#anyways ridiculous side project done now to. other ridiculous side projects. it’s a bit of an MO really | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

taomyou · 6 months

Text

The Romance of Reimbursements - Chapter 7

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Reader Status: COMPLETED Summary: There’s a guy you see every Friday on bus 143, and you think he’s pretty hot. It wouldn’t hurt to tell your best friend about him, would it? or, you and Levi take the same bus home from work every Friday, and you fall in love slowly, clumsily, and with all the time in the world to fold as many paper stars as your heart desires. Word Count: 5.7k Tags: slow burn, friends to lovers, modern au, office au, fluff, romance, meet-cute, matchmaking

(A/N: this fic is entirely available on ao3 here if you would like to read it there instead!)

Chapter Navigation Accompanying Playlist

not trash

When Levi started his Saturday, he expected his roommates to be thorns on his side.

It's the first weekend in a while that Isabel hasn't been swarmed with schoolwork or MCAT studying, and Furlan got the day off at work—the two of them with the whole day free to themselves were sure to be trouble.

In the morning while he was with a client discussing plans for a building in a neighboring city, Isabel called him and asked him to send her the recipe that you sent him last night. His client took Levi's request to step away to take the call in stride, but Levi chewed Isabel out for interrupting his work instead of just texting him what she needed.

Still, after hanging up, he forwarded the picture you sent to him yesterday and told her to wait for him to ask for help from you himself if she needed it.

Yesterday, after you left the flower shop, Isabel begged him for your number. It was embarrassing, quite frankly, how open she was about wanting it despite only having talked to you twice now. He would've given it to her, honestly, to avoid her pestering him, but he was too scared to look at your contact when you'd left him on read, and he'd rather take the pestering.

Isabel would end up getting your number anyway, since you so graciously mentioned knowing Hange.

Isabel replied with a thumbs-up emoji before Levi turned off his phone to get back to his client. After some further discussion, she told him to expect some paperwork to finalize the deal in a couple of days, and she left his office space.

He typically works from home if he doesn't have a lecture to teach and meets with clients upon request in conference rooms, but this particular client requested that they meet at his university office. Not any particular issue—he can get more work done here anyway.

When she's out of the room, he brings his chair closer to his computer and checks his emails. Some students message him asking the most ridiculous, braindead questions, and he has to hold himself back from scolding them for not checking the syllabus before emailing him of all people.

There's some other emails from clients with feedback and whatnot, but nothing pressing that'd require him to make any phone calls, so he replies with more emails. He switches tabs over to his teaching site, last night having been the due date for their midterm project proposals, and he grimaces.

Can these kids turn in anything on time?

He sends his teaching assistants a message telling them they can start grading, and he finishes out his business on his computer. He checks the time; 10:29 AM. A reasonable enough time to pack up for the day and get home, considering he has no other work-related things to do.

He puts his things into his backpack, then locks the door to his office before he starts heading to the parking garage. He sees some of his students, some of whom are ballsy enough to approach him to ask about the upcoming midterm and other assignments, but he ignores them all until they give up. The instructions are on the syllabus, both him and his teaching assistants already repeated those instructions during class, and it's a fucking Saturday—he most certainly is not going to stop only to repeat himself for the third time.

When he gets to his car, it feels a bit unfamiliar.

He hasn't taken his car to work since September, only bothering with the parking for a week before deciding to completely switch over to using public transit, but campus is empty enough on weekends that he doesn't need to do that today. He reverses out of the spot and drives home without bothering to put on any music, just listening to whatever's on the radio as white noise.

For a Saturday, the roads are relatively empty, but that doesn't mean anything to Levi other than a slightly faster commute back home.

When he walks through the door into their shared house and into the kitchen, he finds Isabel rummaging through the cupboards whilst looking at her phone. When she notices him, she waves at him with the hand her phone is in.

"Welcome back!"

"What are you doing?" Levi asks, putting his backpack down at the dining table and then going over to Isabel. When he sees the mess, he picks up the nearest thing to him (which happens to be a box of graham crackers) and smacks her on the head with it. "You're making a mess."

She waves him off, unfazed by the tap. "I'm looking for ingredients. I wanna make egg tarts." Levi rolls his eyes and makes his way over to the cupboard where the box goes, puts the graham crackers back, and rearranges the other things Isabel moved in there.

"None of us ever bake. What makes you think we have anything you need for that?"

She shrugs from the corner of his eye. "Might as well check."

"Where's Furlan?"

"He's still sleeping."

"Figures."

Levi goes one by one through the cupboards, cleaning up the chaos Isabel leaves behind. She stretches upwards when she's done plowing through practically the entire kitchen, and the one thing that gets left on the countertop is an almost-empty carton of eggs. Levi frowns at them.

"You tore apart the kitchen only to come up with a few eggs?"

"I'm not the one in charge of groceries! It's not my fault we don't have anything."

Looking closer, he sees that one of the tea canisters on the counter is missing. He looks at Isabel before going over to the trash bin only to see it at the bottom. He frowns and grabs it—thank fucking heavens that there's nothing else in there yet. He's sure it's clean because he's the one to set up the trash bag before going to work in the morning, but he would've gotten the container back anyway.

"Why is this in the trash?" He chastises her. She looks at him quizzically.

"Is that not trash?"

What? This is definitely not trash. "Are you blind?" He opens the lid and faces the inside to her, and Isabel, again, looks at him with confusion.

"Isn't that just trash? It's not tea."

He scoffs, then brings it towards him to check and make sure she didn't throw those away somewhere else.

When he sees several paper stars inside, still perfectly intact, he relaxes a bit but continues glaring at Isabel.

"Leave this here," he huffs, putting it back on the countertop.

Furlan, now woken from his slumber by the ruckus in the kitchen, speaks up from the hallway. "What're you guys fighting about now?" He asks, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"This isn't a fight," says Levi.

Furlan yawns, walking over to the dining table. "Yeah, okay."

Levi goes past the two of them and into the hallway. Before he can get far, however, Isabel calls after him. "Hey, don't leave!"

He looks back at her, deadpan. "I need to go on my run."

Isabel wants to go after him, but Furlan stops her and nods for Levi to leave. He does and swiftly goes to his room to get into clothing more appropriate for exercise, and when he's out, Furlan's on his way out the door and Isabel is nowhere to be seen.

"Where are you going?"

"Isabel wants to go to the grocery store. Thanks for telling us where you got those tarts, by the way," Furlan jests.

"In your pajamas?" Levi rolls his eyes, grabs his phone, his wallet, and a bottle of water from his backpack, and he then goes to grab his sneakers from the shoe rack near the door.

Furlan looks down and comically screams out, "Oh no, I had no idea!," then laughs at himself.

"Really?" Levi finishes tying his shoes and Furlan closes the door after he's out. He sees Isabel at the car, but he doesn't say anything to her. She rolls down her window when he's close enough, and she sticks her arm out. He just stares back at her.

"Hey! Stop!" He still doesn't say anything. "I'm sorry I threw away your tea!"

He scoffs, swatting her arm out of the way. He doesn't quite know what to say, so he just runs off. When Furlan gets to the car's passenger seat, he puts his hand on Isabel's shoulder.

"Hey, don't worry about him, okay?"

She shrugs with a new smile on her face, then putting the car in reverse. "I'm okay, he's the one in the wrong here."

Meanwhile, Levi's running around the neighborhood in the general direction of the main street where most of the traffic is. Not for any particular reason—just that he doesn't need his neighbors trying to stop him to ask about his job, his house, or any of that nonsense.

Levi, despite running whenever there's enough free time to allow him to do so, is convinced that runner's high is a scam. Running is brutal, it burns his lungs, and he always swears he's never going to do it again, but he still does it because it helps get him away from whatever metaphorical demons are chasing after him (and to keep himself in good enough shape, though, Sina University is so fucking big that he gets enough steps just walking from the bus stop to his office).

He loses track of time quickly, not that he was looking at his phone in the first place. After a good several miles of running, he takes a quick break at a bench facing the bus stop he ordinarily gets off at. Bus 143 comes and goes as he waits there, but he makes sure to signal to the driver that he doesn't need to get on. Levi hears a beep from his phone, so he checks.

Isabel - 1:12 PM

hey we forgot to buy flour! can you get some :)

Instead of replying with a text, Levi calls her. "How the fuck do you forget the flour?" Levi knows fuck-all about baking, but is flour not literally the most important ingredient in any baked good?

"It doesn't matter! Can you get some?"

"I'm still on my run," he grumbles, getting up.

"So?"

Levi sighs, pausing before heading for the market on Rose. It's close enough to where he is anyway. "Fine," he tells her before hanging up.

Isabel, as stubborn and irritating as she can be, is a good kid, and Levi isn't going to be the one who makes her upset on one of her few free days.

