#I am definitely not answering in order I will get to some older asks later. I think | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oneirataxia-girl · 9 months

Text

⇝ DRABBLE -- The Faeries In The Woods

this is the first piece of writing i've done in MONTHS, @ariparri the cardverse au has me in a chokehold and this is the product of annoyed & tired alvita doing everything she can to get her mind off schoolwork, ended up writing the first draft in one day (???! i am astonished by this too) and uh yeah, it's rough it's not my usual style but hey, my writing skills are basically the equivalent of sandpaper in terms of roughness so it's definitely going to be bad no matter what lol quick author's note before we get started though: for those who've known me since my hphm phase, you might recognize the "faeries in the woods" as the arcane-zheng family who i criminally ignored in favor of building the alvina/talbott ship (yes i am aware that it was a mistake), but while the basic setup of the fae family is still the same, they all have completely different names which i hope i'll be able to introduce to you guys in a later piece; this is more like "setting the vibe" word vomit than anything tbh. but hope you guys enjoy!!

You're a child, barely able to run without stumbling once or twice; you've met the kids on either side of your house and the ones a little further away too, and you've all got the thirst for information your parents say is natural for a Club to have.

The forest has been off limits ever since you remember, but that doesn't stop you from running with your playmates to the clearing barely a one-minute walk in the woods, nor does it prevent the answering frenzy your parents were in to get you back to the village.

"Don't ever go near the place!" Your papa yells at you, "If the fairies --"

Your mama makes a noise you can't understand, and Papa stops talking in favor of trapping you in a big bear hug. You giggle and wrap your own arms around him too, and you forget all about the silver stars staring at you from the edge of the clearing.

You're older now, knobbly knees decorated with scrapes and bruises from your frequent meetings with the stony ground; your friends are older too, and you all start to wonder why the forest is always shrouded in the dark, even when the sun shines high in the noon sky.

Ma cuffs you on the head for asking, but you keep at it, chipping away at her resolve and Pa's in search of an answer.

Eventually, Pa tells you that all will be revealed when you're eleven.

Eleven? You're barely half past the age of eight! It's going to be ages until you learn anything about the forest.

Pa and Ma are always telling you to fight in your chase for knowledge, and this is something to learn, no? So in order to find your explanations, you gather your best friends and pool your wits together to pursue the thing your family and kingdom puts so much importance on: answers.

Your merry troop marches on the pebble-lined path into the forest as soon as your best friend and a boy you don't like come up with a plan.

You come out of the forest drenched in red; some of it yours, most of it from the barely-breathing boy being rushed to the medical building.

You're not a kid anymore now, scrapes long faded into light scars; not all of your friends are older, and you wonder if the one that is gone was taken away by the faeries.

Faeries, not fairies, because you know now that the things lurking in the trees aren't sparkling-winged fairies ready to grant you a wish, but monsters with silver eyes and teeth stained crimson with the blood of their victims. Pa tells you this while Ma rolls up her left sleeve for the first time in your memory to show you the scars she got from the fae family -- probably the mother of the current set of spawn, she tells you.

"How do you know?" You ask her, leaning your head on her lap.

Ma lifts her arm, the raised skin of the healed wound darker than the rest of her skin, "No animal has claws that can do this kind of damage, Darling."

Your forehead wrinkles as you take in this information, and presently you ask whether it could be a weapon.

Pa shakes his head this time.

"If it was a person, they would've been found soon after they went into the forest," He tells you.

"Maybe they're very sneaky," You argue, "Or maybe they always get in and out from the Spades' side of the woods."

But even as you speak the words, you know that they were just that: words.

No human has stayed in the forest for over a day and survived. The longest surviving one was Ma, trapped in a bog for about sixteen hours on a forage for herbs.

Pa pulls aside later to tell you that when they found her, she was muttering about silver-eyed fae and how they gave her a "message to deliver."

She doesn't remember any of that.

You're tying your bootlaces by yourself now, mentally cataloging the plants you're supposed to provide to help make the prototype for a new distress signal; your friends have all grown up as well, some of them left the village for bigger things and some stayed behind with you, none of them are willing to go back to the forest without a weapon by their side anymore.

Can't fault them, you're the same, too.

The only stars you see are the ones in the night sky, fiery balls of gas that live light years away from the small village on this side of the Clubs-Spades border, and you're forcibly reminded of a time when silver stars plague your head.

You shake said head before you stand up to walk towards the academic buildings. The doctors said it'd get better in time, but sometimes you feel like it's only getting worse.

As you kick away stones in your trot, you bump into a girl -- short and thin, with a mane of dark hair that reaches her waist, she turns around and you take note of the dark shades hiding her eyes and the shaky step she takes to get away from you.

A green cape covers most of her top half and you frown when you notice that both the green fabric and the dark tights she wears are ripped. Did she run away from home? Why was she wearing dark glasses?

"Irene!" Comes a call, you turn to see a older guy with the same dark glasses stride towards the girl. His clothes were also worn, and you catch a few sympathetic glances thrown their way by some of your fellow villagers.

Not from the village, that much was clear. Maybe they were running away from Spades, you hear that they're in terrible turmoil and its people are leaving in whatever way possible.

All hearsay though, no evidence has ever come by to confirm this.

The guy throws an arm around the girl and you notice that he has the same twig-like frame, barely a head taller than the girl; he has the same messy hair though, and he barely spares you a glance before dragging his sister away.

You watch their backs retreat, and you notice that their feet don't make a sound on the gravel ground.

You shrug your shoulders and continue on your way, pebbles crunching underfoot as you walk.

Perhaps the refugee rumors are true after all.

You're finally allowed to drink in the open now, grin wide as you accept your first glass of beer from your ma and act as if you aren't used to the bitter taste linger after you swallow; your friends cheer and clap you on your back, even the ones that went to the big cities, for everyone still alive had come back to celebrate your birthday. You clink your glass with a shy smile at one of your best friends and tip your head back to chug the rest of the beer in one go.

Pa gives you a suspicious look. You try coughing to pretend that it didn't go down like water. It doesn't seem to work, but he only brings a finger to his lips and turns away.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

Second, third, and fourth mugs of beer come and go; you toss jokes and barbs at your friends and shrug off their laughing sneers. Conversation flows like your drinks and it eventually follows dirt-strewn trails to the shadowy woods just a few steps from the village borders.

"You remember the faeries our parents used to scare us with?" One of your friend asks, cheeks ruddy from the alcohol.

They've come back from the city just for your birthday, so you bite your lip and stifle the urge to correct their mistake.

Another one of your friends does it for you, this one having lived in the house a five-minute walk from yours for their whole life; it sparks a debate whether there is anything in the forest other than the typical trees that make one lose all sense of direction and odd creatures.

Silver stars blink on the very edge of your vision. You turn around and see nothing but yellow light bathing your party. You turn back and ignore the feeling of something watching you.

Feelings -- such fickle things, you muse, making think there hid things when there are none. No wonder why your kingdom stresses the importance of logic and reasoning.

A fist punches your shoulder, it's your best friend, smile as lopsided as the day you two met, "What do you think? You reckon faeries live there?"

The rest of the chatter dies, eyes waiting for your answer expectantly.

Licking your lips, you hesitate to give an answer. You still recall the silver stars bursting in your head and the wails of your friends, but they seem sharper than they should be, and the stars now just seem like normal migraine-induced sights.

The window allows you to look out at the forest. It's as dark and gloomy as always, not a lick of life shakes its leaves.

Then, your mug crashes onto the floor.

Three -- no, four -- figures emerge from the depths of the woods, three of them with silver stars for eyes; the last one to emerge stands still while the six silver stars blink in unison, the only one to have the faint outline of their silhouette be the only thing separating them from the night.

You hear an exhale close to your ear and you realize that everyone has piled up behind you. It's your ma, she has a hand on your shoulder and you spot the scars running down her arm when your turn your head to look at her.

Her grip on your shoulder tightens and her face goes pale. Whirling your head back to the clear glass, you see six silver eyes pointing directly at you.

A drum starts pounding in your head, so you close your eyes for a fraction of a second to shush it. You open your eyes to meet a sea of black outside your window.

Nothing was left of the four creatures, not even a crunch of a footstep.

A beat.

"What," Someone finally says, "Was that?"

You want to say it was the faeries, but those are anything but fae.

You're woken up by the sound of shouting now, and you leap out of bed when the iron tang of blood assaults your nose.

Bootlaces untied, you run out to carnage: you think someone screams when you see Ma lying on the floor motionless, and you follow the direction of the scars on her arm to see Pa.

Their fingers just barely brush each others'.

Your throat burns a white-hot pain and you crumple to the floor and you crawl to the window to see bodies on the gravel ground. You slide down and close your eyes and beg for this to be just a beer-induced nightmare.

A resounding boom shakes your eardrums and your stomach drops further when you register where the sound came from:

The distress signal. The one you helped to make.

Shouts turn to cries and whimpers and gasps, and then even those are cut off. You glance at Grandma's door and decide you don't want to open it.

Nothing disturbs the gravel path before the front gate squeaks open. You press yourself closer to the wall.

Moonlight bleeds into the room as the front door clicks open, you wonder whether you'll be able to make a run for it.

"Swear I could hear a heartbeat in here."

"Don't these --" You watch as someone seemingly nudges your ma's top half -- "have a kid? You two saw them before, right?"

You think you would remember seeing monsters with silver eyes --

oh.

You did see them before, they just weren't dumb enough to show their eyes.

A cry leaves you as the collar of your jacket yanks you up. Six silver eyes blink at you.

"Sorry," No flash of fangs glitter from the speaker's mouth, "Blame your friend for this."

You struggle and claw at the vice grip on your collar tightening.

You sputter as you suddenly drop to the ground. You think you see white lights and you wonder if you've joined your family as shouts grow near.

Something is shoved in your mouth and you want to wail as the bitter taste of the thing infects your mouth.

A blinding glare shoots through every opening your home has. The three creatures hiss and crouch down to escape the light. They start talking, and you work on getting the foul-tasting thing out of your mouth.

A growl jerks you from your endeavor. You see the smallest of the three standing.

"It's the only way." One of the other two states simply.

The small one scoffs and the light turns her dark hair into a rippling waterfall, "Don't tell me you think we can't take a couple more humans out."

The other speaker turns her head to look at you -- silver stars framed by wide eyes, no flash of teeth when she opens her mouth to say -- "There's only going to be more of them the longer we stay."

"So we should all go!"

"Too dangerous," It's the guy, the one who dragged his younger sister away that time you bumped into her. She's the one they're convincing to do something.

You don't catch the rest of the conversation, your eyes are getting heavier by the second, everything's gone out of focus...

The last thing you hear is a chilling howl, and the last thing you see is Ma offering her scarred arm for you to grab.

#not proofread whole so its probably messy #but i just wanted to get it out #also irene is NOT one of the faerie siblings' names!!#“you” simply heard it wrong lol #pls feel free to clown with me in this for i fear there is no sign of me stopping #and i don't even have a face claim for any of them yet 😭#alvita’s writing

3 notes · View notes

paperconsumption · 1 year

Note

okay so. so this so mild. but the first thing I thought of when i actually started playing this game in like late september/early october. is there is a very similar mindset amongst the many who I had met at the time that they just, didn't need to read the source material.

this can be found in many many fandoms. this isn't a enstars/dc specific thing. DC has a VERY huge barrier to entry and for enstars it way less so.

so you have to find fan translations of the older enstars stories and the way the timeline works it is kind of hard to parse through. where do you start when you weren't there for the whole thing. with enstars there is a (in my mind) objectively good starting point for the whole franchise. ! main story. not like kisaki or the later stuff. like the revolution to ensemble sections. then it's pretty vague. "follow your favs" is the fandom wiki's advice paraphrased and I remember that exact advice when I tried getting into DC. and the confusion when all these pre established characters came in like whhhaat. with Superman there's this image of him. you can get that pretty well if you follow some american pop culture stuff. but if you start to dive into DC with something like, Young Justice (1998) you meet robin and superboy and impulse. and they have all these people they know. and sure you can keep following young justice but you don't really understand what's going on over with say, Robin, who's apparently the 3rd robin? and the second robin. you don't. im off track.

I haven't gone through a decent amount of any of enstars so im incredibly sorry. but The EP:Link and like. the transition to !! it all reminds a bit about Crisis on infinite earths. and post crisis era. except like can i really say that as an exclhsivelt post crisis reader. hmm.

but yeah I'd say the japanese release of !! is the post crisis on infinite earths. and !! to english is having an effect of nu52 to the incoming fanbase (to an extent) but the content is the same... ish. so no where near asbad as nu52. more like rebirth or something. but these thigns are not equivalent.

enstars fans havetrouble finding translations, and after !''s main story it's a lot of "decide for yourself" what reading order if you wanna try and keep track of things happening. DC fans have a hard time finding copies of a decent amount of the older comics, you can't keep track of things no matter what you do. oh and enstars also has a bit of the same problem that dc has about dofferent writers to a tiny extent because Akira doesn't always write the stories, so they sometimes contradict(? don't remember seeing that butI know some say so.)

also enstars english ads are to enstars as Wayne family adventures is to any actual batman stuff.

have a good morning I am so brain dead 👋 thank you for listening ;w; one thousand high fives brigid, one thousand high fives

this is such a cool connection!! when you get really into media like comics and games you start to expect confusing timelines and such but it really isn’t a problem that many other mediums experience you know? they usually always start at chapter 1/episode 1 so attempting to get someone who’s used to that to adapt to enstars or dc would be pretty rough. i’ve already accepted the strangeness of enstars and kinda (?) understand the timeline now but if you asked me anything about how dc works i would not be able to answer. and just because of the nature of how dc comics and enstars stories are created and released, it’s really hard to fix the confusion without a sort of reset—which both of them did—and even then the problem doesn’t go away.

you can’t really think of a definite solution, and neither can anyone on the creative team so it seems, so everyone just gets used to it. it’d be cool to look at other franchises that have similar issues and compare the way each fandom adapts and finds solutions for the other problems you mentioned (finding translations, getting copies of older material that’s out of print, etc). i wonder if there’s consistent methods everyone follows along with, or everyone just does it in their own weird way🤔

#one thousand high fives back!!! this was so cool to read #my knowledge of dc is in the characters and stuff so hearing about the timeline is fascinating #also. the engstar ads being like wayne family adventures 😭😭😭

6 notes · View notes

flameohotwife · 2 years

Note

for the author ask game: 3, 21, and 25!

Thanks for the ask, friend! Sorry it took a minute to get back to you--I was hoping things would slow down a bit and they... haven't, haha.

3. what order do you write in? front of book to back? chronological? favorite scenes first? something else? I always write front-to-back. The exception is that I have written a few drabbles for friends or for prompts that I know I'm going to include in some form in a later part of one series, but when I'm sitting down to write something I always start at the beginning and end at the end.

21. what do you think when you read over your older work? It depends! Many of them still bring me joy in some ways, but there are definitely parts that I'll read and cringe at how it sounds. You would think that means I have improved with my writing but really it just means I am not my own biggest fan, haha.

25. copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud of. Oh ooof northern! Did you read my answer to 21? Okay, lemme go find something...

She rubbed her fingers against her temples, seeking (and failing to find) a way to block out the sounds of screaming, fighting kids and squeaky notes. Inhaling a slow, deep breath, she forced her blood pressure back down on the exhale and prepared to face her children, setting aside her unfinished work for now.

“Kya,” she called, calmly. No response. Kya was too busy loudly bickering with Bumi over how to hang this set of streamers to even hear her mother. “Kya?” she called again, a little louder. Still nothing. “KYA!!!”

“ Why are you YELLING at me?!” Kya whipped around, eyes blazing in an all-too-familiar fashion. Sometimes looking at her daughter was like looking in a mirror.

Katara almost bit back that she hadn’t yelled the first two times, but exhaled another calming breath through her nose instead. She stood to join her oldest two children by the window. “I didn’t think you could hear me over all the noise,” she explained, gesturing to the three of them, as Tenzin continued to blow away at his flute with eyes closed tight in concentration. Bumi reached for the back of his neck sheepishly and Katara smiled warmly at how much her oldest child reminded her of Aang.

That's from Ties That Bind, my Katara Week fic. I'm proud of it not necessarily because of the prose or the wording, but because of how real it feels to me, being in the midst of kid chaos, still finding the little quirks of your children that they inherited from your partner (or you! haha) and feeling simultaneously overwhelmed and capable of handling it. Thanks for playing the Get To Know Your Author ask game, friend!!

#gtky ask game #northerngoshawk #asks

3 notes · View notes

roscgcld · 3 years

Text

NANAMI KENTO || joys of a father

note: enjoy all of my indulgent writing as I ignore the requests in my inbox because i am✨ irresponsible~ ✨ but on a more serious note - i’ve been answering so many dad!nanami asks that I just....I am in love once more and I want to cry T^T GIVE ME NANAMI KENTO AS A HUSBAND! THAT IS ALL I AM ASKING FOR DAMMIT. Also - we ignoring the entire

pronouns: them/they

The sound of tiny feet padding against the polished floors of the Nanami residence was the first thing that greets the neutral painted walls, quiet pants echoing down its peacefully hallway as the little girl made her way towards the familiar door at the end of it. Clutched in one hand was a adorable white stuffed cat, complete with a smug smile and round sunglasses that would hide its sapphire blue eyes from the world. A gift from her favourite uncle that she carries around the house.

The sunlight reflected off the soft blonde hair that bounced along with the joyful child as she made her way to her parents’ room, secretly enjoying how she is breaking the ‘no running’ rule that her father had set for her. But what he doesn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right?

Once she reached the door she took a deep breath before she got onto the tip of her toes, whining and making a few noises as she tries to reach for the long door handle that was just a little bit out of her reach. Yet she was determined, and after a few more hops she manages to wrap her chubby little fingers around the handle and pulled down, opening the door to the master bedroom loudly.

An excited giggle left her tiny chest as she ran over to the king sized bed in the middle of the room, climbing up the bench that was before the tall bed in order to get onto it in the first place. Without missing a beat she stumbled over scattered limbs and twisted sheets to reach her father’s side; only to be met by a pair of sleepy brown eyes having watched her the moment she had flung the door open. “Just what do you think you’re doing there, missy?”

Nanami smiles sleepily at the excited grin that his daughter gifted him this morning, happily holding her arms out as Nanami sat up sleepily with a yawn; stretching and ruffling his own blonde hair with one hand. Once he was done he picked the little girl up and sat her down in his lap, pressing a soft kiss against the side of her head with a smile. “Morning, bunny. You slept well? No more monster in your room?”

“I slept well, papa! And there was no more monsters in my room!,” The little girl, Nanami Meiko, said with a warm smile on her face, happily cuddling into her father’s strong chest whilst the older man just chuckles and wraps his arms around Meiji protectively. Unfortunately, with both her parents being sorcerers, it was no surprise that she was born with the ability to see Curses. And with her sixth birthday just around the corner, Nanami wasn’t really sure if he wants to know if she had ended up inheriting one of her parents’ Techniques. Even not that excited to find out if she wants to become a sorcerer like her parents do.

But what he does know is that whatever his little girl chooses, he will definitely be her biggest cheerleader.

“That’s good,” Nanami said with a tired yawn, pressing another kiss to her head head as Meiji cuddles into his warm chest. This morning, you had unfortunately been sent out on a mission that lasted overnight; and even then Nanami was sure you’d return home a lot later into the evening. Nanami will be surprised if it wasn’t extended and you actually return home at the set time. But he can’t blame you - it’s apart of the job. He just hopes he can distract Meiko enough so she does not feel the sadness of not having her mother around on a weekend.

“Let’s go and make some waffles, how does that sound, bunny?,” Nanami asks after cuddling with his daughter in bed for about 10 minutes, a strong and warm hand reaching up to brush away her blonde hair form her little face as Meiko blinks her e/c eyes up at him curiously. “I made some strawberry jam last night. So it will go amazing with some waffles, don’t you think?”

Just the mention of the jam had the little girl perking up in delight, and just seeing her eyes brightening in delight had Nanami’s heart melting as he presses another kiss to the top of her head. “Let’s go and brush our teeth first, how does that sound?,” Nanami hummed with a smile, picking Meiko up in his arms as she cheered and nodded her head in delight.

It didn’t take long for Nanami and Meiko to brush their teeth before he made his way downstairs, listening to her intently as she describes the dream that she had last night about marshmallow mountains and the Easter Bunny happily leading her down a path of gum drops and lollipops. Hearing this had Nanami worried, as he was genuinely concerned that her favourite ‘uncle’, Gojo Satoru, is conditioning his little girl to have a sweet tooth as big as his. And that in itself is a feat.

“Go and wash your hands first while papa grabs the ingredients, alright?,” Nanami hums as he sets Meiko on her little feet, smiling at how she nods before she skips to the kitchen, pushing the stepping stool towards the sink so she can wash her hands. Nanami went about collecting the things they needed for breakfast, and after helping Meiko move the stepping stool towards the kitchen countertops and washing his own hands, they started out on a simple breakfast for two.

It was an odd morning for him to be only brewing a cup of coffee for one instead of two. You, the mother of his child and his wife for about 7 years now, had been tasked to go out on a two day mission with your senpai, Gojo Satoru. Neither of you had retired from the jujutsu world just yet, having wanted to work a few more years in order to save up for another child. Hence why you and your husband have to take turns when comes to overnight missions; and since he had gone to Kobe for a 3 day mission last month, it was your turn to do the same.

“When is mama going to be coming home, papa?,” Meiko asks, snapping him out of his daze as he glances away from the waffle iron to look at her instead. A soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips as bright e/c eyes blinked up at him curiously. “She should be home by tomorrow afternoon, bunny,” Nanami hums before he flips the cast iron waffle maker carefully, glancing at the clock hanging off a wall in the kitchen to start a mental countdown. “I am sure if she can, she will try to come home earlier.”

