#trying is so much harder and more impressive than succeeding anyway

[rohirric-hunter]

Oh this should be fun

Part of the design choice for Léonys was me very intentionally picking out all of the "weakness of Men" themes in LotR and just. Building a lot of her personality around that. It was kind of fascinating because the last time I made an OC of this nature after I designed the character I had to sit down and figure out some character flaws to give her (which was very popular -- and bad -- writing advice upon a time). With Léonys, as the personality began to develop, it was mostly flaws, and I actually had to sit down and make a physical list of her strengths. Which was kind of an ordeal, if I'm honest. I made one of them, "physically strong."

But that's sort of the point. Her strengths are not really the sort of strengths that are necessary for the story she's in. The things that make characters succeed in LotR are just not attributes that she has. Girl talks and dreams and makes plans around shit she knows nothing about. By the end of her story a Nazgul looks at her and she just fucking. falls over. If she'd had a second conversation with Saruman she would have absolutely fallen for his bullshit hook line and sinker. If you handed her the One Ring I would give her ~18 minutes before she was trying to murder someone with it. There's no digging deep down and finding untapped wells of resilience. Will is her lowest stat, both in-game and in-universe. She's the walking, talking reason why someone who understands the stakes of the world she lives in would conclude that humans can't be trusted with shit. And I designed her that way on purpose.

The comfort of the story, for me, is that sometimes you are weak. Sometimes your strengths are not what a situation needs. Sometimes everything comes out alright in spite of you. Sometimes, the things you're good at are only helpful in one tiny part of a situation. And sometimes that's enough. I think this is why the Wind Will Set Me Racing 'Verse also turned into a Boromir Lives AU. I wanted a story where the characters had the opportunity to sit with their failures, and then also to move on. To have a happy ending despite the fact that they, personally, failed. That their failure -- objective, genuine inability to handle the situation they put themselves in -- does not make them less of a person or less worthy of good things. There's not a lot of stories that celebrate that sort of thing.

(Yes, I am aware of the irony of the fact that by giving her strengths that are less useful than usual in LotR I have given her strengths that would serve her very well in most other fantasy universes. Making her strong, fast, and good at killing stuff would have her kicking ass in most stories. What luck that she lives in one where it's just kinda okay.)

In terms of this particular quest, it's one of those times when I'm compelled to make a quest dialogue work with my particular character decisions. What are the strengths that the Huntsman sees in her when in some ways she can be more a liability than a help? What does, "valour," mean in the context of someone who is actively getting worse at dealing with attacks on her psyche? IDK, I'm thinking something something the person who is willing to try something and be respectful and do it the right way being better than someone who is more likely to succeed, but less willing, or less willing to listen. LotRO often has quests where the player character asks for something from a group who is hesitant to trust, and that group sets them to some kind of task to prove that they're trustworthy and mean well -- often contrasted with some enemy ignoring those people and their wishes and trying to get what they want by force. (Vol. I Book 13 Chapter 4) I'd say it's kind of one of the game's main themes.

[captains-simp]

hey! so i love wanda and i was wondering if you could write one kind of enemies to lovers or something like that where reader and wanda don't get along well, jealous scene or maybe a very suggestive fight. very angst but happy fluffy ending please

Enemies to lovers owns my whole gay heart and I CANNOT write it without there being sexual tension so xksksjsks smut alert

@g-cordelia hope it's okay to combine your request with this too so there's a healthy dose of angst and fluff with it

"Please don't go."

"Don't you fucking lie to me."

Warnings: choking, fingering, spanking, strap on sex, mentions of oral and hints at mild injury

6k words

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Your actions jeopardised the whole mission." Steve said sternly before raising his voice when he saw he received no reaction from you or the redhead. "Whatever is going on between you has to stop!"

"You say that like it's ever been any different." Natasha added.

The pair that usually felt like the protective big brother and sister of the team where acing the role of disappointed parents. Admittedly that did make you feel bad, but Wanda showed no signs of giving an apology and you would be damned if you did first.

Natasha and Steve waited for any kind of response from either of you and got nothing. You and Wanda continued to glare at each other from opposite sides of the table, your stubnorness stopping either of you from looking at the two standing at the head of the table.

"Just write up your reports." Steve sighed, giving into the tension of the room before anyone else. If it had been just you, Wanda and Natasha there was no telling how long you'd be in there.

You both got up from the table at the same time, still refusing to break eye contact.

"Y/n stay behind a minute." Oh so they're switching it up to disappointed teachers now. Your attention fell to Steve in a look of confusion although that didn't mean you missed the smirk that played on the corner of Wanda's lips. You cursed her like a sailor in your head and hoped she heard but her back was to you and she was strolling out the room.

"I thought you guys were getting better." Steve sighed as he leant against the table.

"We were when we didn't have to talk to each other." You said honestly. There had been a few weeks prior where you and Wanda had had no missions together and therefore had no reason to talk or train with one another.

"You can't resort to avoiding each other as a way to solve your problems. All that does is make things escalate even more when you're actually together which will inevitably happen. Because believe it or not you two are on the same side and have to act like it." Natasha said sternly. You stared down at the table and thought about how how her words were. But it wasn't like you had that warning before.

When the pair infront of you knew you weren't going to say anything in response Steve filled the silence once again. "You're both suspended from missions until you can learn to work together." He decided.

"What?!" You cried as you snapped your head towards them and stood up. "You can't be serious."

"Deadly." Natasha said. You looked frantically between the two in disbelief.

"Alright." You said finally and clenched your jaw. You turned around and left the room without objection from the two Avengers, heading straight towards Wanda's room.

You never really knew why you and Wanda never got on. Maybe it was because she reminded you so much of the popular girls in high school you always envied while wanting them in your bed...no, it definetly couldn't be that. You just didn't know what.

It didn't take long to get there when you were walking like you were out for blood, that wouldn't be an unexpected result of what you planned. You banged on her door several times in a closed fist so it didn't take her long to answer.

She looked concerned when she opened the door and as soon as she realised it was you that same smirk from the meeting room fell back into place.

"Did they ground you?" She asked as she leant against the doorframe.

"Suspended." You spat. A shit eating grin started to appear but you wiped that off her face instantly. "Both of us."

"What the fuck? I didn't-"

"Yes you fucking did and now I'm paying for it too. You wanna know the best part? We can't go back in the field until we can work together nicely." You said bitterly.

"Why don't they just keep us on separate missions?"

"You can go ask them that later. Right now we're training." You said simply and you grabbed her forearm and pulled her out of her room down the corridor.

"We just got back." Wanda argued but followed you anyway after slapping your hand off her.

"Not prepared to put the work in, witchy?" You mocked, not looking at her as you marched through the compound.

"Don't call me that?" Wanda warned as she kept your pace.

"What are you gonna do? Read my mind?" You continued to taunt as you arrived in the gym and made your way to the mats.

Wanda put her red jacket on the floor and stepped away to take up her position as she eyed you. "I could snap all your bones into pieces so small they could be mistaken for ash." Wanda said stoicly.

"I don't think that's gonna get you another mission." You replied calmly, knowing that while there was a truth to Wanda's words she would never give you more than a split lip or bloody nose in the worst training sessions.

"Don't be a smartass y/n, it doesn't suit you." Your jaw clenched at her words.

Without warning, the entirety of your right arm lit up in flames and was aimed at Wanda in an instant.

You sent a wave of fire her way that she swiftly engulfed in her powers and sent back towards you. She looked less than impressed from your warningless attack.

"That was tacky." She said.

"I know, seemed fitting for you." You grinned but stopped when the red mist surrounded your body and lifted you into the air before a larger wave of fire was sent hurtling down to the redhead. The wall of fire blocked her view of you and subsequently dropped you to the ground as she dealt with the flames.

As soon as you landed and the fire parted you sent another blast Wanda's way only for her to do the exact same thing. You both ducked at the same time, your powers hitting opposite walls and leaving marks Tony would be on your asses about when he found out.

Wanda was clearly thinking the same thing. "We can't use our powers in an enclosed space, especially not yours." She said, her accent thickly woven into her voice.

"Okay then, let's see if Natasha's lessons have paid off." You said as you raised your fists and got into your defensive stance. Wanda mirrored you the way she had been taught and narrowed her eyes.

"They definelty have." She insisted as her eyes flickered over your form to try and identify your weak points already in a very obvious way.

"Just try to keep up." You mocked and swiftly moved to swipe her legs out from under her but she was surprisingly prepared. She jumped up to avoid your attack and kicked her leg out mid air and landed it on the center of your chest. You stumbled back in shock while Wanda looked very proud of herself. The last time you saw Wanda train it was clear she wasn't familiar with close range hand to hand combat. You hadn't expected her to improve so significantly in such a short amount of time.

You gritted your teeth and went for her stomach this time which she easily avoided but wasn't expecting another attack to follow so quickly. She blocked the continuous blows from you until you saw your moments and kicked one of her legs out from under her. Your mistake was thinking you succeeded the moment she was down because she spun around and kicked both of your legs out. You caught yourself partly as Wanda stood up so you were on kneeling.

Wanda's smirk was quick to take place when she saw your position, not missing the opportunity. "You look good when you're on your knees." She quipped.

Your eyes widened at her boldness and a heat rose up your neck that you knew wasn't your powers. You rolled back on the balls of your feet and swiftly stood up to look anywhere but the smug redhead infront of you.

"No snarky remark for that?" She challenged and you charged at her again. Anger feuled your attacks making them miscordinated and all round bad.

"Shut the fuck up, Maximoff." You huffed and made her grin even more at the clear signs that she was getting to you.

One of your punches was pushed to the side and Wanda took the chance to show you just how much she had learnt from Nat. You weren't entirely sure how she even did it it was so quick. Your arm was outstretched behind your back painfully due to Wanda's unrelenting grip on it and made it that much easier to push one of your legs down onto the floor. She held you like that for longer than necessary, soaking up the view of you struggling in her grasp.

"Get off." You snapped and winced when she pulled your arm back more.

"What's the magic word?" She teased.

"Now." You demanded. She tutted and pulled harder. "Maximoff!" You ordered through the pain. She leaned down beside you as her voice dropped to a low whisper.

"Beg." It was one word but you couldn't deny the effect it had on you. It was as though her light breath on your ear shot throughout your body and settled in a place you really didn't want it to.

You were about to object and tell her to stop being a bitch but her grip tightened and she pulled to a point where you thought your arm might just snap off under any more pressure.

"Please." You cried through gritted teeth. She instantly let go all too quickly and you collapsed onto the mat on your front. You heard her chuckle menacingly but cut herself off when Nat appeared in the doorway.

"We told you to write up your reports, not train." Natasha scolded as she watched you massage your shoulder and glare at Wanda.

"Sorry, just got a bit carried away." Wanda smiled, her innocent and sweet act that she put up for everyone except you returning. "Y/n's had enough now anyway." She smirked to herself.

"Fucking psycho." You muttered loud enough for her to hear but not Nat. Her jaw visibly clenched from that making you revel in the small victory as you finally got up from the mat.

"Just get on with the reports." Nat sighed and turned to leave as Wanda called out.

"On it."

"Aww, you trying to be a good girl, Maximoff?" You mocked as the pain subsided and your need to overrule what had happened came through.

"I don't have the time to stress over that, not when I'm busy putting brats in their place." Wanda said as she advanced towards you with a look you had only ever seen aimed at those you were fighting against.

"What?" You whispered as you backed up and felt your back hit the wall. Wanda's hand came up suddenly and wrapped itself around your throat firmly and cut off your breathing. Your eyes widened as you grabbed at her hands but she didn't budge. She looked amused at your efforts as her head tilted slightly to the side.

"And you certainly need to learn your place." She took her hand away and left you gasping for air for a split second before grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the gym.

You stumbled a little as you tried to keep up with Wanda's long strides you could usually match. Your whole body was already trembling in anticipation, more so by the tension filled silence between you both as you travelled through the compound and ended up outside the redhead's room.

She opened her door and shoved you into her room swiftly. You didn't have much chance to take in your surroundings because the Sokovian gripped the back of your neck and forced you to lay on your stomach on her bed.

She made quick work of your clothes, discarding them to some soon forgotten about corner.

You turned your head to the side and gripped the sheets as you felt Wanda's slim fingers trialing up the back of your thighs before she gripped them roughly and forced them apart and lifted your lower half up. Her fingers returned and glided along your drippikg folds, collecting your arousal as she reveled in the effect she had on you.

"What was it that made you this wet, slut? Was it being on your knees for me? Begging me? Or did you enjoy the pain? I bet you enjoyed me choking you too." She chuckled darkly and didn't wait for you to respond.

She slipped two fingers inside your soaking cunt without warning making you gasp out in pleasure. Her fingers curled inside you beautifully, brushing some kind of nerve ending every second they were buried inside you. She had you a moaning, quivering mess in no time.

"Wanda...fuck! Right there, oh God!" She snickered against your skin as she worked her fingers expertly. Even then she wanted to test you. Well it was more that she was setting you up for failure.

"Shut the fuck up. I don't want to hear another sound from that whiny mouth." She ordered and you couldn't help but shiver from her dominant nature.

Of course it didn't last long. Her fingers felt so damn perfect inside you and you couldn't help but moan at the unspeakable pleasure.

She brought her hand down fast and landed it on your ass with a harsh smack that echoed through the room. She did it to both of your asscheeks until they were bright red and you were trembling. The sadistic redhead didn't stop there, she continued to rain down smacks that edged you further to your edge with the pleasurable pain.

Soon, you were moaning into the air as you came around Wanda's slim fingers, desperatly clenching around them in an attempt to prolong the pleasure. Thankfully, she kept pumping her fingers inside you, not caring when the overstimulation kicked in. She even started scissoring her fingers inside you, stretching your walls in a way that has you whimper loudly.

"Gotta stretch you a little to get you ready for my piece, sweetheart." She said in a sinister tone. "There's no way you'd be able to take it otherwise, it's already going to reck you with its size." She husked into your ear and withdrew her fingers, spanking you again when you whined.

Wanda got off the bed and disappeared into her closet, shortly returning with a large strap secured around her waist and pointed at you. You whimpered at the sight of it, not sure you could handle its size.

The Sokovian kneeled behind you and gripped your hips with both her hands as she lined up the strap with your entrance.

"I'm going to fill you up so nicely, Princess. Gonna have your cumming in no time." She husked, her voice dripping with lust.

A scream was ripped from your throat when Wanda thrust the entirety of the strap into your pussy. She set about her harsh, abusing pace instantly and preened at the sound of the pleasure filled cries that left you.

She grabbed a fistful of your hair and slammed your head down into the pillows on your side do she could still hear all of your desperate moans. The rough action earned the redhead a cry of her name.

Her pace was unrelenting, everytime she thrust back into you she somehow managed to hit deeper, pounding the toy against the most sensitive and pleasurable part of your cunt.

"Mommy!" You moaned loudly, not realising your slip up until the words left your lips. Your eyes widened and you feared Wanda's response, but what you got was a smack from the redhead that stung your ass in the best way. Her fucked you with increasing vigor too, wanting you title to spill from your lips again. And it did. Over and over, each time going straight to Wanda's pussy.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum." You whimpered as you gripped onto the sheets tighter to prepare yourself for your release. But Wanda pulled the strap out the the very tip and held it there as she leant over to whisper in your ear.

"Beg me." She ordered and you whimpered again. It wasn't like you hadn't already submitted to the red head you hated but begging would be something that would loom over you for a while.

Your thoughts clashed with the overwhelming need from your pussy as it desleratly tried to clamp down on the tip that didn't provide nearly enough pleasure.

"Please, Wanda." You whispered.

"Please who?" She asked sweetly, clearly testing you making you groan.

"Please, mommy just let me cum." You whined and Wanda smacked your ass hard. She edged the dildo in further ever so slowly and stopped again.

"Mommy, please! I need to cum." You tried again, desperation seeping into your voice. Wanda hummed.

"I can see that." She mused as she rubbed small circles on your throbbing and soaked clit. "I just don't see why I should, brat." She punctuated the name with a harsh slap to your ass again and you caught onto what she was hinting at.

"Please, I'll...I'll be so good for you, mommy."

"Yeah, baby?"

"Yes! Please mommy I'll be so so good for you. Just please please let me c-" You were abruptly cut off by your own whorish moan as Wanda snapped her hips forwards and filled you up entirely.

One of her hands tangled itself in your hair and forced your head down into the pillows, not stopping your incoherent babbles filling the room along with the sound of your pussy being fucked by Wanda and her thighs slapping against yours.

The Sokovian tugged on your hair again so your head was off the pillow.

"I'm gonna cum!" You cried out into the air.

"That's it, baby. Soak my fucking cock." And with that demand you came harder than you ever had around Wanda's strap and moaned continuously as the redhead prolonged your pleasure by continuing to pound into you.

But it soon became too much for your sensitive pussy. You squirmed away from Wanda but she placed one hand on the middle of your back to keep you flat against the bed.

"Too much." You managed to say, however the redhead didn't seem to care.

"I'm nowhere near done with you, Princess."

*

Laying panting and gripping onto Wanda's bedsheets like a lifeline wasn't exactly what you expected to be doing on a Thursday night. You were drenched in sweat and although Wanda had pulled out the toy minutes prior, you were sure you could still feel it filling you up, the faint throbbing a forewarning of what was to come.

It took you a while to gather the strength to get up. With anyone else you probably would have just stayed the night in their bed, but you weren't sure you could do that with Wanda. Although she wouldn't kick you out, you didn't like the thought of sleeping beside the redhead. It seemed far too...soft? Whatever it was, you were sure Wanda would agree.

You searched for your clothes while she took a most likely deliberately long shower, images of her naked figure covered in water invading your mind.

Once you cursed them away they were just replaced with flashes of what you had been doing for all those hours, remembering how she pulled on your hair as she praised you when you went down on her. Of course you did that while on your knees.

What happened between you and Wanda wasn't a one time thing. In fact it became increasingly common until you were in each other's beds almost every night. You would have been fuck buddies if you had considered each other a friend.

It worked. You and Wanda were able to work out your pent up frustration towards each other in a way that didn't hurt one another....well, if that didn't include the scratches along Wanda's back and the constant aching between your legs.

You didn't even make snide comments about each other in meetings or during training. You were able to keep everything in the bedroom.

The success of what you two had going forced you to ignore the noteable change in feelings you had towards Wanda. You saw her differently but couldn't quite tell how. Sometimes it was as though the unplaceable emotion you had towards her from from start spiked and other times you were purely confused.

It was always most prominent after she made you crash over the edge of bliss or when she came undone beneath you. Those moments when your bodies went limp and you were caught up in each other's embrace because you didn't have the energy to move. Hearing her exhausted breathing match her rising and falling chest and faint heartbeat if you had your head on her chest. Those tender moments were the ones that caught you off guard.

You refused to make a big deal out of it though. You refused to investigate your feelings or even acknowledge them. What you had with Wanda was the most efficient thing you could do. You didn't want to muck it up but you knew it couldn't go on forever. Another labelless feeling emerged at that thought.

Natasha was the only one who knew what you were doing. Neither of you told her, the spy was able to figure it all out on her own quickly and confronted you both about it once, only saying to be careful. That was the only time she addressed it verbally but you could always feel her watching you both carefully when you trained.

You thought it was going great. You and Wanda had finally been cleared for a mission that you would both be on, the team certainly needed the man power. That was until Nat told you otherwise.

"What do you mean I'm not going?!" You exclaimed across the room. You had seen Nat in the meeting room looking up something on her tablet and had gone in to enquire something about the mission that was long forgotten.

"I've thought about it and you and Wanda still aren't deemed the most reliable when put together for a mission, with this one being as important as it is we can't afford to make mistakes." Natasha sighed.

"So why don't you take Wanda off the mission? I have more experience."

"Her powers are perfectly fitted to this mission, we need her."

"And not me." You knew you came across as petty, but you had been dying to go back into the field.

"Y/n." Nat tried but you scoffed and glared at the screens with those assigned to the mission. Your eyes found Wanda's picture first and your jaw clenched at the sight of her ridiculously attractive face.

"What did she say to you?" You demanded as something clicked in your brain.

"She didn't say anything, this is my judgement." Natasha began but you didn't buy it.

"We both know if it was you you would have told me as soon as you decided it. You had no issue with me and Wanda being on this mission before. Hell, you cleared us both for the field." Nat glanced down at her tablet guiltily as she searched her brain for another hopeless lie.

"This is unbelievable." You scoffed and turned sharply on your heels to storm out of the room, ignoring your name being called by Nat.

You soon found Wanda in the kitchen making herself a coffee as she hummed softly. You willed your brain to ignore the warmth you got from seeing the redhead in her own, peaceful world.

"Do you have a problem with me?" You demanded, snapping her out of her trance. She visibly figited when she saw you approach her and lean on the edge of the kitchen island on you hands with an expectant look.

"No?" She said, seeming unsure.

"Don't you fucking lie to me." She seemed startled by your increasing aggression.

"What are you talking about?" She asked as she stirred her drink.

"Don't play dumb with me, Maximoff. You got me off the mission!" Wanda stopped her movements as she froze, clearly caught off guard by your discovery. Given how Nat had acted you guessed you weren't meant to find out it was Wanda who said something.

"It's for the best." She finally said but avoided your eye.

"It is not your place to decide what's best for me, you don't get to do that." You argued.

"There should only be a few people on the mission." She tried.

"I know that, I've seen the intel. But we already discussed that those people should be powered. Why am I being taken off?" You demanded again.

"It's dangerous." She muttered as she stared down at her drink.

"It's my fucking job. You think I don't know that."

"Of course you do, but there's a bigger risk than the usual missions we've been on. A bigger risk of you getting hurt." She muttered the last bit, like she wasn't entirely sure she wanted you to hear her. Granted, Wanda showing concern for your safety was new.

"Any one of us could get hurt." You said, lowering your voice marginally.

"But it's you I'm worried about." She insisted. It was your turn to become uncomfortable, shifting slightly under her gaze that held something new.

"I can take care of myself." You said as you crossed your arms, feeling a sudden defensive need to protect yourself.

"I know... but I care about you." You exhaled slowly, becoming increasingly uncomfortable at the tone of her voice. "If something happened to you..." She continued, "I don't know what I would do." Her voice was barely above a whisper, the softness laced in it undeniable. It sparked something in you. Something you didn't want to accept.