He already feels bad enough for guilting her for throwing away the canister; she wouldn't have known what it was for, anyway, besides holding onto the dandelion root tea you gave him weeks ago.

To say he got addicted to dandelion root tea is a wild exaggeration. He didn't mean to forget about his other tea blends, he just instinctively began reaching for that specific one when he went to make his tea.

When it got empty (and it got empty relatively quickly), he thought back to your first interaction back at dinner.

If Erwin and Hange both said they kept their stars from you on display, why couldn't he? He saw Erwin's jar when he came in for lunch, the day after the two of you were formally introduced to one another, and he took notice of Hange's vase on the cabinet next to their TV the next time he visited. Nothing special about it—everyone else did it, and it was normal.

He kept the one you made from your napkin from the first dinner on his dresser. The other three from when he drove you back to your and Hange's apartment complex were still in his glove box, along with all the other ones you'd given him during your times out together; the two of you were typically seated next to each other, and so he's the one you end up giving the stars to at the beginning of dinner (and the person who has to ask the waiter for a new napkin when you actually need it).

And so, he brought in the stars from his glove box, put them in the empty tea canister with the one he's kept on his dresser, and never said a word about it. Whenever he'd get a new one, he'd do the same thing again.

When he sees the supermarket in view, he slows himself down until he settles into a walk, and he drinks all of his water before throwing away the empty bottle into the trash can near the front entrance. He knows this place decently enough—Furlan's the one in charge of grocery shopping for the house, but he's been dragged along enough times to know where things are. Still unprepared to face Isabel, though, he opts to take his time and go through every aisle. He can't recall where the flour is, anyway. Nobody in their house has ever needed flour before right now.

He doesn't quite get the chance to go through everything, though, because as soon as he reaches the end of the aisle, he hears your voice. He thinks his mind is fucking with him at first because, well, why would you be here? You live a fair drive away, even if it is only 10 minutes, and there's a more popular grocery store closer to you, so why would you be here? He hesitates in looking around, because he's almost certain that he's just misheard whoever was talking, but when he sees you in the bakery section, he freezes.

Time passes without him realizing, and moments later, you're in front of him, telling him that it's nice to see him as if you haven't seen him at least once a week for the last 5 months.

"Yeah," he replies. When the silence is too much for him (and you), he realizes he's acting like a fucking idiot, and he shouldn't be scared of you. "What're you doing here?"

"Just getting some things for dinner. What about you?"

"My roommates texted me during my run and told me to buy a bag of flour."

"Isabel and Furlan are your roommates?" At the mention of them by name, he can't help but question it.

"How do you know that?"

"They called me earlier for help picking stuff out. I figured you were talking about them."

They called you? The one fucking thing he told Isabel not to do. "I told them to wait for me to text you, not for them to fucking call you. I didn't think they were serious about making anything today. Sorry about them."

"It's no problem. Besides, I wasn't busy with anything, so I didn't mind."

Well, since you're such close friends with Hange, Levi's sure you've already dealt with your own fair share of their tomfoolery and can tolerate Isabel.

"Still." He watches as you take the sweet from your hand, tear off a piece, and hold it out for him. Is this for him? "What's that?"

It's a fucking pastry, idiot. Everyone knows what a pastry is.

"Take some, the baker here gave it to me," you say, then pause. "Or if you don't want it, you can give it to Isabel."

He sighs. It could be a good enough treat to give Isabel as an apology, so he takes it. "Thank you. I'll give it to her when I'm home."

When neither of you say anything, he wants to send you off to finish getting what you need for dinner.

It'd be selfish to keep you here when you could be doing literally anything else right now.

He wants to leave and look for flour, but suddenly, he realizes: he doesn't know what kind of flour he needs.

That's fucking great.

He read over the recipe you sent yesterday, and all it says is "flour." Furlan had a phase in university where he'd watch MasterChef constantly, and Levi would overhear all this talk about how much the type of flour matters in literally anything.

So, he has to ask now.

No, it's not because he wants to keep you there with him. He could just let Isabel and Furlan fail at the tarts, and they'd be too embarrassed to ever try baking again.

But before he can stop them, the words awkwardly spill out from his mouth.

"What flour do I need?"

God, he must sound like a fucking idiot right now

You smile, then you put your hands on the handles of your cart. "I'll show you."

He walks alongside you as you go through the aisles, and he's glad that neither of you make conversation. He's made a complete fool of himself already, and he'd probably say something stupid again if he opened his mouth.

When you reach the flour, you point out which ones he could get, and he picks the cheapest bag he can. Apparently, it's not as deep as the MasterChef contestants made it out to be. You offer to let him put it in your cart, which he does, and the two of you head over to the cash register together.

When he helps you load the things onto the conveyor belt, he doesn't miss the fact that you're wearing much more casual clothes than usual.

Even when you're not coming from work to the random dinners and get-togethers that Hange organizes, you're always well put-together and dressed up. He's the same in that regard, never wanting to look bad in case a student runs into him or a client recognizes him.

Right now, though, you're both dressed down.

It feels quite domestic, the way you two are out right now.

He takes out his phone, not really because he wants to do anything on it, but he doesn't want to make you feel awkward about having to be seen with him. When he hears the cashier tell you to swipe your card, he looks up and sees that you already paid for the flour. He doesn't say anything to you in protest to avoid causing a scene and potentially angering you, who just helped him without any good reason to, so, instead, he wordlessly helps load everything back into the cart and pushes it himself out of the store.

Once you're out of the store and out of the main walkway, you both stop. You hand Levi his half of the pastry and a bag with the flour, and he opens his mouth just to say something else stupid.

"Thanks for paying for the flour," he says.

You wave him off. "Don't worry about it. It was, like, 5 bucks." He nods.

"Again, sorry about Isabel and Furlan calling you. It probably woke you up."

"It did, but it was almost noon anyway."

"Sleeping in that late now?"

You playfully go to punch his shoulder. "You're the one that told me to sleep well."

He rolls his eyes, swatting your hand away. "Yeah, yeah."

He watches as you go to put the cart away and get your bags. He doesn't dare move, just in case you want to say something else to him, even if the two of you never say "goodbye" to one another when departing like this, but you just wave at him from where you are. Well, you try. He rolls his eyes again, amused, and returns the "wave" with his own.

"It was nice running into you, Levi! Get home safe!" You yell after him.

"I will, you get home safe too."

He's careful on his walk home, not wanting to drop the pastry. It's a fair bit away, but he doesn't mind. Before he can get very far, however, he gets a message on his phone. He switches over the pastry to his other hand to free his right hand and look at the message. It's you, telling him that you're available if he, Isabel, or Furlan need your help. He can't quite think of anything intelligent to say, or find the words to express his gratitude in your willingness to help the most inexperienced bakers in the tristate area, so he tells you to just prepare for the onslaught of questions from Isabel when they start baking.

Levi doesn't bother thinking of much on his walk home, so he gets home without much of a thought as to how long it takes. Isabel and Furlan are at the couch, watching some random reality TV running, and they wave at Levi when they see him.

"Welcome home!" Isabel greets, then getting up to go over to the kitchen. Furlan follows after her, greeting Levi with a wave. Levi puts the bag of flour on the kitchen counter and awkwardly holds out half of the pastry to Isabel. She looks at him, confused. "Why'd you only give me half? If you're apologizing to me, at least have the decency not to eat half of it."

She doesn't sound angry, thank goodness, so Levi rolls his eyes. "Someone gave it to me, and they had the other half."

"Who?" Furlan asks. It apparently doesn't matter, though, because Isabel scarfs it down anyway.

"I ran into a friend," says Levi. That gets Isabel's attention.

"Which friend?"

Levi doesn't quite want to answer, but when she starts to list names, he knows she isn't going to shut up, so he tells her.

"Oh! What was she doing there?"

"Getting stuff for dinner."

Levi's short answers don't satisfy neither Isabel nor Furlan, but they just look to each other and shrug, understanding that that's as much as they're going to get out of him. The three of them then start getting everything out on the counter, and they stare at the recipe together on Levi's phone. After a bit of staring, looking back and forth between each other and the screen, and staring at the ingredients on the table, Isabel speaks up.

"What does it mean to butter a tin?"

Levi can just barely recall doing this at Hange's apartment, but that step was before you took over in teaching, and Levi can't remember what words Hange used to instruct them how to do it.

"Do we even need to do that?" Isabel continues.

Levi does, however, remember you telling them that it's something really important, so he figures this is about when they need your guidance.

And thus began the night.

When you pick up their first call, you have to hear the chaotic banging of the tins and other metal appliances in the background of Isabel asking if you need to butter the tins (and her also thanking you for half of the pastry Sasha gave you). You tell her that you do need to butter them, and Levi (lovingly) smacks Isabel on the head with the tin as an "I told you so."