Meiko pouts at the idea of you not returning earlier than expected, but she understands that there are some things that are just outside of your control. Even at such a young age, your daughter has picked up her father’s understanding personality and is one of the most understanding children you’ve ever met. Nanami takes quite a lot of pride that people think that Meiko was understanding and even mature for her age, but Nanami has never really pressured your daughter to grow up faster than she needs to. He understands that as a little girl, she should enjoy the smaller things in life and always ensure that she gets to be the kid that he didn’t get to experience as a child who grew up being able to see Curses.

It didn’t take long for Nanami to whip up the rest of the waffles, and soon the kitchen was filled with delicious smell of morning waffles. Nanami lets Meiko dictate how many strawberries to cut, cutting them up not perfect bite-sized pieces as she happily decorates the waffles with the strawberries. Nanami even lets het get away with applying some powdered sugar on the waffles, but he did made sure that the powdered sugar wasn’t pooling up into little mountains on the face of the waffle. He refuses to feed into the habit of insane amounts of sugar that Gojo indulges her in. And Nanami will not break on his stance no matter how cute Meiko’s puppy eyes are.

“What do you have in mind today, bunny?,” Nanami asks half way through his waffles, looking over at Meiko who was happily chewing on some fresh strawberries that Nanami had cut up as a garnish. Seeing his daughter enjoying his cooking had Nanami’s heart melting as he reaches over for a tissue, carefully wiping some strawberry jam at the corner of Meiko’s mouth. The little girl paused when she felt the tissue wiping at her mouth, yet she just turned her face to her father to give him a better angle as she gave him a thoughtful look.

“Can we go out to the zoo, papa? I wanna go and see the owls!,” Meiko commented with an excited look on her face, to which Nanami just raise an eyebrow before he smiles over at her fondly. If he was being honest, he cannot remember the last time he had been to the zoo himself; maybe when he was still in pre-school? He was sure one that one of the many end-of-year school trips had brought him to the zoo once. “Sure bunny. We can pack some snacks and even have a nice little day out together, how does that sound?”

All he got in response was an excited squeal, one that had him letting out a soft chuckle of his own as he takes another bite form his waffles. Soon the dishes were loaded into the dish washer, Nanami lead Meiko up to go and take a bath to get ready for the day. Nanami helped Meiko take a quick shower before dressing her in a cute baby blue dress with daisies printed all over it. He pulled her hair back into a braid, letting her choose from all the cute hair clips to clip her bangs back before he went to take a quick shower and changes as well.

It didn’t take much convincing from Meiko’s end for him to put on a matching baby blue shirt, and after a brief stop in the kitchen to pack some snacks and sandwiches for a nice lunch at the beach, the two of them got into Nanami’s car before he drove them towards the zoo. Once they’ve arrived at the parking lot of the zoo and found a nice parking spot, Nanami carefully picks Meiko up in his arms before he made his way towards the main entrance of the zoo.

Since it was the weekend, there were many kids, families, and young couples alike. Usually Nanami wouldn’t come on a weekend, since it can get super crowded; he doesn’t like to be pressed against random strangers if he had to. But just seeing how excited Meiko was when he wrapped the brightly coloured band on her wrist - well...Nanami can handle a few hours of being squished between sweaty people.

“Papa! Look, the owl feeding time is right now!,” Meiko said with an excited giggle as she dragged her father towards the path, only briefly stopping when Nanami told her that he needed to grab a map for them to look at whilst they walked around. Following the path, he tightened his grip on Meiko’s hand as he realises that the crowd of people were getting thicker the closer they get to the bird exhibit. Nanami did remind Meiko to stay close, to which the little girl pouts a little at the idea. But she did, and after a little bit of shoving past the other parents and random adults, Nanami found himself staring at his phone screen as he focuses the camera on a smiling Meiko’s face; catching the bright eyes and wide smiles that she tosses at him whilst she watch the zoo attendance feed the owls for the day.

The day passed like that, with Nanami taking many pictures to send to you of Meiko; who seemed to be in her element as she went from one animal exhibit to another. Since they went pretty early in the morning, they were early enough to catch many of the morning feeding shows. So Nanami found himself standing at the back of exhibit with the other parents, not really caring that he can feel the many eyes of people around him staring at him. He’s used to being stared at, being someone who looks so different from your every day Japanese person; but he made sure to angle his left hand in a way where his wedding band was reflecting off the lights above them.

For the most part it was a nice day out for Nanami; where he listens to her go on and on about random animal facts she has learnt from school or from watching YouTube videos. In between those rants Nanami managed to find them a nice bench to sit and eat their sandwiches on; grabbing some juice for them to drink on the side. It was during this lunch break that you, having managed to find some time in between your day, facetimed him. For the most part is just Nanami giving his daughter a warm smile as she excitedly told you about all the animals she saw, his heart melting even more when you enthusiastically replied back. Even with your clearly tired eyes and somewhat forced smiles, Nanami can tell you were genuinely happy to see your daughter and him, and that in itself managed to warm Nanami up from the inside out.

As long as you two are happy, he doesn’t have much to complain about.

“Bunny, stop eating the chocolate pieces. We are going to run out before we even start adding them to the mixture.”

It was the next day, and knowing that you were going to be returning soon had gotten Meiko very excited. She had suggested to Nanami over breakfast that she wanted to bake some cookies for your homecoming, and had personally asked if Nanami can recreate her grandmother’s ‘famous’ chocolate chip cookies. Nanami agreed, and after digging through for his well-worn leather notebook filled with family recipes, Nanami and Meiko donned on matching aprons with cats printed all over as he prepares all the ingredients they needed.

Innocent e/c eyes blinked over at him as he narrowed his brown eyes over at his daughter, who just giggles as she pops another chocolate chip into her mouth. Nanami couldn’t even find it in himself to get mad as he shakes his head in amusement. Instead he just leans over to kiss her on the head, making sure not to move the fabric headband she had asked for help with earlier. “Wanna help with cracking the eggs?”

Meiko immediately perked up and nodded, to which Nanami just chuckles as he carefully reattach the mixing bowl after pouring in the sugars and butter to mix together. Once he was done with that he stood behind Meiko and gently guided her on how to crack the eggs into the glass bowl that was holding them before, praising her once she managed to crack one of the eggs into the bowl. Sure, there were a few shells, and she did get some egg on her hands, but Nanami just fished the shells out and helped Meiko wash her hands before he was returning to the task at hand.

“Woah!,” Meiko gasps as Nanami cracks the other egg with one hand, the blonde man smiling over at her as he measures out the vanilla before he added it into the eggs and beat them with a whisk. “How did you do that, papa?!,” The little girl gasps as she pushes herself up onto the counter with her hands, standing on the tip of her toes to watch with wide eyes at how easy Nanami made whisking look in his capable hands. “Your grandma taught me how. When you’re older, we can try. But for now, we can learn how to do it with two hands.”

Meiko pouts a little a the idea that she has to wait to learn how to crack an egg with one hand, but that pout soon dropped as Nanami poured the egg mixture into the dry ingredients, starting up the mixer and adjusting the speed of the mixer itself. For the most part the baking went pretty well, besides a few slip ups when it came to adding flower, the cookies soon fond themselves in the oven as Nanami set a timer on his phone. “I am honestly surprised that there was less mess ups then expected.”

Nanami turned to look away from his phone after the time started, smiling a little at the sight of Meiko’s chubby cheeks covered in flour. She had accidentally pushed the dial for the mixer to max, causing both her and Nanami to get a face full of flour the moment the mixer came to life. Nanami had ended up eyeballing the mixture, and he was hoping that Meiko does not mention this to his mother the next time they visit for Christmas.

He was sure that she will literally murder him for eyeballing a recipe; that was her biggest ‘no-no’ when it comes to cooking.

“Sorry, papa,” Meiko said with a soft giggle, to which Nanami just smiles before he walks towards her once more, chuckling at how Meiko naturally reached her arms up to be picked up by her father. She may be starting preschool soon, but Nanami will always see her as the stumbling and babbling 2 year old that used to cling onto his suit pants in the mornings when he needs to go to work. Eyes welled up with fat tears that were threatening to fall from her e/c eyes. Some may call it a bad habit that Nanami should teach her to get over, but Nanami likes to think that this is a unique way for them to bond together.

“No need to apologise, bunny. We can clean up before the cookies are done,” Nanami hums and bounces her in his arms, smiling at how she just giggles and wraps her arms around his neck in response. Quietly Nanami’s slipper clad feet padding through the wooden floors, making his way to the bathroom where he sets Meiko down on the marble countertops so he can grab a wash towel.

Carefully he wipes her face clean from flour after wetting the soft fabric, feeling his heart melt at just seeing Meiko smiling up at him. When he first thought about starting a family of his own, he knew that being a father would be something that he will forever be grateful for. Maybe he was being cheesy, but besides the day he made you his wife, welcoming Meiko into this world was definitely one of the most proudest and happiest days of his life.

“Let’s hope mama comes home early enough she can enjoy the cookies we made,” Nanami hums with a smile as he finishes cleaning Meiko up, washing the cloth clean before he wiped his face clean as well. Meiko, who still felt bad about the entire thing, offered to clean Nanami’s face for him. He just smiles over at her fondly, leaning down so Meiko can wipe his face clean of flour.

By the time you entered through the front door of your shared home, grumbling about how annoying the elders were; it was definitely a lot later into the evening. But when you heard an excited gasps, followed by tiny footsteps running towards you, everything changed. The tiredness from the entire day melted off your person as you spotted Meiko’s wide smile making its way towards you; tiny arms opened up to throw herself into your open embrace to give you a tight hug.

Followed a few steps behind the giggling girl was Nanami, who smiles and helps you with your bags as you showered Meiko in love and affection. He went to prepare some dinner for you as you went to shower and get ready to enjoy the night with your little family, more than ready to forget of all the responsibilities that comes with being an adult. As Nanami brought your dinner over, along with three glasses of milk to enjoy with the cookies that he was heating up a little in the oven, he can’t help but feel his heart skipping a beat.

The sight of his girls curled up against one another as you told an excited Meiko about everything you could of your mission was something Nanami will never get bored of. To him, this was bliss - quietly massaging your shoulders as you dug into the simple bibimbap that he had whipped up for you as you sighed and relaxed into his chest. Meiko tucked into yours, happily nibbling on one of the now warm cookies as she talks about everything that her and her father had gotten up to whilst you were away.

With how late the evening had become, it came to no one’s surprise when little Meiko soon fell asleep, to which Nanami quietly picks her up to bring her to her room. Feeling Meiko’s soft hair tickling his neck with every step he takes has his heart melting even more as he presses a delicate kiss to the top of her head. He knows these things, although small, are the many joys of a father.

Although Meiko might grow to one day not enjoy the constant doting of her father, he will enjoy the moment right now. Because as long as Meiko is his daughter, he will always watch over her to make sure that she can live as the happy and careful life.

And that will be his final promise to her ‘till the end of time.

703 notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

For a prompt, what if Wen Xu arrives to burn down the Cloud Recesses while everyone is studying there

Home Alone - ao3

“All right,” Wei Wuxian said, when Lan Qiren announced that the Cloud Recesses would be imminently under attack by Wen Xu and the Wen sect armies, the calm in his monotone voice belied by the wrinkle of concern in his forehead. “We’re going to make that bastard wish he’d never been born, right?”

He was speaking lightly, as he always did, trying to make those around him feel more comfortable, braver, less afraid – his was the language of confidence and arrogance, of never backing down, and he didn’t know how else to speak.

He didn’t mean anything in particular by it, or at least not more than he usually did.

He wasn’t expecting Lan Qiren to look at him and say, “If you have any ideas, now is the time to contribute them.”

“So what exactly do you do again?” Wei Wuxian asked, following the older Lan sect disciple around – at least, the man was dressed like a Lan sect disciple, and with a forehead ribbon suggesting that he shared blood with the main clan, too, but Wei Wuxian wasn’t so sure he really was one.

“I blow stuff up, usually,” Lan Yueheng said cheerfully.

That was why Wei Wuxian had doubts.

The man was practically skipping. There was no way he was a Lan.

“Shishu is an alchemist,” Lan Wangji said. His hands were folded behind his back, as always, and he looked tense as might be expected, what with an imminent attack on his home by a colossal army intent on ravaging and destroying everything in its path – but the way he looked at Lan Yueheng was unaccountably fond, as if he were someone he was close to. Wei Wuxian hadn’t known there was anyone other than Lan Qiren or Lan Xichen that Lan Wangji was close to. He was oddly jealous. “Not always successfully.”

“Hey, at blowing things up, I am the most successful!” Lan Yueheng grinned. A moment later, though, the grin faded, and he looked anxious. “Wangji, are you sure you won’t go with your brother?”

“Brother will protect the sect books,” Lan Wangji said solemnly. “I will stay here to defend the sect and the guest disciples.”

Wei Wuxian appreciated that, being one of said guest disciples.

Anyway, it made sense. Lan Qiren had seriously considered trying to send them away with Lan Xichen, saying that their lives were more important than some extra books – other Lan elders hadn’t necessarily agreed, judging by their expressions – but regretfully concluded that adding more people to Lan Xichen’s escape route would do nothing but reveal its existence, dooming all of them.

So they’d split up: Lan Xichen, heading out virtually alone with the most precious Lan sect books, and all the rest of them here to try to resist as much as they could – even Lan Wangji.

Lan Yueheng didn’t try to argue with Lan Wangji, only sighed, sounding as though he’d expected nothing less from him and had only felt the need to make a token protest before accepting it as inevitable. It seemed he really was close to Lan Wangji.

Yeah, Wei Wuxian was definitely jealous.

“All right, then,” Lan Yueheng said, shaking his head and resuming his cheer. “Blowing things up in self-defense plan it is! You’re both talented in music, right?”

“What does music have to do with explosions?” Wei Wuxian asked.

The answer, apparently, was a lot – at least when you were an experimental alchemist in a musically inclined sect and you’d developed a way to trigger explosions via certain combinations of musical notes.

“So, did you know that Teacher Lan was scary?” Wei Wuxian asked Jiang Cheng, who’d finally returned from helping get all the elderly and children and civilians to evacuate – and refusing to join them, of course, even though he was entitled to go in order to preserve his life, being the heir of a sect and all that, completely typical Jiang Cheng – and was now pacing around, eager for a fight.

“Just because he punished you a few times doesn’t make him scary,” Jiang Cheng said.

“No, it doesn’t,” Wei Wuxian agreed. “You know what does make him scary? Playing music that makes his opponents try to cut their own necks.”

“…what?”

“Apparently he gets really upset when you mess with his students,” Wei Wuxian said wisely.

Unlike Jiang Cheng, he’d had time to adjust to the concept of Lan Qiren being terrifying: they were on the fifth wave of scouts, and this set wasn’t doing any better than the first four, not even when they’d realized it would be better if they stopped their ears with wax before approaching.

That’d only made Lan Qiren shift tactics – and songs.

Some of which had an even wider area of impact.

“Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng said, looking at him suspiciously. “What did you do?”

“I convinced Teacher Lan that guerrilla warfare that destroyed as much of the enemy as possible would be more effective than just trying to defend the sect’s territory, since that was clearly a lost cause,” Wei Wuxian said promptly. “He agreed, but said that he could only do so much since he wasn’t a very good sword fighter. And then I asked him if he knew anything else that could be used as an attack and he said ‘no’ and then he said ‘well, I suppose’ and then he listed off a few things that – according to him – aren’t meant to be used in warfare but, and this is a direct quote, ‘could be put to a destructive use if one so wished it’.”

“And we now ‘so wish it’?”

“Yup. Oh, and watch out for anything that has a Lan sect cloud with a three-looped circle carved into the side of it, and I do mean anything– those explode.”

“Of course they do.”

“Hey! For once it has nothing to do with me!”

“I thought you said he said he was bad at swordfighting,” Jiang Cheng said suspiciously.

Wei Wuxian held out his hands helplessly in a ‘don’t look at me’ gesture, trying to defend himself from a sharp and pointy elbow to the side while also not pulling his eyes away from the ongoing battlefield for even a single moment.

“Shufu considers himself to be of average skill at the sword,” Lan Wangji said in the peaceable tone of someone who had been taught the basics of swordfighting by the person in question. The basics of really awesome swordfighting. “His real strength is in music, as you’ve seen.”

“I get that, really, I do, his music is terrifying,” Wei Wuxian said, and meant it completely. Between the two, he’d rather go up against Lan Qiren with a sword, where he’d at least be able to make a decent showing of himself before getting chopped to bits by the man’s fluid and almost seemingly delicate style that was nevertheless highly effective at skewering Wen sect disciples left and right; it would be better than with music, where he might as well just cut his own throat or strangle himself with guqin strings now to save Lan Qiren’s fingers the trouble. “But Jiang Cheng’s still right, okay – why in the world does he consider that to be ‘average’? Who is he comparing himself to?”

Lan Wangji considered the question for a long moment, then finally said: “A statistical outlier.”

“I wish we had aerial attacks we could use against the Wen sect’s swords,” Wei Wuxian said wistfully, and next to him Jiang Cheng nodded with a sight of longing – it was so frustrating seeing more and more Wen sect soldiers arriving in groups, like flocks of birds that started to fill the skies because they couldn’t be so easily shot down. “But if we try anything, they’ll just shield against us.”

“Teacher Lan said we can’t use spiritual energy against them, since we’d lose,” Jiang Cheng said, and as much as they all regretted it, Lan Qiren was probably right: they might be better trained than the Wen sect soldiers, might be better cultivators and stronger in spiritual energy individually, but they were young and immature, and at a serious numerical disadvantage.

It would be far too easy for the flying cultivators to stop their flying just long enough to set up a defensive array, block whatever spiritual attack they sent out, and then keep going to find and stab them before they’d even recovered from the energy expenditure.

“I didn’t mean spiritual energy,” Wei Wuxian grumbled. “I just meant, you know, like the explosives we’ve laid in all over the ground – something like that. If we could attach those to something…”

“I don’t think we have anything that flies anyway,” Lan Yueheng said regretfully.

“You have lanterns, don’t you?” Nie Huaisang said, and everyone turned to look at him. “Fill them with something that explodes when disturbed and send them floating into the air. Better yet, write ‘peace’ on the side of them to make it look like you’re making some sort of meaningful gesture designed to shame them. The Wen sect won’t be able to resist kicking them aside as an insult, and that’ll trigger them.”

They all stared at him.

He shrugged.

“We have a lot of defenses set up against invasion, at home,” he said. “And not always the budget to pay for anything fancy, so we’ve come up with some slightly more unorthodox ideas, too.”

“It’s a really good idea,” Wei Wuxian said, suddenly focused on the hitherto ignored Nie Huaisang. Clearly he’d made a tactical error, thinking of himself as the only person who knew how to get up to tricks. “Do you have any other ideas like that?”

Nie Huaisang smiled.

“Teacher Lan, I have an idea,” Wei Wuxian said, inserting himself briefly into the clearing near the Lan sect gate where Lan Qiren was sitting to rest in preparation for the Wen sect’s next attack. “But you’re going to hate it.”

“You may proceed,” Lan Qiren said, not looking up.

“Wait,” Wei Wuxian said, blinking. “Really? You’re not even going to ask what it is? Or why you’d hate it so much?”

“There is no time for that,” Lan Qiren said, and finally spared him a glance. He looked tired. “Things will get worse very soon.”

“But we’re winning!”

“No,” Lan Qiren said, shaking out his fingers – even despite occasionally alternating to using the sword when necessary, he’d played his guqin to the point of drawing blood and breaking nails, and was continuing despite everyone pleading with him to stop and swap out for someone else for a while. He’d said that there was no one else on his level, and he was probably right, but still, surely, just for a little… “We are surviving. Do not mistake the two.”

“Okay, so,” Wei Wuxian said, rubbing his hands together. “Resentful energy –”

“No,” Lan Wangji said.

“Thanks,” Wei Wuxian said to Jin Zixuan, who’d probably just saved his life by stabbing a Wen sect cultivator in the back right before the man had been able to stop Wei Wuxian from activating another series of explosions. “I guess I owe you one?”

“Don’t mention it,” Jin Zixuan said. “How else can I help?”

“I don’t know,” Wei Wuxian said, scratching his head and thinking about Nie Huaisang as precedent. There wasn’t time for schoolyard rivalries right now. “Do you have anything really unexpected that could be used to hurt people? Be creative – they’re guarded against all the usual defenses, so the weirder the better, anything goes. I won’t judge.”

Jin Zixuan thought about it. “I’m pretty sure I have a drug that puts people to sleep?”

“…why do you have something like that?”

Jin Zixuna grimaced. “My father gave it to me along with another one that he said not to use in excess, though I don’t actually know what that one does because that was about when my mom ran in and started throwing things at him. I can’t throw it away because it was a gift from my father, but I put it as deep into my bags as I could so that I’d never have to see or touch it. Ever.”

Wei Wuxian’s nose wrinkled. He’d never before felt pity for Jin Zixuan, but having to put up with Jin Guangshan on a regular basis was pretty bad – much less owing him filial piety.

No wonder Jin Zixuan was so twitchy all the time.

“Okay, so one sleep drug and one…uh…”

“Enhancement. Presumably. Can we throw it at the other side? Maybe turn it into incense and make smoke-bombs or something?”

“You know what,” Wei Wuxian said. “Why not? If nothing else, it’d be distracting, right?”

“This doesn’t feel honorable,” Jiang Cheng said, watching the fun. They’d raided the Lan sect’s medicine cabinets and kitchens for other noxious and irritating substances that might make for good smoke-bombs – Jiang Cheng himself had even located a whole patch of something not unlike poison ivy that had been quickly repurposed for the cause. “Strictly speaking.”

“Honor’s overrated,” Wei Wuxian said. “Making the Wen bastards pay for attacking Lan Zhan’s home is what’s important.”

Lan Wangji didn’t smile, exactly, but Wei Wuxian took his expression as a win regardless.

It turned out that music could also make plants grow really fast.

According to Lan Qiren, the spell ruined the plants’ nutritional value and made them basically useless.