"Good luck on your mission, Maximoff." You said through gritted teeth and went to leave but Wanda was behind you instantly and took ahold of your hand to pull you back.

"Wait, I wasn't done-"

"Well I am." You snapped and yanked your hand out of her grip.

"What..?" She said slowly.

"If you don't want to work with me then we won't, no need to keep fucking anymore." You huffed and went to walk away.

"That wasn't what I-"

"Stop!" It wasn't a cry of anger. It was pure desperation. Your pleading look took Wanda by surprise and pained her to see. "Just stop before you say something you can't unsay." You said shakily. Your unspoken message was received. You didn't want to hear about Wanda's feelings towards you. She just didn't know it was because you were afraid that it would uncover what you had been feeling all along. You couldn't handle it. You were scared.

Wanda nodded, defeated, and let you go. You were filled with grief as you walked away, your footsteps feeling heavier than usual. You wanted to look back, to go back to her. But you couldn't.

*

You distracted yourself with a particularly ruthless training session the day of Wanda's mission. Carol showed you no mercy in sparring, weight lifting and boxing - even encouraging power use every now and then. But your mind still wandered to the redhead the way it usually did.

When you finally collapsed on the mat in defeat Carol chuckled and tossed you your waterbottle before encouraging an ice bath and strolling out of the gym for her evening flight.

You stayed on the floor for a while after you finished your water, only stopping staring up at the ceiling when Nat's outline blocked the lights. You sat up and looked at her hopefully, seeing that she was back from monitoring the mission and didn't seem distraught or upset.

"How did it go?" You asked as she sat down across from you.

"It was a success." She said but she didn't seem all that happy.

"And everyone's okay?" You asked cautiously. Nat gave a half shug and sighed lightly.

"There was ice - a lot if it and it was so cold. Dangerously cold." Nat started. You tried not to clench your jaw or show any signs of annoyance, knowing there was no need to point out that mission was fitted for you and your powers that would have guaranteed everyone's safety.

"Wanda got a little cut up, it was impossible to fight on that ground." You eyed the door and bit your lip, refraining from giving in to the urge to go see her.

"She doesn't want to talk to anyone right now, but she needs seeing to the cut." Nat said as she placed a first aid kit down infront of you. She was back already? And why did you have the kit?

"She won't see anyone either." Nat said before you could verbally question her. It took a moment for you to understand what she was saying.

"I don't think she wants to see me, Nat." You said as you pushed it back her way only for her to toss it into your lap.

"Goddmit, y/n. Can you two stop dancing around each other and actually talk?!" She exclaimed.

"We tried that-"

"Talking, y/n, not shouting or arguing. Talking." She said firmly and got up before you could protest further.

You pondered over what Natasha said for a while. You knew she had a good point, that talking was exactly what you should have done from the start, but it was just another thing that frightened you.

"Your job is facing your fears." You muttered aloud to yourself.

You finally got up from the ground, first aid kit in hand, and trudged along the compound towards Wanda's room. You tried to figure out what you could say on the way. But it all came out a jumbled mess that made no sense. Multiple times you stopped in the hallways and considered turning back before convincing yourself to keep going.

You knocked softly on Wanda's door and was surprised that it opened for you. The redhead in question was sat on her bed with a pillow in her lap, fiddling with her hands the way she always did when she was anxious or deep in thought. That evening it was both.

She glanced up at you as you closed the door but turned back to her pillow quickly when you gave her a short smile that didn't quite meet your eyes.

Regardless, you cautiously walked towards her bed and sat down next to her with the small box between you. You brought one of your legs up under you so you could face Wanda and eyed the cut above her eyebrow in concern. She still didn't say anything, neither did you.

You opened up the small box and got out a pack of wound closure strips and carefully unwrapped one. Wanda didn't object to you gently holding the area around her cut as you placed the strip on and lightly smoothed over the edges until you were sure it would stay on.

"I let my emotions cloud my judgement." She mumbled as you prepped another strip.

"It happens to all of us." You said.

"But I didn't listen to you. I should have." You sighed and stopped unwrapping the strip to look up at the redhead and watch her closely. She looked back at you with a guilty and pained expression that was full of regret.

"Yeah." You nodded slowly as you went back to the medical tape and raised your hands to put it on but the Sokovian held your wrist to stop you. "What's done is done, so just let me put these on and we're good." You said but she still didn't let go.

"Just like that?" She questioned.

"The mission was a success. If I'd had been there you wouldn't have gotten hurt, that's all."

"You were really mad though." She continued and you put your hands down to rest them, not failing to notice that Wanda was still holding your wrist but with a much lighter grip.

"It's hard to stay mad at you." You admitted.

"You've always been mad at me."

"Well it wasn't exactly like you were the friendliest person to me." You pointed out. "I was never mad at you, Wanda. I just hated that... that you made me feel something I've never trusted, so I didn't trust you. It was never your fault, I was unfair." You admitted as you stared down at the tape the whole time, afraid to meet the redhead's eyes.

"What did you feel?" Wanda asked, her voice void of emotion making it more difficult for you to say. You gulped as you continued to stare at the tape, willing yourself to give Wanda the answer she needed. The answer she deserved.

"Love." You voice shook. "I loved... love you." You were shaking more as you finally looked up at Wanda. Her eyes were wide and her lips slightly parted like there was a million thoughts trying to be heard but without the ability to.

She didn't say anything for a while. A long while. She stared at you in disbelief then at her pillow as though it would give her all the answers.

Tears rushed to your eyes that you tried to blink away as your head swam with curses to yourself for admitting your feelings. You had opened up and been vulnerable to Wanda, and the result was the exact reason you had sworn to never do it again.

Once you were sure she wasn't going to say anything to you, you took it as your cue to leave. To leave so Wanda could prepare her rejection speech for you. However, as soon as you put your hand to the door she spoke out.

"Please don't go."

You turned around slowly and met her light brown eyes you had always found impossible not to get lost in when you had your fingers or tongue inside her. You timidly went back to the bed and paused before sitting down next to her, facing the wall instead of her this time.

"I thought it was one sided." She started and you felt yourself begin to shake with nerves again. "I thought you didn't love me back." You looked to Wanda quickly and searched her features for any signs of a lie, any signs that she was setting you up to push you down but she was gazing back at you longingly with tears glistening in her eyes.

"When you confronted me about the mission, I was going to say it then, you knew that." You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded, remembering the fear you felt in that moment.

"I wasn't ready, I thought I wouldn't ever be but," You took a deep breath "I want to try, for you." You took ahold of Wanda's hand to reiterate your point. "I care about you too Wanda, so much. More than I could ever express or even handle and I didn't know what to do about it. I mean we've tried a fair few things now," You both laughed a little, "but it I don't think any of them are going to work as well as accepting it and...and I don't know." You looked to her for guidance because fuck did you need it. You needed Wanda to guide you down whatever path you chose to take, as long as she was there with you.

"Maybe we could start with something small." She suggested with a small smile that made her eyes shine.

"Like a coffee date?" You tried.

"Exactly like that." She confirmed, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Then I'll pick you up around 2." You said cheesily making Wanda laugh. "But first, I have to finish tending to this cut." You declared as you turned around to face her entirely and crossed your legs under you, pausing for a moment to give Wanda a short and sweet kiss.

[adlbeay]

I wanted to talk about the themes in the Walk in the Dust event. The story of Arknights has always had a high level of thematic consistency, but it’s especially prominent in this event. I feel like a lot of the discussion of the story in certain places comes down to “lore” and surface-level plot details, so I wanted to get this out there somewhere.

The two big ideas that are covered in Walk in the Dust are that of revenge and the homeland. Let's talk about revenge first. Long post and story spoilers under the cut.

In the beginning, we are introduced to Elliot, aka Passenger, who by the time we meet him, is an aimless husk of a man. He is utterly empty inside despite being the most powerful figure in the Reefsteep black  market, with vast wealth and political influence under his thumb. Having completed his decades-long quest to slay everyone who was involved in betraying his teacher, he has no more goals for his life. After killing  the Lord Ameer of Ibut, the last of his targets, he realizes that the revenge he had been pursuing was ultimately empty, that the weapons he built and the schemes he engineered to that end no longer moved him. Even the death of the Lord Ameer didn't matter one bit in the political landscape of Sargon.

As for the Sargon army... We live in different times now. The ruling  Padishahs simply care not about what is happening here in this barren  wasteland. My guess is that it matters not to them whether it's the  father or the son that's in charge. Actually, to tell the truth, it  hardly matters to me either.

Ultimately, no one cared if the Lord Ameer was murdered or simply  died in an accident, not even Elliot himself. Sargon continues to be exploited by the Columbian military and the ruling Lords. Professor Thorne remains dead. His research, once entrusted to Elliot to prevent  it from becoming a weapon of war, has nonetheless been used by Elliot  himself to bring even more death. Now, 22 years later, Passenger sees  finding Kal'tsit as his only path to salvation, so that she can once  again give him a purpose like she did when she rescued him the first time.

Folinic's mom, Lillia, also shares the same kind of story. Her husband was killed in Chernobog when the count decided to purge the researchers working on the sarcophagus device. Among the children of the families broken up by this incident are Lyudmila (later Crownslayer), Alex and Misha (later Skullshatterer), and Luisa (later Folinic). Lillia finds Kal'tsit after months of searching, intending to take revenge on  Grand Duke Vanya not just for her husband, but also for Luisa, who never got to know her father because of it. Kal'tsit tries to talk her out of  it, even during the final phases of the plan, but Lillia's mind is set.  She entrusts Kal'tsit with taking care of both Luisa and Lyudmila, as  she knows she won't be able to come back to live a normal life after  this. And... she succeeds. Although it is Kal'tsit who ultimately administered the poison, their plan works flawlessly and Duke Vanya is finally dead.

Except it still ended up being completely meaningless. The Grand Duke was in a glorified nursing home already near the end of his life, and if Kal'tsit didn't kill him then some other conspirator from the Ursus  political backstage would have done it anyway. He was already crippled and blind, and as we find out during the confrontation with the Emperor's Blade, even Kal'tsit only agreed to Lillia's plan because it  defused the conspiracies of other powerful figures who would have used  the Duke's death to spark another rebellion. The only thing that Lillia ended up accomplishing was making sure that Louisa would grow up without both a mother and a father, and Lyudmila would never get the answers she really wanted about her family's death. And, although she ended up not doing it, she was even also planning to go back to Chernobog to kill  Sergei, Alex and Misha's father, for his betrayal.

And this carries on through the future outside the event. Crownslayer ends up joining Reunion because she thinks it will give her the answers  she wants and avenge her father. Folinic almost lets her anger at Atro's death get her into a confrontation with Wolumonde. In the end, Crownslayer is stopped by Kal'tsit and Folinic is calmed down by  Suzuran, but we might be able to imagine what would have happened if  they managed to carry out their vengeance.

The theme of homeland is one that's intrinsically tied to Kal'tsit and has at least a bit of relation to the broader story outside of the event. It's harder to talk about since it's not clearly  split into individual stories like previously, but there's at least one character that exemplifies this theme the most: Old Isin.

Old Isin is appropriately to his name, old as rocks. He remembers being a servant to some lord of a long-lost city that very few even know once existed, and spends his time telling fortunes while trying to seek out people who, like him, also share that past. According to Kal'tsit, the city's people were scattered when it was destroyed, and now only Isin even remembers the origin of the name "Reefsteep". Even then, Isin only has vague memories, and believes it to be his unforgivable sin that  he has forgotten so much about the city.

Old Isin originally helps Kal'tsit and Elliot because he hopes that  she can help him remember about the lost city, and thus absolve his  "unforgivable sin". And Kal'tsit indeed does help him. Isin begins to recall the conquests of armies a thousand years ago, something even with  his age he should not have been a part of, much less remembered.  Kal'tsit dispels the illusions clouding his memory, and reveals that  what Isin remembers is only the stories that the padishah recounted to  him, that the glory of his old city was only a memory of another memory. In truth, the city in Old Isin's memory was merely a stepping stone for the padishah's ambition to conquer the uncharted deserts, and was abandoned just as easily when that campaign failed. His homeland's glory was just an illusion created in his mind by the padishah's charisma.

Which brings us to the Emperor's Blade. Wherever he stands is the dominion of the Empire of Ursus. Whatever he does carries out the Ursus Emperor's will. Or at least, that's how the Royal Guards imagine themselves, single-handedly carrying out their homeland's legacy. Kal'tsit lays it out clearly:

Kal'tsit: Tell me, what does the current Ursus Emperor think of the Pine Valley affair? Or do you mean to tell me the seeds of that uprising, the origins of the crisis were all the will of the Emperor? Feel free to keep deceiving yourself, but the truth is the young emperor is unaware of the events that transpired there. You believe he has no  need to know. You... all of you seek a bygone era. You are just caught up in the former emperor's grand vision!

As does Patriot in Chapter 8:

Patriot: I fought with your fathers. Your strength and tactical acumen are no less impressive than theirs. But you look at the Ursus of those times with rose-colored glasses. What you see is nothing more than your wild fantasies.

The Royal Guards are described in not too unclear words as soldiers  who probably believed too much of their own grandiose affect. They are unparalleled fighters, to be sure, but it isn't hard to infer that those words about executing Ursus's will and each Royal Guard being his own nation are words intended to strike fear into their enemies rather than  statements of any real truth. Indeed, if you know anything about the internal politics of Ursus, the idea of "Ursus's own will" can be seen as more of a nostalgia at a bygone era when Ursus was, or at least seemed, united in conquest under the previous Emperor. The perceived glory of their homeland is what motivates the Emperor's Blade, but like with Old Isin, the truth behind it is shaky at best.

We also have the contrast between the retired veteran at Pine Valley  and Grand Duke Vanya. While talking to Witte, the veteran cuts off one of his own fingers, claiming that the scars he has suffered in Ursus's wars, once considered symbols of his glory and honor, were ultimately meaningless, and he wants this self-inflicted wound to be his only legacy to Ursus. At the same time, the Grand Duke is postulating about how the seeds he had sown in the winter would give birth to beautiful flowers. Even though his actions and the crimes he committed never bore fruition, he is convinced even in death that Ursus's soil will bloom.

The issue of a real or imagined homeland, and its loss, is also  shared by the Sarkaz as a whole not only in this story but in the main story and many other events. It's even arguable that Rhodes Island's mission to help the Infected was originally inherited from Babel's goal of establishing a stable homeland for the Sarkaz. After all, as pointed  out in many places, the Infected and Sarkaz share much of the same discrimination.

Sarkaz Mercenary: Home...? How could us devils... us Infected possibly have one... Kal'tsit: The Sarkaz have tried to rebuild 'Kazdel', their home for centuries, though they have never succeeded. Everyone has a different idea as to what the term 'homeland' means, but as it stands right now,  Kazdel is perhaps as close as you can get to the term's original meaning.

And in Twilight of Wolumonde:

Armed Infected: We’re going home? To what home?

Mudrock: Kazdel. There may be no place for Sarkaz outside of Kazdel.  But in Kazdel, there is a place for you. Not because of tolerance. But because there is... nothing there. Kazdel... is where the homeless go. A land of rootless people.

So what does all this have to do with Kal'tsit?

In the ending cutscene, Passenger asks Kal'tsit whether this "Rhodes  Island" is yet another passing persona to be used to accomplish a goal and discarded when it's complete. Like the persona of the Trusted  Advisor, or the Servant, or the Laterano Cleric, will she abandon Rhodes  Island as well? Kal'tsit initially puts up a front saying he has no  right to ask, then bluffs about having thousands of answers, but is pushed by Passenger saying he'll even accept a lie. In one of the only times we get to see Kal'tsit faltering, she actually has no answer to this.

Unlike the other characters we see throughout the story, Kal'tsit has no homeland. No matter how fake or illusory it is, Old Isin and the Royal Guard have something to believe about a place where they can belong. The nobles in Victoria, as incompetent as they appear from the outside, are dedicated to defending the peace of their home despite having no ruler. Even the ostracized Sarkaz can ultimately go back to Kazdel, as unpleasant as that might be. But while Kal'tsit wanders the earth to keep the homelands of others from falling into chaos, she has no homeland of her own to go back to.

In one of the trailers for Chapter 9, we hear a recording from Theresa, addressed to Kal'tsit: "I hope this Rhodes Island can be a place to call home, a place you can always return to."

[robininthelabyrinth]

Curse-breaker (Chapter 2/4)

- ao3 -

“If you can’t find him, that means it’s not meant to be,” the Nie sect leader said, and perhaps looked a little relieved somewhere beneath the grim scowl that had replaced the easygoing smile he had once had. “Let it be, then. Only…”

“Yes, Sect Leader?”

“I want our borders shut,” he said, his gaze distant, his hands tucked behind his back in stiffest formality. “Let no cultivator pass through; no scion or servant of any other sect, large or small.”

“Sect Leader…?”

“I don’t care what it does to our reputation,” he said, voice flat. “I don’t care if it hurts our commerce, makes everyone laugh at us as cowards – I don’t care about anything like that. That he’s well enough to evade us does not mean he is out of danger. If anyone else should find out…”

He shook his head.

“I have failed him enough already. I will not do so again.” He turned his head to stare at his subordinates. “Shut it down. All of it!”

They saluted, and went to enact his will.

-

Lan Wangji hadn’t been especially impressed with the Nie sect at first.

They were loud and constantly moving yet also guarded and standoffish, as if they couldn’t decide if they wanted people to pay attention to them or to leave them alone. He initially had thought it was arrogance the same way as the Jin sect, wanting to be looked at without wanting to admit it, but after some observation he’d realized that it really wasn’t like that at all. It was a little more, he thought, that they were naturally outgoing and extroverted, innately social in nature, and had to keep reminding themselves that they actually didn’t like any other people.

Certainly that was the impression the Nie sect heir gave off.

Nie Huaisang was Lan Wangji’s age, but he was much less accomplished – he talked a lot, smiled a lot, was a lot, and yet Lan Wangji didn’t think he’d ever actually said a single thing that really mattered. Lan Wangji hadn’t thought much about Nie Huaisang at all other than gritting his teeth and acting as his escort on the Nie sect’s first visit to another sect in years and years, thinking that if Nie Huaisang was any example, the Nie sect’s fearsome reputation for being as straight and unsubtle as their sabers was all a bunch of nonsense. Maybe he would have gone on thinking that, too, except that on the fourth day of their visit he discovered that Nie Huaisang listened as well as talked.

“I’m sorry,” Nie Huaisang said at one point, smiling. “Could you repeat that?”

Lan Wangji hadn’t really been paying attention, and he certainly hadn’t been speaking – he looked at Nie Huaisang in askance, wondering if he’d accidentally said something he wasn’t aware of.

“Your father,” Nie Huaisang clarified, and Lan Wangji tensed. “How often is he in seclusion?”

Lan Wangji frowned, cautious – that was a secret, of course, one of the family secrets. Everything behind what happened with his parents was secret. “Quite often,” he temporized. “He’s trying to focus on his cultivation –”

“That wasn’t what I asked,” Nie Huaisang said, cheerfully cutting him off without making it seem like he was doing that. “My da-ge says that he heard from – from somewhere, anyway, that he wasn’t just in seclusion often but always. He says that your father hasn’t used his sword in years, leaving it to rust on the wall, betraying all his old principles of swordsmanship.”

Lan Wangji bristled, thinking that it was an insult, but Nie Huaisang was looking at him, face open and sincere and, for once, serious, and looking over his words Lan Wangji had to admit there was more truth to it than lies. And wasn’t his uncle always saying do not tell lies?

“It’s not his choice,” he said, trying to defend it even as he wondered who was the da-ge that Nie Huaisang was referring to, since he was supposed to be the only heir of Qinghe Nie. “He has to be there, because of –”

He stopped.

“Because of what?” Nie Huaisang asked. His eyes were too sharp, too knowing, and suddenly Lan Wangji was sure he already knew. “Because of the broken sword buried under his house?”

“…my mother’s,” Lan Wangji said, and knew that he had admitted too much.

Except maybe keeping secrets the way he was supposed to wasn’t actually what he was supposed to do, because Nie Huaisang nodded and said, “My da-ge wouldn’t like that.”

Then he went back to his father and said something about how his da-ge wouldn’t approve of what was going on and the next thing Lan Wangji knew, Sect Leader Nie was striding through the Cloud Recesses with a terrifying scowl, going straight up to the house where Lan Wangji’s father was in seclusion and tearing the door right off the hinges.

“She’s dead already,” he bellowed, voice echoing right down the bones. “You should save your care for the living, or else you’ll blink and next thing they’ll be gone. Gone right along with the dead you’ve already lost. Don’t you dare throw away your chance the way I did!”

After that, all of a sudden, Lan Wangji had a father again.

-

“There are rumors, you know,” Lan Xichen said.

He was having tea in the garden in the small teahouse just outside of the Nie sect lands in Qinghe, the place where the Nie sect usually received its visitors now that the Unclean Realm and most of its surrounding environs were shut off from the world by fiercely patrolling guards. He was with Nie Huaisang, who barely stopped talking, and Lan Wangji, who almost never started; ever since the day old Sect Leader Nie had forced Qingheng-jun out of seclusion and back into the world, they had been the most unlikely pair of best friends he could have ever imagined. Whenever they were together, they fit together like two improbable puzzle pieces that should never have been separated.

When he was with them, Lan Xichen always felt a little lost, a little alone – like there was someone else that should have been there, too, someone who fit with him just right the way they fit together.

Perhaps, he thought, reflecting on what he had heard, there really should have been.

“About what?” Nie Huaisang inquired politely.

“The Unclean Realm,” Lan Xichen said, even though that was obvious there’d be rumors about that – there’d been people trying to sneak into there ever since it had been locked down, even though the Nie sect had announced that they’d imposed orders permitting any trespassers to be killed on sight, no excuses allowed. It hadn’t made that much of a difference; everyone wanted to know what they were hiding. “The – inheritance thereof.”

“Oh?” Nie Huaisang fanned himself lightly. “How interesting. What do the rumors say?”

