#they’re not going to CONSULT him on how they care for their heir

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

i see you are a fan of megumi angst. as you should. i love my son ofc. i was there when gojo pushed that sea urchin out of his womb. i tried (& failed) to hold gojo back from blasting a hollow purple at everyone when they wanted to hold megumi. bro would not let him go. BUT. i love seeing my favs suffer.

SO — the zenin having more of an involvement with megumi? the higher ups fucking up megumi life without even lifting a finger or like talking to megs? GOJO putting his trust in yaga only to get fucked sideways by the fates themselves & starting a whole rebellion? YUUTA & MEGUMI MEETING RIGHT AFTER SATOSUGU divorce causing problems for the students? yeah. this is my jujutsu kaisen. gege could never compare to you.

i do have a few questions though like who tf was tsumiki texting & calling? how is kamo so down bad for megumi that even gojo cringes a little when he brings him up? is yuuta whole obsession thing be linked to rika coming back? MAKI. will we get to see maki & megumi bitching about naoya ?

but a more serious question is: why would the zenin fuck around & traumatize the adopted kid of the strongest, the ten shadows user, when they know it will come with consequences? do they think that there higher ups will put a leash on gojo or some shit like when they was younger? or did they do this out of some sick way of showing their care for megumi bc like they’re trying to show him that gojo is making him weak (which is so not true idc) & they decided to push his limits to showcase his weakness? like as a big fuck you to gojo & an eye opener to megumi?

Tsumiki Calling & Texting:

You'll see.

Kamo:

it's basically canon to me that he is. Kamo was straight up trying to have this big climactic confession with Megumi where he bared his heart and soul and told them they were the same and should find allies in the other and megumi was like "the hell we are" and had to say it twice so he would have no doubt. meanwhile his internal monologue was "why the hell is this guy acting like we're friends or something" megumi you have canonically known him for three years now. he's baring his soul to you. oh my god he wants to be your friend.

in actuality, Kamo is very lonely and isolated in his clan and sees Megumi as, canonically, the same as him. They were both born outside of their clan. Both clans brought them in (or tried to in the Zenin's case) because of their inherited techniques. they both have family that doesn't fit in with the rest of their clan. Kamo is constantly pressured to perform as the perfect heir and sees megumi as the only person in the world who has a chance of understanding him.

Yuuta:

No it's something else.

Maki & Megumi:

You'll see.

The Zenin:

Honestly it was a huge amount of entitlement and the fact that they just were not at all smart and never actually thought they'd face consequences for their actions.

First off, they never thought of Gojo as Megumi's adoptive father who loved him. They were the ones who loved Megumi. Gojo did this as a power play, and to keep the Ten Shadows from reaching his full potential. In their mind, he never loved Megumi as his son and didn't warrant the same levels of concern. They weren't going to exactly erect a billboard about his mistreatment, but they weren't all that worried either. They didn't think Gojo would do what he did and cut them off completely--they were more worried with Gojo trying to use it to make them lose leverage when they were getting a better custody deal. It was absolutely obvious to them that gojo was not doing this out of love and didn't actually care what happened to megumi.

They also didn't personally view what they were doing to megumi as abuse.

Most of the time that they beat him, it was during "training," which he did for a ludicrous amount of time during the day. He needed to be trained in combat. In zenin training, that includes feeling the pain of the blow according to Maki. He needed to learn how to handle pain. that meant hitting him for real.

Except his training was run by an insecure psychopath obsessed with his dead dad and a revolving cast of lunatics obsessed with megumi's progress because that was meant to herald the return of the zenin clan to its former glory. they went way too far way too many times.

The rest was just what Naoya called Zenin-typical discipline, but dialed up because he's fucking crazy. Like. The Zenin weren't strangers to corporal punishment, but naoya always liked hitting megumi. he looked for excuses to do it.

It's the Zenin way, at the end of the day. They all went through the same and turned out just fine. And they wanted Megumi to be raised Zenin.

They also just didn't think of him as, you know. a person.

He was their hopes and dreams personified. They'd waited centuries for him to return to them. Only for him to be tainted by their greatest enemy and taken from them.

So much of Megumi wasn't real to them. It was all just--Gojo's corruption and mockery. Wanting to wear his own clothes? spiting their traditional dress with the ways of the non-jujutsu world. Obviously Gojo's doing. Wanting to be called his own name? It's an honor to be the ten shadows. They waited five hundred years for him. Gojo would not be allowed to diminish that.

The entire clan was not aware that Megumi was being beaten. Only a very, very select few were given time with him, and they usually hit him behind closed doors. Which is what Maki remembers--she can't remember why, but she felt bad for him, and it was hard to figure out why, because he was the ten shadows and was supposed to be beloved. And then she realized that it was because he never had any time to play. And she always saw him being lugged unconscious from the training room.

She didn't see the bits leading up to it. how bad it got. she only got a glimpse, that most of the clan was more than happy to explain away. the ten shadows was training to grow strong for them, after all.

The people abusing him were entitled assholes who just thought they were above consequences. There's an old world mindset around kids in the jujutsu world--they're basically the property of their clan. There's no CPS. No one's doing a wellness check here. They normally would have been allowed to do whatever the fuck they wanted to megumi with impunity--the fact that Gojo's breathing down their neck is a slap in the face and a continued humiliation. They weren't going to add insult to injury and just. tiptoe around how they trained their ten shadows in the privacy of their own compound based on what gojo satoru might think. Megumi would be raised as Zenin are raised when they had him, and Gojo satoru wouldn't have a say in it.

Of course, this was a classic case of fuck around and find out. They didn't think gojo would care; they were wrong and he cut them off from megumi entirely. They never once thought about megumi's autonomous desires and boundaries; now they are cut off permanently from him. They were stupid and felt entitled to do with Megumi as they pleased, and they lost him as a result.

[sad-scarred-sassy]

Also there was no option to abort the baby and she couldn’t shift bc of the baby. Feyre herself made that choice so what are you even rambling about?

😐

I’m not even gonna respond to the other anon because I honestly don’t care how long he hid it from her, it was definitely more than a few hours it was at least 2-3 weeks (theres no definite timeline) and we also don’t know exactly when he found out about it, so my point stands. He wouldn’t have told her if Nesta hadn’t told her, so it wasn’t even him who took that step and righted it.

The fact that she “chose” to keep the baby doesn’t mean she shouldn’t have been asked first when there was time to analyze the possibilities. And of course we don’t know if there is a way to abort the baby since Rhysand never even considered that option. What was stated though was that she could have shifted herself to her Illyrian form, but it could hurt the BABE, so they scratched that.

He chose to not tell her, she had like a 90% possibility (or more I can’t remember) of dying in childbirth.

If she shifted herself there is no statement that it would hurt HER, only the baby. See where I’m going?

I know this is a poor plot by SJM (once again) but the fact is she made Rhys choose the baby over her, over them (apparently the small chance of getting an Heir was more important than them dying and leaving the court to whoever) without consulting her and he would have kept the secret if it wasn’t for Nesta. Its easy to assume Feyre would have probably gone to her death, without knowing, thinking she would be a part of this baby’s life.

The “Rhys didn’t want to stress her” is also a horrible justification since thats part of the reason why Tamlin is so hated, because he kept Feyre away from things he thought she wasn’t able to handle, at least he didn’t hide vital health information from her. Let me say more, the way Tamlin is written, he would have shifted her himself probably without a doubt (still bad if he took the Rhys route and didn’t consult before shifting her) but at least with her in mind. HER safety. And this is my whole point. This debate is aimless because they both abused her, but saying Tamlin’s actions are worse and deserve condemnation while Rhysand’s actions are justifiable is laughable. No. They’re objectively worse.

Imagine your own “soulmate” chooses an unborn child before you, without your input? At least the other always chose her safety in every freaking decision he took. Cant say the same for Rhysand.

I won’t quit yapping about this in my blog, if you don’t like it, then leave.

[thermodynamic-comedian]

I’m screaming and rolling on the ground about nihil being pressured to have kids thing cuz like “YES, YOU GET IT”. My man had probably kids before he was going through his rockstar high (they pressured him to have at least one kid very quickly so they wouldn’t have to deal with a ‘no heir’ situation again) so by the time he did and was done his kids were probably in their tweens to early adulthood (I like to think primo isn’t actually much older then his brothers he just acts very old for his age lol) and since nihil wasn’t there/was a very bad and absent father for their childhood and so now he doesn’t know how to interact with them and they want nothing to do with him.

He loves his kids but he doesn’t know how to approach them at all and it makes him bitter as all hell towards everyone because he just sees so much of himself in his boys (especially Terzo) and wishes he could’ve been better or his sons would allow him to try and be a father. The only person he would feel comfortable enough consulting is probably sister but she’s gone and doesn’t want to get close to him so he doesn’t think they might get back together.

We only see a glimpse into the lives of sister and nihil and it annoys me when everyone seems to make them both villains because it’s more compelling to me when they’re good and kind people who do bad things or are morally ambiguous people who do what is needed even if it hurts them. That’s not to say I don’t think sister didn’t manipulate nihil at least a little bit to convince him to kill his sons but I think sister did that because in her mind she was putting their son in the spotlight like he should’ve been instead of some cardinal people looks down on.

Ahhfjebhsshd it’s just the angst for nihil coming to terms with what he agreed to and that he killed his little boys and can’t bring them back even if they didn’t like him and him waking up and crying in his bed because he has no one to grieve with and sister doesn’t really care all too much because her darling cardinal is on the throne now and he can’t understand why she doesn’t care about these people she’s assisted for years while they took over the papacy and watched them grow up for the most part and made sure they didn’t get themselves killed (she is grieving in her own way but saw it as a necessary evil). I also think Sestorrrr does still love nihil and that’s why she prioritized copia over the boys so much more because she saw him as a product of their love and not something church mandated and they would’ve been a happy family if he didn’t cheat on her. I also think she raised him as an adopted orphan because if he was raised as a child of the bloodline she would’ve been subjected to much more pressure to preform and would not be allowed to relax and truly be a child as much as other kids in the abby

sorry for going on a rant but these two evil bastards are so much fun to talk about when they’re morally grey and conflicted. I don’t hate when people make them purely evil (because hey, conflict in a story is nice) but there’s just so much to explore with these people ya know.

YES EXACTLY!!!!! ANON WE ARE SHAKING HANDS.

im so glad im not the only one really into psycho-analyzing these two freaks specifically, so many of my era 0 fics are just character studies on them-

and the absolute angst potential of nihil being forced to have kids destroys me. like. yeah no shit, of course he's gonna feel conflicted about those kids!! he didn't want to have them!! to him, they're a direct representation of the power the clergy has over his entire life!!!!! his life is not his own, and his family is not his own.

[isoldmysoultojonahclemence]

Clemence Father

JONAH’S ROUTE JUST CAME OUT ON IKEREV TW AND I’M ON PART 12 AND I RLLY WANNA CAUSE SERIOUS BODILY HARM TO JONAH AND LUKA’S FATHER RN. I TALKED ABOUT HIM BEFORE ON LUKA’S EVER AFTER POST HERE BUT NOW IMMA TALK ABOUT IT AGAIN BC BELIEVE IT OR NOT, HE’S AN EVEN BIGGER ASSHOLE IN JONAH’S ROUTE.

BUT ANYWAYS HERE’S WHAT HAPPENED.

SPOILERS FOR JONAH’S EVER AFTER UNDER THE CUT

(ps the screenshots all have that orange recording button bc i want to look at them without having to go through the entire route again. sorry if they’re kinda annoying!)

Aight, so Jonah proposed to MC (well, he kinda just announced that MC is his fiancee from now on but whatever), and he decided to bring her to the Clemence house for this party to meet the family. Luka was there as well, standing in a corner. MC kinda wanted to join him in the corner as well, but Jonah dragged her off to meet his relatives. But they all seemed to dislike MC because she’s not from a good background.

Then, this dude enters the scene:

[Translation:

A dignified-looking man walked over here, looking at me, who is standing by Jonah, in surprise.]

And then, when Jonah goes to introduce MC as his fiancee, his father cuts him off by saying that he never heard of Jonah having a fiancee before. Like, Jonah was in the middle of a super serious and sincere introduction and his father just interrupted like that in a super cold voice. I was already starting to dislike him at this point, but I didn’t wanna fight him just yet.

Also, here’s something that kinda surprised me:

[Translation:

(His looks seemed to be similar to Luka’s, but his disposition...

(It seemed to be 50 times scarier than Jonah when I first met him...)]

I found it kinda weird how Luka actually took after him in terms of looks more than Jonah did??? Like, my original headcanon was that Luka didn’t actually look very similar to his father, which could be part of why he was ignored so much, but I guess he was ignored even when he looks like his father. Ouch.

Also, whenever the Clemence father makes an appearance, the thing that MC talks about the most is how scary/stern his disposition is. He must be someone really ruthless to warrant that kind of description.

After that, his father goes on to guess that Jonah had made the decision to bring MC without consulting anyone in his family because he knew that his decision would be opposed. I suppose that Jonah’s father does know him quite well, but it actually unsettles me more, because he seems to have no regard for the effect he has on his sons. Like, Jonah literally had to fight to keep his head up under such pressure.

So Jonah goes on to explain why he chose not to tell anyone about it, but his father interrupts him AGAIN with this huge speech about how the Clemence bloodline cannot be mixed with a bloodline of unknown origins. They have kept his tradition for hundreds of years, and that every single heir has accepted this fact and chose to marry someone of high social standing. 

Jonah, naturally, was pretty angry, and told his father that he has gone too far. But guess what? This dude ignores him YET AGAIN and tries to convince MC to marry Levie instead of Jonah. Seriously. No wonder Jonah never listens to anyone else if this was the role model he had. I’m really starting to grit my teeth at this point.

Also, something concerning is how Jonah’s father knew that Levie is after MC, since that was classified information. Jonah confronts him about him, but he brushes it off by saying that he was the former Queen of Hearts and he has all the information sources he need. I wonder how powerful he was when he was Queen if he was still so influential in his retirement. And yeah, he totally strikes me as the sort of guy who would order Claudius to assassinate people...

But anyways, Jonah’s father tells him that he’ll pretend as if he heard nothing and walks off, even though Jonah tried to tell him that he wasn’t finished yet. What a guy.

Jonah leaves MC with Luka and goes after his father. Luka takes MC to his room and tells her something really sweet. He tells her that to trust “that guy” (Jonah) and to wait for him, which really showed his reliance on his older brother. Like, even though he rejects Jonah a lot and avoids him, deep down inside he still believes in Jonah. 

And after a few parts we get a flashback where Jonah recalls the conversation he had with his father after he goes after him, and this is where my blood starts boiling.

So the Clemence father reminds Jonah, in a pretty harsh way, that when he had rejected marriage alliances in the past, he has always said that he’ll find someone better. He then goes on to call MC “that kind of person” (as in, a person of low birth and social standing), and Jonah gets pretty mad at him for that:

[Translation:

Jonah: Even if you’re my father, I cannot allow you to call her “that kind of person”...!

Clemence Patriarch: Don’t change the topic!

Hearing his father’s roar of fury, Jonah wasn’t scared in the slightest, and instead glared fierily back at him.]

I find it kinda interesting how the game refers to Jonah and Luka’s father as “the Clemence Patriarch” instead of “Clemence Father” or something. That would probably make more sense, because the term “Patriarch” can refer to a grandfather, an uncle, a cousin, etc., not necessarily a father. But I guess this highlights how his identity as a patriarch is prioritized before his identity as a father.

And then this scene happens:

[Translation:

Clemence Patriarch: Whatever you say! There is nothing more to say, get out. 

Clemence Patriarch: In order to prevent the failure of the first, we still have a second.

Clemence Patriarch: I will disown you as my son, and make Luka the heir of the family, and then he’ll be the one to marry a high-born noble lady.]

DUDE WTFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

IT DOESN’T WORK LIKE THAT??????????? YOU CAN’T JUST DECIDE THAT YOUR SON IS A FAILURE WHEN HE DOES ONE (1) THING AGAINST YOUR WILL AND TOSS HIM OUT AND MAKE YOUR OTHER SON THE HEIR???????????????????

Honestly he makes Jonah and Luka sound so expendable, and that’s really not okay. They’re human beings, his own SONS, not an object to be thrown away when it served its use. Like, if I had any doubts about why Luka left his family before, this scene just explained everything. Who would want this guy as their parent????? 

And of course, as the best nii-sama in the world, Jonah caves.

[Translation:

Even though he wanted to follow through with his own ideals, he couldn’t let his important brother, Luka, be sacrificed.

Not only would Luka have to bear the burden as the heir, a burden that he has been bearing for many years, 

And he would marry some lady who he has never met before, this absolutely cannot happen!

Jonah: Just this one thing...please don’t do it.

Jonah could only bend to his father’s will.]

JONAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MY POOR BBY LET ME GIVE YOU A HUG (っ˘̩╭╮˘̩)っ

He’s literally in an impossible position right now. If he wants to marry the love of his life, he would have a sacrifice his precious brother, and if he wants to protect his brother, he would have to sacrifice his fiancee. If he wants to keep them both safe, then the only real solution would be to leave the Clemence family.

Come on, Cybird. Y’all made him turn against the Red Army in his original route and now you’re making him turn against his family now??? When will the torture for Jonah and his stans ever end??????????

And here’s a few other lines from the Clemence Patriarch to disgust you:

[Translation:

Clemence Patriach: I am a generous and maganimous person.

Clemence Patriach: As long as the Clemence bloodline is protected, I don’t care if the heir is you or Luka.]

......I literally have nothing else to say.

Istg this dude is the worst parent in the Red Army, and the Red Army is already brimming with awful parenting skills. Lancelot’s father pretty much neglected him and Edgar’s uncle straight-up abused him, but you could still tell that they cared about their sons in their own little twisted ways. Lancelot’s father eqipped him with all the skills he would need to be King, and Claudius took all responsibility for the Bright family business in the end, protecting Edgar. And then we have the Clemence father who’s all like: i MaDE TwO kIDS foR a reASoN anD ThAt iS To HAVE ONE OF THEM REPLACE THE OTHER/USING ONE OF THEM TO THREATEN THE OTHER IF THEY MESS UP. ALSO NEITHER OF THEM MATTERS APPARENTLY BC THEY’RE BOTH JUST TOOLS FOR CARRYING ON THE BLOODLINE.

DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDE.

I get that this is only part 12 and he’s probably going to have a redemption scene or at least some whitewashing at the end, but STILL. I really, really, really, really, really don’t like Jonah and Luka’s father.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love and Medicine ~ 12

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,815ish

Summary: You are still trying to cope with the fact that Steve’s married. (Read note at the end of the chapter.)

I do not own Grey’s Anatomy or Marvel.

You and Natasha eventually found your way back to your house and into your bedroom’s adjoining bathroom. Natasha was in the bathtub as you laid on the floor.

“It's not us. It's them,” you said. “Them and their stupid boy penises. They didn't tell me they had a wife. They gave absolutely no warning that they were going to break up with you.”

“It's not that Banner broke up with me,” Natasha began. “It's how he broke up with me. Like it was business. Like it was a business transition like he's the boss of me!”