Well.

Useless if your goal was eating them, anyway.

(First they could grow under their enemies’ feet and attack them, roots and vines twining around them to strangle them, and then they could be used up in the smoke-bombs – two for the price of one!)

“Are you sure about not doing the whole resentful energy thing?”

“Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng said. “No.”

“Hey, Wei-xiong, do you have or can you create any more papermen?” Jin Zixuan asked.

“Yes, sure, plenty,” Wei Wuxian said. He’d like to say that he’d known he’d one day need such a skill, and that that was why he’d learned the trick so thoroughly, but that was a complete lie. “Why?”

“Nie-xiong, Jiang-xiong and I are going to use them to make a shadow-play to lure a bunch of Wen sect cultivators into another plant-and-explosives trap.”

“…that’s amazing, Jin-xiong,” Wei Wuxian said, marveling. “How do you even think of that?”

“Even I get into trouble sometimes,” Jin Zixuan said, and was startled into an unexpected smile when Jiang Cheng punched his shoulder approvingly.

Wei Wuxian was actually having a pretty good time with it all right up until the main force of the Wen sect decided to ignore all their traps and charge straight towards the classroom they’d fallen back to using as a headquarters, and then suddenly he wasn’t having a good time at all.

“Run,” Lan Qiren said, and put down his guqin, drawing his sword once more.

“But we can fight!” Jiang Cheng argued.

“Run.”

“Shufu –”

“Run.”

They ran.

“If you don’t come out, I’m going to make him pay,” Wen Xu called.

His fingers were knotted in Lan Qiren’s hair, pulling their teacher’s head back to show how his face was covered in blood, how it was seeping out through his mouth and nose, how one of his eyes was badly bruised and swollen from having been beaten down by sheer force of numbers.

Lan Qiren had made them pay dearly for their efforts to bring him down –

But there were just so many of them.

“How dare he,” Jiang Cheng hissed. “He was once one of Teacher Lan’s students, too!”

Wei Wuxian was holding Lan Wangji back, but only barely; his fingers were starting to go numb from the sheer effort of it. If Jin Zixuan and Jiang Cheng weren’t there to help him hold him down, Lan Wangji would have already given away their position, rushing out to make some futile gesture in his overwhelming rage. Wei Wuxian was focusing with all his being on how much he had to stop Lan Wangji from doing something like that, because if he wasn’t, if he let himself think about anything else for even a single moment, he’d have also run out there, sword drawn, without so much as a care – he hadn’t realized he’d be so angry over it, so furious, so betrayed and horrified by Wen Xu’s cruelty.

Prior to today, he wouldn’t have said he even liked Lan Qiren!

“My students are not so foolish as to fall for so obvious a scheme as that,” Lan Qiren said, his tone as monotonous as it ever was during his lectures – for the briefest moment, Wei Wuxian felt that he was dreaming, that he had merely dreamt everything that had happened: surely it was still yesterday, with Lan Qiren standing tall, safe and healthy, at the front of the classroom, lecturing about one of the Lan sect rules…which one had it been? Shoulder the weight of morality? Have a strong will and anything can be achieved? Be mighty, and others will die for you?

Do not break faith?

Somehow, despite everything that had happened, Lan Qiren’s eyes curved ever so slightly.

“Present company excluded, of course.”

Wen Xu threw him down to the ground, mouth twisting and teeth gnashing with offended anger.

“Beat him,” he ordered his men. “Make it hurt. I want him screaming – let’s see how his precious students like that. Or maybe it’s just that they don’t care?”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said, eyes red with unshed tears and barely swallowed rage. “Tell me your idea about resentful energy.”

“Perhaps,” Lan Qiren said, then paused briefly to cough up some blood. His voice, when he resumed speaking, was hoarse. “Perhaps I should have reviewed your idea more closely when you first proposed it.”

“Possibly,” Wei Wuxian said, offering up some cloth to help wipe away the blood. Lan Wangji was busy bandaging his uncle’s injuries up, while Jiang Cheng, Jin Zixuan, and Nie Huaisang hovered by the door, only barely pretending to be keeping a lookout the way they were supposed to. “In my defense, I didn’t quite expect…that.”

Everyone politely did not ask him to elaborate.

The effects had been…well, it turned out using resentful energy the way Wei Wuxian had thought was possible, to say the least, and also that they’d taken down an awful lot of Wen sect soldiers in their defensive efforts.

“You will all have been affected by the resentful energy you used to summon the corpses,” Lan Qiren said. “Although the method you devised appears to avoid the most immediate consequences, which – let me remind you – include qi deviation and death in some instances, there is always the possibility that it has left traces of resentful energy within your meridians. If it is allowed to build up, it will escalate into a backlash that would rip your body and soul to pieces. There are spells and songs that can help clear your spirits and ease the effects.”

“Nie Huaisang has been playing some of them for us, since he can’t fight,” Lan Wangji said. “Nie sect ones – they’re…uh, not especially calming, more of a cleanse-by-force thing, but they seem to be working.”

Jiang Cheng nodded. “We’ll listen to any others that you’d like, Teacher Lan,” he said, anxious, and the rest of them nodded. “Just say which ones. If there’s any array or anything – or if you want us to write an essay about why using resentful energy is dangerous and wrong –”

Even Wei Wuxian nodded at that – even Nie Huaisang nodded, and he hated essays more than anything.

Lan Qiren huffed lightly. “Now you’re all so obedient.”

They all bowed their heads.

“…you did a good job,” Lan Qiren finally said, and they all looked up to stare at him. “You rescued me and repelled the Wen sect, however temporarily. Even though you used demonic cultivation, which is forbidden, you did not purposefully disturb graves, and you can make recompense to the spirits later. It was well done, and I thank you for it.”

He noticed that they were gaping and frowned at them.

“What have I taught you?” he scolded, and he sounded enough like he normally did that Wei Wuxian had the sudden urge to burst into totally inexplicable tears. “The preservation of human life is the priority, always. Why is this a surprise?”

“Shufu is right,” Lan Wangji said, and there was something of peace and calm in his eyes, the foundation of his world steady and unfaltering – he was almost glowing with it, satisfied and happy, and he was so utterly beautiful in Wei Wuxian’s eyes that it was almost blinding. “We acknowledge Teacher’s words.”

“We acknowledge Teacher’s words,” everyone else quickly agreed.

Lan Qiren shook his head, nodding in appreciation. “What is your next step now?” he asked. “The Wen sect was only repulsed, not defeated. They will not be gone long – they are already regrouping outside our gate, and this time they will be prepared for the effects of your demonic cultivation. In the end, they still have the advantage of numbers.”

“I don’t think we got as far as that in our plan,” Wei Wuxian said, rubbing the back of his head.

His thinking had mostly stopped at get Teacher Lan back and make them pay. He was pretty sure the same was true for Lan Wangji, and probably all the rest of the, too.

“Maybe you didn’t,” Nie Huaisang said with a sniff, and damnit, Wei Wuxian really needed to stop underestimating him just because he was a bad cultivator and a bit empty-headed. “I, on the other hand, sent a message back to my da-ge way back when this first started, and he should be here very soon with an army of his own.”

There were those in the Jiang sect that liked to mock the Nie sect as being unduly paranoid, always preparing for war and speaking grimly of its inevitability, always training their disciples and soldiers as if each one of them would need to fight five or ten of the enemy at once.

If Wei Wuxian ever met any of those people ever again, he was going to punch them in the face.

“Just be sure to get your sect ready when you get back,” Nie Mingjue advised them all grimly when it was all done and Wen Xu’s head was stuck on a pike at the entrance to the Cloud Recesses as a warning. The Nie sect’s forces were smaller than the Wen sect’s invasion force, but their people were better trained; even after flying all the way from Qinghe, they’d come down on the remaining invasion force like a hammer. “This isn’t over, not by a long shot.”

“We understand. There is still war to come.”

“Not just war, but uneven and unbalanced war, and not in our favor,” Nie Mingjue said heavily. “Understand that even with this loss, the forces of all the cultivation world put together can’t match up to the armies under Wen Ruohan’s command.”

“Actually,” Lan Qiren said, and gave all of his students a pointed look, probably on account of the fact that they all still owed him the essay they'd promised to write, “I think you’ll find that there’s something more that we can add…”

#mdzs #wei wuxian #lan qiren #lan wangji #jiang cheng #nie huaisang #jin zixuan #my fic #my fics #home alone

537 notes · View notes

landinoandco · 3 years

Text

A Game of Chess

Carlos Sainz x reader

Request from @leesuhnakamoto-krys "Carlos Sainz x reader fluff"

Warnings: fluff, a slight reference if you squint.

Word count: 2.2 k

Requests are open :)

This year - due to the current pandemic - there were to be two races in Austria, however to keep with the theme of ‘no two races the same’ they were to be called different things: the Styrian grand prix for the first race and the Austrian Grand Prix for the second. This weekend saw the first of the two and your boyfriend Carlos Sainz finished a respectable 6th place behind his former teammate and current best friend Lando Norris.

The majority of the grid had decided to stay in the surrounding area, making the most of the time they had - not only to keep on training but to explore.

Travelling the world with Carlos was a dream come true and you were so lucky to be able to do your job on the move - you were a travel blogger/vlogger and were pretty well known for it as well. A large following of people that enjoyed watching your weekly lifestyle and travel vlogs alongside the photography that came with it.

It was the Monday following the race so Carlos had taken it as a rest day, you had woken up that morning in his arms, tracing circles on one of them as you both spoke about your plans for the day.

“And a haircut is what I really need.” He said to you, as you moved a strand that had fallen into his eyes.

“No, I like it long, you look more -” You paused. “Mature.” Giggling, you moved your hands up to run your fingers through his hair. He shook his head at you, a large smile plastered onto his face. He leaned forward onto his forearms, connecting your lips together for a brief second before pulling away and rolling out of bed. Leaving you, still huddled in all of the covers, watching him as he strode across the room to the hotel chest of drawers, pulling out two t-shirts; one of which he put on and the other being chucked in your general direction.

“So, cariño, what is your plan for today?” Carlos asked, flopping onto the bed and looking up to you.

“I think I’m going to go and explore the town, some of my followers have recommended a few places so I think I am going to check those out, take a few photos-” You trailed off as he began to draw patterns onto the palm of your hand. You smiled fondly at him, you had met just before lockdown completely by chance after you bumped into him in a train station. He had asked for your number and feeling like he had given you no reason to say no, you did and as it turns out, it was the best decision of your life. “What is your plan for the day ahead, mi Amor.”

“I think I am meeting Lando this afternoon at a café down the road. I’m going to teach him to play chess.” He said proudly, emphasising the word ‘chess.’

“Chess?” You questioned, reaching over for the top and putting it on. It was one of his old team McLaren t-shirts, you scoffed at his still apparent loyalty to the team; admittedly it was your favourite but Ferrari didn’t need to know that.

“Yes.” Carlos stated, he then pointed at the t-shirt you were wearing. “I would recommend not leaving the hotel room with that t-shirt on. I don’t want to get into trouble.” He fought to keep the smile off of his lips. Your eyes lit up, “I wouldn’t even dream of it, mi Amor.”

You had agreed with Carlos that as soon as you had finished what you had set out to do that morning, you would meet him in the café alongside Lando. “Do you fancy playing a game of chess with me, later?” You had asked before you went your separate ways.

Carlos gave a lopsided grin and kissed your forehead. “We will see, cariño, we will see.” With that he stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked down the street. Styria was a beautiful town, a handful of buildings situated in the mass of rolling hills and mountain tops that covered the landscape for as far as the eye could see.

You had walked up to a stone viewing point at the peak of the town, a small bench that overlooked the south past Styria and into the Austrian countryside.

You loved this time you got to yourself, it allowed for you to sit and reminisce; bathing in all of the memories that lead up to this point in your life. You thought back to the day Carlos asked you to move to Italy with him - due to him changing teams. It almost broke your relationship, the thought of leaving all of your family and friends behind in England but in the end you decided it was an adventure too thrilling to pass on...

It was a breezy summer evening in London, the clouds had blanketed the city and a faint rumble of the traffic could be heard from your apartment. Carlos had messaged you earlier that day, asking if he could talk to you when he got home - for the remainder of that afternoon nerves had settled comfortably in the pit of your stomach. At last you heard the unlocking of the door, your head whipped around to see a tired looking Carlos to fall through the door with a sigh. As soon as he looked up and saw you sat on the sofa, his eyes gleamed. “Mi amor.” He said tiredly, his brows knitted momentarily before he nodded his head. “Right, my text message.” You nodded unsure of where this conversation was heading. It was early days in your relationship so anything was possible.

“I got an offer from Ferrari-” He started, making his way over to you, you watched him intently, nibbling on your lower lip. “It’s an offer that in this industry you don’t turn down, obviously there is a lot to consider because it would mean leaving McLaren and-” He sighed, “This country behind.”

A line appeared between your brows, you didn’t speak for fear of interrupting his train of thought. He took your hand in his.

“If I signed with Ferrari, I would have to move to Italy-” Your mouth made an ‘o’ shape. “Which is why I wanted to ask you if you would come with me.”

You definitely didn’t expect him to ask this, any expression that was on your face before had been wiped as you took to staring. “I’m asking a big thing and obviously you don’t have to answer straight away.” He rushed in response to your dumbfounded expression.

For the next few days - after that conversation - the atmosphere between the pair of you had become tense, you had decided to call your sister and explained the whole situation to her. In a nutshell she called you an idiot for not saying yes immediately.

“I’ve been thinking-” You began to Carlos that evening . “I would love to move to Italy with you. It’s a good opportunity to really write our story, explore the world - together. It will be such a great adventure.” Carlos didn’t need to ask you twice and he enveloped you into his arms and span you around, meeting your lips with his.

“I love you.” He said, placing his forehead on yours. That night was also the first time those three words were exchanged. “I love you too.” You replied sweetly, your lips brushing his as you did so.

You smiled fondly at the memory. You were so lucky to have found Carlos - actually you found each other - you like to believe that it was the universe who had a hand in it. Carlos was your soulmate and you were honoured to be able to call him that.

Deciding it was time you made your way back to him, you started on your journey back to the main town - down the steep, winding path, birds darting overhead and the chirp of crickets sounding in the hedgerows.

You reached the café and as soon as you opened the door, you were hit with the smell of warm coffee, you went over to the counter and ordered yourself a latte - casting your gaze around the old fashioned shop, you were surprised to see that only a few people were sitting inside; an older couple, who had taken extreme interest in the pair you were here to see. You chuckled to yourself as the barista placed your drink onto the counter in front of you.

“Drew quite the crowd earlier.” He leant over the counter, pointing to the pair, they were stuck in an intense game of chess and by the looks of it - Lando was winning. Carlos looked up, shaking his head as Lando moved another one of his pieces off of the board; as he did he noticed you standing there and waved you over.

“Yes, I bet they did.” You chuckled, taking the drink and nodding ‘thanks’ to him. Carlos pulled a chair up for you and motioned to the chess board in anguish, “You will not believe it, mi Amor. He is beating me.” Lando was sat on the other side wearing a cocky grin and his arms crossed onto the table.

“So what you are trying to tell me, Carli , is that you taught Lando too well and now he is beating you.” You pointed out, the corners of your eyes crinkled. Carlos only glared at you, sighing dramatically. Lando played incredibly well and did take the victory, punching his arms in the air as he called out ‘checkmate.’

“The student becomes the master.” He cheered, high fiving you and offered to shake Carlos’ hand but Carlos pouted and pushed it away with his index finger. “No. How on earth did you win? I’ve only just taught you.” He cried out.

You looked at Lando as Lando looked at you, both fighting the urge to laugh. You couldn’t hold it in as you held onto the table - both doubling over.

“I love you, Carli, I really do but - boy - are you a sore loser.” You managed to say.

“Well, cheers, mate.” Lando said getting up, wiping the tears from the corner of his eyes. “I’m going to head off now. Dinner with Jon.” You waved as he left, fist bumping Carlos on his way past.

“Do you fancy a game with me now?” You asked, your elbow was resting on the table so you leant on the heel of your palm.

“On one condition.” Carlos said, setting the chess board back up, “As long as you promise not to beat me like Lando just did.”

“Of course, mi Amor.” You said, a hint of mocking in your tone. You admired the way he scrunched up his nose as he concentrated, working out what his first move was going to be.

“The aim of chess is to be in control of your opponent, you want to be able to trick them into doing exactly what you want them to do.” Carlos said, moving his first piece. “You have to play with dominance.” He added theatrically.

“You want me to be dominant?” You repeated incredulously, a smirk toying with your lips. “Well, why didn’t you say so. After all this time-”

“Mi Amor.” He gasped, lowering his voice. “Not like that -” He stammered, a pink flush rising up his neck. You only winked in reply and made your move.

“Go on, tell me more about chess.” You urged him on, watching as he went to make his move. He paused, met your gaze and narrowed his eyes. You shrugged innocently and he carried on; his gaze softened as a reminiscent haze coated his eyes.

“You know,” Carlos began, placing the chess piece down and resting both of his elbows onto the table. “When my dad first met my mum, he taught her how to play chess and they used to sit in the kitchen on a Sunday morning after church and play. It was then my mum who taught me, on the weekends when my dad was away racing; we used to sit in the kitchen together on a Sunday after church and play. It was always the highlight of my weekend.” You watched as he fondly spoke about his family, warmth filled your chest.

“You teach me well then and maybe we could turn it into a tradition.” You spoke gently, reaching over the table to take his hand in yours. Awe transformed his face as he gazed at you.

Many years later you would end up making it a tradition, as you taught your daughter how to play on a Sunday after church as she watched her daddy race. You would tell her the story every time you would go to play and every time you would think about how lucky you were to have bumped into that stranger in the train station. They say that you will find your soulmate when you least expect it and after all these years - you would have to agree.

#f1 #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz fanfiction #lando norris x reader #f1 2021 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fandom #formula one fanfiction #formula one one shot #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one #Ferrari

419 notes · View notes

azaleavi · 3 years

Text

“All of the songs are about you”

Requested by anon: Hi, first of all I want to thank you for all your amazing work that you share with us, I absolutely adore everything that you write!!! Secondly, I was wondering if I could request something with Sebastian, where reader is a famous singer and younger than him, and when they reveal their relationship, people start saying that he is only using her and he gets worried that she will leave him for someone her age. Once again, thank you! 😚

Word count: 2k

Author's note: Thank you for your kind words dear nonnie! I hope you like it.

Warning(s): language

Feedback is always appreciated and don’t forget to reblog and like if you enjoyed it and want to see more. Thank you!

Masterlist

Both of you being famous wasn't easy with you being a singer and Sebastian being an actor. Especially when you wanted to keep your relationship a secret and you were quite younger than him. You have been dating for a while now and you couldn't be more in love with him. He was your muse for many of your songs, but the fans didn't know that. They did notice though that you started writing more love songs than before. You got questions about it almost every day, but you never answered them. They had their speculations, but you never confirmed any of it. It might be selfish, but you wanted to keep him all to yourself and both of you agreed to wait a little more before going public. He was promoting his new movie and you didn't want people to think that you announced your relationship only to give more publicity to it. But sometimes the universe doesn't care what you want.

It was a normal day, like any other, when you were at Sebastian's house and you started craving some McDonald's. The weather was nice for the time being past 10 pm so you decided to go out to buy it instead of ordering. It was dark already so you weren't afraid that anybody would see or recognize you. It was a five minute walk from his house and you thought it would be nice have a short walk. You waited for Sebastian to lock the front door then started walking down the street hand in hand. It probably wasn't the best idea, but you really didn't think that any paparazzi would be near you. You went into the fast food place to buy what you needed, then started walking back to his place, laughing at a story he was telling you. You loved these late night walks, the dark giving you a sense of comfort.

"Baby" he stopped walking as still giggled, making you stop as well. You turned to him, eyebrows raised in question, a smile still on your face. "I love you" he blurted out, intently looking at you, waiting for your reaction. He never said it before, despite dating for almost 6 months now. You didn't say it either yet, not wanting to make him uncomfortable or rush him. After his last relationship he wanted to be extra sure when saying the three words and you understood him. Your heart skipped a few beats at his confession, the smile widening on your lips.

"I love you too, Seb." you beamed, stepping closer to him and pulling him into a hug.

"Thank god." he mumbled into your hair, making you pull away.

"What do you mean 'thank god'? How could I not feel the same way about you? Haven't you heard the songs I wrote lately?" you asked jokingly in disbelief, but knowing he didn't mean it like that.

"You know what I mean" he blushed under the light of the streetlamp.

"I do" your arms going around his neck you pulled him down into a deep kiss. When you broke apart you walked back to his house to finally eat.

What you didn't realize was that there was a paparazzi following you, getting the perfect angle of your kiss, taking a series of photos.

The next morning you were woken up by your phone essentially exploding with calls and messages. You groaned as you reached for it, barely being able to touch it as Sebastian refused to let go of your waist.

"Why is your phone waking us up at the ass crack of dawn?" he groaned, rubbing his eyes.

"I don't know" you unlocked it to see at least 25 calls from your manager and another few from friends and family. Around the same amount of texts were sent as well, making you sit up in bed, confused. "Something is wrong." he sat up at your tone to look at your phone. You dialed your manager, putting it on speaker. She picked up right away.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she almost screamed into the device, making Sebastian look at you.

"I was sleeping. It's 7 am." you explained.

"Care to tell me why is you and Sebastian kissing plastered on every news site on the internet right now?" your whole world stopped at her words.

"What did you say?" Sebastian spoke up as you were still frozen in your spot.

"Oh your partner in crime is there too? Great. I don't have to say this twice." she was being sarcastic, but you didn't care. You just wanted an explanation.

"Tell us what is happening, please" you pleaded.

"There are multiple pictures of you going around. They are claiming that they took them last night." she explained, but that wasn't enough.

"What pictures?" you asked.

"Pictures of you holding hands and kissing." you ran your hand through your hair.

"Fuck" Sebastian sighed.