“That you have an older brother,” Lan Xichen said, and noted with interest that neither Nie Huaisang nor Lan Wangji seemed surprised. “That he’s the real heir of Qinghe Nie. And that he’s…”

“That he’s what?”

“Subject to a curse,” Lan Xichen said, feeling bashful for even saying such a thing. It sounded like a children’s story told in the nighttime, not like anything a cultivator ought to be speaking of.

Except Nie Huaisang smiled a little, his eyes curving into crescents in a grim sort of humor, and he said, “Well, they’re not wrong.”

-

“I trust that this is an illustration of the reason we have rules against spreading rumors,” Lan Qiren said mildly, and noted that Nie Huaisang looked thoroughly abashed for once.

It didn’t happen very often: Nie Huaisang was in many ways utterly shameless, as shameless as his father had always been. As shameless as his mother, who Lan Qiren had met only twice, had been when in search of a snack, and given that woman’s force of personality (and, for that matter, appetite), that was saying something.

“I wasn’t expecting them to start talking about breaking the curse,” Nie Huaisang said bitterly. “I didn’t mean a curse like – like a kid’s story, or something! I just meant, you know…”

The qi deviations, he did not say.

“It could be seen as a curse, if you look at it in the right light,” Lao Nie agreed. He didn’t seem especially perturbed by the fact that his son’s conversation with Lan Xichen had been overheard and then spread out everywhere, nor that the secret of his eldest son’s improbable survival was being gossiped about all over the cultivation world. “It’s quite a reasonable way to describe it, really.”

Lan Qiren shot his old friend a frown. “I trust you’ve heard the rest of it, too?” he asked tartly. “They’re saying that you’d let the entirety of the Qinghe Nie go to whoever succeeded in breaking the ‘curse’.”

“Who says I won’t?” Lao Nie asked, and Lan Qiren turned to him fully to stare: he couldn’t be serious.

Lao Nie caught his glance and shook his head, and in the light he didn’t look grim and angry, the way he always was these days; he looked tired, and sad, and broken. “Oh, I’m quite serious, my friend,” he said. “If someone could bring me back my son, I would give them my head off my shoulders in a heartbeat.”

He was speaking hypothetically, Lan Qiren knew, and yet – with a sinking sensation in his heart – he knew, too, that they weren’t sitting somewhere as secret as he would have liked for a conversation like this. He knew that others had probably heard what Lao Nie had said, and instead of understanding that he was expressing regret for what had happened to his son, they would think…

Well.

They’d think a lot of things.

“Think of your health, instead of your death,” Lan Qiren finally said, shaking his head. He’d been helping Lao Nie for years now, fighting a rearguard action against Lao Nie’s own inevitable qi deviation, trying to win enough time for Nie Huaisang to grow up old enough to take over properly, but it was getting harder each visit, the treatment less effective, the healing slower.

It would not be too long now.

“They’re the same thing,” Lao Nie said, shaking his head. “I should have lost my life years ago, instead of losing him his…it’s been so long, Qiren. Every day I wake up is a day I live for him, not for me – living the way he would want me to, doing what he’d approve of. It’s the least I could do. If someone could bring him back to me…someone, anyone, anyone at all…”

His gaze was distant, and sad. Terribly sad.

“What Qinghe Nie? What Unclean Realm? What inheritance?” he finally said.  “There’s nothing I wouldn’t give for that. Nothing at all.”

-

Wen Ruohan was the first.

For some reason, Lao Nie hadn’t been expecting that, though perhaps he should have – the reason he’d first started liking Wen Ruohan so much all those years ago was purely because of how shameless the man was, arrogant and careless of the world in the way only the truly dangerous could be. He’d liked that aspect of his back then, and when he wasn’t lying to himself, he knew he liked it still.

But this?

This was too far.

“How dare you?” he roared, and there was a red haze over his vision of the sort that he knew boded extremely ill for his long-term health. “My Unclean Realm is closed – do you think that you would be welcome? You, of all people?”

Wen Ruohan had forced his way right up to their gate, bringing with him a small retinue rather than the invasion force Lao Nie’s elders were always a little concerned about. As a result, he was now surrounded, surrounded and outnumbered, but he did not seem afraid.

Detestable man.

Lao Nie hated him now. He hated him as much as he’d once liked him.

He hated that he couldn’t hate him more.

“I’m here about the curse,” Wen Ruohan said, and Lao Nie stared at him, utterly speechless. “You did say ‘anyone at all’.”

“You want Qinghe Nie?” Lao Nie asked blankly, though of course he would – Wen Ruohan’s ambitions to take over the entire cultivation world were hardly secret. No, even if that was the first thing that came to his lips, Wen Ruohan’s blatant overreaching wasn’t actually what surprised him.

No, what surprised him was –

“You know it’s not a curse,” he said.

“I do,” Wen Ruohan said, and when he lifted his eyes to meet Lao Nie’s, Lao Nie was surprised to find them bloodshot. Not the familiar sort, the qi deviations of rage the way all Nie sect leaders went eventually, but rather a sort that was even more common than that.

Grief. Sorrow. Guilt.

Regret.

That last one was a word Lao Nie would previously have put money on Wen Ruohan not knowing.

“You said ‘anyone at all’,” Wen Ruohan said again, and it occurred to Lao Nie that that was the part that Wen Ruohan had quoted, the part he was stressing: not the inheritance, not There’s nothing I wouldn’t give, but just that. Anyone at all, Lao Nie had said, and he’d meant it, too. Anyone at all meant anyone.

Even Wen Ruohan.

“Since when do you care?” Lao Nie asked. “You were the one who did it.”

“I did it,” Wen Ruohan admitted. “I was angry at you. I’ve been angry at you for years. I thought I’d cleansed myself of all feeling before you dug the heart out of me, and yet you treated me lightly, giving me only as much of yourself as you wished. I thought that if I could only get rid of you, I could seal my heart up again and be none the worse for it.”

“You would’ve gone mad,” Lao Nie said, feeling irritable. “I told you time and time again, the path of clarity is a dead end. No man can live without feeling emotions. Sorrow may try to trick you into thinking it’s preferable, but in the end...”

Wen Ruohan smiled, humorless. “Sorrow can be very convincing. But that’s not what you asked – you wanted to know why I was here.”

Lao Nie crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, then?”

“You’re still here,” Wen Ruohan said. “My heart is not dead. And I – I nearly murdered a child.”

That brother of his, Lao Nie thought, and he understood.

But what good would his understanding do?

“I have to try to fix it,” Wen Ruohan said. No, not said – he was nearly begging. “Lao Nie, you said anyone. I did it, I acknowledge it. I was wrong. I regret. Let me have a chance to try to fix it.”

“There’s no fixing it,” Lao Nie said, and turned away. “You ran a fool’s errand, Hanhan. He’s not even here.”

[arrowflier]

oh my god your xmen au!! i've just recently thought about them having powers and ian should def be a healer ❤️

it's so good, i'd love for you to continue or like... do another mutant au (same setting but later? im not picky haha)

as always, your writing is truly amazing!

Yeeesss thank you thank you thank you. I've been wanting to so bad but I'm already neglecting all my WIPs so I needed this excuse.

For everyone else, original here. I'm also tagging this for A.U.gust (hosted by the amazing @gallavichthings) because their professions are inspired by prompts 7 and 19.

---

Ian was crouched over a client, hands flat on a wrinkled and twisted back, when Mickey fell through the door.

Ian stiffened, and not just because his gift was working on the man stretched out on the table in front of him. Mickey attempted to straighten himself on the coat rack by the door, but only succeeded in knocking it over, hands slick with blood.

Not his own, by the looks of it, and that was the only reason Ian kept working.

“What’s that racket?” his client croaked, trying to lift his head, but Ian pressed harder and pushed his gift deeper into the man’s muscles, forcing his neck to relax.

Ian winced as his own neck tensed further, but forced his head straight so he could watch as Mickey stumbled through the room before finally collapsing onto a chair. His head was down, but Ian could see faint streaks of red at his hairline, glistening in his dark hair when he ran a shaky hand through it. The spikes on his shoulders, exposed by a tear in his black shirt, lay flat and weak and similarly wet against his pale skin.

Ian swallowed hard, and removed his hands from the body in front of him.

“You’re done,” Ian rasped, waiting for the usual weariness and weakness to fade. He rubbed his eyes with a hand that felt more gnarled than it was, and grimaced. His eyelids felt like sandpaper.

“That’s it?” his client asked. They weren’t one of his usuals, just someone that heard about him from a friend. Ian tried to accept new clients where he could, especially those that found him by word of mouth—there wasn’t much else he could do in the way of advertising without a license or registration for his unorthodox mutation.

“That’s it,” Ian confirmed, and tapped the edge of the table impatiently, waiting for the man to get up and leave. He should be perfectly capable of that sort of movement for at least a few days, if he didn’t do anything too stupid with his newfound physical freedom.

“I heard you offer…other services,” the old man said slyly, twisting to look at Ian as he sat up and swung his legs toward the floor. “For a price, of course,” he added, smiling like he knew something.

Clearly, he did not.

“No anymore,” Ian answered shortly. “And never for patrons of your type.”

“Of my type?” the man repeated, voice now rising with suppressed anger. “And what does that mean, you mutant scum?”

“Means he don’t like wrinkly old man balls no more,” Mickey called out from across the room, and Ian had never been so grateful to hear his rough voice, despite what it was saying.

“It doesn’t,” he assured his client. “I mean, I don’t, but—”

“No need to explain, boy,” his client stated—probably ex-client now, and Ian should really feel worse about watching him leave.

Instead, he held his breath until the door slammed behind that narrow, weak back, and then immediately darted over to throw the bolt.

Room secured, Ian took a moment to breathe, in and out, as the last of the other man’s fatigue finally left him.

“You gonna stand there all night?” Mickey asked, somewhat quieter, behind him. “Or are you gonna come patch me up, doc?”

Ian turned to see Mickey struggling to rise from his seat, and was there in a few long strides to push him down again with a firm hand on his shoulder. Mickey hissed as Ian rubbed his spikes the wrong way, but let himself be secured.

Without thinking about it, Ian stroked his hand down, following those dangerous barbs along the length of Mickey’s bare arm. He wasn’t worried about them; he had seen firsthand the danger they could do, throughout the years, but never had Mickey harmed him.

Well, at least not without reason.

And he had clearly come to Ian for a different reason, this time. It had been a few weeks since they’d seen each other, and in that time Mickey had apparently found someone new to piss off, judging by the blood on his spikes. Someone that didn’t already know all his tricks.

“You have to stop doing this,” Ian said accusingly, gesturing at Mickey in general, and the other man snorted, then winced when it opened a cut on his face.

“Define ‘this’,” he challenged, and Ian shrugged.

“Picking fights, I guess,” he answered. “I know you have that new gig at the bar, security or whatever—”

“Bodyguard, doc, it’s a little more impressive—”

“But you don’t always have to jump straight to violence.”

“Why” Mickey asked, quirking a bleeding eyebrow. “I’m paid to be a badass, Gallagher, and you always fix me up just fine.”

Ian shook his head, eyes scanning for the worst of Mickey’s injuries. Thankfully, they were few—a slowly seeping gash at his hairline, the source of the blood about to drip into his blue eyes; an oddly bent finger; a patch of quills at the base of his neck that looked nearly torn out, like someone had gotten hold before Mickey flexed them.

“It’s the principle of the thing,” Ian insisted absently, trailing his fingers from Mickey’s shoulder to his neck, to his face, heedless of the red trail they left on pale skin.

“Please,” Mickey scoffed, bending his head obediently when Ian pushed it back for better light. “The principle is that you like havin’ an excuse to get your hands on me.”

“Could get my hands on you anyway,” Ian mused, digging his fingers roughly into Mickey’s hair as if to prove a point.

Mickey hissed, but smirked through it.

“Oh yeah?” he questioned lightly. “Think I'm that easy, huh?”

“Know you’re that easy,” Ian murmured, leaning in closer than he strictly needed to to finish surveying the damage.

Mickey blinked, eyes only inches away from Ian’s own.

“Get those healin’ hands on me then,” he breathed, and Ian didn’t bother to point out that they already were.

Instead, he moved one hand over the scratch on Mickey’s scalp, one hand to the damaged quills on his neck, and his mouth to Mickey’s bottom lip.

And he reached inside himself for his power, and pushed.

They both gasped, deepening the sudden kiss almost by accident as Ian’s power coursed through them, between them. Mickey’s cuts started to heal even as they opened on Ian’s skin, quills bristling and growing strong again as tiny pinpricks of red showed on Ian’s own neck.

Let go of her, Ian heard in his mind, Mickey’s voice ordering some creep to release the girl he was trying to carry from the club.

I’m just gettin her home, man

Thin fingers reach for Mickey’s jacket, Ian’s jacket, their jacket. Grasp the hem, tug faintly, fall again on a limp arm.

I don’t fuckin’ think so

Pain in his fists, then pain on his back as someone else joins the fight, someone Ian can’t see. Sharp fingernails in his hair, on his neck, gripping, twisting.

A flare. Quills puffing from their sleek layer against warm skin, finding their target. The slippery wet feeling of blood on his shoulders, wetting them down again.

Okay, it’s okay now as frail hands grasp at him again to stand straight. Come on, it’s okay.

Ian’s hands fell from Mickey’s wounds as the last ones finally closed. He ignored the wetness in his eyes, the wetness on Mickey’s face, pretended they were blood and not tears.

“You did good,” he whispered against Mickey’s searching lips. “So good, Mickey.”

“Shut up, doc,” Mickey murmured back. “Give me something different to feel good about.”

So Ian did.

He kissed him again. Bit his lip, licked it clean. Ran a finger over the indentation, felt the bite on his own mouth as he soothed it. He scratched at Mickey’s back, didn’t recall when it was bared, felt hot lines down his own and couldn’t tell if they came from Mickey’s dirty hands or his own neatly trimmed nails.

It was always like this, when it happened. A feedback loop, not knowing where he stopped and Mickey began as they hurt and healed and hurt again. Hurt in good ways rather than bad, ways they had been hurting and helping each other since they were just children in a schoolyard chasing bullies. Ian lost himself in it, lost himself in Mickey’s mouth and eyes and skin and his own touches upon it, a constant blooming sensation deep in the reserves of his power.

He wondered what it felt like for Mickey, but then he didn’t have to. He never had to. He could feel that too: the tug of quills pushed the wrong way, the press of them into skin at both point and base, the prickling sensation when they settled, flared, settled again within sensitive skin and muscle.

But they never stabbed on purpose. They never hurt more than he could take; than they could take. And as he let Mickey stand, let him walk Ian back toward the bedroom on newly strengthened legs, Ian embraced all the feelings it invoked in the both of them.

Tomorrow, Mickey would most likely leave again, possibly even before breakfast. He would go back to his job, the one Ian didn’t like, and work and live and thrive until he needed Ian again.

It would feel worse, that separation, if Ian couldn’t feel the truth in every movement they made against each other in the night.

Mickey didn’t need Ian to fix him up; he never had. He had been doing fine on his own long before they met.

No, Mickey didn’t come to Ian because he liked to pick fights. He picked fights because he liked to come to Ian, and for now, that was enough.

[imaginationofacrazyfangirl]

Plotlines of BTS Music Videos According to My Drunk Ass

Just to be clear I am not promoting drinking to minors or anything like that. Plus I am of age so whatever.

Music Video 1: Fire

Let’s just put it out there that the whole plot of the music video is about a group of hooligans causing trouble around their neighbor hood. Moreover it starts with them and the reader hanging out at the town’s youth center. Supposedly they all (except Jimin) have grown up together, learning how to survive the streets and deal with the shit life’s thrown at them.

Now onto the key characters:

Min Yoongi: The badass gangster who enjoys causing chaos and mischief. He’s the one who creates the most drama by actively engaging in criminal activities simply for the fun of it. He constantly tags buildings and picks fights with other people. Think of it this way: Yoongi is the one everyone watches out for, because he has no problem meeting a pipe to your face.

  That said naturally his character is rather antagonistic and anti-social as well. While he does care about the members of his group, Hoseok is the only one he truly trusts to let in. Moreover his relationship with the reader is that of an older brother who finds their sibling annoying so they constantly bully them; that said anyone who messes with you better watch the fuck out. You are his pest after all.

Jung Hoseok: The brotherly bad boy who has way too much fun being naughty. Both Yoongi and J-hope share one thing in common, they enjoy being bad boys. However while Yoongi leans more towards apathetic chaos, J-hope merely enjoys the thrill and status comes along with the title. He is the type to cause trouble when others are watching or his friends are there, but never the one to plan it. Honestly Hoseok is a bit of a ladies man always bragging about his reputation to impress, but really he does that to everyone.

  He’s officially the group’s hype man. The one everyone trusts immensely, because at the end of the day what Hoseok is really proud of is his family (you guys) and does everything he can to protect/make you guys happy. Like Yoongi, Hoseok acts as a big brother figure towards. Unlike Yoongi, he’s always thrilled to see you.

Jeon Jungkook: The innocent newbie corrupted by his “big brothers,” probably rather self-explanatory. As the youngest Jungkook wasn’t around when the group started (the group being you and the Maknae line). In fact he’s the latest addition to the neighborhood, moving there with either his single mother or foster parents. At first the poor boy is so out of place in the neighborhood dealing with life and constantly bullies, it only adds to his misfortune that you meet him. Yes, you the reader can be blamed for introducing Jungkook into thug life (lol thug life); not purposefully of course you simply saw the baby bunny and took him under your wing. If anything you try to protect him, while keeping Jungkook away from all the trouble.

     To Jungkook, you are the mother/older sister figure he has never had. He cares deeply for you, practically following you around like a lost duckling. However Jungkook also idolizes the others and wishes to become like them. Thus, causing him to get into trouble.

Kim Namjoon: The muscles-first off let me say how sorry I am for this. Joon is legit my ultimate basis and the smartest of them all yet he plays the meathead in this plotline. Why? Oh god why? I don’t know, but he does.

   Namjoon is the second member of the group no one wants to piss off. Not because of any sociopathic tendencies like Yoongi, but because Namjoon punches harder than the six of them combined. He’s literally the armored shield that steps in between members and those who threaten them. Now I don’t have as much facts on him as the others, but I can say this: Namjoon is a follower not a leader here, and like Yoongi, he find you annoying-although he is less antagonistic about than other is. Also like Yoongi, he’ll beat the living shit out of anyone who messes with you.

Kim Taehyung: The introverted computer genius who prefers technology over people. In this plotline our bubbly Tae, plays an awkward anti-social computer genius who really doesn’t know how to interact with people on a massive level. Remember that character in tv shows, that is friends with everyone despite having odd tendencies and never leaving home? Well, that Taehyung. He spends most of his days playing computer or videogames, only to occasionally come up with some genius deceive or program that helps the group out. To outsiders, he’s a freak, but to the group he’s their family and no one mess with family.

    While Taehyung barely interacts with the others, the one person he does interact with is the reader. This is mainly because of your caring nature and patience. Out of everyone, you more than anyone accept his quirks. Which is why he has such a crush on you. Sadly our poor Tae won’t make the cut in this plotline.

Park Jimin: The stereotypical prep who pays the group to join them in their mischief. Now we are getting close to the heart of the story. Although not the antagonist of the plotline, Jimin definitely gets the ball rolling by bribing you guys into letting him join the group for a week or two. This boy is literally that rich kid rolling around in daddy’s money, but find life a bore. Like many others he idolizes the trouble you get into and wants in on that bad boy life. Initially he annoys everyone, but by some miracle he actually manages join by earning your guys’ trust somehow.

  Note you and him have an especially rocky relationship at first, thanks to his flirty ‘I’m hot’ attitude. To him, you are different from all the other girls. You are from the other side of the track making you a forbidden fruit. To you, he’s just a moron who doesn’t realize how good he has it.

Kim Seokjin: Ex-leader gone Captain America, he is the definition of bad boy gone good. Once the esteemed leader of your group of misfits, Jin now finds himself determined to move away from crime and go to college by playing sports. He wants to prove to you all, that succeeding in life is a possibility without committing crimes. This goal especially means a lot to him, because Jin sees himself as responsible for everyone in the group .Unfortunately turning over a new leaf has left him alienating the group and in turn getting alienated by them. He constantly struggles between staying on the righteous path and not involving himself in group matters. (Note: he can never stay away when one of you are in danger.)

What’s really interesting about Jin’s character is his relationship with you. Out of everyone in the group you are the one he cares most about. In fact it can be said you are the reason behind his drastic change and determination to leave the neighbor hood. Ironically though that doesn’t mean you understand his actions or reasonings. To you, abandoning everyone is unforgivable and you two often go head to head on your beliefs. In the end however, Jin is the love interest of this plotline.

.........Also they have a band..........

Anyway that was extremely embarrassing to write, but I hope you enjoy my crazy plotlines and let me know if you want to read about the other ones I have.

[wrenhyperfixates]

Loki Odinson’s Guide on How to Woo a Noble

Chapter 2: The Feeling of Friendship

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: Now that Loki made a good first impression, you became fast friends. Determined to get a day out of the palace, you and Loki sneak into the nearby village for some fun. Warnings: fluff, fluff, and fluff (did I mention fluff?) A/N: Just more young Loki and his crush. There’s references to the first chapter in this, but I realized you could probably read it as a oneshot if you really wanted. Anyway, one more chapter to go in my first attempt at a miniseries. As always, my lovely readers, I hope you enjoy :) Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 | Epilogue

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

About a month after that night in the gardens, Loki once again found himself brooding in a tree. This time, however, it had nothing to do with you. Odin had left earlier that morning for a diplomatic mission to Alfheim, taking only one of his sons with him. Needless to say, it wasn’t Loki. The young god couldn’t fathom his father’s decision to bring Thor and not him when his brother was so reckless and brutish. Deep down, Loki knew it was because the Allfather was grooming his eldest to take the throne, but it wasn’t fair. Loki was still in the running to become king, but he’d never win if he wasn’t given the same opportunities as that oaf.

