” He told her.

“About what?” She decided to play dumb even though she couldn’t really hide anymore.

“Jewel, C'mon, it's trending on Twitter.” He said while giving her a loving smile.

“It's trending that I’m the worst member?” She exhaled with shock and more tears.

“No, no, no.” He said while grabbing her hands. “How much everyone loves you and agrees you belong in BTS is trending.” He was now fuming with the fact that someone had convinced her of this lie. “Did someone say you were the worst member?”

“Well, it was definitely more than one person.” She bowed her head, a tear slipped out and fell on their clasped hands.

“Please just stop avoiding this and tell me what happened.” He was getting tired of her beating around the bush.

“The first comment I saw was them were asking about Jungkook, they told me to get him to go on and then they said he was a better dancer. I guess that shouldn’t make me sad, its the truth.”

“Stop, it's still rude, don’t try to excuse this. Anyway, continue please.”

“Uh, well the second one was when I was showing off the necklace Jimin gave me, I mentioned it was probably expensive. Well, then I saw a comment that said.” She began to choke up again, it took her a minute to calm down. “It said that you guys thought of me as a charity case and that I probably don’t make as much as you do.” She then started laughing. “How pathetic right, how can I be that vain.”

“Hae-Juie, stop, really, I mean it this is not okay, people should not be talking to you like this.” He brought her hands closer to his chest as if he was pleading with her.

“Honestly, I was okay with those comments, the third one I saw was really what got me I guess,” He motioned for her to continue. “Well I had asked them what was their favourite moment of the last comeback, and I had seen a comment that said their favourite moment was when I went to the hospital.” Her crying became uncontrollable now, no matter how much she tried to calm down.

“I cannot believe some people, Hae-Juie you know none of this is true, you are great at dancing, you're not a charity case and whoever wishes bad on you is not a real fan. You’re so amazing, I cannot believe you would believe any of this, you know how talented you are, you are so valued on this team. We would be nowhere without you.”

“Stop trying to cheer me up Tae, I know everything they say is true. You guys are just too nice to really tell me that I'm the black hole.”

“Hae-Ju, I'm about to get really mad. If you were the black hole why would you be the main singer, the visual, one of the most promoted member? It’s because you make the team 10x better, you know this.” He could feel the steam leaving his ears.

Before he could keep going she hugged him tightly. “Okay, I get it, just confess your love for me already.” They both started to laugh.

“Whatever, but seriously Hae-Juie, I'm telling the truth.”

“I know that now.”

They then laid down together, hugging. Hae-Ju told him about her insecurities, she started crying again but she felt better once she told him. They fell asleep cuddling, the members found them in the morning and gained a large collection of photos from it. Once the two woke up they had a team meeting where the rest assured her just how valued she was.

[notsoguiltykpop]

The Tenth Floor pt15

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader & Taehyung x Reader

Min Yoongi had gone through 34 secretaries in the past 24 months, and each one of them left in tears. This fact alone should have warned you against taking the job, but the pay was too good to pass up. Surely you could put up with a billionaires temper-tantrums, right?

Genre: Fluff, humor, probably some angst

Warnings: Strong language, smut talked about/implied, some dark themes

Chapter Warning: Kind of substance abuse? Cough syrup abuse.

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

Yoongi did follow you, albeit somewhat reluctantly. At first, he stayed a fair space behind you, as though scared to walk side by side. To someone who didn’t know any better, they might have thought he was stalking you, stopping four feet away when you paused to look across the street, and keeping up the distance when you continued. It was irksome, but not so much so that you would tell him to cut it out and try to be normal. As it was, the only reminder that you were actually allowing Min Yoongi to know where you lived was the faint click of his shoes on the sidewalk.

“Here.” Yoongi interrupted the silence that had surrounded you for the last five minutes or so abruptly, and when you turned to him, you saw him holding out his jacket without looking directly at you.

“What?” You snapped. You definitely liked it better when he wasn’t talking.

“I’m too hot anyway.” Yoongi said gruffly. “You should wear it, you look cold.”