“He is the boss of you.”

“And what's worse is that I care.”

"I'm gonna throw up again.” You moved so that you were leaned over the toilet bowl. "No. Wait. False alarm.”

“Look, the problem is estrogen.”

“No, the problem is tequila.”

“I used to be all business, and then he goes and gets me pregnant.”

“With the stupid boy penis.”

“Now, I'm having hormone surges. He ruined me. I'm ruined. He turned me into this fat, stupid, pregnant girl. Who cares! Estrogen!”

Having heard the commotion from your bathroom, Val, Scott, and Clint found themselves standing in the doorway.

“Penises,” you stated. “Penises Val.”

“Estrogen, Scott. Estrogen,” Nat added.

“Okay…” Scott said, looking around. “What did I miss?”

“I came home to full on vomit drama,” Val explained. “Apparently she dumped Derek and her—“ Val pointed Nat’s way. “She’s been sleeping with Banner!”

“What?”

“So you really broke up with Rogers?” Clint asked.

“I feel empty,” you responded.

“Two hours of vomiting will do that to you,” Val said with a shrug.

“You’re lucky,” Nat added. “I feel pissed off.”

~~~

Arriving in the parking garage, you could clearly see Steve waiting for you. Getting out of your car, you slammed the door as he came closer.

“Stop,” you growled at him.

“What?” Steve questioned, pretending to be all innocent.

“You're stalking me. Stop it.” You continued into the building with Steve following you.

“Did we not communicate last night?”

“Yes.”

“Did you hear what I was saying?”

“Your wife screwed your best friend.”

“And then from that point on she no longer existed to me anymore.”

“You had marital amnesia?”

“No.” Steve reached out and grabbed your arm, successfully stopping you. “Come on I bared my soul to you last night.”

“It's not enough.”

“How can that be not enough?”

“When you waited 2 months to tell me and I had to find out by her showing up, all leggy and fabulous and telling me herself, you pulled the plug. I'm a sink with an open drain. Anything that you say runs right out. There is no enough.” You pulled away hurrying inside with your friends after you.

“She probably could've picked a better metaphor,” Clint commented.

“Give her a break,” Scott said. “She’s got a hangover.”

With a huff, Steve followed. Tony, who was also coming in, quickly caught up to him.

“Dr. Rogers!” He called.

“Dr. Stark,” Steve replied.

“We have an organ donor coming in this afternoon. We're doing a harvest.”

“Commendable, but—“

“In OR one at four.”

“I’m in OR one at four.”

“Your surgery is non-critical.”

“You can’t bump me!”

“As Chief, I can. You’ll be first up tomorrow.”

“Interim Chief. Bump somebody else!”

“You’re in the OR we need.”

“Why can’t the harvest be done somewhere else?”

“Cause the donor’s coming in from a small facility. We have the location, the airport nearby and the staff. Your surgery is rescheduled.” Then Tony turned, heading away.

“I’m not done talking about this, Stark!”

“Well, I am! See ya around Rogers!”

~~~

Rounds weren’t too bad, especially because you successfully ignored both Peggy and Steve. It even became slightly better when Gamora called you in for a bowel obstruction. Except the guy wouldn’t tell you what he ingested.

“You know, Mr. Sanders, it would be easier if you just told us what you ingested,” you pried, taking him to radiology. “We’ll know anyone, once we see the films.”

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Mr. Sanders responded.

“Mr. Sanders, whatever you’ve ingested could kill you. Are you sure you don’t just want to tell me?”

“It might offend you.”

“It might? Is it drugs?”

“No.”

“Mr. Sanders.”

“It’s not drugs, I promise.”

“Well, good, I’m glad.”

“I… Nope, not going to tell you.”

“Fine by me. We just reached radiology, so I’m going to find out anyway.”

It wasn’t long before Mr. Sanders was back in his room and the radiologist had found you with the scans.

“It’s drugs,” the radiologist stated handing the scans over to you. “Looks like at least 13 small balloons in the bowel. My guess, cocaine.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, holding up the scans up to the light. 

They didn’t totally look like balloons, so you weren’t completely convinced. Before you made any judgement calls, you found Gamora.

“It’s drugs,” you told her, handing her the scans. 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she muttered, placing the scans onto a screen. “One burst and he’s dead in minutes. Okay, what do we do?”

“Run his bowel.”

“And what does that mean?”

“Running the bowel entails removing all 36 feet of the intestine from the body cavity, hand searching for the balloons and then cutting them out.”

“Good. Book an OR and get two other interns on board, need all the hands we can get.”

“Dr. Gamora,” Y/N called as Gamora tired to leave. 

“Yes?”

“Are you sure they’re balloons?”

“You have reason to believe they’re not?”

“Well, the more I look the more I realize that this one,” you pointed to the scans, “has a face.” Gamora looked closer. “And this one… they all do.”

“I’ll be damned. They’re Barbies. He swallowed 13 Barbie doll heads.”

~~~

“Barbie heads?” Scott repeated after you told him, Natasha, and Peter what happened.

“Yeah,” you responded. “And Gamora wants two of you to join us in surgery.”

“I’m already booked.”

“I can do it,” Natasha said.

“Me too,” Peter said.

“My foster mothers used to buy me Barbie dolls. All sorts of them.”

“I also wanted one,” you added. “My parents never let me.”

“I dissected them. Cut off their arms, shaved their heads.”

“You’re a little scary,” Scott stated. “You know that?”

“I try.”

“Sounds like there’s a sick and twisted story behind this,” Peter said.

“No, they’re sexist, distorted devil toys that create unrealistic expectations carrying to the porn driven minds of men,” Natasha expressed.

“You swallow a bitter pill this morning, Romanoff?” Gamora questioned, coming up to you interns. “They’re just dolls. Quill, call for a psych consult. Then see if he has family.”

“Should I still book the OR?” You wondered.

“Blocked bowels become necrotic bowels. Check with Dr. Stark, see if we can bump someone. Those Barbies gotta come out today.”

~~~

Gamora had given Clint the impossible assignment to revive a patient. And, unfortunately for him, he was stuck with Laura.

“Any family members waiting?” He asked as he stapled up the man’s chest.

“Still trying to reach them,” Laura responded.

“Good. Well, I mean, not good that we haven’t reached anyone. Good that I don’t have to, uh…”

“It’s always hard.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry about Peter.”

“It’s fine. It’s good. No need to talk about it.”

“You do understand that I had sex with him before you, not during, right? Because when you and I were together—“

“I understand.”

“I just wanted to clear the air.”

“Oh, it’s clear. Perfectly clear… okay.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“And about the syphilis—“

“We really on’t have to talk about it.”

“Which is, I mean, I didn’t know I had it. I definitely should have, I’m a nurse. Like, there was a sore and I was all itchy.”

“Okay!” He backed away almost knocked the tray beside him over. “You know I, uh, got it. You know things happen.” He moved to the door, away from Laura.

“They really do. Things you wish you could change.”

Clint’s pager rang and he looked down. “It’s the Chief, I gotta take this.”

“Sure… Clint.”

“Yes?”

“You have to call it.”

“Call it?”

“Him.”

“Oh, yeah.” He looked at his watch. “Time of death 1:37.” He turned to leave again.

“And, Clint,” he paused, not turning around this time, “if we could, I wouldn’t mind trying again.”

“Maybe… some day…”

~~~

Tony was walking down the hall with Maria, going over the donor surgery.

“When is the donor getting here?” He asked.

“Should be here at 3. Harvest team’s not heir way in.”

“I also need to touch base with the transplant center about a patient here getting his son’s liver.”

You walked up. “Dr. Stark,” you called. “Dr. Gamora needs an OR and they’re all booked.”

“For?”

“An emergent bowel obstruction.” She handed him the scans.

“Drugs?”

“Barbie heads. 13 of them.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

Maria looked at the films. “I can see their little faces,” she commented. “That patient must have serious issues.”

“Hill, can your hernia in 1 be bumped?” Tony asked.

“Most likely.”

“Do it.”

“On it.” Maria left.

“Thank you, Dr. Stark,” you said, moving to go.

Tony grabbed your wrist and stopped you. “Y/N, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m not. I’m really fine.” And you pulled away.

~~~

You, Gamora, and a doctor from psych were currently discussing the psych evaluation on Mr. Sanders.

“He’s not talking. It could be pica,” the psych doctor stated. “Doubtful for a man his age. Maybe an oedipal complex or an idolization of the doll as his partners. Or it could be that he simply enjoys it.”

“Now I've seen a lot of strange things in strange places but how does he enjoy this?” Gamora questioned.

“He’d enjoy it when they came out.”

“I didn’t need to hear that.”

“Dr. L/N,” Peggy called as she walked back. “May I speak with you for a moment?” You looked at Gamora for help.

“Don’t look at me. I’m not gonna help you.”

With a sigh, you went to Peggy and the two of you began walking away.

“I assume he told you why he left me,” she said.

Annoyed, you stopped in front of her. “Look, Dr. Rogers, will all do respect, this has nothing to do with me,” you said.

“Really? So you didn’t take him back. Good girl.”

“And int he future, I’d appreciate it if we could keep our relationship strictly professional.” You walked away.

“Y/N!” You stopped and turned back slightly to give Peggy your attention. “Sometimes people do desperate things to get someone’s attention.” You shook your head and started walking again. “There are two sides to every story!”

~~~

You, Peter, and Scott arrived at lunch first. The three of you picked a large table farthest away from the others.

“Look what I went out and got,” Peter said, putting a grocery bag on the table.  Opening the bag, he revealed 13 headless Barbie dolls.

“Really, Quill?” You wondered.

“That’s gross,” Scott cringed.

“I think it’s funny,” Peter said, smiling, as he laid them out on the table.

“Of course you do,” you muttered.

“Oh! That is sick!” Clint commented as him, Natasha, and Val walked up.

“Who would do that?” Val asked. They looked to see Peter smiling.

“Oh, look!” Natasha said, picking up a doll. “See Barbie fly.” She throw it at Peter, who ducked.

“Hey, Clint,” Laura greeted, walking by.

“Hey,” he replied, sitting down at not looking at you. The interns all gave him a look. “What?”

“She was trying to make up with you, Clint,” you told him. “You should go eat with her.”

“No, I shouldn’t…. No.”

“She’s cute and she likes you,” Scott said.

“You shouldn’t let a little syph get in the way of that,” Val added.

“It’s not the syph,” Clint insisted.

“It’s so the syph,” Natasha said.

“It’s not the syph!”

“Then what is it?” Val asked. Clint didn’t answer, looking down. “Oh.”

“What?” You wondered. Clint simply shrugged. “What is it?”

“There’s this other girl,” Val responded.

“Val!” Clint exclaimed.

“Other girl?” Natasha questioned. “You have another girl?!”

“He hasn’t told her that he likes her yet,” Val said.

“Val!” Clint exclaimed again. “This isn’t high school.”

“Clint has a little crush.”

“I do not… It’s a thing, a very personal thing. One day I would like to build on this thing with this other girl—woman. She’s all woman.”

“What are you doing, Clint?” You asked, slightly harsh.

“I-I don’t—“

“With Laura. What are you doing with her?”

“Oh. Nothing.”

“You’re letting her think you’re emotionally available. You’re letting her think she has a chance. And there is nothing worse in the world than think you have a chance when you really don’t!”

“Y/N is right,” Natasha said. “Tell her that there’s someone else. And tell her why, Clint. I mean— I mean at least give her the chance to have some feelings about it!”

“Why are you both yelling at me?” Clint asked.

“Because of the estrogen Clint! Because of all the estrogen!”

~~~

“Was it an act of desperation?” You asked Mr. Sanders as you headed into his surgery.

“Not at all,” he replied.

“Something to attract attention?”

“No.”

“I’m just trying to understand here. Why 13 doll heads?”

“Well because 14 would’ve been too much.”

You cringed and helped the nurses get Mr. Sanders on the operating table before going to scrub. It was Gamora, you, Peter, Val, and Natasha in the surgery.

“I think it has something to do with his mother,” Val suggested. “Maybe she always wanted a girl and gave him Barbie dolls because of it.”

“Ah, ah, I’ve got another one,” Peter said, showing the head in the intestine.

“Uh!” You groaned.

“Doyen clamps to Romanoff,” Gamora ordered. “L/N, push the head up to the incision.” You began to squeeze the doll head up through the intestine.

“Maybe his mother looked like a Barbie doll and he’s into voodoo,” Peter suggested. “Instead of sticking pins in… well…”

Dr. Stark entered the OR. “You good here?” He asked Gamora, observing you though.

“Couple more heads to go,” Gamora responded.

“Then L/N stay here. All you other interns I need you on other cases.”

You met Tony’s eyes before he walked out of the OR.

~~~

Clint was put on a case with Steve. They were about to go separate ways so that Clint could run labs, when Steve stopped. He looked back at Clint.

“Is she okay?” Steve asked.

“Who?” Clint questioned. He looked up at Steve and knew. “Y/N? She’s… hanging in there.”

“Look out for her.”

“I will.”

Then Steve walked away. Before Clint could get really far, Laura found him.

“The family of the guy we worked on this morning is here,” she told him.

“Thanks for letting me know,” Clint responded.

“Clint, I just want an answers, so that I can get on with my life if I need to.”

“Look, maybe I’m not over the Peter thing yet or the syph thing… And I really want to be, but there’s also another girl. And, to me, it doesn’t matter there’s this other guy and frankly I wouldn’t care if she gave me the Ebola virus… I like you, Laura, I really do. Just… I—“

“You’re going to need some time.”

“Yeah.” He kissed her forehead. “Thank you for understanding.”

~~~

Steve was standing alone in the elevator when Peggy walked in, both dressed to leave.

“Just when the day was improving,” he murmured.

“You told Y/N what happened?” Peggy asked.

“I did. Why? What did you tell her?”

“That sometimes people do desperate things to attract attention.”

“What? Wow. That's your side of this? That I didn't pay you enough attention. Is that you were thinking when you got naked with my best friend?”

Peggy reached over and stopped the elevator. "No, by that point I wasn't thinking at all Steve. By that point I was just scratching an itch. We got successful you and me. We got busy and we got lazy. We didn't even bother to fight any more Steve. And Bucky was there and I missed you. And now I'm sorry.” Steve restarted the elevator. “I’m more sorry than you can possibly imagine. But at least I'm talking to you about it.” The doors opened and Steve walked out. “Steve.”