"That's an understatement." you heard shuffling on the other side. "So I recommend you guys figure out what you are going to do and do it real fast because it is getting out of hand."

"Yeah, sure we will do that." he took the phone from you. "Thanks."

"Just doing my work." she ended the call with a sigh. Sebastian looked at you as you stared at your legs, deep in thought.

"Hey" he brushed his hand up your back, shaking you out of your mind.

"Yeah?" you looked at him, startled.

"We need to do something." he explained.

"Yeah, yeah, sure. What should we do? Go public? I mean we don't really have any other choice." you furrowed your brows.

"Do you want that?" he wanted you to be hundred percent okay with whatever you were going to do.

"Yes, I just hoped it wouldn't happen like this." you sighed. "Do you want that?" you asked back.

"Yes. We already talked about going public so I guess we will have to do it now." he shrugged.

"How are we doing this then?" you stood up to get dressed, getting ready for the day.

"Posting a video on TikTok?" he grinned.

"Absolutely not. We are not posting on Tiktok." you shook your head, laughing.

"So where do you want it? Facebook?" he raised his eyebrows, joking.

"No." you laughed. "I was thinking about posting a pic on Instagram." you threw out the idea. Both of you used the app a lot so it would be the best choice.

"Okay, let's find a picture." he also stood up.

"Ah-ah" you held out your hand to stop him. "You talk to your manager while I pick out a picture to post on my account and you can post one on yours if you want to. Mine is going to be a surprise." you grinned, already having one in mind. It was your favorite picture of you, taken by a friend without your knowledge. You were in a parking lot at the beach, you sitting on the hood of his car while he was standing between your legs, kissing you. There was a second picture, where you were leaning your forehead against his, both of you laughing at your friends shouting at you to get a room. Both of your faces were clearly seen on them so you decided to post both of them.

'All of the songs are about you' the caption read. In seconds your notifications were blowing up with comments from fans. You didn't want to read them, because you knew how people on the internet could get and you knew that you being younger than him would bother some of them. Sebastian came out of the bedroom to sit next to you.

"You posted it?" he asked, taking out his phone.

"Yep" you smiled. You leaned your head against his shoulder as he opened the app, waiting for his reaction. He immediately searched up your name and tapped on the photo. His thumb froze on the little heart as he read the caption. He put the phone down and grabbed your chin to pull you to his soft lips in a kiss.

"I love you." he mumbled into your lips.

"I love you too." you giggled. He pulled away to pick up the phone to leave a comment. 'If I wrote songs mine would be about you too' you snorted at it. "You are cute"

A few days later you had enough courage to check the comments people were leaving online. Maybe it wasn't the best idea.

'Jesus. Isn't he like 12 years older than her?? Gross'

'He is definitely using her lmao but I can't blame him, get that coin king'

'Y'all think she calls him daddy in the bedroom kjsdnhs'

'She is just using him to write songs'

There were nice comments as well, calling you cute together and wishing you well. The mean comments always stuck with you more though and you didn't want Sebastian to read them. It was enough that you went through them. Both of you were a little insecure about your age gap, but you loved each other so you helped the other through the harder times.

You got to his house and walked in as he asked you to not to knock anymore. You found him sitting on his couch, phone in hand. Hoping that he wasn't doing what you thought he was doing you sat down next to him. He had instagram open.

"Seb" you sighed, taking the phone out of his hands.

"What? I just wanted to see what they were saying." he tried to defend himself.

"You shouldn't read these." you shook your head. "So you wanna watch a movie?" you changed the subject. He agreed with your suggestion.

The movie had been playing for a half an hour when he pulled away from your cuddling.

"What if they are right?" his voice was so quiet so almost didn't hear him. You paused the movie to look at him.

"What do you mean?" you asked, confused by his sudden outburst.

"The comments saying that you could do so much better than me" he kept looking at his feet. You sat up and grabbed his chin to turn his head towards you, your heart breaking at his words. This was exactly why you didn't want him to read them.

"Baby" you sighed. "They are not right. Not even by far. I could not find anyone better than you even if I tried. But I'm not trying because I have you with me and you are the best thing that happened to me in a long time. So get that thought out of your head." you stared into his eyes to get your point across.

"But don't you want someone your age?"

"No I don't." you shook your head. "I am perfectly happy with you and I don't need anyone else." you held his cheeks between your palms. "Plus I like it that you are older." you smirked making him chuckle lightly. Climbing onto his lap you pulled him closer. "I love it that you are more experienced." you pressed a soft kiss on his cheek. "I love it that you are taller." a kiss under his ear. "I love it that you are always so so sweet to everyone you meet." a kiss on his nose. Your right hand went into his hair as your lips kissed down to his neck. "And I love the way you make me feel when it's just the two of us." you whispered into his ear, your breath hitting his skin, making him let out a moan. He grabbed your waist in a strong grip. "I love how big your hands are." you nipped at his skin on his neck earning another noise of pleasure and his fingers digging into your skin. "But most importantly" you pulled away so you could look into his eyes to show your sincerity. "I love you. All of you. With everything I have." his eyes softened as he pulled you into a passionate kiss.

"I love you too."

Permanent taglist: @byatomoe

Sebastian Stan taglist: @wobblymug @sleutherclaw @toms-spiders @sarcastically-defensive17 @allforkook @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @mrsbarnesinmyimagination @bbl32 @wakandabiitch2

get added to my taglist

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan blurb #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan oneshot #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan fic #bucky barnes #sebastian stan x you

405 notes · View notes

hydrangeapartridge · 3 years

Text

Chocolate kisses and Catpuccinos

A Shinso x reader fanfiction (complete fic in 4 chapters)

Read on AO3

Tags: Coffe shop/cat café AU, Shinso x reader, accident prone reader, Pro Hero Shinso, fluff, slow burn, mutual pining, clumsy reader

Word count: 5k+ (fic total : 30k+)

Summary:

There is this man who often comes to your café. A particular customer who gives you a sense of ‘déjà-vu’. He always orders plain black coffee; no sugar, no extra syrup or topping. He then silently enjoys his drink for around half an hour, observing, and occasionally petting the cats.

His hair always looks kind of messy, untamed lavender curls that you think are maybe dyed? You often find your eyes drawn to his slim silhouette but try not to stare at him too much, not wanting to be rude. But he definitely looks familiar...

- - -

In which you are an accident prone-waitress in a cat café where Pro Hero MindJack (aka Shinso Hitoshi) likes to spend time. How will your relationship evolve through the four seasons of one year?

Author’s word: I am currently undergoing a MHA obsession, and after Bakugou, I wanted to write about Shinso. This boy is adorable and deserves more love... and also, a coffee shop/cat café AU no one asked for!! It's a light story, meant to be cute, and to satisfy my inner teeange girl with a bit of a shojo manga atmosphere.

The fic will be 4 chapters long, one for each season of the year and the rating will go up in later chapters

Chapter 1: Spring

(chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4)

SPRING

You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep Spring from coming

On the way to work that morning, you’re considering your hypothesis about this man again. Maybe he’s famous? A rockstar? A model? He could be; you find he’s charming in an unusual way. The ‘cool’ type of handsome some would say. He somehow reminds you of emo singers you used to crush on when you were younger. Watching the way his long eyelashes accentuate the shadows under his eyes satisfies your inner teenage girl.

There is this man who often comes to your café. A particular customer who gives you a sense of ‘déjà-vu’. He always orders plain black coffee. No sugar, no extra syrup or topping. He then silently enjoys his drink for around half an hour, observing, and occasionally petting the cats.

Have you met him when his hair was a different color? An old classmate? Plausible; he doesn’t look much older than you do.

You’re ticked that you can’t pinpoint where you’ve seen him before. Is he a retail worker from one of your favorite shopping places? Not impossible, since he always drops by the café very early or very late. But that’s not quite it.

You almost got ran over.

Lost in your thoughts, you walk on autopilot. Despite the bips of the pedestrian light that starts flashing, you cross the large street, like you do everyday. Alone this time.

The loud honking of a car finally brings you back to reality but it’s too late. You don’t even have time to brace for the impact. Your last thoughts are that you’ll never get your answer about the lavender haired man.

The impact you expected never comes. In the blink of an eye you find yourself looking at the crossing from above, upside down, the sudden lift and position making you dizzy. Your stomach is in your throat; you’re manhandled by something that has you traveling across in the air, unnaturally so. When you’re finally put back down on the ground, your legs are all wobbly and your heart is ponding in your chest. It takes you a second to orientate yourself and find you’re standing on the concrete of the sidewalk, as if you never crossed the street in the first place. Something around you prevents you from falling as you regain your balance. You look down and find what saved you: large white ribbons wrapped tightly around your torso. The second you realize your situation, you’re released from the ribbon’s hold. You take a deep breath, eyes scanning your surroundings as you difficultly wrap your mind around what just happened.

A shiver runs down your spine and you jump, startled when a tall figure approaches you.

“Are you ok?”

Your legs give out under you and he’s quick to catch you. In the safety of his arms, you lose consciousness.

Purple eyes, lavender hair. Even with the mask covering the lower part of his face, you recognize the customer that occupied your mind enough to have you almost killed. That customer who was indeed a celebrity all along; Pro Hero MindJack. It’s his patrol area.

In the aftershock you realize you have trouble speaking, words coming out not quite in the right order as you try to tell him that you’re fine; or at least physically uninjured.

MindJack nods and then slowly comes closer; careful. In his hand you spot a sandal that looks just like the comfortable leather ones you love so much. Only then do you notice you’re missing a shoe, and are incidentally hyperventilating.

- - -

You get a day off from work. You regain consciousness in the ambulance and once you’ve drank a little bit of orange juice, the paramedics give you a checkup to make sure you suffered no hidden injuries. Policemen then accompany you back home. The whole process feels blurry and you soon find yourself in the silence of your apartment, where your cat nestles itself in your lap, purring as you mindlessly caress her.

You could have never come back to her.

That night, you struggle to find sleep.

“Thank God you’re okay!” Haru, your bubbly colleague arrives before you open the shop and brings you into a warm embrace. “Seriously, you should have come to my place. Staying alone after that kind of incident is no good” She scolds you but her tone is relieved.

On the following day you are extra careful while crossing the streets to work.

The smell of fresh coffee beans envelops you in a reassuring cocoon when you enter your cat café. Your shoulders finally relax as you fall into your easy routine, like nothing of importance happened the previous day; work a welcomed distraction.

“I’m fine Haru. But thank you for your texts” You force a smile; try not to show the events of the previous day have shaken you quite a bit. But it’s nice to know there’s someone who cares; a friend that is there for you.

Life goes on and after a little chat about lighter matters, as well as generous pets to all your feline lodgers, you open the café.

- - -

The next time you see MindJack, he’s sitting at one of the tables; a cat already nestled on his lap. It’s Yuki, the snow white fluffy cat Haru found dirty and starving in the street the previous week. She’s extremely friendly; you’re sure she’ll get adopted very soon.

Haru took his order: a large black coffee. You prepare it and gather up your courage to bring it to his table.

“Careful there” He simply tells you in the most neutral of tones, and you barely have time to thank him before he’s taking his coffee mug from the tray and turns back to place it on the table in front of himself.

As you approach, Yuki jumps from MindJack’s knees and comes between your legs to rub herself onto them while you walk. You try your best to avoid her and keep walking but like most cats, she just has this talent of putting herself just in front of your legs. You don’t want to inadvertently kick her so you try to make a side step, but you trip over your own foot and start losing your balance.

As you feel yourself dangerously lean forward, you clutch the serving tray in your hands, your knuckles going white. There’s no way you’re spilling coffee onto a customer (again). Especially not a celebrity.

In a fraction of second MinJack is up and his hand on your shoulder puts you back on your two feet while his second hand grabs the tray and keeps it steady.

“Ah no, take your time, enjoy your coffee” You blurt out while shaking one hand. “I-“

Yuki, now that she’s made you look like a fool, treacherously jumps back onto his lap, and you glare at her cute little face as she stares at you. She soon starts slowly kneading onto the hero’s pants, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

MindJack takes a sip from his steaming coffee, and then raises a questioning eyebrow at you, probably wondering why you’re still standing beside his table. He decided to go for his wallet.

You place your tray in front of you, like a shield to hide your embarrassment.

“Thank you for saving me the other day,… Sir” You stammer, not too loudly so the other customers won’t hear.

MindJack’s deep eyes widen and while he’s still holding his cup in one hand, the other goes to rub the back of his neck, almost bashfully. It’s a contrast to the mysterious and cool vibe he gives out in full gear. It makes him less intimidating.

“It’s nothing really. I was just doing my job” He takes his time between his sentences you notice; like he’s always pondering what to say before actually saying it, trying to choose the best words and course of action. “’Sir’ feels a little bit too formal. You can call me Shinso” His deep voice is so steady and his sentences well-constructed, so far away from the hectic string of nonsense that usually escapes your mouth before you even have time to think about it.

“Oh, okay. That’s … okay” You’re a little flustered. It’s not often you make casual conversation with a Pro-Hero. Especially one who saved your life.

You’re distracted by Yuki who makes herself comfortable on his knees. He’s probably a cat person, given how often he comes by, and how the cats easily approach him. You notice how big his hands are when he strokes Yuki’s fur. Hands he uses to handle weapons that restrain villains and save innocents. They look big circling his cup too; they’re probably almost twice the size of yours.

There’s a messenger bag next to him, and you wonder if it contains any confidential files, or if its content is no different from what a normal person carries. In his casual clothes, he admittedly doesn’t give out the hero vibe. Or the important person vibe. There’s an aura of controlled informality around him; that makes him seem laid back, but inapproachable at the same time. Maybe it has to do with his seemingly bored expression and tired violet eyes. He doesn’t look ordinary, yet he doesn’t look extraordinary.

You realize a bit late that you’re kind of rudely staring at him like he’s some sort of surrealist apparition.

- - -

“I-If you need anything, just don’t hesitate” You don’t give him time to add anything as you storm back to the kitchen, your heart ponding in your chest.

You probably made a fool of yourself but at least you’re happy that you got to properly thank him.

Despite being old, your little cat, Cathy, is still agile and also mischievous. The little minx escaped your vigilance, jumping from your second floor apartment’s window while you did your weekly cleaning. You were alerted by her distinctive raucous meowing and went outside to find her stuck on the branch of an old oak tree in the nearby park. How she even got up there with her old sore joints is beyond you, but the problem is you can’t catch her; the branch too high for you to reach. You even bring your kitchen’s footstool to try and reach higher but it’s no use, you are decidedly too short. You get on your tiptoes even if it doesn’t help, and Cathy meows louder, begging you for help, or maybe scolding you for your uselessness.

“Come on Cathy. Come; jump in mommy’s arms” You try to coax her into climbing down but you cat resolutely stays on her branch, claws sinking into the wood.

You patiently wait for your cat to relax, cooing and softly calling her, but at one point, you hear a loud cracking noise. Startled, Cathy jumps onto a nearby branch as the one she was standing on starts to move. You see the wood suddenly splitting and without a warning, the branch falls.

Who’s going to take care of Cathy?

The problem is you are standing on your footstool just under it. Caught off guard by the sudden branch drop, you lose your balance and start falling backwards. Time seems to slow down as you see the large branch come dangerously closer to your face. You close your eyes, ready for the impact on both your back and your face.

You’re going to finish squashed between the branch and the ground.

You’re at least relieved to find you feel no pain from your unfortunate fall. There’s even a familiar sensation of security, of tightness on your upper body. A feeling of déjà-vu brings you back to your senses and you realize that you are lying on the ground, unharmed. The branch is a few feet away and your ears catch the sound of fabric ruffling. You look up, eyes squinting under the sun of the warm spring afternoon and find two violet eyes staring down at you.

“Are you ok?” MindJack asks, repeating the same words from earlier this week.

You nod, feeling a bit lost. Looks like he saved you again.

“It’s the second time in a week that you find yourself in trouble. Be careful.” He states, echoing your thoughts. “Can you stand up?” He asks but still helps you to your feet.

“I was… my cat…” You struggle to catch up to what you were doing. Your hero’s large protective hand on your shoulder is quite distracting. So are his deep purple eyes assessing you for any injury.

“Cathy” You breathe, relieved, nuzzling into her soft fur. It seems like she’s had enough of being outside, because she doesn’t try to get away, instead pressing further against you.

Seemingly satisfied to find you unharmed, he turns his attention back to the tree. It’s only then that you notice Cathy is still meowing.

MindJack careful scoops her into his arms. Being much taller than you, it’s easy for him. He then carefully places your cat into your waiting arms, and to feel her petit form against you eases the strong emotions inside your chest.

“Cathy?” MindJack repeats, probably disturbed by the very human sounding name. People often were.

“Yes, Cathy the cat” You automatically reply, like it’s obvious, and even though you can’t see his mouth because of his facemask, you find his eyes imperceptibly crinkle with the hint of a smile.

“You should get Cathy inside… and get some rest” His tall figure encourages you back inside, and once he’s made sure you’re securely locked into your apartment, with no risk of bringing anymore trouble to yourself or your cat, he leaves.

- - -

MindJack… No, Shinso, comes for coffee more often than before.

Instead of just making a quick appearance very early or very late, after or before his work you suppose, he sometimes ends up spending the entire afternoon at the café, reading while petting one of the cats. He attracts them, that’s for sure. Maybe it’s because of his calm demeanor?

From time to time, the way the cats favor him earns him jealous looks from rowdy children who desperately want to pet the cats but scare them away with their loud noises and large movements.

Today, the cat that got his favor is Lune, a slender male Carthusian whose dark grey fur almost looks bluish, and with intriguing mismatched eyes. Lune is standing on the Shinso’s table, alternating between curiously sniffing the almost empty coffee cup, and bumping Shinso’s hand for a pet.

“Sorry I got distracted” You feel the tips of your ears grow hot when Haru answers that “Yeah I’ve seen that”

You observe from behind the register’s counter as the lavender haired man absentmindedly pets the cat with one hand, the other holding what you think is a horror story book.

“You’re staring” Haru’s comment makes you jump, and caught in the act, you automatically try to occupy your hands with anything. You settle on rubbing the already pristine counter clean with your tea towel.

“Yes. You enjoy his work?” He asks and you feel a bit out of the conversation since you don’t really read those types of novels. You busy yourself with cleaning the shining counter, just so you can eavesdrop on the conversation.

While Haru teases you, Shinso has gotten up. He’s walking towards you and soon leans onto the counter, his jacket on, ready to leave.

Haru is quick to register the different drinks he had during the course of the afternoon. And since she doesn’t struggle as much as you do with the machine, she’s able to multitask and asks Shinso: “That book you were reading, it’s the new Stephen King?”

“I didn’t get to read it yet but-“ Haru stops dead in her tracks as her eyes fall onto an older customer at the back of the café who’s offering cake to one of the cats. “Take over for me” She asks you before she leaves the counter and storms toward the lady.

“Hey! No feeding the cats” Her loud harsh tone makes you wince. The customer probably won’t like it.

You throw Shinso an apologetic smile and take the cash he’s handing you to pay for his drinks. His eyes on you make you a little bit uncomfortable. You’re not as good as Haru with multitasking.

“Do you like horror stories?” He asks you casually and your head snaps up from the register.

“Huh? … Not really…” You answer truthfully but almost apologetically. You wish you had something in common to share with him. “Horror stories make me really scared. So much that when I’m alone at home I can’t close my eyes without thinking there’s some kind of monster under my bed or something lurking in the dark”

Shinso seems disappointed. He probably would have preferred to continue his conversation with Haru than to be stuck with boring old you.

“Here’s your change” You open your palm to let the coins fall into Shinso’s upturned one. Two of them tumble just fine but the third one stays stuck onto your skin. Your curse under your breath, wildly shaking your hand to try and get the coin to drop while a very circumspect Shinso watches you.

“Are you… ok?” His head is tilted to the side, trying to understand the strange display of hand shaking taking place just under his eyes.

“It’s nothing” You reassure him as best you can while simultaneously shaking your wrist hard. “Just my damn quirk”

You stop moving your sore hand and take a long breath, concentrating instead of getting all flustered. It usually works best if you focus. Soon the coin falls onto the wood of the counter, rolling on its edge before flatly crashing onto the floor. Shinso picks it up and eyes it suspiciously, like it holds the secret to some kind of magic trick.

“My skin is highly rich in iron, with low magnetic properties” You explain your quirk to him. “I can’t quite control it and sometimes when it activates, I attract metals that are really close by”

To you it’s a pain really. It’s not even useful. Not like Shinso’s incredible quirk. But it’s fine. You never aspired to become a Pro Hero; you’re fine working in your little café, surrounded by cats… and nice customers.

Shinso nods to your explanation. “So it only works on objects with a metal component?”

His interest for your quirk surprises you, but you silently nod in validation. Maybe he’s just polite enough to make small talk with you.

Suddenly, you hear the sound of vibrations and Shinso takes his phone out of his pocket, intently looking at the screen. “I’ve got to go. Good day to you” He politely excuses himself and you watch him leave, wondering what kind of disaster he’ll help handle today while you just serve drinks.

“Lady, the rules are the rules, no feeding the cats! If you’re not happy be my guest and leave”

Haru’s rising tone makes you snap back to the reality of work and you rush to help her deal with the difficult customer. If only everyone was a nice as Shinso, work would be easier.

That evening when you balance the cash register, checking all the receipts, you realize you made a mistake counting Shinso’s change, and not in his favor. You still struggle with mental calculus sometimes. It ticks you off to be so sloppy. In any case, if Shinso noticed your change count was wrong, he didn’t say anything.

- - -

It’s hot outside and you’re glad you’re almost arrived at your destination. Your yet light jacket is too much; it feels like it’s summer already and you weren’t prepared for the temperature to rise so much in the afternoon. After shopping for cat supplies, you decided to stop by the flowershop to get some flowers to decorate the café. You like having some on the counter; preferably bright colored ones with a sweet fragrance that lighten up your day.