The second phone call you get from them is not even 5 minutes later, and this time it's Furlan who asks you how to measure everything without a kitchen scale. You direct him as best as you can, but it does help that Furlan at least knows about baking from whatever MasterChef episodes he saw.

You're forced to hear Isabel and Levi arguing faintly in the background, though it's mostly Isabel trying to get Levi to stop criticizing how she washes the dishes as they're being brought out to hold the ingredients. Furlan makes sure to take a selfie to show you later, and laughs at the thought that this would be your first time ever seeing his face.

The third phone call you get from Isabel is her asking things completely irrelevant to baking, mostly just random questions that pop into her mind.

Furlan and Levi take the phone away periodically to actually ask you how to do things, but Isabel always wrestles it back from them to ask another "would you rather" question that she's already asked Levi and Furlan a million times.

She sees Levi putting the tarts into the oven, so she takes a picture to send to you. When she ends the call to wait for the tarts to bake, Levi has Furlan and Isabel clean the kitchen top-to-bottom to avoid the larger mess that would be made when they inevitably inhale the tarts, no matter how bad they might be.

The tarts bake faster than the three of them can clean, so Levi takes them out and doesn't let neither Isabel nor Furlan get near them until they're done cleaning.

"Good job, team!" Isabel cheers when Levi's finally satisfied with their cleaning job. He rolls his eyes, and they all move to the dining table to gather around their creations.

Even though they all worked together, they shaped the tart shells at the same time, so there's some differences in them.

Isabel was very persistent in wanting to have her tarts at the top row of the tray, so hers were a bit darker than the other two's because they were further in the oven.

Furlan's was in the middle row of the tray, and he was wanting to be very precise, so he went through with a knife to get the edges straight (citing various MasterChef contestants who apparently did the same).

Levi didn't quite bother with doing much, focusing more on making sure the other two didn't horrendously fuck up, but they looked neat enough and much better than the last time he made them.

After some very rushed waiting, they try to get them out of the pan. Isabel goes first, but the first one she tries to pry out crumbles immediately. Levi goes next, citing his "experience," but he also fails. Leave it to Furlan to whip out his "MasterChef knowledge" and get them all out neatly, without any breakage, and onto a big platter.

Levi takes one of each person's tarts and puts them on a smaller plate, wanting to at least send you evidence of your help being useful, and Isabel hands him her phone to take the picture.

They all take bites before the tarts can really get a chance to cool, but Isabel still savors it as if it's her last meal, and Furlan gives a chef's kiss to signal his approval. Levi hesitates a bit, but when he takes a bite, he doesn't hate it. It's a bit sweet, and it's not nearly as perfect as the ones you let him take last time, but he's glad that he was able to spend time with his housemates and close friends like this.

Isabel sends you the pictures from the couch, Furlan puts the rest of what they don't finish into the fridge, and Levi takes his time cleaning the kitchen area again. They let the sound of the TV fill the kitchen and living area, and they let themselves relax. Levi joins his friends at the couch when he's finished, Furlan now scrolling through his phone to find a movie for them to put on and make fun of, and Isabel rolls over onto her stomach to stare at the TV.

"Oh, yeah! Levi, can you call her to make sure she got the pictures?" Levi frowns at her.

"We've been bothering her this entire day already."

"Then it wouldn't matter if we did it again, right?"

There's no winning against Isabel, especially now that she's so hopped up on sugar, so Levi reaches into his pocket for his phone and calls you.

"Hello?"

"Isabel told me to tell you to look at the pictures she sent you," Levi says.

You hum, and Levi doesn't say anything while you look at the pictures. "You guys should open a photography studio."

Levi scoffs. "Yeah, right." He can hear you yawn, and what sounds like moving sheets in the background. "Are you in bed already?"

"I'll have you know that," you pause, probably to check the time, "8:32 PM is a perfectly good time to be in bed."

"If you say so. Don't let me keep you up then."

You yawn again. "Nah, I have a few more minutes left in me." That's a lie if Levi's ever heard one.

"You definitely do not," Levi says, then calling over Isabel and Furlan to get their attention. "Okay, say 'thank you.'" He hands the phone to Isabel first.

"Thanks for helping us today! They turned out really yummy, even if we didn't wait for them to get cold." You tell her something, then Isabel hands the phone to Furlan.

"Thank you, we couldn't have done it without you. They're good, but they're not nearly as nice as the ones you sent with Levi." Levi rolls his eyes, but agrees with him. Furlan gives the phone back to Levi.

"What they said."

You laugh. "No 'thank you?'"

Levi rolls his eyes again. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." You yawn for the third time that phone call. "I think I gotta go."

"I can tell." Levi pauses before he speaks again. "Good to know you're getting your sleep back."

"Me too."

"Take it easy at work."

Levi doesn't know much beyond the fact you work at Erwin's firm as an attorney, seeing as Hange's the one telling him all his other information and they just cannot be trusted with anything. What he does know is that you don't get enough sleep, and that you're completely overworked. Erwin was just like you (and still is), and it blows Levi's mind just how brutally the company treats you. Not that he isn't overworked himself, but that's by choice, not because some stupid fucking higher-ups told him to never have time off.

"I will. I don't know much about how work is for you, but if Hange's right and you're really as famous as they say, you should take it easy too."

"They're not wrong, but I don't care. About being famous, I mean."

There's a bit of a pause before you speak up again. "Goodnight, Levi."

"Goodnight. Sleep well," then ending the call. Isabel and Furlan are staring at him. "What the fuck do you guys want?"

Furlan looks back down at his phone before getting up to connect the TV to the movie he's picked out, and Isabel grins.

"Nothing," she says. Levi rolls his eyes at her.

"Yeah, whatever."

✰

"What the fuck do you mean you want to get dinner on Valentine's Day?"

Erwin smiles from across the table, fiddling with his coffee. "I had a reservation for myself and Moblit, but he wants to ask out Hange."

"And why am I invited because of this?" Levi has no issue with Moblit asking out Hange. Those idiots have had heart-eyes for each other for ages now, and it's almost funny that it's taken this much time for them to act on it. Moblit is out of town fairly often for work, though, so Levi won't make fun of their romantic ineptitude. "Also, your coffee smells like shit."

Erwin chuckles. "Of course it does. And I can't change the number of people that the reservation is for, so I can't go alone."

"You have plenty of friends, why do you need me?" Levi takes a long sip of his tea, but immediately regrets it. "This is disgusting."

"Levi, you're the only one who's available on Valentine's Day." Erwin takes a sip of his coffee, then speaking from behind the cup. "And besides, you're not seeing anyone."

Levi kicks him underneath the table, but Erwin just laughs.

"Please, as if I need your pity."

Erwin puts down his cup and brings a napkin to wipe at his mouth. "C'mon, Levi. I know you don't have any lectures on Tuesdays, and you can very easily get through all your clients in the morning."

He sighs. He already dealt with enough nagging from Isabel yesterday, but Erwin's just as persistent, if not more so.

"Fucking fine. Where are we eating?"

Erwin nods, a smirk growing on his face. He takes another sip to hide it.

"Sina's Kitchen."

"You're paying."

Before Erwin can say anything, a waitress comes to take their orders for breakfast, and the two men don't revisit the topic of dinner.

Levi doesn't give it any thought, not even on the morning of.

It's just Erwin being Erwin, and Levi's been whisked away on more than enough plans like this by his friends. He spends the rest of Sunday at home looking at midterm proposals and reviewing client information, he gives a lecture on Monday and meets with more clients, and he gets through all his clients on Tuesday by noon. Night comes fast enough, Levi finally takes a breather from the last two days, and he starts getting ready.

Levi isn't unfamiliar with Sina's Kitchen at all. Both his colleagues and clients frequent the restaurant, so he's had to sit through more than enough uncomfortable dinners there.

The night of, he puts on a suit, one a bit more formal than what he normally wears to work.

Erwin insisted over the phone to no end that this was the suit he has to wear tonight.

Nothing quite stood out aside from his cravat and the pearl cuff links Erwin also insisted he put on his pale blue dress shirt, but whatever.

Again, it's Erwin being Erwin.

Levi would've smacked him for being so demanding about it but he's too tired to really care enough to do that.

He drives himself to the restaurant, parks, and goes inside.

In that same phone call where Erwin told Levi to wear what he did, he said that the table was listed under "Smith," so when the reservationist asks, that's what Levi tells him. A hostess walks him over to the table for two, and he sits.

He's early, but he does think it's strange that Erwin isn't there even earlier. He calls him, but the call goes immediately to voicemail, so he just assumes that Erwin's caught in traffic and can't pick up the phone.

