#please think for a moment that it is difficult to not only move and uproot your entire life and family

[quaranmine]

people in chat telling scar to just move to a country with free healthcare are not being as helpful as they think.....

[auroracalisto]

in life and death

summary: in the events of dark phoenix, the reader is reunited with her twin brother charles, even though she tried her hardest to stay away from him after their mother sent her away and explained to charles that she had died, all the while trying to not let erik freak out when he realizes that he is, indeed, in love with someone else related to charles.  

pairing: erik lehnsherr x female reader, twin! charles x twin! reader

word count: 2k words

warnings: canon divergence, reader is charles twin (i said she vaguely looks like him, but i don’t describe any physical appearance other than that), cussing, typical jean grey shit, not any actual violence, sibling banter towards the end, lots of death mentions, usage of mutation abilities (reader is able to manipulate anatomy, and in a way, place “blocks” in people’s minds for certain things, therefore manipulating their anatomy to block off certain parts of their memories), abusive relationship with reader’s mother in this for sure, talks of funeral and gravestone.  

a/n: i still haven’t watched dark phoenix so i took some creative liberty and loosely read the wikipedia page.  also, this was written as a request for @nuclearpizza84​.  i hope you enjoy :) if it’s not to your liking, please be sure to let me know and i’ll see what i can do!

The red haired woman had just appeared, introducing herself as Jean Grey.  Erik immediately welcomed her into your home, without batting an eye your way.  An uneasy feeling washed throughout your body, but you thought nothing of it until Jean started asking Erik for his help—that she had once again done something bad, and she didn’t know how to fix it. 

Your fingers tapped repeatedly on your leg as you watched Erik from where you sat.  “I don’t think this is a good idea,” you mumbled, watching him.  Erik always tended to help any of those who came to his door.  While not necessarily a bad thing, sometimes it was.  With times like this, you knew that there was something wrong. 

Jean knew what you were thinking—your discomfort with her was practically radiating off of your body.  But she didn’t care.  She didn’t come here for your help.  She didn’t even know who you were, other than the fact that you looked strangely similar to Professor Xavier.  She had come for Erik, knowing that in the past, he had been rogue himself and had dealt with Charles.  She had nowhere else to go, other than Genosha.  The only place where mutants could go for refuge, if they were running from even the school. 

Erik sighed softly at you.  He reached over and gently took your hand.  “I know Jean.  I’m going to help her,” he said.  “I’ve no reason to turn her away.”

You just nodded, casting a glance towards the woman.  Nothing more was said between you and your fiancée.  You just watched, listening to them talk.  Jean kept looking in your direction, and you didn’t quite understand why.  Perhaps it was best that Charles did not know where you were—then, people like Jean wouldn’t come knocking on your door, asking for your brother’s help when you hadn’t been around him in years.  You stayed in your mind for some time, eventually standing up to go and sit your glass of water back in the kitchen. 

That was, until the sound of helicopters came from outside of your home.  You tensed.  That didn’t happen often, unless something was wrong.  You looked straight at Jean. 

“What are they here for?” you asked the woman. 

She didn’t answer, going to the door.  She opened it up, looking at what was going on.  Your heart pounded in your chest. 

“Erik,” you spoke, walking over to your lover. 

The speaker attached to one of the helicopters, proclaiming that Jean needed to peacefully surrender—or else, of course, they would use force. 

When Jean attacked, you knew it was over.  Erik wouldn’t help—something that you were hoping would happen, but you never knew how soon it would have happened.  Fate just seemed to be on your side at that moment, but you knew that it was only a matter of time before Erik decided to uproot you and return to America, helping your brother out with yet another deadly endeavor—even if Erik had no idea that the two of you were actually related.  With your ability, you had made it to where Charles would not recognize you, and you made sure that Erik would never be able to make out the similarities that you and your twin shared.  It was only right—after years of your brother believing you were dead; you did not want to bring that raining down on his shoulders.

—

The news reached the mutant refuge, and Erik did not talk to you for some time.  Raven was dead, and she had been killed by Jean herself.  Erik was angry.  He had once loved Raven—you knew of this.  It wasn’t hard to see how he still cared for his friend, especially in a moment like this.  Who wouldn’t still care for someone they spent so long with?  You understood where his anger came from, and you stayed there, waiting for him to say something to you—anything. 

In his fit of rage, Erik looked you dead in the eye.  “I’ll kill her.”

You parted your lips to talk, but you didn’t know what to say that would calm him.  You reached out and took his hand.  “We can’t go alone.  You saw how powerful she was…”

There was no point in trying to stop him.  Once Erik had something in his mind, it took him a long time to detach himself from it. 

“That’s fine by me,” he snarled, taking in a deep breath.  “Pack a bag.  We’re leaving, tonight.”

—

Being surrounded by other mutants, you never once thought that you would have to look out for familiar faces.  But Charles stood there, trying to stop people from fighting. 

“There is no point in it,” you heard him say from a distance.  “You’re only hurting yourselves by fighting each other.”

You scoffed.  He was always like that—even when you were children.

That being said, it had been years since you last saw him.  The mental block you applied to him made it to where he would never be able to recognize you as his sister.

At a young age, your mother had split the two of you apart, recognizing that two children exactly alike had not been something she wanted.  So, she kept the boy, and got rid of the girl, quickly explaining to Charles that his sister was dead.  But now, standing there, you wondered why he never came to find you.  You were obviously alive, and you knew you weren’t making it easy on him—but why in the world had he never even tried? 

Charles never once came to Erik, asking for help to find you.  You were alive and well, that much was given.  A part of you also remembered how your mother was.  It was likely that she decided to make things easier on Charles and instead of saying she just gave you away, you had died.  In a moment of self-pity, you wondered if your mother had made you a fake grave.  Maybe you should visit it one day, see if Charles visited it often. 

Erik had long run inside the building that Jean had ran into earlier.  Charles had tried to talk some sense into him, but to no avail. 

And for a moment, you felt your block on Charles slipping.  You were tired.  And the fact that you were so close to him did not help.  Your block was breaking.  His eyes locked with yours and immediately, he recognized you.  Of course, he did. 

“Oh shit,” you breathed out. 

“[Your name]?” Charles blinked slowly, staring at you in disbelief.  “How are you here?  What—”

“Don’t.”

“What—what do you mean, don’t?  How are you here?  I’ve—you’re dead,” he squeezed his eyes shut.

You sighed softly.  “I’m very much alive, Charles.”

“But mother said—”

“—mother said a lot of things.”

Charles pursed his lips.  You were right. 

“Alright.  We can talk about this later.  But please.  We need to help Jean, not hurt her.  She’s scared.  She doesn’t understand how to control what’s going on.  She hasn’t meant to hurt anyone—”

“—she killed your sister,” you said.  You knew all about how Raven was his adopted sister.  Nothing against her, of course.  It was all your mother’s doing.  Who knew that Erik always had a thing for people related to Charles?

He took in a deep breath.  “Yes.  She killed who I grew up with as a sister. But she did not mean to.  We did not know how to handle her.”

“Oh, and what changed?”

“Being this way is not going to help anyone.  She is going to kill Erik, unless we all agree to stop—”

“—sorry, Charles, no can do.”

—

Time seemed to speed up, and hours promptly passed by.  The alien, Vuk tried her hardest to get everything from Jean.  In the process, disaster struck. 

You had just reunited with Erik when you were struck in the shoulder with a stun weapon.  As you fell to the ground, you heard Erik shout.  Then, everything went black.

Waking up, you slowly took in your surroundings.  You were on a train.  Without a clue where you were heading, you took the time to breathe deep.  Erik was to your right.  You could feel him moving around—he must have already been awake, and now, he was struggling to get out of the restraints. 

Charles sat straight across from you, his eyes dead set in a glare pointed at the ground. 

You cleared your throat, resting your head on the wall behind you.  “Charles.”

He said nothing.  

You looked over at Erik, who shrugged.  “He’s been silent ever since we were captured.”

“Were you not shot—”

“—no.  Collar.  You’ve got one now, too.”

You squeezed your eyes shut.

“They put it on me while I aided you,” he chuckled softly.  “I suppose it is my own fault…”

“None of this would have happened had you allowed me to talk some sense into her,” Charles spoke, looking up at his old friend.  “Had you not attacked her; she would have been calm.  She was scared, Erik.  I’m sure she still is.  I can feel her.  She is at war with herself, and you have only aided in making her feel worse.”

“Could you feel me?” you asked.

“Quite impossible when you make it difficult for me to recognize you,” Charles immediately recounted.  “How did you manage that?  You’ve the ability to just manipulate minds?  Nothing more, nothing less?  I only felt you when your block dissolved.  What does it take for it to do that?”

Charles was angry.

You stared him down.  He returned your gaze.

For a set of twins that had been apart for decades at this point, you acted as if you had never once been split up. 

“I can alter anatomy.”

“Can you now?” he scoffed.  “You know.  I would have thought that perhaps you would understand that not everyone is inherently evil.  She is still good, [Your name].”

“Why would I understand that?”

Charles sighed.  “Despite not being able to recognize you while you still had that going on, had I just focused, I could read your mind.  You’ve been engaged for how long, Erik?  To my sister?”

Erik blinked rapidly.  “What?”

This, was of course, news to him.  You never said anything about it.  Charles was about to open a new can of worms that would blow up in your face after all of this was said and done. 

“Nothing,” you shot at Erik.  “It’s nothing.  Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re siblings?” Erik asked. 

“Stop it,” you groaned. 

Charles clenched his jaw and he looked away from you. 

“Look,” you began, frowning.  “I’m sorry.  I should have reached out to you sooner.  More specifically, when I heard that mother died.  But I didn’t.  I didn’t know where to start looking—”

“—I never left the house.”

You looked towards the floor.  “Now I know that.  I should have come sooner.  I should have told Erik and allowed him to tell you.  But I thought that it would hurt more, knowing that mom just lied to us.  To you, really.”

“She told me that you died.  She set up an actual funeral, fit with a coffin and a headstone.  She really played the part,” Charles said.

“I wondered that earlier, but now that you tell me that, it hurts a lot more,” you tried to laugh, as the realization that your mother probably hated you with every fiber in her ran through your head.  “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry it took… whatever the hell this is for you to realize that I’m still very much alive.”

“Perhaps we can speak about this later,” Charles began.  “We should focus on getting out of here, before something worse happens.”

And of course, Charles had to speak it into existence.  A loud, deafening bang nearly made you scream. 

The aliens were back—and this time, they weren’t about to go easy on anyone. 

[funkymbtifiction]

Please, help me understand Fi more.

Hello! I hope you are enjoying your day!

I was hoping that could help me understand xSFP types and Fi types in general better, because as an ENFJ most of them seem reckless, annoying and egotistical to me. It’s easy to resonate with some of their fears and desires, however, I don’t really get them.

E.g.: in ‘Shadow and Bone’ Alina Starkov’s whole personality is a huge red flag. It is quite difficult to understand how one can think only about herself (and Mal sometimes) when there are much stronger forces at work and you can feel that historical events are literally at your doorstep. It’s quite surprising to see Alina not making any effort(she doesn’t really want to know other Grisha or train or even think about what is going to happen). She gets a chance to feel normal, to fit in, to have a kind of family with other mages, and yet…

As you have probably guessed, I have no problem understanding Kirigan’s intentions, but I would like to understand Fi a bit better, as there a lot of main characters with Fi.

Thanks in advance.

I am enjoying my day, thanks. I got done with work early, and realized I’m exhausted, though, so I doubt I’ll get much more ‘productivity’ done today.

SFP / SP types “live in the moment” and focus on what is immediately in front of them; they don’t see or look for the big picture, and whatever Ni flashes of insight they have are rational “sequence of order” premonitions. For that reason, you cannot judge them from an NF big-picture perspective, because their focus is here and now. Sometimes, they are reckless; other times, they are “on point” and skilled at seeing what is coming and doing something about it (either being part of it, or getting the hell out of Dodge).

I had a conversation with a friend one time about Marie Antoinette, as we debated whether she was ESFP or ISFP, and she pointed out that Marie could not have been ESFP, or she would have had a quicker sense of the reality of her situation. One of her ladies in waiting, an ESFP, saw what was happening and the way the trend was moving toward beheading aristocrats and left France. Marie was swept up in it all, and a casualty of it, because her feelings (subjectivity) outweighed her Se objectivity.

That is, in a nutshell, what is happening with Alina. Her personal feelings are directing every decision she makes. You have to “get” her not only from an ISFP perspective, but a 6 perspective, and factor in that she’s a social-blind Enneagram type. Her feelings are all that matter to her. Her feelings dictate her actions. Who she cares about influences her choices. She is a Fi-dom. Fi-doms have barometers that are in flux between “I love this,” “I hate this,” and “I don’t care.” For love, they love a lot. For hate, they loathe. And for the “I don’t care,” there’s no middle ground, and no need to think about it further, because they really do not care. Fi weighs everything according to itself – what its ethical judgment is about this thing, person, situation, belief, etc. How *I* judge it.

Alina is an orphan who has only ever had her best friend, and she is ripped away from him without any choice in the matter, and forced to attend a magical school where the only other person who seems to care about her, and offer her protection and guidance (the same thing Mal did) is the general. She’s an sx-user – if she doesn’t have fire with someone, she doesn’t “bond” with them. She’s an sp-user, she wants to feel safe and keep herself “okay.” She has no social instinct, which means friends aren’t to be made for “casual reasons.” (To be honest, that baffles me to; I have strong soc and not to make friends, take an interest in the other girls at the school, and think about what my role is would never occur to me.) She is a Se user, so she’s thinking about what is immediate and what she wants rather than seeing the bigger picture. It takes her time to start doing that, to start breaking down things and trusting her Ni, and by the end, she has a sense of her place of “belonging” in the world, but it’s still… about the person she cares about the most. It will always be that way.

She’s a Fi-dom, she has sx, and she’s a 6 – she NEEDS Mal. The story is all about a 6 learning to trust herself and do things for herself, rather than relying on other people all the time; like the Darkling’s mother said, you can’t always be using “amplifiers” (other people), you need to do it yourself. Every 6 must learn this. She’s about her connection to Mal (and later, the Darkling) and protecting that person; that is the central focus and drive of her life: I need you and me to be safe, and to be together. Other ISFPs aren’t like this. Harry Potter is one, and he takes on plenty of things that are “not his problem” because his Fi says, “Wait a damn minute here… this is WRONG. I MUST ACT.” SFPs act on what they feel is right – you see it in Harry Potter, in Buffy Summers, in Legolas Greenleaf, in Thomas from the Maze Runner. Feelings lead to action.

Fe/Fi conflicts a lot, and it’s not hard to see why, because it’s going in opposite directions. FJs want to be situationally-appropriate, FPs want to live their truth. FJs feel like they are obligated to society, to put themselves aside and work for a greater good; FPs feel like society is made up of individuals who should make their own choices, and not be “forced” to do anything. For an FP, it’s a choice of “*I* am going to do this, because it’s the RIGHT thing to do.” Consider Frodo in LotR. He didn’t have to take the ring, and throw his entire life into the toilet in the process, but he decided, with his Fi, it is the Right and Moral thing to do, and that the task should be his. The Ring came to him. It’s his responsibility.

Alina was not given a choice; she was revealed to have magic, and forced away from the man she cared about, her entire life uprooted – and it was not her choice. IFPs just want to live their life free of outside interference and for others to be able to do the same. Some of them are selfish, some are generous. Some of them would make friends, others would not. Some of them would say, “I have a responsibility to society to do X,” others would say “X is not my problem.” It’s all dependent on the individual. That’s what you need to remember about Fi: it’s all subjective. Everything for a Fi is subjective. You won’t find two Fi’s who are exactly alike in terms of what they think is right, if they feel responsible for what happens, or what should happen. They live in a world of a continuous testing of the outer world, to see where their barometer arrow swings. Do I care? If so, what am I going to do about it? If not, then what?

Ironically, an INFP introduced me to this show. As it turns out, her Fi only cares about the trio of Crows, so she watched it focused on them and sometimes felt angry about the changes to the book / their characters; she didn’t care about anything else, so she didn’t absorb it (or even necessarily watch other scenes). I watched it, absorbed everything, but only cared about the Darkling’s arc, as I found him the most interesting. As a result, we have nothing to talk about after seeing the show, since she only cares about the Crows and I don’t care about the Crows. For both of us, the viewing process was a process of looking for something to care about, something that means something to us as individuals, and devaluing everything else. That’s how Fi works: if I care, I care a lot. And this matters more to me than that does. It comes with a subtle tone of dismissal at times -- I don’t care about that -- but it’s really a process of what draws Fi.

That is just the tip of the iceberg about Fi; you can read a lot more about them and all the types in my upcoming MBTI book. ;)

[stufftippywrote]

5 People Who Interrupted LWJ&WWX, and 1 Who (Kind of) Didn’t

22 from this list! Still open to prompts!

This is decidedly book continuity, and for about seven words Wei Wuxian does pay lip service to his dubcon kink, so if that's a squick for you, skip number 3.

1) Lan Sizhui

It was after curfew and Sizhui shouldn't have been wandering around the buildings at night. That's the explanation Wei Wuxian will go with, if he's called to account for this little misunderstanding. He doubts it will happen, though; Sizhui's far too kind-hearted to go running to the sect leader or Lan Qiren with evidence of what he's seen.

What happened was this: Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji had been researching various topics in the library pavillion as the sun went down, and lost track of time. Most notably, Lan Wangji had been exhaustively researching the curve of Wei Wuxian's neck, the jut of his collarbone, and Wei Wuxian was deep in study of the coolness of the floors contrasted with the heat of Lan Wangji's body on his. Lan Wangji had just been shifting his area of focus from neck to jaw to lips when there was a sudden noise by the door. He immediately moved off of Wei Wuxian and stood, but it was too late; Sizhui was already standing in the doorway, his face red.

"I was just -- locking up -- I'll just go -- since you're busy," he stammered, then very carefully pulled the door closed and disappeared.

Lan Wangji looked down at a still very horizontal Wei Wuxian. "We should go back."

"What?" Wei Wuxian whined. "We were in the middle of something."

"If Sizhui's locking up, it's time to go," Lan Wangji repeated, and Wei Wuxian grumpily got to his feet and obeyed.

They got back into it in the Jingshi, but it just wasn’t the same.

2) Lan Qiren

This time is on purpose. And probably justified.

It's very quiet at Cloud Recesses, which (occasionally) irks the hell out of Wei Wuxian. Still, he goes along with it, most of the time, if only because he doesn't want to get kicked out by certain angry uncles. But there are times when it's just plain impossible.

One of those times is when Lan Wangji is sucking on his earlobe, hands under his robes, teasingly brushing over certain places where Wei Wuxian is aching for a firmer touch. Wei Wuxian thinks he's going to go out of his mind with sensation. The only thing he can do is clutch at Lan Wangji's shoulders, try to encourage those too-patient hands, and moan "Lan er-gege, please, more" in a voice unrestrained by the foolish rules of the Lan Clan.

Lan Wangji stiffens at the name, then drowns Wei Wuxian in a kiss so fierce and deep that Wei Wuxian shouts against it, his whole body flooding with want.

A moment later, there are footsteps and a knock on the door.

Lan Wangji has very attuned senses. "It's Uncle," he says, and draws back.

"Uncle? What is your uncle doing here when we're busy!"

As if in answer, outside the doors, the barking voice of Lan Qiren: "Wangji, please remind your guest about the noise restrictions of the Cloud Recesses. Thank you." And that's it, he retreats.

Wei Wuxian laughs and tries to pull Lan Wangji back toward him, but Lan Wangji is still staring at the door, and he won't budge.

"Lan Zhan," he prods, poking at Lan Wangji's arm.

Lan Wangji remains unmoving.