You’re thirsty and feel like you’re about to melt under the scorching sun so you make a quick stop before the flower shop, dropping by in a small drug-store to buy some refreshments. The cashier is watching TV, and as you put your strawberry flavored-water bottle on the register, you notice a familiar figure on screen.

The journalist holds his mike in front of Shinso.

A plain journalist with glasses and a suit (that he’s probably sweating profusely in given the heat) is about to interview the heroes who just defused a hostage-taking in a bank. Beside him, stand a constipated looking Dynamight as well as Shins-… MindJack, looking as neutral as ever.

MindJack is often called to deal with hostage-takings because his quirk allows him to manage the situation rather easily, with little casualties. He just has to take control of the hostage-taker and it’s mostly done. Easy and safe. He only needs to observe, and then choose the right voice, the right words to have the hostage-taker talk back. Of course if there’s more than one criminal on the spot, it gets trickier.

“MindJack, your quirk is impressive, as always, you tricked that criminal easily...A job well done!” He praises but then makes a comment that bothers you. “… But please don’t mind control me to do something weird haha, we’re live you know"

The cashier checks you out and in your distraction; you don’t hear Shinso’s reply to the rude journalist. “Dat guy there always gives me the creeps” The cashier comments as you take a gulp of your freshly bought drink, quenching your thirst before stepping back under the burning sun.

The man’s forced laugh makes you cringe. Why do people always make this joke? It gets old, and today you feel particularly annoyed at the journalist’s intervention. Do they really think a responsible trustworthy hero like MindJack would go around playing with his quirk like that?

It’s unfair too; they never ask Dynamight “Please don’t blow me to smithereens haha”! While in your opinion, given the blond hero’s usual outbursts, they should be more concerned about his destructive powers than about Shinso’s supposedly scary mind control.

You send him a death glare and internally swear to never buy anything from his shop again. You feel so angry that people can’t see how nice Shinso is. He’s a hero for god’s sake! He saves people; he saved you three times already; and he’s even humble about it. Plus his power shows his cleverness, and is not insanely devastating as more physical quirks, allowing him to manage most situations with reduced damages.

“He’s a great hero” Is all you’re able to retort, your mind so busy being upset that you can’t come up with something more eloquent.

You angrily step out of the store, and once you’re at the flowershop, you end up buying fragrant dark colored lilac. Were it not toxic for cats, you would have gone for lavender.

- - -

Shinso takes up the habit of drinking his espresso at the counter when he’s in a bit of a hurry. Or when it’s slow and he wants to chat with Haru about horror books.

He drinks standing when he doesn’t have time to waste, but when there’s no rush, like now, he sits on one of the barstools. You can’t resist throwing him an occasional glance from the corner of the eye while you get everything ready for lunch’s rush hour.

Shinso’s watching one of the cats, an elegant orange one named Baron. His face is casually resting on his palm, his hair messy but looking soft as always and when he lets out a small yawn, it matches the cat’s opening jaw, like it’s contagious. The rare sight makes you smile to yourself. To see him so relaxed is undeniably pleasant; even though seeing him tired makes you a bit concerned; he probably works too much.

Still, you’re glad he’s warming up to Haru and you. It’s silly but sometimes you’re almost grateful that you nearly got ran over in the beginning of spring, because it’s what led to this comfortable routine.

“Do you own a cat?”

“Haru really likes this cat. She’s dying to bring him home, but she has to convince her landlord.” You take advantage of Haru being on lunch break to share this with him.

Shinso’s tired eyes fall back on you. “I hope he says yes then”

He shakes his head no, and it’s a surprise, given how much he seems to appreciate the little feline’s company. “All of the cats here are opened for adoption you know” You try to tempt him but he shakes his head again, amused but also a bit sad.

“Thank you. I’ve considered it, but my schedule is too hectic. I couldn’t tend to a cat’s needs”

“I don’t know what he’s looking at so intently” You comment with an amused smile.

You nod, understanding. Caring for a pet is an important commitment, even one as independent as a cat. Despite his apparent love for cats, Shinso is responsible enough to know adopting one on impulse wouldn’t be what’s best for the interested cat.

You look back to Baron, and find he’s observing the wall in the corner of the shop with undivided attention. At first you suspect he’s seen a tiny insect and wants to chase it, but looking more carefully, there’s really nothing on the wall.

“Maybe a ghost… or some paranormal creature” Shinso offers and you immediately tense.

“A G-ghost?”

He straightens up and gives you a small lopsided smile. “Some people say cats can see them”

Your eyes dart back to the corner of the room where Baron is still sitting. No way there’s something paranormal in your coffee shop! Ghosts don’t exist. Right?

“It could also be a vengeful spirit…. They are said to be afraid of cats. In ancient Egypt, cats were thought to be guardians of the Underworld. Guardians of the dead…”

His dark eyes meet yours and you gulp. You really really don’t like horror stories. You jump and let out a pathetic scared little squeak when something touches your hand on the counter. Turns out it’s just one of the cat’s tail. Damn, you’re such a scaredy-cat.

“I’m just teasing. Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you” Shinso’s deep voice is soft, without any ounce of mockery, and it should calm your beating heart. Two of his long fingers gently brush against yours where the cat touched you, in a soothing motion, and fear transforms into something else as heat rises to your cheeks.

You want to tell him that he’s fin-no! that it’s fine, but your throat feels dry and you can’t keep your eyes away from his fingers on yours. His hands are so much larger than yours, but his fingers are long and his skin softer than you would expect from someone so used to fighting. You don’t dare move your hand, but you gather up the courage to look up, shyly meeting Shinso’s eyes from under your eyelashes.

“I got your Buddha bowl!” Haru loudly announces.

His amethyst gaze is still on you, but it’s focused on the lower part of your face. He’s thinking about what to say, you can tell from days of silently observing him. He inhales deeply and your eyes fall on his lips as they part, your heart hammering in your chest.

The bell chimes, the front door slams open and you both step back as if burned.

She stops when she gets no immediate reply. Her eyes move from you to Shinso, then back to you.

“You guys alright?” She asks as she places the food she’s gathered on the counter. “You look all flustered” She points and you feel your face go beet red.

“It’s Shinso’s fault! He said there are ghosts in the shop!” You loudly exclaim in hopes it will get Haru’s attention away from you.

Eventually, she turns to your regular customer. “Don’t go scare her! Now she’s never going to sleep tonight…” She reprimands, but not too convincingly given the smile stretching her lips.

Shinso calmly explains the ‘cat seeing things discussion’ you were having, and it looks like you’re the only one who has trouble recovering from what just happened. Haru keeps chatting with Shinso while you excuse yourself to eat your lunch in the break room.

While you munch onto a slice of avocado, you intently look at your hand; where he touched you. It’s a stupid thought but given his cool appearance and intimidating quirk, you didn’t expect Shinso’s hand to be so warm.

- - -

That night when you walk home, you don’t feel safe.

You’re thinking back to the ghost stories Haru and Shinso kept sharing after lunch, and it makes you feel like someone, or something, is following you.

You keep looking back to the badly lit path you’ve walked, but there’s no one but yourself, the streets completely empty at this late hour.

You can’t take it anymore, you break into a run.

At some point you’re about to call Haru for support, but you decide against it. Her shift starts early tomorrow and she needs to rest, and not put up with your scared cowardly nonsense.

You count the minutes left until your street and tell yourself you’re a grown up adult who shouldn’t be afraid to walk back home at night. You’ve done it a thousand times and nothing bad ever happened. There’s no supernatural being waiting to ambush you and eat you or whatever.

You take a deep breath, but that’s when you hear a sound. It sounds like footsteps. You stop dead in your tracks and pay more attention to the surrounding silence. No footsteps. It was probably only an echo of your own. You feel foolish and terrified as you pick up the pace. The walk home seems never-ending and tears well up in your eyes. You’re sure you’re still hearing the noise getting closer.

But that’s when it grabs you, the thing that had truly been following you. Your heart hammers in your chest as two very real hands drag you against a tall hard figure. The man painfully twists one of your arms behind your back, and his other hand goes for your mouth to silence your scream. Now you’re really crying.

“Let me go! Please!” Your voice comes out all muffled, foreign to your ears as you’re manhandled into a darker alley.

“Be quiet little one” The man’s breath is heavy in your ear and makes your skin crawl in disgust. His hold on your face is so strong your nose is hurting and you have difficulty breathing.

You struggle with all your force, but to no use, and still try to scream an incoherent string of curses.

“No way, now that I’ve got you I’ll-“

The man suddenly stops, like he’s frozen into place.

“Release her” You recognize Shinso’s voice, even if you’ve never heard it so cold and directive.

“Are you hurt?” His voice is full of worry and also, anger?

The man obeys immediately, and that’s when you realize he’s been brainwashed. Shinso used your voice to get your assailant under his control.

Once you’re out of the man’s hold, Shinso binds him with his capture weapon to neutralize him. He keeps his hold firm on the fabric as he comes to stand beside you in full hero costume.

You shake your head. You’re mostly terrified. Your cheeks are wet from the tears you shed and your knees are trembling. You crave the warmth and safety of your home. Or at the very least, of Shinso’s warm reassuring hand on you.

But he’s busy calling for back up and in his costume he looks tense; close but too far away to reach.

“I’m sorry. I have to stay” His words come out slow, his voice resonating deeper into his facemask.

The next minutes are a blur. You keep sniffing and avoid thinking about what could have happened to you as policemen arrive to take over. One of them tells you he’ll take you home and the look you give your savior must be miserably pleading because his sharp violet eyes grow impossibly soft as they fill with remorse. You’ve never seen him so expressive before, and it makes your heart sink in your chest.

He still takes time to check on you before you’re escorted back home.

“You’ll be fine. Keep Cathy close, she’ll take care of you” He whispers and then he’s gone.

He shouldn’t be apologizing when he saved you once again. You’re selfish for wanting more of his reassuring presence. You try to tell yourself for the second time tonight that you are a strong grown up woman. You want to be.

Shinso’s hand lifts up and hovers for a second over your head. He’s hesitating. His eyes quickly flick to the policeman beside you and you shamelessly hope he’s going to change his mind.

He sighs deeply, defeated, and then lets his arm fall back to his side while you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, somehow disappointed.

You want to chase after his reassuring presence. Instead, you obediently get into the police car.

At home, you cry yourself to sleep, holding your cat close to your heart in hopes she will protect you from evil.

159 notes · View notes

rowanaelinn · 3 years

Text

Slipped away - chapter one

prompt - single parent @rowaelinscourt

“It’s cold,” Fenrys complained, sitting on Rowan’s new couch.

“We are in the north, you dumbass.” Lorcan snapped. “Of course it’s colder than what you’re used to.”

“Doranelle is in the North too.”

Lorcan took a deep breath, apparently, he wasn’t feeling very patient today. “I don’t know, Fenrys, it might be because we are on a whole other continent, maybe?”

Rowan snorted at his friends, Fenrys was playing dumb just to annoy Lorcan and as always, it worked. They were enjoying their last day of rest before their first day of work tomorrow. It wasn't a new job, not really. The company they worked for had just moved from Doranelle to Orynth, and of course, Rowan and the other employees had to move too.

Rowan knew that with the opening of the new Valg Industries headquarters the next few months would not be smooth sailing, but he believed in himself. Maeve was so confident that she even promoted him. It was a new beginning for Rowan and he was happy about it, his life in Doranelle was the perfect definition of dull. Not that he hated it, he was just glad to be away from his cousins. He didn’t hate them, they were just so… meddlesome.

Rowan walked into his kitchen and opened his fridge, empty. He cursed under his breath. The few bottles of beer he had last night ran out very quickly, they didn’t even have leftovers of the pizza they ordered yesterday. Which was a problem because Rowan was starving and there was no way he would order food for the second night in a row, it had already bothered him to do so yesterday.

He checked his watch, six in the afternoon. He was pretty sure the grocery store didn’t close before seven, he had little time if he wanted to go there. He needed to be quick. “Going shopping, be gone when I come back,” Rowan told his friends as he picked his car key. He needed some time alone but he knew they would probably still be there when he came back, his friends weren’t ones to listen.

He slammed the front door behind him and got into his car. It still smelled new, the leather still a little too stiff under Rowan's body. He had gotten the car yesterday, he had decided that if he was going to change his life, he would do it all the way. Nothing in his life in Doranelle set foot in Terrasen except his friends and his job.

Rowan lived in an upscale residence in downtown Orynth. Between his family's money and the money he was making even before he was promoted, he could afford it. He didn't want to live in the apartments that the company offered to its employees, he needed some peace and quiet.

So Rowan took a house that was too big for him, in a suburb full of family, as if he wasn't almost thirty and wasn't still alone. He had never felt so out of place, but he would get used to it.

He had chosen the opposite of the life he had until then, wanting space. He had left to forget.

When he pulled into the grocery store parking lot, Rowan could have sworn he saw a familiar face. He blinked and it was gone, he shook his head. How could he recognize anyone if he had never been to Terassen? He needed to sleep.

He got out of his car and shivered slightly. Maybe Fenrys was right, it wasn't cold but it was definitely colder than Doranelle at this time of year.

He walked into the store, it was large. Everything in Terassen looked big. The houses, the buildings, the stores... Rowan could get used to it.

He took a basket from the entrance and went straight to the vegetables. The store was almost empty considering the time of day, he could hear a couple of kids laughing in the background but otherwise, everything was quiet. It felt good to be away from the world.

He selected enough vegetables for three days, preferring to shop for short periods rather than a whole week. It made less mess and allowed him to control what he ate. That's one of the things he needed, control.

"Gotcha!" He heard a woman's voice laugh rather loudly.

"Noooo!" A little girl said and Rowan heard her laugh and ran. Gods, children were loud.

A few seconds later, something hit Rowan's legs. He looked down to find a little girl. She was a brunette with blue eyes. She laughed and stood up. "Sorry," she said before running off again to lose whoever was trying to catch her, but it was too late. A tall blonde lady came running up and threw herself on top of the little girl, grabbing her under the arms and throwing her over her shoulder. The little girl screamed with laughter and tried to struggle as the adult spun around. "Stop!" the child screamed but continued to laugh.

Rowan felt like he was intruding but he couldn't stop the tip of his lips from rising slightly. The adult stopped spinning but did not let go of the child, the little one wrapped her arms around the woman's neck and hid her head. "Hey, little monster, did you apologize?" She asked, her eyes still on the little one. Rowan couldn't see her face with the hair hiding it. "Huh?" She shook the little girl slightly but she refused to look at her.

"She did," Rowan said, not wanting the little girl to get into trouble. When the woman looked at him, his heart stopped beating and his whole body froze. It was impossible.

Did the gods hate him that much? What had he done to them for them to punish him like that?

Her eyes widened and he noticed her body going still, her hold around the girl tightening. Her mouth opened and then closed.

As he had been years before, he was struck by the intensity of Aelin Galathynius’s gaze. These blue and gold eyes were mesmerizing, had always been and always will.

His only thought was that she looked older, but since he had last seen her when she was nineteen it wasn’t surprising. She looked like a woman now, and womanhood suited her. She was wearing a white shirt and black skirt, a simple outfit for a working woman, and yet Rowan couldn’t help but stare longer than necessary at her body. If she had been beautiful seven years ago, she was magnificent now.

He wanted to punch himself in the face, so much work to forget about everything that happened, so much work to ignore the guilt and pain just to be ruined by a meeting in a grocery store.

“Rowan,” she breathed.

“Hi, Aelin.”

The little girl looked at him and he noticed everything she had in common with Aelin. Her eyes first, and the same nose and lips. They looked so similar.

Suddenly he was struck by the truth standing in front of him. While it had taken everything in him to try to forget about her, Aelin had moved on. And she had a daughter. Aelin had a life and if the laugh she let out a minute before was any indication, she was happy.

“What are you doing here?” He blurted.

A snort. “What am I doing in a grocery store?”

“In Orynth.”

“This is my hometown.” She said, her voice so tight he couldn’t guess what she might be feeling. It had always been so damn hard to read her. Orynth was her hometown? How come he never knew that? He knew she was from Terassen, her accent betraying her, but didn’t know exactly where. He knew so much about her but at the same time so little. That little truth hurt. “What are you doing here?”

“I moved. For work.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Fuck, that was awkward. “How old is your daughter?” He asked, nodding toward the small girl playing with Aelin’s hair. Aelin looked at her and her expression softened a little.

“Oh, no. She isn’t my…” She took a deep breath. “She’s Aedion and Lysandra’s daughter. I’m just babysitting for the night.” Right, Aedion. That’s why the small girl looks so much like Aelin. “Remember Aedion?”

Of course, he did, last time he saw the man Rowan got his nose broken and a black eye. He wouldn’t forget his old friend so soon. But Rowan didn’t care about that, right now he only cared that Aelin, in fact, didn’t have a daughter. It was easier to breathe suddenly. “Yeah.”

“But she’s four,” Aelin said and he knew it was only so she had something to say. Talking was awkward but the silence was worse.

Before he could say anything else, someone interrupted them by hitting Aelin’s legs, hugging them. This girl was blonde, Ashryver blonde. Gods, how many children did Lysandra and Aedion have?

The youngest paused on the ground and did not waste time before leaving from where she came. Aelin seemed to forget Rowan's entire existence as she knelt down to face the child, though she looked even tenser than a few minutes before.

"Hey, pumpkin, what's going on?" She asked softly, delicately taking the girl's grip to force her to look at her. "Tell me."

"Asper pulled my hair!" The girl cried and Aelin smiled.

"Did you try to tickle his neck?" She asked, making Rowan choke. Aelin didn’t spare him a glance. He wanted to ask her why she wasn’t punishing this Asper for pulling hair but he guessed Aelin would beat him up if he questioned how Aedion chose to raise his children. “You know how sensitive he is.” She smiled at the child. The girl sniffed heavily and Aelin used her sleeve to dry her tears. "Go back over there, I'll be there in two minutes." The child nodded briskly and before she left, she turned her head to Rowan.

His blood ran cold as green eyes fixed on him.

She looked like Aelin on the little one before, of course, but not only that. Did she... No. Lysandra had green eyes too. Rowan could have sworn that Lysandra's eyes were much lighter, but he hadn't seen her in seven years. He was wrong. He had to be wrong.

"Hi!" She said with a big smile. She was missing a tooth in the front, but that didn't take away from her charm.

Rowan swallowed, "Um, Hi." He managed to smile but he couldn't help that she looked too little like Lysandra.

“Are you a grandpa?” The girl asked and Rowan choked. “Only grandpa has grey hair.” She smiled and looked proud of herself. Silver, his damn hair is silver, not grey.

"Go ahead, Helia," Aelin said before Rowan could answer, her voice firm. She pushed the little one toward the alley away from Rowan. Aelin stood up when the little one was gone and his eyes shot to hers.

"It was nice to see you again," she said but he knew she was thinking the exact opposite. Rowan's heart was beating so loudly that Rowan could hear it pounding in his ears.

"Aelin," He called to her, stopping her in her tracks. " Just how... How old is she?"

"Bye, Rowan." Her voice left no room for questions, but he didn't care. He didn't care about what happened in college and now wasn't the time to start.

"Answer me." Not a question and she knew it. He could swear he saw the gold ring in her eyes flutter, a sign he had learned to recognize as anger. Well, let her be angry, he deserved answers.

"Ace, is everything okay?" A man with nearly black hair and sapphire blue eyes asked him. A boy a little taller than Helia was sitting on the man's shoulders and when Rowan saw his green eyes...

He had to be wrong.

"Aelin?" The man asked again as Aelin hadn't looked at him yet, her gaze still on Rowan.

"Yes." She replied with her voice cold. "My friend was just leaving, right?"

The way she said the word "friend" was anything but friendly. Fuck, he wanted to yell at her, he wanted to demand answers now, but he didn't. The two little girls were behind Aelin and the man, watching what was going on.

"Answer my question first."

"Get out." She gritted through her teeth.

"Why do you have your angry voice, Mommy?" The little boy asked and suddenly Aelin's eyes softened and she looked at the boy. She grabbed him by the underarms and took him in her arms.

Mommy.

Her son.

Clearly not the son of the man next to Aelin. He looked about six, maybe even seven.

No. That was impossible. It was only one night. One night he had spent the last seven years regretting...

“Mommy’s not angry.” She smiled as she caressed her son’s hair. Their… No, her son. For all Rowan knew, Aelin only had a thing for men with green eyes. It meant nothing. “But she’s busy right now, go back to the car with uncle Dorian, okay? Then we’ll eat pizza, that’s your favorite, right?” The three kids cheered and Aelin gave her son to the man, Dorian.

“You okay?” He asked, touching Aelin’s shoulder. Rowan didn’t know why but he wanted to slap the man.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in two minutes.” She reassured him and he nodded, letting Aelin’s son on his shoulder as he held the two girls by their hands and walked back to the parking lot. Rowan wanted to stop him, wanted to ask that boy and girl how old they were but they were just kids. He couldn’t scare them. This was between Rowan and Aelin.

“I deserve the truth.”

“You don’t deserve shit. Not after what you did.”

“It was between me and you, not between me and-” He was cut off by her.

“There is nothing between you and them. Do you understand me? Nothing.” Them. So the girl…

He couldn’t take it. She had made it clear already, deep inside he knew the answer to his question but he needed to hear her say it. “Are they mine?” He finally asked and if looks could kill, Rowan would be buried already.

“They are mine.”

Why did she have to be so fucking complicated? He clenched his fists, trying to keep his anger inside him but it was so damn hard. “Am I their father?”

Both of them were breathing heavily and Rowan was glad for the empty store now, not wanting to cause a scene. “No.” Her voice was lethal and Rowan’s mind froze. He didn’t know if it was a good thing or not. But they looked so much like him… “If your question is whether or not you knocked me up, the answer is yes. But you are not a father. Never been and never will be to them.”

They were his. Rowan’s entire world stopped and he wasn’t sure how he kept standing. He was a father, no matter what Aelin said.