Loki sighed. He was aware of the fact that it wasn’t Thor’s fault he’d been left behind, but he still felt angry at his brother. After all, it was doubtful he spoke up on Loki’s behalf. With nothing else to do, Loki began to practice the latest spell his mother had taught him. Focusing on the energy in the air, he pictured what he wanted to happen. One deep breath later, he’d successfully produced a ball of light in his hand, a trick that would be useful the next time he was sneaking around in the servant passages. The next part was considerably harder to accomplish as it required much more control, but Loki was determined to feel like he was good at something. Slowly, he produced the desired effect, and the light began to pulse in his hands.

“Hey, Loki! Come down here!” you called, pulling him from his fixation on his spell and causing the light to fade away.

“Hello,” he replied, swinging off the branch he was seated on with impressive agility. “How did you know where to find me?”

“Simple. I just followed the pulsating ball of light. Not to mention you seem to have a thing for sitting in trees.”

You both laughed at that, and he felt a light blush color his cheeks. After the stargazing, Loki assumed that you’d be friendly to him when you passed each other in the halls of the palace, but was pleasantly surprised when it went beyond that. You’d begun to actively seek him out and, sure enough, had found him in a tree quite a few times. He wasn’t exactly sure when that habit started. He just knew that it was one of the best places to avoid people. Luckily, you happened to look up often. Or, perhaps, you were specifically searching for him among the twisted branches. Either way, the fact that you initiated conversations gave Loki the confidence to do the same. Soon, walks in the garden became a weekly occurrence. He was certain no one else knew yet, for if they did, it would surely be the subject of much gossip. Not to say that you were actually courting each other, though. It was merely friendship.

“Fair enough, I suppose. Where are you going?” he inquired, noticing the cloak you wore over suspiciously casual clothing.

“I think the better question is where are we going?”

“Ok, fine. You still haven’t answered the question, though,” he persisted as you started off down the path.

“Into town, obviously. Which reminds me, you’ll be needing this.”

You pulled out another cloak from a satchel that was hidden by the flowing cashmere fabric of your own. You were met with a hesitant look from Loki when you held it out to him.

“Are you sure about this? It seems ill-advised that we go out unaccompanied. Besides, that might clash with my outfit,” he mused, examining the cloak.

“Relax. We’ll be fine,” you reassured him. “Plus, the whole point is that we’ll look inconspicuous. No one will even notice what you’re wearing. Not to mention you look good in anything.”

You slapped a hand over your mouth once the words you’d just said registered in your mind. Though you hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud, it was exactly the push Loki needed to agree. Anyway, he never could resist a chance to stir up a little mischief. Walking side-by-side, the two of you made sure to stay quiet as to avoid detection from someone who could stop your plans. Eventually, you reached the wall surrounding the palace, but much to Loki’s confusion, not the part where the gate was.

“You are aware that there is no exit here, correct?” he inquired, though he was certain that you had some trick up your sleeve.

“Haha, very funny. This is where you come into play. Can you magic us out of here?”

Loki frowned for two reasons. For one, he wasn’t confident enough in his ability to get one person to the other side, let alone two. For another, what if that was the only reason you’d invited him to tag along? Not only would that mean you didn’t actually want his company, but he was also positive he’d let you down.

“If that is the only reason you have asked me to come along, I apologize, but I will have to disappoint you. Teleportation is not exactly my strong suit,” he admitted, eyes locked on the ground.

“Loki, gosh, I thought you knew. I seek you out because I like spending time with you. If you’re really not comfortable using your magic, that’s ok,” you consoled him as you stepped closer. “We can figure something else out. I do believe in you, though. All you have to do is get us to the other side of the wall, not into the village or anything like that.”

Loki bit his lip and stole a quick glance at you. He felt ashamed that he’d let his insecurities show to you, of all people. But, ignoring that for a minute, it felt good to hear you say you enjoyed his companionship. And you believed in him and his ability, which was another rare thing. Now, he had practiced teleportation before with some success. Well, that is, if you could count moving two inches as success. The wall before him was, what, nine maybe ten feet? Then he’d have to add an extra foot or two to ensure a safe landing. You were looking at him expectantly, already forming a plan in your mind in case you had to get past the guards.

“I can do it,” Loki decided, shaking out his doubts and squaring his shoulders.

“Perfect!” you squealed in delight. “Ok, let’s do this.”

“Just a couple of things if this is going to work. We need to stand as close to the wall as possible. And well, um, we are going to have to hold hands,” he added sheepishly.

“Oh! I-I mean, yeah. Of course. If that’s uh, a thing that has to happen then, sure. Yeah,” you rambled and looked away as you offered him your hand.

Once you interlocked fingers, Loki grinned at the familiar feeling. It took him right back to that perfect night that had led to this moment. Though he never knew why, Loki had always run on the cold side, so the warmth emanating from your palm was extremely welcome. He offered you a shy smile, which you returned with an encouraging one. He shut his eyes and furrowed his brows. You were careful not to make a noise, understanding the intense concentration he’d need to accomplish this task, something that he appreciated.

Loki started just as his mother had taught him, picturing the place he was trying to get to. He imagined the lush, green grass on the other side of the obstacle keeping you from your destination. Next, he focused on the distance he needed to travel. Once he had a clear image in his mind, the young god took a deep breath and prepared to complete his most impressive feat to date. That is, if he could actually accomplish it. A gentle feeling of wind passed by him, accompanied by the tingling sensation of his magic.

“Loki! You did it,” you cheered, pulling your hand away from his to throw a hug around his shoulders.

He slowly opened his eyes and embraced you, too. Now that he’d succeeded, he allowed himself to acknowledge the fact that, had he messed up, you could both be dead right now. Needless to say, the thought caused him to shake a little. That was soon replaced, though, when he realized that you were still hugging each other. You must have also noticed because you pulled away and nervously shifted your weight from side to side.

“We should probably get going now,” you said, starting to walk in the direction of the village.

Loki nodded and followed you with a dorky grin on his face. He was starting to be thankful that his father left him in Asgard. Unfortunately, remembering that did sour his mood, but he did his best to hide it. After all, he didn’t want to ruin his time with you. He’d almost entirely forgotten about it by the time you reached the houses on the edge of town. The two of you pulled up the hoods of your cloaks and joined the flow of people in the streets. That was when Loki realized he had no idea what exactly you planned on doing here.

“Well, what now?” he whispered to you, eyes shifting from side to side, expecting to be caught any second.

“Now, we shop! And don’t look so nervous, we’ll be fine.”

Eyes shining with excitement, you grabbed Loki by the wrist and pulled him into the busy marketplace. For once in his life, Loki decided to relax and enjoy himself. Besides, it’s not like anyone would be paying attention to him. As far as they knew, he was just another common kid running around. Granted, he might look a little more lost than anyone else milling in the streets. From the way you expertly navigated in the crowd, Loki could tell this was not the first time you’d been here. It wouldn’t surprise him if you also snuck out when your family spent time in your manor, which was even closer to the village than the palace was.

There were many potent perfumes and scented oils at the booths of the market square, filling the air with their heavenly aromas. They were starting to make Loki’s head feel a little foggy by the time you finally paused in front of a stall that sold candles, examining their wares. You were tapping your chin with the most adorable contemplative look on your face. The way the light was glimmering in your eyes completely transfixed Loki for a minute before he regained his senses and pointedly looked away before you could catch him staring. It was then that an item at the next booth over grabbed his attention.

“I will just be over there for a second,” he informed you, pointing at his destination.

“Ok, I’ll be done here in a minute. Don’t get lost without me,” you teased.

After squeezing through the mob of people that separated the two booths, Loki stopped and got the attention of the clerk.

“I would like that bracelet please, my good sir,” he said, gesturing to the one he wanted.

It was a thin gold band that, upon closer inspection, was designed as a snake with its tail in its mouth. A single emerald that served as the eye of the serpent was set in the medal. It was as if it was made for the sole purpose of Loki being able to present it to you. Unfortunately, the salesman did not share the same point of view.

“I’m sure you would, sonny, but how ’bout we find something more in your price range.”

He laughed then and gestured to the brightly colored, obviously cheap jewelry made of beads and string. Loki became indignant at the comment. Not only did this man think he’d be gormless enough to ask for something he couldn’t afford, but he also indicated that Loki had poor taste by suggesting he would like such an ostentatious accessory that was only fit for children and street performers. It took all his energy not to place a hex on him or reveal himself as a prince of Asgard. Instead, he quickly eyed the price tag and then emptied a pouch of gold coins that had enough money and then some.

“Believe me, it is, what was it you said? Oh yes, ‘in my price range.’”

Between the haughty, mocking tone of voice Loki used and the seemingly endless bag of riches, the clerk was left standing with his mouth agape. He eagerly inspected the coins, wanting them to be real but not quite believing it. Satisfied that he wasn’t being duped, and having no good reason to accuse Loki otherwise, the man handed over the bracelet in an ornate box.

“Will that be all, sir?” he asked, still not entirely trusting what just happened.

“Yes. Thank you,” Loki replied, pleased with the new respect in the man’s tone.

Spying you working your way through the throng, he went to meet you halfway. Based on your empty hands, it seemed that you’d decided not to purchase anything after all. On account of how noisy your surroundings were, Loki decided to wait until you’d made your way out of the market to present his gift to you.

“So, what did you get?” you questioned once it was quiet enough.

“Well, it is for you, actually.”

Loki opened the box and showed you the trinket. Now that he’d done it, there was no taking it back, but he suddenly became very self-conscious. Was it even appropriate for him to get you a gift if you were not courting? He was sure that his tutors would disapprove, but it was just hindsight now, and there was simply nothing he could do. The worst part, though, was that you’d yet to say anything. Rather, you were just standing there with a surprised look decorating your features.

“Of course you do not have to accept it if you do not like it,” Loki added somewhat dejectedly. “Or for any other reason, either.”

“Loki,” you breathed out in a soft voice. “It’s beautiful. Thank you so much.”

The sincerity in your eyes chased away any lingering doubt he still had. Carefully, he picked up the bracelet and slid it onto your outstretched wrist. It was a perfect fit, and Loki’s skin tingled with magnetic energy from where it brushed yours. For a minute, neither of you said anything and instead just got lost in the other’s eyes. And then you were interrupted by a growl from your stomach.

“I, um, I guess I’m hungry. You?” you stammered, sheepishly fidgeting.

“Absolutely famished,” he replied, hoping to alleviate some of your embarrassment. “Well, I suppose we should be heading back to the palace then.”

“Are you kidding me? The best food is right here in town! Come on, I’ll show you.”

With that, you were once again bobbing and weaving through the crowds. Finally, you came to a cart emitting a delicious scent. After a short wait on line, you ordered some laufabrauð and urrädla for you and Loki to share. The crispy, fried dough treats were light and delightful on the tongue. Loki hummed in joy at the pleasurable taste.

“See, what did I tell you?”

“Well, it is delicious, I’ll give you that. But better than what is served at the palace? I think you are crazy,” he said with a friendly laugh.

“Maybe. But you like crazy, don’t you, God of Mischief?” you teased right back.

Loki once again found himself blushing. He hoped you did not know too well just how right you were. At least, when it was applied to you. The clever remark Loki was preparing died on his tongue as he noticed a pair of royal guards approaching where you stood. You looked over your shoulder, following his gaze, and saw them, too.

“It’s probably fine,” you said. “They’re just walking in this general direction, right?”

“Perhaps,” he responded, though something about their urgent gait did not sit right with him.

The Einherjar were doing their best to avoid looking at the pair of young nobles but kept glancing at you to make sure you hadn’t bolted. Unfortunately for them, you both noticed, and with a small nod to each other, you took off, trying to lose them in the crowds. Though Loki had received training for battle, even his nimble feet couldn’t keep up with yours,  experienced in traveling the busy streets. When you noticed he was falling behind, you seized his hand without thinking about it. Sadly, it did more harm than good because Loki couldn’t focus on his footing when your fingers were interlocked with his.

Finally, you found a stack of boxes to hide behind. You dove down, pulling Loki behind you. Thinking you’d lost the guards, you both dared to peek out to make sure. After identifying their retreating forms, you and Loki descended into a fit of giggles. Unfortunately, you were too busy laughing to notice the figure approaching you.

“What are you two doing away from the palace? Running around unsupervised, no less.”

Your chuckles came to an abrupt stop. Looking up, you saw Heimdall standing over you, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. Loki was pretty sure that was a rhetorical question, and that he’d be in deep trouble even if it wasn’t. You shot him a concerned look to which he responded with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Oh, wow. You’re right. This isn’t the palace,” you ventured, playing dumb. “Did you notice, Loki?”

“I had absolutely no idea! How confounding, don’t you agree?”

You nodded along, saying, “Indeed. Well, I suppose we should be heading back, now. Thank you, Heimdall, for alerting us.”

You and Loki started heading back in the direction of the palace, though neither of you actually had the intention of returning yet. You’d already started quietly giggling between yourselves, but it was cut off by a loud, exasperated sigh from the all-seeing god.

“It is no problem at all. Since we are all returning to the palace, we can walk together.”

You and Loki had no choice but to agree, and so you sullenly started your walk back, for real this time. The young prince was beginning to be annoyed by having his time with you cut short. It happened far too often, in his opinion. When he risked a glance at you, though, you were smiling.

“Don’t look so upset,” you whispered, elbowing him in the side. “I still had a good time.”

“Me too. And,” he whispered back, lowering his voice even further, “I rather think that we will have to do this again.”

You nodded, eyes lighting up in excitement. It made Loki’s heart flutter in his chest. The whispering continued all the way back to the palace. Once you’d reentered the gates, Lupus came running up to you.

“Hi boy!” you greeted the wolf pup, bending down to pet him. “Did you miss me?”

Loki bent down to pat your pet on the head, which was met with a lick on his face. He sputtered as Lupus’s tongue caught him right on the mouth, earning a laugh from you. It was then that your mother’s maid came rushing up to you.

“There you are!” she exclaimed. “Your parents are looking for you. Come along now, best not to keep them waiting.”

She grabbed you by the arm to whisk you away, and you helplessly waved goodbye to Loki, Lupus running behind you. He waved back and stared wistfully off into the direction of your abrupt exit. The light caught the golden bracelet hugging your wrist, and he couldn’t help but break out into a huge grin.  Heimdall, who was not about to let Loki off the hook so easily after his little escapade, cleared his throat, bringing the young god back to reality.

“Alright, fine. I apologize,” Loki conceded, though it was quite hard for him. Then a bit more nervously, he added, “You will not tell my father, will you?”

“You know I am required to report any significant events to your father,” he said. “Though, since this is only a minor infraction, I am willing to turn a blind eye, as it were.”  

“Thank you,” Loki said as Heimdall turned to leave. He made a mental note to work on ways to avoid Heimdall’s all-seeing gaze in the future. “I truly appreciate it.”

“You are welcome, my prince. Oh, and one more thing,” he said, turning back around, “they really do enjoy your company.”

He bid a stunned Loki goodbye and was on his way once more. Naturally, you’d expressed that you liked spending time with Loki, but he never could fully rid himself of doubt. Heimdall was certainly telling the truth, though, instilling Loki with a newfound confidence. He swaggered into the palace, completely certain that when he told you how he felt, whenever that may be, you would feel the same way, too.

[royalblue-star]

the boiling rock- zuko

Y’all this turned out to be a lot longer than I excepted, but I couldn’t help myself. Thank you if you read through the whole thing:)) 

Pairing: Zuko x Firebender! Reader

Summary: When the reader arrives at the Boiling Rock, she quickly becomes part of an elaborate plan to escape. And reunites with an old friend.

(Not my gif)

The gondola ride to the Boiling Rock was so tense that you could cut through it with a knife. You stood in the corner of the machine surround by criminals of the Fire Nation and the leader of the most recent invasion, Hakoda. You glanced over at the guards stationed by the entrance to the gondola. They were deep in their own conversation, perfect.

"Sir," you whispered to Hakoda.

After a moment of silence, you gathered that he was blatantly ignoring you. So, you tried again.

"Sir, please."

"What?" He whispered harshly back.

You should've excepted the ferocity of his tone because you were from the Fire Nation, but it hurt none the less.

"I just, uh, wanted to say that your plan to invade the Fire Nation was brilliant, and... I'm sorry that it failed." You paused, taking a deep breath. 'I was rooting for you."

This caught Hakoda's attention. You? Clearly, someone from the Fire Nation, hoping the invasion of your own nation succeeded? The man looked at you firmly, trying to understand you. You looked out of place among the other prisoners. So, how did you get there?

"Who are you?" He asked.

"(Y/N), sir. I was on Ozai's war council, one of his best battle strategists. I tried to convince the other council members that there wasn't an invasion, but Azula had found out about it as well."

"You were trying to let the invasion happen?"

"Yes, sir."

Hakoda looked bewildered. First by the fact that Ozai would let someone as young as you on his council. And second by how willing you were to betray your nation.

"Why?"

"Oh, so many reasons." You grimaced. "The Fire Lord is a monster."

You glanced over at the guards again, they were still deep in conversation, but you were approaching the prison quickly. You had to shoot your shot. Hakoda was probably the only person at the prison who could help you.

"Sir, I'm trying to come up with an escape plan, and I understand if you don't trust me-"

"(Y/N)," He cut you off. "I'll make sure you get out of here safely."

Letting out a sigh of relief, you replied, "Thank you."

Suddenly the gondola stopped, and the doors opened. Outside in the yard, the Warden and a few guards stood waiting for your arrival.

~

Across the yard, Sokka, Suki, and Zuko stood anxiously waiting for the new prisoners to arrive.

"Who's that?" questioned Suki. She was pointing at you as you were pushed out of the gondola and into line with the other prisoners. Your head was down, making you look even smaller among the rest of the group. Zuko followed Suki's line of sight and gasped when he laid eyes on you.

"That's (Y/N)."

"Who?" Suki inquired further.

"She's the one who helped me escape on the day of the invasion! My father must've found out that she played a part in it." He watched as you were roughly led away from the Warden and towards the inside of the building. "We have to get her out with us."

"What! Why!" Exclaimed Sokka, who was confused as to why they would have to add another person into their escape plan. "You might've changed, but she might not have!"

"You don't know her, not like I do. I offered to take her with me, but she refused. She said, 'You need an ally on the inside, Zuko. I'll be working from within.'"

"But-"

"She's coming with us."

~

You grunted as your body connected with the stone floor of your cell. Laughter from the guards that had led you there came from up behind you.

"You used to be one of the brightest minds in the Fire Nation. The Warden even admired your war tactics. Now, look at you. You're here, washed up and broken. It's sad." One of the guards sneered.

The door slammed shut, and you were left in the dark of the cell. A hot tear rolled silently down your face. 'You did the right thing by helping Zuko. You chose to pay for this price.' You thought, wiping the tear away.

Zuko and your relationship were always special. The two fo you were practically inseparable when you were young. The prince would steal you away from Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee so he could play with you. You didn't mind, he was more fun to be around anyways. But as the two of you grew older, it became harder to find time for one another.

Zuko was the Fire Lord's heir, and you were a general's daughter. While he was learning how to rule, you were learning the ins and outs of war. The two fo you did, however, learn to firebend together, but that was only for a short period each day. So, the two of you agreed to meet in secret during the night. Over time you developed a crush on the prince, and soon the crush turned into love. And love quickly became a secret.

Outside your door stood a nervous Sokka. Zuko and surprisingly, his father, had made it clear that you were to be involved in their escape. But he was skeptical due to your previous position in the Fire Nation. Reluctantly, he pushed the door to the cell open and quietly slipped inside.

You shot up from your place on the floor at the sight of him. But, there was something off about this guard. He came off as a new recruit, but that was obviously not the truth.  

"What do you want?" You growled, stepping back into an offensive stance.

"Uh, are you (Y/N)?"

This caught you off guard. It became clear that this "guard" was in fact, not a guard. There was something else at play here.

"Who's asking?" It was meant to come out as a question but ended up being more aggressive.

"My dad told me that you were escaping with us. I'm Sokka." He left out Zuko's name on purpose. He wanted to see your reaction. He wanted to see if you'd still help them without the prince.

"You're Hakoda's son?"

"Yeah.."

"He came up with a plan fast." You remarked, impressed by the older man. "What is it?"

A small smile grew on the Watertribe boy's face, and he began to fill you in on the details. Occasionally you would ask questions or drop in suggestions to improve things, but mostly you let him talk. He seemed to be like you in a sense that he had a mind for strategies. He was very clearly a diamond in the rough, but he was finding his shine. The two of you didn't have as much time as you would've liked to discuss the plan.

"Look for me in the yard once everyone is let out." He rose from his place on the ground and reached over to open the door and leave.

"Wait!" You said suddenly, jumping up from the ground. Sokka stopped and turned to look at you. It's a good plan, I think it just might work. You did a good job, thank you."

He wasn't able to hide the shock on his face, and instead of thanking you, he just nodded.

~

Once the door to your cell flew open, you were out of there in a flash. You bolted to the courtyard, pushing through all the hundreds of other prisoners. There were so many of them, how were you ever going to find Hakoda or Sokka? As you navigated through the growing crowd, you heard your name being faintly called. You turned to see Hakoda waving you over to where the rest of the group was.

"Hey," You said, running over to them. There was a girl that you hadn't met standing with them, but she looked familiar. Then it clicked. "Are you one of the Kyoshi warriors?"

She looked taken aback, "Yes, I'm the leader, Suki"

"That's so cool! I love your group, I think what you all do is amazing!" You marveled. She smiled at you as a form of gratitude, and the two of you quickly developed a mutual understanding of one another.

"This is it!" Called Sokka as he ran up to us. "We have to start a riot."

"Okay, but how do we do that."

Your eyes widened. This was a basic detail, and they forgot it. You bit your tongue to hold back the remarks that were threatening to spill.

"I'll show you." Smirked Hakoda. The older man made his way over to another prisoner and shoved him. And it failed, obviously.

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed, you were going to have to think quick.

"This isn't working," Sokka stressed.

"Yeah, no kidding." You grumbled.

"Do you have any better ideas!"

"Planning things was my job, of course, I do!" You retorted. You turned around to survey the courtyard. These were mostly Fire Nation prisoners, and the good majority were probably firebenders. And that meant one thing: Pent up anger. It was a known fact that the Warden didn't treat anyone here with any respect, so that was a common source for revenge among the prisoners. And to add fuel to the fire, everyone here must be incredibly bored. So, it would only take one simple action to set everyone off. The trick was figuring out what that action would be.