After a few minutes, a waitress brings two glasses of water to the table, and Levi takes a drink. He hears Erwin walking behind him, as well as the hostess from earlier, but when Levi looks up from his glass, he chokes on his drink.

What the actual fuck.

"Levi?"

✰

Next Chapter

#attack on titan #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #tao.levi #levi ackerman #levi aot #the romance of reimbursements #levi #fanfiction

3 notes · View notes

palimpsessed · 2 years

Text

It’s Wednesday?! Again?! Apparently. This has been a weird week but now I guess it’s nearly over. Except tomorrow is my busiest day of the month soooo well it will be a relief when it’s done.

Thank you lovelies for your tags! 🥰 @frjsti @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @facewithoutheart @confused-bi-queer @martsonmars @angelsfalling16 @artsyunderstudy

Does anyone remember a cracky piece I teased a bit ago where Simon and Baz were coming up with...uh, “nicknames” for each other? Anyway. I have started putting that rough draft into something presentable and I’m really loving it. So I’m going to share some of that instead of yet more SAE which I’m sure everyone but me is tired of by now. New working title is “By Any Other Name...”

Under a cut for very slight hints of spice. And I have another ART! update

Simon POV, post canon, post coital:

"It's not my fault your prophecy is full of ridiculous sexual innuendo."

"You're making it dirty! It's not dirty!"

"It's a little dirty," he murmurs.

"Well it's not mine and I'm over all that."

He sighs. "Fine."

"Fine," I say, and turn over to kiss him. I get as far as his cheek before he's speaking again.

His brows are knit. He's being proper thoughtful now. "You are a mess of innuendo."

"You can't call it that," I say. He cuts his eyes to me in confusion and then barks out a surprised laugh.

"No, no. Think about it, Snow."

I drop back onto my wings again with a huff of air. So much for post-coital kisses and cuddles. Of course Baz wants to write his fucking dissertation right now.

If we had a whiteboard, he'd be making columns and phoning Penelope for consultation.

"Sword of Mages. Excalibur—that's definitely one for consideration."

I'm going to object again—I'd die of embarrassment—but he's already moving on, quoting the fucking prophecy again.

"'One will come to end us.' Come?"

"I'll end you," I mutter.

"How, Snow? With your great big, powerful sword?"

"Oh my god," I groan, burying my head against the duvet where it rests over his arm.

Also, more progress on my Between Simons piece for his bday. 👀👀👀

This was just before I added the lineart. Wasn’t sure how to make it look like the side Simons are projections and @tea-brigade and @gekkoinapeartree came in clutch with some great suggestions. In the end, I went with red outline and fine black interior outline, then I’ll just keep the pencil for the interior detail lines. And try an under layer of light red pencil. Lots of color testing ahead. Also, I feel obligated to say I did actually bother to draw in Simon’s hair before I lined this 😂

#wip wednesday #by any other name

21 notes · View notes

mtreebeardiles · 2 years

Note

❝ sometimes, i just need the world to be beautiful. i know how dark and ugly it can be but i just want to see something good and focus only on it for a few minutes. ❞

This one has been PERCOLATING for MONTHS and I have finally done the thing!

(sorry it took forever lol)

Also on AO3!

It was snowing again when Dorian left the warmth of the library.

Fluffy flurrying flakes seemed innocent enough as they landed on his robes and got in his hair, but too many of them too quickly paired with the biting cold of mountain air all but guaranteed a chill. He drew the material of his cloak all the more tightly against his body, head bowed, staff relegated to keeping his balance lest he truly embarrass himself with a tumble.

With Sera about, he would never hear the end of it.

Maybe he's visiting our mischievous friend.

Quintas wasn't above a bit of playfulness now and then, he'd learned, indulging the other elf's tendencies while somehow still offering her a bit of…restraint. The pranks grew more complicated as a result, anyway, some so puzzling that the end result was often a healthy dose of grudging admiration amid the irritation of their intended victims.

He's lucky Josephine is a kinder heart than I. It was the only reason, he suspected, that Sera hadn't tried going after his clothing.

Yet.

He kept his breeches under magical lock and key all the same.

But even as he contemplated the welcoming warmth of Skyhold's tavern, its upper windows festooned with colorful bits and bobs Sera had collected since taking up residence there, he knew it wasn't the right call. Too noisy, too crowded, too many eyes and ears and energy when he strongly suspected what their Inquisitor was after was…quiet.

A breath, even if it meant the inhalation of stinging cold air into his lungs.

Dorian turned away, gaze traveling along the tall stone walls penning them in on all sides, and tried not to let it feel so claustrophobic. Skyhold may not have been small in and of itself, but with great portions of it still in states of disrepair and the fact that it was secluded deep into the mountains…

It was hard not to feel trapped, sometimes.

Back in Haven it had been easier to just… get away for a little while. Put some space between themselves and the expectations others had of them. Lost under snow-heavy boughs, the sky a steel gray canopy barely visible and it was easy to pretend that the Breach wasn't a thing, that this wasn't their new reality. Pretend for just a moment that it was a casual stroll with an admittedly unlikely friend, their company more the purpose than a sense of escape.

Or, at least, Dorian liked to think so. He never was sure why Quintas went with him.

But if it was for any of those reasons, I'm not going to find you holed up inside somewhere.

Dorian huffed out a sigh, breath misting, and regarded the stone steps that rose before him with grim resignation.

----

It wasn't until he actually found Quintas that he began to doubt.

What if the Inquisitor had slipped away to spend some time alone? What if the people he wished to get some distance from included Dorian himself? A bit presumptuous, really, for him to assume otherwise, and while he firmly told himself it wasn't a case of nerves that had him rapidly reanalyzing every encounter they'd ever had since meeting back in Redcliffe it didn't do much for the knot his insides seemed intent on forming.

You are being ridiculous.

They were friends, certainly friendly, and maybe Quintas had been pulled away more and more since accepting the mantle of leadership, but that didn't mean he was pulling away. Their talents a bit different, trajectories bound to diverge now and again, and Dorian wasn't so starved for attention that he'd contemplate pining of all things.

He had his books, his theories, his magical acumen, more than enough reason to while away the days in the stronghold's library, and Quintas had…

Well.

Quintas had more qualifications to take charge of their ever-growing merry band of misfits than he suspected any of his advisors had expected. Maybe he didn't need to bark orders as Cullen and Cassandra did, but he was just as obviously firm in his convictions.

People tended to respond to that sort of thing.

And so what if Dorian had befriended him first? In the ways that mattered, at any rate, trading tales tall and true, more than a few of them shared over a bottle of wine or a game of chess. Quintas's recollection of his many journeys in the Free Marches, Dorian with his memories of the best his homeland had to offer. Harder discussions, too, Quintas seeing no need to pull any punches on the subjugation of his people, calling Dorian out on his attempts to equivocate one bad situation as being somewhat better than another. Slavery, alienages, it was all wrong no matter how prettily you tried to justify it, a belief Dorian had always held but never knew how to articulate without overstepping.

"Spend too much of your time trying to please everyone and you'll only guarantee hatred from all quarters."

An affront at the suggestion that Dorian would ever deign to please anyone, but it was all for show. He'd known it, Quintas had known it, and the way he'd bumped his shoulder against his had echoed in his thoughts the rest of the night. So many of his little quirks did, he found, smiles kept and savored, the way he'd catch his eye only to roll his own in good-nature whenever one of the chantry folk saw it fit to cluck at them over some perceived slight or lack of decorum. Outsiders, the pair of them, more kindred in spirit than Dorian had ever considered before.

And maybe that's why he didn't stop, didn't turn around and seek refuge in the library once more, warming his hands by a properly laid fire sheltered by the snow with a roof overhead and books to keep him company.

Maybe they really were friends, in that deeper sense than mere acquaintances, and friends checked up on each other, didn't they?

Maker knew Dorian had precious few left to want to look after his newest one.

"I was wondering when you were going to finish climbing up here."

A twitch at the corners of the elf's lips, blue eyes glinting as they glanced his way, and Dorian huffed in an affectation of annoyance. The ledge was wide, crenellations offering some modicum of safety from the edge, and Quintas seemed quiet content even as he watched Dorian's approach.

"Yes, well, one doesn't choose one's seat lightly in these conditions," the mage retorted with a sniff. Quintas's shoulders shook, his laugh muffled against a fist, and Dorian felt that knot begin to loosen.

"Put your cloak down first," he advised, "that ought to keep you warmer."

"And what would be protecting my arms, then!" Even so, Dorian was already doing as suggested, and his heart skipped a beat once he was settled and Quintas lifted what the mage now realized wasn't a cloak of his own, but a blanket.