“How could you hide this from me? How could you take them away from me?” He was screaming now. He didn’t care about causing a scene anymore, he didn’t care about anything but the two kids in a car outside. “They are my kids!”

“You don’t even know their fucking name!” She was screaming too, cheeks red. Fuck, why did she always had to be the most attractive when she was angry? He hated her so fucking much. “I am the one who’s been raising them alone for almost seven fucking years!” She didn’t look alone, not with that Dorian by her side.

Suddenly, he knew Aedion didn’t punch him for what he and Aelin shared the last night he saw her. He had punched him for getting his cousin pregnant. He knew Aelin hadn’t been honest about what happened between them after the sex or he would have been dead by now, so now he was sure it was because of the kids. He had deserved it, deserved more than the five punches Aedion managed to give Rowan before Fenrys and Lorcan separated them.

“I will die before I let you treat my children like you treated me. Get out of Terassen, nobody wants you here.”

She left storming out of the store without her groceries and Rowan was frozen. He knew he should go back after her and apologize, he should beg her for a chance to know his kids but he couldn’t move.

He had children, twins. And Aelin had been raising them alone because of him, because of what happened.

He was so fucking screwed.

He didn’t care about what Aelin told him, he wouldn’t go anywhere. It was too late to save what could have happened between him and Aelin, it had been too late since the night she left his apartment in tears. But it wasn’t too late for his children and he would fight for them.

————

@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @surielandiareendgame // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @loves-books // @fangirlprincess09 // @theysayitscrazy // @hellasblessed

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass fanfiction #rowaelin month #rowaelinmonth #slipped away

185 notes · View notes

arty-shadow-morningstar · 3 years

Text

Graveyard Siblings (5)

[Masterlink] (PART 1) (PART 4)

-----

Mari and Cass sometimes switch their suits as they have the same body type. Cass would sometimes go out in full Hellbat gear and give the appearance that Hellbat is out more often than she actually is.

So Orphan/Black Bat also sometimes uses guns.

This also helps with concealing secret identities. Maria was rescued by Hellbat from Joker’s Henchmen. (Vicki Vale was getting sus of the new Wayne and Hellbat.)

Unfortunately since Hellbat rarely comes out and she had already made all of her appearance for the month and it wasn’t a busy weekend, the public had come to the conclusion that Hellbat has a crush on the newest Wayne.

Basically everyone thought that Mari has a crush on herself. Which led to some teasing and escalated to Mari announcing that Jason had a crush on Red Hood on live TV.

It didn’t help that a video of Red Hood and Jason re-enacting Romeo and Juliet with Jason on his apartment balcony and Red Hood on the roof was posted on the internet a few days later. (Thank you, Trixx and Tim’s awesome video editing skills)

Sadly, it was taken down 24 hours later. (Tim and the others have multiple copies of it, on the cloud or hardware, hidden around in the manor and their respective safehouses in the US.)

Some people kidnapped Jason to hopefully gain leverage over the Red Hood and to their dismay and nightmares for years to come, Hellbat came instead.

One lucky and incredibly brave reporter asked why she was there instead of her brother.

Mari being a little shit, “Red Hood may be a tough and scary guy but when it comes to his feelings, my brother is a chicken.”

Pictures of Jason tackling Hellbat somehow never made it into any papers.

The criminal underworld hasn’t taken a hint and Jason has been kidnapped a few more times.

Other times Jason was kidnapped:

Robin: Red Hood made a fool of himself in front of Todd recently and he doesn’t dare to show his face.

Spoiler: He was taking too damn long checking his hair even though I told him that no one was going to see it under his helmet and he was so offended that he is currently sulking in the bathroom.

Red Robin: Red Hood can’t think straight when he is around Jason. I mean have you seen the dude.

Arsenal*during a rare visit to Gotham*: Red Hood owes me one now.

Dick finally ends it by going out as Red Hood and rescuing Jason. Gotham is happy that Redson (Red Hood x Jason) ship has finally sailed.

-------

Kate, Babs, Cass, Steph and Mari were out on Mari’s first girls’ night since her move to the manor.

This is set a little after she came back from Paris with Jason.

They watched rom-com movies, did hair and nails, gossip about the superhero community and bitch and vent to each other.

Marinette off-handedly mentioned the crazy shits she had done during her stint as Ladybug. It started with asking about the T-rex in the Batcave and she mentions jumping into the mouth of a live one before.

Everyone in the room was shocked and after a few more questions, it was obvious that she was very reckless and self-sacrificing. Yep, she was going to fit into this crazy family just fine.

And Holy Shit. There is so much trauma packed into this kid. She needs lots of therapy.

Babs finally decided that they all needed to get out and have some fun. All in their respective suits and they went out.

Joined by Harley, Ivy and Selina.

Plagg came along because I want Plagg to meet Selina.

It was a chaotic night and it was a miracle that Bruce didn’t find out about what the girls did.

-------

Batman and Red Hood were on patrol together when Selina jumped in front of them.

“Hello, Boys”

“What do you want, Catwoman?”

“I want to meet my new prodigy, Kitty Noire.”

Cue Marinette jumping down from her hiding spot, transformed with the Black Cat Miraculous. “Hiya.”

Red Hood carries her like a potato sack and points his gun at the other two.

“Nope, she’s my sister and I called dibs. I adopted her. She’s off limits.”

“Legally, she’s mine.” Batman coughed out.

“I did it first. Emotionally. She’s my emotional support sister. You have plenty kids already, B and Selina, get your own.”

“Hey, I am still here and can hear you.”- Maria

-------

Alya was worried for Lila. She had been acting weirdly for the past month.

She looked very out of sorts. Her clothes weren’t in order and her hair was in disarray. She had bags under her eyes and her eyes looked wild. Lila didn’t look like herself at all.

She jumped at any sound and flinched at really sudden movements.

Alya tried to find out what was wrong with Lila and received vague answers.

One time Lila said that Marinette is to blame.

Alya reaches the somewhat right conclusion that Marinette was haunting Lila and hurting her because Lila used to come to school with bruises and claims that Marinette did it.

Alya goes to Marinette’s grave to desecrate it. (Yeah, go anger the ghost that is haunting someone.)

Unfortunately, the moment she tries to do something, the sky turns dark, clouds appear and the wind begins whipping. A Lightning strike near her and there was a cloaked figure beside her with a scythe.

All Alya saw from the figure was the blood-red lips in a very sharp grin and glowing blue eyes, raising the scythe high before she ran away. The scythe swiped the air where her head once was.

Alya didn’t get far before she tripped and blacked out.

When she woke up, she found herself in the hospital with no idea how she got there.

She was told that somebody found her with a concussion in the park and took her to the hospital.

------

The next one on Mari’s hit list was Natalie.

She wasn’t as involved in the whole thing like Lila, Adrien or Gabriel but she still did it anyways.

Her punishment is a little mild compared to the others and was more of a warning to Gabriel.

Natalie woke up in the middle of the night to see a not-so-dead Ladybug sitting on her vanity chair with the moonlight from the windows illuminating her body and her neck. Her suit was torn exactly like the day of that battle with blood dripping down her arms and from her open wounds. The shadows kept her face hidden but glowing blue eyes stared at her.

Natalie was scared at first. But she regained her normal cool composure.

“I assume you are here to extract your revenge for aiding in your unfortunate demise. But before you kill me, I regret my part in my entire thing and I apologize for everything I have done against you even though I knew it was wrong.”

“At least you show remorse over what you have done. Visiting my grave when even my parents didn’t and leaving flowers. I love those purple hyacinths by the way. Did you know that they mean sorry in the language of the flowers?”

“Why are you stalling my death? Just kill me already.”

“Madam Sancouer. You just played a minor role in my downfall compared to what Adrien and Lila Rossi did to me. And you showed more guilt over your actions than they ever did and Adrien claimed to have loved me. And like I have told the Bats, Death is too swift of a punishment.”

“Who are the bats?”

“None of your concern. You should be more concerned about yourself.”

“Lila sees the ghosts of her past and they haunt her. Adrien is in a living nightmare and has no control over his actions and is despised by everyone. What are you going to do to me?”

“Well, since you show some guilt over your actions, let me tell you a little secret. I am not dead. Not really. I mean I did die. But there was a spell in the grimoire that revived me. It took a few days to work.”

Marinette changed to her normal form. It was a little jarring to see an older Marinette Dupain-Cheng sitting on her vanity chair like it was a throne. The Ladybug suit and the wounds were gone. She looked a little familiar.

“Why are you telling me this? What was the point?” Natalie faltered as she wondered why the girl looked familiar. Marinette moved closer and her face was fully illuminated by the moonlight.

“I intend to take everything by which I mean everything from Gabriel Agreste for what he did.”

“M. Agreste just wanted his wife back. You just gave him your Miraculous, you would still have everything.”

“What difference would it make? Sure I had friends and family before but they turned out to be disappointing. I might have become a famous designer like I dreamed of and can't achieve because I died. Besides, he never said about wanting his wife to come back in his tedious monologues. For all we knew back then, he wanted them for world domination. He showed that he would end the world for them. For kwamis’ sake, he nearly started World War III, just for a pair of earring and a ring. He was willing to kill me to have her back. No wait, he did that too. If he actually read the translated grimoire or asked the Guardian or at least someone with magic for help instead or maybe used his head and made some who can heal as his champion using the Butterfly, we wouldn’t even be in this mess. Face it, Mme Sancour, your boss is a power-hungry and very controlling maniac who is also thankfully an idiot.”

“But- he- he just-. You are just a child, what do you know? M. Agreste knew what he was doing.”

“A child who had a normal life up until he tried to ruin it with his idiotic schemes and hiring Lila to do it. A child who had to fight a war on her own.”

“I am sorry you had to go through that but I doubt you and your little revenge rampage is going to solve anything.”

Ghostly Chains wrapped around Natalie’s body, squeezing tight like it was squeezing the life out of her.

“I was all for sparing you, you know. If you had actually listened to my side of the story, you would have spared from my ‘little revenge rampage’. This is going to be a little painful. Sorry about that.” In a tone that was definitely not sorry.

Pain coursed through Natalie’s body. Her skin crawled and itched as pitch back feathers grew out of it. Her bones turned to dust and reformed.

Where Natalie Sancour once was, there was a raven.

An omen of death and destruction for one Gabriel Agreste.

Marinette leaned down towards the raven. Natalie tried to peck her eye out but Marinette held the beak in a firm grip.

“Ah. ah ah. Luckily for you this is temporary. Mostly. Every night, you will assume this shape and each night the longer you will stay in this form. Slowly counting down the days until Gabriel’s downfall. Since you love helping him so much, you are going to help him know how long he has to live. The night you are a raven from sunset to sunrise, that sunrise starts the day Gabriel Agreste will be utterly destroyed.”

She released the beak and headed towards the window.

"Send him my regards."

With that, she was gone.

(Part 6)

#platonic jasonette #graveyard siblings #maribat #ml x dc #marinette meets the sirens

375 notes · View notes

toomanystoriessolittletime · 3 years

Text

late night calls

Summary: It all started with a phone call to the DEA office to tell Javier about the surgery of his father. You had insisted to take care of him after Chucho told you about the surgery. That you would fall in love with his son you had never met before? Just as surprising to you as it was to Javier.

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Plus size reader

Wordcount: 4.1k+

Warnings: fluff, phone sex, mentions of bomb attacks, sexism, self doubt, yearning?

A/N: I know that probably more time passed between the bombing and Javier being send back to the states but I chose to ignore it. For the plot. Hope you enjoy it :)

Masterlist

*taglist in reblog

You still weren’t used to the heat. Yes, you did move to Texas because you wanted a fresh start. But the fucking heat would take some time to get used to. Nothing was holding you back in Maine. You had spent the last years taking care of your sick mother. She had died just before Christmas and with her all the family you had left.

So coming with the new year you took a leap of faith, packed your things, and moved to a little town close to the Mexican border. You got a job at the local police station as a secretary that made a decent sum of money each month. Life was good. At least you told yourself so.

You had made a couple of friends. Mostly the older generation of the town. You weren’t big on going out, nor had the town a big nightlife in the first place. That’s why you insisted on taking care of Chucho after he told you one day at the diner that he had to get a hip replacement. His wife had died a long time ago and his son wasn’t able to leave work.

“Don’t you have some better stuff to do cariño?” He had asked.

“What better way to start your day than on your Farm, Senior Peña.” You had winked at him.

Chucho might have been a stubborn old man, but once he got out of surgery and was in pain he was thankful that he accepted your help. That was also the first time you heard him talk about his son. Javier.

“Be a dear and call him to tell him I’m okay?” He had mumbled before he dozed off again. You had chuckled, kissed his cheek before you left him for the day to went over to his farm. Once you had taken care of everything for the day you sat down on his kitchen island and grabbed the phone, dialing the first number he had written down.

You had suggested moving into his place in his recovery time. It was a beautiful place. Mexico was just on the other side of the river down the property. But the best part about this place was the air conditioning. Okay… You really loved this place and it definitely was an upgrade to the small apartment you were renting in the city.

Waiting for his son to pick up the phone you wondered what kind of job he would have that he wasn’t able to take care of his father. You didn’t judge him, okay maybe a little, you were more curious. You had seen some pictures of him spread through the house. But you had never asked about him.

“DEA Office, how may I help you?” A woman answered your call.

“Uhm… Is Javier Peña available? It’s about his father,” you tried.

“Oh of course. Agent Peña just got in. Please hold.”

Agent Peña? DEA? You had so many questions but they died on your tongue when the call connected again.

“This is Peña.” A deep voice said. He reminded you of his father.

“Hello Mr. Peña. I’m only calling to let you know that your father’s surgery went fine. He wanted me to forward this to you.”

“Javier, please. Not even my father likes to be called Mr. Peña.”

“Oh I noticed that,” you chuckled.

“He’s fine yeah?” You heard something shuffle on the other end of the line.

“Yeah. Already made some jokes and told me to make sure I feed the horses in the right order.”

“You’re taking care of the horses?”

“Yeah. I’m temporarily moving in to help your father.”

“That’s very nice of you. He never told me about you.”

“There’s not much to tell.” You got up and took out a bottle of water from the fridge. “I’m only here for the air conditioning.” You joked. He laughed.

“Fuck I miss air conditioning. Hold on.” You sat down again, hearing only damp voices.

“Fuck. I need to go. Please call me if something comes up. Dad has my home number too, right?” He was speaking quickly and you wondered what was happening.

“Yes, he wrote it down for me. Everything okay?”

“Yeah hopefully. Just some work stuff. Keep in touch, yeah?”

“Will do Javier.”

Chucho got home a week later and he was the worst at listening to doctors’ orders. You still had to go into the station to work, but you spend your whole time worrying about him. It was funny to you how he seemingly had become a father figure to you in less than a couple of weeks.

Of course you found him standing at the kitchen counter when you got to the ranch, the phone tugged between his shoulder and his ear, making himself a sandwich.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” You asked, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“I was. Then Javi called and I got hungry.”

“Stubborn old man,” you grumbled and he rolled his eyes.

“Come on, I brought dinner.”

“Fine. Here. Javi wants to say Hello,” he handed you the phone before he slowly trotted towards the couch. Shaking your head you put the phone to your ear.

“You are really strict with him,” Javier said.

“Someone has to. Are all you Peña men this stubborn?”

He chuckled. “You have no idea. How is he doing?”

“Overall good. Not complaining as much as in the beginning but then again I am bribing him with my delicious cooking.”

Javier and you had spoken to each other at least two times per week since the first time you called to tell him about his father’s surgery. You learned that he was a DEA agent on the hunt for Pablo Escobar. You learned that he was feeling guilty about not being there for his father and to take care of the ranch. You learned lots of things about Javier Peña.

“Ah... Delicious cooking. Maybe one day you get to cook for me?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You teased, hearing him take a sip of his drink. Whiskey probably.

“Just that my father is praising your cooking so much I wonder if it really is that good.”

“Oh, it is, Peña.” You found yourself smiling. You heard him sigh.

“Everything’s okay over there?” You asked.

“Yeah,” he said too quickly. Definitely a lie. You nodded.

“You wanna stay on the phone while I prepare dinner?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

The better Chucho got, the longer the phone calls between Javier and you seem to get. It was mostly at night after he got home from whatever he had been doing at work that day intending to check in on his father. But after a few sentences, he asked about your day. About how you felt. What your plans for the coming weekend were.

“You sound exhausted Hermosa,” he sighed. It had been a long day at work and all you wanted was to grab a pint of ice cream and drown your sorrows.

“Just the usual sexist bullshit at the PD,” you groaned.

“Want me to kill them?” Javier joked.

“You take care of your nemesis, I take care of mine. But I appreciate the help.” You sat down on your bed, knowing that this was usually the room he occupied when he was here to visit his father.

“Noted. But if it’s any help, I had a shit day too. They seem to get more frequent the longer I stay in this shithole.”

“Maybe you have to focus on the good things of being in this country. There have to be some. The food probably. I always enjoy new food. Maybe go to a museum? I don’t want to intrude but you don’t seem like you do anything besides work and well…”

It was pure accident that you had heard the voice of a woman one night when you had called him for a change. You knew that he looked good, you had seen the pictures, so it shouldn’t be a surprise to you, that he did have a girlfriend. He clarified that he didn’t, that this was just a woman he got intel from. You didn’t ask any more questions, it wasn’t your right. That it hurt to think of him and another woman was something you chose to ignore.

“I never thanked you,” Javier said. You let yourself fall back into bed, staring at the stars outside the window.

“What for?” you asked quietly.

“Thanking care of Dad and the ranch. Listening to my drunken ramblings. You’re a good friend,” he said. You smiled, a warm feeling spreading in your chest.

“You’re a good friend too, Javi.”

Chucho didn’t need anyone to take care of him. Not when he was back to his old health after a couple of months. But he had asked you to move in with him anyway. And you loved to live with the old man. Enjoying not being on your own all the time. And you loved helping him out at the ranch. The PD was still getting on your nerves and you were seriously considering just quitting.

“I hate it. I fucking hate it. I get one dumb line after another, just because I’m a woman. That I helped to get together the evidence to put that fucker away that killed all those women last year is not even of interest. FUCK!” you complained to Chucho. He knew about all of this already. Yet he jumped from his seat when he saw that you did cut yourself while making dinner.

“Careful.” He took your hand in his, leading you over to the sink to look at your wound. It didn’t hurt that much.

“What about if I take care of dinner today, and you go and take a bath? Javier is probably gonna call in a bit…” Chucho winked, putting a bandaid on your finger.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you frowned.

“Just that I see the way you smile every time my son calls.”

“Two whole days off? What are you gonna do with yourself?” You joked. You were laying in the bathtub, the phone in your hand as you talked to Javier.

“Don’t know. I feel like I need a home-cooked meal so I’m gonna nag Connie to cook one.”

You chuckled, crossing your legs.

“Is that water I hear?” he asked and you blushed. Why? You didn’t know. You had undressed numerous times while on the phone with him, but being completely naked and him knowing about it…

“I’m in the bathtub. Chucho’s orders. He’s making dinner before I kill myself doing it.”

You were met with silence.

“You okay, Javi?” You sucked your bottom lip in. “I did only cut my finger,” you joked.

“Just trying to get the picture of you naked in the bathtub out of my head.”

“You don’t even know what I look like.”

“Doesn’t matter. All I need is to hear your voice and I’m hard…”

“Javi…” you whispered, feeling hot all of the sudden.

“Will you tell me?” he asked.

“Tell you what?”

“If you think about me? Because you are on my mind all the time. I keep picturing how you look. If you have long hair or short hair. What color your eyes have. If your smile is only half as beautiful as your laugh. Fuck… I just wanna see you. I wanna feel you. I wanna taste you Hermosa.”

Unintentionally your unoccupied hand had made its way down your body, your breath coming in short pants.

“Keep talking Javier…” you whispered, your hand slipping in between your legs.

“I want to touch you. Fuck I bet your skin is so soft. I’d worship you. I stay up at night wondering if I could fit your boobs in my hands. What sound you would make when I close my mouth around your nipple…”

“Shit Javi…” You moaned.

“I wonder how you taste. Are you wet for me baby?” he asked and you heard a zipper being undone on his end of the line.

“So wet. You always make me wet. I touch myself when we get off the phone, wondering how it would feel to have you here…” you whimpered.

“I would have fucked you on every flat surface in the house if I was there. The thought of you sleeping in my bed is making me lose my mind.”

You circled your clit with your fingers, a low moan coming from your lips.

“I wonder how you feel wrapped around my cock. I wonder how you sound when I make you cum. I want to hear it so badly…” You were sure he was fucking his hand and you whimpered at the thought.

“I wish it was my hand wrapped around your big cock right now. God, I wish it was your hand between my legs and not mine…” You bit your lips, keeping yourself quiet.

“Put two fingers into that cunt and make yourself cum. I wanna hear you…” he groaned on the phone.

“Fuck Javi…” you cried quietly, two fingers inside your cunt. “I wish it was your cock and not my fingers.”

“Me too… Me too babe.” he moaned. “Circle that clit for me. Cum for me.”

Circling your clit you almost let the phone fall into the tub when you came with a low moan. You heard him cry out your name on the other end of the line before all that was heard was both of your heavy breathing.

“Javi…?” you asked after a while, still high from one of the best orgasms you ever had. You heard the familiar sound of him lighting a cigarette.

“I meant every single word Hermosa. I want you.” You never thought you would hear these words from him or any man for that matter. You weren’t a typical beauty. You weren’t skinny, you loved food and your curves showed it. On most days you were happy with the way you looked. But you also knew how Javier looked. He was an attractive man and you knew he did indeed have a new woman every other night if he felt like it. He might be interested now, but once he would meet you, there was no way he would make true to all the things he said.

“You’re quiet.” he noticed.

“Yeah. Just coming down from the best orgasm I’ve had in a while,” you joked and he sighed.

“I might not see you, but I know that you’re lying.”

“Okay, it was the best orgasm I ever had.”

“Hermosa…”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Just let me enjoy the illusion of a handsome DEA Agent being interested in little ol’ me.”