"Lan er-gege." Wei Wuxian crawls toward him and slides a hand up his arm, grinning.

"We should be more careful," Lan Wangji says. His voice is devoid of the roughness that comes when he's being passionate.

"Oh, come on." Wei Wuxian sighs. "You're not in the mood anymore?"

Lan Wangji's ears turn pink. "It was my uncle," he says, as though that explains everything.

"Lan Zhaaaan." Wei Wuxian groans the name. "You said every day, remember?"

"Later," Lan Wangji says. "And quietly."

3) Nie Huaisang

The Discussion Conference that year is held in Qinghe, and while Lan Wangji doesn't tend to show up for these things, Nie Huaisang sends so many letters begging him to attend that he eventually relents. When they arrive, Clan Leader Nie is in a state, begging for their help in this matter and that. Won't they help him figure out how he's to handle a particularly picky sect leader who's unhappy with his room, and how can he avoid seating these two together when they hate each other Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji do their best to be of use, but the minute Nie Huaisang leaves them alone, they hurry down the corridor and out of the building for some much-needed fresh air.

They find themselves in a secluded courtyard, shaded by a pair of gnarled trees. Wei Wuxian collapses against one of the trees. "I didn't realize we'd end up planning half the conference."

"That was ... difficult," Lan Wangji agrees.

Wei Wuxian leans against the tree, folding his arms behind his head. "Well, at least we can have thirty seconds of quiet now ... what's that look for?"

Because Lan Wangji is looking at him with a dropped jaw and pink ears.

"This reminds me," he says, and then stops.

"Hmm?" Wei Wuxian tilts his head.

Lan Wangji takes a step toward him. "Baifeng Mountain," he says in a low voice.

"Baifen... oh." Wei Wuxian grins. "Is this what I looked like? Leaning against the tree?"

Lan Wangji's silence and the tint to the tips of his ears are the only confirmation he needs. His grin widens. "Do you want to try it again? No punching trees this time afterward, but I promise to close my eyes and..." It's the last thing he's able to get out before Lan Wangji is on him, pressing him against the tree and kissing him deeply.

Wei Wuxian grins into the kiss, wraps a hand around Lan Wangji's neck to haul him closer. "Yes, it was like this, wasn't it?" he murmurs when Lan Wangji breaks the kiss for air. "I was so alone and vulnerable in the forest, and you came and held me down and kissed me." Lan Wangji moves to silence him with another kiss, but Wei Wuxian wiggles away and whispers in his ear. "You could have done other things with me too ... I wouldn't resist... well, maybe I'd resist a *little*--" and that's as far as he gets. Lan Wangji thrusts a thigh between his legs and all Wei Wuxian can do is whimper as they kiss again, this time hotter and messier.

"Wei-xiong! Hanguang Jun!"

The voice sounds as if from far away. They aren't about to stop kissing for distant voices, not right now, when the heat is so delicious between them. But then there are footsteps, echoing down the corridor they came from, and Lan Wangji at least has enough presence of mind to step back.

Nie Huaisang appears at the entrance to the courtyard, breathing hard as though he's just run a mile. "Oh, thank goodness I've found you two! I need your help. Sect Leader Han is having an argument with Fan Xun over some business with a night hunt that I can't figure out, and it's making a scene! Please come help me settle them down!" And he grabs both Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji by the sleeve and pulls them, with uncharacteristic strength, down the corridor again.

To his credit, Nie Huaisang doesn't make any mention of what he saw or what they were doing. But they spend the remainder of the conference far, far from Baifeng Mountain.

4) Jin Ling

There's a peculiar sort of monster prowling the woods outside Lanling: a boar spirit, with tusks that can uproot a tree and a taste for travelers who go astray. From all accounts, it doesn't seem to be the smartest of beasts, so the best approach is to lead it into a trap. Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji set the trap meticulously, create a trail of meaty temptations to entice it in, and retreat behind a copse of trees to wait.

As they wait, Wei Wuxian's increasingly aware of Lan Wangji's heat and presence next to him. They're both still sweaty from the exertion of setting the trap. A bead of perspiration lingers at the base of Lan Wangji's neck, and Wei Wuxian is compelled to lift a finger and wipe it clean. Lan Wangji shudders, and his hands come forward automatically to grip Wei Wuxian's waist.

"So sensitive today," Wei Wuxian murmurs, and leans in to kiss the spot he'd touched. Lan Wangji's hands tighten on his waist.

All at once this routine night-hunt is instead a thrilling tryst in the midst of danger. Wei Wuxian pushes closer. Lan Wangji captures his lips with a soft sigh. They kiss long and lingering in the quiet woods, the moonlight filtering through the leaves to lay a silver sheen on white skin.

"You could lay me down right here," Wei Wuxian whispers against Lan Wangji's ear. "Have me in the middle of the woods, late at night."

"I'm considering it," Lan Wangji half-growls, and kisses him again.

The kiss tastes stronger than just "considering it." Wei Wuxian goes a little dizzy as Lan Wangji tips him back, as Lan Wangji's hands move to the small of his back, hot and firm. He murmurs encouragement, lets his body go limp so Lan Wangji can lower him down bit by bit onto the forest floor, being kissed into oblivion all the while...

"Oh my god, ewwwww."

They turn. Jin Ling is standing at the other side of the grove, his face twisted. "I mean, I knew it, everybody knows it, but I didn't think I'd ever have to *see* it."

"Jin Ling, what are you doing here?" There's a crisp annoyance in Wei Wuxian's tone as he gets back to his feet, Lan Wangji soundlessly doing the same behind him.

"I was looking for the boar beast, of course!" Jin Ling grips the sheath of his sword like he's ready for combat. "Are you the ones who set the trap? What am I talking about, of course you set the trap. Why aren't you watching it?"

Wei Wuxian can't help a crooked smile. "We figure it'll have something to say when it gets itself trapped," he says. "Are you here with your uncle?"

"No." Jin Ling puffs up proudly. "I don't need my uncle to go night-hunting."

"Good, good." Wei Wuxian moves toward him, smiling entreatingly. "How about we don't tell your uncle what you just saw, okay?"

Jin Ling shivers. "Like I could even say it out loud!"

"You're such a good kid." Wei Wuxian pats him on the shoulder. Jin Ling jerks away. "Isn't he a good kid, Lan Zhan?"

Before Lan Wangji can answer, there's a terrible roar from nearby in the forest. The boar has walked into the trap. Wei Wuxian shoots a plaintive look at Lan Wangji, but that's all he can do -- it's time to get back to business.

5) Jiang Cheng

At Lan Wangji's urging, Wei Wuxian sends Lotus Pier an "informational letter" letting Jiang Cheng know that the two of them plan on visiting Yunmeng for a week in the summer. "We will stay in a local inn," he writes, but when Jiang Cheng sends back a missive to Cloud Recesses, he says, "You might as well stay here." Wei Wuxian can practically *hear* the huff in his voice.

So Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji show up at Lotus Pier at summer's edge, when the flowering shrubs are in the height of their bloom, and an unsmiling Jiang Cheng gives them a cursory bow and leads them to two rooms in a far corner of the compound. "Of course I can't tell you what to do," he says, "but ... still." Not one of the three has any illusions about how many rooms will get used.

Jiang Cheng doesn't smile the whole time, but he at least invites the two of them to meals when they're home, and makes sure they have what they need. Wei Wuxian shrinks a little when he's around, not wanting to start anything that will disturb the fragile peace. But when he's not, Wei Wuxian cheerfully leads Lan Wangji down the outdoor walkways that zigzag toward the river's edge. At the far end is a small pavillion with a place to sit and look out over the water. It's sunset and the water is bright like flame, reflecting the orange bulb of the sun lowering itself behind the faraway trees.

"I used to see sunsets like this every day, all the time," Wei Wuxian says.

"Do you miss them?" Lan Wangji asks, glancing at him.

"No, it's not that I miss them, exactly. And Cloud Recesses is so nice, your thousands of rules notwithstanding, and there's lots of beautiful things up there." Wei Wuxian smiles. "But it's nice to come back and see this once in a while."

"We'll visit often, then." Lan Wangji speaks with sureness.

"I don't know how often Jiang Cheng will let us stay here," Wei Wuxian says, "but we can come to Yunmeng now and then. There are other places to see the sunset."

"But none quite like this one?"

"Exactly." Wei Wuxian sighs.

"We can talk to your brother."

"No, no, it's all right, leave him alone." Wei Wuxian leans on Lan Wangji's shoulder. "I'll just enjoy this now."

And so they sit together and watch the sun dip below the treeline, quietly, aware of the passage of each moment disappearing along with the daylight. When the sun is gone, Wei Wuxian lets out a little sigh. It's not that he's sad, so much. He's just feeling heavy with the knowledge that he might not see the sun from this vantage point for a very long time.

Lan Wangji squeezes his shoulder and lowers his head to brush a kiss against Wei Wuxian's hair. It's just a momentary thing, but somehow it fills Wei Wuxian with happiness. That's right -- it will never be the same as when he was a child, but when he was a child he didn't have *this*. He lifts his chin to face Lan Wangji, to say something, he doesn't know what, but Lan Wangji leans in and kisses him before he can.

Wei Wuxian's eyes flutter closed. He doesn't need a thing other than this, just a soft, lingering kiss like the last rays of sun on the water. He's content to feel the touch of Lan Wangji's lips, the gentle sureness of his hands. For once, he doesn't crave more.

The kiss ends. Wei Wuxian opens his eyes. "Lan Zhan," he says, his voice soft, "I really love you so much."

Lan Wangji's eyes widen, and there's a flash of steel in his gaze. He tugs on the back of Wei Wuxian's neck and pulls him into a very different kind of kiss.

This kiss has purpose, deepening quickly and sending flushes of heat through Wei Wuxian's body. He sits on Lan Wangji's lap, straddling his waist, and they kiss again. Lan Wangji's hands move feverishly on Wei Wuxian's skin, and Wei Wuxian gets the feeling he's about ten seconds away from laying him out on the wooden slats of the pavillion and having him right there. 

"AUGH!"

Wei Wuxian jumps to his feet. Lan Wangji turns. Jiang Cheng is standing on the walkway several feet from the pavillion, and his face is buried in his hands.

"Jiang Cheng...!" Wei Wuxian has no idea what to say.

"I came ... to tell you dinner ... but ... oh, god, my EYES!" And Jiang Cheng turns tail and runs all the way back toward the main buildings.

Lan Wangji looks back at Wei Wuxian. "Dinner?" he says, and there's a touch of amusement in his voice.

"Let's give him a few minutes to calm down first," Wei Wuxian says with a laugh. "Then, yes, dinner."

It's a very awkward dinner.

and 1) Wen Ning

They return to Cloud Recesses a few days later. As they return to the Jingshi, stepping through the gate into the small courtyard, Wei Wuxian snuggles against Lan Wangji's side, full of fondness and a surprising sense of delight at being back home after time away. Yunmeng was wonderful and full of memories, but this is his and Lan Wangji's space, their small palace in the mountains. Here, they can move without restraint; every stepping stone and blade of grass is familiar. It's like a vise on his heart has been loosened.

Lan Wangji looks down at him with gentle affection in his eyes. When Wei Wuxian darts upward to take a soft kiss from those lips, Lan Wangji winds his arms around him and holds him there. They kiss in the low light, shadows falling all around them, keeping them safe.

"We should continue this inside," Wei Wuxian whispers. Lan Wangji responds with a "Mn" and a nod. They turn toward the front stoop of the Jingshi.

"Wei-gongzi."

Wei Wuxian jumps. Wen Ning is just outside the courtyard gate, fingers on the slats. He's smiling.

"Wen Ning, what the hell are you doing here? How did you get in?"

Wen Ning proudly holds up a jade token of passage. "A-Yuan gave it to me."

"Oh." Wei Wuxian heaves a sigh of resignation. "And? What did you come for?"

A corpse can't blush, but between Wen Ning's unsteady pose and the way he gazes at Wei Wuxian through upturned eyes, it's easy to see he's a little nervous. "I know that you and Hanguang-Jun have had trouble getting ... some time alone. So I thought I'd maybe wait outside this gate and keep people away for you. So you can ..." He looks away. "Sorry, maybe this is too much, I'll just go."

"Wait. Wen Ning."

Wei Wuxian is hit by a wave of affection. Wen Ning tries so hard, and he wants so badly to help. Wei Wuxian is a little concerned that he's taken up the habit of following them around again, but they can discuss that another day.

He walks up to the gate. "That would be very helpful, Wen Ning. Thank you." He shoots a look at Lan Wangji, who is carefully holding back a smile. "We'll just go inside, and you can keep watch until you don't feel like it anymore. Okay?"

"Yes!" Wen Ning nods vigorously. "You can count on me." He turns and assumes a pose outside the gate like he's guarding a castle.

Wei Wuxian wanders back to where Lan Wangji waits, biting back his own laughter. "You hear that, Lan Zhan?" he says. "No interruptions, guaranteed."

"It's a very kind offer," Lan Wangji says. "We should take advantage of it."

"I couldn't agree more." Wei Wuxian takes his hand. They step inside and shut the door against the outside world. Tonight, they won't stop for anything.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Lasting Rivalries.

Word Count: 4.0k

Written for an anonymous commissioner.

Synopsis: Izuku loves you, but he doesn’t like Katsuki very much. It’s just a shame he can’t separate one feeling from the other. 

TW: Kidnapping, Imprisonment, Mentions of Past Assult, Violence, Non-Graphic Injury, Mentions of Drug Use, Implied Death, Unhealthy Relationships, and Delusional Mindsets.

[Part Two]

Within the day, Izuku’s base was abandoned.

It was a temporary measure, he’d explained, just a precaution to make sure Katsuki and all his nasty little friends couldn’t find their way back to his hide-out, which turned out to be a bunker tucked away underneath one of the many discarded office buildings on the edge of the city. It was almost impressive, how with only a wave of his hand, all of his lackeys uprooted themselves from the home they seemed so accustomed to with little more than an exasperated sigh or a remorseful shake of their head. If Izuku had been disappointed, you weren’t able to tell. Despite the rush, the anxiety that came with releasing a scorned hostage, he was all smiles, all gentle touches and soft tones and sentiments so patronizing, you began to think you’d almost prefer his anger.

He knew you were quirkless, now, and there wasn’t an observant civilian in the city who didn’t know about Izuku’s troubled past, of his fondness of those born without a gift. You couldn’t say you blamed him, not if you approached it objectively. It hadn’t been an easy burden to carry, growing up, but you weren’t growing up anymore, you weren’t a kid waiting for a quirk that’d never come or a teenager, balancing the embarrassment of daily life with the humiliation that came with being so undeniably different than your peers, and in such an unhidable way, too. You weren’t over it, but you were past it. You still remembered all those awful, disgusting things people said to you, but you didn’t let them keep you awake at night. You were dealing with it. You were moving forward.

Izuku wasn’t.

He wasn’t even trying to.

But, it wasn’t your place to call him out, not when it came to that, not when you were stuck inside your new prison - someplace just as confining, but only half as tolerable. Technically, it was an improvement. After abandoning his bunker, Izuku’s followers had dispersed, and along with a handful of his closest companions, you’d been taken to a seedy bar on the worse side of town, locked inside of a small, windowless room on the second story and forced to watch as Izuku threw away the key. There were no cards, this time, no unbais locks with a dozen different work-around, just a deadbolt on your door and four-digit code you’d never get the chance to guess at. He wasn’t taking any risks, this time, he wasn’t giving you the smallest opportunity to jump at. It was a new sense of determination that’d come in the form of a shackle around your ankle and a bottle of white, circular pills Izuku forced down your throat every time he took you beyond the confines beyond your four walls. Ones that made you dizzy, weak, sedated. A measure that couldn’t be for your own safety, despite Izuku’s attempts to insist otherwise.

He seemed busier, too, than he was before your abduction. It might just be because you didn’t have anything else to focus on. As far as you could tell, Izuku only let his inner circle know where you were being held, and they still seemed hesitant to do more than deliver your meals or offer a few passive niceties when they were forced to interact with you. Saying your company was limited would’ve been an understatement. He tried to make it up to you with books and gifts and outfits that were more for his enjoyment than yours, but you were lucky if his visits lasted longer than an hour. His wasn’t the face you’d prefer to see on a daily basis, but it was still worrying to have your captor be too preoccupied to serve as a real threat. And when he did make time for you…

Izuku liked to have something to hold on to. He liked to be able to squeeze, and pull, and bruise, even if the pain he caused was more of a byproduct than a goal. His intentions didn’t matter, though, not when his fingertips dug into your thighs, not when his teeth sank into your neck, not when he got a little too excited and only stopped because your complaints had gotten frantic enough to be annoying. You’d learned quickly that Izuku was an affectionate man, but you’d learned even faster that you never wanted to be the one that affection was directed towards. Having him go days at a time without checking in with you was concerning, but having him next to you was unbearable. You tried not to think about it, when you could help it.

Luckily, today was a case of the former, when Izuku had too much on his mind and too little time to sort it out to bother convincing you to love him back. He’d let himself into your room an hour ago, and yet, he hadn’t been able to do more than kiss your forehead and offer a muttered greeting before loosening his tie and setting to pacing, wandering back and forth through the cramped confines of your homey cage. It was starting to scare you. No, it was starting to terrify you. You’d passed the point of just being scared days ago.

You doubted he could say anything to comfort you, but you found yourself talking regardless. If only to fill the silence with something that wasn’t his constant, incoherent mumbling, really. “Something’s going on,” You started, trying to sound more confident than you’d ever be, around him. “Something’s going on, and you’re not telling me about it.”

His answer was automatic, the one he’d given you a thousand times over. “I’m taking care of it, darling.”

“Midoriya, please.” It was more of a plea than a request, an appeal to whatever love he might’ve had for you, whatever trust he might’ve had in you. You weren’t blind, you knew he didn’t think you were strong or capable or of any particular use beyond serving as a particularly high-maintenance ornament, but if he thought you were endearing enough to keep as a companion, he should’ve been able to treat you like a companion, too. “Right now, your safety is my safety. If someone’s going to break down that door and kill both of us…” You trailed off, forcing yourself to let out an airy, humorless laugh. “I should get to know who it’s going to be.”

For a moment, Izuku hesitated, but it was only for a moment. With a small sigh, the tension in his shoulder dissolved, and he took to rubbing the back of his neck, one in a never-ending line of nervous ticks. “It’s really nothing either of us can help,” He insisted, making a half-hearted attempt to break his concerned frown into a small smile. “A lot of my recruits were training to be heroes when I picked them up, did I ever tell you that? I got to most of them too early on for it to be useful, but a few have some experience. It makes it easier to tell with the other side’s planning something, not that they’d ever miss a chance to put on a good show.”

“And it’s been getting worse?” The sentiment left a bitter taste on your tongue. You never thought you’d speak a word against the hero industry, not so generally, but Izuku had a way of rubbing off on you, or the way you spoke, at least.

“It’s certainly busier than it should be,” He admitted, the words grumbled through grit teeth. “I’ve had to lie low, but that makes things difficult. There’s a hierarchy in this city, and people don’t tend to react well when the one on the throne goes into hiding. Weapon distributors aren’t getting their shipments on time, gangs aren’t keeping to their own territory, it’s all devolving into chaos, and all because those bastards can’t take a step back and let me tend to things.”

His hands were curling at his sides, now, his nails driving themselves into his bare palms with so much repressed ferocity, it almost looked painful. It was an impulsive thing to do, an act that’d play right into his delusional little fantasy, but that didn’t stop you from reaching out and taking him by the sleeve, pulling him towards your cot. Your chain rattled as you swung your legs over the side of your bed, but you tried to ignore it, biting the inside of your cheek and letting Izuku fall into place next to you. He didn’t try to resist, only going slack as his head lolled onto your shoulder.