"Always willing to share," Quintas said, shrugging. No pressure, never any pressure, but it wasn't the first time he'd made similar offers in Dorian's direction.

Dorian selfishly hoped this wouldn't be the last, as he always did, every single time, always gratified and maybe a little relieved when next time inevitably rolled around.

"This would be much nicer on a plush couch somewhere, you know," Dorian remarked even as he slipped under the blanket with him. Let it settle over their shoulders, drawing his knees up as Quintas had, letting their shared heat build and warm between them. "In front of a fire, perhaps with another bottle of wine…"

Quintas wrinkled his nose. "That wine is not nearly as good as the Orleisians make it out to be."

"Nothing on Elvish wine?"

"Dunno," Quintas replied with a shrug. "Never had any."

Dorian supposed that made sense for a largely nomadic society, though he had heard tell of more permanent establishments even amongst the Dalish. Not here, and not likely in Orlais, but Antiva, perhaps, or Rivain…

Far beyond what he or the Free Marcher would have seen, anyway.

"That's fine, I've got it on good authority that a shipment of Antivan brandy has made its way into Skyhold's stores…"

A quiet laugh. "Oh? Are we stealing it?"

"I figure if I'm to accept your mischief I may as well encourage it in a direction mutually beneficial to us both."

"'Mischief?'"

"I don't think we could rightly call it stealing -- stealing from whom? The Inquisition? Of which you are in charge?"

"Fair, fair," Quintas replied, holding up his hands. The mark was quiet today, Dorian noticed, its glow faint and hardly discernible beyond the confines of the glove Dagna had designed for him. "Best let Sera in on it then, before she gets antsy. I don't think Josie would forgive us if she was left sopping wet more than once."

"I do prefer our chaos to be contained."

"Don't let Sera hear you say that."

Quiet lapsed between them, the companionable kind, though for Quintas it seemed to be drawn inwards. Thoughts heavy with something, eyes focused on the view spread out before them: the sprawl of the mountains, purple dusk growing along the horizon, pockets of forest tucked amongst the jagged slopes. Breathtaking, and not simply because the air was so cold it couldn't help but steal the breath from their lungs should they inhale too deep.

What's bothering you, my friend?

"I wasn't sure you'd find me, you know," Quintas began after long moments had passed.

"Hmm?"

A sidelong glance, that wistful crooked half smile curving his lips, and Dorian waited.

"Not that I was hiding, I just… know it's not what we usually do. Did. Back in Haven, I mean."

"Thank the Maker for that," Dorian drawled, "getting a view like this would have required climbing something other than stairs and I'm afraid I was never much of an…outdoorsy type."

Quintas chuckled, and he bumped his shoulder to Dorian's -- sending a flash of heat through the mage's body, and Dorian swallowed against a dry throat.

"Oh, I don't know," Quintas replied. "You've gone on plenty of walks with me since we met, and not all of them for the sake of the Inquisition."

"Sake of a friend, sake of good company… that difference does make it easier to bear."

"I'm glad to hear it."

He fell quiet again, contemplative, gaze drawn back to the mountains once more.

"I think…aside from maybe Leiliana, of course… no one else would have guessed I'd come here." He turned then, catching Dorian with those light blue eyes, so like a clear stream in winter. "I was hoping you would, I suppose is what I'm trying to say."

"You were?"

"Not necessarily that you'd come find me," he clarified. "I didn't sneak away as some sort of game. Just… it occurred to me, after I got up here, that you might. And that I would very much like it if you did."

Dorian wasn't sure what to say, feeling warm all over in a way that left him far too aware of himself, of Quintas, of the things he thought about, sometimes, when he was alone and couldn't sleep. Angular features softened by a strong nose, auburn hair perpetually bearing evidence of the fingers that often ran through it, the way he'd smile and cock his head just so that always seemed to send a shiver down his spine. The playful, teasing glint he'd get in his eyes, for all it was absent now, replaced by something else, something deeper, something wistful and wanting that left Dorian wondering if perhaps he was imagining it, and if he wasn't...

"Yes, well," Dorian began, clearing his throat. "Couldn't very well leave you with your thoughts in this sort of weather for too long, could I?"

That smile again, slow and easy, and Quintas bumped his shoulder once more.

"True," the elf agreed. "It is a spot for getting lost in thought, after all."

"Where the Breach is hardest to see, and you can still admire the sky," Dorian murmured. Quintas blinked, turning to look at him again. Dorian cleared his throat once more, raising an eyebrow.

"You realize that's how I knew where to find you, yes? Perfectly mundane, perhaps, but tracking spells aren't easy and…well. Unnecessary, really, when you've… when you've got a good hunch."

"I had wondered if you'd pieced that together," Quintas admitted. He was smiling again, and this time when his shoulder met Dorian's he didn't quite pull away.

Neither did Dorian.

"It's only half the reason, though," the Inquisitor went on.

"Oh?"

He shifted, leaning back against the stone wall and tilting his head up. "Sometimes…I just need the world to be beautiful. I know how dark and ugly it can be but I just want to see something good and focus only on it for a few minutes," he explained after a moment. "Not seeing the Breach helps, of course."

"And did you find it? That…something good to focus on?" Dorian asked. Shifted to pull the blanket more securely about their shoulders, arm going around Quintas's to do so…and letting it rest there. Felt his heart skip another beat at the way the Inquisitor didn't move away, the way he moved closer, and maybe it was just good sense, just a better way to ensure they both stayed warm as night began to fall in earnest --

--And that face was turned up to him now, blue eyes on his, an expression hard to decipher for a man unaccustomed to being on the receiving end of it that left him almost dizzy --

"I have now," Quintas replied, and he was so, so close…

"What tipped the scales, do you think?" And at least he was smiling despite Dorian's internal berating. Fingertips cool against his chin, so gentle, warming slowly the way snowflakes never could, and he was caught in it, caught in the uproar of doubt and want and the reality of what was right in front of him.

"Being known," Quintas replied, "being seen."

A whisper, so close, so close, and he wouldn't recall, later, which of them initiated it -- perhaps it had been both of them. Leaning in, drawn together, a gossamer brush of lips, soft and a little cold --

"--you are freezing," Quintas murmured against him, and Dorian felt the unique thrill of feeling the curve of that smile far more intimately than he'd ever dared to dream. "Should we get you back inside?"

"Eventually," he replied, and he was smiling too, his nose gently bumping Quintas's and earning a soft laugh. "But I won't say no if you'd like to keep warming me up."

His answer was, as he'd hoped, another kiss.

#my writing #prompt fill #Dragon Age: Inquisition #Male Lavellan x Dorian Pavus #Lavellan x Dorian #Quintas Lavellan (OC)#Dorian Pavus #Quintas x Dorian #still voice testing with these two but I like how this one came out so far

7 notes · View notes

the-firebird69 · 1 year

Text

So BJ says I care for you to Island right away or too soon anyone's wondering why and really this a ton of fighting over Tommy F and his stuff is one thing they have other evil plans but that's happening anyways and we agree if you if you go to the island you're through in just a few minutes and America is kind of a place where all races can come or feel they can and they are actually so they're going to do this and isolate themselves it's usually not too good but and they're talking about donut hole and they're threatening it and the threatening our son with it and saying that Mac can't put his ships up. iMac is saying I will anyways and you'll have to endure it or something and they're saying no what our son says is so put it up there cuz you won't stop it and you're inspiring it. And they do inspire it they say a lot of dumb s*** there's a one giant idiot. And it's a Steve the tour guide at Rick Steve and he's out there it's a bunch of trumpsters around him and Trump is walking around as a giant and they usually have one too and it's one of them down there in New Zealand and our senses the only problem I can kill all of them quite easily they don't like it but it's true oh my God the momentum and speed much higher than I thought. This is proceeding now and there's a negotiation and there is a big conversation going on and it's in the NATO building and stuff and really it's smart you have to keep your stuff with you most people put in their bed too cuz they realize people trying to get in there. And then you sleep after they say you're paranoid and stuff and he goes and puts it there sleeps I can hear him complaining we got rest I said that's awesome and it really sucks people here bother people so much

There are several waves of people trying to invade there's 100,300,008 million 10 million and then there's 3 billion from the north and 4 billion from the south and it has been more than that but it started up again today and they took a huge loss literally they're dogs like four or five million globally and that's why they're having a meeting that meeting will be done in a few moments and they will have to come up with what they're going to do are they going to relocate are they going to evacuate and that's what's going on. Their decision is going to come later today and we already have our side ready you're not trying to see what they're doing but it's later this afternoon and this morning Mac had a meeting anyways went ahead with stuff and so are we Max are going to lay off those police and firemen and sheriff that we know to before and other agencies including Federal and we are beginning those projects that we said we're beginning and we're doing it today and I want all in we're going to have a big meeting right now my son and daughter got done a great job under extreme duress is very touchy because everyone's after teeny panties it's ridiculous he's right it's way too much

Thor Freya

It's true that we have a lot of problems we need some help and we need some attention but he says the whole time there's tons of people doing it and our people underdressed too so going through it and he says it's going to get harder so I'm doubling under and I'm understanding something I have a team here and it helping me I'm going in with a positive attitude

Hera

Zues

You got to help to pull off and we helped him a little and then he was doing himself and went a bit far with it it looks like he's testing to see what they're up to cuz you can't trust them and it turns out that they're at each other and it doesn't have any value for him and we understand that and it's true

Olympus

0 notes

radioactive-earthshine · 2 years

Note

Your post about Conner's fashion changes was such an informative and thoughtful analysis and it made me wonder if it is even canon to call him punk in the first place? I never questioned it before. I aslo regrettably have not read his solo series so I am one of those guilty fans that are uninformed about their faves and just go with what everyone else says is true.