“I’ll make sure you believe that it isn’t an illusion until we do see each other.”

Months went by and by now you were pretty sure you were in love with Javier Peña. The phone bill was taking dimensions you were almost guilty about, but Chucho only smiled not taking your money, telling you to make his boy happy. Safe to say he approved.

You had told him about your insecurities and Javier made sure to tell you every time you talked to each other that it didn’t matter how you looked. He told you that you could be green and he’d still go down on you the first time he would meet you.

And you wanted to believe him, you really did. You had told him how you looked after he tried to talk you into sending pictures of yourself “with or without clothes, I don’t care. Though you can guess what I prefer.” he had teased. Javier never made a secret about how much he liked you. Enjoyed talking to you. He told you he had stopped sleeping around for god’s sake.

He was supposed to visit his father in a couple of weeks and the more time passed, the more nervous you became. You didn’t doubt that he meant every single word he said to you. It was years of being on the receiving end of jokes and being the ugly friend that automatically let you feel like you weren’t good enough.

The worst part was that you knew, deep down, that you were beautiful. You loved how you looked. But there still was this voice inside your head, telling you that you would never be good enough for anyone. That there was no way someone would ever fall in love with you.

It was a typical morning at work. You had your coffee and all the files you had to update. Javier had talked to you until you fell asleep, telling you that he felt like he was failing in taking Escobar down. He didn’t tell you much, not wanting you to worry or to risk someone listening, but you could tell that he was exhausted. “I fucked up, Hermosa. I really fucked up and I have no idea how to fix this,” were the words that he had whispered to you in the middle of the night.

You didn’t ask what he meant, just telling him that you’d be there for him, no matter what.

Typing as usual you stopped as the song on the radio was, interrupted by a news report of a bombing in Bogota, Colombia. You knew that there were bombings all the time over there, and Javier always assured you that he was perfectly fine. But with how he was last night, you had a bad feeling.

“Fuck. When are they going to stop that shit over there? If I was there I’d caught Escobar years ago,” one of the officers said. You closed your eyes, breathing in deeply.

“Isn’t Chucho’s son over there pretty face?” The officer stopped in front of your desk and you opened your eyes.

“Yeah he is,” you said.

“Maybe if he would know how to do his job, shit like that wouldn’t go down like that,” he grinned and you wanted to stop, but your hand was faster. Slapping his cheek you got off your seat.

“And maybe if you would know how to use your dick your wife wouldn’t fuck your colleague over there, but you’ll never know, right?” You grinned, picking your purse and walking out.

“I’m taking today off.” You yelled over your shoulder as you walked to your car.

Javier didn’t pick up the phone. Which wasn’t what concerned you on the first day. He would have to deal with the shit that had happened over there. But when three days passed and you could see Chucho getting nervous as well you became restless. The ranch had never been so spotless. The horses had been fed in record time, and you took long rides along the river. If something had happened to him someone would have called, right? You couldn’t even reach his partner Murphy who you had talked to occasionally when Javier wasn’t at his desk.

When a week passed and you hadn’t heard anything you were close to making your way to the airport to just fly down there. What if he died? What if he was gone and you hadn’t told him that you loved him? That you fell in love with a man you had never met before? Getting off the horse you sat down at the tree closest to the river. It was quiet here. This was the outer area of Chucho’s ranch, your favorite spot. You had joked about building a house here once when you were out with the old man and he had agreed that it would be the perfect spot. Sighing you drank from the bottle of water you brought.

Where the fuck are you Javier?

Another week went by without any sign of life from him. You had called the DEA office again but no one seemed to be able to give you an answer. You were growing restless. Working seemed to be the only thing that could get you off the spiraling thoughts of what if? You really had it bad for the man. Shaking your head to yourself you sighed as you parked your car on the usual spot in front of the ranch. Chucho’s truck was gone, he had a doctor's appointment to check on his hip and would meet his lady friend for dinner afterward. You had met her, Estella, once. She was a beautiful woman and Chucho seemed very happy with her. With a sad smile you killed the engine, getting out of the car. On your way to the house you groaned, turning around because you forgot your take out. You weren’t in the mood to cook and the pizza from that place that Javier had told you about was the best you had ever had. While you opened the passenger door of your car you heard the front door of the house open.

Shit. Burglars? You didn’t have anything on you, you could use as a gun. You knew you could probably make it to the horse stable to find something, but not in these fucking heels. Why did you wear these fucking heels? Maybe you could make them choke on the pizza? But then again you were looking forward to eating it.

“Just take what you want, I won’t look.” You called over your shoulder, hoping to just be spared for the day. Closing your eyes you sighed when you were met with no reaction. You heard footsteps on the porch that stopped.

“Look, I’m really not in the mood for this bullshit today. So either take whatever the fuck you want or kill me….” you turned around and all the words died on your lips.

Standing there, leaning against the porch was no other than Javier fucking Peña. Alive. And looking even better than on the various pictures hanging in the house. He was bare feet, wearing tight jeans and a green shirt that was half undone. Opening your mouth to talk, all that came out was a gasp. He looked at you, his eyes mirroring the million emotions inside of you. Looking down at yourself you felt shy all of the sudden. This isn’t how you imagined meeting him for the first time. You wanted to be pretty. To wear some spanx. To have some make-up on. Closing your eyes you breathed in deep. You were happy to see him, you really were. But the ride of emotions you had gone through in the last couple of days took hold of you. Walking quickly towards him, you pushed against his chest, the air leaving his lungs in a puff.

“You fucking idiot. I thought you died.” You pushed him again.

“Do you have any idea how awful I felt since I heard the news of the bombing? You…” You pushed against his chest again, but this time he was faster, grabbing your wrists as he looked down at you. You felt the tears in your eyes as you finally looked up at him. Almost a year of phone calls and now he was standing here in front of you. Alive and warm. And smelling so fucking good.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, holding both of your wrists against his chest as he looked at you.

“I should have called but I told you I fucked up. Badly. And I had to fix it and…” he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now. I’m here and fuck… you’re even more beautiful than I pictured you,” he smiled a little.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” You huffed, still annoyed.

“No?” he asked teasingly, smirking at you as he leaned down. You shook your head, biting your lip. God, you wanted to kiss him.

“Can I at least try?” he asked, his lips brushing over your temple. You swallowed, shivering when you felt his cheek against yours. Fuck. Why did he smell so good?

“You may try, but I’m really, really mad at you Javier.”

You closed your eyes when he released your wrists and put one of his hands on your back to push you closer against him. He kissed your cheek before he straightened to his full height and looked down at you, his other hand coming to rest on your cheek.

“You’re really sexy when you’re angry,” he teased before he leaned down to kiss you. You melted against him, your hands running up his chest, holding on to the back of his neck as one hand ran through his hair, to pull him down. Kissing him didn’t come close to anything you could have imagined, his tongue parting your lips and you couldn’t help the moan against his lips.

“Still angry?” he whispered out of breath against your lips.

“Slightly less angry,” you whispered back before you found yourself in his arms as he carried you into the house.

#my writing #Javier Peña #Javier Pena x reader #Javier Pena x you #pedro pascal #javier pena x plus size reader #fanfic #fanfiction

483 notes · View notes

doctorstethoscope · 3 years

Text

The Right Chapter 21 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Helloooooo my friends!!! You are going to love this one. I am so excited to hear what you think about it. Hold on to the fluff my loves.

Read previous chapters of this fic here!

warnings: food mention, alcohol consumption, discussion of pregnancy (not reader), mild sexual content

wordcount: 1.9k

“Okay, be honest. How many nights have you actually spent here since you moved in?” Emily asked, perched on the couch in your apartment, a glass of wine in her hand, a few empty bottles scattered between you, her, JJ and Garcia throughout your living room.

“That’s not fair! We spend way more nights out on cases than I do at Aaron’s place,” you laughed from across the living room in a lounge chair.

“You know that’s not what she meant, peach.” Garcia chastises you, and JJ lets out a snort.

“It doesn’t matter. Her non-answer is answer enough,” she points out, and you all laugh together.

“It’s a good thing,” Garcia reminds you.

“Oh, absolutely,” Emily concurs. “We’re all glad you finally figured it out. I didn’t know how much longer I was going to be able to stand you making googly-eyes at him during active hostage situations.”

“I did not!” You defended yourself with a smile, hiding your grin behind your fourth-- or was it your fifth?--- glass of wine.

“You weren’t that bad. That’s not to say you were good at hiding it, because you weren’t,” JJ assures you. “But you held it together in the field.”

“See, guys? And JJ’s sober.” You reminded the group.

“Are you sure you don’t want a glass?” Garcia offered her.

“No, I’m alright,” JJ denied. “Actually, I offered to drive because…. Will and I are expecting!” She announces, and your faces all light up in unison.

“Jayje!” Emily squeals, practically diving across the couch to wrap her friend in a hug. Penelope is right behind her, and you all take a moment to fuss over her and feel her non-existent bump before settling back into your own seats.

“Oh, that means you and Hotch are next!” Garcia asserts drunkenly, and you tense, although you doubt any of the ladies noticed.

“You think you’d want that? Kids, I mean?” Emily asks you, reclining back in her chair.

“I don’t really know what Aaron wants,” you shrug the question off, averting your gaze to your wine glass.

“That’s not what we asked,” JJ redirects you, apparently unwilling to accept a non-answer this time around. “What do you want?”

“With Aaron? More kids, definitely more.” You confess. “But Aaron’s older than I am. I don’t know if he feels like he’s done with that part of his life, you know?”

“There’s no way. He loves Jack more than anything.” Emily concludes. “He seems like the type of guy who’d love to keep you barefoot and pregnant, even if it’s only because he’d get to pull you out of the field and keep you safe at home.”

You let out a real laugh at Emily’s assertion. “Well, if he ever asks me about it, I’ll be sure to include that in my supporting arguments.”

“Trust me-- they never feel done with being a dad. How do you think Will and I ended up with baby number two?” JJ reminds you with a wink.

“Oh, you guys would just have the cutest babies. That dark Hotchner hair and your pretty eyes!” Garcia gushes, her lower lip starting to quiver.

“Okay, and that’s my cue to get her home,” JJ chuckles, rising from her place on the couch. “Drink some water before you go to bed, okay? And maybe eat something, and take some advil?”

“Okay, mom,” you rolled your eyes, standing up and giving your friends hugs goodbye as you said goodnight.

“Hey, someday you’ll understand,” JJ tells you. “It will be sooner than you think, I’d bet.” She winks, and you roll your eyes at her again, smiling as you walked the three of them to the door.

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

“We’re going on a date tonight,” Aaron tells you as the two of you leave the office a few nights later. “Jess agreed to take Jack.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “Am I forgetting something?”

“Only that I love you, and as your boyfriend I reserve the right to take you out whenever I please,” He smirks, placing a hand on your back as he opens the door and helps you into the car.

You roll your eyes, but you’re not quick enough to come up with some smart-ass comment, so you let him have the win as he drives you both home.

“Should I wear something specific?” You ask as the two of you walk into the house together.

“We’re gonna walk downtown a little, so something comfortable,” he advises. “Do you need to do anything other than change, or are you basically ready to go?”

“I could use ten minutes to freshen up,” you tell him, and he nods with a smile.

“Take your time, we’re not in any rush,” he says, kissing your temple and moving into the bedroom to change into something more comfortable as you step into the bathroom, adjusting your hair and makeup just a tad. When you come back into the bedroom, Aaron’s switched into jeans, so you do the same. You go to fish your wallet out of your work bag, and Aaron slaps at your wrist lightly.

“Stop it. You don’t need that,” he tells you, and you roll your eyes with a playful smile.

“You’re a neanderthal,” You tease him, letting him guide you out of the house and back towards the car.

“No, I was raised right,” Aaron corrects you.

“What if I want a drink and I get carded?” You smirked as you buckled your seatbelt. You were younger than Aaron, yes, but not by that much.

“If you get denied because you don’t have an ID on you, I’ll stop at the gas station on our way home and buy you a six pack of bud light.” He assures you as he backs out of the parking lot.

“So romantic,” you cooed overdramatically, tossing your head back with a laugh. Aaron takes advantage of the opportunity to lean over the console and press a quick kiss to your jawline.

A few moments later, Aaron parks the car in front of a greasy spoon downtown that you’d never been to before, and you give him an inquisitive look. It’s not that you minded at all-- any time you spent with Aaron was perfect in every way. But his dates were usually a lot higher-key.

“I’ve got to keep you on your toes,” he shrugged with a boyish grin as he took your hand in his on the sidewalk and walked you into the restaurant. He let go reluctantly as the two of you slid into opposite sides of a booth.

“So, it’s safe to assume that there’s more to tonight’s date than burgers and milkshakes?” You ask Aaron after the two of you have placed your orders.

“Oh, absolutely,” Aaron nods, smiling smugly.

“And are you going to tell me what that might be?” You asked hopefully.

“Absolutely not,” Aaron confirmed what you had already suspected.

“Not even a hint?” You asked.

“You’ll find out in due time. Be patient, princess,” he encourages you.

“I’m willing to beg,” you informed him. You were sure that whatever he had planned would be romantic and wonderful, but god did you want to know.

“Darling, I’d really prefer if you saved that for our bedroom,” Aaron deadpanned, and you choked on your water.

“Agent Hotchner!” You chastised, catching your breath.

“Come on, now you’re just teasing me,” he winked, and you felt butterflies in your stomach.

“Well, is it working?” You asked, wondering if you could flirt your way into some intel.

“Not a chance,” he admonished you playfully as the waitress sat your meals down in front of you.

After dinner, Aaron took your hand back in his and led you out of the restaurant. You started to head off towards the car, but he stopped you.

“You did want to see what else I had planned, didn’t you?” He asks, facetiously.

“Yes please,” you smiled shyly.

“Take a walk with me,” Aaron says, tugging you back into him so he can wrap his arm around you. It takes a couple of paces for him to find his metaphorical footing, but after a moment, he speaks up again. “I haven’t been clear with you about what my intentions are, and I wanted to apologize for that.”

“Aaron, you don’t have to--” you start, but he cuts you off.

“Let me, first, please?” Aaron asks of you, looking you in the eyes, and you nod, giving him permission to continue. “I haven’t explained to you exactly how I feel, and because I didn’t do that, you’re having to worry about silly things, like whether or not you have the same amount of experience I do, or whether or not I’m going to run off with Jack’s teacher or one of his friends moms.”

“Well, I’m less worried about Rhonda now that I’ve met her wife. But Ms. Meadows is still on my watch list.” You tell him, and he chuckles, taking your hand in his and kissing the back of it as he takes you down a side street.

“Darling, you’ve got nothing to worry about. That’s what I needed to tell you. I’m all in, sweetheart. You, me, Jack, and anyone else we might add to our family-- that’s all I want. That’s my priority.” He tells you, and your breath catches. “So, I got you a little something, just to show you how serious I am,” He says, leading you into a jewelry store. You stop in the doorway.

“Aaron Hotchner, please tell me you’re not proposing at the jewelers.” You whisper out, not wanting to cause a scene. You would have said yes, regardless, but you were struck by a little bit of shock.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “No, dear. Come on in, and I’ll show you,” He takes your hand again, and you step into the jewelry store with trepidation. The man behind the counter seems to recognize Aaron, as he produces a bag from the back counter once they make eye contact. Aaron passes the bag to you, and you push through the pink tissue paper to uncover a box, in which you find a single diamond solitaire pendant.

“Aaron,” you start breathlessly, but he’s already taking the necklace out of your hands and maneuvering the clasp around your neck.

“This is just a placeholder, until you’re ready for the real thing,” Aaron whispers, pressing a kiss behind your ear once the necklace is secure. “But since we’re here, would you want to try a few on? So I know what you like? You’re not allowed to take the real one off, once it’s on. So I want you to be happy with it.”

You’re sure that you’re dreaming your way through the rest of the evening. You try on what feels like every ring in the store, including the ones you insist are too expensive, but Aaron refuses to listen. You’re practically floating on air during the walk back to the car, and you let out a sigh as you settle into the passenger seat.

“I know I said you weren’t allowed to take the ring off, and I meant it,” Aaron tells you. “But if you’re not ready to start thinking that way, I understand. This is at your pace. You just let me know, and I’ll pump the breaks.”

You practically launch yourself across the center console, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. “Does this thing go any faster, actually?” You ask, and he laughs as he kisses you again.

tagging: @romanogersendgame @wanniiieeee @zheezs14 @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13 @baumarvel @ssamorganhotchner @ijustwannaread2k19 @rexit-mo @shmaptainhotchnersmain @qtip-blog @averyhotchner @the-modernmary @itsmytimetoodream @choppa-style @hotforhotchner11 @infinite-tides @isthatme-thatsme @g-l-pierce @bakugouswh0r3 @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic

126 notes · View notes

peralta-guaranteed · 3 years

Note

After that Jake-Mac-Rosa fic, you dropped this queen: 👑 Next time, a Jake-Mac-Holt piece?

Oh dang, THAT's where I left it. Thank you for that. 🤪

Grandpa Holt is always a pleasure to write, but let's try for some Dad Holt too...

"Is everything alright, Peralta?"

Jake has been sitting off to the side of the group for a while now, so Holt finds it necessary to inquire. He's not used to the eager detective being so closed off and quiet unless something is wrong, and nothing he can think of right now strikes him as 'wrong': they have been celebrating the end of a rather arduous case for Diaz and Boyle, and Peralta had been as helpful as he could be as a tertiary, which was not his preferred position at all. The first round at Shaw's had been paid by himself as Captain, obviously, and the next by Diaz, so Boyle has promised to shoulder the third, were it to happen. Ergo Peralta could not be thinking about his usual money problems, which have lessened anyway ever since Santiago took over his budgeting.

That means something else entirely must be 'wrong' in order for Jake to keep out of the conversation, only reply when he is mentioned by name, and drift off to a corner of the bar while the other congregate around the various game options of the room.

"I'm good, Captain, thanks." Jake answers with a smile and an obvious lie, so Holt doesn't even bother replying, just raises one of his eyebrows a quarter of an inch, which he knows usually gets him results with Peralta. The ensuing sigh shows that it is still working.

"It's just..." Jake shrugs and rubs the back of his neck, another tell of his discomfort. "This is my first night out alone since the baby."

"Indeed." Holt replies. "I remember your phone call to Amy to inform her you would be back late today."

"Yeah." His hand is still on his neck, the other one clutched around his half empty beer bottle. "She told me to have fun. But..uh... I still kinda feel like I shouldn't be here."

"Do you think having a child robs you of autonomity? I know I am not speaking from experience, here, but it does seem to me like you are allowed to enjoy time away from your family, especially if your spouse insists you do."

"Getting drunk at a bar while my kid might be crying at home doesn't feel like the responsible thing to do, is all."

"Ah, I see." Holt nods, and he does see - he actually sees a lot more than what Jake might be trying to imply in his statement. He remembers how he used to self-medicate with alcohol in the past, after ending his relationship with that defense attorney, or even before, while feeling heartbroken over Santiago. He also remembers anecdotes about his father's drinking, not from Peralta himself, obviously, but from the rest of the squad, whenever Jake would cancel on a promised night out after Roger Peralta's visits. As much as Holt hates idioms, one of his most despised is probably 'the apple doesn't fall far from the tree', and Jake seems to fear it as well.

"Here is my solution, then, if you are willing to listen." Jake looks up at Holt as he's standing in front of him, and his hand drops from his neck. "You make the beer you are currently drinking your last for the night, and spend some quality time with your colleagues instead, enjoying a few parlour games, and then you head home at an agreeable time and still see your child before he falls asleep."

Jake grins and takes a sip of his beer.

"Sounds like a plan, Cap." He nods, and Holt doesn't ignore the fact that Jake has been using this shortened nickname for him a lot lately, and how eerily similar it sounds to 'Dad' in his voice.

(An hour later, he receives a picture on his cellphone from Peralta: The man himself, asleep on his couch, with his infant son equally asleep on his chest. Santiago must have commandeered his phone, and Holt is glad for it.)

-*-

"Grampa!"

The sound of that little voice echoes through the hallway as loudly as the ensuing footsteps, and Holt feels something warm and solid wrap around his legs.

"Hello, McClane." He smiles down at the little boy currently clutching his knees, and he smiles back before raising his arms in an obvious demand to be lifted up. Holt obeys it immediately.

He notices Mac looks surprisingly tired for an otherwise very energetic two year old, and Amy, who's now following him to Holt's side, looks equally exhausted.

"Good afternoon, Captain. I'm so sorry, I should've messaged you that I have to bring Mac in for an hour, the babysitter cancelled and the day care couldn't keep him longer than-"

"It is quite alright, Santiago. McClane knows how to behave himself at the precinct, right?" He gives the little boy in his arms a look, and receives a strong and eager nod in reply, the curls on his head bouncing back and forth. If anyone were ever to question Peralta's parentage, that alone would classify them as an imbecile. "I can watch him for the time being, if you have paperwork you need to get in order before leaving for the day."

"God, Captain Holt, would you- that would be so- I was going to ask Rosa, because I know she's at her desk-"

Amy seems far more frazzled than usual, and Holt realises that her regular schedule must be in quite a disarray, considering she has been a single parent for about a week now. Mac must not have been making it easy for her, either, nor must the baby currently growing in her stomach, which has started to show about a month ago, at which point they finally informed the squad about it (when everyone had already figured it out just like last time).

"RoRo!" Mac yells, happily, almost leaning out of Holt's arms, but he quickly hugs him tighter.

"Your aunt Rosa is working, McClane, and we should not interrupt her. We can spend the time in my office, and you can draw if you would like."

"Roro working." He echoes like a little parrot. "Like Daddy."

"That's right." Holt has learned from the parenting homepages he's visited that you are to encourage a child trying to talk and string together a coherent topic, no matter how long it might take.

"Daddy's working away." Mac continues, and out of the corner of his eye Holt sees Amy's forehead wrinkle in worry.