Your next question came reluctantly, guiltily. You couldn’t be sure how long it’d been since you’d last seen Katsuki, but after a month came and went without the slightest hint of your boyfriend, your hopes had dampened, dimmed, turned into something much darker than you’d ever thought they would be. You still knew he’d come back for you. He had to come back, but you couldn’t know when he would. You couldn’t know how he might’ve changed, by the time he did.

You couldn’t know if he’d still be your Katsuki, by then.

“What about Bakugo?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Have you heard anything about him?”

With that, an almost sympathetic aire found its way to his tired expression. Somehow, he found just enough energy to reach up, running his finger through your hair as he drew you closer, his face soon buried in the crook of your neck. You went stiff, but you didn’t shove him away. You knew better than to reject Izuku so blatantly, by now. “You don’t have to worry about Kacchan. I let him get away, but I made sure he didn’t leave unscathed.” There was a pause, a hand finding its way to your hip. You fought not to recoil, and Izuku pretended not to notice. “He only picked up his patrol routes last week, and I’ve been keeping an eye on him. If he wants to get to you, he’ll have to pry you from my cold, dead hands.”

You wanted to ask again. You wanted to ask again, and again, and again until you ran out of breath and Izuku had to decide whether to gag you, starve you, or find a way to combine the two. It was a common choice to get stuck on, whether to quell your paranoia or side with your common sense, but ultimately, Izuku was the one to make the decision for you. It was soft, at first, the feeling of his lips ghosting over your skin, but things with Izuku rarely stayed innocent. Your body was rigid by the time you felt his tongue run over your jugular, your hands on his shoulder as his teeth ghosted over your neck, but by the time you moved to shove him away, he was already clinging to you, snaking an arm around your waist as his teeth sunk in, as he drew blood.

“I don’t--” You tried to complain, but you were cut off by a low hum from Izuku, a half-hearted sign of dismissal as he moved on to his next target, just above the dip of your collarbone. “Midoriya,” You tried, trying to shove him away. “This really isn’t the time, I’m really not in the mood. You were just talking how screwed we’d be if--”

“I was worried about it, and then, my angel comforted me. That’s wonderful, isn’t it?” He pulled you closer, nuzzling into your chest. “I’m just repaying the favor. It’d be unfair if I didn’t show my (Y/n) how much I appreciate them.”

He moved to go on, but suddenly, his eyes opened, his posture going stiff before he could say something to make you squirm and do something to make you hate him even more. You heard it a moment after he did, and felt it a second after that - voices, louder than they should’ve been, coming from the floor below, and then a crash that couldn’t have been accidental. There was a subtle tremors, a reverberation that left you locking your jaw into place. Izuku didn’t let go of you, but his grip loosened, his attention suddenly elsewhere.

And then, without warning, the floor caved in.

It happened in the blink of an eye, in the space between one second and another. One moment, you were sitting on a cot, and the next, you were lying on your back, every part of your body aching, a dozen things sprained and another hundred bruised, or cut, or ripped open and left to bleed. You forced yourself to open your eyes, but it was pointless - the world around you was grey and brown and nothing. Dust and debris polluted the air, clouding it beyond recognition, and if there was anything salvageable left of the first floor, you wouldn’t have been able to tell, much less do something with whatever you found. The fall couldn’t have been very far, but the ground was unforgiving, and everything hurt. It was all you could do to push yourself to your feet, your legs threatening to buckle under your own weight. You pulled yourself through a step, then another before you realized what was wrong.

You could stand.

You could walk.

Blearily, you focused on the shackle around your ankle, the thing that should’ve been keeping you bound to the cot now buried under a pile of rubble twice as tall as you were. The metallic circlet was still there, only slightly scoffed, but when you followed the short chain, the only thing it led back to was a pole, one leg of the makeshift bed you’d become so acquainted with. You almost left it there. Right now, you were  more focused on finding an exit and getting out than celebrating such a convenient victory, but a low moaning tore your attention towards another mangled form before you could stagger away. A mass of black fabric, a white shirt soaked through with something dark and rusty. Hair, darker than it should’ve been, and just as tangled as it usually was.

Izuku. Injured and beaten, but unquestionably Izuku. For a moment, you thought he was dead, but a guttural cough tore you away from that daydream. He didn’t move, but his eyes flickered open, finding you among the ruins. It almost seemed like he would smile, like he would laugh and call his henchmen and you’d be recaptured before you could get so much as a breath of fresh air. You could hear fighting in the distance, yelling from heroes and villains alike, but they weren’t here, not yet. Izuku could still do something crafty and clever and evil, and you’d have to pay for it. 

You’d be the victim again, and he’d come out on top.

By the time you made up your mind, your hand was already closing around the pole, the metal heavy in your fist. Izuku watched you silently, only forcing something out as you came to stand over him.

“You’d be better off with me,” He spat, his voice raspy, feeble. “If you go running back into his arms, into his world, you’ll regret it.”

You were tempted to listen. You might’ve, but you couldn’t. You wouldn't be able to live with yourself, if you did.

It wasn’t like he’d ever stopped to listen to you, after all.

You were only returning the favor.

~

You didn’t remember passing out.

You didn’t remember it, but you must’ve, because the next time you woke up, you weren’t in the debris of Izuku’s hideout, anymore - you didn’t seem to be anywhere. The lights were blinding for a second, fospheresent and white and searing, but the onslaught retreated as quickly as it attacked, disappearing completely as you remembered how to blink. If your body hurt before, it was even worse now, but the pain was at a distance, forced back by a translucent liquid and a handful of needles pumping the substance into your bloodstream, one drop at a time. You were tempted to rip them out, if only as a learned instinct, but a glance around the room revealed that you were in a medical bed, not on a cot, that the walls around you were white and speckled with dark blues and greens, rather that the dull grey you’d grown used to. It was a silent relief, not unexpected but certainly not unappreciated, the type that made you want to fall into the stiff mattress and sleep until you got used to the feeling of being able to, but you had a reason to stay awake. You had a reason to want to be awake.

Because someone was holding your hand.

Because Katsuki was holding your hand.

He was slumped against the arm of a sterile, poorly cushioned chair, his eyes nearly closed. He must’ve been here for a while - he was still wearing the essentials of his costume, but his mask had been discarded, as had his belt and his gauntlets, anything he didn’t need to sit by your bedside and fret over you. He looked exhausted, but he perked up as your fingers intertwined with his, a small smile spreading across his lips as he scanned over you.

His voice was raspy, obscure by sleep, but his tone was light, affectionate. You were thankful. That was all you needed him to be. “You took your fucking time.”

“So did you.” You might hold it against him, later on, but right now, you just wanted to settle onto your side and grin as Katsuki’s expression softened into something apologetic. “How long was I--”

“A little more than a day.” He must’ve gone over that a thousand times before you woke up. He wasn’t eager, but the speech was rehearsed, practiced, just bordering on scripted. “It’s just a minor concussion and a few fractures. Taking out Deku’s hideout was riskier than it should’ve been, but we couldn’t think of another way to separate him from his lackeys without putting civilians at risk. By the time we handled his lap dogs, you’d already collapsed.”

You hesitated, but you forced yourself to ask. You needed to know he wouldn’t come crawling back. You needed to know you hadn’t fallen to his level for nothing. “And Midoriya?”

“Died in the crash, as far as anyone can tell.” Katsuki took a deep breath, just a hint of regret finding its way into his disposition. It didn’t last long, though, dispelled with an heavy sigh. “It’s for the best. The sooner that motherfucker’s wiped off the face of the planet, the better. I was just hoping it wouldn’t be so…” He trailed off, running his free hand through his hair. “Would you believe me if I said I still thought he might not be so… fucked up, once we got him back?”

You wouldn’t. You’d spent weeks under Izuku’s thumb, tripping over yourself to keep him happy with you, spending every waking moment trying to please a sociopath, but that didn’t change the fact that he used to be Katsuki’s friend, that they’d grown up together, and that it’d been Katsuki’s fault they grew apart. You couldn’t answer, not in a way that would soothe his lingering doubts, But, he didn’t seem to need you to. Before you could think of something to say, he was already shrugging it off, shaking his head as he turned towards you. “I can’t keep focusing on shit like that, though. You’re back, and you’re safe, and that’s all that matters to me.”

You let yourself relax, melting into your pillow as Katsuki bent over the side of your bed, pushing a light, delicate kiss into your temple. “I’m just glad I got out of there,” You admitted. Katsuki only nodded in acknowledgement, nimble fingers beginning to comb through your disheveled hair. “I can’t wait to see everyone again, it feels like years since I’ve talked to someone besides Midoriya. Mina’s going to smother me, and Denki -- Wait, do you think I still have a job? They can’t fire me for getting abducted, right?”

You felt Katsuki stiffen. It took him a second to respond, just long enough to let you know something was wrong. “I… I don’t think you should head back to work, just yet.”

“Well, yeah, I’m still in a hospital gown,” You laughed, attempting to ignore his sudden seriousness. “But eventually, I’ll have to--”

“I don’t think you should go back at all.” If he was reluctant before, he’d gotten over it. Reflexively, you pushed yourself up, your arms shaking under the strain, but Katsuki was quick to backtrack, to flinch away and curse under his breath, cupping your cheek as he urged you to hear him out. “I know you’re probably dyin’ for things to go back to the way they used to be, and I know I’m being selfish, but… You were kidnapped, (Y/n), by a villain. Deku was the worst ‘em, but he wasn’t the only one. There’s probably hundreds of-- thousands of people out there who’d be willing to rip your heart out, if it means getting back to me. I don’t know if it’d be able to take it, if you wanted to risk that. I don’t know if it’d be able to let you risk that. I...” He forced himself to stop, to take a steading breath. “I just want to keep you safe. I need you to let me keep you safe.”

Huh.

It hurt a lot less than you thought it would.

It was the numbing sort of shock, a cold wave of a scenario you’d imagined (albeit, one you’d never liked) plenty of times coming to fruition. Part of you thought Katsuki might burst out laughing, that he might be joking, but Katsuki didn’t move to back down, didn’t move to do anything but stare. It made sense. He hadn’t known if you were dead or alive for a month, and Katsuki was the type to get nervous when you went more than a day without seeing him in person. He’d probably been worried sick. He’d probably been pulling his own hair out. He’d probably been… What was it Izuku said, when he was first warning you about Katsuki?

He’d probably been ready to lock you away somewhere so deep and somewhere so dark, you’d be lucky to ever see sunlight again. As long as it meant you were protected.

That didn’t mean you wanted to be locked away, though.

It was all you could do to keep your voice from shaking. You didn’t want Katsuki to lie to you just because he thought you might start crying, if he didn’t. “What happens if I don’t let you?”

He could only frown, the calloused pad of his thumb rubbing over your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you, angel.”

He didn’t want to. He’d never want to. Even if he did, even if he didn’t regret it, he’d never want to.

That already made him better than Izuku.

The slow, muted beat of the heart-monitor began to race as you leaped towards Katsuki, nearly falling off of your bed as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him against you burying your face in his chest, allowing Katsuki to tentatively pull you closer, too. You could’ve called for a nurse. You could’ve screamed. You could’ve done something to put yourself at arm’s length from anyone who wanted to keep you cornered and caged, but you didn’t want to do something, you couldn’t want that. You loved Katsuki. You loved him, and you’d missed him, and the only thing you wanted to do was fall into his arms and let him take care of you, regardless of how paranoid he’d gotten. You just wanted to know he’d be there, if someone like Izuku ever came after you again.

Everything else was a small price to pay, if he could just give you that.

“Please.” You didn’t try to hide your vulnerability, anymore, you didn’t try to hide anything. Tears were already clouding your vision, something jagged and tight burrowing into the back of your throat with every word, every painful thought. Katsuki moved to speak, to comfort you, but you didn’t let him. You didn’t want to be comforted.

You just wanted to feel safe.

"I just want to go home.”

[letterstomilen]

i discuss the classification of igneous petrology as you fall asleep during my lecture (PART 2) (ASMR)

Childe/Zhongli, Alternate Universe  When Childe's younger sister tells him about the volunteer at the library, he does not make the connection between that and his new favorite ASMR YouTuber, Rex Lapis.

Childe’s unfortunate love life starts at the age of eight. He, of course, did not call it “love” when he’s eight. When he was eight, he plucked a couple of weeds and sunflowers from his neighbor’s garden before he went to the park and handed them over to a classmate he doesn’t remember the name of now.

Handed over is an understatement here, seeing that she fell over from him shoving the flowers towards her chest before declaring, “Please marry me!”

In hindsight, storming over with the delicacy of an elephant with two left feet was not the best idea. But as somebody who recently discovered that watermelons could not grow out of your stomach no matter what, he was not the brightest. (Lumine now would argue that this is still the case. Unfortunately.)

She, as all eight-year kids would when faced with a loud boy that shoved you to the ground, started bawling. It didn’t help that Childe wasn’t aware of the fact that some worm wriggled in with the weeds and sunflowers he uprooted, with said worm now wiggling on the glittery, cursive ‘i’ in ‘Magical’ on her t-shirt.

This promptly resulted in her mom heading over and a long talk over dinner that night on why you should not ask girls to just marry you at your age.

“So I can ask boys then, right?”

Pleased with the loophole he discovered at age eight, Childe toothily smiled at his mom, who sighed and shook your head.

“You can’t ask anybody to marry you when you’re eight. And please don’t throw flowers at them too.”

The stolen flowers resulted in him being on his neighbor’s blacklist for the next couple of years; this in itself was fine, seeing that Childe was always a bit of a troublemaker and it was bound to happen at some point. However, the crying girl left a big impression on him even as he got older.

It did help that the older he got, the more silver-tongued he became, but this resulted in short-term relationships and a famous incident that once got dubbed ‘Tartaglia’s Shakespearean Slipup.’ (It involved a drunk retelling of Macbeth, several dumb questions, and a shirt that could never get the stain washed off of it.)

So in short, Childe’s love life is, to put it bluntly, a travesty. It has been downhill ever since he was eight years old, and nearly two decades later, he’s sure that he finally hit rock bottom.

“Tonia,” he begins, wondering how his little sister could be so cute yet so cruel at the same time, “what did you not tell Zhongli?”

“Hmm… Oh, I didn’t tell him about your obsession with his channel!” And cue the self-satisfied smile before she took another sip of his coffee.

Oh lord, she learned it from him.

“Anything else?” he presses, wondering what kind of image he has of him now — definitely not a good one. No amount of smooth talking or knowledge about petrology could save him from his past mistakes. He’s sure that Zhongli would not take kindly to the plethora of times that his insobriety has made him infamous among certain groups of people.

And he’ll admit just to himself, he was wholly unprepared for this. He couldn’t even be lulled to sleep by his voice last night — which is unfortunate because the series where he discussed the inspiration behind Tao Yuanming’s work just came out and if there’s one thing Childe likes, it’s poetry — because he couldn’t stop himself from thinking that he knew who he was.

Except not as Childe. As Tartaglia, his younger sister clarified, ever so proud of herself that she taught somebody how to say his birth name correctly, never mind that it stumped even the most persistent of professors.

“Not really! He said he likes listening to me brag about my older brother! ‘Cause he’s an only child and everything. Actually… he mentioned that you’d like to hear your stories sometime. Sweet, right?”

“My stories,” Childe echoes slowly. “The ones I told you when you were a kid? The fairytale rip-offs?”

“Yup.”

“Including the one where the kids locked the evil queen up and used her Magic Mirror to cheat on their tests?”

Admittedly, he was a bit lazy with that one. But Tonia was just eight and Childe was half-awake, trying to remember the difference between Hudibrastic and hija. So, like any good literature major with a bone to pick with their academic advisor, he decided that he’d very subtly rehash Snow White and make it all about cheating. (On tests of course.)

“Yuup. They got in trouble, right?”

They didn’t, but his mom would have his head if he said otherwise, so he smiles at her, ruffles her hair, and says with the attitude of a picture-perfect older brother, “Of course. The evil queen immediately sent them to the dungeon. So don’t cheat, okay?”

She nods, rewarding her compliance with another sip of his coffee. The library is fairly close to their apartment, as all things in Liyue are. A tightly packed city by the sea where you were sure to know everything about your neighbor and their neighbor. Which meant that the tenants next door still remembered when Childe first moved in and spent a week high on ambien, only to invest his time in writing a paper about how Snowpiercer was the sequel to Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. (When they spoke for the first time, they asked politely if he could please turn down the volume, because it was difficult to sleep when your neighbor watched the two movies consecutively with the volume all the way up at three in the morning, don’t you think?)

(The paper ended up being legible to only the most dedicated of readers anyways.)

Deciding that they’re an appropriate distance from the entrance of the library now, Tonia stops walking and drags her brother towards the benches. “Now, before I take you to meet Zhongli, I just want to ask you one thing.”

He looks at her expectantly, wondering if she’s going to ask if he remembers what Lumine said. Don’t embarrass yourself, don’t act shady, and before you do something—think ITWTWW? (A.K.A Is This What Tsaritsa Would Want? A joke that arose after a particularly hellish class last year after the professor’s attention towards Childe was a source of debate—did she hate him? Did she think of him as her son? Did he—a suggestion brought forth by Aether—remind her of annoying neighbors that’d spend all night partying? To this day, he still doesn’t know.)

“What is it?”

“Did you bring your library card?”

“Huh?”

It turns out, Childe learns five minutes later with relief that his long-forgotten library card was collecting dust in his wallet, that Zhongli has a limit on books he can check out because he’s always forgetting them. And his overdue fees are quite an impressive sum—both for a library volunteer and anybody that’s frequented a library for the past decade.

But to the library’s great relief, he’s only checking out books nobody has ever checked out in the past so by default they belong to him now. (No harm no foul—unless you’re the occasional poor individual that has to research an incredibly specific and niche topic only to find out that the book is not in the library at the moment.)

Tonia sounds immensely proud of herself as she informs him of this while they wait for him to finish help somebody find a book. Help is an understatement, Childe realizes, as he watches Zhongli talk, smiling as he ensnares the visitor in an answer to a question where “yes” or “no” would have sufficed.

It’s ridiculously cute. Really. Tonia seems used to this sight as she drags Childe closer to the two. Zhongli must’ve realized that he slipped into a tangent because he apologizes and points to the nonfiction section before opening his book once more.

“Oh… I forgot.” Tonia purses her lips the same way Lumine does as she sighs, lowering the hand that she was enthusiastically waving moments earlier.

“Hm?”

“He won’t notice us. Ah, Zhongli,” she says melodramatically while they watch him flip through pages in a book, her tone every bit the longing princess in books they poured over when she was younger. “Why can’t you see us? Isn’t my wonderful big brother enough to catch your attention?”

He’s very flattered. Really. He knows that compliment was partially influenced by letting her have a lion’s share of his drink and Lumine’s sarcasm, but he takes it in stride, squeezing her cheeks. Tonia rolls her eyes in response, and heads over to Zhongli, chatting him up quicker than Childe can respond.

“And this is my older brother,” she introduces, gesturing her hand towards Childe, who smiles brightly, hoping he looks every bit the composed person he doesn’t feel like right now.

Zhongli is just as charming in person and it doesn’t help that just the realization he’s standing right here makes Childe’s pulse race, contributing to his increasingly forced smile that he reserves for uncomfortable situations. Oblivious to that, Zhongli smiles at him—one that is ingrained in his memory from days of watching it on loop —and says, “You must be Tartaglia, right? Tonia told me a lot about you.”

Oh fuck. 

His first thought: of course she told him about him. He knew beforehand, the dread of being characterized through his sister’s dramatizations of Childe’s mistakes. It’s partially why he could only get up this morning through two cups of coffee and dunking his head in the freezer for several minutes.