“I’m a sink with an open drain, honey.”

~~~

“Did you get them all?” Mr. Sanders asked. You were checking on him, post-surgery.

“Yes,” you replied. “It wasn’t easy or very pleasant. How do you feel?”

“Empty… I feel empty now.”

“Yeah. I've been feeling a little bit of that myself lately.”

“I can tell.”

“Mr. Sanders, why does eating doll heads fill you up? What’s the satisfaction?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Would it be too much information?”

“Might.”

“Maybe I’m better left in the dark.”

next chapter >

I leave for Disney World in a week. It is the last big family vacation that I will be on for a while. Because of that, I will not be on tumblr March 19th through March 24th. I will actually be deleting the app so that it’s not a distraction.

Most likely, nothing will be posted during that time. If something is, it will have been queued up. Things that are posted while I’m out of town will not have tag lists attached. I will put this note in all the fic posts until then.

So do not come at me for spending time with my family instead of including the tag list. (I say that knowing that people won’t care and still come at me.... be respectful and get over yourself.)

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

[robininthelabyrinth]

This is a very vague plot but I would love to read an Emperor or very powerful WWX fic from you. I enjoy Boashan Sanren’s Emperor!WWX AU and I also love fics where WWX really is powerful and free to kick ass and just wreck shit. I really think your take on these tropes would be an interesting one and enjoyable read for all. Thank you for all the fics and your efforts in the fandom so far. Take care yourself. ☺️

fictional 18th century France in which the entire century is happening at once - part 2  

- for part 1 see: ao3 or tumblr -

Wei Wuxian came to Nie Huaisang for advice.

Well, technically, that’s not quite right, Nie Huaisang reflected. Wei Wuxian, when faced with a situation that exceeded even his formidable talents, reverted back to his old ways in times of severe crisis. Namely, he ran back to ask for advice from his adopted family – which by this point consisted only of Jiang Cheng, what with the majority of the Jiangs having perished in the infamous massacre. 

(The newspapers had dubbed it “le massacre des lotus”, a poetic way to elide the horrific mess of blood and death and despair that it had actually been.)

Naturally, Jiang Cheng didn’t have any idea what to do with the hot potato he’d been handed, and so he, and Wei Wuxian with him, came to Nie Huaisang, who always knew what to do. Who else did they have to ask?

Sure, Nie Huaisang supposed they could have gone to seek the advice of Lady Jin, formerly Jiang Yanli, Jiang Cheng’s older sister, but luckily Jiang Cheng was self-aware enough to know how much of a political disaster that would have been. Regardless of her personal merits, of which Nie Huaisang was certain there were many, the former young lady Jiang had married into the Jin family, a move that was widely viewed with suspicion. 

After all, the spectacle of yet another wealthy noble marrying another wealthy noble in exactly the sort of thing the Revolution and the abolition of noble privileges had been meant to stymie – and this particular marriage especially suspect given that everyone knew that the Jin family’s politics leaned heavily monarchist, having only just barely refrained from becoming émigrés themselves by the thought of the financial advantages they thought they could get following the fall of the Sun King.

For the Jins, the marriage had been a coup, giving them a claim to legitimacy in their new era; for the Jiangs, it was far from being the best move, politically speaking, no matter how much they swore that it was a love match.

It must have been, for the normally astute Jiangs to make such an unforced stumble.

The marriage itself was bad enough, but if Wei Wuxian, grand (if highly unorthodox) hero of the foreign wars, was seen consulting with the Jins, allowing them to influence him…well, it wouldn’t end up good for anyone, except maybe the ones who wanted to overthrow the Revolution and reestablish the rule of the Wen dynasty on the basis of the divine right of kings.

Apparently, chopping off the heads of the last set wasn’t enough to warn the rest of them off.

Fucking émigrés.

At any rate, that was how the whole mess had ended up in Nie Huaisang’s lap.

“I’m not sure what you’re looking at me to tell you,” Nie Huaisang said, idly fanning himself. That wasn’t exactly in fashion either – fans were very much seen as an affectation of the previous political order – but it was garnished with the appropriately patriotic rosette and anyway, everyone knew he liked fans, useless self-indulgent dandy that he was. Good only for throwing parties and keeping an active salon for his own entertainment, albeit one very in vogue and coincidentally very popular with all the famous revolutionary thinkers of their day.

Besides, no one in their right mind was going to claim that Nie Mingjue’s little brother wasn’t sufficiently revolutionary.

“Don’t pull your good-for-nothing stunt with me,” Jiang Cheng said, rolling his eyes at him. “I was there when it all started, remember?”

Jiang Cheng had lucked in to being there when it all started, since unlike many of the other people Nie Huaisang had so carefully invited to his salon, Jiang Cheng had been invited purely on the basis of being an old friend from school. That he’d become a hero of the Revolution instead of being imprisoned and executed after the massacre of his family by the increasingly paranoid and dictatorial Sun King was his own good fortune and hard work, naturally, but he wouldn’t have even known where to start if it hadn’t been for Nie Huaisang and his connections.

“I remember,” Nie Huaisang said. “I also recall that you and Wei Wuxian broke ties long ago, isn’t that right?”

Obviously that little façade had been entirely political.

It would have been awkward for Wei Wuxian, darling of the armies and terror of the continent, inventor of a brand new form of warfare and at least half a dozen new pieces of artillery, to be so closely tied to any one noble family, no matter their history together. It would have led to accusations that the Jiang family was seeking to take advantage of the Revolution to strengthen their own power, no matter how passionate a revolutionary Jiang Cheng was personally - the Jin sect had already started spreading rumors, casting allegations, implications, smears...

Their show of very publicly disowning each other had put an end to that.

“Don’t play dumb,” Jiang Cheng said impatiently, because he knew that Nie Huaisang knew that it was all bullshit, even if the newspapers Nie Huaisang bankrolled pretended to swallow the bait down whole. “Are you going to help us or not?”

“Of course I will,” Nie Huaisang said, rolling his eyes at him. “We’re friends. But because we’re friends, I’m going to tell you flat out that you already know what the choices ahead of you are and you know which one is the best move. What you want is for me provide you with any other options, and I’m not going to be able to do that.”

“This is just insane!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed. He was pacing around the room, face pale and cloak black, as looking dashing as always. Nie Huaisang wanted to get out his paints and force the man to pose for him and maybe a dozen or so of his closest artist friends; it would be stunning. “I can’t – why would they ask me? A few years ago, I was just an artillery captain! Son of a servant and a runaway novitiate!”

“The whole point of the Revolution was to favor merit, not birth,” Nie Huaisang reminded him. “And anyway, who cares that you were an artillery captain back then? You’re a general now. The Lion of Yiling.”

“The Menace of Yiling, the Fiend of the Burial Mounds, the Nightmare of Europe…” Jiang Cheng murmured, recounting some of the less polite versions. Nie Huaisang waved his fan at him – he wasn’t helping.

“Your brother is a general, too,” Wei Wuxian pointed out, a little desperately. 

It wouldn’t help him.

“Mm, he is. He’s also nobility of the sword - well, saber - from a line that has existed for generations, even if we did have rather ignoble origins,” Nie Huaisang said. He was not without sympathy for Wei Wuxian’s predicament, but really, some things were obvious. “We all know he’s the incorruptible and all that, but it’d be far too easy for the newspapers - and our enemies - to paint him as having done it all for his own selfish interests. There’s a reason he announced all the way back at the beginning of the wars that he wasn’t interested in political power when he was done, that he’d retired like a modern-day Cincinnatus. Who would have trusted him as commander-in-chief if he hadn’t?”

“Me,” Wei Wuxian grumbled. “Sane people, if they’re thinking straight! Your brother is incorruptible. He doesn’t even like war, even if he’s damn good at it. People should be chomping at the bit to get him to be the one – the one to – !”

“They are,” Nie Huaisang said dryly. “The innocent ones and the ones egged on by the Jin family both. They know the only way to tear down his influence is to get him to make a mistake.”

“And you won’t let him do that,” Jiang Cheng said knowingly.

Nie Huaisang snorted. What did Jiang Cheng know? “I didn’t need to say anything. He was offended on principle by the very thought of it.”

All three of them sighed in unison – Nie Huaisang a little long-suffering, Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian a bit dreamily.

It was a good thing Nie Huaisang had long ago accepted that every young man in France between the ages of twelve and thirty four, at minimum, was at least a little in love with his brother, or else he would have found it all far more aggravating than he did.

“To get back to the point,” Nie Huaisang said a moment later. “There’s simply nothing for it: you have to be the one to take it. No one else will suit half as well as you.”

“Why does someone have to take it at all?” Wei Wuxian demanded. “The principles of the Revolution -”

“Because we can’t function with these endless wars on our borders, as well as within them,” Nie Huaisang said, losing patience, and both Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian scowled, not wanting to accept the truth of what he was saying. “We need a stronger executive than we have right now, simply put. As for the form of that executive, well, the Revolution simply happened so fast that people are refusing to accept it without at least the trappings of the ancient regime - even if it’s not quite the same as the last time around. And as for why you, that’s because you can be trusted to shepherd it, to let it grow to the maturity it requires, and we will not fear you clinging to power when the time comes for it to return.”

Wei Wuxian scrubbed his face. “You trust me too much.”

“Not really,” Nie Huaisang said with a shrug. “You’re upright, moral, selfless…it helps that you’re exclusively interested in men, of course. No heirs means no dynasty.”

They both started spluttering.

“Oh, I’m sorry, had you not realized that yet?” Nie Huaisang barely bothered to hide his smirk behind his fan. “I thought it was obvious. You flirt with women for sport, not profit, and of course there’s your taste in pornography…”

“Back to the subject!” Wei Wuxian shouted, his normally shameless face flushing bright red. “Back to the subject!”

Nie Huaisang snapped his fan shut, making them both jump.

“All right,” he said. “Back to the subject: you have to become emperor, Wei Wuxian, or else someone else will, and they’ll be worse. I’m not saying that you’ll be good at it, or that you’ll enjoy it, or that it won’t end up with you exiled to some island in the middle of the ocean for thirteen years before making a miraculous return to save the country from itself –”

“Oddly specific.”

“Be quiet. What I’m saying is that you have to do it. The army supports you because you’re their darling, the people support you because of your victories in the war, the Jin and the other aristocrats support you because they think they can manipulate you through Jiang Yanli, the Lan and the other members of the Church…well, to be frank, most of them think that you’re a horrible blasphemer, which they think about all of us, but if you agree to let them crown you they’ll get over themselves and endorse you anyway. Even the foreign nations that we’re currently at war against would support your ascension to the position because the greed for power of a single man at least makes sense to them and accords with their understanding of history, as opposed to our Revolution, which is new and makes them afraid of what they might lose if it’s allowed to live. In short: it has to be you.”

Wei Wuxian sat down heavily on the couch. Jiang Cheng went over and put his hand on his shoulder.

After a few moments, he cleared his throat. “What about the rest of them?”

“The rest of them?”

“The other revolutionaries. What will they think? Your brother – he’s one of the most ardent proponents against the institution of the monarchy. How can he be happy with an empire?”

Nie Huaisang went and sat next to Wei Wuxian, pressing a nice pastry into his hand. “You went to the same classes I did, Wei Wuxian. You know that in ancient Rome, the position of Emperor - the imperator power - was originally established in the form of the ‘dictator’,” he said. “A magistrate granted absolute power in extraordinary times, for a limited time, for the purpose of rescuing the Republic.”

The most famous example of which was, of course, Cinncinatus, the man his brother was so often compared to. 

He thought Wei Wuxian would be a good example of that selflessness as well.

“I did attend class, and more often than you did,” Wei Wuxian said with an uncalled-for amount of snark. “And I remember very well that in ancient Rome, the institution of the position of Emperor meant the death of the Republic.”

“But not this time,” Nie Huaisang said confidently. “That’s what all our enemies will think, yes, but in truth you’ll be a dictator in the old-fashioned sense of the word: you’ll take the power, you’ll do the work, and then, when the Revolution has progressed enough to continue on its own, you’ll step down. My brother would support something like that. They all would.”

“But what if I don’t step down? What if the power goes to my head and I start to see myself as – as essential?”

“Three things,” Nie Huaisang said. “First, you’re an arrogant piece of work who already sees yourself as essential, and it hasn’t made you go crazy yet. Second, you’re fundamentally lazy and indolent at heart – take it from someone who knows – and while you’re very industrious if you think it’s your duty or the right thing to do, if given a chance to do the right thing by not doing work, you’d jump at the chance.”

Jiang Cheng looked as if he would protest the characterization, but Wei Wuxian nodded. He’d always loudly dreamed of retiring to the countryside to be a farmer or a mad scientist or something, and if Jiang Cheng had always thought he was joking then Nie Huaisang, at least, had not made that mistake. “And the third thing?”

“If you really do end up fucking it up, my brother will turn Baxia on you.”

Jiang Cheng choked, and Wei Wuxian snorted. 

“That’s oddly comforting, actually,” he said, and smiled. “Okay. Fine. You’re right – I’m the only one that can do it and do it right. And since that’s the case, I’ll accept: first the position of Consul, and then, as necessary, the position of Emperor. But you have to help me – you, your brother, Jiang Cheng…even Wen Qing. I insist on it; I won’t let her get executed just because of her name.”

“I can work with that, and really, no matter what the Jin say, I don’t think that’ll be a real issue. Having a daughter – well, cousin, but who’s counting – of the former dynasty working for you is a good move,” Nie Huaisang said. “Set her up with something that’s both important and yet non-political so people don’t feel threatened…revitalizing the hospitals and improving public health, maybe. She’d like that; didn’t she always want to be a doctor instead of a princess?”

“Anyone else I should make sure to add in?” Wei Wuxian asked. His eyes were avid and serious, which he rarely was in peacetime; Nie Huaisang looked forward to the day when he could be frivolous and light-hearted again. 

Still, it was good to see that he was committed.

“Jin Guangyao is the least objectionable of the Jin family, even if he is a belatedly recognized bastard,” Nie Huaisang said. “He’s more treacherous than a snake, but since we know that, we should be able to manage him appropriately. Put him in charge of the police and the spy network; he’ll do wonders with it.”

And probably end up assassinating his father, but in Nie Huaisang’s opinion that wouldn’t be that bad of a thing either. He resolved not to mention it to the others.

“Jin Zixuan isn’t objectionable,” Jiang Cheng put in.

“No, he’s very pretty,” Nie Huaisang agreed. “Your sister can hang him on her wall as artwork.”

“…he really doesn’t have many other talents, does he?”

“I’m given to understand that he spends money very well,” Nie Huaisang said dryly, and both men winced: as a dandy, Nie Huaisang had the most experience in such things. “You should also take Lan Wangji into your administration.”

“Lan Wangji?” Wei Wuxian’s face was a bit red. “Doesn’t he hate me?”

“After all the polemics he’s written in your favor, you still think he hates you? Just because of your little tussle back at school? Please get over yourself.”

“They’re in the Revolution’s favor, not mine…”

“Actually, no, he’s right,” Jiang Cheng said. “There are definitely some explicitly in your favor, and he wouldn’t do that by mistake - not with how eloquent a writer he is, even if he’s practically a mute in person. But...Nie Huaisang, what role would you put him in? He may be from a family that’s closely affiliated with the Church, but he’s not actually a priest himself – and anyway, if we were going to have to appoint an archbishop to help support us, I’d rather it went to someone like Xiao Xingchen. Everyone likes him.”

“And the fact that Xiao Xingchen is beholden to no one and interested in charitable works to the exclusion of all else is an extra bonus,” Wei Wuxian said, showing that he did, in fact, know some politics underneath his thick-skulled appearance. “But that’s a good point. What role did you have in mind for Lan Wangji?”

“I mean, ideally he’d be Empress,” Nie Huaisang said breezily, and enjoyed seeing Wei Wuxian’s face heat up and Jiang Cheng start spluttering again, “but since that’s at least ten years out, might I suggest appointing him as your chief of staff, and his brother as your foreign minister? That way you can keep Lan Wangji nice and close by, his aura of righteousness and habit of policing everyone around him will help stop the flow of corruption, and it’ll appear as though you’re using him as security against Lan Xichen – nice and distant and not at all corrupt, even as his writings continue to make the populace swoon over you. Jiang Cheng can continue to lead the navy, as he does now, and my brother the army; we can work out peacetime posts for them later on.”

“Hold up,” Wei Wuxian said. “Go back to why he’d be the Empress…? He doesn’t even like me!”

“That’s not the problem with that idea,” Jiang Cheng squawked. “Wei Wuxian..!”

Nie Huaisang went to pour drinks.

His work here was done.

[genesisrose74]

okay but imagine this... dream smp but college au. or avatar au. or fantasy au--

OKAY HEAR ME OUT: multiple kingdoms set in a fantasy realm ALFKWLFKS—

Be prepared cause this might be long, but here’s how it would go:

Dianoia: Dream’s kingdom; prides itself on its knowledge of magic paired with elite strategy -> very powerful and controls a handful of other regions in the land, so they’re quite feared by many. Dream always wears his facemask into battles or intense meetings, but will take it off for banquets, balls, etc. just to be more charismatic. Turns often to his trusted comrades Sapnap and George whenever the kingdom must make a diplomatic decision. Punz (military captain), Callahan (head scholar) and Hbomb (main technology whiz) are also well-involved with maintaining the prowess of the kingdom. Purpled is a noble with very good relations to the king’s court, so he gets to kinda do his own thing in return for helping out the empire if he’s asked.

Antarctic Empire: dual rulers Phil and Technoblade, BECAUSE YOU KNOW HOW IT BE -> an absolute fucking unit when it comes to producing the most modern artillery, lots of advancements in transportation, (trident travel, polar bears, etc. - a whole bunch of ice-related modes of movement within the kingdom because it’s very efficient and there’s plenty available - as well as good air tech as a nod to Technoplane and Phil’s expertise with elytras). Techno is being taught by his father how to rule properly, but it’s evident he’s got a good touch when it comes to learning to be a good king. Despite his icy exterior (one that contrasts his father’s usual jovial nature), subjects of the kingdom are very fond of the heir. Phil also has two other sons :3 I wonder...

Maluterra (aka Badlands) -> BBH, Skeppy, Antfrost, and Sam. Bad is ringleader, but each main member plays integral roles in the maintaining of the lands. Very well known for their Robin Hood type strategies. They’re pretty rogue and non-traditional in comparison to other established empires, but because of the strong threat they pose if they were to ally with another kingdom, they are often recognized and invited to take part in diplomatic discussion with the powerhouses. Negotiation is occasionally difficult if BBH has his mind set on something. Most of their territory is in woody forest areas, where the sun only reaches certain parts of the ground floor because of the overarching treeline. While at first intimidating, every member is quite warm-hearted as long as you don’t cross them. The structures and places in which they live are very redstone-technical as a result of Sam’s contributions.

Southern Grove -> Eret’s kingdom, which is a very strong specialist in magic and the understanding of natural properties. Located in an enchanted forest area, a ways off from Maluterra boundaries. In order to learn more about magic and its abilities, Dianoia finds much interest in the smaller region. Eret has made it known that they are not a fan of the attention whenever the larger kingdom gets a bit too...overbearing. Home to some enchanted creatures and mayhaps an infamous red haired dryad named Sally who are often very sweet and helpful if you lose your way in the forest. Niki is also a member and is basically like an adopted sister to Eret, and he brings her along to events all the time as she’s very charismatic. People often regard her as the Lady of the Grove due to her vast knowledge of the place and its people.