'Hey, you!" Called a new voice. "You're lucky I didn't rat you out. But my generosity comes with a price. I know you're planning another escape attempt, and I want in."

'Oh, he's perfect.' You thought, a lightbulb going off overhead.

"You," You directed, pointing at the new person. "We need a riot. Do me a favor and just go over there and have fun."

"I like your style." He smirked before following my instructions. Next, you turned to Suki and tilted your head slightly, indicating her to go ahead of us when she got a chance. She was a Kyoshi warrior, why not let her have fun.

'Impressive," remarked Hakoda as the courtyard erupted into chaos. "How did you get that idea?"

"As I said, it's my job to plan things."

"Oh, good Zuko! We're all here." Sokka exclaimed. Your heart just about stopped. Zuko was here?

You turned to see hair dark hair whipping around wildly as he ran towards the group. You just about melted as your gaze made contact with his golden orbs.

"Zuko." You whispered in disbelief.

The prince stopped dead in his tracks. "(Y/N)?"

Without another second passing, you jumped into his arms. Your arms locked around his neck and your legs went around his waist. He gripped your waist tightly while bringing one hand up and into your hair.

"You're okay." He breathed. "I've been worried ever since I left."

Sokka cleared his throat from behind us, full knowing that he was going to tease Zuko for this later. "I hate to break up the moment, but we need to get the Warden."

"Suki's on it," you replied as you untangled yourself from Zuko.

"Yeah, your girlfriend's taking care of it." We all turned to see Suki scaling the wall headed towards the Warden.

Intertwining you and Zuko's hand together you said, "Why are we still standing here? Let's go!"

By the time everyone caught up to the Kyoshi warrior, the Warden was officially our prisoner.

"How do you like my tactics now?" You questioned the Warden as Suki handed him off. He only glared at you, so you smirked triumphantly.

The path to the gondola was riddled with guards, but you were met with a group of them as you approached your method of escape. One of them fired a blast of fire at Sokka, but Zuko stepped in front of him and deflected it. You moved up next to Zuko and shot two equally powerful balls of fire towards the guards, forcing them back.

"Back off! We've got the Warden!" Zuko demanded and the guards reluctantly backed down.

You all crossed the bridge cautiously and you threw the gondola doors open. "Everyone get in!"

Once everyone was inside, Zuko shut the door and raced over to a lever. Where he proceeded to pull it and bash it, sending the gondola moving. You happened to look out the window just in time to see Zuko dodging fire blasts while jumping towards the gondola.

Once Sokka had pulled the prince safely inside the gondola, you an over to him and smacked his chest. "You absolute idiot! What on earth were you thinking?"

"I was making it so that the guards couldn't stop us."

"Shut up! I'm supposed to be the smart one!"

He laughed and moved some loose hair from your face. "You still are."

Your arms made their way around his torso as a sigh escaped your lips. It had been a while since the two of you had even had a moment of peace together. Even upon his return to the Fire Nation, the two of you scarcely saw each other. So, moments like these, with the two of you locked in each other's embrace, were treasured.

"I missed you, Zu."

"I missed you too."

Across the gondola, Hakoda leaned out of one of the windows and shouted, "Wait, who's that?"

He was pointing at the figures of Azula and Ty Lee racing up the cable towards the machine.

"That's a problem." Zuko groaned, his arm moving from the previous hug to gripped your waist. "It's my sister and her friend."

"This is the rematch I've been waiting for." Suki snarled, cracking her knuckles.

"You have no idea."

You, Sokka, Suki, and Zuko all climbed out of the gondola and onto the roof, ready to face the princess and her acrobatic friend. You stood up, taking an offensive position next to Zuko while Zula pulled herself up onto the roof. The prince's arm flew out in front of you as if to protect you, not that you needed it, but anything is possible with Azula.

"Oh, how cute." Azula sneered. "The two traitors protecting each other."

She delivered a flawless kick which sent a blast of blue fire towards us. Zuko managed to block the first two blasts, but when Azula sent a surprisingly big blast, he was thrown back. It took everything in you not to check on him and focus on your opponent. He would be alright, and you knew that.

Wasting no time, you jumped into a front ariel, dodging Azula's next blast and sending your own towards her. Landing in a crouched position, you glowered at her. "You just had to ruin everything, didn't you?"

"Now, why would I let you and Zuzu have all the fun?" Two more quick shots of blue fire were sent at you, and you bearly managed to block them from the ground. Backbending back, you shot more fire from your feet at the princess in an attempt to throw her off guard.

"You know," she mused. "You could come back. Regain your rank on the council, and have your name cleared. We could forget this ever happened."

"Why would I do that?" It was rhetorical, but Azula answered anyways.

"Maybe then your family wouldn't get hurt."

Your guard instantly went down. You had completely forgotten to ensure your family's safety. The events of your arrest had happened so fast that you didn't think up a way to protect them.

Azula saw her chance. Your guard was down, and you were vulnerable. The princess sent a bolt of lightening square into your shoulder, and you were thrown into the metal hold of the gondola.

Your ears started to ring, and your shoulder felt as if it had been lit on fire. Slowly, your senses started to fade. Azula was standing over you, talking, but you couldn't make out what she was saying. All you could focus on was the growing, hot pain in your shoulder. The last clear thing you saw before your vision blurred was Azula holding out her fingers, preparing to fire again.

You blinked, and suddenly Zuko was standing over you, forcing his sister back.

You blinked again, attempting to keep your mind from completely fogging. But the pain was so intense. The last thing you felt before losing complete consciousness was you being lifted up off the ground and handed off like a rag doll.

~

Later that night, everyone was sound asleep on the airship they had stolen from Azula. Well, everyone except for Zuko. He hadn't left your side since they had taken off. Worry practically radiated off of him ad he clutched your limp hand for dear life. He had only just gotten you back, and now you might be taken away from him again.

"You idiot." He mumbled to your unconscious form. "Why did you try to take Azula on your own. You're supposed to be the smart one."

He knew that that wasn't fair, but he couldn't help it. You had always been able to hold your own, even as kids. But he couldn't help but feel protective over you. You were the one thing in his life that had remained consistent. You never gave up on him, you were always there for him, and you always forgave him. He had already lost Iroh, he couldn't lose you too.

"You love her, don't you?" Sokka remarked, coming up from behind the prince.

"I thought you were sleeping."

"Don't avoid my question."

Zuko turned back to gaze down at your fragile form. "Yeah, I guess I do."

"She's a lucky girl to have someone who cares so much." He patted Zuko's shoulder reassuringly. "She'll be okay."

Moments after Sokka had walked away, Zuko felt your hand shift. His head shot up as you groaned.

"Zuko..?" Your voice was scratchy, but it was the most beautiful sound that he had ever heard.

You tried to sit up, only for Zuko to gently place his hands around you and move you to a sitting position.

"Easy, (Y/N), you were just struck by lightning."

"Is that so?" you grumbled sarcastically. "I take back what I said to Sokka, your friends are bad at battle strategies."

"I know." He said laughing lightly. But after a moment he grew serious and asked, "How did you end up in the Boiling Rock?"

"Your father found out that I helped plan your escape, and that I knew about the invasion on the day of the eclipse. Obviously, I forgot to inform him about either so he sent me there. He thought that by my being at the Boiling Rock, he would still have access to my skills if needed."

You watched as the guilt flooded into Zuko's golden eyes. "It's my fault you were put there. I'm so sorry about everything. You've done everything, risked everything for me, and this is how I repay you."

"Zuko, I made those decisions on my own. I wouldn't have helped you if I didn't think it was right. I will always be by your side. And I will always support whatever crazy choices you make."

"Thank you so much, I don't think I've said that to you enough. Thank you. Where would I be without you?"

"Probably lost in a tunnel." A smile spread across both of your faces.

"Zuko I-"

"(Y/N) I-"

"Oh! I'm sorry-"

"Sorry I-" Our words overlapped each other.

"Wait," You weakly held you a hand. "You first, Prince Zuko."

"But-"

"Go."

Zuko's heart started to beat so loud that he was sure you could hear it. "(Y/N), I just wanted to say that I... I like you. More than a friend! Spirits, I might even love you! I've never felt this way about anyone before and I- I don't know what to do. You make me feel safe and loved and free, all at the same time! I can always be myself around you! We've been through so much together and I.." He trailed off. "I hope you feel the same."

He began to grow nervous as the seconds of silence ticked by. Did he overstep by confessing everything to you? Suddenly. you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, cutting off his anxious thoughts. Zuko began to relax into it and kissed you back deeper. Once the kiss broke, you pressed your forehead to his and brought your hand to the side of his face.

"I love you too, stupid."

[gusu-emilu]

Follow Your Arrow (Part 2): Jiang Cheng / Wen Ning

(Cloud Recesses Era, G, 2.6k, CW: non-graphic bird hunting, read on AO3)

Jiang Cheng and Wen Ning accidentally go to the same spot in the Cloud Recesses to practice archery.

< Part 1 (although this part can stand alone too)

* * *

Shooting at rocks in a waterfall is not Jiang Cheng’s ideal form of an archery competition. Wen Ning is closer to the waterfall, which doesn’t necessarily put Jiang Cheng at a disadvantage, but it does mean that Jiang Cheng has to see Wen Ning in the corner of his eyes every time he tries to aim. It's irksome. Jiang Cheng has always competed better when he doesn’t have to watch his opponent.

Not that watching Wen Ning affects his performance. Sure, Wen Ning is a decent shot. When he’s relaxed and his hands aren’t fidgeting, his archery skills might even be called impressive. The rocks blown to bits by his arrows seem to testify as much. But he's not that good.

Another rock shatters with the impact of Wen Ning’s shot. Jiang Cheng is still adjusting his aim when the periphery of his vision is filled with Wen Ning grinning to himself, and inadvertently his eyes wander over to the sight.

Yes, that’s enough shooting at waterfalls.

“Stop here,” Jiang Cheng says, lowering his bow. He straightens his posture once Wen Ning looks over in confusion.

“H-Have we finished the competition?” Wen Ning asks, leaning to the side slightly as if he needs to look around some barrier to see Jiang Cheng, even though the length of riverbank between them is unobstructed. Somehow that makes Jiang Cheng feel exposed, that Wen Ning is paying such careful attention to him.

“No,” Jiang Cheng says. “We’re not finished. Haven’t started, actually.”

All Wen Ning returns are wide eyes and a soft little “oh?”

“That was the warmup.” Avoiding Wen Ning’s gaze, Jiang Cheng slings his quiver over his shoulder and strides toward the woods lining the riverbank. “For the competition, we’re going to hunt birds.”

After a few moments, there’s a shuffling sound and scurrying footsteps behind him. Wen Ning catches up to Jiang Cheng just as they enter the forest, sidling up next to him. Jiang Cheng picks up his pace.

“Hunting birds?”

“You have a problem with that?”

Wen Ning stumbles as he tries to keep up with Jiang Cheng’s ever-quickening pace, but he regains his balance and appears back at Jiang Cheng’s side. “No. I just don’t usually shoot animals.”

Wen Ning's hurried steps beside Jiang Cheng keep him in the corner of his vision again. It’s irritating. Like a ghost Jiang Cheng knows is there but can’t fully capture in his sight. He stops abruptly and turns to face Wen Ning head-on so he can at least see the nuisance in his entirety. Wen Ning trips again, steadies himself, then clutches his bow in front of his stomach, his hands close enough together for him to nervously rub his thumb over one of his knuckles.

Jiang Cheng studies his scrunched posture, his pouty face, his long fingers curling around the bow. “Then it’ll be all the more of a challenge. You wanted help getting over competition anxiety, didn’t you?”

“I—y-yes, I suppose so.”

“Okay. Anywhere in this section of the forest is fair game.” Jiang Cheng gestures at the shady expanse of forest in front of them. “Meet back at the river. Whoever catches more birds wins.”

Wen Ning nods a little too eagerly, still staring at him.

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. “Go already.”

“Oh—oh.” Wen Ning hesitates for a few seconds, then bolts away.

Jiang Cheng scoffs. Weirdo. No wonder he gets along with Wei Wuxian.

That thought bites. Wei Wuxian has been fluttering from disciple to disciple nonstop since they arrived in the Cloud Recesses, gravitating farther from Jiang Cheng and revolving in tighter circles around people from other clans, like Nie Huaisang, who—if Jiang Cheng is honest—he doesn’t mind that much. But Wei Wuxian has also attached himself to this strange one Wen Ning, who of course also happens to be from an enemy clan. And Wei Wuxian has been clinging most of all to that insufferable Lan Wangji…

Anyway. Bird-hunting.

This choice of competition was intentional. First, it’ll let Jiang Cheng get Wen Ning out of the corners of his vision. Completely out of his sight. Wen Ning’s absence feels much better already. Second, he’ll be able to show off the birds he catches to Wei Wuxian and maybe squeeze out a few compliments for hunting an extra dinner for them, as well as get a rise out of Nie Huaisang for turning cousins of his prized avian pets into prey.

Following the calls of birds, he stalks through the forest, scanning the canopy of trees. A flash of wings on a branch to the left. He creeps closer, stringing an arrow and drawing it back. He sets his aim, gets the tension just right—

The bird plops to the forest floor.

Jiang Cheng’s arrow hasn’t left his bow.

His brow furrowed, he steps forward to stand over the bird and inspect it. Wen Ning arrives at the same time, holding his bow up guiltily. His arrow has been shot.

“What way to play is this?” Jiang Cheng shouts. “You have the entire forest! You can’t hunt the same birds as me!”

“S-Sorry…” Wen Ning looks down at the creature, his eyes downcast.

“Just, hunt somewhere farther from me! Okay?” Jiang Cheng says, trying to soften his voice and not succeeding at it.

Wen Ning is quiet for so long that Jiang Cheng’s throat begins to itch.

“Well, it’s just that…” Wen Ning finally says, only to trail off.

“What?”

“W-Well, if I want to become better at competing without feeling nervous,” he meets Jiang Cheng’s eyes, “won’t I get the most competition if I steal your shots?”

Jiang Cheng’s eyebrows shoot up. He reigns his facial expression back in immediately, but not soon enough, because Wen Ning is staring right at him when a traitorous heat flushes across his cheeks. “I’m not helping you that much! Go somewhere else!”

Wen Ning nods sullenly and walks away.

Steal my shots! The nerve! He shakes his head. These Wens are unbearable.

Wen Ning’s idea makes sense, of course, and his gut twists at the realization of how seriously Wen Ning is working to get an advantage over him. He didn’t expect he’d have to be on his guard this much.

Is Wen Ning only trying this hard because he wants to overcome his fears?

Most likely.

Jiang Cheng thinks that incident will be the first and last time Wen Ning shoots down a bird before he even has the chance to set his aim.

It happens a second time.

“Wen Qionglin!” He stomps over to where Wen Ning is hiding behind a tree and grabs him by the collar of his robes. “I told you to hunt birds somewhere else! Do you want me to shoot at you instead?”

“S-S-Sorry—”

Somehow, without noticing, he’s pulled Wen Ning closer. Or he's stepped closer himself. He lets go of Wen Ning’s robes with a shove, turns around and storms away because this time he is not letting the heat in his cheeks be seen. Especially since it shouldn’t even be there.

What is he so embarrassed about? That Wen Ning has been following him and timing his shots to land right before his own, at the exact time that would frustrate him most?

The answer rises into his mind unbidden.

He is embarrassed about that.

Dang it.

The next bird he targets, he resists the tingle in his fingers that urges him to rush through the shot and strike the bird before Wen Ning has the chance. Instead, he positions himself for the shot, slows his breath, steadies his arms, and drops his gaze away to scan the shadows in the forest surrounding him. The pest is bound to be around here somewhere.

His gaze settles on a dark spot in the bushes that seems especially unwieldy. Was that a pair of eyes blinking back at him?

He adjusts his fingers on the bow and arrow, builds up pressure in his back muscles. He'll change directions at the last second. Fire an arrow toward Wen Ning and give him a scare.

He draws—

Shing!

His head jerks up to follow an arrow that whirs past his hair ornament and lodges into a tree trunk behind him. His own arrow releases into the dirt at his feet.

Wen Ning shot at him first?!

"Wen Qionglin!" he bellows.

"I'm s-sorry! I didn't m-mean to—aaaah!" Wen Ning drops his bow in the grass and sprints away, because Jiang Cheng is chasing after him and Jiang Cheng is going to catch him.

All those times he chased down Wei Wuxian have proven useful. A matter of seconds and he's close enough to grab Wen Ning's arm and yank him to a stop. Unfortunately, Wen Ning is heavier than he expected. He loses his balance. Overshoots a bit. Falls to the ground and pulls Wen Ning on top of him.

"J-Jiang-gongzi!"

"Get off me!"

"Jiang-gongzi, I didn't mean to—"

Jiang Cheng is sick of being at a disadvantage, so sick of it. He pushes Wen Ning off, slams him into the ground beside him. He climbs on top and pushes Wen Ning's shoulders down, flattening the weeds underneath his shoulder blades.

"First you shoot at my birds, then you shoot at me?!"

"I-I didn't—that was an accident—"

"Oh, wonderful! Please tell me how that could possibly be an accident!"

Wen Ning stares wide-eyed at one of the hands Jiang Cheng is digging into his shoulder. A few locks of his hair, too soft, are tangled between Jiang Cheng's fingers. Wen Ning meets his eyes, looks down at his chest for longer than is comfortable, and back up to his eyes. Heat rises to Jiang Cheng's face again. This time he has nowhere to hide.

"I...I..." Wen Ning says quietly.

"You what?" Jiang Cheng's voice cracks on the word what, jumping to a pitch much too high, as if he hasn't already been humiliated enough today.

"I was..."

"Spit it out!" He shoves Wen Ning's shoulders down harder for good measure, but that only makes him blush more fiercely. He freezes, fearful that one more motion, one more twitch of muscle, and his face would light on fire.

"I was aiming at the b-bird above you and then..." Wen Ning tries to look away. But there's a person on top of him. Anywhere his eyes go is somewhere on Jiang Cheng's body, and that definitely does not make Jiang Cheng shiver.

"But then I was w-watching you instead of the bird, so my arrow..."

The rush of understanding is like a punch in the gut. Had the wind been knocked out of Jiang Cheng before this moment? Or is it just now?

Wen Ning was staring at me so much he ended up aiming at me.

What the heck.

What the heck.

He wrenches himself away from Wen Ning and plops onto his backside in the grass next to him, resting his arms on top of his bent knees, his mind fuzzy.

"Why?" As soon as the words come out, Jiang Cheng bites his lower lip and presses his mouth closed, clenches his jaw, but he's already asked. He hadn't wanted to ask that.

"Umm." Wen Ning sits up a bit, propping himself up on his forearms, still lying on the forest floor. His feet splay outward from each other. His fingers dig into the grass. "What are you asking?"

Jiang Cheng would sooner plunge one of his arrows into his own chest than explain what he meant.

"W-Well..." Wen Ning sits up fully now, positioning himself cross-legged in front of Jiang Cheng, like they're about to have a meditation session together. His hands are a little jittery and he stutters his words, but overall he looks gentle and calm, which should be impossible given what just happened. If Jiang Cheng didn't know better, he'd be jealous.

"I guess I just," Wen Ning continues, his eyes fixed down in the dirt, then lifting to graze over Jiang Cheng's face, "think you're p-pretty."

An arrow does plunge into Jiang Cheng's chest.

His heart races. Fights against the tightness constricting his windpipe. His whole body is going to burn up.

He really had to choose this word? Pretty?

Jiang Yanli is pretty. Wen Qing is pretty. Even Nie Huaisang and Lan Wangji are pretty. Hell, Wen Ning is pretty.

But Jiang Cheng?

Whatever mortified expression he's making right now, he can't wipe it off his face, and it's definitely not pretty.

He jumps to his feet. "That's—that's dumb."

Wen Ning gapes up at him. "It is?"

He just stands there with his fists clenched like an idiot.

Gods, why can't you just say something properly? Something nice. Why are you acting like this?

"You can't go around shooting arrows at people and telling them it's because they're pretty!" he says, trying to swallow the words back down his throat, but they come out anyway. "Who does that?" You do! You were going to aim your bow at him yourself!

"Oh," Wen Ning says, still sitting on the ground. He's started fidgeting with his hands. "Jiang-gongzi...should we finish the competition?"

"It's finished!" Jiang Cheng shouts. "You've already won, haven't you?"

"I have?"

Jiang Cheng sucks in a breath and turns his face away. "Clearly!"

Wen Ning stands up. He takes a step toward Jiang Cheng, then wavers and returns to stillness. "So what happens now?"

Jiang Cheng glares at him. "I'll...I'll..."

I guess I just think you're pretty.

It's humiliating. So much worse than when Jiang Yanli tells him that he's handsome. From Wen Ning it feels so genuine and awkward and nice and makes his skin boil and his body sink into the ground.

And Wen Ning really did perform well in their competition. During the "warmup" he was already nailing every two or three shots, and during the hunt in the forest—Jiang Cheng hates to admit it—he put up a challenge. For someone so outwardly meek, Wen Ning is plucky. After all, only one of them had caught any birds. If Wen Ning had been trying to impress him...it had worked. Ironic, embarrassing, that was, because Jiang Cheng had been the one trying to impress him.

"I'll treat you."

Wen Ning raises his hands and shakes away the offer. "Oh, no, n-no need to trouble yourself. I don't want anything."

"What?" Jiang Cheng scoffs. "Don't want my company?"

"That's not what I meant."

Jiang Cheng is ready to leave. He's ready to get out of the forest and far away from the aftermath of this cursed competition. They need to settle this now, because he's ready to leave, and absolutely not because his heart is fluttering.

"Wei Wuxian is bringing Emperor's Smile to our room tonight." He jerks the strap of his quiver over his shoulder and grips down hard on his bow, straightening his posture and raising his chin. "Either show up, or don't."

Wen Ning gives a small smile. "I-I'd like that, Jiang-gongzi. But...my sister says I shouldn't drink too much."

"Then don't drink anything. What do I care?"

""Okay." Wen Ning's smile grows a little bigger, and Jiang Cheng just about dies inside. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Jiang Cheng says, the words catching in his mouth a bit. He turns around before his face can betray him again. "You better show up."