But also his name— 

Childe’s torn between asking why the hell his sister told him his real name or excusing himself to go read a dictionary to cool his nerves. Even though he’s well aware most of his family calls him Tartaglia still—mainly his parents when he’s in trouble (which, to be fair, is most of the time)—most people in Liyue call him Childe for two reasons.

One, Tartaglia is a mouthful and two, after many questions about how his name was pronounced only to get it butchered on several occasions, he’s stopped. (Scaramouche, Tsaritsa, and Signora are the only ones who call him that at this point, really; but he’s convinced Scaramouche does it just to vex him.)

“Yes,” he chokes out. “That’s me. Tartaglia.”

Childe decides that if Zhongli would just say his name and nothing else, he would die happy. Which is a mortifying thought but maybe a little bit of an upgrade from falling asleep to listening him talk about rocks. Isn’t it?

“You can call him Childe,” Tonia offers. “My brother doesn’t like it when people call him Tartgalia.”

His mouth forms an ‘o’ out of realization and sheepishly says, “My deepest apologies, Childe.”

“N-no—” Childe starts, his sister’s expression burning into the back of his head. “It sounds really nice when you say it. Call me Tartaglia—anything you’d like, really.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot.” Tonia smiles mischievously, implying that she never forgot all along as she raises a finger to her chin in mock thought. “You watch his ASMR channel, don’t you?”

“You do?”

They both turn to Childe, who’s sure this is turning into an interrogation; their burning gazes, the expectant silence, and a question he’s reluctant to answer.

“Yeah. I’m a huge fan,” he confesses brightly. “My favorite series of yours is the petrology one. It felt really nostalgic.”

He never thought he’d remember high school clearly ever again, but the videos made his classes a little less lazy. And the heat of the sun on the back of his neck as he slept in class would follow, lulled to sleep by a lecture he couldn’t quite remember. But he recalled his friends’ amusement clearly when they asked how he managed to sleep nearly every class, only to get a cheeky smile as an answer.

“Is that so? May I interest you in some books then? There’s quite the collection here, although I’m not sure which would interest you the most then. Any preferences?”

Ohhh, his expectant look was so cute. But Tonia looks bored at the prospect, so he clears his throat instead.

“Actually, I came here to check out Legend of the Lone Sword so I could follow along with your newest video,” he finally says. “Could you show me where it is?”

“Hmm… We do have two copies but unfortunately both have been checked out. One has just been checked out by Xingqiu and the other… ah, it’s still at my house. We’re having difficulties with the video unfortunately because Venti said… now what did he say?” Zhongli asks himself, humming as he takes out his phone and reads out loud.

“’Find somebody that’s willing to record the video and help you set up b-c’… er, before Christ?”

“Because,” Childe clarifies.

“Thank you. ‘Because I can’t do it without laughing’,” he finishes before sighing. “Also several crying emojis followed by a wine emoji and a suggestion for me to find Diluc…? There are also several other texts that I would not be able to read out loud but that’s the gist of it. As soon as I manage to find somebody, I’ll be able to return the book so you can check it out. My apologies.”

Diluc? All Childe remembers about him is what Lumine once said about him.

‘I was convinced him and Kaeya hated each other until I found out they were siblings.” A pause. Then: ‘I’m still fairly sure they hate each other. They’re at each other’s throats a lot. Diluc more so.’

He had not considered him to be a rival in love. Granted — that’s limited information from several years ago but it’s not as if Childe knows that many people outside of his own department. But still. 

Eager to save any chance of a love life, Childe says, “Why don’t I help you record?”

“That’s a great idea! Then my brother can read the book while he stays over. Right?” Tonia presses on, smiling far too brightly for his taste as Zhongli muses, considering the possibility.

“Are you sure that wouldn’t be too much trouble?”

Childe nearly stumbles at the sight of his relief. Really, his smile isn’t good for his heart—neither is the look he gives him, as if he hung over the moon that very moment. “None at all.”

“What a relief… I’ll tell Venti immediately that I can record the ‘ASMR: Boyfriend Reads to You’ video.”

—What?

Zhongli looks up from his phone after he texts his friend and tilts his head slightly in confusion, his earring brushing against his shoulder.

He looks adorably concerned and maybe a little bit aware that he’s responsible for Childe’s reaction. “Is there something wrong?”

“N-no. Nothing. That’s great. Good. I’m excited to be your boyfriend.”

Tonia lets out a little giggle and he’s sure that there’s somebody at the library silently praying for his downfall as he hurriedly corrects himself. “For the video, of course. Should I give you my number so we can set a date?”

Not deterred by Childe’s flustered expression, Zhongli nods as he hands him his phone. Maybe this is what he expected—that’d most likely be the case if most of his prior knowledge about Childe came from Tonia, who delights in both embarrassing and complimenting her brother like there’s no tomorrow. “Of course. Please give me your number.”

So with the shame of a college student that never managed to shake off his competitive streak from high school, Childe types his number in and promises himself that this won’t happen again.

(His younger sister lords it over him anyways on the way home, a skip in her step as she recalls it.)

Childe 2:34 i got his #

Twin 1 2:35 for the video recording*

Twin 1 2:35 u also embarrassed yourself. tonia told me all about it lol

Ugh. Of course she did. Childe peeks his head into his sister’s room, hearing her recount the library incident with a few more exaggerations poking fun at what he did than he’d like. Aether must be having the time of his life, which should make them equal considering that Childe made him think that Scaramouche was the best TA ever and would be even nicer if you made him an apple pie. (He hated apples.)

Well. They’re even now, aren’t they?

Childe 2:38 ya but he didn’t notice so its ok. BTW neither of u told me he was that airheaded

Twin 1 2:38 itd be funnier that way

Childe 2:39 oh yeah it was really cute

Twin 1 2:41 didn’t need to know that. anyways u do know how to work a camera right?

Childe 2:41 yea…? who do you think takes all of tonia’s pictures

Twin 1 2:42 no i mean like actual professional cameras used to record

Hm… That was a bit of an oversight on his part, wasn’t it? He texts a quick ‘yeah’ because it couldn’t be that bad and he’ll watch several videos on how to work a camera later, won’t he? There should be three buttons max. Easy.

Not to mention he took an elective on film and he’s watched Zhongli’s videos more times than he can count at this point. So really, there’s not much to worry about. The only problem is that he needs to build up immunity.

If he looks like a “blushing maiden”—Tonia’s words, not his—every time Zhongli looks at him, wouldn’t that be trouble? It’s bad enough that he embarrassed himself in front of his twelve-year-old sister but to look like a fool in front of the same guy his sleeping schedule depends on would be debilitating in more ways than one.

Deciding that he won’t let himself lose this time around, he sends a quick text to Zhongli saying ‘Saturday at 4:00 PM, right? See you there :)’ to psyche himself up before deciding a plan of action. There must be something that’ll impress him—no, completely sweep him off his feet.

More aware than ever that he’s fitting the image of a lovestruck idiot his sister painted him as, Childe watches his phone as it pings with a single ‘OK’ and ‘I am looking forward to working with you’ trying to convince himself that his erratic heart rate and the heat rushing to his face is just a side effect of working with somebody that he greatly admires. (It is, by all accounts, infatuation — but he’ll try to ignore that for now.)

[green-blue-heller]

hey, can you explain the cockles breakup? i saw u just posted about it and s7 and ive seen speculations but i dont think i really understand what happened lol

Hi Anon!

Thanks for your question!!

First off - DISCLAIMER: I do not know Jensen or Misha, or anyone they know. I do not have any direct information or confirmation of any information in this post. This information may or may not be correct (if anyone has any further clarification, feel free to add it - just please know that this same disclaimer will extend to such comments). None of this should ever be discussed with Jensen or Misha. Their lives are theirs, and while the fandom may discuss and speculate, it’s not okay to do so with the actual people.

Ok... now that we have that out of the way!

I will find the post that gave me the most of the information that I have about it, and reblog with it.

But it’s after 1 am, so I’ll give you the quickish answer now lol.

So, in 2011 Misha was essentially fired from SPN as Sera Gamble was killing off Cas (he’s in S7 ep 1-2, and then doesn’t come back until ep 17, I think it is). He wasn’t supposed to come back, at all. He was supposed to be dead dead.

Summer 2009 is where the earliest flirting is seen with JenMish. I think it was AHBL 1. It is on YT. They’re doing a signing, and Jensen and Misha are going back and forth saying about how they couldn’t see each other and they were worried. Jared pipes up and says that he’ll keep an eye on them and let them know the other is still there.

Vicki and Dee are behind Jared and there is definitely giggling going on.

Then Dec 14 2019 is when Jensen posted what’s referred to as the 10 year anniversary pic and it’s assumed that the original was taken around the same date (if anyone has any links to the pic being talked about, can you please share?)

So, if you assume Dec 2009 is when cockles officially became cockles, then it wasn’t very long after when word would have trickled down that Cas was being killed off. I’d say maybe late 2010 to early 2011.

As far as I can tell, no one knows who ended it. Speculation is probably Jensen, saying it would be too difficult now that Misha wasn’t part of the cast, even though he only lives like an hour and a half from Vancouver.

It also has to be taken into consideration that Jensen and Dee got engaged in 2009 and married in 2010. Then 2011, Misha is written off the show.

It’s fair to assume Jensen wouldn’t have wanted to rock the boat at home for something that he wasn’t sure could be sustained.

So, during the 2011 con panels (I think starting around the time of the Asylum convention) Misha is totally different and a little sarcastic/meanish. The matching rings and bracelets also disappear during this time (but different matching/coordinating jewelry shows up later though).

At Rising Con 2011, Mish and Seb have a panel, and Seb says his favorite sound is when he’s laying next to someone he loves and listening to her sleep.

Misha buts in and says “or him” and looks really sad. He’s off the entire panel.

This continues for a while with panels.

I don’t know what con it is, but at one of them, Jensen does talk about how he is glad that Misha is back on the show. I don’t know if they’ve made up yet at this point, since I don’t know when it is from.

I haven’t watched all the 2012 panels (hardly any) but by JIB, they seemed to have maybe made up.

Jensen jokes about their panel being sort of like a blind date. And apologizes that it might be a bit awkward, sort of like working together. Then Misha says that he rather enjoyed working together.

Jensen assures him then that it was great, and that he had a great time. Then tells Misha it was not him (Misha), that it was him (Jensen).

Then Misha says he thought it was really special. And Jensen makes a comment about how maybe they can give it another shot and Misha kinda shakes his head.

This is either Jensen still in the groveling phase, or the trying to be cute and apologize and say he’s happy they worked things out.

Jensen is a little extra flirty.

But it’s obvious after this that things are fine. Since by JIB10, they ran outta fucks to give and Misha literally straddles Jensen on stage and Jen gets a boner and has to adjust himself. Lol.

Though it’s obvious they’re sad about the show ending. I’m sure the breakup (if there had actually been one) over them not being on the same show anymore from 10 years ago is coming back to them. And I’m sure it’s especially not easy with covid.

But they still seem to be bringing up each other when talking, when it’s not really necessary. And Jensen still gets his stupid (in the most loving meaning) smile when he talks about Misha.

And they were obviously texting each other during the panel on Tuesday.

So, hopefully, cockles is still going strong. It’s been 11 years now, not like 1. So hopefully they have learned how to deal with things.

If only The Boys was shot in Vancouver and not in Ontario. Then he wouldn’t be far from Misha, to be able to see him once there aren’t mandatory 2 week quarantines when arriving in Canada.

But I know during JIB10, Misha made several remarks about moving to Austin.

This would be amazing, though idk of him and Vicki would actually want to uproot the kids. So it may be a more wishful thinking. Even if not, I’m sure covid is making that impossible at the moment.

So... I hope I answered your question, nonnie. Lol.

Like I said, I’ll reblog it tomorrow with links to the post I found on it, as well any other links to the panels in question (if I can find them again).

Though all the ones I talked about are on YT.

Let me know if you have further questions, either in the comments or via another ask! 💕

Edit: the post now has additional pieces, with links to other posts and references. So I suggest checking the comments to get the latest version!

[curiosity-killed]

For the " wish you'd write a fic" thing - JC takes in the Wens post Pheonix mountain, JGS realises that honey works better than vinnegar and tries to bribe wwx and MY has an ulterior motive to befriend WWX but it turns genuine and ends w WWX teaching JYL and JGY demonic cultivation so they can make a " weak/ no golden core" squad

LWJ is still caught in pine land, but the Jiang Sibs won't let him near wwx bcs they don't want to hurt him. JGY sees it and finds it entertaining

send me a summary for a fic you wish i’d write and i’ll write a tidbit

After the massacre of Lotus Pier, Wen Chao’s singular bloody victory, there were no elders left in the Yunmeng Jiang clan. It was obvious throughout the war, even as all sects moved with expediency over courtesy. Jiang Wanyin was alone at the head of his scorched sect with a head disciple grown unruly and overpowerful and a sister who had a charming smile but no true power except for her future marriage. And yet—

An old woman walks along the goldenwood boardwalk with a junior disciple supporting her right side.

Drawing his gaze back, Jin Guangyao finds Jiang Yanli smiling softly at him. She is a sweet woman, mild and considerate, and he hasn’t yet decided if she really missed all her mother’s legendary venom and steel or if it’s only disguised under the soft wrappings of silk and lotus petals.

“Please forgive my discourtesy,” he says. “There seems to be an abundance of new faces in Yunmeng Jiang.”

He couches it in polite bemusement, as if he doubts his own recollection. He doesn’t, of course. Su Minshan visited to pay his respects some months ago and reported strange crowds gathering under the nine-petaled lotus, servants sinking unwieldy bundles into the lake late at night. Jin Guangyao’s own memory is impeccable. If he has heard a song once, he will not miss a single note; if he has seen a face, he will not confuse it for another.

Wen Qing stood knee-deep in the edge of the lake when they arrived, her hair pulled up from her neck like a married woman.

“Refugees from the war,” Jiang Yanli explains with soft, sad eyes, “fleeing Wen Ruohan’s violence. So many have been in search of new homes, and after the war...”

She pauses, lips pressing together as her gaze dips to the side. It likely isn’t an act: Jin Guangyao has seen Jiang Yanli overcome with emotion more than once, tears pearling like drops of dew to break down her pale cheeks. Now, she draws in a steadying breath and assumes a pleasant look.

“We have room, you understand,” she says.

Perhaps this is all her pet project, a distraction from her failed betrothal. Jin Guangyao knows better than to brush women aside as too frivolous or petty for schemes and plots, but—contrary to all his hard-learned lessons, he can’t help thinking that Jiang Yanli is, simply, kind. She has so little power or say in her life, but she has always treated him pleasantly and always seems ready to open her heart to some unfortunate soul. It is, despite his efforts, difficult to truly believe that she might be engineering some strategy behind the guise of tearful smiles.

“Of course,” Jin Guangyao soothes. “Yunmeng Jiang’s hospitality is so generous, they must rejoice at the opportunity to join. It’s only that my father worries, you see. You must know how dearly he held your parents’ friendship, and seeing so many outsiders drawing close, he cannot help but worry that they are entering by exploiting a weak spot.”

Jin Guangshan’s worry might be more noble if it weren’t over the fear of losing his own place of influence with the unstable sect’s young leader, but then Jin Guangyao knows better than to expect nobility from gentry.

Drawing a breath, Jin Guangyao lowers his gaze to the tea sitting before him. When he looks back to Jiang Yanli, it’s with open worry in his gaze. The servants who sit behind her as chaperones share a look he can’t decipher in the moment, but he brushes it aside.

“After Wei Wuxian’s actions after the war,” he says as gently as a doctor placing needles, “Father fears that Jiang Wanyin may be the target of ambitious schemes.”

Jiang Yanli’s eyes widen just-so, and Jin Guangyao permits himself the smallest fraction of success. He isn’t really here to uproot the whole tree—only to nurture the seeds already planted by the war, by Wei Wuxian’s untamed recklessness during and after, by the very nature of being young and having centuries of legacy thrust into their safekeeping. It isn’t so hard to draw someone in, after all, if you make yours the only safe shelter from the storms of the world.

Sitting back slightly, Jiang Yanli dips her head briefly, and Jin Guangyao waits to see how he should arrange his next steps. Too heavy-handed and the fine struts of this work will shatter under the weight of the architect, but too light and it will slip away on the next tide. Jiang Yanli looks up, and it isn’t tears in her eyes but amusement, a secret joke in the faint curl of her lips.

“I thank you for your concern, Lianfang-zun,” she says, “but I assure you, Yunmeng Jiang is never stronger than when we are together.”

[flickeringart]

Basic personality natal chart reading (example)

This is a short analysis based on personal planetary placements by sign and aspect in your natal chart. It’s by no means a complete analysis of your chart; it’s a summary of the personal planets and how they express themselves through you. Planets represent autonomous principals of the unconscious. They exist independently of your will since they are your will. They are not you, but they are you in all the ways that you are yourself. If you can detach enough from them, you’ll see them more clearly. This short reading can hopefully provide some aid in self-analysis, an aid in self-observation.

Sun in Aquarius

The overall goal of your life is to develop your ethical, cerebral and visionary abilities. The faith in progression and future possibilities for yourself and others should be what carries you through, what you’re here to express, articulate and radiate. There’s potential for great understanding of human beings and an acceptance of all the facets that are part of the human experiences. The reason for your inclusive stance is your proclivity to see yourself as one of many, like a person jut like everybody else. However, this is not to imply that you trivialize the importance of people’s uniqueness – you have the ability to treasure yourself and others for being unique. The collective human family lies close to your heart. Other people probably feel comfortable with you, knowing that you’ll be able to understand their point of view – or at least attempt to, because you learn about yourself through others. You would have the inclination to think of yourself as part of a movement because you put an emphasis the common goal and the common cause – even if it’s secretly done for purely self-centered reasons. You’re self-investment is intellectual, which is why it’s not presented or perceived as purely selfish. What you go through as an individual is thought of in the context of a larger structural blueprint – it’s viewed in terms of a collective experience. You would tend to bring your individual desires and inclinations to the mental realm, to advocate for their legitimacy in terms of a societal presence. More than likely you accept and respect other people because you would want to the same thing in return. What you want for yourself you advocate for in social contexts. There’s openness to your identity, but you tend to be quite fixed once you’ve made up your mind – certain things are fundamentally inarguable to you. People will likely appreciate you for this, but they might find that you’re too fixed in your values as to make appropriate assessments of situations that involve personal emotion. Sometimes, you can take equality and respect to the point where it could turn toxic. Your strong idealistic identity might not be able to accept the raw reality as anything that has value – it might not fit into the image of rightness that you have established as a vision for yourself. People will love you for your strong intellectual investment in common goals – it will make others feel seen and supported. On the other hand it could make others feel like it’s purely about the progression of thought and not about them as individual beings, that it’s purely about the mental abstraction of their problems or dilemmas.

You’re conscious identity is quite tied up with your idea of redemption. You’d find that you put faith in yourself to embody the sublime and transcendent. You’re likely to be an incurable romantic with your goal of life being nothing less than the most rose-colored movie ideal. There’s something sacred about the frailty of life and you would be quite invested in the dream of perfection where everyone is sharing in mutual bliss. Beware of your tendency to fall into the roll of the victim, the savior or the martyr. Your lean towards unconditional empathy for yourself and others might not do you any favors in this world where self-preservation is so important. Empathy is a great, but if it’s not paired with healthy boundaries it’s draining and depleting. You might be reflective of other people and prone to absorb a lot of their emotional content – having resistance to embody concrete boundaries of self in terms of preference, opinion and stance. However, the tension of not being able to declare your self-centered needs and letting others set the tone might not work out – you’ll find yourself switching to being incredibly stubborn and demanding, surprising others with a strong and willful emotional temperament, unwilling to compromise. You have a tendency to end up in dynamics with others where you’re playing the reasonable and passive role in certain situations, while dealing with emotionally dramatic, moody and selfish people on the “outside”. The outside in this case is just you disowning and projecting your own emotionally dominant nature.