L’manburg (duh) -> a fledgling city-state that’s fallen under the eye of Dianoia, established by the younger two sons of the Antarctic Empire, Wilbur and Tommy. Located on the outskirts of the Southern Grove, teetering on the edge of territory dominated by Dianoia. On Tommy’s sixteenth birthday, he was permitted to travel outside of the AE to choose what he wanted to focus on as he neared adulthood, and eventually decided to join up on Wilbur’s own journey. When he reached territory near the Grove, he finds that Wilbur had started a family with one of the dryads some years prior, but for reasons his brother doesn’t discuss he lost his lover and is left with a child. When they officially establish L’manburg as their own “kingdom”, Dianoia makes claim that they’re still part of their empire’s territory and therefore a subject. There are a few power struggles concerning the status of L’manburg.

Aarderidge -> That’s right bitches, Tubbo is a prince who’s been living as an orphaned child after the tragic passing of his father a few years prior. Since he is 16 and not of due age to currently take the throne into his hands completely, he’s permitted his father’s former consultants to assist him with leadership until he turns 18. While not the most prosperous kingdom, they are still a respected region because of their strong and friendly bonds with other leaders. They’re quite skilled at archery and horseback, and have very well thought out strategies whenever a rare conflict arises. Unlike a large percentage of the population and quite contrasted to what he’s known of his family’s heritage, Tubbo has magic abilities that allows him to manipulate plants and other organisms - which not many are aware of - and this additionally helps him form connections with animals. May or may not have some healing abilities he’s attempting to harness as well, but only very close comrades know about that. He’s incredibly intelligent despite having a happy-go-lucky aura about him, and it makes him very beloved by the people. Karl is an appointed noble who’s very good friends with Tubbo and who often visits the boy.

End Kingdom -> Not too much is actually known about this place, except for the fact that their people were mostly decimated in a disaster situation some time prior. There’s a living tale that a dragon used to protect the land, but its unclear if that rumor is true. Currently unkown how to access the old kingdom that is now in ruins. There’s a figure that lives amidst the inhabitants of the Southern Grove, who the region’s leaders secretly care for, with unassuming eyes that are never seen outside when it rains. Wonder what that’s about.

I’ve been thinking about this AU for a FAT MINUTE (and maybe been daydreaming myself as a daughter of the Antarctic Empire king dskjfdsk) and it’s only gotten more intricate every time I consider it. I kinda love it ngl, so I mean if anyone wants to like...talk about it with me...i mean 👉👈 Also, if anyone knows where the FUCK to put Quackity in all of this, I’d really like to hear it because I’m a bit stumped.

[nillegible]

(Part 4 of Stay, the MY time travel fic. Read Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 )

So much that Meng Yao has seen in his second life has been disturbingly accurate to the memories that he still has of his former life, but the brothel is different. It feels much smaller than it did to a child who grew up there. Appears more garish than he’d seen from afar, after ordering the place to be burned down. Or perhaps these decorations are so like the gilded decor Koi tower that he hadn’t noticed, back then.

Meng Yao walks inside now, for the first time since he fled after mother’s death, dressed in simple gray robes of good make, sword and tassel marking him as a cultivator. His hair is deliberately done up plainly, as different from his mother’s as he can manage it. He does not wish to be recognized here, as her son.

“Please, please stop,” someone is crying out, and a tall, well-built young man – not a cultivator though – is dragging a woman outside by the hair. As Meng Yao steps aside to make way, he recognizes her. Anxin. It’s a new way to remember her face, twisted in fear and desperation, instead of in cruel, mocking laughter.

He lets them pass, and walks into the establishment. Two young girls, maybe sixteen, direct him to a table in the main hall and prepare tea. He responds to their flirtation politely; they’re just doing their jobs, after all; and waits for the Madame to be free.

I bet Father, never had to wait, thinks Meng Yao, but it’s an idle thought. Even his mother had not wanted Meng Yao to be like him, only to gain his favour and the prestige that entailed.

For all that he’s a cultivator now, one of considerable renown even if it does not match that of a Sect Leader or heir of a major sect. He waits patiently for the madame’s attention.

The young women at his sides stiffen into perfect posture, alerting him to the imminent arrival of their boss. “How can I help the honoured young master?” the well dressed, elegant woman asks finally, coming over to sit gracefully at his table.

“This one greets Madame,” says Meng Yao simply. “I am merely here to observe, and perhaps make a purchase.” She’s so practiced that her reaction is nearly entirely subdued, only traces of her glee at finding a customer to buy one of her girls’ contract are visible. Meng Yao pretends not to notice, just smiles, serenely.

“The Young Master is seeking a wife, then? My girls are each very accomplished, and I’m sure he will find one eminently suitable to his tastes.”

Meng Yao just nods, as if disinterested. “If madame would show me the suitable candidates…” then hesitates, carefully. “I am not seeking a wife. My Uncle’s wife has taken ill, and I hoped that if I found him a suitable concubine, there would be less disharmony in my household. I am unmarried, and finding good servants is difficult enough without him scaring the help away with his ways.” He scrunches his nose in faint distaste, and watches the calculation in her eyes.

“This one understands, the Young Master will not be looking for their skills in managing a household, then. There are women to match this criterion as well. Some of my girls are great beauties and will certainly captivate any man.”

“He can find beauties on his own coin,” Meng Yao huffs. “As long as she can perform her duties, who cares what she looks like? Will Madame show me the women? I will decide when I see them.” With such crude, miserly words, Meng Yao has saved himself having to browse through most of the women here, as well as much of the haggling. The Madame would not dare to inflate her prices above that of the prostitute’s contract, for fear he’d leave and just bribe one of his female servants to quietly accept the abuse.

Sure enough, after Meng Yao is settled in a private room, the women suggested to him are significantly older than the young ones entertaining downstairs. The madame excuses herself; there’s nothing much for her to do here, but leaves two clerks to explain the costs of each contract.

Meng Yao reads through them dispassionately, even setting aside Sisi’s contract when he sees it the first time, though in the ‘look again,’ pile, not the ‘too expensive’ one. Finally, he narrows it down to three, and the women are requested to attend them, in the small parlor.

Meng Yao keeps his face averted when Sisi approaches. There’s a sharp inhale when she sees him, and he looks up to catch her eye and quickly shakes his head, asking her to not give it away. Seeming to understand, she falls into place beside her two sisters, and allows Meng Yao to… consider his options. He picks Sisi as if on a whim, and then finalizes the purchase.

*

“Meng Yao?” she asks, when they’re left alone, shortly after. There is paperwork to be completed, and they’re brought tea while they wait.

“Aunt Sisi,” Meng Yao says softly. “It is good to see you again.”

“I didn’t expect… do you really have an uncle in need of a concubine?”

“Jin Guangshan has three brothers,” he answers. “But as I have not acknowledged him as my father, I do not have uncles.”

“I see,” she says. That sharp gaze means, go on. Means, what do you want of me, and it is too suspicious, too disturbing to wait until they leave the brothel to explain.

“I would have bought Mother out, if I could. I dreamed of the day. But she died and… Aunt Sisi has ever been kind to her. You were her greatest comfort, in her final days.”

“Meng Shi was a good woman,” she says shortly. There’s no softness to the words.

“I remembered that Aunt Sisi was an excellent seamstress. There is a shop well known to me, in Yunmeng, and the proprietor is willing to take on a skilled helper. The money is a loan from my Sect Leader, but it will be paid back over a year from my allowance. Aunt Sisi may pay me back over a longer time, we can work out the specifics of that loan, after you’ve settled your living at the shop.”

Sisi is quiet for a long time. “There is a merchant,” she says, “Who offered to marry me.”

“The one with the jealous wife?” he asks. “Does Aunt Sisi believe her life would be peaceful, in her household?” Not that she would even get a chance to live there, but there’s no way that Aunt Sisi could know that.

She doesn’t say anything else, nor does he, while they finish their tea, and eat the snacks laid out. Unlooked for good fortune, at the whims of those more powerful than him had never made Meng Yao feel grateful. He’s not going to expect it in someone else.

“I suppose I should thank you,” she says, only after they’ve left the establishment. He’s leading her towards the docks, to rent a boat to Yunmeng. He has all of her luggage sealed away in a qiankun pouch, though her money is in a purse clutched tightly in her hands.

“Aunt Sisi does not have to,” he says. “This one did not consult you, before choosing this for you. I apologize, for that.”

“Don’t bother apologizing,” she says. “It’s just a lot, without a moment’s notice. But I am grateful.”

“You’ll like Madam Yan, the tailor,” says Meng Yao. “She’s kind.” Of course, Meng Yao can practically see her disbelief; of course the tailor was kind to Meng Yao, a paying customer! What would she be like to an underling, and one with an unpleasant background? But Meng Yao knew more of Madam Yan than just the previous day’s meeting with her, when he’d talked to her and asked her if she needed the help of a talented seamstress who needed somewhere to go. Meng Yao’s skilful enquiries and opinions on the robes that he was having commissioned definitely helped support his argument that he knew what he was talking about, and that if he said someone was skilled they must be, but Meng Yao also knew a little of Madam Yan’s history because her daughter would one day be a Jiang disciple, and Jin Ling would be fond of the Shijie with the lovely robes.

He’s certain that he’s making the right choice, to leave Sisi with her instead of at the brothel, where she’d only face injury, scarring, and heartache.

(And then turn desperate enough to be hired for the most suspect of jobs, of being used in a murder plot, and then locked away for years. Meng Yao had been careful to give her a comfortable life, but he doubts that it was any happier than the lives of the koi in his ponds. He owes her this, even if she does not know why.)

The awkward air between them doesn’t clear, even as they hire a boat to take them the half hour upstream to Yunmeng, nor while they stop at an inn for lunch. He asks her if she’d like to rent a room to freshen up in before she meets her future employer, and she agrees. Meng Yao waits downstairs after paying for the room, returning Sisi’s luggage to her.

While he waits, he wanders between the shops nearby. He doesn’t have much money to spend on frivolities, he’s carefully planned out his finances for the next year to allow him to repay the borrowed sum as soon as possible, but browsing has always been fun. His eyes catch on a hat, scholarly, a bit shorter than Meng Yao’s own preference, and he stares for a moment.

So much ribbing in his previous life, for his height, for his name, for how he was more of an administrator than a son to Jin Guangshan, even during all those years where he was the only acknowledged heir. ‘I’m doing it all for you, Mother,’ he’d told himself, through all of it. Setting his signature hat on his head every morning, like a piece of armor. That everything he did was for his mother… and yet he’d killed so many people in her name.

People like her.

Meng Yao remembers the burning fury of hating being called a whore’s son, of people washing their hands when they touched him, like he was tainted, like the filth was on him instead of their sick, twisted minds. Of being refused a chance to carry his own nephew, shooed away and made to stand apart from the golden heir of Lanling.

My mother is not like those whores, he’d thought to himself, she’s nothing like those filth, and never regretted or repented for his choices until he saw Sisi’s scarred, terrified face among the women he’d ordered to be killed.

The frightened, sobbing women who had been used to kill his own father.

Meng Yao thinks of Anxin’s terrified face as she was dragged out of the brothel this morning. He has no idea what it was about. He doesn’t think it matters. Perhaps they truly would all be better off dying in a cleansing fire than living their sad miserable lives, as he’d reasoned to himself before. That they were deserving of such a death, for how they treated Meng Shi.

All of that… any of that, was easier than the truth.

My mother was a prostitute, and I was ashamed.

Nothing, no temple, no prayers, no statues of guanyin with his mother’s face could ever erase his crimes.

“Meng Yao?” asks a hesitant voice, and he turns around to smile at Sisi. She’s wearing the same subdued outfit she’d worn to leave the brothel, but she’s washed away the sweat from travelling over water on a hot day, and her hair has been redone. She looks like any other woman in the marketplace, though the loveliness of her face is still admirable.

“The shop is not far,” he tells her. “Shall we go?”

[Read part 5 here!]

[little-writings]

can i request a fanfic where mc is a veterinarian with her own clinic and the reason she meets jumin is because of elizabeth needing a checkup!

Oh my goodness absolutely! This was actually so fun to write! 

Anyhow, I hope you have an amazing day and enjoy!

———————————————————————————————————–

“How long has it been since Elizabeth 3rd has been to the vet?” V asked, grinning fondly as the snowy-white cat pressed against his legs, a purr beginning to rumble in her throat.  

“She doesn’t need to see a vet. She’s in perfect health.” Jumin remarked, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves absentmindedly. “I have a chef prepare her a perfectly figured diet, one of the most  accalimed groomers brush her coat once a week, and-”  

“They’re supposed to get examined yearly.”  

“Who are?”  

V scoffed. “Cats, dogs, and any other animal you could call a pet.”  

“I’ll see about having a house veterinarian come by.”  

“Well, I’ve actually been hearing quite a bit about a certain veterinarian. I think you’d like them.”  

“Are they on call?”  

“No, they have a well-established practice downtown.”  

“Then I’m not interested.” Jumin stated matter-of-factly. “Taking Elizabeth 3rd outside presents too many risks. She could get hurt, lost or both – or even worse. I would never forgive myself if that were to happen.”  

V’s brows furrowed behind his tinted frames. “They’re apparently one of the best in the country. I hear there’s not a pet they don’t get along with.”  

“I would hope so, being a professional. That doesn’t change the fact that it’s an on-site practice. Any potential danger to Elizabeth 3rd isn’t worth it.”  

“Do you really think I’d recommend something that could hurt Elizabeth 3rd?”  

Jumin jerked his head to V and found himself stumbling over his words, cornered by his own stubborn mind. “What? No, I ah – no of course not.”  

The ends of V’s lips curled up and he knelt down to scratch Elizabeth behind the ears, her quiet purring volume erupting to that of a lawnmower.  

“Then give them a try.”  

Jumin wrinkled his nose. “Why are you so adamant?”  

“Because,” V simpered. “I think you’d like them.”  

Jumin didn’t have to ask the next question for V to know what he was wondering.  

“They’re professional and very devoted to their work,” He rose to his feet and rummaged through his jacket, snagging a crisp, clean card from his pocket. He gave it to Jumin who eyed it curiously.  

“In fact, they remind me of you.”  

Jumin paused. Pawprints bordered the card alongside hearts and a phone number he supposed he had no choice but to call at this point. He hardly saw V enough these days, the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint him.  

“I’ll… I’ll think about it.”  

And so, later that evening, he found himself calling.  

“Loving Paws Animal Hospital, how can I help you?” The voice on the other line was sickeningly sweet and welcoming, as though dipped in honey and soaked in sugar.  

Jumin paused and bit the inside of his cheek, swallowing his pride. ”Yes, I’d like to speak to your lead veterinarian?”  

“MC? They’re currently with a client at the moment, but I’d be more than happy to transfer you to their voicemail. Have we seen the pet before?”  

“No. No one has.”  

The secretary must’ve been left at a loss at the stern tone and proclamation, but she did her best regardless against the statue that was Jumin Han.

“So, it’s a new pet?”  

“No.”

“Then… you’re a new client?”  

“Yes. Potentially.”  

Jumin heard an attempt at a stifled snicker and the hospital gained a mental strike in his mind.  

“Okay well, I’ll just go ahead and transfer you to MC’s voicemail. You have a wonderful day, sir!”

That sugary sweetness returned once more, perhaps even more high-pitched than it had been. There was a pause on the other line before your voicemail began. Your voice, in comparison, was light, airy. Jumin could only think of a pleasant song when listening to it – something he found himself falling into.

“Hi this is MC, I can’t get to the phone right now but if you’ll leave a message I’ll do my best to get back to you as soon as I can!”

Despite all the preparedness Jumin thought he might’ve had, he still managed to stumble the second that alerting sound went off.

“I-I ah yes – my name is Jumin Han, and I was considering setting up an appointment for my cat, Elizbeth 3rd. It’s just for an annual exam, though I don’t even think she really needs it she’s in pristine-”

Jumin realized he was rambling and cleared his throat sheepishly.

“Anyways, I was hoping I could ask you some questions before making a final decision. If you would call me back, it’d be appreciated. Thank you.”

Jumin let out a deep sigh and relented to the horrible process of waiting.

You returned the phone call in the evening when the warm oranges, purples, and slightest hues of a deep, murky blue were settling in and spreading overhead. Jumin answered in an instant.

“Hi! Is this Mr. Han?” Your voice was even softer beyond a recorded message. You sounded sweet, but just the tiniest bit tired.

“Yes. MC, isn’t it? I’ve heard many things about you.”

You chuckled. “Good things I hope.”

A smile tugged at Jumin’s face. “Good things only. It has set my expectations high.”

“Well, I’d be delighted to meet those expectations, Mr. Han. Now, what can I do for your Elizabeth 3rd?”

“Technically speaking, there is nothing that’s necessary. Elizabeth 3rd is perfectly taken care of. I simply can’t imagine any problems arising for such a creature.”

“And what kind of perfect creature is she?”

“She is a Persian.”

You thought for a moment, and Jumin could hear a pen tapping against a desk. “Persian cats can have some complications, even if they’re in otherwise perfect living conditions. Unfortunately, it just comes with the breed.”

A sudden twisting of knots appeared in Jumin’s stomach. He tensed. “Such as…?”

“Well, you know their cute little smushed faces? Like pugs their nasal passages are shorter and more susceptible to their environments.”

Jumin opened his mouth to speak, but you continued on like a textbook’s worth of knowledge had just been released.

“And Persians specifically are prone to polycystic kidney disease, and you have to watch out for that because if ignored when they reach eight or nine years old they could suddenly collapse and die-”

You stopped yourself. You might’ve not needed to jump to that immediate conclusion.

“But I uh – it is also perfectly possible that Elizabeth 3rd is in a completely healthy state!”

Jumin was now staring wide-eyed at Elizabeth 3rd who sat uncaringly in the center of the living room. She was grooming herself and only her tail was lightly swaying from side to side across the carpet. She appeared almost serene.

‘They could suddenly collapse and die.”

A pit crumpled in Jumin’s insides.

“When’s the soonest I can come in?”

You laughed nervously. There was a clicking of a computer mouse and a brief moment of silence where you glanced through the schedule. “I can squeeze you in tomorrow afternoon?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Mr. Han… are you okay?”

Jumin looked once more at Elizabeth 3rd who now raised her head to meet him. She closed and opened her eyes slowly, mewing.

“I will be when I know Elizabeth 3rd is okay.”

You sighed. “It sounds like Elizabeth 3rd has a very devoted pet parent. She is lucky to have you Mr. Han.”

“I am lucky to have her.”

The call ended soon after with you meekly attempting to assuage his fears, and Jumin beginning to pace about Elizabeth like any cause for concern he’d already miss would simply leap out for a dramatic entrance.

Jumin could now hardly wait for the appointment he considered pointless just hours ago.

V may or may not have received multiple texts of concerns throughout the night. The internet truly did not help the situation.

‘I read online that Persians with blue eyes can have something called Congenital ankyloblepharon. While the website says it’s not deadly, another said it’s linked to a fatal disease.’

‘Because of Elizabeth’s small nasal passage, a website is now telling me Elizabeth will more than likely develop a heart condition. Elizabeth 3rd does not deserve this.’

V had begged him to just wait until tomorrow and Jumin reluctantly agreed.

When the appointment finally arrived, Jumin had made sure Elizabeth would only travel in the best his wealth could provide. However, diamond-encrusted cat carriers apparently took a great deal of time to create, so a polyester and mesh carrier would have to do – lined with sherpa, of course, and filled with her favorite toys.

While Jumin had been anxious and fidgety the entire drive, Elizabeth 3rd was curious, excited even. When Elizabeth was pawing at the mesh lining to peek closer at the car window Jumin was tugging at his sleeves and holding his breath. Even Driver Kim took notice, though his support did little to ease his worries.

He only felt a little ease when he finally arrived at the clinic. The secretary had been stunned at the famous heir’s arrival, but quickly recognized his voice. Her surprise then shifted to amusement, a sly smile stretched across her face.