Jiang Cheng heads up the trail to the center of the Cloud Recesses, his face burning, his archery skills insulted, and his lips quirking into a smile.

* * *

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this story, you can be a supportive sibling like Jiang Yanli by visiting me on AO3!

You can subscribe to my degrees of separation series on AO3 to get a notification whenever I post the next part. I have ideas for a follow-up thanks to suggestions from @qi-ling​ (who also has some excellent fanfics!)

And if you have your own ideas...my ask box is always open 👀

[fandom-blackhole]

Hayloft - Ezra x Reader P.2

AN:  Hello! So not much to say here other thank you to everyone who read and enjoyed the first part. Also all future parts of this book, which is going to be 4 to 5 parts?, will be published on fridays or saturdays that way I have time to write them and have my ‘editor’ (sister) read through them! Anyway without further ado, Part 2!

Also small side note in my world Ezra is king of consent and I will not change my mind

Masterlist

Words: 3.3k

Warnings: mentions of disability discrimination, AFAB reader, Ezra laying on the charm thiccc

Life with Ezra on the farm was different. He was unlike any floater our family had employed before. Ezra had an air about him that just couldn’t be placed or replicated, and as much as I quite enjoyed everything that set him apart, Anthony and my father weren’t too keen on them. Ezra, for me at least, felt like a breath of fresh air after only being able to breathe in the stale air only found in the deepest of caves, or deep space which had been described to me by a previous floater. And the one-armed floater was refreshing to look at as well, with his easy smiles, plush lips, imperfectly perfect facial hair, eyes so dark that I could just get lost in them if he allowed me too, and his nose, Kevva above don’t get me started on just how badly I wanted to trace my finger down that beautifully accenting facial feature.

After arriving home from the market with Ezra in tow that first Saturday, my father had sent me to go and sort through the day’s haul while he discussed a work arrangement with Ezra and showed him around the farm. I hadn’t seen much of Ezra the rest of the day until I had called everyone to dinner, which only led to Ezra profusely complimenting my cooking with his tongue twistingly colorful words before excusing himself for an early night’s rest. It was later as I finished washing the dishes that I heard my father’s first of many dissatisfied comments on the man.

 “That damned man is lucky we are so pressed for help. Any other situation and I wouldn’t have hired a loose-lipped man in his… situation .”

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

Things on the farm improved greatly with having another person around to help bear the heavy load of work. Ezra, despite my father’s reluctance and doubts in his abilities, worked harder and better than almost all of our previous hires. He woke early and worked late, doing just about anything that was asked of him, and all the while he kept his cheerful attitude.

 During the first week that Ezra was brought to the farm, we shared smiles over meals and chatted whenever we were working together. For that first week, I had decided to steer clear of sneaking into the now spare bedroom that Ezra currently occupied, but after a week of sharing glances at each other and only small talk when speaking amongst ourselves I was itching to have an actual conversation with the silver-tongued man. So later in the afternoon on the Sunday after his first week, I left a note asking for permission to come and visit him that night after everyone else had gone to bed. That night over dinner when he met my eyes across the table and gave a small nod with his signature crooked white smile I glanced down at my plate with a smile on my face knowing exactly what that nod had meant. 

After Ezra had given me his small nod, the evening seemed to have decided to drag on as much as possible. Ezra, per usual, retired to his room early while I went to start the dishes where I soon found out the meal I had prepared had chosen to be stubborn and stick to all of the plates and pans, and as a result, I spent a good chunk of my evening scrubbing until my wrist was the sore from overworking it. Hope that the evening would move quickly after that had been shot down almost immediately when I had walked from the kitchen only to have my father call me over so that we could go through finances and start making plans for the next season. As we sat at the table, papers spread around us, I kept finding my fingers drumming against the table in front of me in impatient worry, which I quickly stopped doing as soon as I realised, which only led to my leg to start bouncing minutes later from restlessness. So after yawning for the fourth time and noticing that the third of K-5’s moons was in the center of the sky my father finally decided to call it a night, and in my excitement, though I tried to hide it, I ushered him off to bed with promises of putting away the paperwork we had scattered across the table. 

After rushing to put everything away while keeping it all organized and going to my room to grab my small book collection, I slowly and quietly crept towards the room where I hoped Ezra was still waiting for me, though I would have not blamed him in the least if he had given up or fell asleep waiting for me. So when I cracked the door enough to peek through and was met with Ezra jerking his head away from the window and his mouth splitting into a Cheshire grin as his eyes sparkling more than any star in the sky at that moment, I had to bite down on my bottom lip to keep myself from returning a grin just as broad as his as I slid through the door before closing it quietly.

“I must admit, flower, that I was damn well on the verge of losing hope that you would be visiting me tonight, but mark myself absolutely lucky that here you come sneaking into my room looking like an absolute vision in the light of the moons and stars,” the man whispered as I crept closer to sit on the cot across from the one that he had claimed and he combed his fingers through his hair in what seemed to be an attempt to smooth his unruly hair, though only succeeding in causing his white fluff to stick at and even more awkward angle. Having a small smile form on my lips along with a rosy tint on my cheeks from his flirtatious compliments, I met his eyes again and whispered a small sorry as I sat my books on the cot beside me. 

“Hear now, flower, you need not apologize to this gruff and weathered prospector. I would have stayed up all night if it meant that you would grace my presence if only long enough to bestow one of those darlin’ smiles in my direction. Now those smiles you think me lucky enough to see with my own weary eyes could keep me going for days, if not weeks, without needing any sort of sustenance.”

Giving him a quiet laugh and a shake of my head widening my smile, “I think you have soaked up every last bit of charm in the universe, Ezra, and as much as I enjoy it, you might want to charm some with the rest of us.”

“Oh but precious flower, you don’t know this but I have never been quite good at sharing, and if keeping ‘every last bit of charm in the universe’ to myself keeps your graceful beauty coming back to me, then I am going to harbor and collect every single bit of charm I can, like a dragon taken in by its golden hoard.”

Rolling my eyes at his silvery words I gave him a huff as a laugh and turned my head to change the subject trying to hide just how much his smooth words of flattery made me feel, “I, um, I brought the rest of my books. I thought you might want to read them, or maybe talk about them…”

Suddenly feeling nervous, I break eye contact and start picking at my nails. Books have always been my solace away from the dull reality of my world and my collection, though meager, meant everything to me. So offering them up to Ezra felt like I was offering him a small piece of my soul and if he said or did anything in a mocking or ridiculing manner, I feel like I could just crumble right where I sat from disappointment and embarrassment. Not only would any untoward words feel like a personal attack, but I wanted to impress this well-spoken man so badly and I couldn’t figure out why, though in all honesty I might have a small inkling as to why that I have yet to want to admit to myself. As usual though, when Ezra opened his mouth he did nothing but fill my chest with warmth with his flowery words.

“I would like to think you have quite the library started here, flower,” reaching over to grab the books only to stop and look to me for permission, only to continue with a small nod of my head. “Now let’s see Pride and Prejudice ? Now that is a lovely read, I always quite liked how Ms. Austen wrote the women in her elegant novels, especially given the time she was writing in. And let’s see Frankenstein, now this a book that I have heard nothing but praises for but have yet to be able to get my hands… hand on. Now last but certainly not least The Hobbit , now this is a true story of wonder, Mr. Tolkien sure did have quite the imagination having been able to create a whole new world with history, languages, peoples, and oh so much more. The man was a true genius if I am inclined to give my own opinion. I very much enjoyed his accompanying stories about Bilbo’s young nephew as well.”

After scanning over each book precariously he looked back to me with eyes so soft that I think even kitten’s fur couldn’t compare. As I met his gaze with my own I tasted a slight tinge on my tongue and realized that this entire time I had been chewing on my bottom lip in worry and anticipation. Giving a small smile Ezra reached across the small gap between the cots we were sitting on and brushed his thumb over my bottom lip, “Darlin’ flower, that, if I might say, is a terrible habit you seemed to have picked up and I must suggest you break it in anyway imaginable. I don’t think my heart could take seeing any of your delicate petals harmed in any way.”

His hand pulled away just as quickly as it appeared and I let out a stuttering breath I had not realized I had been holding in, my eyes still wide and watching him from the shock of the such intimate feeling act. Without missing a beat though, Ezra leans back and grins at me though it had a softer edge now.

 “I have to ask, flower. How are you enjoying Poe? I know I told you that I didn’t much care for him, but I have been waiting with absolute bated breath to hear what your opinion of the eccentric man is...”

As the night continued to get later and later, the two of us discussed Poe and his stories, having admitted to Ezra that I had not yet finished reading the poetry section of the book, because in all truth I have not been able to progress past the poem he had recited to me on our first meeting, having read it several times at this point. Though I did not admit that to him. As the night neared dawn I took my leave after gathering my books and as I headed towards the door I found myself stopping and turning around and scurrying over to Ezra, who looked at me with slight confusion in his eyes, and I pushed my tattered copy of Frankenstein to his chest before spinning around and fleeing back to my bedroom. 

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

After that first Sunday night, Ezra and I had quickly settled into a routine of having weekly meetings on the Sunday nights following our first. I found myself looking forward to our meetings each week more and more as the days progressed. Slowly over time and as our meetings grew in number, Ezra and I grew closer as friends, but also physically. After almost a month of our secret sunday meetings, we had gone from sitting across from one another on different cots to sharing Ezra’s cot. 

Though the cots were small I found myself not minding when we would accidentally brush against one another, if anything everytime it happened I felt my heart skip a beat or my breath catch in my throat. As our closeness grew, I found that Ezra’s touches grew in number as well. The touches though were never much, but unlike the accidental brushes of our hands or knees as we talked, these touches were more deliberate much like when he had ran his thumb across my bottom lip that first night. Ezra would often reach out and push hair behind my ear as soon as it had fallen in my face or as I talked animatedly about something, more often than not one of my books, he would reach out and trace one of his fingers along my hand, wrist and arm. Those were my favorite of his touches, because they were gentle and soft as he ran a finger around the palm of my hand before moving slowly to my wrist where he would focus on drawing figure eights and other shapes before moving on to my forearm where he would just run his finger up and down, occasionally stopping and tracing letters onto my skin, though I’m not sure if he ever actually spells anything because I get too caught up in the feeling of his rough calloused finger tip against my softer forearms and inner wrist. Everytime he runs his finger along one of my arms I always find it hard to continue with what I am telling him because his soft touch paired with his soft but passionate gaze always seems to throw my train of thought off its rails, but I push through and struggle to continue if only for the fear that if I stop talking he will pull his hand away from mine. 

Things between Ezra and I just continued to progress as the two of us grew more and more comfortable around each other. Most Sunday nights were filled with book talk or Ezra telling stories of adventures he had been on, though I could only assume the man liked to exaggerate in his story telling as I could not believe that some of the things he had described had actually happened to him. After a while we had even added reading to each other into the mix of things we did some nights, and these quickly became my favorite nights, even though I loved Ezra’s stories, Ezra’s voice as he read had a certain pull to it that caused me to be drawn closer to him every time. On the nights where we read to each other we always ended up touching. When Ezra read I always ended up drifting slowly towards him until I was laying my head on his shoulder looking down at whatever book he held and was reading from. While on the other hand, when I read to Ezra he, unlike me, who slowly moved until we touch, immediately got comfortable on his cot before moving his legs and pulling me to sit between them before resting his chin on my shoulder. He, in a much longer and dramatic way, told me that he liked to be able to read along the page with me and this position was the best to do that. Those nights he also tended to grab my left hand and play with my fingers and trace my palm as we read. 

It wasn’t until one of the nights I was reading to him that I let myself finally realise just how much this man meant to me and just how much I was really starting to care for him. It was when he stopped me from reading “Lenore” by Edgar Allan Poe to discuss the part of the poem I had just read and I turned to look at him as he spoke that I was just hit with the need to hold him close and not let him go. 

When it was time for me to sneak back to my room, I placed the book I had been reading from onto my stack of books that now resided underneath Ezra’s cot. Turning I found Ezra standing next to the door and gave him a smile as I slowly and quietly padded over to where he stood and once I reached him, he grabbed my hand and intertwined our fingers together. We stood like that for a few seconds, quiet and not talking with tension growing between the two of us, until I reached my other hand to his face, hesitating only for a second, before placing it on his cheek and brushing my thumb across his cheek bone. Moving my eyes from from where my thumb was moving across his cheek to his eyes I felt as if the wind had been knocked out of me from the intensity of his gaze. Without realizing it until his nose bumped into mine, that I became aware of just how close Ezra and I’s faces had drifted together, and as I felt myself bite the inside of my lip Ezra broke the silence, though it was so quiet I hadn’t realized he had spoken until I found myself responding.

“Flower, I must admit that I have dreamed and thought constantly about what those beautifully flushed lips would feel like brushing against my own, and I must ask. Please if you would grant any wish of mine, delicate flower, would you please allow me to feel the heaven that I am sure would be your lips upon mine,” as he asked I could feel every word because of our closeness more than actually heard them. Ezra’s eyes never left my own as he spoke, looking back and forth between them, studying them and waiting for my response. Closing my eyes, I released my bottom lip and nodded giving him a breathless yes, before he gently pressed our lips together. The first kiss was quite chaste, but when we pulled apart it only took Ezra a second move his lips back onto mine to drag them into a more passionate kiss. It was through this kiss that I felt and realised that Ezra had grown to care for me in much the same way as I cared for him. It was after we pulled away from that kiss as the need to breath became more of a priority, that he'd pulled away from me with a soft smile and he moved to open the door so that I could make the short journey back to my room. As I slipped through the door I couldn’t help but to grab his face again and press another short kiss to his lips before moving into the shadows of the hallway.

 That night as I walked to my room I was only able to move in muscle memory as my mind was preoccupied with what had just happened. As I moved down the hallways it felt like I was floating rather than walking, the entire time I could only reminisce over how Ezra’s lips had felt against mine. And even after I reached my room and crawled into bed, my mind refused to think about anything other than the man that felt so close yet so far. I couldn’t draw myself away from the memory of just how right his lips had felt brushing against mine. I couldn’t think of anything but the feel of his mustache tickling my upper lip as his lips rough, much like his hands, lips had gently glided over mine with such care and adoration. I couldn’t bring myself to think about anything other than the thought that the kisses we had shared felt like no other kiss or intimacy that I had experienced with anyone else.

(Thank you so much for taking the time to read this! I hope you enjoyed and any and all likes and/or comments are welcome. If you see any weird formatting know that tumblr destroyed this when I copied it and I tried my best to fix it, so any mistakes please point them out so I can fix them! If you are curious about this world shoot me an ask, I love talking about my fics! Also if you’d like to be added to or removed from the taglist just shoot me a message! This is also on my Ao3 which is linked in Part 1 as well as a spotify playlist I made for Ezra! Anyway have a lovely week!)

Tags: @babybelou @farrvey @anatanotegami @revolution-starter

[mammon-money]

(Obey Me x Fem!MC)

(Hello 😈 I've written slight unfinished stories before but this is my first time actually finishing one to post, so I hope you like it! )

You're unable to sleep as you toss and turn around your bed, still not use to Devildom. Mammon runs in trying to hide from Lucifer and ends up staying :)

Word count: 2250

Mammon × MC

“Ugh...” she groaned as she tossed in her bed for what felt like, and probably was, the hundredth time that night. It was now the middle of the night and she still had a hard time adapting to the Devildom atmosphere, even though she had already been here for about a month now.

As she lays there, facing the door, she hears it quickly and abruptly swing open. her eyes widen as it closes quickly, yet quietly. She sees a dark figure leaning against the door, grabbing his chest and gasping for air as he’s slowly sliding down.

“Mammon..?” she hesitantly sat up in her bed, staring at him.

“Oh MC...” he freezes, shooting his eyes open, “I was hopin’ ya weren’t gonna be awake...”

“Mammon, it's three in the morning, what happened?” she throws the covers off of herself and rushes to Mammon’s side, kneeling next to his defeated body and placing one hand on his shoulder and one on the lower part of the arm holding his chest.

He slowly calms at her touch, catching his breath and lowering his arm to his lap. “Well, haha... ya see,” after staring ahead oh himself for what seemed like forever, he began to answer her question. “I just got home and Lucifer was waitin’ for me.” he laughs to himself as he scratches the back of his neck with an awkward gesture.

She let go of his arm when he raised it up and moved back a little. “Why were you out so late? You know we have school tomorrow.” She realized that it was already past midnight, “Well, later today I guess.”

“Right, right. Sorry if I woke ya MC.” He looked down.

“No, no, it’s okay! I haven’t been able to get any sleep.” Now she was the one awkwardly laughing.

“Uh, MC?” Mammon broke her away from her awkward state and looked her in the eyes. “I, uh... can you maybe put some pants on or somethin'?” Mammon shot his gaze away and began to blush even more than before. The room was so dark that he hoped she hadn’t noticed.

She shocked and threw her hands over her mouth. She was so worried about Mammon that she had completely forgotten that she didn't have any pants on. She was wearing a large black t-shirt that Beelzebub had given to her to wear as pajamas since she came here with nothing but the clothes she was wearing.

"I- I'm- aaah!" She was a blushing mess, stammering as she rushed to her dresser and then to her bathroom to put on the gray and white pinstriped pajama shorts she had grabbed.

Mammon was giggling to himself, covering his mouth with the back of his hand as he blushed while watching her run around her room like a chicken with it's head cut off.

She walked out of the bathroom, crossing her arms and glaring at Mammon. "What's so funny??"

"You can calm down, I didn't see anythin'. I was just makin' sure ya knew..." Mammon sat up straight.

She shot her head towards the ringing D.D.D. she had left on her nightstand. Mammon immediately stood up, curious as to who was calling her at this hour.

"Hey, what's up?" she answered quickly

"What's up with me? What's up with you! Are you okay? I heard you scream along with some rustling around in your room when I walked by on the way to the kitchen." It was Beel on the other line.

"haha yeah, I'm good. Thanks for checking up on me Beel." Mammon perked up at the sound of his brother's name coming out of her mouth.

"Are you sure? I can stop by your room on the way back up if you'd like." Mammon was now practically circling around her as the conversation continued on.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Goodnight Beel." She was about to hang up when Beelzebub spoke up once again.

"Oh, Mammon's not with you by any chance, is he? I just ran into Lucifer in the hallway and he said Mammon got home late but ran and hid from him."

She looked up a Mammon, who was still trying to get her attention away from the phone; not succeeding at the least.

"No, I haven't seen Mammon all night. He's not here." Mammon paused at the sound of his name in their conversation. That means now Beel was looking for him along with Lucifer.

"Oh, alright," Beel continued, "Lucifer says if he finds out Mammon is hiding out in there you'll both be in big trouble. and he also wants you to get back to sleep. Night." Beelzebub hung up the phone and she threw her phone on the bed.

She looked right up at mammon, who looked almost guilty now for getting her involved. "How come you didn't go straight to your own room?"

"If I went to my own room Lucifer would kill me! And it's not like he'd ever think to look in here for me anyway... right?"

"Mammon you idiot, you're in here 24/7! Not to mention that the two of us are practically glued together at the sides!" Mammon began to blush at the thought of always spending time with her.

"Anyway," she continued, "Luc said that we'll both be dead if he catches you hiding out in here. We need to get up for school in a couple of hours anyway so... why don't you just chill out in here for the rest of the night?" She was blushing so bright that she thought she looked like a red glowstick in the dark room. She had just hoped Mammon didn't see the image she portrayed of herself in her head, especially since he was just staring her down now.

"Wh- what? I mean, sure, yeah... Sure I'll stay." Mammon was blushing just as much as she was, blank-minded and speechless at the fact that she even asked him to stay.

After a while of just taking, it got silent. She was hanging upside down off the side of her bed to face Mammon, while he was sitting on the sofa not that far.

"Ya know, I really hope Lucifer went to bed." they both laughed.

"Mammon it's time to get ready now, your uniform is in your room, right?" she sat up on the bed.

"Shit! I completely forgot about that! Aaaahhgg!" Mammon threw his head back on the sofa and covered his eyes with one hand. "Lucifer better be sleepin' by now 'cause I gotta go get that."

"You can stay here while I get ready and then when I leave the room for breakfast you can make a break for it." Mammon started to blush again.

"Really? I can stay until then?" his eyes widened as she got up and walked over to him.

"Of course silly," she let out a slight giggle as she cupped his face. "That's what I said you could do in the first place" she planted a small kiss to his forehead.

Both of them paused. They were blushing for the hundredth time that night.

"Alright, well," she let go and began to nervously back away and collect her things. "I'm gonna take a quick bath and start to get ready"

"Yeah, o-okay" Mammon sat there baffled. He couldn't believe what just happened. He also didn't know what to do.

On the other hand, she bent over the bathroom counter and stared at her flushed self in the mirror. "What were you THINKING!" She had just kissed Mammon out of impulse and he did nothing about it! She didn't know whether to freak out over the fact that she had done it in the first place or the fact that he didn't even respond.

She sighed as she got into the bath, trying not to think about anything at all.

Mammon pulled out his D.D.D. in order to distract himself when he noticed a few missed messages and calls. One from Beel asking where he is, and all the rest from Lucifer.

Lucifer: Mammon where are you?

Lucifer: You are aware that you cannot hide forever, correct?

Lucifer: Once I find you you know there will be hell to pay

Lucifer: And if I find out you're in MC's room they'll be hell to pay for both.

Mammon felt a shiver down his spine. He didn't understand why it was even that big of a deal how late he got home. It's not like he was bothering anyone.

"What's your problem?" He looked up and saw her standing there. She was fresh out of the bath in her uniform, towel-drying her hair.

"Oh, it's nothin'. Just checked my phone for the first time in a while and there's a ton of missed calls and messages from Lucifer."

"Ah, well, "she sat down at her vanity and began to do her makeup. "don't let ol' Luc ruin your fun." He smiled at her through the reflection of the vanity mirror.

"Hey..." Mammon's voice trailed off. "Why'd ya kiss me?"

She slowly turned to him "what do you mean why?"

He was even more confused. Mammon was trying to keep his hopes low but she was making it harder than ever.

"Mammon, I don't know if you're aware, but I like you."

"Y-you wh-what?" Mammon jumped up off the sofa.