You are a quite bold, expansive and enthusiastic and explorative person – out to have fun and enjoy variety. However, this side of your would could also be projected, making others seem very exuberant and energetic in your presence while you have a hard time accommodating for these traits without loosing hold of yourself. You would have to adjust yourself in order to let lose and be carefree. Last but not least I would say that you’re identity has a great capacity for perseverance if you tap into it, a perceptive ability that enables you to see beyond the surface level of experience. Exploring the depths of existence, the murkier and darker parts would excite and stimulate you.

Moon in Leo

You’re feelings want to be on display. You need attention to thrive whether you’re conscious of it or not. You tend to take remarks and comments from others personally – there’s little detachment from outside opinions. You’re default setting is to approve of yourself and display your emotions proudly. Uncompromising approval of yourself not only makes you very stubborn, it also establishes a sense of authority. “My emotions should be catered to” could be an inner attitude – there’s likely something demanding  about your presence. Feelings of inferiority and incompetence hits particularly hard, which might cause you to puff up even more, hold your head even higher and turn snarky. You’re likely to hold on to feeling states for long periods until you feel that they have been “recognized “ and “validated” enough. When your needs are met you can be extremely loving – especially with the people that you consider to be part of your close circle. When you’re safe and comfortable you radiate confidence. In fact, that is what you do most of the time, even during your weaker moments. You have the great advantage of being able to own your feelings, to make them part of your life’s journey, to treat them like jewels – precious and personal even if they occasionally turn dark. You are playing the starring role in your life, there’s no question about it. There’s a sense of integrity and self-respect that is characteristic of your emotional nature. You would feel like you deserve the best and would be deeply upset if life disappoints. The mundane doesn’t satisfy you on an emotional level, you crave more than just carrying out the necessary routines of life and having a comfortable living situation. Life must have some drama to it in one way or another – you have to live in honor of love. That means that your daily activities and living situation must be imbued with the meaning of love. Everything you do is done in an attitude of granting yourself the very best of the experience. You’re emotional nature motivates you to act and accomplish things. Asserting your needs comes naturally and you generally stick to your set path because you are sure of what you feel should happen. You have great force and conviction backing your feeling nature. There’s a proclivity to want to dominate and manipulate others to cater to your needs, to be dependent on pleasing and satisfying to you. There’s an intensity and perseverance to your emotional nature, you are sure of your ability to cope in difficult situations without breaking apart emotionally. However, you might need to carefully adjust the way you communicate your needs, there’s an inconsistency in how well you are able to understand yourself mentally – and how well you communicate your feelings with others. Some insight and careful adjustment in how you think about yourself might be needed as to establish more a more accurate mental representation of your needs. The same goes for your idea of happiness – it might not completely rhyme with what you actually need to be fulfilled. Consider these things carefully. On another note, there might be a tendency to detach from emotions, to crave change and novelty, which might backfire quite badly. When you get too intensely caught in feeling things you would be inclined to want to change environment, move about and uproot. This might take a toll on your security needs and make you unpredictable in relationships. People might fear that you’ll get up and leave when things get too personal. You could even have this experience with others relative to your own emotions – people usually can’t handle the personal nature of your emotional expression and want to bolt or intellectualize the experience.

Mercury in Capricorn

Your way of communicating and interacting is deliberate and concentrated. You might not be excessively chatty or scattered; you choose your words because you are aware of their importance. There’s something very smooth and polite in your way of interacting, it’s predictable which would make others feel secure. You wouldn’t say things that could get you into trouble or cause disruption unnecessarily. That being said, you might come off as overly self-conscious in your exchange with unfamiliar people. It might make communication strained and awkward because everything is so calculated and thought through. Truth is, mental interaction with the environment takes focus for you, it’s not a matter of play -it’s something that has to be worked on. Your mental faculties are a bit slow, but this doesn’t mean that you lack of intelligence. It takes longer time for you to process things than some people but when you have, you’re completely sure of your knowledge and ability. Everything you do on a mental level is acquired rather than given. Speed and effectiveness in receiving and responding to things might develop over time. The challenge is to have patience in you learning process and in your communication with others. You want things to be done right which is quite admirable and responsible, however it might cause restriction of creativity and expression. You might have difficulty trusting yourself to understand things and to interpret things the right way. There’s likely a lot of second-guessing going on, causing you to work harder on establishing the reality of your conceptualizations. You would prefer to converse with people in contexts that you are familiar with, where you’re sure of the pattern of communication. People who are too quick, creative and individualistic in their way of interacting might make you uncomfortable. You would definitely stick to crowds where there’s not too much ambiguity present, where it’s possible to talk things over in concrete terms. You would dislike having to “think for yourself” or “just say what comes to mind”. There’s no spontaneity to you way of interacting, you’re always calculating the appropriate response. On another note, you’re intellect is positively stimulated by art and beauty. You might benefit from communicating artistically, through any medium or venue that appeals – it could be through clothing, through interior decorating or anything that concerns style and taste. You have a mind that thrives in refined and aesthetically pleasing spaces.  You seek to consume and react to beauty intellectually. You would find yourself mentally preoccupied with perfecting yourself and your environment – it would keep your mind pleasantly busy. However, there might not be a genuine exchange and adaptability in your interactions – you could frequently end up provoking anger and frustration in people. You could have a hard time finding common ground with others and they with you. There’s a lot a frustration present in interaction and learning – you don’t want to take things in, you want to assert and proclaim your knowledge. You’ll learn what you want; the rest is dumped along the wayside. There’s great energy to be stirred through learning and interacting– you will feel anger and frustration creep up or it will creep up in others in your environment. It’s likely that you’ll find that your emotions need to be adjusted to allow yourself to think clearly – you might have a hard time interacting when moods take over which threaten to drown out any communicative exchange. You can become unreachable to others, full of emotions and anger. Adjustment is required.

Venus in Pisces

You have a very ethereal aesthetic that is imbued with emotional undertones. You are drawn to the seemingly transcendent, symbols of the eternal and bittersweet. You have an attraction for that which lies in the background rather than in the foreground. People in the background fascinate you, catches your attention, draws you in. I’m not referring to the kind of people who have a loud presence, I’m referring to the one’s who have a soft energy, the ones who are seemingly non-existing, living in their own dream. Your preferences lie in the direction of passivity, of blending and merging. Being an emotional sponge is appealing to you, remaining open and undifferentiated. You might be good at intuitively assessing people, of appealing to their heart and drawing out their compassion and sensitivity. It’s likely that you have a sentimental streak and are able to sympathize with just about anyone in a social setting. In terms of style and taste you prefer softer colors since you wouldn’t want to stand out too much. However, you would want to draw attention to yourself through displaying receptivity. You’re social trump card is to be able to display genuine innocence which effectively lets you off the hook in most situations. You wouldn’t think there to be a need for you to be loved for your individuality, you would instead prefer someone to love you because they decided to not care about particularities. You would want someone who would love you no matter what, someone who could be one with you completely and not interact with you as a separate entity. Since your emotional needs, as already discussed, are very much centered around getting attention for your uniqueness and strong sense of self, it might take some adjustment to accommodate for your emotions and your preferences in terms of taste as to not cancel one or the other out. You might find that you like things that are mystic, withering or dissolving somehow, whether it’s a person, a book, a piece of clothing or something else that catches your eye. You’re not looking for the ordinary; if anything, you’re looking for the transcendent in the ordinary. Your mind lends itself well to experiencing the beauty you crave. You’re drawn to people’s minds and their way of thinking – the intellect seduces you. There’s a potential skill with words that would prove rewarding if activated and used. Reading, writing or speaking could prove stimulating and exciting. There’s great pleasure to be had from these activities. On a more serious note, you might find yourself attracted to intensity and it could scare you. There’s potential for attracting quite emotionally consuming relationships that have friction to them. You might not be able to admit that you crave the feeling of living on the edge of destruction a little bit and project the role of the “culprit” onto another person, making them play out primitive possessive tendencies while you reject them but secretly love them for it. In general you might find that you’re unable to love any other way than through great passion – or be loved by another in any other way. Your desires are similar to that of an animal, you have to get what you want or else you will suffer terribly. This all-consuming primitive love experience is what you crave, but it is commonly viewed as compulsive, inappropriate and too raw to risk acting out. In any case it’s wise to be conscious of it – and do with it as you please.

Mars in Taurus

You’re quite serene in stable carrying out activities. There’s a calmness and certainty to your way of taking on the world. There’s great stamina but likely difficulty of starting up smaller tasks – you thrive on long term planning – it’s through a steady and sure input of energy that you see your projects, visions and tasks to completion. The daily grind is what you’re the best at, keeping on track and not stopping for anything without having too much investment placed on the goal. Movement and routine itself is what you’re good at – putting one foot in front of the other will surely get you to where you need to go. You’re probably more of a doer rather than a thinker when it comes to getting your way. There’s a simplicity to this way of being which makes a lot of things easier – working out, cooking food or anything that doesn’t require too much thought is sometimes better done without too much technicalities and methods in the way. However, it’s easy to see how this could be to one’s disadvantage. To get the result one wants, there’s more planning and more facets to the process than just putting in the minutes or hours. It’s not always about the fact that one is doing something, it’s how it’s done that makes all the difference. You would tend to be very settled in activity, a bit too comfortable in your set tracks that you might miss the short cut to your goal. But you wouldn’t really mind because you’re made for the long distance run... or walk. You would tend to be persistent and be able to stick to set plans and work tasks. You have the ability to concentrate on something and get it done, although it might take a while. Time might not be a big issue for you; you are patient and willing to stick things out. In a nutshell, you’re at your best when you can make use of your stubborn will and consistent drive. You don’t get fired up easily, but if you’re poked one too many times you can flare up and stay in a flushed state for a while. Or, you turn quiet and “angsty” in your blocked state. You’re likely not fond of the discomfort and disharmony of anger and would much prefer to get out of it. Physical activity might really help to get the discordant energy out of your system. Something simple that doesn’t require too much thought would be perfect. Chances are that you are the most challenged in a fast paced environment with a lot going on at the same time. You require a set routine, a fixed working schedule because you thrive when you’re settled in your ways. Having to constantly adapt, change, reevaluate and rearrange in your daily activities doesn’t sit well with you. You’re motivated by constancy, security, comfort and predictability. These are your strengths and assets. You have great self-control and sense of responsibility as well as an ability to sometimes honor your restless spark that breaks patterns and protocol. It’s not done in a disruptive way; it indicates an ability to implement new insight. You can let your emotions guide you and let them stem from affect and instinct. This is easier for you than letting your intellect dictate your actions – it usually gets in the way and causes frustration to build. You might get frustrated trying to further your will through communication – somehow the method of interacting doesn’t work well with the method of assertion. You’d be easily irritated with other people, ending up in arguments when you can’t get your will to across through communication. When you talk and engage socially, there might be a real issue to get things across in a way that doesn’t conflict with your personal way of doing things. You have a frustrated power behind your words, a force to channel into your writing or speaking.

(Chart calculated at astrotheme.com)

[guiltysecretpasttime]

Blended

I was (thankfully) given some time off during this holiday season; which I promptly used to spend time with the family and recharge at home. Also spent time watching various movies during this time and a little LoK story idea came from it.

In my usual writing preference – it’s still a Lin/Tenzin endgame story but – in sort of a modern setting AU, blended family/semi-highschool themed with ages differed a bit (Lin and Tenzin was aged down by around 5 years). Expect it to be tropey and may be a bit of a cliché. This is written on a whim so if it doesn’t make sense…ah well. Haha! May edit this piece later on…

I’m considering this to be a short story, just a little self-indulgent-written-for-fun type of thing. But if other people enjoy it too then that’s such an added bonus so I’m sharing it with you as well. 😊 Let me know what you think since this is somewhat different from my usual style, I guess.

Also – I have misgivings regarding creating OCs so I’m likely to lean on canon characters and take a lot of creative license in developing them for the story.

 ---

Title (tentative):  Blended

Legend of Korra, Lin/Tenzin, Modern AU, no bending

(Not sure if one-shot or will be multi-part yet)

 ---

Tenzin, Republic City Primary School

“Thank you for making time to meet today,” The silver-haired lady clasped her hands together on her desk. “I know you must have a packed schedule, but I think it would be good to have the check-in session for your daughter today.”

“Yes, of course – anything for my daughter.” The bald and bearded man threw a look at the door’s window, where he could see his daughter swinging her legs while seated at the corridor.

“Ikki is a bright child and she’s been doing her best to catch up with the class requirements. She excels the most at individual tasks.” The teacher continued to talk a little bit more about the projects that the students have been working on.

Teacher Yue handed the father a folder marked “Ikki”. Tenzin carefully picked it up and looked into the contents, smiling as he saw Ikki’s artworks and class outputs.

“However, I see that she seems to have challenges in adjusting in a large class set-up.” Yue shared. “It’s nothing to worry about though. We’ve had several transferees in the past as well and this is usual; I expect that might take a little bit longer since it’s a transition from homeschooling to a big school.”

Tenzin frowned and he hurt for his daughter. His two children had both been homeschooled until recently.

They also had to experience a lot of upheaval in the past year or so – from the divorce, to being uprooted from their childhood home, moving to a new city, and then going to a new school.

He did notice that while his son was as precocious as ever (maybe owing to his young age?), his daughter had become more subdued since their move.

“What can we do for her?”

“Well, we have a big sister-little sister type of mentorship program.” The teacher pushed forward a brochure and several index cards. “It’s mostly an afterschool interaction activity, we have here several students who have been volunteering. Maybe you’d like to ask Ikki to join?” She pointed at the index cards. “Feel free to select which mentor you think would help her best. We usually ask the parent or the student to select their preferred mentor profile from the roster. We would not want Ikki to feel uncomfortable; you’d know her best than any teacher.”

He nodded. After a few moments perusing the index cards and the brochure and pulled out one from the pile. “Let’s go with this girl.”

Tenzin pointed out to a profile labelled Jinora.

 ---

Jinora, Home

The ten-year old girl has just finished putting hair in a bun when she heard a knock on her bedroom door.

“Jinora!” It was her oldest brother. “Mom says I can use the car today – want to leave with us instead of riding the bus?”

“Sure!” She called back, quickly grabbing her backpack. “I’ll be down in a bit.”

“Alright!”

Smack!

“Hey! Why did you do that for?”

“Good morning bro!”

Jinora rolled her eyes good-naturedly. That was probably her other brother slapping the arm of the other one.

Even at eighteen and sixteen years old respectively, they tend to act like children occasionally to the consternation of their mother.

She hurried down, knowing that if she did not do so, there would be no pancakes left for her.

Jinora heard her mother’s gruff voice in the dining room. “Bolin! Leave some eggs for your sister!”

“But, Mom,” Bolin spoke through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “I’m a growing boy. I need this stuff.”

“And Jinora is a growing girl,” Their mother drolly responded, taking a sip of her coffee after putting down the last batch of pancakes on the platter. “There should be enough from everyone.”

“It’s fine, Mom,” Jinora immediately sat down and her brother forked two pancakes to her plate. “Thanks, Mako.” She slathered butter all over the cakes then squeezed a load of maple syrup.

She ignored Bolin gagging at her left at the amount of sweetness. She also ignored her mother who was hiding a smile and shaking her head at seeing the display.

In their family, it was only Jinora had a penchant for sweets. Her mother said she likely took after her father in that regard.

Her father…her absentee father…

Jinora shook off her maudlin thoughts when she saw Pabu, Bolin’s pet guinea pig, land on her mother’s shoulder, probably hopping from her brother’s backpack which was hung behind his chair.

Pabu began chewing their mother’s greying hair without warning.

Wheek-wheek-wheek.

“BOLIN!”

“I’m so sorry, Mom! Pabu get down from there – leave mom’s hair alone!”

All in all, it was another morning in their household.

It was noisy and sometimes chaotic, but Jinora would not exchange it for the world.

 ---

Ikki, library

Truth be told, Ikki liked going to school. She even liked her teacher and classmates.

She liked to be busy and the activities were very interesting. Getting homeschooled and only seeing their tutor, nanny and Meelo had become very tedious anyway.

Staying at their old home also reminded her acutely that their mother was not there anymore. She did not understand what happened, but she tried to.

It has been more than a year since their parents sat her and her brother down to explain that they were separating but it did not mean they did not love her and Meelo any less.

At first, she thought it might have been her fault (or maybe Meelo’s fault for that matter, he did fart a lot and that annoyed her terribly). Her dad and mom were quick to quash those theories, however. They spoke of drifting apart, change in priorities and other grown-up things that she supposed she will understand when she gets older.

But for now, she supposed as she opened her notebook on one of the long tables in the library, they would need to get used to their new living arrangement.

It was difficult last year as they were shuttled to and from two households. It also did not help that their mother was starting out with her new venture had been spending less time at her home. On the other hand, Ikki noticed their father spending more time with them, cutting down his work hours. It all came to a head when Pema had said she will be moving to another country to establish her new business. And so, they ended up -.

“Hey, are you Ikki?”

Ikki looked up to see an older girl with dark brown hair in a bun.

She nodded her head yes.

The girl gave her a bright smile and extended her hand.

“I’m Jinora and welcome to Republic City!”

 ---

Lin, Future Industries Head Office

Lin tiredly wiped her glasses clean before putting them on again, rereading her email response for one last time before hitting send.

It had been a long yet productive day. Her team had managed to fulfill all the visual design requirements that were due that day. She reviewed the different files sent to the printers, making sure that the final and correct collaterals were attached.

Her last task was to ensure that the last set of proposals were on-brand and aligned with Future Industries’ visual identity. Once she had provided her comments and revisions needed on the file, she sat back as she waited for the files to be uploaded to their server.

She reached for her cellphone, wanting to check on her kids while waiting. She looked at their family group chat and read messages from the last time she sent one.

 Ohana (Lin repressed the urge to cringe. That was the final time that she would ask Bolin to create their group chat)

Lin: Kids – as mentioned earlier, I’ll be home a bit late. No need to drop by to fetch me; have dinner already and don’t wait up.

Jinora: Mom, I’ll be staying behind after class – I got a mentee! ☺ Mako Bolin can you wait up?

Mako: Jinora Bo has training today; I think we can wait for you.

Bolin: Jinora 👍🏼

Jinora: Mako Bolin thanks! 🙌

Jinora: Mako what will you be doing while waiting? You sure you’ll be okay?

Mako: Don’t worry about me. I’ll manage.

Lin scrolled through some more messages. Knowing her eldest, Mako would like skulk off to the library.

Jinora: I met my mentee this afternoon. She’s such a lovely girl.

Lin smiled at this. Her daughter had always been the polite one.

Jinora: Her name’s Ikki and she’s two years younger than me. She said she and her father had first checked out Patola Mountain Primary.

Lin frowned. Patola Primary was far; she went there as a child.

Mako: Kid didn’t like it there?

Jinora: They didn’t have the chance to know. They had to move besause of her father’s job.

Bolin: heeey sorry guys- just about to be done with training. Just gonna shower …unless I just shower at home?

Jinora: Ew, no Bo. Shower first please

Mako: Agree. You’ll stink up the car, bro.

Ding!

Lin drew her attention from her phone as her laptop screen indicated that the files have been uploaded. She hit the send button and packed up for the day.

She was looking forward to spending some quiet time with her kids tonight.

 ---

Bumi, White Lotus Headquarters

Bumi leaned back in his fully ergonomic chair, thinking about how times had changed.

Being in an office was something he balked at when he was younger. But now, after serving a long career in defense and military, he submitted his retirement and come to the aid of his younger brother.

Ah, his only brother – back in the day, he would be hard-pressed to keep contact with his brother.

His brother who took on the role of spearheading their family’s company back when their father died.