Hoo boy... This got longer than I intended to because fashion is something I have a keen interest in so you brought this on yourself but THANK YOU for the compliment and the question that allowed me to explore this.

Anyway...

This is actually a very good debate someone can have about Kon because when you examine what a "punk" is from a fashion and social perspective Kon's first look in the 90s does fit the bill but then when we examine some other details things are not quite so clear. Punk fashion in the early 90s compared to now has not changed too much; they still incorporate mixed media and textures such as leather and denim paired with metal elements such as spikes, studs, chains and accessories like belts and bondage visuals or death imagery. Ripped jeans, worn leather, elements of goth and grunge fashion with the use of makeup and piercings/jewelry all were still very common then as they are now. There are some differences with punk fashion of today compared to then, but you could look at a 90s punk from back then and know immediately what the fashion style they were projecting. So let's take a close look at Kon. Warning TW for some mild homophobia references for attitudes in the 90s regarding some fashion.

Superboy #18 Kon's got the hair, the belts, the leather jacket, the red gloves, the ear piercing and the Lenin glasses which are all in their summation indicative of punk fashion even if it is not as loud as some other examples. Back in the 90s this this was probably as punk as they could get away with for a Superman title. If you have some copies of the comics that include the letters to the editor at the end of each issue you will see how so many people had complaint with Kon's earring over everything else, with some citing their hesitation with his hair but it was mostly his earring that they just couldn't stand. Earrings on men back in the 80s and early 90s were generally considered incredibly edgy and you were either a punk, gay or some sort of deviant from society if you were a boy and you had an earring.

However even those that had earrings there was a saying that was very common back then; if you're old enough or just well read you might remember it. "Left is right, right is wrong." What this was implying that if you were a boy and wanted a piecing you had better get it done on the left side only because the right side made you gay. No I am not making this up. However even with this ridiculous fashion rule for piercings there were an insurmountable amount of people that regarded ANY piercing on a boy to be too edgy, too gay, too out of the ordinary and it was one of the most rebellious, punkish kickass things a teenage boy could do that didn't involve ink, drugs or alcohol or something illegal. One of the key highlights of punk culture is to make people mad about the right things, to question authority, to dare, to rebel, to talk loud about shit that's not right and to live authentically; Kon achieved this in his iconic look on virtue that his look was so heavily rejected for a long time until the audience started paying attention to his adventures and who he was. Kon's hero look is punk, and he did have his punk attitude moments (such as mouthing off to authority and just doing what he wanted even if it got him into trouble.) So yes, it is fair to label him as punk. However... There's is another point of evidence that shakes this up a bit. When he is not in his hero suit, and when he changes his hero look, there is almost no indication that Kon is actually attached to that rebel punk look. Here are some examples of what Kon dresses in when he's NOT in his punk hero suit in his solo 90s series c. 1995.

From: Superboy #18, #24 & #25. There's no real recognizable indication while he is in civilian clothes that he is punk other than his piercing, and one piercing although rebellious does not make him necessarily a "punk." His civilian clothes are quite common, boring and dull and typical of the 1990s. Bart's wardrobe is legendary and Kon's... is not in the comics. It's really striking how much of a kid Kon really looks when he is dressed in his civilian clothes and it is something I appreciate as he is supposed to be only 16 physically. An argument to make for punk Kon-El always is fair even in the face that none of his civilian clothes point to being punk or rebellious in nature because as stated in the post that inspired this question Kon's core identity for the longest time was circulated around being Superboy. Superboy, suit and all, WAS WHO HE WAS. He didn't have a secret identity, no civilian life, no name even until issue #59 Superboy was him trademarked packed and sealed. As time went on for Kon his outfits shifted, he got a secret identity as Conner Kent and we never saw any element of his punk fashion again really. He remained in his new iconic jeans and a t-shirt "uniform" from 2003 - 2011 and in nearly all other media his character was depicted in that particular uniform. So the argument again can be made if he perhaps WAS punk but then grew out of it, as is typical of teenagers (I used to be a grunge fashion baby but that stopped.)

From: Superboy #76, #83 and Red Robin #09

Finally the last pieces of evidence and our closing arguments come together when Kon finally comes back into continuity in Young Justice 2019... This time the writers and artists did something to almost answer this question and put it to rest on what Kon is.

When Kon finally comes back into continuity in 2019 after being in comic limbo for so long (7 years I think) we see him in civilian clothing that has a nod towards punk fashion with the addition of this fantastic and clearly PUNK jacket.

Kon wears this jacket in addition to his jeans and t-shirt hero look before he got himself zapped to Gemworld as a sort of hybrid to the two iconic looks that we relate to Kon-El Kent. And while on Gemworld Kon lives as a farmer but also finds the time to make his own new clothes which is the upgraded, more punkified version of his original design as seen below.

Kon's newest design is something he made himself (whereas his original design he did not) and has more ties to punk with more metallic elements, mixed media and military boots. Kon came sort of full circle with the new comics and in the newer comics Kon has more of a self identity than he did to start with in the original and more direct affirmations to that he is a Kent, he is also Kon and he also has a tie to being punk. So yes, I do think he is punk and it is fair to call him punk.

#kon el #kon-el #conner kent #superboy #young justice #young just us #superfam #fashion #90s fashion #yo i wanted to show some 90s punk fashion but image limit killed it #meta #dc comics #sam i still think you're sending me these asks just come clean #mine

471 notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

JC adopts stray/rouge cultivators after the war au to cope with the destruction of lotus pier. also i love your writing so much!!

Gratuitously Acquired - ao3

At first, he took anyone who would join, needing numbers – needing people. There were plenty of cultivators that wanted to be associated with a great sect. Plenty, too, that were barely more than criminals, wanting to use the smoke and ash of war to obscure the past, to cover up old crimes and wash themselves clean.

Jiang Cheng wasn’t in any position to refuse them. Soldiers were soldiers.

After the war ended, though…

Some he cast out. Others, even more despicable, he slaughtered for what they’d done.

A few –

“Yan Qiao.”

The female cultivator in question, who had been sneaking out of the still mostly ruined Lotus Pier at night in flagrant violation of curfew, froze in her tracks.

“Uh,” she said. “Sect Leader Jiang. Fancy finding you…here…now…at this time…”

Jiang Cheng looked at the basket of buns in her hands. “You’re stealing leftovers from our kitchens to feed orphans among the common people,” he said. “Again.”

She blushed. “No one wants them now that there’s better available, Sect Leader! Really, they’ll only go stale, and then rot – and I never stole when it was the army eating them!”

“That’s not the point,” Jiang Cheng said irritably. “Tell me, how in the name of heavens did you really get branded as a criminal? Distributed too many alms? Did too much charity?”

Yan Qiao coughed, turning red. “I told you before, Sect Leader. I killed a man.”

“He must have done something particularly heinous, then. You’re shitat killing.”

“Now I am. Sect Leader, if you don’t mind…”

“You’re one of the ones who wants my surname, right?” he interrupted. “Consider it granted.”

Yan Qiao – no, he supposed he’d better start thinking of her as Jiang Qiao – gaped at him. “But…Sect Leader!”

“I’ve barely granted it to anyone, so you’d better live up to it, you hear me?” Jiang Cheng said in his best threatening voice. He’d been assured by several people that it was really quite threatening, anyway. “I don’t want any excuses. Now go feed your damn orphans, and in the morning I want a report on how you think we can do it in a more structured manner. I can’t have you sneaking off every night anymore! Now that you’re a Jiang, you’re going to have work.”

When they were done with war and started firmly on rebuilding, the Jiang sect’s name was firmly reestablished as a Great Sect once more, it was the opportunists that came.