You were cold, but that didn’t mean you were going to take anything from him. Besides, you could tell by his red-tipped nose in the dim light that he was lying; he was just as frozen at that point as you were. “You’re not going to accomplish anything by giving me your jacket, so you might as well put it back on.”

Yoongi looked indignant. “I’m not trying to ‘accomplish’ something, I just said I was too hot, so you might as well wear it.”

You scoffed, turning away from him. The idea that he still thought he might win you over was absurd, and the fact that he was trying was mildly insulting. Yet, the action made you hesitate, if only momentarily, which was one of the main reasons you refused. It was a kind gesture, and you could feel yourself melting slightly because of it. You supposed in theory you could wear the jacket and take joy in the fact that he was that much more miserable, but you feared that it was more likely that you would instead start forgetting your anger and giving in to his and Taehyung’s game.

It wasn’t until you stepped into your apartment building that you noticed that Yoongi hadn’t ever put his jacket back on. You were about to make a snide comment, perhaps a jab at the fact that his pride had made him suffer completely unnecessary when you noticed how sickly he looked in the light. A cold sweat was starting on his brow, and he loosened his tie absently as you studied him. “Are… You okay?” You asked slowly.

“Yeah, why?” He raised an eyebrow as he followed you into the elevator. You’d forgotten how rickety it felt, and were more aware of how loud it was standing next to Yoongi. But he either wasn’t aware of it, or didn’t show that he was.

“You don’t… Look okay.” You replied. You were half furious at yourself for noticing and caring, and half concerned about him. Without thinking, you held out a hand and put it to his forehead. “You have a fever.”

Yoongi brushed your hand away looking somewhat alarmed by it, then rubbed his eyes. “Flu medicine ’s wearing off.” He muttered.

You stared at him incredulously. “You have the flu?” It was a redundant question, you knew, but you would have thought he would have said something earlier.

“Do you care?” He countered. “It isn’t a big deal, I just need some rest.”

“You didn’t think maybe you should let other people know you were sick?” You continued regardless as you stepped out of the elevator.

“I said I was tired!” Yoongi snapped. That was true, and looking back, he had stayed as far away from people as possible the whole night. You had assumed he was just being antisocial. “What difference would it have made? If I didn’t show up because I’m sick, everyone would think I was lying. And no one would have known better if I’d gotten home an hour and a half ago like I was supposed to.”

He followed you into your apartment, palms pressed to his eyes. “I feel like shit.”

“You look like shit.” You said, and he shot you a glare. Sighing, you opened a few kitchen cabinets before finding something for his fever. You set it on the counter in front of him, and he said a quiet “thanks” in return. “I’m going to change into something warmer, and then I’ll drive you home.” You told him, and he nodded absently. “Just how much flu medicine did you take for you to be able act normal earlier?” You couldn’t help the question.

Yoongi shrugged. “I dunno. Enough that I felt a dizzy for a while.”

You almost scolded him, told him that overdosing on cough medicine was dangerous and stupid, but stopped yourself. It wasn’t any of your business. If he wanted to get high off DXM, that was his problem, not yours. “Whatever.” You muttered. You needed to stop asking questions; the sooner he was out of your home, the better.

You changed quickly into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, but when you walked back to the living area, you found Yoongi passed out on your couch. Your first thought was to wake him up and drag him to your car, but you did no such thing. Instead, for some reason you couldn’t explain, you grabbed an extra blanket and draped it over his shoulders. He muttered something you couldn’t quite understand, and thinking that he had woken up, you asked “What?”

“Thank you.” Yoongi said somewhat more coherently. You blinked, taken aback.

“Just… Get some sleep.” You said, unsure of what else to do or say.

“Fuck off, I’ll do what I want.” His voice trailed off as he mumbled this, and you realized he was talking in his sleep. You laughed under your breath. He wasn’t even a normal person in his dreams.

When you woke on Saturday morning, you didn’t initially remember that Min Yoongi was sleeping in your house. But when you exited your room and found him sprawled sideways on your couch, one arm slung over his eyes to keep out the bright light of day, it all came back to you.