“Hello Mr. Han! How’re you doing today?”

Jumin furrowed his brow, glancing away. “I am… anticipating my meeting with MC.”

“Stressed for the little lady?” The secretary pointed with her pen to Elizabeth 3rd, now rolled over on her back and playing with one of her toys. This was easily one of her favorite days already.

“Very much so.” Jumin answered.

“We’ll be sure to get you in quick then.”

Jumin nodded hurriedly, and sat down. When his name was called he nearly tripped from how quickly he shot up. It was a… difficult day for maintaining composure.

He ran his fingers through his hair, took a deep breath, and then proceeded on through the hall where you waited in the consulting room.

He hadn’t quite known what he’d expected when he saw you, but he still found himself without words, if only for a second. Your face was kind, far more than the ones he’d known throughout his life with eyes that offered a sense of comfort to soften the stress so clearly brimming at the surface.

“Hi Mr. Han.” You set a ginger hand on Jumin’s shoulder, offering a warm smile. “I heard you’re feeling a little concerned for Elizabeth 3rd?”

“That is an understatement.”

You folded your lips in thought, drawing your hand away only to lightly clap, determined. “Well I’ve never met an animal I can’t help, and I don’t intend to stop now.”

A bit of the weight dropped from Jumin’s chest. You tapped against the examination table – a heavy counter in the center of the room with a smooth, thick surface.

The room itself was decorated with pictures of animals surrounded by varying degrees of puns. The one the most caught Jumin’s eye was a photo of a cat, tail tucked just over its paws and a sweet expression beneath the words, ‘you’re purrfect.’

He wondered if you chose that one personally. He hoped so.

Jumin unzipped the carrier atop the counter for Elizabeth 3rd to poke out. She only hesitated for a moment before stepping out to greet your hand, fingers outstretched for her to curiously sniff. You beamed at the very sight of her, leaning down as she dipped her head against your hand, eager to be pet.

“Hello, Ms. Elizabeth! Aren’t you beautiful?” You scratched her cheek and her purring began, akin to a lawnmower. “She’s so sweet!”

Jumin watched as you examined her, flashing a light in her eyes and ears, squeezing her tummy for any masses, and flexing her legs for achy joints. Her temperature was normal, not even a rapid heart rate.

“Now I don’t want to stress her out on her first visit but I recommend we do an ultrasound,” You had remarked, rubbing her belly in one of the rare opportunities that a cat not only tolerated such an action but enjoyed it. Elizabeth 3rd was a rare creature indeed. “It’s just to make sure she doesn’t have anything bad developing in her kidneys.” 

“Do you expect there to be anything?” 

Elizabeth pawed playfully at your fingers, pulling them close to rub her cheeks against them when you relented. You had to draw your gaze back to Jumin to keep yourself from becoming distracted. It was rare to see Elizabeth 3rd warming up to someone so quickly. “Do I?” 

You paused, and then laughed. “Of course you’re asking me, I’m sorry! I don’t know what got into me – she’s just such a cutie! But ah – no I don’t. Elizabeth 3rd is as close to perfect as it gets. You weren’t kidding when you said how well she’s taken care of.” 

“She means the world to me.” Jumin hummed, Elizabeth tipping her head to see him and meowing. She almost appeared to smile when he scratched just beneath her chin. 

“May I ask how you found her?” 

Jumin hesitated, remembering the golden hair and slender hands that once held Elizabeth. It brought a pang. 

“She was a gift from someone dear.” 

You could see Jumin’s sadness so easily. You could only make your best effort to soften the hurt. “They must’ve known you two would be perfect for each other.” 

Jumin lifted his head to look up at you, and you smiled. It was gentle, and at that moment, brighter than the very sun. You wore your heart on your sleeve, and it was beautiful. He grinned, if only gently. “Thank you.” 

“Just being honest.” 

The ultrasound was an experience. Jumin thought you had to be lying or attempting a cruel joke when you brought the clippers. There was simply no way you truly could want to ruin Elizabeth’s coat! 

You had promised only the ‘teeny-tiniest’ area would be shaved, but you also promised it’d be cute. Jumin couldn’t completely disagree. 

You had him hold her still during the ordeal, his hands folded over her front legs and keeping her close as you carefully ran the clippers over her stomach. Elizabeth simply rubbed her head against Jumin’s suit. 

“See! Look at that little pink tummy!” You pointed to the now thin white hairs where just between the faintest hints of skin could be spotted. You encouraged Jumin to run his hand over and it was… oddly soft if admittedly strange. 

“There’s no way you don’t think that’s adorable.” You exclaimed. 

“It’s not not adorable. 

That made you laugh. 

The procedure itself was quick and easy. The probe found no problems within Elizabeth’s kidneys and the only issue that arose was Elizabeth 3rd squeaking in surprise at the cold gel spread over her stomach. 

“I’m sorry sweetie, I’ll get this chilly stuff off you quick, okay?” 

You made plenty of little comments like those to Elizabeth 3rd. While many others would hardly regard something as minuscule you took every effort to make Elizabeth 3rd comfortable. Jumin noticed each and every time. You were doting. 

Just as you said, you wiped her clean, only peppering her in pets all over her belly and sides as she could rollover. 

“She is the picture of health, Mr. Han. The only thing I’d recommend is we make these ultrasounds yearly to keep an eye on her – and so I can see her again.” 

Jumin chuckled. “I take it she’s swept you off your feet?” 

“Like she’s my prince charming.” You snickered. “I’m a sucker for pretty kitties.” 

“I’m glad someone else can appreciate Elizabeth 3rd for her perfection.” 

You nodded. “I also appreciate the owner that’s given her the chance to flourish so much.” 

There was a different type of pang in his chest and the tiniest bit of red flickered upon Jumin’s cheeks. Either you didn’t notice, or you didn’t say anything. 

But you smiled. 

“I ah – I might need to bring her in again sooner than her next yearly. I’ve been researching and read of other conditions in her breed that I’d like to look into.” 

You caught on quick. “Right, and we wouldn’t want to overwhelm Elizabeth 3rd with so much on her first visit! It might be best to stretch these concerns over multiple appointments just so we can do the best job possible for her.” 

“And you can teach me what to look out for and how to find them.” Jumin settled Elizabeth 3rd back in her carrier, pawing at you through the mesh, pink pads just barely peeking through. 

“Of course! And you are more than welcome to call! In fact…” 

You tore off a piece of paper from your notes, scribbling quickly before giving it to him. “Here is my personal phone number, for any questions you may have.” 

Jumin smirked and tucked it away in his pocket. “I expect I could find quite a few until our next appointment.” 

You clicked your pen, simpering. “I’ll be patiently waiting, Mr. Han.” 

“Jumin is fine.” He stretched out his hand, palm open. “In fact, allow me to properly introduce myself – we weren’t given the proper chance. I’m Jumin Han. It is a pleasure to meet you.” 

Warmth reached your cheeks, but you didn’t object, returning the gesture with a firm grip. “MC. The pleasure is all mine. I really do look forward to seeing you again, Jumin.” 

It was rare Jumin could say the same, but for once he did, he truly, truly did. 

“As do I.” 

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 16: Night Before the Battle

(from ‘The Winter and The Crown’)

…in which Harry accompanies Y/N to meet the other queen.

Word count: 3.6k

AU: queen!y/n, commander!harry

Description: Y/N and Harry set off on a new adventure to find ‘the cure’ for an ancient curse, meanwhile, the enemies are plotting to take her kingdom.

Wattpad link (Reyna as Y/N aka Peach)

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Y/N and Harry arrived at the southern border at dawn and found a single tent with two horses outside. Calanthe and whoever had accompanied her must have camped here overnight. Y/N assumed it was one of The Monks; however, she’d never met any of them, except for the one who had been sent to kill her at the market last year.

Y/N dismounted Thunder, unsheathed the dagger at her side and tucked it into her riding boot. They would be asked to submit their weapons before Calanthe received them, and even though Y/N doubted Calanthe could hurt a single fly, it was still better to be careful.

Mary had come to see Y/N the other night, and if the witch had been honest, Harry’s and Lance’s speculations had been true. It wasn’t at all shocking to Y/N that The Monks were only using Calanthe as a chess piece in their game. Calanthe didn’t seem like the mastermind behind this elaborated plan, starting with the attacks at the borders and Harry’s capture. Calanthe was desperate and angry, but she wasn’t vicious enough to want to take over the world.

Hearing Y/N’s and Harry’s arrival, a tall dark man with a thick beard emerged from the tent, dressed in a large black cloak – the signature look of The Monks. He swept his fierce eyes over Y/N with his thick eyebrow arched. Her heart thudded violently as she held her breath in fear of him acknowledging the weapon hidden inside her boot. Thank Gods, he didn’t.

His dry lips spread in an attempt of a smile, which didn’t look at all genuine and less intimidating. He put a hand on his chest and took a bow before Y/N. “Queen Y/N, my queen was expecting you.” His gaze flicked to Harry’s sword. “You must submit all weapons. And your servant is not allowed to enter.”

“That’s my commander,” Y/N said.

The man gave Harry a scornful smirk as he told Y/N, “If you say so, Your Majesty.” Y/N glanced at Harry to see her lover have his fingers wrapped around his sword-hilt. It must take everything for him not to say something when being disrespected by the enemy.

“If Harry is not allowed to enter, he must keep his sword,” Y/N said.

The man held her stare thoughtfully before another eerie smile transformed his long face, sending chills right down her spine. He didn’t ask Harry to hand in the weapon anymore as he told Y/N to come with him.

The inside of the tent was dimly lit by firelight. Calanthe sat in her chair in her riding clothes, her hair tied up in a braid at the back of her neck. The shadow on the wall looked as though it wanted to engulf her. She looked small and young and helpless. Without Y/N’s uncle’s crown on Calanthe’s head, no one would be able to tell that Calanthe was a queen and not a young maiden being held captive by the evil man in the black cloak.

The inside of the tent was dimly lit by firelight. Calanthe sat in her chair in her long golden velvet dress with her hair tied up in a braid at the back of her neck. The shadow on the wall looked as though it wanted to engulf her. She appeared small and young and helpless. Without Y/N’s uncle’s crown on Calanthe’s head, no one would be able to tell that Calanthe was a queen and not a young maiden being held captive by the evil man in the black cloak.

“I thought I told you to come alone,” Calanthe spoke once the man had left.

Y/N took some time to study the Queen of Theros. A lot had changed about Calanthe since the last time Y/N had seen her in person. She looked sick with her bony physique, lifeless eyes and pallid skin. What had they done to her? What had she done to herself?

“Harry’s my commander,” Y/N said, keeping a straight face. “It’s not safe for a queen to travel that far on her own. And didn’t you bring someone as well?”

“Vossler’s my new consultant.” Calanthe rose from her chair, eyeing Y/N with contempt. “Since you killed the old one.”

“I’m not here to be accused of murder. I wasn’t in the castle that night.”

Calanthe tilted her head and pouted with feigned innocence. “Who should I complain to then? Your husband?” Her face turned cold. “Let me remind you why you’re here, Y/N. I asked for the witch. Where is she?”

Y/N’s expression remained unchanged. “I told you I came with just Harry.”

Calanthe’s eyebrows knitted. It wasn’t until now that Y/N realised how quiet it was. There was no sound but the crackling of the fire and the sighing of the wind. She wondered if Harry was still waiting for her outside. He wouldn’t leave her by choice. She could take down Calanthe, and hopefully, Harry could handle Vossler, unless this was a trap and they’d just walked straight into it. Y/N doubted it, though. The reckless little girl who’d been forced to put on her dead husband’s crown would probably have Y/N and Harry murdered tonight. However, Calanthe wasn’t playing this game. The Monks were.

“The witch belongs to me,” Calanthe said, pulling Y/N out of her thoughts. “You return her to me, and I will spare your life in the war.”

“I don’t ask for mercy in a war I’m not losing.”

“Even if it means you’d get to keep the North?”

“Get to keep the North?” Y/N scoffed. “The North belongs to me. I’m the rightful ruler and heir to the crown. My family is the oldest family that’s ever lived–”

“Said the only family member survived,” Calanthe cut her off. It was a jab in the heart, still, Y/N didn’t let it show. “The first High King angered the Gods,” Calanthe went on with a smug grin. “His bloodline would end with your death.”

“Is that a threat?” asked Y/N.

“I never threaten.” Calanthe’s brows were drawn together. “I guarantee that you won’t live to see your people bend their knees to me.”

Y/N chuckled. “Should it be easier if you kill me now, though?”

“And become the villain in the story? No, darling,” Calanthe asked with fake surprise. “I must win on the battlefield, my dear. But if you give me the witch, I’ll let you live to be a sad loser. You can keep the North, marry your handsome king and live happily ever after in your winter castle. But if you keep the witch, I’ll have to declare war against the South based on the fact that your brother murdered my husband, and you murdered George Wallace.”

“There’s no proof for either of your accusations.”

“Trust me.” A corner of Calanthe’s red lips lifted. “It’s so easy to convince the other kingdoms that you’re just as mad as your brother.”

Y/N swallowed hard, balling her fists. She wasn’t going to let herself be provoked by Calanthe’s harmless words. This woman wasn’t the real enemy.

“If you declare war with the North,” Y/N said, “you declare war with Attwell, too.”

Calanthe rolled her eyes and smirked. “With Rouxvania’s support, I would surely win.”

Y/N’s stomach dropped. “The East is on your side?”

“While you were too busy looking for the cure for your lover, I was busy nurturing my allies.” Calanthe turned her back to Y/N, facing the fire. Y/N caught a glimpse of two long scars on Calanthe’s right palm. It seemed like she had been learning to wield a sword. Y/N guessed The Monks was going to send Calanthe onto the battlefield where they’d make sure she would not return. They wanted all kings and queens to fight to the death so they’d take over one hundred kingdoms.

“They’re just using you,” Y/N broke the silence. Calanthe glanced over her shoulder, her eyes troubled. “They’ll kill you like they did to my brother and the first High King,” Y/N went on, keeping her voice as quiet as possible. “Egon and Lokesh also believed they were ‘the chosen one’. You’re their next victim, Calanthe.”

Calanthe whirled around as she snapped, “And why should I trust you?”

“Because I don’t want the South for my own,” Y/N calmly said. “And I’m not standing here as your enemy. I’m here as a woman who doesn’t want to see another woman suffer from abuse from men.”

Calanthe’s eyes squinted with doubt. “You’re only saying this because you fear you’re going to end up like every single one in your family. Dead.”

Y/N clenched her fists, now highly aware of the existence of the dagger in her boot. Still, she kept her composure. “I know you hate me because of what my father did to your family and kingdom. I am sorry. If I could go back in time and stop him, I would. But I can’t. I’m trying to help you now by telling you the truth–”

“You don’t know what the truth is,” Calanthe cut her off. “You think you’re so special huh? Just because you found the lake and survived the North Forest, it doesn’t make you special, Y/N. You’re just as twisted as the men in your family. Lokesh sold his baby’s soul for victory, didn’t he? And we both know you didn’t just ask a witch to bring your friend back to life for free. You killed you ba–”

Y/N didn’t wait for Calanthe to finish. She shoved Calanthe into her chair, drew the dagger out of her boot so fast that Calanthe could barely gasp when the shiny blade was held at her throat.

“Your Majesty, is everything all right?” asked Vossler as his shadow towered over the entrance of the tent.

Y/N applied a little bit more pressure to her dagger as she leaned in and whispered into Calanthe’s ear, “I’d cut your throat before he could set foot into this tent.”

She could see that Calanthe was trying her best to look calm while her big blue eyes were showing the opposite. “Everything is fine,” she told Vossler.

Y/N looked back over her shoulder and saw that Vlosser hesitated before he left. He probably suspected something was off but had no choice but to obey the command.

“I know you can’t kill me,” Calanthe said through gritted teeth.

Y/N turned back to her. “I can. I just chose not to because I’m not stupid.” Her fingers relaxed around the hilt of her dagger. “But as you can see, it’s very easy for me to kill you. And we’re not even on the battlefield, Calanthe.”

When Y/N pulled away, Calanthe let out a loud sigh as she immediately reached for her throat as if to make sure her head was still attached. Y/N thrust the dagger back into her boot, smiling.

Calanthe gave her a dismissive wave, too embarrassed to even make eye contact. “You may leave.”

Knowing there was nothing she could do to change this foolish woman’s mind, Y/N kept her thoughts to herself and walked out without a single glance back.

Outside, Harry was waiting with the horses while Vossler was sharpening his blade by the tent. Y/N could feel Vossler’s dark eyes following her as she exited the tent and padded straight toward Harry. His eyes stayed fixed on Vossler as he asked her, “So?”

She shook her head and mounted her horse. “Let’s go.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but he knew this wasn’t the right time to have this conversation. Giving Vossler one more glare, he got onto Lightning’s back. Together, they rode away.

When they came across a river, Y/N suddenly stopped, got off her horse and walked straight to the riverbank. She stood there in silence, just gazing out at the water.

Harry came up from behind her. “Peach, what happened back there?” He sounded worried. It made her feel bad.

She sucked in a breath and put her arms around herself. “I had a dagger at her throat, and she still wouldn’t surrender.”

There was a pause. “Peach, you can’t do that. She’s still a queen.”

Y/N whirled around to face a concerned Harry. “She’s an idiot. Now people are going to die. I can’t stop this war from happening.”

He sighed and placed his hands on her shoulders. “It’s not your fault. You can’t control everything.”

“Everything is my fault.” Her head drooped as her voice cracked. “This all started with me running away. I killed my father and my brother, and my uncle was murdered because of me.”

“You did what you thought was right at the time. You couldn’t have known.” He squeezed her shoulders gently. “You’re not responsible for their deaths. If I were to die defending you, it wouldn’t be your fault, either.”

Her heart stopped. She looked up into his green eyes. “Don’t say that. Don’t you ever say that. You won’t die.”

A knot lodged in her throat as his eyebrows sloped. “When someone dies, they die, Peach. You cannot stop it. But no matter how or when it happens, it will not be your fault. And you will not waste one moment on guilt.”

Tears blurred his features. Y/N couldn’t even think of something happening to Harry again. Losing him once was already too much. Other than Lance, Harry was the only person in her life who knew what kept me up at night. He knew her more than her own family had. It would be like losing her mother all over again, but she’d known long before her mother’s death that it was going to happen. Her mother had been sick. If Harry died under the hand of the enemy, it would happen suddenly. How could she ever recover?

“Tell me you understand that.” His voice shook her back to reality.

She didn’t want to understand, but she nodded nonetheless because that was what he needed to see. She slipped her arms around his neck, and he hugged her tightly. She never wanted him to let go.

“Your father and brother weren’t good kings.” His voice thickened. “But you are a great queen. You’re the chosen one, Peach. You’ll lead your army to victory. I believe in you..” Stepping back, he squeezed her shoulder once more and offered a smile to fool her into thinking everything was going to be okay. At least it worked. “Come.” He kissed her forehead. “It’ll be a long trip back to the castle.”

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It was official. There was going to be a war.

Two days after Y/N and Harry had come home, the news had travelled to all high and low courts that The High Queen of Theros had declared war against Isolde to avenge the deaths of her husband and her consultant. Y/N had faith in her well-trained army as well as Lance’s for they had all expected this outcome. Her father had been well-prepared for this. Nevertheless, this wasn’t at all what Y/N wanted.

The night before the battle, it snowed thickly outside. The castle was too quiet. It was as if the universe was holding its breath for the bloodbath tomorrow.

Y/N rose from the soaking tub. Jo helped her slip on a thick robe, and she padded on her bare feet across the fire-warmed stone to the lone mirror. Using her palm to wipe away a bit of steam, she tilted my cheek and observed the faintly red and bruised skin along her chest and the corner of her mouth. She’d got them from the fall off the cliff; they were barely noticeable now. Sometimes she missed that feeling of free-falling to her possible death. If it hadn’t been for the people she’d leave behind, she would have chosen the easy way out.

Was it easy, though?

Death.

It sounded easy if the choice was given to you. However, her death would only prove Calanthe right. That she was destined to receive the same fate as the men in her bloodline. And she didn’t want to be associated with their crimes and weaknesses. If she were to die, she’d die brave and honoured, holding her sword.

Blinking, she caught Jo’s dreadful eyes looking back at her in the mirror. “I’m scared, Y/N,” Jo muttered as she twisted the towel she was holding.