She laughed at his reaction. "Yes, I like you!"

Mammon ran over the vanity where she was now standing, picking her up and spinning her around. "I can't believe this!"

"Shh!" she giggled as he spun her, "Don't be so loud! Luc will hear you!"

He paused his tracks and set her down. "I like you too, MC! I have for a while..." He began to blush.

"I've liked you too Mammon, I was kinda hoping you'd make the first move though." she chuckled to herself, continuing her makeup.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Sorry 'bout that." he rubbed the back of his neck as he sat back down.

"MC?" He chirped up again.

"Yeah?" she was now curling the ends of her long hair.

"Would you, uh- wanna be my girlfriend?" he was blushing yet again, but staring right at her reflection.

"of course Mammon," she turned in her chair and faced him, smiling, "I would love to be your girlfriend."

Mammon had now slipped into his room to get ready while she waited in the hallway.

"Oh, MC," Satan had come out of his room to go down for breakfast early. "What are you doing out in the hallway- and so early at that..?" A look of confusion covered her face.

"Oh, I'm waiting for mammon since we usually walk down together." she smiled.

"I see. Although I was under the impression that he never came home last night."

"He must've come home, he told me to meet me outside his room this morning for him like always." she felt Satan's gaze looking straight through her, as if trying to pick out the truth.

"Well then, carry on." he smiled and continued on his way to the dining table.

she felt a load of pressure lift off her chest. Soon after, Mammon came out. He had rushed to get ready and his tie was barely even considered a tie at that point.

She laughed and began to re-tie his tie.

"Well, you two seem awfully close this morning." Lucifer's voice had startled them.

"Oh, h-hey Lucifer," they both stood straight up and faced him.

"Good morning, Mammon. I presume you got some sleep last night? Considering you got back so late..." They knew he was pressuring them.

"Yep, of course."

"And good morning, MC. I would like to believe the same of you?" He looked her up and down.

"Good morning Lucifer," she took a small bow at the mention of his name. "It's been a little had to sleep since I've been living in Devildom, but I'll get used to it." she smiled at him.

Lucifer nodded, seemingly pleased with that answer. "Well then, I'll see you at breakfast." He continued on his way to the table. The others had passed during the conversation.

After Lucifer was out of sight, she grabbed Mammon's tie, pulling him down to her level. "H-hey, whaddya doin'?"

She smiled and gave him a little peck on the lips. "C'mon, let's get down to breakfast before we're in even more trouble."

"Ooo, MC! You're dressed up today!" Asmodeus drew attention to the two of them as they sat down in their seats.

"Haha, Thank you Asmo, you're too kind." she gave him a little wink as she served herself her food."

"So, what's the occasion?" Asmo wouldn't stop pestering until he got his deserved answer.

"Nothing in particular, just woke up early and had time. You know how it is."

"Uh-huh, sure." he rolled his eyes.

"You and Mammon are super close today too." Leviathan now inserted himself into the conversation.

"No, we're not, Levi!" Mammon yelled across the table.

"Deny it all you want Mammon, We all see it!" Asmo shot back

The morning brotherly squabbles made her happy. she began to laugh, and all the brothers slowly hushed while they turned and look towards her.

"Whaddya laughing at!?" Mammon blushed and the other boys began to giggle.

"I'm just happy to have you guys." Everyone smiled at her and she felt like she belonged there.

It was definitely best to tell them about Mammon and her another day.

Thank you for reading! Please let me know if it's too wordy or jumpy! I'd like to improve my writing so I can hopefully write another fic for you guys! 😈💕

[felicia-cat-hardy]

20 Asian American Musicians To Add To Your Playlist Now

Over the past several years, the K-pop industry in the U.S. has grown exponentially. The fan enthusiasm behind bands like BTS has drawn parallels to The Beatles, and so many K-pop groups have received the same passionate reception. The attention is well-deserved, but Asian artists represent a multitude of musical genres (even just within the K-pop industry) — a fact that should not be overlooked. Whether you're a fan of indie rock, R&B, hip-hop, or dance music, you won't want to sleep on these Asian American musicians.

Asian artists have recently received some long-deserved recognition in the entertainment industry, primarily in film. In 2020, Bong Joon-ho's Parasite won big at the Oscars. The following year, Youn Yuh-Jung won the award for Best Supporting Actress for her work in Minari, which also scored The Walking Dead alum Steven Yeun a nomination for Best Actor. However, there's still plenty of work to be done within the music landscape to ensure equal representation is achieved.

BTS, most notably, has seen unprecedented success in the U.S. Still, despite being invited to attend the last three Grammys, they've yet to take home an award, highlighting the discrepancy between their immense success and the Recording Academy's willingness to acknowledge it. Additionally, Asian artists have a harder time landing record deals. As American Idol alumni Paul Kim explained to The New York Times, he was blatantly told by industry execs he would have been signed to a label faster had he not been Asian.

By streaming these artists, you're not only supporting them and their art, but you're subsequently showing industry insiders just how valuable they are. Consider this list sonic proof Asian artists are making exceptional, diverse music that can't be boxed into one genre or sound. Each of these artists prides themselves on breaking boundaries and creating their own rules. You may have heard of a few, but many have been flying under the radar for far too long. Your ears will thank you soon enough.

Melissa Polinar

Polinar got her start in the late 2000s when viral YouTube covers paved the way for success. While artists like Justin Bieber and Lennon & Maisy were sharing music covers, Polinar focused on posting her original music — and her soulful vocals were a hit. In 2019, the Filipino-American songwriter actually re-recorded one of the songs that propelled her career forward, "Try," on its 10-year anniversary.

Eric Nam

Born and raised in Atlanta, Nam moved to Korea to pursue music because he felt he had a better chance of succeeding there. “Even if you look at American Idol, or X-Factor, or The Voice or anything, it was always difficult to see an Asian or an Asian-American make it to a certain point,” Nam told TIME in November 2019. Today, Nam is a highly visible and respected name in the K-pop industry. While he's very proud of his K-pop success, he considers himself a pop singer first. He hopes to grow his success stateside and told TIME, "I want people to hear my music and say, 'I don’t know who this person is,' and I could be Black, white, Latino, Asian — it doesn’t matter, but it’s just a great pop song."

Clinton Kane

Kane's got every making of a great singer-songwriter, and his lyricism will make a fan out of loyal Ed Sheeran or Sam Smith listeners. The Filipino-American singer's impressive vocal range captivates, and his emotion-driven lyrics will melt your heart. One of his more popular tracks, "Chicken Tendies," has upwards of 2 million views and is a must-add to your heartbreak playlist.

Jhené Aiko

As a mixed-race Japanese, Creole, Dominican, and European woman, Aiko has proudly championed her diverse roots throughout her accomplished career. The R&B singer is a six-time Grammy-nominated artist and is well respected within the industry for her philanthropic endeavors. She launched the WAYS foundation in 2017, an organization dedicated to helping cancer patients and their families.

Steve Aoki

Steve Aoki is hardly a newcomer to the EDM scene, but as one of the most prominent DJs in the industry, and one of the biggest Japanese DJs ever, it would be a crime to leave him off this list. Aoki even has his own record label and, in 2016, Netflix released I'll Sleep When I'm Dead, a documentary about his career.

Karen O

As the lead singer for the rock band Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Karen O has solidified her spot as a rock music legend. Not only is the Korean-American singer's discography with the band a must-listen for any rock music fan, but her 2019 album with Danger Mouse, Lux Prima, earned her a Grammy nomination for Best Rock Performance.

H.E.R.

Hailing from the San Francisco Bay Area, H.E.R. (aka Gabi Wilson) has become one of the most prominent names in R&B. At just 23 years old, the singer-songwriter already has four Grammy wins and 13 nominations. Along the way, she's never shied away from praising her Filipino mother and Black father, Agnes and Kenny Wilson, for giving her the unique perspectives that propelled her musical success.

Toro Y Moi

Toro Y Moi is actually one person (Chaz Bear) and he's become the unofficial king of chillwave. Born to a Filipino mother, the South Carolina native later relocated to California to further his music career. If you need some chill vibes on your playlist, Bear's got you covered.

Ruby Ibarra

Ibarra is a Filipino-American rapper from San Lorenzo, California who also dabbles in spoken word poetry. Her music is meaningful in more ways than one. A number of her songs touch upon her experience as an Asian American woman. In April 2021, she released a powerful song and video called "Gold" with Ella Jay Basco, which exposed the harmful effects of the skin whitening industry.

Ella Jay Basco

You may recognize Basco from her appearance in Birds of Prey, but her music is not to be slept on because it's making major waves. Her song "Gold" with Ruby Ibarra highlights her Filipino heritage. As she told People, "From top to bottom, we wanted to make sure that our Asian-American community was represented with this project."

Mitski

Meet your new favorite alt-rock queen. Mitski's dreamy melodies appeal to the indie-rock crowd more than anything, and, if you're a sucker for a sad bop, this Japanese-American songstress has plenty of those stacked up.

Yaeji

Yaeji was born in Flushing, Queens in 1993 and grew up between the U.S. and Korea. Since she moved around so much as a kid, she found friendship on the internet, where she first connected with the bossa nova, jazz, and Korean indie music that drove much of the Korean DIY scene. She soon returned to the States to attend college, where she discovered a love for producing and DJing. Now, she meticulously blends hip-hop elements with her house-driven sound for a listening experience that is unlike anything else.

Hayley Kiyoko

Kiyoko has been given the nickname Lesbian Jesus since she’s so outspoken about LGBTQ+ representation in the music industry. The Japanese-American singer is a true trailblazer and her pop music genius has landed her hits with Kehlani, MAX, and AJR.

Jay Park

Park is an industry heavyweight. The Seattle native got his start in the K-pop industry as part of the band 2PM, but he went solo in 2009. Today, not only does the star have dozens of hits under his belt, but he has two record labels of his own that specialize in R&B and hip-hop music: AOMG and H1ghr. Park uses his superstar status to give others the spotlight, and he's put his support behind other artists like GOT7's JAY B and Yugyeom, and Raz Simone. Whether you're a self-proclaimed K-pop stan, or you're just recently getting acquainted with the genre, Park's discography is required listening.

Jin Au-Yeung

Born and raised in North Miami Beach, Florida, the Chinese-American rapper, aka MC Jin, has some seriously impressive accolades under his belt. After becoming popular among his musical peers for his epic freestyles, he was signed to Ruff Ryders in 2002 at just 19 years old, becoming the first Asian American solo rapper to be signed to a major record label in the U.S. He's since parted ways with the label and now travels back and forth between the U.S. and Hong Kong, seeing success in both places. In May 2021, the rapper released a single called "Stop the Hatred" with Wyclef Jean to raise awareness about hate crimes toward Asian Americans amid the coronavirus pandemic.

Olivia Rodrigo

Rodrigo needs no introduction, but I'll do it anyway: This Filipino-American actress-turned-singer-songwriter's mega-hit debut single "drivers license" was unavoidable in January 2021. Its heartbreakingly relatable lyrics about a crush moving on with someone else struck listeners to their core and immediately soared to No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100. It also went viral on TikTok, before making its way into a Saturday Night Live sketch. Rodrigo's songwriting skills have fans likening her to industry heavyweights like Taylor Swift, so it's no surprise her debut album, Sour, is one of the most highly-anticipated albums of summer 2021.

Run River North

Run River North is not just one musician, but three. The band formerly known as Monsters Calling Home is an indie rock band from Los Angeles. The group has an eclectic sound that draws inspiration from each member: Daniel Chae, Alex Hwang, and Sally Kang.

ZHU

When ZHU first entered the electronic music scene, he used an alias and remained anonymous. By 2014, the artist also known as Steven Zhu was ready to share his identity with the world. ZHU got his start in San Francisco, California, but has made his mark on the EDM scene globally.

Darren Criss

Criss rose to fame starring on the television series Glee and he's since proven himself to be a true triple threat. His work can be seen across TV, film, and music. In September of 2018, Criss became the first Filipino-American to win an Emmy in the lead actor category for his portrayal of Andrew Cunanan in FX's The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story. He’s also got several full-fledged EPs under his belt.

Amber Liu

Amber Liu (also known mononymously as Amber) is of Taiwanese descent and grew up in Los Angeles. She made a big splash when debuting as a member of the K-pop girl group f(x) in September 2009, but has since gone solo. Her 2019 solo track "Other People" racked up millions of streams, and she’s gearing up to drop her first album of 2021, called y?, very soon. In the meantime, she’s continuing to grow her superstar following on social media, where she has 5 million Instagram followers and over 2.3 million on Twitter.

Get Relationship Advice Here

[carriagelamp]

September Book Roundup, back-to-school edition aka The Season Of Red apparently?

Here is a selection of the books I’ve read this month. Summer is over, so the little bit of brain power I had managed to scrape together is quickly disintegrating, so enjoying the hodge podge of stories.

Binti

This was probably my favourite book that I read this month. It’s a novella I first heard about hear on tumblr and went to find a copy in my library. I have since bought the collected trilogy so I can read book two and three at my leisure because it was honestly just that friggin cool. This is exactly my flavour of scifi and I tend to be very very picky about the scifi I consume. It’s about a girl named Binti, a member of the Himba people (a real group of indigenous people from Namibia). They are a people well known for their mathematical and technical prowess, but due to their strong connection to their homeland and the earth they choose not to travel through space like so many other humans do. However, when Binti secures a position at Oomza University, the greatest university in the galaxy, she chooses to go against her family’s wishes and traditions in order to set out into space to attend. Everything is ruined though when her spaceship is attacked by a hostile alien race and everyone is killed but Binti, who must rely on all her intellect and abilities if she wants any chance at survival.

A seriously cool book with great world building – it really successfully introduces readers not only to the fictional scifi world and races of the novel but also to the culture and traditions of the Himba people. It’s a quick read, and feels like a cross between Dead Space and Tamora Pierce. Would totally recommend a read.

Fake Blood

A Canadian graphic novel. It was a goofy cute read. It’s about an awkward group of friends in middle school, and one boy with a crush on one of the girls in his class. Knowing her love for vampire stories, AJ decides, like any self-respecting middle schooler, to try to pretend he’s a vampire. Naturally nothing goes right and some things go wrong in unexpected ways. It’s funny and cute. Nothing amazing but it was a cozy evening read.

The Last Book On The Left

I’ve been listening to this podcast a lot since my friend recommended it to me and finally decided to read their book. For those that don’t know, The Last Podcast On The Left is a immaculately researched comedy podcast that’s hosted by Ben Kissel, Marcus Parks, and Henry Zebrowski, and explores the darker realms of human nature. Ghosts, paranormal, aliens, cults, and of course serial killers. In this book they collected several of their biggest name serial killer series, did some renewed research, and put together a book that is both informative, irreverent, gross, and very funny, complete with some really amazing illustrations by Tom Neely. A very cool read (and listen, if you decide to check out the podcast instead), I really love how they tell these stories without idolizing or romanticizing the people they talk about. Their humour always makes sure you know exactly how much of a pathetic loser these people are. Fantastic true crime, from someone who has never really felt the need to read about true crime before.

Midnight Sun

I won’t harp on this one, everyone is already going to firmly have their opinions here. I grew up on Twilight, I was reading them as they came out, and I still love them. Were they dumb? Oh my god yes. Did they have problems? Sure, they came out in 2005 it was part and parcel. Were they also a really fun for a thirteen year old to read? Absolutely, I don’t regret it. Sometimes teenage girls should just to get like things without being mocked.

Anyway, I am off my soapbox now (can you tell this is still a raw spot for me?) I unironically loved this book! Getting to see Edward’s perspective was really cool, and since he can read minds it essentially let you get the perspective of everyone else around him too. The Cullens family is a great set of characters so it was really cool to see more of them, and I was very impressed by how Stephenie Meyers took a YA romance she wrote in 2005 and was able to make it feel updated and more appropriate for a 2020 audience even though she couldn’t actually change any of the events themselves. So fans of Twilight, don’t be ashamed, go read Midnight Sun and have the shameless fun you deserve. Is there anymore appropriate book for the bizarre ass year that was 2020 than a return to this goofy nonsense?

The Paperbag Princess

(and Up, Up, Down, and Robert Munsch in general)

I’m back in schools so I’m back to reading children’s book! And honestly, and of you that don’t occasionally sit down and read a kids book out loud don’t know what you’re missing. Anyway, Robert Munsch is a Canadian author, and one of my all-time favourite children’s authors. It surprised me to learn he isn’t as well known in the States apparently? I don’t know if that’s changed or not, but he is a Canadian staple for a good reason, his books have ridiculous premises, are specifically written to be fun to read out loud, and have beautiful, involved, and hilarious illustrations. The Paperbag Princess is one of my absolute favourites, and as a kid it was one of the first stories I had ever read where a princess is the one saving the prince… and then telling the prince to piss off when it turns out he’s a jerk. Up, Up, Down is another favourite I reread this month, because it’s just hilarious funny and makes a fantastic read aloud with kids. Some other Robert Munsch I reread this month include: Mmm, Cookies, More Pies, Ribbon Rescue, Just One Goal, and Andrew’s Loose Tooth. You just cannot go wrong, for kids or adults.

Pit Pony

Another Canadian staple while I was growing up. If you’re a young adult know who went through the Canadian elementary school system, you probably had your entire heart ripped out and stepped on by this chapter book. It’s a historical fiction that looks at the economic hardship, debt slavery, child labour, and animal abuse that was tied to coal mining in the Maritimes. Finding a copy was harder than I would have expected give how pervasive it was a decade or so back, but reading it again was a pure shot of nostalgia.

Seeking Refuge

A graphic novel written by a German-born Canadian about a Jewish girl who flees Nazi-occupied Austria by way of Kindertransport to become a child refuge in England. It follows her as she is moved from host family to host family as the war continues to pick up and gradually makes it’s way to the United Kingdom as well. It’s very poignant and the pencil-sketch illustrations are an interesting change to a lot of the graphic novels that are out right now. This story is still aimed at a younger audience, so it never gets too brutal but it still is a hard hitting story, especially with everything else going on right now.

Silver Spoon #9/10

I know I’ve talked about these books before, but my library got some more since I last read them, so I’m continuing my way through the series. It’s about a teenaged boy who, after having a breakdown from the pressure he was feeling to study and succeeded, decided not to attend an academic, urban high school, but rather to apply for an agricultural high school so he could live in the dorms, far away from his parents. The series just gets more and more heartwarming as it continues. It’s all about failure and overcoming and how worth can be measured in different ways, and about family and understanding each other and coming together… but also about the realities of farming which aren’t always very nice, especially when it comes to finances and survival. It’s written by the mangaka behind Fullmetal Alchemist but I’ll be honest… I think I like this series more. It is honestly one of my all time favourite manga series, it just has so much heart.

Ruby Finds A Worry

aka Ruby’s Worry apparently? I can’t figure out why this has more than one title. I actually read it in French not English, so for me it was Le Souci de Calie. Regardless, this was a nice little picture book for talking about worries and anxieties with children… especially with the amount of Covid stress a lot of kids are dealing with. It explains in a really nice way how talking about anxieties are often the best way to make them more manageable, and how pretending nothing is wrong can just let it grow bigger and bigger. A good explanation for kids and possible a good reminder for adults.

War of the Realms: Journey Into Mystery

I read this because the Mcelroy family wrote it so I figured Hey! Why not give it a go! And I’m glad I did. Their brand of humour was all over it, and it made the story a delight to read. I don’t follow all of Marvel’s weirdness, so I didn’t actually know most of the characters (Miles and Kate were actually the only two I was familiar with) but they do a great job of introducing the characters and making them all feel distinct and interesting. I absolutely adore the Dog of Gods (God of Dogs) who is a very very good boy. And Miles is absolutely always a delight so you can’t really lose. It’s a single book that I think is a part of a larger plotline that I have zero interest in. This book is a fine one to read though if you don’t mind jumping into the middle of the action and just getting swept along for the ride. Also Mcelroys!

Witcher Omnibus

Bleh. Absolutely not worth it. All the misogyny and Dumb Bullshit that I hate in the original books and from video games in general. Honestly, Witcher III did way better by its characters than most of these short stories. The only one worth reading in it is Curse Of Crows – that one was actually really enjoyable, probably because it was about Ciri and had an actual fucking woman on the writing team. (Seriously guys what were you thinking with Fox Children that’s literally just a story from Season of Storms but done worse. Fuck off.) If you like The Witcher, go read Curse of Crows and skip every other story in this book.

Billy Stuart: Les Zintrépides #1

Another French (Quebecois) book I read, though I believe you can get it in English as well (Billy Stuart and the Zintrepids). It’s a chapter book / graphic novel hybrid, and was honestly a fairly fun little read. It’s in a similar vein to Geronimo Stilton but done much better in my opinion. The humour was funnier, the characters felt less like caricatures, and while it still used stylized fonts it was also less intrusive and eye-strainy than the Stilton books. Also when the story suddenly pivots into the main adventure and mystery of the series? Fantastic. Was not expecting a hell-beast to appear part way through the story. Very interested in reading more.

Over all, it was cute and funny, and I can see it being a good next step when children have read their fill of the Stilton series and want something similar but possibly a bit more involved and coherent.

[pinkanonwrites]

Hi! Could I maybe request an ushijima s/o? Where goshiki is lowkey fangirling over Y/N and toshi isn't particularly happy with you giving him all the attention? Anyways I love ur writing and I do enjoy reading them! But I hope u take care of urself!!! Drink plenty of water! 💜

This is cute! I’ve gotta say, Ushijima has really grown on me recently, so it’s a good time for me to write for him! (Also if anyone wants to rq anything for Goshiki please do, I love him a lot)

Ushijima Wakatoshi

“Good form, Goshiki-kun!”

“O-Oh! Thank you, senpai!”

Don’t get him wrong, Ushijima was happy that you got along with the rest of the Shiratorizawa volleyball team so well. He was especially appreciative that on days off from your own club you would come and spot for the volleyball team, taking tips that he had taught you before to help the first-years with their form. But he couldn’t say he was completely happy with the way Goshiki seemed to tail after you like a baby duckling, eagerly seeking your approval.

Approval that you seemed more than happy to shower him with, complimenting his form and spikes, encouraging him to try even harder, cheering for him when he finally succeeded in his round of receives.