It was funny, you thought, how easily you were swayed by this man. Only the day before, you wanted nothing to do with him, save for the money you got from working with him. Now, you didn’t know how to feel. Were you angry? Yes. But it wasn’t the burning rage that had made your blood boil at the thought of him days before. More than anything, you were frustrated and confused by him now. 

You were curious about him--who he was, what he did in his spare time, the reasons for his actions--and you wanted desperately to understand, though you suspected that it wouldn’t help you. Everything you had learned about Yoongi only seemed to hurt your further, and sometimes you wondered if he himself even knew who he was, his character was so convoluted and twisted.

You glanced at him again, sleeping relatively peacefully. He looked better than he had the night before, and you were grateful for it. Like this, he didn’t seem intimidating or scary, he just looked like... Well, a normal person. One you could get to know, and one who had normal interests, hobbies, and fears. Someone you could relate to, perhaps, and share stories with.

You stopped that train of thought there, however.

Maybe it was a form of stockholm syndrome, you thought. Was that even possible? You had no idea, but you decided the question could wait until you’d found something to eat.

You’d left your phone on the kitchen counter the night before, too distracted to plug it in. You glanced at it briefly to check the time, and grimaced when you saw the number of missed calls and messages. Many of them appeared to be from Jessica, while three were from a number you didn’t recognize. You sighed, putting it back down. Whatever it was, they could wait.

It was no wonder you were hungry, it was after 11am. You’d just sat down with a bowl of cereal when Yoongi dragged himself off the couch, taking the blanket with him as he walked over to sit across from you at your table.

“Why am I in your house?” He asked flatly.

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Because you fell asleep last night and I didn’t want to wake you up--you clearly needed the rest.” He blinked slowly. “You don’t remember being here?” 

“Fevers have a bad effect on me, and I think I took too much cough syrup.” He replied. “I remember walking here, but not much after that. Also, your couch sucks as a bed.”  

You sighed. Yoongi was clearly feeling more like himself, judging by his blunt tone. But he still looked and sounded sick, and you tried not to care. “You should take time off when you’re sick.” You said rather than address his words. “You would recover faster if you didn’t push yourself--that’s probably why you were so sick last night. You went out and exerted yourself when you should’ve been resting, and then all the physical exercise of walking here...” You shook your head disapprovingly.

Yoongi didn’t look like he appreciated your mini-lecture, but your doorbell buzzing interrupted him before he could start complaining about it.

“Are you expecting company?” He asked.

You ignored him. It was probably your neighbor, ready to tell you off for letting someone stay the night. Mrs. Brickman had spider-senses when it came to that sort of thing, and never hesitated to let people know how much she disapproved. So when you opened the door and found yourself face-to-face with Jungkook, you were startled.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m making sure you’re not dead.” Jungkook was frowning, his arms folded. “I wouldn’t have had to come all the way here if you’d just answered your texts like a normal person.”

“How do you even have my number?” You could never really predict what Jungkook was going to do next, so perhaps in that respect it shouldn’t have been surprising. You might have been annoyed if you weren’t so confused.

“Oh, please. It takes a two minute google search to find someone’s number, don’t act surprised.” Jungkook then stepped past you into your apartment. You did try to stop him, but it wasn’t much use. “I don’t want to be weird, but I got worried when I didn’t hear back from you. After knowing what Yoongi and Taehyung said, who knows what they would do--” He stopped upon seeing Yoongi still sitting at your breakfast table. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” You said dryly. “Oh.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. “You didn’t.”

You shook your head quickly, knowing what it must look like. “God, no--are you judging me right now? You, of all people?”

Jungkook grimaced. “I didn’t mean it that way--just, he’s such a…” He stopped and glanced at Yoongi.

“Does everyone but me know where you live?” Yoongi asked. By some miracle, he apparently hadn’t been paying attention to what Jungkook was saying only moments before, instead looking at his phone.

“You’re here.” Jungkook raised his eyebrows at Yoongi. “So wouldn't you know where she lives as well?”

“I have no fucking clue where this is.” Yoongi shot back, then seemed to think about what he had just said.

“Did you drug him?” Jungkook turned to you suspiciously.