"Yes, your father is in New Jersey for the week to work on a special case." It's not a dangerous case at all, rather a boring standard task that happened to involve some out-of-state suspects, but Jake had still been trying to hand off that trip to anyone who might be willing to help him out. Seeing his son with bags under his eyes and his wife with stresslines around her mouth and her hand on her belly, Holt understands why.

"He comes back." Mac says next, and it is a statement, but the look in his eyes makes it a question, and Holt is quick to answer. He's glad that he has a definite answer to that, instead of the empty promises and assurances he sometimes has to make as the head of a police department.

"Yes, your father will be back soon. In two days, in fact."

Mac holds up two grubby little fingers, and Holt nods with so much fervor it surprises himself.

"Very good, that is two. Only two days and two nights until your father is back home." The worry in Mac's eyes seems to dimish a little at that as he stares at his own fingers. "If we go to my office, we can check on the calendar exactly how long that is." He barely waits for another nod before taking the diaper bag out of Santiago's hands, who whispers a quiet, but relieved "Thank you" to him. He understands again that it means far more than to thank him for taking care of the child for an hour so.

(If he uses that hour to assure Mac several times that no matter what, his father will always find a way back to him with far more emotion in his voice than he'd usually use, well, no one needs to know. Peralta certainly seems happy about the picture he sends him of Mac with his captain's hat behind his desk.)

-*-

"Congratulations." Holt's hand on his shoulder is heavy, but not uncomfortably so, and it gives a quick squeeze before dropping.

They've done the whole customary introduction to the newborn baby, the apparently necessary picture round, and now Kevin is having an amicable chat with Amy in her hospital bed. They've waited two days for their official visit, to give the new parents a chance to get at least a few of their bearings. (Holt was there merely an hour after the birth, of course, with the rest of the squad, but that was a moment of joyful chaos and many voices.) Now the room is filled with an almost serene quiet, Amy's and Kevin's voices low and comfortable in the background as Holt watches the man he truly considers a son hold up his new granddaughter.

"Do you want to hold her again? I know you already did for the photos but-"

Holt only nods and takes the infant out of his hands with perfect ease. He's more used to a wriggling toddler now, but he still clearly remembers the days when Mac was equally quiet and frail in his arms. The little one in them now is asleep amidst all that is happening, her tiny mouth open just a fraction, and he feels her arm bump against his chest while she seems to be having a dream.

"She is as perfect as her older brother, Jake."

"Yeah." Jake smiles, and there's nothing of that boisterous, loud, cocky detective grin left in it that he used to know. It is soft and kind and full of love, and it might be one of Holt's favourite expressions. "Amy did a superb job again."

"As did you."

"I'm sure I don't gotta explain this to you, Cap, but I didn't really do much." Jake jokes, and Holt can tell he's trying to divert the attention to a simpler topic, but sometimes things must be said.

"You do a lot, Jacob." He continues, then. "Far more than a lot of fathers do. Far more than many would expect of you. And you do it all perfectly right, with heart and determination."

Jake nods, swallowing down a lump in his throat, it seems, and it might be a step too far for his already emotional state, but Holt feels like it needs to accompany his accolades.

"I am very proud of you, son."

Jake is very obviously fighting back tears as he replies.

"Thanks, dad."

The little girl in Holt's arms stirs right at this moment, and Jake seems to want to interject immediately in fear that she'll start crying, but she simply stares up at Holt with impossibly big, brown eyes for the first time. And he realises, just as he did two years ago when Mac's little hand tightened around his finger for the first time, that there is a child in this world that he would literally do anything for. There are four of them now, even if two of them have not fallen under the category of a child for several decades.

"Hello, Maya." He says to the little face that seems to be inspecting him. "I'm Captain Raymond Holt. Your grandfather."

He looks up at Kevin and Amy, who've stopped their conversation while Amy is lifting her phone in their direction, and then at Jake, who's looking at Maya as well with shining eyes. Then he looks back down at Maya, stretching her arms out of her swaddle as if she's reaching for him.

"You are a very lucky little girl."

#b99 #brooklyn 99 #jake peralta #amy santiago #peraltiago #mac peralta #maya peralta #raymond holt #captain dad #my writing #ficlet

178 notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

🧿🤠🐇🍲🍯: Lan Wangji does not think it’s safe to raise A-Yuan in Cloud Recesses after the Lans participated in the killing of his zhiji and the entire Burial Mounds community (or more accurately that it’s not safe while he himself is in seclusion and can’t watch over A-Yuan, at least) so he delivers A-Yuan to the one person who he knows did not stand against Wei Wuxian (and got away with it, bc this person has never stood against anything, since standing takes effort): Nie Huaisang.

Little Side Door - ao3

Nie Huaisang’s rooms in the Unclean Realm had a little side door that no one but him ever used.

They hadn’t originally. The Unclean Realm was a fortress, designed to maximize protection and defense; there was no better place for keeping things safe by locking them away. While it had its fair share of boltholes and escape routes, they were not common and universally difficult to access lest the enemy learn of them and use them to their advantage. Even the layout of their open spaces were carefully planned lest the attack come from the sky, a concern that only cultivators had, and not about how they themselves could escape – after all, weren’t they all Nie, ready to die rather than endure dishonor?

The little side door that led to Nie Huaisang’s room opened onto a small rock garden, left to grow wild with weeds rather than reveal its presence to more people. It existed only because his brother had ordered it constructed by those he trusted most, all in secret in the dark of the night. He had never explained why he had gone to such lengths to create such an unwelcome and inauspicious place, but then, he hadn’t needed to – Nie Huaisang had been there, too, when his father had descended into madness and they had been trapped in the familial quarters with no way out that did not take them through him. If his brother had been the one to brave his father’s rage directly, Nie Huaisang had been the one stuck in a small space that was only not claustrophobic because it was so painfully familiar.

Now, though his father was long dead and gone, Nie Huaisang had a little side door.

A little side door, and a little garden that almost no one knew about; in combination with the saber that his brother forced him to learn and the golden core he had so begrudgingly formed, he now had a way to reach the sky and the illusive freedom it represented – the freedom to flee and leave his home behind.

If it ever happens again – his brother had said once, the closest he had ever come to speaking of it.

He did not finish his sentence, as Nie Huaisang had thrown his plate into his face and stormed off, steaming mad and close to tears. He did not raise the subject a second time.

Nie Huaisang did not often use his little side door.

Although he enjoyed gardens, he preferred the aviary he’d constructed, or one of the myriad of well-tended gardens in the main part of the sect; even the vegetable gardens out back beside the kitchens were far more welcoming than that sparse straggle of land. He’d only ever spent time there when he was a child and in desperate need of some quiet, wanting to avoid adults with their arguments and their miseries; he’d taken some friends there because he thought it might impress them, but it hadn’t, and anyway his brother had put a stop to that soon enough.

He didn’t even think about the little side door, most days. It was just a part of the room, a small tucked away corner with nothing in it. Nothing to think about.

And then, of course, years after he’d put it out of his mind entirely, there came a terrible banging noise at that little side door, like someone was kicking at it furiously from the outside.

Nie Huaisang nearly fell over sideways in his scramble to get up, and then once again when he realized where the noise was coming from – almost no one knew about his side door and its little garden, and so no one had ever come to him through it. Who would be knocking now…?

He opened it.

Lan Wangji, white robes stained with blood and cheeks bright with fever, shoved something into his arms. “You have a child now,” he said through bitten lips. “Congratulations. He is called A-Yuan. I entrust you with his care, for my sect cannot be trusted with it.”

And then he turned and staggered away, mounting up on Bichen and flying off before Nie Huaisang could say anything – before he could even finish searching his memories and recalling that yes, in fact, Lan Wangji had been one of the friends he had shown the side door to, years and years before, and thus knew how to find it. Before he could even start processing the thousands of thoughts that had spring to life, fully formed, at all the information he’d just received: the bloody robes, the desperation, the reference to the Lan sect – the Lan sect! – being somehow untrustworthy…

He looked down at his arms.

“Congratulations,” he echoed blankly. “I have a child now.”

The child blinked up at him, and then smiled.

“Da-ge!” Nie Husiang howled, rushing into the sect leader’s study where his brother was doing work – luckily it wasn’t receiving hours and he wasn’t in the main hall, as that would have been unfortunate. “Da-ge, you have to help me! I have a child now!”

His brother stared at him, expression blank and mouth slightly agape. The brush in his hand dripping ink onto a now-wasted piece of paper.

“Huaisang,” he said after a moment. “What the fuck.”

Nie Huaisang nodded furiously.

“Where did you get – how – who – what did you do?!”

“I am currently unable to disclose any details,” Nie Huaisang said promptly even as his brother tossed aside the brush and got up, striding over with a storm brewing in his face. “All I can say is that I have to raise this child now. By which I mean, you have to help me raise this child now; I can’t raise children! I’m not mature enough to raise a child!”

“No kidding! Why would someone entrust – to you…” Nie Mingjue trailed off, looking down at the child with a frown that shifted from disbelieving irritation to concern. He pressed his hand to the child’s forehead. “Huaisang, this child has a high fever. We need to get him to the medical wing at once – is that blood?”

“Not his, I don’t think?”

“I don’t want to know,” his brother decided. “Move.”

Some time later, they were both sitting next to the bed in one of the spare rooms in the family quarters; Nie Huaisang thought it might even have been the same one that he’d used when he was very young. A-Yuan was sleeping, and Nie Mingjue was still holding his little hand in his own, having been clocked as the oversize comfort animal that he not-so-secretly was from the very first moment A-Yuan laid eyes on him.

The doctors had declared A-Yuan’s fever to be very severe, but they had applied plenty of medicine – the Lan sect might have more esoteric healing techniques, but there wasn’t anything like the Nie sect when it came to standard medicine for injuries and illnesses associated with the battlefield, and despite A-Yuan’s tender age Nie Huaisang would be willing to bet that his injuries were from a battlefield. They were confident that A-Yuan would make a full recovery, body and mind both intact, although they warned that his memory of the past might be impacted.

Nie Huaisang had thought about all that blood that wasn’t his, of Lan Wangji pale-faced and wild-eyed, and decided that a little bit of forgetting might not be so bad after all.

“Are you going to tell me anything more,” his brother said after a while. “Or should I just give up now?”

Nie Huaisang leaned over and patted his knee. “It’s good that you know your limitations.”

His brother rolled his eyes.

“I can’t believe this is my life,” he remarked.

“What part?” Nie Huaisang asked, curious. “The fact that we have a kid now, because obviously we’re keeping him? Or the fact that someone gave a kid to me?”

“Both,” his brother decided. “Definitely both.”

“His name’s A-Yuan,” Nie Huaisang said. “Apparently.”

“Well,” his brother said. “Obviously that won’t do.”

Nie Huaisang had the ability to be sneaky when he wanted to be. It wasn’t a matter of stealth, he had explained to his brother, but sneakiness– a completely different concept. Stealth suggested that he was doing something to conceal himself and required skills and talent, or else a lot of practice, and obviously Nie Huaisang was not going to go in for either of those.

Sneakiness, though…

He didn’t need people not to be able to see him in order to be sneaky. He just needed them not to care about him, or wonder where he was.

“Psst,” he said, knocking on the window to the rooms where Lan Wangji was purportedly practicing seclusion. “Psst! Lan Zhan!”

Lan Wangji had given him a child. They were definitely past the ‘Lan-er-gongzi’ stage.

“Lan Zhan!” he rapped at the window with his fan. “We need a courtesy name!”

There was some sounds from within the jingshi, mostly stumbling around. Nie Huaisang waited patiently, and after a few moments the window opened and Lan Wangji stared out at him. He was as pale as a ghost with lips as red as blood, and very clearly not in seclusion at all, but rather in the midst of healing whatever wounds had left him bloody – he probably shouldn’t have gotten out of bed to answer.

Oh, well. Too late for regret now.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Lan Wangji said, voice dull and eyes blank as he stared at Nie Huaisang. It was unclear if he meant in the Cloud Recesses generally, or here in particular, interrupting his ‘seclusion’.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Nie Huaisang said, scowling at him. “We need a courtesy name! A courtesy name for the child, you hear me? You know, of course, that Qinghe Nie don’t use personal names, not even for children – certainlynot for children older than their first year. It’d be a complete giveaway that he’s not organically ours if we call him something like A-Yuan.”

Lan Wangji raised a hand to pinch his nose. “Please go away.”

“Courtesy name, Lan Zhan. I mean, I may be the one who’ll be raising him, but please think carefully: do you really want meto be the one naming him?”

“…call him Sizhui.”

“Sizhui,” Nie Huaisang repeated. “With the characters…?”

Lan Wangji nodded.

“Uh, no,” Nie Huaisang said. “I need a bettercourtesy name. Are you joking?”

“Nie Huaisang. Go away.”

“But –”

Lan Wangji slammed the window shut.

“…fine,” Nie Huaisang said to the closed window. “Be that way, see if I care. Not like we don’t need to build up a decent coparenting relationship or anything eventually.”

He thought he heard a choking sound from behind the door and smirked.

“Don’t you think you can baby-trap me and just walk away, Lan Zhan,” he said in his best ominous tone. “If you wanted someone to raise your kid without ever consulting you again, you should’ve dropped him off in the Lotus Pier with Jiang Cheng, who’d probably be too busy being confused to even question where he came frome – but no. You came to me. I don’t make decisions in the best of times, least of all good. I have questions. A lot of questions.”

He thought about it for a moment.

“Not about how you got him or anything like that,” he said. “I’m not stupid, I can tell a secret when I see one. But, you know, other types of questions. Parenting stuff. Are you a ‘go sit and think about what you’ve done’ sort of parent? Or more traditional discipline, with copying lines and occasionally strikes when they’re naughty? Do you want him to learn the Lan sect rules along with the Nie sect principles –”

There was a muffled sound from inside the house.

It sounded angry.

“…we can talk about it later,” Nie Huaisang decided. He might’ve pushed his luck a bit too much. “Talk later!”

“You have a…what?” Lan Xichen asked, his smile a little fixed and stare a little wilder than normal.

“A nephew!” Nie Mingjue gushed. “Isn’t he wonderful?”

“Nephew.”

“He’s so well behaved, too! He plays quietly by himself most of the time, drawing and even writing a little, and Huaisang’s already teaching him how to play the dizi –”

“When you say nephew, do you mean Nie Huaisang’s child?”

“Do I have other brothers?” Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes at him. “He’s obviously not yours. Anyway, I know Meng Yao is expecting one, too, but he wouldn’t be dressed in Nie colors if it was his, would it?”

“Yes, but…are you telling me that…that Nie Huaisang…”

“It’s a battlefield child, Xichen,” Nie Mingjue said patiently. “Obviously. Someone entrusted him to Huaisang.”

“Oh,” Lan Xichen said, looking relieved. “Yes, that makes more sense…wait.”

Nie Mingjue waited.

“Someone entrusted him to Nie Huaisang?”

“I know, right?” Nie Mingjue said, and Lan Xichen didn’t notice how strained his grin had suddenly become, or how thoughtful his eyes were as he surveyed Lan Xichen as if trying to find an answer to a question. “I would’ve assumed they’d go for someone more responsible, like you. Guess you never know…”

“I guess you don’t,” Lan Xichen agreed, looking down at the child with a bemused expression. A battlefield child, entrusted to Nie Huaisang… “They must have been truly driven to desperation.”

“Perhaps,” Nie Mingjue said, and then changed the subject to little Nie Sizhui’s accomplishments, of which he could list many at great length and very great enthusiasm. By the time he was done with that, Ln Xichen was so overwhelmed that he didn’t ask a single other question.

“So I’ve got an idea on how to do this whole co-parenting thing,” Nie Huaisang said, cracking nuts to eat. He was sitting next to Lan Wangji’s bedside, and dropping the shells straight on the floor, too, staring dead-eyed at Lan Wangji as if daring him to say something – which he wouldn’t, of course. “Since with Sizhui starting classes soon it’s become much more urgent, on account of me needing you to attend meetings with his teachers and discuss his progress.”

Lan Wangji looked deeply long-suffering. He’d only invited Nie Huaisang inside because Nie Huaisang had threatened to start shouting out his business loudly on account of oh but Lan Zhan, how was I to know if you could hear me in there, I just had to raise my voice just in case because I wouldn’t want you to miss any of the extremelyimportant news –

It was all Lan Wangji’s fault for being born earlier than Nie Huaisang, Nie Huaisang thought virtuously. It was merely Nie Huaisang’s lot in life to fulfill the role of annoying younger brother to everyone.

“See, it’s the music,” Nie Huaisang continued. “You do music, right?”

Lan Wangji’s ice-cold glare suggested that he did, in fact, ‘do music’.

“So your brother has been playing this song for da-ge on a regular basis,” Nie Huaisang explained, ignoring the glare entirely. “And when he’s not available, which is most of the time nowadays, he’s been sending san-ge instead. Even though, of course, poor san-ge’s so busy back at Lanling all the time…ughh, it’s so unfair, you know! Poor san-ge has to do all the work of being the heir and gets none of the benefits, and they pile even more work on him on top of that – really, he gets no respect.”

Lan Wangji’s expression suggested he didn’t care.

“And think about the inconvenience to us!” Nie Huaisang sallied forth, undeterred. “People coming and going all the time, da-ge having to interrupt his schedule of spending quality time with me and Sizhui – and sect leader work, of course, though that’s less important – in order to march over to greet them and host them and listen to them…what a pain it is!”

Lan Wangji appeared on the verge of suggesting that Nie Huaisang consider getting to the point.

“So you should come do it instead.”

Lan Wangji’s expression cracked, suggesting that Nie Huaisang had actually managed to make an impact.

“You remember,” he said, voice low and a little hoarse from all that refusing to speak he’d been doing. Really, if Nie Huaisang wasn’t around to goad him into it, he might’ve lost the voice entirely – he didn’t even have little Sizhui around to force him to speak! “That I’m in seclusion. Right?”

“You’re horribly lonely is what you are,” Nie Huisang said briskly. “You require company. Therefore, coming to take up a semi-permanent posting in the Unclean Realm to play the Song of Clarity for my brother morning, noon, and night is clearly the finest way to solve all of our problems, and for you to see little Sizhui as often as you like.”

Lan Wangji visibly wavered. “My brother,” he said, then coughed. “My brother will never believe it.”

“That’s your problem,” Nie Huaisang said. “Find a way to sell it.”

He stood, shaking the remaining shells onto the chair.

“See you in Qinghe soon, Lan Zhan..!”

Lan Wangji was trying to kill him with his mind, Nie Huaisang thought happily as he wandered off with a whistle and a vaguely silly expression. Good – he’d been inside for too long. He needed the stimulation.

“Truly,” Nie Mingjue remarked, strolling around their gardens without any apparent notice of the small child perched on his shoulders, giggling wildly at the feeling of being tall, “I feel far better than I did before! One can scarcely compare it – night and day, really. Your Lan sect’s Song of Clarity is a marvel, even if it does take a while before it kicks in.”

“Mm,” Lan Wangji said, walking slowly with his hands behind his back. He was still unsteady on his feet on account of the absolutely horrific injuries he’d incurred – but if the Lan sect’s response to everything was seclusion, seclusion, seclusion, then the Nie sect’s equivalent response was exercise. These little excursions through the gardens were the result.

Thus far, they were still only doing laps around the main gardens, but Nie Huaisang had plans to eventually force Lan Wangji to go even as far as his own little side garden. He’d made it through his side door once, after all; why not a second time..?

At any rate, Nie Huaisang still wasn’t quite sure how Lan Wangji had talked Lan Xichen into allowing him to come to the Unclean Realm, but it really did make the whole co-parenting business a lot more convenient. And his brother had had so much fun making Lan Wangji stiff and awkward over all his thanks and praise for his decision to come ‘help out’ with Nie Sizhui’s raising until finally, at last, Nie Huaisang had taken pity and revealed that Nie Mingjue knew perfectly well whose battlefield child this was.

Both in terms of who had gifted him to Nie Huaisang, and who’d adopted him originally, and of course even his original surname – The little tot’s been through enough adoptions to make anyone’s head spin, his brother had said, his voice gruff as always. There’s no point in thinking back too far, is there?

Lan Wangji had been very relieved.

“Run, bobo!” Nie Sizhui cried, pointing over at a bird. “We need to get it for Sang-gege!”

Nie Mingjue snorted like a bull but obediently quickened his feet and left the rest of them behind, heading in full charge straight at the wild pheasant that was far more likely to end up on Nie Huaisang’s plate than in his aviary. It was about even odds which one Nie Sizhui meant, anyway.

“Nie Huaisang,” Lan Wangji said, his voice low, and Nie Huaisang looked at him. “The Song of Clarity does not take time to work. These effects should have happened at once.”

Nie Huaisang opened his fan, hiding his face as he frowned. “How odd,” he said. “And after san-ge put in all that hard work.”

“Perhaps he played it wrong.”

“Odd,” Nie Huaisang said again. “When san-ge gets so very little wrong…has your brother sent any word on the Xue Yang issue?”

“…he has not.”

“He’s going to need to pick a side eventually.”

“He does not want to make things difficult for his sworn brother.”

“Does he have only the one?” Nie Huaisang asked archly, and Lan Wangji averted his gaze. “It’s awkward for us if he doesn’t back us, and is a bad look besides…truly, it’s a wonder that san-ge managed to squeeze out the time to come here.”

Lan Wangji’s frown deepened. “Indeed,” he said. “One would think his father might be tempted to stop him.”

“Wouldn’t you just?” Nie Huaisang said. “Wouldn’t you just…you know, maybe when you’re feeling better, we should go visit Lanling ourselves.”

Lan Wangji glanced at him, arching an eyebrow, and Nie Huaisang smiled, fanning himself casually.

“I’m not the only one with a little side door,” he said. “Let’s go knocking and see what we find, shall we?”

#mdzs #nie huaisang #lan wangji #lan sizhui #nie mingjue #lan xichen #my fic #my fics #little side door

390 notes · View notes