His brother who had the task of continuing to revive the company and making sure it keeps up with the times.

His brother, who, despite being the youngest, was tagged by the board of directors as the heir apparent owing to his excellent academic records.

His brother who Bumi had felt envious of at some point. He later on realized that his brother actually missed out on a lot of freedom in his life.

His brother who managed to keep their company part of the Top 100 and make malls relevant again.

His brother who probably made some life decisions for the benefit of their company rather than his own.

His brother who had been through hell and back the past year when he and his much younger wife called it quits. His brother whose ex-wife is now galivanting somewhere in the Fire Nation, expanding a business built on horticulture and floristry.

His brother who, despite making some decisions that Bumi might not agree with, is still family.

And if there was anything that their parents taught them – family is permanent.

The ex-military man took a deep breath, looking at their last family photo. For what it’s worth, he liked to think that their fragmented family had found its way back into each other in their adulthood.

Bumi had to admit that Tenzin did have remarkable business acumen that benefited their company, a conglomerate built on the mall industry. With the fourth industrial revolution at hand and the shift towards virtual and digital, the White Lotus Corporation had been challenged during the last years of their father’s life. Tenzin had worked hard to change the ways of working and the culture in the company.

To do it, he had to make sure that there is a buy-in from the board. Ironically, to bring the company to the current century, he had to abide with one of the most archaic practices – an arranged marriage, a marriage that would serve as a press release to the business world in general, that their company was stable and there to stay.

Bumi had been surprised to get a call from Tenzin back then. He had called to let him know of his impending engagement, seeking support. Bumi had cheered, given his congratulations – but named the wrong bride. He had launched into a long tirade, berating his brother for his choices. Tenzin had shouted back his defense.

He still did not understand why Tenzin acted the way he did. However, he could never regret his niece and nephew which came from this questionable business-like union.

Bloop-bloop-bloop.

Speaking of which…

“Hey Uncle Bumi!”

“Hello there, cloudchild!” Bumi greeted his niece with a nickname his sister Kya came up with, given that the kids were actually born somewhere near the mountains. “How’s the new school?”

“It’s great!” Ikki beamed at him and gushed into a long narrative of what she had been up to in the past days.

Bumi enjoyed video conferencing with his niece and nephew. Granted, Meelo had a short attention span but Ikki had always had the flair for storytelling.

It pleased him to see her spark back. He had heard from his brother and their trusted bodyguard/chauffeur Shung that Ikki had been withdrawn during the first weeks in Republic City. It saddened him to learn that the otherwise bubbly child had been affected in that way.

“…And then, I invited her over! Daddy said it was okay – and she’s sooooo nice. Didjaknow she also knows how to play the piano! We practiced a bit. She’s good even if her family didn’t have a piano, they only had this electronic keyboard but it’s so short. But she did well. She said she had a stepdad and it was totally okay. They’re a happy family. D’you think I’ll have a stepmom too? I think it would be okay if Daddy thinks so and maybe we’ll be a happy family here too and you know I joined this contest in school and I-.”

“Whoa, slow down, kiddo.” Bumi let out his booming laughter. “I didn’t quite catch it – what’s the name of your new friend?” He was heartened that Ikki seemed to have adjusted better now.

“Jinora!” His seven-year-old niece practically chirped the name. “She’s actually here!” Ikki turned to someone from beyond the view of the webcam. “Jin, it’s my Uncle Bumi – I want you to meet him!”

“Um, it’s fine, Ikki.” A calm voice of an older child can be heard. “I can wait here.”

“Nooonseeense.” Bumi could see Ikki pull something, rather someone to the camera. “Uncle Bumi, this is my friend Jinora. Jinora, my Uncle Bumi.” She said by way of introducing them.

Jinora gives a small wave and a soft hello.

Bumi gives them a short bow. “Nice to meet you, Jinora. It’s great to meet the friend of my favorite niece (Ikki ­please don’t tell Korra).”

Ikki gives a delighted clap and proceeds into another lengthy tale on what she and Jinora were working on that day at home.

Bumi smiles back at them, observing the children’s banter as they demonstrate the monologue that Ikki was preparing for. It was amusing.

Heh, they could be cousins.

He recalled when he was young, he, his siblings and even the sisters-who-must-not-be-named would stay over in one house after school to work on school projects. It had been one of the highlights of his childhood. He was glad that his niece would be somewhat experience it; he had been worried a few years back when Tenzin and Pema (primarily Pema) were very protective of their kids. It was to the point that they were both homeschooled and basically kept out of the public eye and the public itself.

It can’t be good for socialization. But what can he say? He didn’t have kids so he probably wouldn’t know what he was talking about, right?

He’s just fun ole Uncle Bumi.

Nonetheless, as he turned his attention back to the two girls, Bumi promised himself that he will always be there for his brother’s kids. It’s the least he could do as their godfather.

 ---

Mako, Republic City High

“I worry about Mom.” Mako picked at his dumplings during lunch time, a stark contrast to his brother who was eating a lot (“Coach said I needed to bulk up!”).

“Why? Has my dad been overworking her?” Asami slipped beside him at their usual lunch table. She brought out her packed lunch of pasta and a bottle of coconut water. “Just let me know and I can try to look into it.” She was, after all, interning at Future Industries in her spare time.

“Now that’s just powerplay.” The exchange student from Ba Sing Se High chortled, taking a sip of his sparkling water. “And that’s a no-no and Auntie will definitely get mad if she hears about that.”

“You would know about powerplay,” Bolin swallowed a mouthful of chicken, pointing his fork at the other boy. “Wasn’t that why you got the last slot in the elective you wanted to take this year?”

“Who? Me?” The other boy dramatically placed a hand on his chest, eyes widening. “You think, I Wu would stoop so low as to manipulate the results of the audition for the voice elective? Don’t you think I have enough talent to get into that class?”

Bolin just snorted into his food and Asami choked on her drink. Wu cracked a smile at their reactions.

“Again, Wu – don’t let Mom hear you call her Auntie.” Mako reiterated for the nth time in their friendship. “She hates it.”

“That’s why I do it.” Wu winked at them.

“Wait, Mako, what were you saying about Mom?” Bolin managed to ask in between bites of food. “Is something wrong? I mean, she’s a little bit run-down but she said it’s just because of the time of the year.” The last quarter of the year, after all, is usually the busiest.

“No, it’s just – well,” Mako sought words to explain it. “I’ll be leaving for college, you’ll be away for training, and okay, Jinora would be there but she’s in middle school now…” He trailed off. With Jinora’s aptitude and interests, Mako would not be surprised if she took on a lot of electives and extra-curricular activities. “Mom works too hard, you know?” He ended lamely.

“She has always looked out for us, but yeah,” A shadow passed over his brother’s face. “Ever since Pa passed away a few years back, she poured much of her energy to ensuring our welfare. She’s barely spent time for herself.”

Mako met Bolin’s now worried eyes.

The brothers knew that their mom had sacrificed a lot for them and Jinora.

When they first met Lin and one-year-old Jinora, she had already been under a lot of duress – taking care of a baby, leaving behind Jinora’s deadbeat dad, settling down in a new neighborhood and restarting a career. It had been two years later when she married their father San, who had been a sergeant at the city’s police station at the time.

And, Mako thought wearily, history has not been kind to Lin Beifong at all. While they did have four years (four wonderful years that Mako will treasure for the rest of his life), their fairytale-like family life came to an abrupt end.

San was involved in an armed bank robbery four years later and had not survived the gunshot wounds – leaving Lin behind with two boys at the brink of puberty and a young daughter.

Bolin and Jinora had been very confused at the time. Mako, already fifteen, had been expecting that he and Bolin would be forced into the system or sent off to their relatives in Ba Sing Se. He felt that Lin would not be in any way obligated to take him and his brother in; they were not blood relatives anyway. They were just stepchildren.

To his stunned astonishment, Lin did neither.  He recalled crying in Lin’s arms that night after his father’s funeral.

She had asked him, with a confused expression, why he was packing. Lin wept alongside him as she explained that Mako and Bolin are her sons and there was no way that she was sending them away.

Since then, Mako made sure to look after his mom the way she looked after them. The brothers’ protectiveness was soon well-known in their neighborhood.

Probably also why no one had expressed any type of interest towards Lin even years after…

Mako reflected that it might have been a good move on their part but now it might have been a little bit selfish.

He and Bolin would now need to rethink their strategy…

After all, their mom Lin deserves all the happiness in the world.

 ---

Tenzin, Republic City Primary School – Parking Lot

“Are you sure you’re not just using this as an excuse to have a sleepover?” Tenzin looked over at his daughter, a teasing grin out of place on his face.

“Of course not, Daddy.” Ikki replied indignantly, kicking pebbles as they waited at the parking lot.

“Why can’t you do the project at our house?” He was actually leaning towards allowing Ikki on her first ever sleepover/overnight but he wanted to hear from his daughter.

“We’ll need a big big printer, Daddy.” Ikki raised her arms to show him just how big. “We’ll need to print out my project and Jinora’s mommy has a big printer and lamin-lami-lamintor (“Laminating machine, dear?” Tenzin clarified.) because she frilancets (“Freelances?”).”

“Mmhhmm.” Tenzin looked across the school building, shifting Ikki’s overnight bag on his shoulder.

Ikki timidly approached him the other night, asking if she could spend Friday night and Saturday at her friend Jinora’s house. They had an output required of them of the big sister-little sister program. Tenzin was actually unclear as to what is the specific output that the girls had decided on but it did require a large-scale printer and a laminating machine.

Jinora attempted to explain to him what they were going to do during the last week that they were in his house but he felt out of his depth so he had nodded and let them work on what they needed to.

The father had met Jinora several times already in the past months so he knew the child was in earnest that their intent for the overnight activity would be mainly to finish a project. He also realized (well, Bumi made him realize) that Ikki was old enough for a sleepover (and Pema’s overprotectiveness would be to the detriment of their kids’ development). Additionally, he thought grimly, it would also keep Meelo from wreaking havoc on the work area of the girls.

Nonetheless, he took up Jinora’s mom’s offer to meet up for snacks before she takes the kids home. This would give him a chance to meet the mom, discuss some ground rules and as well thank the mom privately for letting Jinora help Ikki come out of her shell during her first months in Republic City Primary. Jinora did say that her pa and mom used to do the same before she spends the night over at her other friends – the parents meet up, share a small meal, get to know each other. Tenzin thought this was a good parenting tactic; it would definitely assuage his fears as well.

But now, said mom was late.

Jinora had hurried to them, dragging with her a large cartolina and illustration board. She explained that her mom’s work meeting overran and if it would be okay if she rode with them? Her mom will be meeting them at the local diner instead, so they don’t get caught up in traffic.

Tenzin could feel his impatience growing.

So far, this woman was not making a good impression on him.

How on earth she produced a lovely daughter like Jinora was beyond him.

 ---

Lin, Narook’s

Damn Sato, Lin ground her teeth as she finally parked her car into the last parking space in front of Narook’s. Of all the days for a meeting to go over time, it has to be today when she had explicitly asked to leave early to fetch her daughter.

Jinora had provided her enough context to know that making a good impression with Ikki’s dad was important to her daughter.

Lin heard that the dad was some big shot divorced corporate guy, who, she thought, was a bit paranoid about his kids’ safety.

Lin acted as an arts club moderator so she was regularly present at the Republic City High, which gave her chances to meet Ikki whenever she drops by the primary school to fetch Jinora.

The girl was a sweet child – energetic and delightful once she felt comfortable enough with you. It had come to her attention, in the short conversations with the kid, that she was not allowed to go out and play with other kids in their old neighborhood so she was very much excited to have a new friend outside of her class and her family.

When Jinora mentioned their culminating project and their dilemma on the timeline and materials, Lin suggested that they take the project home to work on.

The crestfallen expression of Ikki as she stated that her dad would not allow her pushed Lin to share that she’s willing to talk to the dad to help convince him to give his permission.

The infectious smile that burst on Ikki’s face was enough to convince Lin that she made the right decision.

Now, however, as she entered the diner, spotting her daughter at the corner booth, she froze and started to doubt all her life decisions that led to this moment.

Wondering and questioning the universe what had she done in her past life for her to deserve this.

Across Jinora, beside the talkative Ikki, sat Tenzin – her former boyfriend and Jinora’s father.

 ---

Note: Soooo hmmmmmm. What do you think?

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game - CH111

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

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-----

Chapter 111: The Dream of the Holy Nun (I)

In an instant, the aircraft had already flown over the rain clouds and the setting sun shone through the transparent window, casting warm gold onto the three people in the aircraft. Al drove the aircraft, and the inner cabin of this small aircraft was narrow. Qi Leren and Ning Zhou sat side by side, waiting for the aircraft to land.

The heavy memento ring was still in Qi Leren’s hand. He played with the ring, a little absent-minded as he recounted what had happened. The last image he’d seen before the hatch had closed behind him was still deeply imprinted in his mind: amidst the thunderstorm, the believers rushed toward the departing aircraft, but Ashley had turned around and disappeared into the crowd against the flow of people.

The young boy who blushed when he met his eyes had changed.

When he was on duty, Qi Leren hadn't paid much attention to him. He paid more attention to Mrs. Kathleen than to Ashley, who was just an introduction to his task. In order to catch Mrs. Kathlee’s support, he’d mixed into the Slaughter Secret Society, but somehow, at the end of the task, it was this teenager who followed behind Mrs. Kathleen like a shadow who suddenly was impressed upon him.

But it didn't make sense. Sooner or later, they would fall into the hands of the Trials Office, and the Village of Dusk’s Slaughter Secret Society would soon be uprooted.

Qi Leren picked up the ring with Luo Yishan's blood on it. The ring reflected the bright light of the sunset outside the window.

Ning Zhou looked at the ring then looked at him as well. The outline of the side of his face was softened by the light, and the sunset passed through his eyelashes, leaving countless shadows. Qi Leren's eyes fell from the ring to Ning Zhou's face. For a moment, he wanted to ask about the blue gem ring, but he couldn't ask, he could only smile at Ning Zhou.

An incredible thing happened at this moment. Ning Zhou, who has always been unsmiling, softened his expression and smiled back at him.

The roaring sound of the ship’s engine disappeared from his ears, as did the ticking sounds of the machinery. Even the orange sunset seemed to disappear. Qi Leren stared at Ning Zhou's rare smile and was speechless.

It was silly, because he still held the Slaughter Secret Society’s memento ring, as if he were going to give it to someone.

"Remove the seed of slaughter when you go back," Ning Zhou said, the side of his face being made noticeably warm by the red light of the dreamy sunset.

"Oh... Yeah, okay." Having come to his senses, Qi Leren touched the seed of slaughter that had grown from the back of his neck down his spine. This timebomb could finally be gotten rid of.

"Ning Zhou... For this time, thank you," Qi Leren whispered his gratitude.

Ning Zhou shook his head and said nothing.

Qi Leren understood what he meant. He didn't mean anything by it. He was just doing what he thought should be done, and he would never ask for anything in return.

Al, who is driving the aircraft, had been paying attention to the movement behind him. At this moment, he finally rolled his eyes. What's the matter with these two people? Affectionately looking at each other for half a day, were they going to kiss? Even if movie law states that "there must be a kiss after a big battle", you have to look at the gender clearly!

Thinking this, Al suddenly felt a little ashamed. This task was really too difficult for new people. Seeing that a good young man had had his sexual orientation become wrong due to his special training... And Ning Zhou, the Holy See forbade homosexuality.

The aircraft landed at the Courthouse, and Qi Leren was not as upset by this visit as he had been the last time he’d been to the Courthouse. With the task completed, he walked off the aircraft with high spirits and followed Al into the Courthouse.

This time, instead of being taken into the underground area, he went directly to an office.

Al knocked on the door and a man's voice came from inside: "Come in."

Al opened the door and motioned for Qi Leren to go in. Instead, Ning Zhou went in first.

The person inside stood at the window with his back to them. He seemed to be looking at the sunset that lingered on the coastline. When he heard footsteps, he turned around and saw Ning Zhou at the door and suddenly asked, "What are you doing here?"

Qi Leren didn't know who this man was. The last time he’d come to the Court, he’d seen him come out with Ning Zhou. He should be the Court’s leader. Seeing him at this moment, Qi Leren suddenly had a kind of confidence - so, Red’s style of dress was not so girly.

Look at this one - tall, pale, thin, straight black hair. His face was really neutral. If it wasn’t for his voice, he wouldn’t have been sure he was a man. Qi Leren would definitely think this was a sophisticated elder sister.

Qi Leren was looking straight ahead when Ning Zhou suddenly caught his gaze and held out his hand.

What was this? Qi Leren took a slow beat to remember the memento ring and handed it to Ning Zhou quickly.

Ning Zhou took the memento ring and threw it without looking at it. The other party quickly caught it and complained: "I really don't know why you’re so angry... Hello Qi Leren. Although it’s not the first time we’ve met, I didn't rush to introduce myself last time."

The man came over, held out his hand to Qi Leren, and shook it gently before pulling away: "I’m Si Ling, acting chief executive officer of the Court. Thank you very much for your support for this mission. We’ll honor our previous promises at any time."

"What about other rewards?" Ning Zhou asked coldly.

Si Ling sighed: "Well, because you’ve done very well, we’ll give you an extra reward, such as skill cards and items, which can be converted into survival days. You can tell us your general requirements and we will try our best to satisfy you."

Qi Leren was delighted. He wanted the skill card lent to him before by the Trial that improved the basic values of equipped cards. Otherwise, he wouldn't have had the agility and strength to fight with Luo Yishan for so long.

But…

"I want to participate in Court’s the training of newcomers," Qi Leren said firmly.

Skill cards could improve his ability instantly, but if he didn't try to improve himself while he was still a newcomer, he would die in a task sooner or later. He still had many mysteries to solve, and he wanted to go further.

Si Ling raised his eyebrows. It seemed that he didn't expect him to put forward this request.

"It seems you’re smarter than I thought." Si Ling approached him. At close range, his eyes seemed to be like that of a cold-blooded reptile, his pupils longer than that of ordinary people. The distance between the two people had exceeded the limit of politeness and Qi Leren felt a chill coming from Si Ling.

This was not the coldness brought by an aura, but a kind of substantial coldness. It was like the coldness from a refrigerator when the door was opened. It was not aimed at him, but was a real coldness.

"Then let Al train you," Si Ling took a step back, glanced at Ning Zhou with a smile, and then smiled at the guest.

"Choose something else," NingZhou suddenly said.

Qi Leren sighed blankly, only to hear Ning Zhou repeat: "I'll train you. Choose something else."

Someone had volunteered to be his coach. Qi Leren immediately understood Ning Zhou's meaning. He could make other demands to the Tria, he shouldn’t waste this precious opportunity on training himself. Although he didn't think it was a waste, since there were better people willing to help him, he could make other demands to the Trial.

"Hey, although the Trial is an extension of the Holy See, you shouldn’t take advantage of us," Si Ling said with an air of annoyance.

Ning Zhou ignored him and said to Qi Leren: "If you can't think of something, keep it. If you want to use the Trail in the future, you don't have to be polite to them."

"Oh... I'll keep it." Qi Leren listened to the good advice. Maybe he could avoid being arrested in the future.

Si Ling walked past the two men, opened the door of his office, and held out his hand perfunctorily: "You can leave."

Qi Leren felt as if he had successfully offended him and was a little nervous. He smiled kindly at Si Ling and left quickly.

"Ning Zhou," Si Ling stopped him.

Ning Zhou’s footsteps stopped and he looked at Si Ling. He looked at him with a dignified expression: "The Pope once praised you in front of me. He said that you never let him down."

Ning Zhou’s hand at his side moved for a moment, slowly clenching into a tight fist.

"I won't let him down," He said, turning and walking out of the room.