“He drugged himself, but that isn’t the point.” Jungkook looked like he wanted more of an explanation on the subject, but you didn’t give him the chance to ask. “I’m fine; thanks for your concern, I guess, but you can leave now.”

“You can drive me home at the same time.” Yoongi cut in. He had his palms covering his eyes once more, and his elbows leaning on the table.

“Seriously, what’s wrong with him?” Jungkook asked you.

“Apparently, he has the flu.” You said. You phone started ringing, making you and Yoongi both jump. You answered it without looking at who it was. Too much was happening at once, and you didn’t like it.

“Open the door, my hands are full.” It was Jessica’s voice that greeted you, and you had never been so panicked hearing your friends voice. “I totally forgot there’s this conference thing I’m supposed to go to later, and I need my dress back. I tried to text you, but you never got back to me.”

Oh, good god. This couldn’t get worse, you were sure. The situation wouldn’t be so terrible if Jungkook wasn’t currently standing in your apartment, but it was made a worse by Yoongi’s presence on top of that. You longed for the floor to open up and swallow you whole, but your wishes were left ungranted. “I’ll bring it out to you, just wait there. No, wait downstairs.” You took a few steps further away from Yoongi and Jungkook so they might not hear what you were saying.

“What are you talking about, just open the door--” There was a knocking on your door that sounded like Jessica was using her foot rather than her fist.

“Don’t--” You started, but Jungkook was closer to the door, and much faster than you. He stood dumbfounded with the door still open as you hurried over.

“How dare you.” Jessica said lowly, glaring at Jungkook. “You have some fucking nerve to be here.”

“Jessica, I can explain--” You started, pushing past Jungkook who was as still as a statue.

“Explain?” Jessica said weakly. She had two to-go cups of iced coffee in her hands, one you guessed was supposed to be for you. “Knowing what he did to me--knowing what a piece of shit he is, you still--god, how could you do this to me?” Tears were welling in her eyes as she spoke, and Jungkook finally came back to his senses.

“You know each other?” He all but whispered.

Jessica’s response was to drop one of the cups of coffee, rip the lid off the other, and throw it’s contents into Jungkook’s face. Some of it landed on you, but the majority soaked into Jungkook’s shirt and hair. “Fucking scumbag.” She said as she walked away.

Jungkook didn’t waste any time chasing after her. You heard his “Jessica--Jess, wait. Please?” as he followed her down the hall, and you debated whether or not you should do the same. You deemed that it might be best that you didn’t, because Jessica’s anger wasn’t only at Jungkook, and both of you pursuing her would likely do more harm than good.

“Who was that?” Yoongi asked, walking up to stand beside you, sticking his head out the door to see their retreating forms.

“Jessica.” You said. Yoongi didn’t look like he knew who you were talking about, so you added; “She was your secretary for almost two weeks, remember?”

Yoongi shrugged. “I’ve had a lot of secretaries. It takes at least four weeks for me to remember their names.”

You turned to him slowly. “Is that why you never refer to me by name?” You asked. “Because you don’t know it what it is?”

Yoongi shifted his weight. “No.”

“It is, isn’t it?” You demanded. “You don’t know my name.”

“I do too.” Yoongi said, his tone slightly resentful.

“Oh, really?” You took a step towards him, so you were nearly nose-to-nose. “Then what is it?” You were sure he wouldn’t have an answer, that he would continue trying to avoid the question.

“Y/n.” Yoongi said simply. “Your name is Y/n.”

You wished you hadn’t made him say it. Hearing your name from his lips, in his voice made you feel things you knew you shouldn’t. You were in far, far too deep, and if you weren’t careful, you’d end up drowning. 

A/N Two updates in the same week, both over 2k words long?! It’s been a while lol! I’m going to see if I can finish up the next part of Royals soon, Jimin is killing me recently ;-; Thanks for reading this, and let me know what you think, of course! Originally there was going to be a lot more to this chapter, but sometimes I prefer to update more consistently rather than with longer parts haha. Also, have any of you ever taken too much cough syrup? I did one time before I knew it makes you loopy, it was a weird day (I didn’t even take all that much, I’m just a lightweight lol) 0/10 would not recommend.

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