“Looking a little tense, Waka-kun.~” Tendou sauntered over, about to drape an arm over Ushijima’s shoulders, which he quickly walked out of reach of as he prepared the run-up for his next spike. It felt...off, not being the center of your attention. Ushijima didn’t want to admit how much he disliked it.

At the end of practice, you and Goshiki were gathering up stray volleyballs, piling them into one of the rolling carts as the other boys swept and dismantled the net.

“Good work today, Goshiki. Your cut shot is looking really impressive!”

He beamed, dropping the volleyball he was holding as he bowed a near ninety-degree angle to you. “Thank you senpai! That means so much coming from you!”

“Looks like Goshiki’s got a new idol.” Semi joked, gently elbowing Ushijima as he walked past. Before he could say anything in response, you were jogging up to him with a smile.

“Ready to go, Toshi?”

“Yes. Let’s go.”

He seemed tense as the two of you headed home. Of course, he always seemed a little bit tense. But you’d gotten to know him well enough to tell the difference between when he was lost in thought and when he was genuinely concerned.

“Toshi? What’s on your mind?”

He remained silent for a long moment, before finally speaking. “The team is... very fond of you.”

“Really? Awesome!” You grabbed his hand, playfully swinging your arms back and forth. “I was a little worried, I really wanted to get along with your friends.”

“And Goshiki?”

“Huh? What about him?”

“You two get along well.”

“Oh!” You chuckled, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Aw, Toshi, I didn’t take you for the jealous type. Don’t worry, I think he just really wants my approval because we’re dating, you know? He really looks up to you.”

“Hm.”

“And we’re graduating soon! I can’t leave your precious volleyball team in untrained hands, can I?”

He didn’t respond, but when you glanced up Ushijima had his chin tucked down in the high collar of his jersey jacket, the barest hint of pink to his cheeks. Without looking he gave your hand a firm squeeze in response.

“Thank you. We appreciate it. Me especially.”

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his upper arm and clinging tight. “Don’t worry, tomorrow I’ll be sure to pay extra, extra attention while you play. You’re my favorite, after all!”

He let out a single, nearly inaudible chuckle. “I look forward to it.”

[itzagothamcitysiren]

Welcome to the Family

So this chapter was a little harder to write. Its pretty action based and I’m still learning how to write stuff like that with it making sense lol. Hopefully this is as entertaining and good(?lol?) as the previous chapters lol. 

Never Wanted to be Here Now pt. 6           

The breath that found itself hitched in the back of Halley’s throat refused to release as she looked between her father and Dick. Her eyes eventually settled back to stare at the cold metal her father pressed against Jason’s head. Sure, the two didn’t get along, but she didn’t want to be the one responsible for his death. She felt a wave of relief when she saw that Dick was on the same page as her, standing a few steps before her. It faded quickly as the sudden hope appeared when her father spoke again,

           “You have no idea how much it pains me to see you standing with him. You have no idea.” Her hands felt like they had pins and needles as she clenched and unclenched them, biting the inside of her check. Slade put his finger on the trigger, leaning in to rest his chin on the top of Jason’s head, “If you only knew what the Titans really were, you might not be acting like an ignorant child.”

           Halley wanted to question what he meant but she was too afraid to speak. She’d grown into the habit of feeling safe speaking her mind but with Dick, not her father. She looked to Dick, seeing him visibly tense as her father spoke. She knew there was a reason why her father always hated the Titans but she never dared to ask. But the venom in his tone, the look he was now shooting Dick, told her that she was missing out on something big and she wanted to know. Looking at her father again, she found her voice, “Tell me then, help me understand why you hate them so much!”

           Deathstroke chuckled, grasping Jason tighter. Before practically spitting as he snarled at Dick, “Why don’t you ask him? What do you say Grayson? Why don’t you tell her what you and your band of hero’s did? Ask him about Jericho.”

           Dick let his shoulders slump forward. He had no way out of this situation and if there even was one, his mind was too clouded to see it. He turned to face the young girl he grew to care so much for, already knowing that this wasn’t going to end well. Dick had tried too hard to make up for his past sins and he thought helping her would be his clean slate but inside he just created even more of a mess. Now another innocent kid was going to pay for his mistakes. No wonder Bruce replaced him so quickly.

           “Before we met,” Dick started, licking his lips. He ignored Deathstroke’s victorious look plastered on his face; he knew he was going to win.  Dick could only hope that her time with them gave some chance of changing her and she wouldn’t go back to her father once she found out what the Titans did all those years ago. “Deathstroke was hired to kill one of the Titans and he succeeded. We wanted revenge. I-I began researching him; found out he had a family. A wife and a son.”

           “Whaa-at?” Halley gasped, never hearing about any of this before. She glared up at her father, her nostril’s flaring. She didn’t remember going on a mission to kill a Titan, not a paid mission anyway. There were sometimes when he would go off on his own and leave her alone for some time. Sometimes he’d go for months on end or somethings just a couple of days. He’d leave her with his friend Wintergreen. She knew he’d take jobs without her during these times but it could be very well that he had been off as well with this supposed family of his. Running her a hand through her messy hair, she spoke again, “What is he talking about?”

           Deathstroke stared at her without a response before prompting Grayson to continue, wanting to shift her anger and betrayal at him. Dick looked at her in pity, before shaking his head. He wasn’t going to do this to her, not here. He turned to Deathstroke, turning his hands into fists.

            “You can just kill me. That’s what you want, we’re not doing this.” He said firmly, clamping his jaw.

           “Coward,” Deathstroke laughed. “You see this, daughter? He can’t even tell you the truth. You think he cares about you but he couldn’t even tell you how he’s the reason why your brother is dead.”

           “I did it to protect you,” he said, turning back to look at her with pleading eyes. “I was going to tell you when I thought you were ready. You were still healing, still adjusting.”

           Halley looked in between the two, not knowing who to listen to or to even just look at. Her heart was pumping and could only chalk this all up as being a very bad, bad dream. She just wanted to close her eyes and wake up but the pain she felt in her chest told her that it’d just be a waste. This wasn’t a dream. She was angry and hurt towards both of them. They were both liars. Her father was many things but he never lied to her. And Dick? Dick was the last person she’d ever think would lie to her.

           Sighing, she thought about how he did actually just lie to her about the team’s mission to go after her father. But that was different, he had just did that to protect her. Like how he just said he didn’t tell her about whatever this was in order to protect her. He introduced her to the man who is basically his father and gave her a home. She squinted at Dick, her face unreadable to him as she thought about the lengths he went to try and avoid this from even happening. He kept her in the dark about what sparked his and Deathstroke’s feud, sure. But he did it because he cared and he’s proven time and time again that he did in fact care for her. What the fuck was her father’s excuse?

           Her eyes flickered to the ground. Her sight landed on her father’s fallen gun from when Dick disarmed him moments ago. Without warning she jumped for it, grabbing the gun. Cocking it, she aimed at her father, her stance steady and stern. Dick took a step towards her, not wanting her to take a shot. He didn’t want her to do it for her own sake but he didn’t want the situation to escalate with Jason still in Deathstroke’s hands.

           She saw Dick move and quickly switch her target, pointing the gun at him. He raised his hands up, taking a step back again, “Halley-,”

           “No, you shut up.” She ordered, jerking the gun forward for emphasis. Turning her head to her father she now brought her attention to him, “Let Todd go and I’ll shot Grayson.”

           “No one gives payment until the job they want is done.” Her father smirked, scoffing. Her care for the boy in his grasps was sickening but somewhat enduring.

           “Not this time.” She said firmly and her father felt like he was once again talking to the girl he once trained. “Let him go and I swear I’ll do it. Out of everyone in this room, I’m the only one who isn’t a fuckin liar.”

           Deathstroke grinned, putting the gun back in its holster and shoving Jason away from him. He crossed his arms against his chest when the boy landed onto the ground. He looked up as Halley turned to face Dick, who still had his hands up but now wore a look of dread. He didn’t want to lose her to this but he also didn’t want to test her by talking again. But he had to defuse the situation.

           “You don’t have to do this; you don’t work for him anymore.” His face pleaded with her along with his soft voice.

           Halley just tightened her grip on the gun putting her finger on the trigger. Without giving her a chance to back out she pulled the trigger. The sound of Jason’s voice screaming out at her was almost muted by the cracking sound of the bullet leaving the barrel. Dick had no time to react, face frozen as the bullet flew right past his head. She missed.

           “Opps, stupid me. Let me try again,” She spat, rapidly jerking her body towards her father now opening fire on him.

           Deathstroke jolted backwards, the bullets impeding themselves in his armor. Dick used the distraction to get to Jason. Picking the boy up in his arms, he threw them behind a set of boxes for cover. He checked over his wound, ordering him to stay put as he put pressure on it. Jason was losing too much blood. As Dick fussed over him, Jason peered around the box, eyes wide in amazement as he watched the fight ensue in front of them.

           Halley howled in rage, dodging and jumping out of the way of her father’s bullets, making her way closer and closer to him. She let out another shot, pulling the trigger and only hearing a click. Being out of bullets didn’t stop her though. Without a hesitation, she chucked the gun at him, smacking him dead in the face. He stumbled back, disorientated and giving her the chance to reach him. He felt proud when she reached for another one of his knives that was strapped on him.

           “Was she my mother?” Halley spat, ducking out of the way of a punch.

           Slade knew she was asking about his wife, the one that Nightwing barely mentioned. He had a look of amusement, taking a step forward. Grabbing her head, he brought his knee up to her face. Still holding onto her he let his fist hit her in the gut again before shoving her stumbling backwards.

           “No.” Was all his said, his voice monotone.

           Grunting, using the back of her hand to wipe the blood gushing out of her nose, Halley gripped the knife in her hand tighter before jutting forward. “Who’s my mother than? You say Nightwing is a coward; how he can’t tell me anything but either can you!” She spat in-between jabs.

           Needing to teach her a lesson in obedience, he aimed his gun at her knees but her reaction time impressed him. His arm was pushed up just as he took the shot. As the bullet landed past them somewhere, he barred his teeth, “You don’t deserve to know. You haven’t proven you’re ready to meet her yet and if you keep this tantrum up you never will!”

           Not liking his answer Halley used the hand grasping his wrist and twisted it, hearing a satisfying snap. Her father made a disgruntled sound before being forced to drop the gun. She kicked it away, using her other hand to dig the knife she held into the part of his forearm that wasn’t covered by armor. She kept pressing it in deeper and deeper, her father’s cries sounding like music to her ears.

           “I’ll never be good enough for you!” She snarled, enthralled by his pain. “No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried to please you! I was never good enough!” She was going to kill him and she couldn’t wait.

            All the years of torment and pain. All the years of being told she wasn’t enough. All the years he took away from her having a semblance of a normal life would be made up for in one moment. She took out the knife, swiping towards his neck as she did. Before the blade could reach skin, he used his good hand to entangle a hand in her hair, gripping tight. He always went for that, she cursed.

             Even with his wrist broken from her he used it to slap the knife out of her hand. Ripping her back, she could only allow him to move her around like a puppeteer. He raised a leg up, landing a hard kick on her chest.

           “Ungrateful child,” he sneered at her.

           She quickly got her footing, standing up straight with her hands clenched into fists at her side. She didn’t know what possessed her to do it. There were at least a hundred other moves she could’ve used as an attack but they didn’t seem as satisfying. Hacking back, she spat at him, smiling when she saw the mixture of spit and blood slap him against his face. She didn’t regret it, even when he wiped it away with a truly fighting look in his eyes.

           With an oof, she then hit the floor and was pinned there by a heavy boot on her neck. Gasping for air, she clawed at his ankle but he shifted his weight forward. He watched her eyes start to turn hazy from the panic and lack of oxygen. He looked up to where Dick had been hiding, seeing the idiot start to stand.

           “Let a father teach his daughter a lesson in respect.” He turned back to his daughter.  “You are in no condition to fight, Grayson.”

           “Hasn’t stopped me before,” Nightwing winced, trying to keep up the charm he was known for. He took a step forward, ready to get back at it but jumped at the sound of broken glass. Looking up he smirked, “Bout damn time.”

           Deathstroke looked up at the intruder from above. Batman landed gracefully but fiercely in front of the Wilsons. His eyes bore down at the girl who was clearly struggling to breathe. Back up to the father, Batman’s eyes still stood their normal stoic self’s but behind them held a look of pity and animosity. His stance didn’t falter when the assassin released his step on his daughter and began to circle the bat.

           “That was quite an entrance,” Deathstroke taunted, holstering his gun and reaching for his sword again. “It mustn’t be that great for the knees though, I can imagine.” Deathstroke figured that Batman would show up eventually but he had at least hoped to be on schedule and one of the bat brats would be dead by now. No matter, he’d kill them all.

           The pair engaged in battle, Batman shouting for Nightwing to get the two teenagers out of the warehouse and to the bat mobile. He didn’t have to tell Dick twice as he helped Jason stand, slinging an arm underneath his armpit and around his back to help him walk. Hurriedly, he made his way to the clearly distraught girl who was already reaching was her father’s discarded gun. Dick put his foot on it as she was about to grasp it. She shot him up a glare.

           “You aren’t a killer. Not anymore.” He told her holding out his hand for her to take. “Let’s go home.”

           She swatted his hand away, pushing his foot off the gun but failed when he pushed down on it harder. She stood up and pushed his chest. “I’m going to kill him!”

           “No, you aren’t.” It was Jason this time that spoke. Halley and Dick were taken aback, looking at him, the sound of Deathstroke and Batman clashing behind them echoing over his voice. “That’s what he wants you to do and last time I checked you didn’t want to be his little minion anymore. You’re better than him.”

           Halley faltered, looking at her father as Batman dealt a harsh punch to his face. She looked back at Jason, “But he has to pay-,”

           “You’re such a fuckin’ dork.” Jason shook his head, the blood lose finally getting to him as he began to get dizzy. “Batman’s literally here to save you and you’re going to go try and kill someone? Around here that’s how you end up in prison or Arkham.”

           A soft smile reached her face but before she could respond, Batman let out a painful grunt. He stood a few feet away from Deathstroke, the assassin using him as if he was a wall to kick off of. Batman stood watching and waiting for his next move, watching as Wilson reached into one of his pouches on his belt. Pulling out a small device, he smirked up at the vigilantes and his daughter. Without a word he clicked a button.

           “You have a choice to make.” He said to his daughter, showing off the clock on the device that was now displaying a countdown. He had rigged this place to blow as a last resort. “Are you coming or are you staying?”  

           “Is that really even a question?” She spat.

           Deathstroke nodded, with a twisted smile and shake of his head. What a disappointment she turned out to be. Looking up, he spoke to Batman now, “You can keep her; take your little birds, we’re done here.”

           Batman watched as he backed up, moving to leave them. He thought about going back take him down but decided against it. Jason and Dick needed medical attention. And the building was also about to blow. He nodded towards Dick, before leading them towards an entrance he had scoped out before coming in from above. He passed Halley, noting the girl watching after her father as he disappeared into the shadows.  He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

           “Let’s go home.”

[chidoroki]

TPN ch180

(spoilers! i'm so broken)

I didn't want to be right. I didn't want to actually believe that Emma was lying. If anything, I thought she was just lying about staying with her family when they crossed over to the human world, knowing she would be separated, but this.. oh my god. This girl knew ever since ch143 that she was going to lose her memories of her family and straight up lied to them about it. Granted, only a few days passed from when she returned from The 7 Walls up until they all crossed over to the human world, but still, I.. don't know how to feel. I knew since the prison break she had great acting skills so I'm impressed that she managed to pull off yet another wonderful performance, but wow.. I really hoped she wouldn't! To keep such an important and life changing secret from her family, who are all so important to her, I can't imagine how hard it must have been for her knowing this while dealing with the entire capital attack and GF plantation raid. Fighting so hard and succeeding in achieving a bright, happier future for everyone but herself.. ow, my heart.

Some people are fine with the memory loss, others aren't. If anything, at least she's the only one who forgot? I think it would've been worse if everyone else forgot about Emma instead, so having the promise only hurt her is fine.. well, it's not, clearly, but you get what I mean.

And if demon god wasn't on my nerves enough already, the little prat decides to basically photoshop every family member out of the photos Emma kept this entire time. I'm touched she still had the photos in her possession, but now this upsets me so much. Upon seeing the first set of raws and learning Emma lost her memories, I hoped that she could possibly remember them by looking back at these photos if she still had them. But no. Demon god doesn't want me to be happy or get my hopes up. It would've been such a cool idea though. We know Ray originally requested the camera because he needed to strobe for the taser, but he continued to take pictures, not only to keep up the act to prevent Isabella from getting suspicious, but to give said photos to Emma because he knew how important their family is to her. I would've loved it if something so important from the first couple arcs came back at the very end to help Emma regain her memories.

Not only that, but demon god also got rid of her id number? Like.. really? I don't know why that bothers me so much but it does. I know the id brands just proved that the kids were meant to be nothing but food. Of course I know that they're all so much more than that and I should be happy Emma lost hers, because it truly means she's free, but the number was a part of her you know? It would've been fine if every cattle child lost their identifier, but since it was only her it makes me think demon god wanted it to be that much harder for Emma to remember her past and family. That's what bothers me. That even now, after they all crossed over and don't have to deal with demons anymore, demon god still has the audacity ability to make Emma suffer. If she still had her number, I'm sure she would've questioned it, much like Ray did when he was younger (my mind thinks back to ch28, that one memory of him looking at his neck in a mirror). Maybe she would've realized that the people in her dreams also have the same neck numbers, if only faintly. (it must be so weird for Demizu to draw Emma now and not include her number after all this time)

That leads me to wonder if Emma has questioned the rest of her appearance yet. I would assume she's still missing her left ear, since her hair is still covering that side, so does she ever wonder about why it's missing? What about the scars on her body? We personally haven't seen them, but you can't tell me her back and abdomen looks perfect and clean after getting stabbed by Lewis. Yes I know, scars heal with time, but the scar on Lucas' face was still recognizable after 13 years. Same with Zack and his many unfading scars. So does Emma question where hers came from?

Moving on, a month passes and still no memories, however Musica's necklace seems to be the cause of Emma's vivid dreams, like it somehow brings life to her feelings. We see the necklace constantly, not only because Emma wears it, but on volume covers and other color pages as well. It's always been shown off as this important item and yet it hasn't really served a purpose yet. Emma recieved the necklace back in ch51 and the only thing its done so far was show her that one old vision at Cuvitidala in ch101. It'll be a real easy way to solve everything by having the necklace just conveniently bring back her memories, so I get why some people might not like the idea, but at this point I'd be fine with it.

Figures she would end up in the human world with someone who can sympathize with her pain. Old dude lost his family due to war but at least he can remember them. He asks if Emma would want to see her family, if they're alive, and she remains unsure and lost. She doesn't know who these dream people are to her, why they call out "Emma" or why it makes her feel better.

This panel.. this one right here is what breaks me. Our girl is so upset and she can't even understand why. We know why you're crying hun, it's because you miss your family. Your memories may have faded but your feelings for them still live on with you! I have no doubt that love you just as much too! My poor girl, someone send me her location so I can go and hug her!

Emma might have given up trying to remember who she was and live a new life, but if she did encounter her family again, I hope she would be excited to meet them as new people. Maybe they could all start over. Over time they could gently remind her of her past, and if Emma truly can't remember, I hope they'll accept her regardless.

And a name change? I'm.. mmm frustrated. Yeah it makes sense since she couldn't remember hers and would need a new one anyway, but aahh, really? No id identifier, no memories, no name; it's like she's a new character. I was never a fan of the amnesia trope, like she's such a great character and gets built up wonderfully, and now it's like you reset her to zero. Yeah I know, deep down she's still the happy go lucky girl we all know and love, who's strong and capable to still smile even now, but.. man, idk anymore. This whole chapter hurts me.

There's a dim light at the end of the tunnel because we get a glimpse of Ray, Gilda and.. at first I thought it was Don but that person is way too short, so Phil? Regardless, I gotta give them some credit. It may have been a couple months, (remember, old dude said he could't call for help until spring and there's flowers in the ground now) but they've already managed to find where she might be in this new, large world. Please, turn around though! She's so close to you guys, she's right there! Notice her antenna or something, I beg you!

Demon god said that even if Emma met her family, she wouldn't remember them, but I still have small hopes. Emma claim's she stopped having the dreams and given up trying to remember her past, but maybe that short amount of time believing in them was enough. Aside from the necklace which connected her feelings to her unconscious mind, the five sense can also recall memories. Perhaps if she heard her name now, outside of a dream, something in her mind will click. Maybe she would get that warm feeling again she once longed for. Sense of smell and taste are usually most effective in bringing back memories so maybe just being near them or having them cook for her could also help. I know the sense of touch usually works for when you personally touch something, but if it's possible to also recall memories by being touched, then please, for the love of god, let Ray pat Emma's head again! He's done it countless time over the years.. can you imagine if upon meeting and learning that she has no memories, Ray is just like "no worries, you're still the same Emma to us," and while he pats her head, she's like wait hold up, major deja vu, I feel like I felt something like that happened before. I'm probably only getting my hopes up real high with that idea (since old dude just patted her head and nothing) but bro.. I would honestly cry if something so simple and nostalgic as a head pat helps Emma remember her family even the tiniest bit.

And yes, I'm worried Norman isn't around. Please don't let me be right again by having him stay behind due to his health issues. Just let him be in another search group somewhere else okay? I'll accept that. It's odd he wouldn't be working alongside Ray but whatever, split your best minds up to create equally powerful teams, that's fine. It only worries me because now we might not get one last full-score trio hug like I originally hoped! I swear having a hug like that as the very last panel of the series would've been perfectly fine with me after everything that just happened. But now.. aahhh, we'll see.

I can't believe the series ends next week. There's still so much I want to see and know. I pray there's a happy ending for everyone. I want Emma with her family. I want her to remember them. I want one last full-score trio hug. Shirai, don't let us down! You played with my feelings so much within the past year, so please make all the stress and tears worth it! Give me an ending that will satisfy me so much that TPN replaces Black Lagoon as my favorite series! Go ahead, I dare you! Ya see that beautiful panel? Give that to us and not have it be a fantasy! (pretty please??)