-----

Editor’s Notes:

Ning Zhou: [smiles]

Qi Leren: qileren.exe has stopped working

-----

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[progamermove]

First Kiss

Pairing: Blades of light and shadow (Nia x F!MC Kaisa)

Word count: 1941

Rating: T

Warnings: Action scenes involving blood

Summary: Nia and MC share a quiet moment together after a difficult fight. A re-imagining of their first kiss.

@bladesappreciationweek

xxx

“Kit! I hope you’re coming up with a plan back there and not just leaving the fighting to us,” Mal calls out as he weaves between skeletal bodies, their swords sparking as he parries them with his daggers. Kaisa grunts in reply, her hands frantically tying knots across rope before looping it around a stump of a tree, the remains of the top half splintered. 

“Ready! Lead them my way,” Kaisa shouts, sprinting towards the open chasm, blonde hair whipping behind. Imtura and Tyril immediately act, running after Kaisa and drawing their enemies with them. 

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Landrat”

“Not at all!”

Imtura lets out an incredulous laugh, allowing a quick glance to her side to see the crazy elf she threw her lot with. Kaisa stood on the edge of the chasm, pale skin glowing from the sweat dotted around her brow and blonde hair windswept and fighting out of the loose ponytail she pulled it in. “Well at least you’re honest,” Imtura remarks, twirling her axes as she faces the horde of enemies running towards them. 

“Got to have more than just my pretty face, you know? With this line of business you never know how long these devilishly good looks will last,” Kaisa grins and finishes the knot around her waist, tugging on the rope. 

The roar of the skeletal figures echo into the forest as they charge forward, closing the distance between the two elves and orc. “Tyril, Imtura, scatter to the sides and push them over. I’m playing bait.” Tyril’s eyes widen, “What do you mean you’re playing bait-” 

“No time to explain, Move!” Tyril and Imtura quickly dash to the side, leaving Kaisa alone at the edge of the chasm, face resolute.

Kaisa takes out an onyx shard, gloved hand protecting her as she waves it in the air. “Hey uglies, I think I have what you’re looking for,” Kaisa beckons the skeletons with a wide grin, blue eyes glinting. They all answer with guttural shrieks, purple energy crackling in their eyes as they focus onto Kaisa, swords and claws extended out. “NOW,” Kaisa bellows as soon as she is surrounded. Nia, who was waiting for the signal behind a tree, pops out and unleashes a wave of light, the air popping as an invisible force hits the crowd of bodies, pushing them over the edge.

Kaisa enjoys the sensation of being weightless for a moment, the blue sky marred by the flailing bodies of the skeletons who follow her over the edge. She just about shoves the onyx shard back into her pouch when the rope goes taunt, abruptly stopping her descent and slams her into the chasm wall, knocking the air out of her lungs. “I- I hope no one saw that,” Kaisa wheezes out, dark spots dancing in front of her eyes as she draws ragged breaths back into her lungs. In her distraction, she didn’t spot the lone skeletal figure who managed to wedge their blade into the wall just below her, slowly climbing up.

“Kaisa, watch out!”

Kaisa looks around dazed, confused by Nia’s warning before she feels a painful tug onto her ankle. The rope dips, dropping Kaisa lower down the chasm, and face to face with the snapping maw of the skeleton whose clawed hands, yellow and grisled, swipes at her face. She jerks back, “woah there,” kicking out at the wall to swing away from the claws. Her body drops again, the rope extending to place her under the skeleton.

“KAISA!”

Imtura and Tyril lunge for the rope, digging their heels into the ground to keep it steady. The tree stump is uprooted and dragged half across the dirt, Mal hugging it to his chest and leaning back with all his weight, desperately trying to keep anchor. “Priestess, pl-please send a message to our dear friend that it would be wise," Mal clenches his teeth, "to start climbing." His feet drag slowly across the ground, deep burrows left in his wake.

The skeleton kicks out at Kaisa, the elf too slow to avoid the metal boot to her face. The crunching sound bounces off the walls as her nose twists to the side, blood gushing down, staining the front of her shirt. Through slitted eyes, Kaisa retaliates with a thrust, her short sword cracking pieces of the skeleton’s rib cage, the bone shards falling into the darkness below. In a desperate act the skeleton jumps from the wall, throwing their body at Kaisa. She grunts as the skeletal frame slams into her, their intertwined forms spinning before crashing into the wall. The rope drops again and Kaisa can hear her friends' shouts get louder.

“No. Free. Rides!” Kaisa shouts as she hacks at the skeleton with her short sword, the blade coming down onto any exposed bone. The skeleton shrieks in outrage, bones splintering and crumbling as the purple energy that keeps it tethered starts to flicker. It gets one last good swipe, jagged nails clawing down the side of Kaisa’s arm, before the light dims completely and the broken bones fall into the abyss. Kaisa's bloodied form alone.

“Thank the light, she’s okay,” Nia whispers, dirt staining her dress as she lay on the floor, peering over the edge. Imtura, Tyril and Mal slowly start to walk backwards, dragging Kaisa back up the wall. As soon as Kaisa is within arm length, Nia offers her hand and helps pull the elf to safety. Kaisa crawls over the edge and immediately collapses onto the floor, eyes closed and chest rising and falling in deep breaths.  

“I’m starting to think that my plans could use a little work.”

“I don't know, some ladies like scars and idiots,” Imtura winks, taking a seat next to Kaisa who still has her eyes closed, "I mean look at Mal." There is a muffled 'Hey' in the distance. 

“I’m not even sure that constituted a plan.” Tyril has an eyebrow raised as he stares down at his bloodstained friend, arms crossed over his chest. 

Kaisa chuckles at Tyril's words before flinching, eyes snapping open. "Sorry, I just wanted to check for any head wounds," Nia murmurs, hand awkwardly hovering above Kaisa's head. 

"You just caught me by surprise," Kaisa's eyes soften, "go ahead."

With permission now, Nia starts to carefully run her hand into Kaisa’s hair, brushing the blonde locks away from the elf’s face and wincing lightly as she feels the drying blood in some of the strands. Kaisa relaxes into her touch, melting under the gentle caress. A warm glow of affection swells in her chest as she watches Kaisa's long ears quiver and dip whenever she tickles near the nape of her neck.

“It seems your nose took the brunt of the damage. Luckily for you, I can fix that easily, ” Nia’s hand starts to glow a soft, white light. Kaisa opens her eyes slightly, unsure when she closed them, "Have I mentioned that you're my favourite?” She drops her voice into a whisper, a playful smile tugging at her lips. As if drawn, Nia glances down at her lips, distracted and flushed. She stutters, failing to respond before clearing her throat and refocusing on her magic. 

The warmth of Nia’s magic envelopes Kaisa and she lets out a soft, content sigh. Before long, she can breathe through her nose again and the copper taste at the back of her throat is gone. 

Instead of moving right away, Kaisa continues to stare up at Nia, a fond look in her eyes and Nia leaves her hand on Kaisa’s cheek, fingers absently stroking. Kaisa could have sworn that Nia’s face was getting closer to her own and she tilted her own head closer, trying to reach up but as she lifted her hand up she was jarred out of the motion by Mal’s voice. 

“As sweet as this is to watch, we should set up camp. Night is about to fall and I don’t know about you but I am exhausted.” Kaisa sits up, feeling her face heat up as she takes in the amused looks of Tyril, Imtura and Mal. Nia has gotten up and busied herself with dusting off her dress, refusing to look at anyone.

“Camp, of course, let us do that.”

Kaisa ignores Mal’s snickers as she gets to her feet and walks away, throwing one last look at Nia before gathering her bag and supplies to help set up camp. The group was practiced at setting up camp at this point, everyone knowing their roles. Imtura went out to gather firewood, Tyril and Kaisa set out the bedrolls and tents for everyone while Nia and Mal sorted through their herb and food storage in preparation for dinner. Threep was content to watch all this unfold, giving his opinion on matters now and again.  Soon enough dinner was ready and everyone was quietly laughing around the campfire, forgetting about the horrors of the day.

“Are you cold?” 

Nia looks to Kaisa, the elf’s smiling face illuminated by the gentle light of the fire, giving her an almost ethereal glow. “Just a little,” the priestess admits with a faint blush, embarrassed. Kaisa shrugs off her cloak and tucks it around Nia, making sure to secure it. “You know, this reminds me of when we first met. I remember telling you that I could help keep you warm,” a playful smile plays across the elf’s lips. “That feels like a lifetime ago,” Nia chuckles. “We were talking about how we wanted to see more of the world and here we are, travelling across the lands to find the onyx shards and stop the shadow court.” She shakes her head, smiling ruefully up at Kaisa. “I can’t say that this is how I envisioned my journey going.”

“Well I’m glad you’re here. With me”

Mal, Imtura and Tyril share a look, nodding silently with one another as they move to their tents. Mal sends a wink to the oblivious pair before ducking into his tent; the two too lost in their own world to notice that everyone has left. Only Threep remains, his sleeping body stretched out in front of the fire, soft purrs heard now and again.

“Kaisa…”

Nia moves closer, her hand coming up to rest on the elf’s face. Kaisa leans into the touch, her arm snaking around Nia’s waist to pull her in. Her thumb brushes across pink lips, tracing the bottom lip almost as if trying to memorise it. “Would you give me this?” Kaisa whispers, her face dipping close. In reply, Nia tilts her head, pressing her lips softly to Kaisa’s. 

It was like coming home. A warmth that not even her magic could compare to as they drank each other in, their lips moving softly against each other, pressed together. Kaisa tugged Nia closer by her waist, pulling the priestess into her lap, her other hand moving to cup the back of her neck. Nia clung to Kaisa’s shoulders, unsure where to place her hands, feeling lightheaded as she became lost in the kiss, her first kiss.

Carefully, Kaisa left Nia’s lips, but never fully separated. Brushing kisses across her cheek before nuzzling into her neck, lips resting against her skin. Nia shuddered at the sensation, her hand creeping into Kaisa’s hair. “It may be selfish, but I’m glad your journey led to me,” she whispered against Nia’s skin. The hand in her hair scratched gently at her scalp, before tightening to tug her face up so she was staring into Nia’s eyes. 

“Me too”

And like a silent prayer, their lips met once more. 

[auroracalisto]

lotus flower

summary: escaping an abusive relationship was difficult.  rushing to a camp in the middle of nowhere to escape your husband shouldn’t have been as terrifying as it turned out to be.

pairing: xavier plympton x reader x chet clancy, reader x abusive husband named roger

word count: 1.5k words

warnings: abuse, physical abuse and mental abuse, mentions of abuse and physical depictions of what happened, ahs 1984, canon typical situations 

a/n: idk if i’ll actually continue this bc idk if it will do well.  however, i wanted to see the response i would get and i really liked writing this in general soooo.  also, for the title, just look up the meaning of a lotus flower :) you’ll understand if you don’t already.  

You were running.  From him.  From your past.  From the nakedness that now adorned your ring finger.  And that’s how you ended up at Camp Redwood, as a counselor.  It was a job, far away from Roger.  As much as you had wished you could have stayed and not uproot your entire life, you knew that staying there was dangerous.

The fading bruises on your stomach were proof of that.

You had heard about the position through the newspaper—the only survivor of the 70′s massacre wanted to open it up to try and create some good memories there.

Miles away and deep in the forest was your best bet of avoiding your abusive husband.

So you called and inquired about the job—you weren’t even interviewed hardly.  The woman asked your name and said you were accepted.  All you had to do was show up the day before the kids were supposed to be there.  It would be you and a couple other counselors, but there weren’t that many kids—you wouldn’t be bombarded by everything.

You had hardly been out of your car for five minutes when Margaret led you over to Bertie.

“While we wait for the others to arrive, maybe you can help Bertie,” she said, giving you a smile.  “I’ll be back.”

She didn’t wait long before she rushed off, leaving you alone with the chef.  You gave her an awkward smile.

“Hi...”

“Hi, sweetheart,” she said, balancing her cigarette between her teeth as she talked.  “Here,” she moved to grab a crate full of bread.  “Take this inside for me?”

You immediately did as you were asked, taking the crate as soon as she handed it to you.  She took notice of your shakiness, but she didn’t comment on it, much like she didn’t comment on the multiple scars you had lining your bare arms.

Bertie took in a couple more things with you, only taking a break to light another cigarette.

"And this is Chef Bertie," Margaret said, walking up alongside of quite a few other people. You stood by her truck, looking at the people as they all came around. "A Camp Redwood veteran."

"Dibs," a man with blonde hair and a blue shirt quickly spoke. He smiled over at his friends, clearly joking.

"You wouldn't know what to do with it if you got it, handsome," Bertie spoke, smirking over at the man.

You couldn't help but laugh at Bertie, quickly placing a hand over your mouth.

"And who are you?" the blonde quickly asked, raising an eyebrow.

You averted your gaze.

"She's another counselor. She got here earlier in the day. [Your name]'s car was the one you parked beside of," Margaret said.

"Oh, so the one Xavier here almost hit with his door?" a blonde girl grinned, crossed her arms over her chest.

Xavier's eyes widened and he looked back at her. "I did not!"

Bertie rolled her eyes, holding up a crate of eggs. "Put those scrawny arms to work and help a lady fill her pantry. All of you, grab a crate. This heat is a killer," she spoke, sighing softly as she removed her cigarette. "You don't have to carry anymore, [Your name]—"

"—I can," you smiled over at the woman. You moved to take a crate which looked as though it had been filled with bottles of spices, sugars, and flour.

The man beside of Xavier had taken the crate of eggs.

A guy with brown hair came up beside of you, his arm brushing against yours as he grabbed a crate himself. He blushed but couldn't help himself from smiling at you.

"Sorry," he said.

You gave a hesitant smile, moving to walk back into the dining hall when Margaret began to speak again.

"Chef Bertie here worked here when I was a counselor. We are so blessed to have her with us."

Bertie continued to talk while everyone else carried in crates. You stayed inside, putting things where they needed to go—it wasn't that hard to figure out things. Of course, you avoided putting up things like spices. You didn't know if she liked them organized a certain way. As you walked back out, you couldn't help but overhear Bertie.

"I'm sorry that one bad apple ruined it for everyone. Minute I heard Margaret was reopening this place," she said, waving her hand, "I was the first to volunteer."

Margaret looked at everyone and breathed through her nose. "Alright. Let's continue with our tour. [Your name], come along with us. You haven't seen everything yet."

You gave a small nod and hesitantly followed along, looking at the group of people. They all seemed pretty friendly with each other.

The lot of you walked along towards the showers. Margaret was set on showing you all everything.

"Girls shower in the AM, boys in the PM. Same goes for counselors, too."

Eventually, your walk lead you to the cabins.

Margaret eventually left you all alone, and you stayed in the girls cabin.  The boys ended up sticking around, talking with the girls that they clearly knew.  You sat on your claimed bed, looking through your suitcase.  You purse your lips, half-listening to their conversation, half-not even paying attention to what you were looking for.  

“Hey,” the same boy who bumped into you earlier spoke.  “[Your name], right?”

You looked up, seeing him standing right in front of you.  Your eyes widened but you nodded.  

“Uh, yeah.”

“I’m Chet,” he grinned.  “Mind if I?” he pointed to the spot beside of you.  

You nodded in response.  Chet sat down beside of you on your bed, handing you an unopened can of beer.  

“Uh, no thank you,” you said, shaking your head.  “I’ve... seen enough alcohol to last me a lifetime.”

“Seen—“ he stopped himself, nodding slightly as he watched you.  “Alright.  Well, why don’t you come join us?  I promise, we don’t bite,” he chuckled softly.  “We’re gonna turn on the TV.  Don’t be a loner,” he said.  “We’ll be here all summer anyway.  Might as well get to know each other now.”

You nodded, knowing he was right.  “Uh, okay,” you said, nervously biting the inside of your cheek.  

Chet continued to smile in your direction.  He stood up, holding his hand out to you.  “Come on,” he said.  

A feeling in your gut was screaming at you to just stay put.  But you reached out to take his hand, knowing that for the first time in several years, you could do so without someone waiting to ridicule you for it.  

Chet smiled even more once you took his hand and he lead you over to the couch.  

Everyone introduced themselves to you, making sure they knew your name correctly as well.  

The flirtatious blonde looked over at you, his eyes set in a glare.  

“You better not think about stealing Bertie from me.”

Your eyes widened and you felt your cheeks burn.  “I would never—”

“Mhm,” Xavier rolled his eyes.  “I saw how you looked at her.  If I were her, I would have looked at you the same way.”

“Wow, Xavier,” scoffed Ray.  “Give it a rest, will you?”

“What?” Xavier laughed, keeping his eyes on you.  “I mean it, though.  You’re like super fucking hot,” he said.

You averted your gaze, guilt swelling in your chest.  This was wrong.  You were married.  To a piece of shit asshole, after all.  Your marriage to him didn’t matter.  Especially now that you were so far away.  You didn’t have to feel guilty.  You didn’t have to feel like you were going to get in trouble.  No one here knew of your past, and they would never know as long as you never said anything.  

After a moment of thinking of what to say, you looked back up at Xavier with a smile.  

“You’re not too bad, yourself,” you said.  

Xavier let out a triumphant laugh, grinning.  “Sweet,” he breathed out, looking you up and down.  Montana slapped his arm and he leaned back where he sat, rolling his eyes at her.  “Can you not hit me again?  Please?  That kind of hurt.”

Chet cleared his throat as he looked at you.  You quickly turned to face him, hoping that he didn’t think it was wrong of you to say so.

“He’s definitely not lying,” Chet spoke.  “You’re super fucking pretty.  I, uh, don’t want you to settle on him just yet,” he grinned, leaning against his hand as his elbow rested against the couch.  

You couldn’t help from your own laugh escaping you.  “Don’t worry, Chet.  He’s not the only cute guy here,” you said, locking eyes with his.  You noticed his blush right off the bat, but you didn’t say anything about it.  

You were glad you were here.  This was good.  It would be good.  It had to be good.  But what you didn’t know was that your hopeful thoughts were far too good to be true.  

[universal-imagines]

I would love to see a scenario where Inosuke rescues you from demons. Love you ❤

☾ an odd fellow

fandom: demon slayerpairing: inosuke x readerword count: 1.9ksynopsis: [ above in ask ]

a/n: this was meant to be a short scenario and somehow i ended up 9 words short of 2k… but hope you guys enjoy it!! thank you for the request i really enjoyed writing it, especially the last part (੭ु˙꒳​˙)੭ु⁾⁾

please do not use any of my works, in any shape or form, without permission.

Every crunch of a leaf and whistle in the air made your heart race. You could feel every single pulse push against your chest and could hear the blood rushing through your body. You feared the demon could hear it too and could tell how exhausted you were. Even the palms of your hands were sweating. It made keeping a firm grip on your sword difficult. You wanted to loosen your grip just enough to let your hands dry a little, but that would give the demon an opening to attack. It was watching you like a hawk.

This wasn’t the first demon you had encountered, you’d fought countless of them before and just this night too, but there was something different about this one. Its strength wasn’t unmatched, even if it was stronger than most, but it was coupled with an unbelievable speed. In your current state, you were at a disadvantage. Before this one, you had fought off other demons from the area and had sustained several injuries. There was definitely a broken rib, possibly two, and a deep gash on your prominent leg that wouldn’t stop bleeding. Not only did it make it hard to breathe and walk, but you were also probably leaving a trail for the demon, so it was pointless to run or hide.

And yet you found yourself hiding behind a tree to catch your breath. The cover would only last for a few seconds, but you’d have to make do. With two deep breaths, that honestly did more harm than good, you pushed off from the tree and stood your ground. The cold air of the mountain pierced your lungs as if you’d swallowed needles instead of air. It caused your chest to tighten from discomfort, but you remained firm in your position. You weren’t about to back down from a demon, even if you were potentially bleeding out.