Y/N turned around. “Don’t be scared. We’ll be fine.” She didn’t know that for sure, but she’d say anything to put her friend at ease. It didn’t work, though.

“If they took the castle, what would happen to me?” Jo asked, her forehead creased. “I’d surely die. I cannot protect myself.”

“I won’t let them take the castle.” Y/N mustered an encouraging smile as she took Jo’s hand. “And you can protect yourself, Jo. I’ve shown you how to use a dagger—”

“Being shown the basics of how to use a blade and using it on another living person are two different things.” Jo pulled her hand back. “I would’ve stood there and screamed.”

“You would’ve defended yourself,” Y/N said, this, she genuinely believed. “I’ve seen how vicious you get when Harry ate your last piece of pie.”

The skin around Jo’s eyes crinkled as she giggled. “I would duel him to the death for that delicious cake.”

A short laugh burst from Y/N. “Just imagine all the attackers as Harry trying to steal your last piece of pie and you’ll be good.”

They laughed about it together and pretended that it was just a joke. In reality, Y/N knew Jo had a good reason to be scared, as was she. She’d failed to save Jo once. How could she be sure she could succeed this time? There was no witch to help her. She’d have to do this on her own.

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Sweat dampened Harry’s skin as he dipped down and kicked out. Caught off guard, Lance staggered to the side and froze before he could start striking back. His gaze dropped to where Harry held the dagger to his throat. The corners of his lips lowered.

Harry smirked. “I win.”

“It’s not about winning.” Lance scoffed, rolling his eyes. “It’s about surviving.”

“Isn’t that winning, though?” Harry lowered the dagger and stepped back.

Lance shot him a glare and sheathed the dagger at his hip. “The battle tomorrow isn’t a game.”

“I know that.” Harry put away his blade. “But I still won.”

“Boys, can you stop being boys for a moment?”

They both whipped around to find Y/N standing on the steps in her white fur coat, staring out at the yard.

“She’s talking to you,” Harry and Lance said to each other at the same time

Y/N marched up to them. Her face scrunched up like an angry teacher as she regarded them both. “You two are aware that we’re heading to battle at dawn, right?”

Lance’s eyes widened as he aggressively pointed his hand at Harry. “I’ve been trying to tell him!”

Y/N crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at Harry, who put on a grin. “I’ll be in serious fighting mode at dawn.”

She rolled her eyes. Her lips arched faintly. Harry knew that she knew he was just trying to keep everyone calm and in good spirits. Deep down, he was a bundle of nerves. He hadn’t been sleeping since they’d returned from the border. Whenever he closed his eyes, he’d see death. He wasn’t afraid of dying. But if he died, he couldn’t protect her. There would still be Lance, but he couldn’t count on anyone else but him and herself to keep her safe at this point.

The three of them headed back inside. Y/N stopped Lance when he was about to retreat to his chambers. “Come to the throne room and drink with me,” she said. “Both of you.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to get drunk before a battle,” Lance said.

Harry and Y/N exchanged the same kind of look. To Lance, Harry said, “We’re not drinking to get drunk. Besides, this might be the only chance we get to drink together.”

Lance flicked his gaze between Harry and Y/N before throwing his head back and exhaling sharply. “You two are unbelievable.”

Y/N laughed as she slipped her arm around Lance’s and tugged him along. Strangely, Harry felt fine with it. Maybe knowing this could be the last night of his life had made him more sensible. He would think about what she’d said on the night she’d asked him to marry her. About how she loved Lance even though it wasn’t the same way she loved Harry. He would look out for Kenny, too, even though Kenny and Stefan were married and had a baby together. While Lance’s feelings were not reciprocated, Harry knew he’d still jump in front of an arrow for Y/N.

“Here’s to us staying alive,” Y/N said, raising her cup. “Long live the Queen.”

Lance chuckled as he lifted his. “Long live the King.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Long live Harry.” And chugged the wine from his cup.

Y/N sat on her throat while Harry and Lance sat on the step on either side of her. She stared thoughtfully into her cup as she took a deep breath. “I want you to promise me one thing.”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I’m proposing, Lance.”

“Well, I have a feeling that I won’t like it,” Lance said and poured himself some more wine. Harry gestured for Y/N to continue anyway.

“If you see me having trouble on the battlefield,” she said, “just know I can get myself out of it. I want you to mind your own business, watch your own back unless I scream for help. Do not try to help me and get yourself killed.”

Lance shook his head. “Y/N, you know I can’t promise you that.”

“You must.”

“You’re not giving me orders. We’re equals.”

Y/N let out a soft breath. “I’m not giving you orders, Lance. I’m asking you.”

Harry could see Lance softened at once. The King averted his eyes and stared down at his cup. “I promise,” he replied weakly.

It was enough for Y/N. She turned to Harry. Forcefully, he nodded and gave her his word.

[phoenixyfriend]

I am seized by a fatal need for courtroom ninja drama fic

But not serious courtroom drama. I'm talking Phoenix Wright style Nonsense.

(Some of this was provided by the folks over in @sloaners​‘ server, but the bulk of it was me spitballing nonsense at people who actually know the games, which I do not. I do paraphrase a few times to make it more feasible as a tumblr post/fic concept, rather than a rapidfire text conversation.)

Or one of those like. Reality TV paternity test things? But specifically in my mind the people involved in the actual paternity are a married couple and someone that joined them to be their third, and Clan Elders are throwing a fit about how the baby might not be the heir by blood! while the actual parents are like "I could not care less, this is our child, all three of us, please stop getting involved."

HashiMitoMada would be a VERY good option for the paternity nonsense, mostly because I can see Madara screeching at his own elders about how he already said Izuna would be his heir and he's not changing his mind!

Tobirama is just begging the paternity test to work faster off-screen because he's the only person with the machines to make it happen.

(Hashirama is just. Moping in a corner.)

"I just had to INVENT a paternity test that works before the birth! I had to figure out how to test amniotic fluid! If you assholes make me do something this stupid on such short notice again, I will be digging some shallow graves!" "...for who?" "I haven't decided yet."

Anyway, jumping back to like a Phoenix Wright-style murder investigation.

The victim was Danzo. Even the prosecution isn't actually that interested in making sure someone gets arrested, but they're legally obligated to do at least try. A bunch of people all acting really suspicious about who killed him. There is at least one shitty fake mustache-on-glasses disguise to provide a paper-thin alibi.

WAIT The other thing this gives us is ninjas in three-piece-suits but half of them wear the suits wrong. I’m talking mismatched buttons. The wrong way of tying their tie. Sewn-on-cufflinks. This is Naruto, for instance.

Tobirama would wear it properly, except he's rushing about in a lab coat, screaming at everyone to get out of his way because he's The Entire Forensics Team.

(This is the part where I have to confess that I have only seen the live-action movie of Phoenix Wright, as I don't game, so I just have the live action and tumblr osmosis.)

At this point, of course, we gotta ask: Who is the most Belligerent Witness And who is the Helpful™️ Witness that's super enthusiastic but entirely useless

I can see, say, Mito being a solid witness that both defense and prosecution are really thankful for.

Modern gen you have like... Sasuke and Neji are both incredibly belligerent witnesses. Neji at least is polite about it but pulls the "only answers with the absolute minimum of information."

Lee and Gai would have the over enthusiasm but forget to say actual vital testimony until pressed, and Naruto would love to help but might not be entirely sure what the case even is.

Shikamaru falls asleep when the lawyers consult their partners. Prosecution A consults Prosecution B for thirty-seven seconds, then turns around and the witness is asleep at the stand.

Tobi (as in Obito with mask) is an incredibly frustrating witness. They have to declare a recess just so all the lawyers can recover their blood pressure. "Can we please get someone up on the stand with this guy as a handler? I'm--I'm going to explode."

Gaara: Helpful. Polite. Answers with detail. Answers the spirit of the question as well as the letter. Includes more detail. That's too much detail. Gaara please stop telling us about the sounds that bones make.

His testimony just drags on forever.

Ninken can and will take the stand! Pakkun even enjoys it! Some ninken require translators.

ABURAME TRANSLATING FOR A RANDOM GIANT CENTIPEDE THAT WITNESSED A MURDER IN THE FOREST OF DEATH

There are arguments about whether or not the testimony can count since nobody else can confirm the translation except Other Aburame so how do they know the Aburame aren't part of the coverup.

"Okay, so this Danzo guy had like fifty shell companies but I think I found the route that leads back to him?" "Nah, that one goes to a guy that died eighty years ago that's still collecting pensions: his family lied and said he was still alive for the money." "Fuck!"

Also I just. I love the idea of Sasuke and Madara being the exact opposite kind of belligerent witness.

Also, Orochimaru answers with pretty much the exact kind of wording as Gaara, but where Gaara is trying to be helpful and provide detail for the sake of the case, and failing to see that it's maybe not necessary, Orochimaru just wants to see people squirm. ...similar thing happens with Sakura and Kabuto. Similar phrasing, very different energy.

I keep picturing all of Team Taka as part of Forensics and Evidence Collecting ajshakshjd

Juugo, holding up a rabbit: I found a witness.

Karin joins forensics and Tobirama nearly weeps from joy until he finds her criminal record "Shit, that was supposed to get thrown out when I turned eighteen."

Tobirama: I asked for an assistant, not a criminal. Karin: I'm on parole. Tobirama: That makes things worse. Karin: I know how to use a [concerningly advanced machine that I, a business major, cannot name]. Tobirama: ...never mind, I'm keeping you.

Karin: I know how to DNA sequence AND use LA-ICP-MS Tobirama: [weeps with joy]

Suigetsu would be great at blood splatter analysis. ...I think I read somewhere that blood spatter analysis is actually over in 'fake science that's pushed by cops and media but actually doesn't work' BUT apparently it’s in the Ace Attorney games so we’re going to ignore reality a bit. We’ve already got dogs and rabbits and centipedes as witnesses, what’s a bit of blood spatter?

He's also probably really good at cause of death stuff? Like looking at corpse and figuring out how long it took the victim to die, which blow did it, whether any damage was inflicted post-mortem, etc.

Sasuke is usually too busy playing Belligerent Witness but sometimes goes to join Taka for... uh... reasons.

Juugo: [takes the stand] Lawyer: Hey, uh, why's that Uchiha guy with him? The witness-- Judge: No, no, we need Uchiha Sasuke on hand when questioning Expert Animal Handler Juugo. Lawyer: ...why? Judge: Property damage.

(Sasuke as a work partner with Juugo, also moonlighting as a witness/suspect in Danzo's murder.)

One time they need Juugo but can't find him even though court is already in session and he said he'd be here, turns out he was lured away by Kakashi's army of dogs. Kakashi didn't notice until he turned to ask Pakkun if he could help find the missing expert.

Juugo is a decent lab assistant, I think?

Anyway.

Tobirama taking on Team Taka as his forensics team while Orochimaru is... hm... traveling the country to promote his new autobiography, which is outselling the newest Icha Icha to Jiraiya's ire.

Sloane suggested “a case where it's all the Sannin as suspects in a murder. They would be THE WORST, say... the murder of Hanzo.”

To which I suggested “The Sannin are all suspects but the people on trial are the Ame trio, maybe?”

Which garnered the response of “It could be a surprise upset IN COURT that the trio should be on trial.”

We love a court upset.

Suigetsu finds out that the cause of death was actually an entirely natural heart attack, but while he was determining this, the rest of the team and the lawyers found like eight conspiracies by Zetsu, three by Danzo, four by Orochimaru, and an entire network of nonsense by Sasori.

INO IS THE PSYCHIC. I know her thing in canon is reading minds but pls. Ino is Maya. The Spirit Medium.

Is the judge: 1. Hiruzen 2. Hashirama 3. Hagoromo 4. Mifune 5. The Daimyou

(Old dude with authority, optionally easily distracted/questionably competent. I'd have gone for impressive facial hair but only Mifune and Hagoromo have more than like... Hiruzen's weird soul patch.)

It's not a soul patch but I don't know what facial hair is called and I can't just call it a goat beard

Response commentary was as follows: The Daimyou would unfortunately be closer to the personality of the ace attorney judge, more blindly agreeing with things that sound good :joy: Hiruzen could be fun if only for the competing facial hair for a beard, yes xD Hagoromo would possibly be most buckwild tho WELCOME TO MOON COURT

I managed to get this far with like... NO idea who the judges were except “IDK maybe Kakashi?” but consider:

...HashiMada rival lawyers

Dropping over to Izuna vs. Touka for when Hashirama and Madara inevitably become suspects of something or other themselves and have to be witnesses.

(Tobirama's too busy running blood tests, Anija, let Touka handle it, she's better at people anyway.)

...Hashirama is like. Marginally more put-together than Madara, right? So that... makes him Edgeworth... somehow... That feels wrong but Madara as Edgeworth feels even more wrong.

Madara is very into screaming OBJECTION

ALSO consider: Friction when a doctor from a nearby hospital gets called in to provide expert testimony on something because Karin is like "no hey I should be the one doing this" and then she sees how cute Sakura is.

But also at some point Kakashi vs. Gai for a nonsense case. Their personalities are both VERY FUN for this sort of thing.

[dreamer213]

Broken Machines: Lights The Dark

Chapter 3: Evening in Atlas Part 1

A week has passed since Weiss’s escape and Jacques’s meltdown, everything has been clean up both in and outside of the manor and Jacques is hosting another evening party as an “apology” for Weiss’s behavior and to announce Whitley as her replacement. The party is set to start at 8 pm, only a few hours away, and the manor staff are hard at work finishing up preparations for the night’s event. But they weren’t the only ones getting ready for the evening. Deep within the manor the youngest Schnee is making preparations of his own.

After finishing his daily assignments, both academic and business related, Whitley tidies up his work space, gets up from his desk and walks over to his mirror.

Whitley: I only have an hour and a half until I need to get changed and two hours before the final walkthrough. I have still have some time to make sure I have it down. A few more goes and I should be ready.

Whitley takes a long look in the mirror, closes his eyes, and then preforms several breathing techniques. Once he’s finished the exercises, Whitley put his heels together, puts his arms out in front of himself with his hands together, puts on slight frown, and lowers his gazes. Where once stood a calm young man now stands a sorrowfully and disappointed boy. He looks into the mirror and signs.

Whitley: I’m so sorry about what happened with Weiss at the charity gala, it was truly a shameful sight.

Yes, I know her behavior was horrible but you must understand she was on ground when it all happened, I’m sure just hearing the word “Vytal” so soon after was far too for much for her to bare.

The fact Weiss made it home alive is a miracle in and of itself, so how could we expect her to come back completely unscathed from the horrors she must’ve witnessed.

Yes, it is terrible how things had to end but all we can do now is hope and pray that she’ll be able make her own way now that she’s on her own.

Thank you for your concern, I to hope that she’ll make peace with her decisions one day.

He continues on speaking several more scripted statements. After he’s spoken his last line he takes a deep inhale and return to his normal stance on the exhale. Soon he repeats the process, this time leaning more into the disappointment aspect, only to start over again this time using a more indifferent attitude as he speaks. It takes a hour for the boy finally stop, satisfied with his work he gives himself an approving nod.

Whitley: That should do for now.

Suddenly there’s a knock at his door, it’s the maids. He opens the door and they bring in his attire for tonight’s party. A thunder grey suit top, cobalt blue vest with silver buttons, white dress shirt, black pants, tie, pocket square, and dress socks, and a pair of navy blue dress shoes. The perfect ensemble for the disinheritance of one heir and the announcement of a new one.

After the maids set the pieces on his bed Whitley nods towards the door, they take the hint and leave the room. Once they’re gone Whitley gets dressed, styles his hair, and heads out towards the ballroom. When he arrives things are going as well as the normally do. The staff is rushing to get everything ready, food venders are setting the buffet, the musicians are tuning their instruments, and Jacques is shouting and hassling everyone over the tiniest of detail. Whitley walks up to him as he’s screaming at servant trying to hang some drapes.

Jacques: No, now that’s too low, put it up higher! No higher! HIGHER! I said higher you worthless insec-

Whitley: Father.

Jacques: Ah there you are Whitley, I was hoping you’d come down soon. Have you finished your work for the day?

Whitley: Yes, I finished my studies a few hours ago. All my assignments are in an orderly pile on my desk as always.

Jacques: And the reports and approval forms?

Whitley: All the forms have been reviewed, filled out, signed, and should be delivered to your office before the party begins.

Jacques: and the speech for tonight?

Whitley: I have both yours and mine completely memorized down to the margins.

Jacques: And if people ask about your sister?

Whitley: “ It’s such a shame that things turned out this way but I suppose it is for the best. Both for the company and her sanity.”

Jacques: Excellent. Since you have nothing to do you can oversee the rest of the preparations. I have to go change into my good suit.

Jacques begins to walk out of the ballroom, he gets a few feet away before he remembers something and turns back. Once he’s back in front of Whitley he pulls a pack of something out of his breast pocket and hands it to Whitley. They were professionally made business cards, white base with a navy blue outline and black font. Inscribed on them is Whitley’s contact information with his name written in large cursive letters with the title of Heir to the Schnee Dust Company underneath. This was his new title and another step closer to his goal. However there’s something very wrong with this situation. Having business cards made for Whitley was one thing but delivering them himself? Not possible. Jacques had too much pride and money to ever do such a menial task. No, something’s off here.

Whitley: Thank you Father but why are you handing them to me? Isn’t delivering things likes this one of Klein’s responsibilities?

Jacques: Oh did I forget to tell you, I kicked that disloyal mutt to the curb this morning, there’s no need to keep such traitorous trash in my manor.

Whitley: I see.

Jacques: Now if you’ll excuse me I have to get changed. Have everything ready before I get back alright?

Whitley: Yes Father.

Once Jacques has left the area the reality of what he just said sets in. Klein, the only person who had cared for Whitley and his sisters in the last ten years, had been thrown to the streets for helping Weiss. The closest thing to a shoulder to cry on he had was taken away because of his sister’s actions. If Whitley had been a normal child he would’ve broke down and cried. He would have shouted and screamed about the unfairness of it all and how his father was being needlessly cruel. But Whitley wasn’t a normal child, he didn’t have the luxury of throwing a fit to get his way. In fact if he ever showed any sign of discontent he’d be punished for acting ungrateful and selfish. No all he could do was stay calm and keep moving forward. He could get someone to check up on Klein later but for now he has to play his part.

Once the preparations are done, the staff is in position, and the door are about to open Whitley heads towards the ballroom entrance where Jacques is waiting. He takes his place at his father’s side and puts on his best “smile” as the doors finally open and Atlas elites begin to pour into to the ballroom. CEO’s, Politicians, Celebrities, and the like were gathered at the manor to attend to tonight’s evening party. Many of them had been present when Weiss made her scene and were anxiously awaiting the outcome of the drama she caused. This was a rare treat for the elites after all, to have the head of the world’s largest dust company the proverbial king of high society bow his head and apologize for his teenage daughter’s outrageous behavior. Oh what a show that would be, the perfect theatre for Atlas’s most wealthy and heartless.

Whitley: The audience is here and the curtains are drawn. Its showtime.

.

.

.

.

This week had been a hard one for Penny. A small riot, several bar fights that made it onto the streets, three robberies, two large Grimm attacks, and a car accident over the course of five days. It’s been really, really tiring but luckily today had been surprisingly normal compared to the other rest of the week. So much so that Penny was able to wrap up her duties on time for once. After her last report is filled out Penny grabs her things, turns in her usb, and is out the door before the front desk assistant can even say good night. Finally the work day was over and Penny actually had enough time to both unwind a bit and get lots of sleep before her next shift. Oh what she could do with that time maybe read a few chapters of “The Tome of Fables” book her dad had gotten her months ago, or try out that stitch pattern Mrs. Peri showed her last week or maybe just watch some tv.