Smiling faces, sycophantic voices, cowards one and all – like beetles crawling out of the woodwork, not willing to risk their lives, but willing enough to beg for scraps and advantages later on when it seemed safe enough to do so.

Jiang Cheng wanted to chase them all away, but his sect was still weaker than he wanted to admit, still rebuilding, still more army than civilian operation. They had valiant soldiers by the dozen, but they needed more than that. They needed administrators, supervisors, artisans, smiths, merchants, laundry-women…

They needed workers. The ones they got – well, cowards they might be, but skills they had.

He still rejected most of the worst of them.

Most.

“Bo Zhou,” he said, inspecting the surprisingly flush list of taxes they’d collected that quarter, and the man in question turned to grin unrepentantly at him. “You’d tell me if you were a con artist in a previous life, right?”

“A previous life, Sect Leader?” Bo Zhou said. He was still grinning, but then, he was always grinning. He had a crooked leg and an even more crooked heart, and he’d probably steal candy from little children if he happened to have a hankering, but he was amazing at getting people to do what he wanted. Too amazing, really. “Why limit yourself? What about thislife?”

“…Bo Zhou. Tell me you aren’t a former con artist.”

“I may or may not have had a sideline selling snake oil and protective talismans before I became a cultivator,” Bo Zhou admitted cheerfully, and Jiang Cheng pinched the bridge of his nose – less out of actual irritation and more to keep from actually laughing. The only person he knew that was more shameless than Bo Zhou was Wei Wuxian; he couldn’t wait to introduce them once Wei Wuxian stopped skulking around in wine shops long enough to get back to doing his job as Jiang Cheng’s head disciple and right hand. “Who would’ve known that making all those fake talismans ended up making me pretty good at making actual talismans when I became a cultivator? Really, who could have called that?”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “Who taught you how to cultivate, anyway? Can I – I don’t know – seek vengeance on behalf of the rest of the world or something?”

Bo Zhou rolled his eyes right back at him. Shameless! “Is this about the taxes? Just be happy I got them all!”

“I can’t just be happy! What if this money is stolen property?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Sect Leader. They’re what we shouldbe getting, and from all the right people. You told me this was the right amount yourself!”

“Yes, but no one ever actually pays the full amount!” Jiang Cheng enjoyed the way Bo Zhou’s jaw dropped. “I just wanted to see if you could actually do it.”

“I’m hurt at your lack of trust.” Bo Zhou paused, considering. “Also a little impressed at you for keeping a straight enough face to trick me. Well done, Sect Leader.”

“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng said. “You too, Jiang Zhou.”

“It’s Bo…” He trailed off, comprehension arriving and speech departing, and this time he didn’t have a quick retort. He’d been nagging Jiang Cheng on and off for the Jiang surname for the last few weeks, more joking than anything else – he knew that Jiang Cheng hadn’t given his surname to the vast majority of the new people in his sect, only the very few he thought were worth it.

Jiang Cheng enjoyed the newly dubbed Jiang Zhou’s moment of speechlessness thoroughly, since he was moderately sure he wasn’t going to get another one anytime in the next – ever, possibly.

“You proved your worth and your trustworthiness,” he said, patting Jiang Zhou on the shoulder. It occurred to him that he should probably come up with a courtesy name for the man, although he wasn’t sure the man would want one. “Also, congratulations, you’re now the person in charge of tax collection. See if you can think up some new thoughts about supplementing our income, will you? We have so many costs, and I don’t want to rely on Lanling Jin more than I can help it, not like Gusu Lan…”

“Oh, really?” Jiang Zhou interrupted, abruptly excited. “I have so many ideas! How ethical do you want to be about this?”

Jiang Cheng paused. “…very?”

“Be reasonable, Sect Leader!”

“…moderately?” he tried, a little more desperately.

“I can work with moderately. I don’t suppose you’d accept ‘thin and barely plausible veneer’?”

“No.”

“Oh well. Moderately ethical it is!”

Most of the Jiang sect was slaughtered during the attack on the Lotus Pier. Disciples Jiang Cheng had grown up with his whole life, had expected to see by his side in the future, his friends, his family, even his petty childhood enemies – all gone.

Well, not all gone. There were some Jiang disciples that had been away from Lotus Pier at the time, whether on some errand or a night-hunt or other reasons; they rushed back to his side as soon as they could, of course, and formed the core of Jiang Cheng’s new Jiang sect. When he’d felt utterly alone, when even Wei Wuxian was missing, they had been there for him. They’d preserved their lives and then they’d promised them to him, and it wasn’t until they knelt before him that he really felt like a Sect Leader.

There was no way he could give any of them up now.

“Jiang Meimei, you can’t go,” he said, having completely abandoned all shame in favor of clutching at her robes as if he were a child. “I need you!”

“I’m not even a proper Jiang disciple!” she exclaimed, exasperated – or possibly just annoyed that her grand plan to sneak out in the middle of the night had been stymied by his ambush. “Just because my surname is still Jiang doesn’t mean I didn’t get kicked out, remember?”

“I thought you just left,” Jiang Cheng said, temporarily distracted. “No one ever really talked much about it, actually, but to the extent anyone did, they said that you’d decided that your inclinations were more suited to being a rogue cultivator. That you didn’t want to be weighed down by sect expectations –”

“Hah!” Jiang Meimei tossed her head. “As if it wouldn’t be better to be a roving sect cultivator than a rogue cultivator! I won’t deny that I had a fair bit of wanderlust in my youth –”

“You’re only ten years older than me, you’re not that old.”

“Shut up, brat.”

“You can’t tell me to shut up, I’m your sect leader.”

“You’re my baby cousin is what you are, and, again, I’m actually not part of the Jiang sect!”

“That’s ridiculous,” Jiang Cheng argued. “You’ve been at my side during the entire Sunshot Campaign.”

“I wasn’t going to let my baby cousin get himself murdered, now was I?” Jiang Meimei sniffed. “But I’m still a rogue cultivator. They kicked me out when I wouldn’t accept a marriage, and I’m still firm on that.”

Jiang Cheng blinked. “Wait, you don’t want to be married? Really?” he asked, concerned. “But what about poor Liu Lingling? You shouldn’t be sleeping with her if you don’t intend to be serious about it! I’m pretty sure she’s just waiting for the current project you’re working on to finish to find a matchmaker to exchange birth characters –”

“They wanted me to marry a man,” Jiang Meimei clarified, but her habitual frown had eased considerably; she looked almost on the verge of a smile. “A-Cheng, you’re being dense again. You’re the Sect Leader of a Great Sect now. You know that that means you need to have alliances, marriage contacts with other sects, and that means using your subsidiary branches.”

“Jiang Meimei, you’re the one being dense,” Jiang Cheng said. “You think I’d force you into a marriage? I don’t have subsidiary branches. I barely have a sect, even after all this time. I’m not Wen Ruohan, handing out my surname to anyone who wants it – I only give it to the ones that matter, the ones I want to keep, and those of you that actually share my blood are even rarer, even more precious. How could I give you away?”

Jiang Meimei pursed her lips.

“I really do need you,” Jiang Cheng said quietly. “You weren’t part of the Jiang sect at all, not really, but you still came to help me – you were there from the beginning of the Sunshot Campaign, and you’ve never strayed, never left. You’re my right hand. I can’t do without you.”

Jiang Meimei turned her head away. “It’s not that I want to leave you,” she said. “But becoming a rogue cultivator was hard enough the first time. I couldn’t rely on any of the things that I had always had, everything always changing. I was young and angry then, I could handle it, but things are different now. I’m less flexible, less compromising, older, more tired – I can’t just walk out on a whim and just rough it anymore. I have a girl who, yes, I want to eventually marry; I want to have children. I need certainty. Are you going to give it to me?”

Jiang Cheng looked down at his hands. He’d known it was going to have to come to this, but he’d been dragging his feet, not wanting to succumb to a reality that already existed. Had existed for longer than he wanted to admit, as if simply denying it would mean that it wasn’t the truth.

Like a child.

“Yes,” he said, though it tore his heart out of his chest to do it. “I will. Jiang Meimei…will you take the position of Head Disciple?”

Wei Wuxian wasn’t coming back. Jiang Cheng had already cast him out of the sect, just like Jiang Meimei had been, except in Wei Wuxian’s case it had been something that Wei Wuxian himself had demanded. He was living in Yiling now, and by all reports was quite happy there with his little Wen sect family that he’d picked over Jiang Cheng and all his family.

He was never coming back.

It was time to move on.

“Yes,” she said, and shoved her pack into his chest. “Now go unpack that for me. Consider it payment for driving me to extreme measures!”

“I’m your sect leader, you know,” he grumbled. “Officially, now. You could show me some respect.”

“Would you rather pay for my wedding down the line?”