Admittedly things weren’t looking good for you at the moment. The pain you were fighting was almost unbearable, you could feel your mind clouding from concentrating on just keeping you on your feet. The thin air wasn’t helping either. You weren’t going to last much longer like this. If you weren’t killed by the demon, chances were you were still going to die from bleeding out anyway. Your only hope was to defeat the demon quickly so you could treat your wounds, but that was proving to be a rather difficult feat.

Glaring at the demon as it charged at you at full speed, all you could do was hope you were able to dodge its attack. Forget about attacking it yourself, the only goal was surviving. Unfortunately, you weren’t fast enough with your injured leg. While you didn’t get injured any further—just pushed back a few feet—you did lose your sword. The sudden impact knocked it out of your hands and sent it flying in the opposite direction. 

Cursing your selective luck, you ran as best you could for cover. You weren’t one to run, even when the situation seemed dire, but without a sword, you didn’t stand a chance. It didn’t matter how tough or brave you were, without a weapon, there was nothing you could do. Your only option was to run, even if it hurt your ego. No one knew of your whereabouts. You were supposed to be on route to a mission, but you got sidetracked when a bunch of demons appeared out of nowhere, so you were on your own.

You didn’t want to face the fact that you might actually die. This couldn’t possibly be how it all ended. Not like this. Not alone. Warm tears began to roll down your cheeks from despair. If only you had been stronger… faster… smarter…

As the dark thoughts began to take over your mind, you felt the tree you were leaning on get uprooted. You even saw it being thrown into the air as you fell onto your back. The small amount of air left in your lungs was knocked out of you, and you almost blacked out from the pain. This was really it… You were going to die at the hands of a demon. You couldn’t bring yourself to move anymore. Not only had you lost your will to fight, but you were in too much pain. You just wanted it to end…

It all happened in a split second. One moment you’re about to get clobbered by the demon, watching his hands coming down to you, and the next, you’re wincing in pain. But you’re two feet away from where you were, and the pain is only concentrated on your arm as if something hit you from the side. It took you a minute to realize you’d been kicked or shoved out of the way by someone. The realization got you to sit up, wincing an groaning, but you managed to look over at the demon and the person who had helped you.

To your surprise, in your previous spot stood a half man half boar looking thing. For a split second, you thought it might have been another demon just fighting to eat you, but his aura was definitely human. Besides, a demon wouldn’t have cared to shove you out of the way.

“Careful!” You could barely talk without your whole body aching, but you wanted to offer some help by warning him, at least. “Don’t let his size fool you, this demon is incredibly-” But you were cut off by the guy’s action. For the past hour, all you were doing was defending yourself, barely managing to stay alive, but this guy just went for the attack. There was obviously no plan or even thought behind it. Every slash of his swords was pure brute force. In an odd way, it was admirable, just not smart at all. One wrong move and you’re left vulnerable to a counter-attack.

While lost in thought, debating whether or not his approach could be considered a strategy, or if he even had one, you were met with a hard impact—a body. Alright… that definitely wasn’t a strategy.

You groaned in pain as you both scrambled to get up. “Are you that stubborn, or just stupid?” You huffed, holding onto your side with the broken ribs. “I tried warning you about his strength and speed, but you didn’t listen. You just charged at it like some wild animal! Have you no sense of self-preservation? Or regard for the safety of others? You shoved me out of the way like a sack of potatoes earlier…”

Straightening your uniform as best you could, you turned to him for a response, but he was already charging at the demon again.

“For the love of…” You grumbled a few more words before looking for your sword. You were in no condition to fight, but this idiot was going to get himself killed. You had to help. Quickly scanning the area with your eyes, you spotted it a few feet in front of you. It was away from the fight, in a clearing, so you assumed it was safe and ran over to it without a second thought. Thing is, you were wide open for an attack, and the demon took the chance. But once again, the guy with the boar mask protected you. He even managed to trap the demon’s arms with his swords. Nodding in gratitude, you reached for your sword and sliced the head of the demon clean off.

It wasn’t until it fully disintegrated that you were finally able to relax. A heavy sigh of relief left your body, releasing every tense muscle. Some pain began to come back now that the adrenaline was wearing off, but it actually felt good. You knew it was over.

“Woo! That was easy.”

A laugh that sounded more like a cackle filled the silence of the forest. If the shoulders of the guy with the mask weren’t bouncing, you might have thought the laugh belonged to a hidden demon.

You still stared at him in disbelief, maybe even glared a little. How could those be his first words?

“Are you serious? We both almost died!”

“You almost died. I had it trapped from the beginning.” You could hear the grin in his voice.

“Wha…” His response irritated you a bit, but you didn’t let his overconfidence get to you because the truth was he had saved you, twice. If it weren’t for him, you’d be dead for sure. “Being thrown ten feet into the air and landing on me didn’t seem like you had him trapped. But I do owe you my life… thank you.”

You couldn’t see his face through the mask, much less his expression, but his stance became more relaxed. The aura around him also changed. Just a few seconds ago, it matched that of a wild animal’s, but now it was bubbly and calm. There wasn’t really a way to prove your theory, but you were convinced that meant he was touched by your words.

“But can I ask you for one more favor?” You might as well take advantage of his good mood.

“Huh?”

“Well, I’m kind of bleeding out and need medical attention.” All you needed to do to prove your word was to gesture down at your blood-soaked uniform.

“I knew that! I had already noticed it and decided to help you down the mountain. But you were talking and distracting me.” Despite sounding annoyed with you, there was something kind about the way he spoke. 

“Right,” you nodded.

After securing his swords on his belt, he lowered himself in front of you. “Hurry up, get on!” He demanded.

“I appreciate the offer, but I think I should walk on my own. I just need some help so it doesn’t take me twice as long.“ 

“I am helping!” He sounded somewhat annoyed again.

“You are, but… here like this.” Pulling him up from his crouching position, you wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “See. you don’t have to carry me to help.” You weren’t sure if he could even see you, but you smiled.

Again you felt his aura change and heard a faint hum of realization. If you weren’t so close you wouldn’t have heard it, the mask would have muffled it.

“So…” You broke the silence after a few minutes. “Do I get a name?”

“Don’t you have one already?”

You would have laughed if it weren’t for the pain in your chest. Instead, you just shook your head, a grin on your face.

“Yes, I do. But I meant your name. As in, do I get to know the name of the person who saved me?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“So I can thank you properly.”

“Hashibira Inosuke.” He didn’t say anything else for a couple of minutes. “I’m only telling you so that you know the name of the person who defeated the demon for you.”

“Actually I think we did that together, but I’m willing to give you all the credit, cause I wasn’t in tip-top shape.” You hid your grin by looking off to the side.

“Ha?” He almost let you go to turn to glare at you, or so you assumed. 

“I mean, I did cut off his head, didn’t I?”

He only grumbled in response.

“Thank you for saving my life, Inosuke.”

This time he did let you go, causing you to stumble a little when he stopped abruptly.

“Stop doing that!”

You were confused. “Doing what?”

“Stop making me feel all giddy!” He was fuming.

“Oh,” you chuckled. “Sorry.”

“I will only forgive you if you fight me once you’re healed.”

“Done.” You extended your hand out for a shake. “I’m already looking forward to that day.”

“Stop!”

You didn’t end up shaking on it, but you had a good laugh and knew he wouldn’t miss the fight because he was looking forward to it too.

please do not use any of my works, in any shape or form, without permission.

[cloveroctobers]

NOAH SAMPATH —

IG info/bio: @/noahknowspat | 275k followers | “A True Renaissance-Man.” | (currently his page is on private, which he often does several months out of the year

25 (26) years of age

Born & raised in Kandy, Sri Lanka until his mother decided to uproot him & his sibs to the uk leaving his father behind

Both of his parents are from Nuwara Eliya

His parents decided it would be best for just his wife & children to live elsewhere while he continued his work in hotel & tourism

Which to him, is the best job he’s ever had—in a sense it felt like he loved his job a little more than his family but Noah knew that wasn’t completely true

Noah figured there was something secretly going on between his parents, he noticed how they would argue more over the years & how his father was fond of their homeland while his mother was not

She did not have much family left, most either leaving the country or dying from sickness

He’s used to living in a bungalow since that’s what he grew up in

Moved to Romford which didn’t take long for him to get adjusted to, he was quick to adapt to situations since that’s normally expected of him as the eldest...

Lived with an aunt? Who really wasn’t a aunt in a cramped 2 bedroom apartment with a child of her own (who was around Noah’s age and favored Richa Moorjani) for a couple of years

Has two younger sibs: a 17 year old brother, and a 11 year old sister

His mother was m*rdered just before his 18th birthday, therefore he’s grown not to celebrate his birthdays even tho he knows deep down that’s not how his mother would have wanted him to go on

She was wise and often stayed up with the moon having conversations with her eldest—if not with all her children

but as he looked back on their conversations he could tell that his mother knew she wouldn’t be on this earth for long

Which showed him a different way of living

His father hated Romford, didn’t think it was the best/ safest place ( I did some research and mostly saw that this town is kinda rough. Anybody from the uk reading & have experience with the town please confirm? Not attending to offend anyone plus every place has its rough areas) for his family & felt his point was proven once his wife was k*lled

He demanded for his children to come back home but Noah wasn’t having it once he realized his father had changed & became aggressive himself

He hated confrontation but he was of age now so he could do what he wanted but there was no bloody way his sibs were going back with this man

He was not the man they all once knew—shit, his sibs BARELY knew him

So Noah fought a lengthy battle with guardianship over his siblings

It only became easy once money was involved for the man to back off

It was v difficult to manage a household and two children at 18-19 all on his own but he was willing to do it, he felt like it was part of his purpose

Plus his “auntie” & “cousin” came around quite often which helped somewhat & even tho the woman was gritty in how she carried herself, anyone could see she cared for Noah’s mother & her children otherwise she wouldn’t have been around before & after his mother’s death

She became like a second mum but no one would ever replace his mother

It was tough going through his early twenties...he had became a parent figure instead of going to uni to study archaeology

He loved fossils & dinosaurs as a kid 

probably keeps up to date with any articles or shows that share their findings on prehistoric species in water or land (I find that shit so creepy yet interesting until I get too creeped out and leave lmao? especially dealing with the ocean!)

Enjoyed that American show called “siren”

He didn’t enjoy much of what usual twenty-something year olds would, he had to be home to take care of his siblings they became a major part of his life now

He is the type to bottle up his feelings. Ofc he jumped at the chance to raise his sibs without a question after seeing the state of his dad a week after his mum’s funeral but he knew he HAD feelings

He wasn’t a robot just because he tends to be quiet & observant

He had his low days too

But he would hide them in books, that was his safe haven, his escape

He loved working as a librarian even if he got shitted on for it

It never payed much even in his position but it brought him comfort that there were aisles of novels ready to tell him stories & found some relation to his own life

As if that wasn’t enough, he loved going to book shops as well. If he had enough $ leftover he would treat himself in a new book purchase

Will buy a new book even if he has piles of unread ones, which he does have a section of that in his room & in the corner of the living room

Has a kindle since it was the cheapest & can easily slip it into a bag if he can’t decide on what book to bring with him

Has glasses but prefers contacts, ‘i don’t want someone to think I’m that nerdy since I read out in public.’ He often thinks to himself—yet when he’s immerse in those pages the world goes silent around him

Collects vinyl toy figures and keeps them either on his mantle or built in shelves in his room

Loves coconut water & won’t drink any water unless it’s coconut

Got his gorgeous cheekbones from his dad

His father p*ssed during his 23rd year of life due to tsunami hitting the hotel he worked in

He took his sibs to their native land once it was safe and connected with their father’s side, which was bittersweet

I think I get Scorpio energy from noah? Idk but it’s in there somewhere

He likes cutting his food into smaller pieces no matter what it is, it’s just a habit since he did so for his younger sibs

Secretly it’s also easier for him since he feels like the dentist ruined one of his nerves once he got his wisdom teeth out

He hates the dentist

His baby sis is deaf & he absolutely took the time to learn sign language along with his brother

Chose buying her hearing aids over paying a monthly bill when $ got tight

His 17 year old brother now works a job & helps out the best way he can even if it took a bit of persuading from their cousin

They’re all extremely close and are aware what Noah’s done and continues to do for them

Probably enjoys painting even if he’s not the greatest at it, but there’s something about water color that is pleasing to his eyes

He’s had many jobs to keep food on the table and support his family but being a custodian paid him the most yet he couldn’t continue working overtime not when his sibs were as young as they once were. He had to let the job go, the money was great, his co-workers sucked since they never came to work leaving him with OT, but it was also a lot of gross work & the teenage girls were always hitting on him

Prone to taking on more than he can chew whether it’s in relationships or life situations

Has either one or two best friends outside of the villa & they’ve been tight since junior year

They didn’t approve of Noah stepping forward to take care of his sibs, knowing it would be a big responsibility & possibly put his life on hold

But they didn’t understand & came around to once they saw him in action & became supportive/proud

He knows they mean well?

Cannot dance

Owns a couple of blazers that he feels the most comfy in

Loves a good pin-striped dress shirt

Has soft thin wavy hair

Will sport a 5’oclock shadow if he’s stressed out, tired, or wants to show a more “mature” side of himself

Misses his mum’s Lamprais & kottu roti

He’s 5’11

Had 1-2 gfs before the villa & both of them were super lengthy relationships which there’s obviously nothing wrong with

Always trying to make it work even if there are signs of it failing

Is not the dominant one in relationships & usually wants to keep the peace—which falls back on him taking everything on his plate & bottling them up instead of addressing situations from the jump

Is observant but also likes to assume?

Tries to be honest & loyal

Once he’s in a relationship & it’s confirmed from the other, he is completely devoted & smitten

I think quality time is his love language

I also think he tried to play the violin growing up since he found that to be one of the instruments that holds so much passion

Likes period pieces minsus the racism :)

Has read Frankenstein countless of times over Shakespeare, he’s got good work, yeah? but it’s a bit overrated

Keeps in touch with rahim & feels he understands him on a level his mates of years do not

They go holiday together when Noah feels he can afford it, even if rahim says he can pay for it. It’s not a big deal

Yet it is. He feels insecure when someone feels like he can’t do something because of where he’s from & what he does for a living. It showed more in his relationship with hope

Sure she was constantly paying for things but when he silently took the initiative to do so it was automatically assume that he didn’t have it even with his wallet out to pay

There were plenty of flaws in his relationship with hope and it took forever for him to see the toxicity in it even if fans adored them together

I’ve decided that they won’t be endgame. Which breaks everyone’s hearts after he’s the one to surprisingly call it quits after 3 years. He thought it would get better once he realized they way the acted towards each other was not completely heathly but it got worse

So he did what he had to do with what was in the best interest of everyone & hope did not agree

It was heated, it was emotional, and there was a last moment of intimacy to seal the deal of their goodbyes

Then came the drama online, with interviews and people trying to bring Priya into the mix & Hope was always vocal so it became a bigger issue

Noah just wanted to heal on his own but he was never going to engage in the drama. If they were all back in the villa face to face he might have said something but he didn’t need his words twisted so he rose above it and knew the two would eventually along with the fans

To get over the breakup? He hung out a little later with his mates at CLUBS, visited rahim, spent more time with his sibs, read, and...reached out to...BLAKE

After almost two years with whoever (in my case it was henrik) she was freshly single herself & not really looking but knew Noah was trying to get underneath someone. A rebound? Since he couldn’t bring himself to do so with the girls around home

Blake knew what happened with hope. She along with mc & some fans saw it coming. She thought about it, really thought about it but decided that she wouldn’t be Noah’s rebound. She knew Noah just needed time and when he was ready, maybe she’d be around

Celeb crush: Gillian Anderson, Antonia Thomas, Tika Sumpter, Aja-Naomi King, Normani Kordei, & Sophie Turner

Who does Noah listen to? Hozier maybe? KWABS, Grace Carter, Seinabo Sey, Stevie Wonder, Michael Jackson, Half Moon Run, Aisha Badru, Lianne La Havas, Dana Williams, Allan Rayman, Rationale, etc...

Anthem = Sid Sriram, “It isn’t true”

[dabblinginmarvel]

Five Years Since

DabblingInMarvel Short Imagine #322

Request: First I want to say that your fics are wonderful. And I want to request a fic where Steve Rogers is dating the reader and the last she knows is that they're on the run but he lost her (endgame) and they meet five years later

Plot: Steve lost the reader during the Snap while they’re still on the run, and they meet again five years later.

Blog Tag: @chandelle13​

A/N: I’m so sorry it’s been so long. I hope this is still welcome.

Warnings: None

Word Count Total: 768

Short Imagine #322

Title: Five Years Since

It had been five years since the Snap. Five years since he had seen you, or Sam, or Bucky. He had run inside the Wakandan palace with the permission of the remaining Dora Milaje a few minutes after he caught his breath and found that Shuri had vanished, and so had you. There were piles of dust in the lab, but no one there. He collapsed on his knees again and began to sob. His hand landed on something small and hard and he picked it up. It was your necklace. You had left it behind.

He had picked it up in his fist gently and brought his fist to his heart. He could still have you with him even if you were gone.

First he had to watch Sam and Bucky go, but he couldn’t even see you before you vanished?

As he looked at the necklace now in his hand after hosting another Snap Survivor Session. What a fool he was, such a hypocrite. Here he was counseling people how to move past the survivor’s guilt and he was doing no such thing.

- - -

It had been five years since he had last seen you. He had nothing else to lose; but the rest of the world did. You did. And so did Tony. They had to make it out of this. They had to succeed. Everyone depended on it.

When Sam’s voice came through his earpiece, the loss he felt started to fill and only finished when he saw you walk through one of the portals side-by-side with Bucky. Tears sprang to his eyes, but he had to push them back. No reason to get distracted, now.

There was no reason to expect Tony to be okay with everyone who had opposed the Sokovia Accords, but when Steve saw him deflect an attack coming from behind you, he smiled. Maybe they would all be okay.

He decided later that he had counted his eggs before they hatched. He hadn’t even been able to say goodbye to Tony. He knelt in solidarity with the true hero, then felt something slip into his hand. He looked up and saw you kneeling at his side. The weight in his had felt both foreign and familiar. But it wasn’t the time to celebrate, so he squeezed your hand instead.

- - -

It had been five years since you had been by his side, and now you were back. You, Sam, and Bucky. And now he was leaving. Everyone expected it of him because he almost ran into Peggy. But only he knew he was returning. There was absolutely no reason for him to stay in the past. The present was unfamiliar to him, but the past was a completely other dimension, and he didn’t belong there.

Sneaking through the base to return the Space Stone was a difficult task, but he was successful. Only one instance did he almost get caught when he checked out Peggy’s office again. There was no reason to uproot her life and spin it on its head. She was going to have her own family, and it was time to return to his.

The shock in Bucky’s eyes when Steve returned was near palpable, but the joy in yours meant everything to him. He dropped the shield on the ground and ran up to you, spinning you in a circle and lifting you off your feet, the love in his heart making his heart swell. Your lips met and he held you tighter before releasing you.

“I think I owe you something.” He pulled the necklace from his pocket. “May I?”

You grinned and turned around, allowing him to put your necklace back on you.

Bucky waited a moment before speaking. “I thought you were going to stay back there.”

“I realized I have more here than I have in the past.” Steve wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed a kiss to your head. “But I do have one more thing I have to do.”

He bent over and picked up the shield. Bucky met his eye and nodded subtly. “Sam, it’s time for me to retire from being the Captain. The world doesn’t need me as the Captain anymore, but they need you. As the world changes, we have to change with it. You’re what they need.”

Sam gingerly took the shield and Steve turned back to you and pulled you into his arms again. “It’s you and me, now. We’re free to build our own futures. Will you build it with me?”

You smiled back. “I will.”

 - - -

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