Penny skips off towards home, happy as any girl could be when given some free time. Once she’s made it home she can already hear her dad in the kitchen, hard to work making dinner. It had been a hard week for him to as he’d been call in a number of times for consultations on improving the robot soldiers and some of the mech suits. But no matter how much he had to do Pietro would always find time for his little girl. Penny smiles at the sight and tiptoes over to him. She sneaks up behind him, gets down to his level, and gives him a big hug. Pietro responds in kind, turning his chair around and squeezing her back.

Pietro: Welcome back sweetie, you’re home early.

Penny: No, I’m just on time. Things were relatively peaceful today so I didn’t have to stay overtime again.

Pietro: That wonderful sweet pea. But I was expected you to be home later so it’s gonna be an hour or so before the food done.

Penny: That’s okay in fact I was hoping spend some of tonight on doing a leisure activity.

Pietro: Really, well then why don’t you go up your room and relax then? I’ll call you when it’s ready.

Penny: That’s a great idea thanks Dad!

Pietro: Just don’t forget to wash your hands before you come back down.

Penny: I won’t.

She gives her dad a quick little cheek kiss before hop upstairs to her room. Once she’s inside she kicks off her boots, grabs her book, and plops down on her bed for a nice read. After half an hour or so someone starts knocking on their front door. Who could that be at this hour? If it was an emergency Penny would get a call or message on her scroll from the security office. And the neighbors would usually calling her dad before coming by for anything. Penny, now curious about the situation, sat up from and puts her book down.

Pietro: Penny!

Penny: I’ve got it!

She puts on a pair of slippers and heads downstairs to answer the door. Penny opens the door only to be greeted by the sight of General James Ironwood in his army best with a shopping bag in hand and a limousine behind him. Definitely not what Penny was expecting at to see at 9:35 at night. As soon as the shock wears off Penny stands at attention and salutes her superior.

Penny: Good Evening General Ironwood.

Ironwood: Evening Penny.

Penny: Sir, What brings to my home at this hour? Is there an emergency I need to attend to? Or is there something you need my assistance with?

Ironwood: There aren’t any emergencies in Mantle at the moment but there is a mission I need your help with.

Penny: What do you need me to do?

Ironwood: I’ll explain everything in the car. But first, I need you to get changed.

Ironwood hands her the shopping bag. Penny peeks inside to see a dress wrapped in plastic and a shoe box. Penny takes the bag and heads back to her room to change. She puts the contents of the bag on her bed and opens them. The dress is a simple green evening gown and the shoes are a pair of 4 inch silver heels. Penny remove her normal attire and puts on the gown and shoes. This was strange, wearing such different clothes from her normal look. Even before her restoration Penny had only ever wore one outfit, all the clothes she had were just multiples of the same outfit, and although her new outfit was very different to her old one it still shared many of the same elements the old one did, barring the fact that she now wore shoes every now and then. The dress itself was a bit long and a little too wide around the waist but still very pretty. The shoes, while cute and her size, were hard to walk in. Penny had never wore heels before, she takes a slow walk around her room to try and figure out how to walk straight. After circling her room a few times she gets a rhythm going. It a little slow but it would do. She checks herself in the mirror and is pleasantly surprised at how different she looks in different clothes. She’s looking herself over when she realizes she had left her bow on. She only ever took it off when she was going to sleep so she’d completely forgotten it was still on her head. Realizing it didn’t quite match the rest of her outfit Penny pulls it off and fixes her hair to catch the fly aways. After one more look and a little twirl Penny heads back down stairs to her dad and Ironwood. When Pietro sees her he almost cries. She looks so beautiful, so happy, and is just beaming with pride, it’s almost too much for him. He’s little girl had become a beautiful young lady.

Pietro: Oh my god. You look so beautiful.

Penny: Thanks Dad.

Ironwood: You look nice Penny, now let’s go.

Penny: Yes Sir. Eat with me okay, I’ll be back as soon as I possibly can.

Pietro: Just be safe out there.

Penny: I will be. See you soon.

With a wave and shutting of a car door Penny and Ironwood depart into Mantle’s night. After a minute or so Penny speaks up and finally asks the questions that’s been running through her mind since she answered the door.

Penny: Sir, why did you come to my house in such an oddly noticeable vehicle and in such formal clothing? And why did you have me change into on an outfit that is equally as formal?

Ironwood: Because outfits like this are necessary where we’re going for this mission.

Penny: And where exactly are we going?

Ironwood: Simple, we’re going to a evening party.

There’s a pause as Penny processes this information. Her eyes grow wide and her mouth slowly falls agape as she finds herself confused by the sheer absurdity of the situation she found herself in.

Penny: ………….What? WHAT!

[cordonian-literature]

The Aftermath - Ch. 29

Outside the Bakery

Summary: Drake tags along with Liam and the kids during the country jamboree. The day after, he has to babysit.

Word Count: ~2.7k 

Warnings: none

*All characters belong to Pixelberry, except those that are unique to my story (I’ve also used some characters and fictional instances from Donna Tartt’s book “The Goldfinch”)*

Catch up here!

Tags: @captain-kingliamsqueen @gkittylove99 @lovablegranny @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @mom2000aggie @kingliam2019 @queenrileyrose @shanzay44 @cordonianroyalty @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @cinnamonspongecake @kuladekiwi @twinkle-320 @charlotteg234 @amandablink @texaskitten30 @tinkie1973 @queencatherynerhys @pens-girl-87 @ladyangel70 @sanchita012 @cordonianprincess @liamandneca @cordonia-gothqueen @pink-diamond13 @queenwalton @yourmajesty09 @alj4890​

I’m not sure if the tags are working or not, but I hope I got everyone down! I’ve removed people who haven’t interacted with my posts in a while. If you would like to be added/removed, please let me know :)

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

- Drake -

Since he was worried about Jessica, Drake had decided to skip the fox hunt and spend the day with her. He planned on bringing her to lunch, then a movie, but instead she dragged him to set up the wedding registry. The bridal consultant walked Jessica through her choices while Drake stalled behind. Whenever she asked for his opinion, Drake would just say to choose whatever she wanted. 

“Chinois?” she would persist, asking for his opinion when really, he didn’t know what to choose and didn’t care that much. “Or Birds of the Nile? Do say, Drake, I know you must prefer one of the two.” 

“You can’t go wrong with either,” the consultant said helpfully. “Both are fun and fancy. And this one is simple, for everyday.” 

“It’s fine,” Drake said, his tone more curtly than he intended. Both Jessica and the consultant were blinking up at him, waiting for his decision. 

“China—” the consultant started up again, staring down at a plate on display. “The way I like to think of it is that it’s the end-of-day ritual. It’s wine, fun, family, togetherness. It’s a great way to put some permanent style and romance in your marriage.” 

Eventually, Jessica made a decision, and they were able to return to Applewood.

But the morning of the country jamboree, she said she had to go back to the capital but promised to attend the Beaumont Bash. Drake wondered what she was leaving for, but didn’t ask her to explain. He knew she must have been emotionally distressed by her father’s passing, even though she never hinted a tear. He kissed her, let her leave, then joined the court on the lawn. 

Drake decides to join Liam, who stands with Gabriel and Eleanor. Both children look around the lawn, figuring out what they want to do. Liam spots Drake and waves him over. 

“Dad, could we do archery?” Gabriel asks his father. 

“Of course,” Liam says. A flash of worry crosses his face as he follows the children across the lawn. “No Jessica today?” Liam asks Drake as the two friends walk side-by-side. 

“Nope,” Drake responds. “She’s at the capital. Had something to do.”

“I see,” Liam responds, turning back to the children. 

“Where’s Riley?” Drake looks around the lawn for her, wondering what was keeping her occupied. He notices Neville’s son running around the lawn, along with some other children.

“With Countess Hana. Riley spoke with Rashad, who hold her that Hana is hesitant to file for divorce.” 

“Do I hold it like this?” Eleanor asks Liam, referring to the bow that was in her hand and too far from her face. 

Liam kneels down to the girl and corrects her form, then goes to his son and does the same thing. Once he tells the children how to hold the arrow, he lets them hit the target. 

Eleanor’s arrow lands on the ground in front of the target, while Gabriel’s arrow hits the target at an odd angle and lands behind it. The children laugh at each other’s mistakes, and Liam chuckles at them. 

They hit a few more shots while Liam observes them, making sure there was no chance of injury. 

“Do you think we could all go camping tonight?” Liam asks Drake, his eyes focused on the children. “I can have someone get the supplies together and we can surprise everyone.”

“Sounds like a plan.” 

“What are you two doing?” Olivia asks, walking up to them. 

“Hello to you, too,” Drake greets her. 

“Yes, yes. Enjoying the jamboree with your fiancée?”

“She’s not here.” 

“She got tired of you? It’s about time.”

“Did you come all the way over here to talk about my love life? If so, I’d like to take a minute to discuss your’s—”

“Alright, you two,” Liam interrupts them. “Duchess, I hope you have news about the investigation?” 

Olivia sighs. “No. There were no fingerprints on the painting, nor anywhere in Gabriel’s room.” Her shoulders fall. “I don’t know where else to look. There’s... nothing.” 

Liam’s brow furrows, a dark shadow coming over his face. “Let’s not lose hope yet. Keep looking, and let me know if you find anything. And also,” Liam brings her attention back to him. “I think Riley could use your help convincing Countess Hana to divorce the Earl.” 

“On it,” Olivia states, then walks towards the two women.

Drake and Liam follow the children around the lawn, watching them enjoy different activities. Liam suggests ring toss to Eleanor, who refuses, saying that she knows she’ll lose. 

“Nonsense,” Liam says, then leads them over to the booth. 

Her brother grabs three rings, and Eleanor’s shoulders fall. 

"Here.” Liam lifts Eleanor over his shoulders, then hands her the rings. 

“I feel like a giant!” she cries. 

Gabriel lets her go first, and Eleanor throws her ring in a swift arch onto an outer peg. Gabe throws it onto a center peg, and when Eleanor goes again, she hits it onto the outer peg. 

When it’s time for Eleanor’s final throw, Gabriel has more points than her. Liam secretly grabs the ring from Eleanor, and throws it onto the center peg. Gabriel looks back at his father and sister suspiciously. 

Even though Gabriel won the game, Eleanor still laughed along with her brother and Liam. 

They walk around for a few more moments, enjoying the view of colorful booths that had been put up. They reach the entrance of the maze, and Gabriel turns to his father. “Can we do something else?” 

“What would you like to do?” Liam asks.

“How about maze-tag?” Drake suggests. 

Both kids violently shake their heads. He remembers the time when Eleanor got stuck in the maze, and curses himself for not remembering. 

“Can we play soccer again?” Gabriel requests.

“Of course.” Liam leads the group towards the orchard, but one of his guards approaches them and says his attention is needed elsewhere. 

Drake says that he’ll keep the kids occupied until Liam gets back, and a servant brings out a soccer ball for them to use. 

“Do you guys wanna make teams, or...?” Drake attempts to ask them. 

“No,” Gabriel answers. “We can just choose positions and play.”

“I’m fine with that. I’ve played defense.”

“I’m usually midfield.” 

“I wanna be goalie!” Eleanor cries. 

“Well, Eleanor,” Drake says, focusing on Gabriel and the ball. “Guess I’m defending you.” 

“Don’t lose,” the girl demands. 

The three of them play for hours, oblivious of the sun falling and the air getting colder. Drake was surprised at how agile Gabriel was, and had to push himself to keep up. 

Soon, Liam returns and tells them that it’s time for dinner. The children race towards the tables while Drake and Liam stay back. 

“Everything okay?” Drake asks his friend. “You were gone for a while.” 

“Yes,” Liam huffs. “Madeleine wished to speak to me.” 

“What did she want?” 

“She was concerned that the Anointing Ceremony would be held for an heir whose mother is not married to the king, or at least engaged.”

“You’re no closer to proposing?” Drake asks him. 

“I’m not too sure. I... I’m waiting for the right moment.”

Relief washes over Drake, but in the next second he feels guilty for it. His feelings for Riley were beginning to fade, and he was engaged to another woman, why was he jealous of his friend? 

At the dinner, Drake takes his seat. He sees the children sit with Leo’s kids. Riley, Hana, Maxwell, and Rowan sit near Drake. The court goes quiet when Liam clinks his glass. 

“If I may have everyone’s attention, please, I’d like to say a few words before the evening comes to a close. Firstly, I would like to thank all of you for joining us at the country estate, your company has been a pleasure. The next time we meet, it will be the last event of the Social Season. Per tradition, it will be hosted at the distinguished Beaumont House.”

As Maxwell begins to cheer and Liam brings his speech to a close, the court finishes their meals and heads back to the estate. 

When Riley stands, Liam offers her his arm. She takes it with a smile, and the two of them lead the group back towards the front of the manor. 

As the house comes into view, they see a limo waiting. Riley asks who it’s for, and Liam tells her that it’s waiting for them. 

As they get in, Drake quickly convinces Savannah to let Bartie come along. When they’re all in the car, questions are being thrown at Liam. 

“I thought we could all enjoy a night under the stars,” he tells them. 

After a short drive, they exit onto a campsite. There are tents already up for everyone: Liam, Drake, Riley, Hana, Maxwell, Rowan, Bartie, Gabriel, and Eleanor. 

The children rush forward, claiming their tents. Drake goes into his tent, and comes out with a bag of sticks, marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate.

While the kids chase each other around, Drake gets to work starting a fire. He hands everyone sticks and marshmallows. Liam calls the children over and gives them directions on how to make s’mores. 

The group sits in silence, watching their marshmallows cook. As a joke, Eleanor lowers her stick into the fire, and her marshmallow comes back up in flames. 

“Spicy s’more,” she states. Gabriel and his sister laugh, while Drake takes the stick from her and puts out the fire. 

Liam, chuckling, gives Eleanor his own s’more. While she eats it, she watches her brother cook his marshmallow. Once she’s done eating, Eleanor holds out her hand to her brother. “Can I have s’more?” 

“Of course you can have s’more s’mores,” Gabriel responds. The children and Maxwell burst out into laughter, clutching their stomachs. 

“Did you teach them how to make puns?” Drake asks Riley. 

“Nope! Must be in the genes.” She laughs, and Drake rolls his eyes.

Maxwell grabs the group’s attention next, saying that he wanted to tell them a ghost story. The children lean forward, childish fear on their faces. Riley rests her head on Liam’s shoulder as they listen. Hana and Rowan talk quietly.

Drake looks at his group of friends. It had been so long since they were together, that the feeling of companionship felt new. There was peace and comfort, something he hadn’t felt for a long time. He wishes Jessica were here, but allows her to slip from his mind as he retreats into his tent and falls asleep.

... 

Upon Liam’s suggestion that they go to Ramsford early, their morning is spent driving through the countryside. When they arrive, Bertrand greets them at the door and servants take their luggage inside.

Before they enter the manor, Liam turns to speak to Maxwell and Drake. 

“Do you both think you can watch over the children today?” Liam asks. “I want to take Riley out on a date.” 

“Definitely!” Maxwell cries. “Don’t worry about them, we’ve got it covered. You two go have fun!”

Liam thanks them, then goes into the manor. Drake tries to follow, but Maxwell blocks his path. 

“What is it, Maxwell?” Drake asks, irritated. 

“Okay so I know I told Liam I’d watch over the kids with you, but Rowan and I kinda have a date tonight.” 

“Then why’d you say yes?”

“I don’t know!” Maxwell’s shoulders jump up. “I wanna hang out with the baby blossoms, but I also wanna spend time with Rowan! I’d ask Hana to take care of it but her dinner with Rashad is tonight, too.”

Drake pats his friend on the arm. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of the kids.” 

“Thank you!” Maxwell cries, then pulls Drake into a hug. 

After a few awkward seconds, Maxwell pulls back and rushes into the house.

When it’s time for Liam and Riley to leave, they hug the children goodbye and step out. Maxwell waits a few moments, looking out the window to see if their car had left yet, then links his arm through Rowan’s and heads out the door. 

Drake turns to the children, wondering if they’d just go do something or if he had to be with them at all times. 

“Is there... anything you guys wanna do?” he asks them.

Eleanor shrugs. Her brother says, “I kinda want ice cream.”

That was doable. Drake ducks into the kitchen and opens the freezer, but finds nothing. He asks a servant if there was any ice cream, but they shake their head.

“Sorry kids,” he says to them once he’s returned to the lobby. “There’s no ice cream.” 

“Can we go get some?” Eleanor asks.

Drake thinks a moment. Riley and Liam wouldn’t mind if he brought the kids out, right? “Don’t see why not.” 

While the two of them wait in the lobby, Drake asks a servant to get a limo ready for them. Once the driver is outside, Darke leads the kids into the car and they drive off. 

He sends Jessica a text, wondering what she was up to:

Hey babe. Got any plans today?

She texts back within a few seconds.

in a movie with some friends. text later xx

When they reach town, Drake tells the driver to stop, and that they could walk the rest of the way to the ice cream store. The driver says that he won’t move from this spot, and the kids lead Drake down the street.

He stops in his tracks when the kids halt in front of a bakery. 

“Can we get cupcakes instead?” Eleanor asks.

“You sure?” Drake looks down at Gabriel. 

“Please,” the boy says. 

Drake shrugs and follows the kids into the store, the smell of freshly baked bread surrounding him. The kids walk towards the display cases, discussing what they wanted. 

More and more people walk into the bakery, pushing towards the counter to get their orders. Drake pulls out his phone, wondering if Jessica was free yet. He taps Gabriel on the shoulder and tells them that he would be stepping out, but would keep an eye on them.

Outside the bakery, he watches Gabe and Ella poking at cakes and cookies that caught their eyes. He sees his own reflection in the display window, along with cars and buses on the street behind him. Drake dials Jessica’s number again and brings it to his ear, wanting to figure out if she was out of the movie theater yet.

But just as it was clicking towards voicemail, he notices a deep green sweater in the reflection, sharply contrasting with the pinkish colors of goods in the bakery. In disbelief, Drake turns. 

It was Jessica, head down, in a green sweater, huddled arm in arm and whispering with a man Drake recognized — he hadn’t seen the man in what felt like forever, but Drake knew him instantly.

Boris wore the same coat from the day of the Derby. His hair is slightly ruffled, and he has a bag looped over his arm. But the astonishing part was Jessica, who always held Drake’s hand at a slight distance — tugging him along behind her, swinging her arm childishly — was nestled deep and sorrowfully into Boris’ side. 

They were waiting for the light, the bus whooshed past. They were too wrapped up in each other to notice Drake. 

Boris, who was talking to her quietly, tousled her hair and then turned and pulled her to him and kissed her, a kiss she returned with more tenderness than any kiss she’d ever given Drake.

They were crossing the street. Quickly, Drake turned away. He could see them perfectly well in the window of the bakery. They stopped suddenly, only a few feet away from him. 

Jessica was upset. She was talking quietly, in a low voice overflowing with emotion, leaning into Boris wish her cheek pressed against his sleeve as he reached around lovingly to squeeze her arm. 

Though Drake couldn’t make out what she was saying, the tone of her voice was too clear. Even in her sadness, her joy in this man — and his joy in her — was undeniable. Any stranger on the street could have recognized it. 

As they glided past Drake — looking like two affectionate ghosts in the display window — he saw her reach up to quickly dash a tear from her cheek. Drake found himself blinking in astonishment at the sight: for the first time ever, Jessica was crying.

[restingdomface]

Okay I can’t believe I’m going there, but, Lan Wangji’s magical healing cock and also mpreg AU:

Okay. So. Instead of Jin Zixuan being a dick to his crush, he genuinly never had a crush on her at all, and in fact, it never came to light until the Sunshit Campaign started, but JZX had a crush on Jiang Cheng all along. Jiang Cheng, who, reluctantly, returns his affections. Wei Wuxian is disgusted. His brother has terrible taste in men wtf.

So. Things went differently this time. What’s the change here? Meng Yao never left Nie Mingjue’s side. Of course, he did the spying thing, but he never betrayed him (this could be a part of my idea where NMJ and MY plan to actually have him be a spy and send him off after a planned execution of a soldier that NMJ decided needed a death sentence more than banishment, or, an AU where MY presented the idea to Wen Rouhan that his coming to WRH’s side was the betrayel itself). Now how does this change things? Because I honestly and truly think that if MY didn’t go to Jin Guangshan’s side afterwards, JGS wouldn’t have had the sway to execute anyone else in the Wen Family, or do anything horrible like that.

TBH he tries to wipe out the rest of the Wens, but it goes so badly and this time MY isn’t on his side (lol you know JGS would have tried tho, imagine how humiliating it would have been to be publicly denied by your own bastard son at the banquet after wow) and so JGS ends up removed from power entirely and JZX gets made sect leader instead.

This means, that since JZX is about to marry JC, they’re going to have to move to LanlingJin instead of both of them arguing over if they’d move to Lotus Pier or not. Cause they would argue over that. This means that Jiang Cheng is going to be the next Young Master Jin and Jiang Yanli is now officially the Jiang Sect Leader. Nice.

So. We’re rid of JGS and everyone’s happy and MY probably isn’t gonna kill anyone cause now he can marry NMJ in peace and not have to deal with anyone else, where does LWJ’s magic healing dick come in? Hold on I’m getting to it. Impatient.

So. The Wens. Of course, before JGS was removed from power, Wei Wuxian was actually running around saving Wen survivors and gathering them in the Burial Mounds, so he actually has to be coaxed into leaving by his siblings and LWJ and even JZX and NMJ (who thinks this is rather like that one time he had to coax Nie Huaisang out from under his bed when he became convinced NMJ’s cat was a demon because it wouldn’t stop attacking his songbird and he couldn’t come out cause she was in the room and she would steal his soul but she’s just sitting on the windowsill and meowing at them and NMJ is just silently planning to feed her more and keep her away from the atrium and tbh plz NHS you’re 16 years old you’re too old for this plz stop crying) and it’s great. It’s just great.

Anyways. WWX is paranoid af. Like so fucking paranoid. Cause they have been attacked. He’s got 12 year old girls talking about what the adult men in the Jin sect did to them. He’s got a traumatized toddler on his hip that screams when he sees Jin robes. He’s got children with branded scarring on their faces and wounds you can’t even imagine to come from anything but torture. He’s paranoid. He’s trying to keep the kiddos safe. They’re healers, and he’s given them the tools to heal, but they’re scared, and he’s paranoid without his Golden Core, and he’s scared, and he’s not putting down the toddler plz stop asking, he’s keeping this one, shut up.

So. What can he do but make a few demands? The Lan sect may have strict rules, but they would never attack innocent civilians, and they have rules about killing even animals in Gusu. He asks them to send all the Lan guards they can to escort them to GusuLan. He doesn’t think they’d hurt them in YunmengJiang either, but he can’t risk it. He was there when Lotus Pier burned. Cloud Recesses didn’t lose nearly as many people, and he’s still too traumatized to spend much time in LP rn.

So they go to Cloud Recesses. This actually, also gives the other sects a lot of time to get some glimpses at everyone that came from the Burial Mounds.

Not a single one of them was a cultivator.

This is a little different than canon. WWX can’t handle the loss of his golden core in this one. Not to say that he shouldn’t have done it, but that the resentful energy is dragging him down to the point where all he can feel is paranoia and fear. He’s almost completely unresponsive at this point. He follows after LWJ when told to, and he holds little A-Yuan in his arms, but he doesn’t pay much attention to anyone.

Wen Qing tells them of the loss of his core, but not how it happened. Lan Qiren doesn’t much like WWX still, but he accepts that a cornered animal will bite, and WWX lost his main weapon right before a major war. Of course he would do all he could to keep himself safe.

Jiang Yanli offers for the Wen Survivors to be integrated into YunmengJiang, since they lost so many people. It could help a lot. They accept, since she’s offering them protection and help.

Of course, Wen Qing and Jiang Yanli used to Spend A Lot Of Time Together in Cloud Recesses, so love is blooming there between the two sect leaders, and by the end of a year, they’re getting married themselves.

WWX doesn’t go back to LP with them. He couldn’t do it. A-Yuan and Granny and Wen Ning stay with him in Cloud Recesses. Granny talks with Wen Qing regularly, and A-Yuan is attached to Lan Wangji enough that Lan Xichen starts mentioning that he could attend classes there when he’s old enough. LXC is a WangXian shipper and is trying to get his brother to adopt the child. Y’all know he would. WWX spends his time arguing (loudly, but in a room with magical wards for sound so they don’t get in trouble) with a Lan mind healer that talks through his bullshit with him, sleeping the day away in one of the rooms of the Jingshi (because LWJ made him move in right away and WWX couldn’t even argue cause A-Yuan loves him too and he can ask LWJ to play Their Song whenever he wants to hear it) and following after A-Yuan as he enchants (and terrifies) all the rabbits in the field. Also getting yelled at (softly) by LQR for breaking rules. LQR and LWJ have been making it their personal mission to find a way to either purify the resentful energy so WWX can go back to his normal cheerful self that doesn’t jump or hide when startled, or to regain a Golden core so the yin and yang energies can balance each other and keep him stable.

Of course, JYL sends him a message that she’s getting married, and WWX pulls himself out of the fog enough that he can ask them to go to the wedding (he’s being polite, he’s going no matter what they say lol,) and LWJ accompanies him to the wedding. His siblings are so happy to see him there.

Anyways. Things get rocky when WWX hears them talking about kids.

Jiang Yanli will carry Jin Zixuan’s children, and they’ll keep the Jin name. They’ll know that all four of them are their parents, but it’s a way to pass on the name.

Wen Qing will carry Jiang Cheng’s children, and they’ll carry the Jiang name. This also helps to keep track of what kids are heir to what sect.

Of course, Wei Wuxian, the master of ‘I know The Most Obscure Bullshit Ever’, asks why they don’t just have their spouses children. There are spells and potions for that.

Well. No one else in the room knew that but him apparently. Well, they’re still going to go with their idea for the first few kids, and then they’ll decide if other means of pregnancy options are viable.

Anyways. Guess who else didn’t know it was possible for men to get pregnant? You guessed it. Lan Wangji. Who was also in the room at the time.

So. Wedding is lovely. They all have an amazing time. WWX is able to pull himself out of bed every day. He was even able to work on some cultivation items that LQR begrudgingly admits are amazing items and very useful to cultivation.

They go back to Cloud Recesses, and Lan Wangji combs through his and his uncle’s notes till he finds a viable solution to a return of a Golden core that they had originally scrapped because WWX wasn’t a girl.

To return a Golden core to a body by means of very careful pregnancy. Of course, such a thing would be considered stealing under normal circumstances, and most mothers would rather die than harm their child in the womb in a way that could kill them. But this was a method made to keep both parent and child from harm. A way to build the slightest lump of core in the parent, enough to stick and allow a base to build off of later.

Of course, without consulting Uncle (because the man would be horrified at the idea, and LWJ would rather be rejected by the man himself thanks very much) he takes the proposal to the man in question.

WWXA has to think about this one for a long time. He thinks about it while helping Wen Ning with zombie stuff so he can maintain a stable body. He thinks about it while writing letters to his siblings. He thinks a LOT about it while tucking their two year old into bed and reading him a story with the funny voices. He thinks about it when he spends a night in the cold springs with LWJ one night, close enough to touch the man, because without a Golden core, the water is too cold for him to survive in on his own.

He asks why LWJ would besmirch his honor like that. Having a child out of wedlock, his uncle would throw a fit. His name would be in tatters.

LWJ blinks, once, and twice. He quietly tells him the offer could involve marriage if WWX thinks it’s of import.

So. They get married. So they can have a child. Another child. Just. Yeah. Let’s get married so we can mate like rabbits.

They’re in love. Of course they are. But they’re also shy idiots. LWJ is a sex fiend like usual, and WWX quickly gets addicted to it, but they’re both too shy to say anything sappy yet. Well. No. Scratch that. LWJ is fully willing to admit his love to the world. But he’s a very quiet person. So he mostly just tells WWX how much he would do anything for him, and even eats his horrible poison cooking. Not even A-Yuan will touch that shit.

A-Yuan is so excited to be a big brother. His favorite place to lay is curled around WWX’s big belly and giving it kisses while A-Die scratches his hair and reads him stories.

A-Yuan finally gets his baby and Wei Wuxian gets the stability that a Golden core provides so he can continue using resentful energy to dodge the many many scrolls Shifu Qiren will throw at him over the years to come. LQR swears that if that man hadn’t given his nephew happiness and also many great nephews-

Anyways. The Lotus Flowers are all gay and all happy send tweet.

[percontaion-points]

Shadow Heir chapters 13 & 14

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions.

Chapter 13

“Their names are Isaac and Ivy,” I began.

“Isaac?” he repeated.

“It’s a nice name. A human name.”

“I’m aware. But it’s not the name I’d give to a conqueror of worlds,” explained Dorian. He considered. “I would’ve gone with Thundro or Ragnor. I might just call him Thundro anyway.”

This is exactly my kind of humor.

“Why not?” I asked, never taking my eyes off of Kiyo.

Dorian’s voice was light and easy. “Because I asked him to join us.”

Chapter 13 summary: Everybody is hella angry at Voltage, but they don't say anything. He says that his former queen was strong, but he doubts that even a group of people could hold a spell like this for long. Therefore, the spell must be tied to something physical. Eugenie thinks about the giant, ugly statues that were given to her, and asks Shaya what was given to the queen in return. A vase, and then upon the representative's insistence, a copper plate from the thorn kingdom. And Dorian probably gave something too, but he doesn't care about minor things like a gift exchange. The solution is to go over and destroy the items. However, Voltage isn't much help, and says that part of his time as a spirit means that he cannot cross back into the yew kingdom.

They make plans to go over there. As Roland is leaving, Eugenie tells her step-father that if anything happens to her, then he and Dee need to do whatever they think is best for the twins. However, Roland is of the opinion that if something happens to Eugenie, then he doubts that much would come after him and the twins.

She goes to her other kingdom, where she tries to bond with the land. There, she understands what Dorian and Jasmine were saying: it was a struggle to reach the heart of her land, and even then, everything was in an extreme hibernation mode.

She goes back to the thorn kingdom, where she repeats the bonding, only to find more of the same. Dorian is waiting for her in her room, and asks about the babies. He's unimpressed with the name Isaac, and only just calls him “Thundro”. Eugenie expresses how hard it was for her to leave them, and Dorian promises that they'll try and finish this quickly so that she can get back to her children. Eugenie feels like he's treating her like she's made of glass, and she isn't sure how to deal with that.

They set off the next morning. Kiyo joins them, and Eugenie is more than a little upset over this.

Chapter 14

Kiyo grinned at her. “Butchering. That thing will feed them for weeks.”

Chapter 14 summary: Dorian explains that the time for petty in-fighting is behind them in this blight, and Maiwenn volunteered Kiyo as a scout. Eugenie has to remind them that Kiyo tried to murder her, and Jasmine is right in line behind her sister to kill him, too. Dorian tells them to knock it off.

Kiyo leaves to go scout, but Eugenie doesn't trust him, and sends Voltage to keep an eye on him. Eugenie also expresses how angry she is at Dorian, that he would do something like that without consulting her. Dorian is just disappointed that she thinks that he'd let something happen to her or the babies... But I honestly have little faith in his ability to protect her. Kiyo could still stab her before Dorian could act.

They pass through a village that had once been so tropical and lush with fruit trees year-round that people didn't need to save up for winter. Now, they have nothing. They stop there for the night, but they also have nothing to offer in exchange. A girl comes in to light a fire for them, and Eugenie gives the poor thing an ugly Christmas sweater she'd picked up at a Goodwill in Tucson. Jasmine warns her sister not to get too hung up over individuals; that they're going on this mission to save everybody.

Kiyo comes in, although Eugenie warns him to keep his distance. They naturally argue over her decision to keep the babies. However, Eugenie is quick to remind him that he's the one suggesting that she murder their son, and that he has no right to call Isaac a monster.

They're interrupted by a scream, and run outside to see a yetti-like creature destroying all of the houses. They fight and kill it, although they don't banish it. Hey, at this point, food is food.

[hozier-mp3]

destiel au fic recs?

Oh yes.

Once upon a time I made a post of every single one of my Fic Recs, and I’m especially fond of AUs, so I give you a list of just, solely, AU fics.

Let me start with my shameless self promotions. (They’re actually full of shame I’m sorry but those are my three AU fics I’ve written.

Alright, time for the real ones. *cracks knuckles*     A Million Ways To Go by ChasingRabbits on AO3 - Castiel Novak is a preacher's son living in a world of black and white. Pragmatic and dutiful, he doesn't understand why anybody would want to make waves.Then the Winchesters move in down the street. Soon many of the skeletons in the Novak family's closet are exposed, and as the family faces them, Castiel begins to understand that there are many ways to see the world and so many more ways to live than what he's been told. - This is one of the few fics I’ve reread. The summary pretty much covers it, though, so I’ll let that one speak for itself.

Word Count: 91,079

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1086183/chapters/2185029

Smiling Out Of Fear by thepinupchemist on AO3- Castiel Novak is a product of the system, having gone through too many foster homes since the age of seven. At fourteen, he lands himself in Sugar Lane Mobile Home Community under the care of Missouri Moseley. There, he meets one Dean Winchester. A story about teenage hooligans, growing up, and finding a home. - Okay, I’m not going to say anything other than the fact that thinking about this fic literally makes me almost start crying happy tears. I adore it. (I pretty much recommend everything thepinupchemist has written, but I haven’t gotten through it all yet.)

Word Count: 117,494

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1007755/chapters/1998660 25¢ Pocket Guardian Angels by hopelessheathen on AO3- Dean walks into his local bank one day and notices that someone has filled the old gumball machine with these tiny, wiggling, sentient angels in individual plastic packaging. Deeply concerned about their air supply and the fact that they're trapped there in the sun, he starts pumping in quarters to rescue them. This is worse than leaving a dog in an overheating car. Now he's got forty of the little guys running all over his house, and god knows how many others might be trapped and dying all over the city. - I love this. I could read it three times a day and still get a smile on my face. It’s just a little one shot, but it’s worth the time it takes. Word Count: 13,325

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6359713 

Burden by riseofthefallenone on AO3 - Mutants are considered second class citizens, or worse. Discriminated against at every turn, mutants are marked and monitored by The Registry and any deemed too dangerous are taken away to The Facility. It’s no surprise that many try to hide or choose a more permanent way out if a mutation develops. Castiel’s parents hid his mutation and hid him away from the world. He’s grown up with the knowledge that the world will hate him, no matter what he does. If he leaves the house, he can only do it with a long, heavy coat that covers the most beautiful part of him. It takes a pair of brothers to help him really spread his wings and live. - Yet another I adore. If you’ll keep a secret for me, I’m actually not caught up, but I oh so desperately want to be. I’m kind of a sucker for wings in general, though, so that helps.

Word Count: 317,582

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20613731/chapters/48945302

Out Of The Deep by riseofthefallenone on AO3 - Stay away from the light-beds. Stay in the deep. It is the first thing hatchlings are taught the moment their fans unfurl and they can swim without their parents to buoy them along. It is the first rule, the first law. It is the beginning of every boogey-monster bedtime story told when they settle against the cliffs to sleep. Castiel should have listened better. - Okay, but holy shit. This was one of the first Destiel fics I read, and it heightened my standards to unbelievable places. I adore it. I could write essays.

Word Count: 488,608

https://archiveofourown.org/works/548878/chapters/977676 True As It Can Be by whelvenwings - Growing up in a small town in Kansas, Dean learned from a young age that there was only one rule that couldn’t be broken, one place he couldn’t go - through the forest, to the long-abandoned Angel’s Hollow. But when Sam disappears, Dean’s left with no choice but to follow his brother's tracks through the dangers of the wood; little does he know that the most dangerous creature of all lurks not among the trees, but in the Hollow itself. Dean sets Sam free, at the cost of his own liberty - and, bound by magic, resigns himself to living out the rest of his days in the Hollow, at the mercy of the being within. The angel of Angel’s Hollow, however, has a story - is a prisoner, too, as much as Dean is. Only one thing can free them both - but it is impossible. For, after all: who could ever learn to love a beast? - This was the first, and last, Beauty and the Beast AU I ever read, but for good reason. I’m scared if I read another, that this one will absolutely shit on it and I won’t be able to enjoy it. I loved this fic very much.

Word Count: 71,952 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11048568/chapters/24631101

Okay, before I even mention the next one, please read the tags. There are quite a few possible triggers and the tags, luckily, have accurate trigger warnings. And, of course, archive warnings. (And, of course, be sure to read tags on the others.) If you have issues with that, just scroll past this one, because the others are fine. (I think/hope so. At least. If you have any issues, please, let me know. I’ll put warnings above those too)

Defiant by thestorygirl on AO3 - Dean Winchester has devoted his career as a police officer to helping angel slaves in any way that he can. He even formed and heads the "Angel Welfare Task Force," which involved him being called to consult on any case involving slaves. This passion stemmed from an incident that happened twenty years previously, when a thirteen year old Dean failed to help his friend Castiel escape being sold to a sadistic owner. Dean had never really harbored any hope of finding his friend. He saw his work as something he did in memory of Castiel, to prevent others from suffering the same fate. But, when called out on a routine case one day, Dean was startled to find that he recognized the victim. - So, usually I avoid the Non-Con archive warning at all. But with this one, honestly, I’m lucky I didn’t. I could seriously write essays on this fic. I’m gonna shut up about it, just because I don’t want to talk too much about it. It’s seriously perfect.

Word Count: 133,352

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2180202/chapters/4771569

Alright back to the ones that don’t quite need trigger warnings.

Have Love, Will Travel by squeemonster - Castiel Novak is a reclusive writer with a childhood so tragic it's left him terrified to leave his home—until his overbearing brother, Gabriel, drags him out for a night on the town full of booze and strip clubs, and he encounters Dean Winchester, a mesmerizing and mysterious stripper with secrets of his own. Both men find themselves inexplicably drawn to each other, and soon Dean's private dances for Castiel become much more, as both men confess their troubles and find solace in each other's company. But neither can seem to find the courage to take their relationship further than the intimacy of the club's VIP Room—and just when Dean's own brother gives him the excuse he needs to finally admit his feelings, Dean discovers something that brings it all crumbling down. Will they find a way past their demons and their trust issues, and back to each other?- I love Cas in this fic, his agoraphobia fits his usual outsider-ness and it’s just all beautifully characterized. I very much enjoy “the only exception” tropes as well, so....

Word Count: 94,054

https://archiveofourown.org/works/565455/chapters/1011747?view_adult=true Four Letter Word For Intercourse by Bendingsignpost on AO3 - As a grease monkey turned college freshman, Dean's constantly three seconds away from being stressed out of his mind. It hardly helps that he's finally figuring out his sexuality in his thirties. What might help with that stress is a little phone number (and a big credit card bill). If he can't figure out how to be bisexual in person, he can at least give it a go over the phone, right? (It's probably a bad idea, but he really can't help himself.) - Holy shit. That’s... that’s really all I can say. Holy shit. Easily made my top five.

Word Count: 194,739

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16086839/chapters/37568591 Now, onto the one I haven’t finished, but like... so far.

Beck and Call by Soupernabturel on AO3 - 1922: Dean Winchester, eldest heir to the Winchester Estate, has a less than orthodox relationship with his servant, Castiel Novak. - Like I said, I haven’t finished it yet, but I’m vastly enjoying it at the moment.

Wow, it was really hard not to include canon ones lol. Anyways, I hope this helps Anon, and I hope you enjoy! I love all these authors, and you should give them all the love!