“I’m going, I’m going!” And then, as he scurried over away, he shouted over his shoulder: “As if I wouldn’t be paying for it anyway! You think my Head Disciple’s going to be married in anything other than top style? Better start planning…”

“Don’t rush me! Brat!”

Jin Ling wasn’t surnamed Jiang, but he was the most important person in all of the Lotus Pier – and Jiang Cheng wanted to make sure everyone knew it. It hadn’t been easy for him to get the chance to help care for Jin Ling, especially here, so far away from home; Jiang Cheng had expected to barely be allowed to visit, to have to cool his heels outside of Lanling City begging just for a glimpse of him. Being able to take him home to raise for half the year, even if it was due to the dangerous infighting amongst Lanling Jin, was more than he’d ever dreamed.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t clear that Jin Ling himself agreed.

“He’s still crying,” Jiang Cheng muttered, rubbing his eyes. “Surely he’s got to stop sometime? I mean, just – physically?”

“They say a boy resembles his mother’s brother,” Jiang Meimei said, echoing the gesture. “If he’s got your lungs and stamina, Sect Leader, we’re doomed.”

“I’m rethinking the whole having children thing,” Liu Lingling said blearily, having fallen asleep on her soon-to-be wife’s shoulder several times, only to be woken up by the next round of crying. “I need sleep.”

“Go get some, both of you,” Jiang Cheng ordered. When his cousin scowled at him, he scowled back. “I’m serious. If he keeps this up, we’re going to need to go into shifts. I can last a bit longer.”

“That’s a filthy lie.”

“It is not. Your sect leader has given you an order – get to it!”

It was a filthy lie.

Jiang Cheng opened his eyes when the crink in his neck grew too irritating to ignore, at which point he realized he’d been asleep – and, more importantly, that Jin Ling was somehow not crying.

He sat up with a start, suddenly terrified: had something happened to him? Had he been silenced forever? Had Jiang Cheng failed this one last duty he had to his sister?

“Shhh, little one,” someone was whispering, not far away. “Let me tell you the one about the Weaver Girl and the Cowherd, yeah? You seem like someone who’d appreciate stars. It all started –”

Jiang Cheng went to go look.

A teenage girl was rocking Jin Ling in her arms and telling him a story in murmured tones, and Jin Ling was yawning and trying to gnaw on her shirt. She wasn’t even a cultivator, as far as Jiang Cheng could tell. Her clothing suggested some level of poverty, her accent the countryside – how’d she even end up here?

He wasn’t sure he cared.

Jiang Cheng didn’t want to disturb her, but he did anyway; a shift of his weight, a scuffling of his feet, and the floor creaked. The girl jumped, startled, but luckily Jin Ling was already most of the way asleep and just grumbled a little instead of starting to screech.

“How’d you do that?” Jiang Cheng asked, nodding at Jin Ling. “Make him stop crying.”

“My mother had seven kids after me,” the girl said, answering automatically. “And her sister had six. Someone had to learn to deal with all those babies, and it ended up being me. Think it’s just habit after this long.”

Jiang Cheng couldn’t handle one baby. He couldn’t even imagine.

That’s when the girl seemed to remember herself, and bit her lip. “Uh, sorry,” she said, hanging her head. “I heard him crying and I couldn’t resist...I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to be here. It was an accident.”

“How did you get here?” Jiang Cheng asked, because accidental or not, a security breach was still a security breach. “And who are you, anyway?”

“My name’s A-Hua. I’m here to work in the kitchens, just got hired this morning; the fourth cook is my uncle’s wife’s cousin, she got me a job, said it was a good place to start – I was trying to find my way out so I could go to the servant’s quarters to get some sleep, but then I got lost…”

More likely she’d decided it was better to try to stay somewhere indoors than go out in the pouring rain to try to find her way to the right set of quarters, Jiang Cheng thought to himself. “Give me your hand.”

“Uh. What?”

He ignored her stare, took her hand and felt her pulse. There was a little bit of natural talent there, though not much; she might, if she tried hard enough, become a cultivator, but she’d never be more than a servant.

Unless, of course, she did something unusual to impress someone.

“Forget the kitchens,” Jiang Cheng told her. “You’re hired on a provisional basis to keep an eye on Jin Ling.”

The girl nodded, eyes wide as saucers. “Can you – do that?”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “Yes, I can. What’s your surname? You can’t go around being called A-Hua, we have at least seven people that I know of that go by that name.”

The girl looked distressed.

She probably didn’t have a proper surname. Some people in the countryside didn’t.

But they really couldn’t go around shouting “A-Hua” every time Jin Ling was crying, which was basically all the time.

“Fine,” he said, giving in. “Do well, and I’ll consider letting you use mine. But only if you do well!”

Jiang Cheng was covered in mud thanks to a successful-but-at-what-cost night hunt and angry about it, stomping around the lotus pools on his way back to town, when he heard the familiar sounds of someone having a panic attack.

He slowed, involuntarily, and took a look: it was some teenager dressed in black, heaving miserably by a tree.

Jiang Meimei had once said that Jiang Cheng was a bit weak when it came to teenagers.

Jiang Cheng said that was nonsense.

Jiang Hua chimed in, quite loyally (if perhaps not with the best timing), and said he wasn’t.

Jiang Cheng yielded the argument at once to keep Jiang Meimei from laughing herself sick.

In view of that, he was better off ignoring the kid. After all, what was it to him that some kid was having a fit of anxiety right next the same old lotus pool that he used to have his own teenage fits of anxiety next to, under the shade of the same old tree that had sheltered him – one of the few places that remained untouched by the Wen sect’s aggression, one of the few places that was exactly the same?

Jiang Cheng groaned and walked over. “Okay, fine. What’s your problem?”

The kid looked up at him. He had dark circles under his eyes. “I think my heart’s about to explode.”

“That’s just the anxiety,” Jiang Cheng said, and sat down next to him. “What’s causing the anxiety? Don’t say that someone is better than you and your parents are disappointed in you.”

“What?” the kid blinked. “No, it’s not – it’s not that. I’m about to screw up the very first job I ever got.”

Jiang Cheng considered that. It was just different enough from his own issues that he didn’t suspect a plot, and yet close enough that he might actually be able to offer some expertise.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked reluctantly.

“Not to some mud-man,” the kid said, and – hey! It wasn’t that bad. He thought, anyway. Actually, it probably was that bad. “I just…I’m the only one left. I have to make something of myself!”

Jiang Cheng’s eye twitched. “What do you mean, you’re the only one left?”

The kid stuttered through his story. It wasn’t as bad as Jiang Cheng had initially feared, but it was still pretty bad – his small village had had bad harvests, and there had been starvation, a bad winter; the kid had been sent out to get help, but it had taken too long and he’d arrived back to find them all already gone. He’d been lost, but some traveling cultivator had agreed to take him on as a disciple provided he proved himself, had taught him all sorts of skills, cultivation and talisman-writing and music –

“Music?” Jiang Cheng asked. “Not the sword?”

“There was only the one,” the kid explained. “Obviously he kept it for himself.”

Jiang Cheng didn’t think much of that – surely this cultivator, whoever he ws, could have shared, just long enough to teach? – but he didn’t comment. It seemed fairly clear that the kid didn’t actually think very highly of his teacher, although he was very earnestly trying to be appropriately filial.

It was a little cute.

“…and I was supposed to wait here for someone when they came by here, some fancy rich person, and then get them to follow me, but it’s been ages and no one’s come by at all!” the kid wailed. “I’m such a screw up!”

“You don’t even know who you’re waiting for?” Jiang Cheng asked, and the kid shook his head. “How were you supposed to get them to follow you, then?”

The kid scratched his nose. “My master said that if I showed off some of my cultivation, they’d follow me right away.”

Jiang Cheng suppressed a smirk. “It must be very impressive cultivation, then.”

“…not really. I only know one trick,” the kid admitted. “But it’s not that hard, and it looks impressive – here, see, wait; give me a second, I just need to whistle –”

Zidian crackled to life on Jiang Cheng’s finger before the kid finished the first stanza.

“Stop that!” he cried out, leaping to his feet, and – startled – the kid stopped, blinking owlishly at him. “Is that what your master taught you?!”

“Yes?” the kid said. “Did I do it wrong?”

Jiang Cheng gnashed his teeth. “That’s demonic cultivation. Never do that, okay? Ever.”

“But then how am I supposed to get the fancy rich person to follow me, assuming he ever showed?”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes narrowed. If he hadn’t tripped over that branch and fallen into the mud – if he hadn’t taken an extra half-shichen to struggle out of the mire – if he’d walked by in all his usual finery, rich person that he was, and seen some kid practicing demonic cultivation…

He’d have given chase in a heartbeat.

More to the point, everyone knew he would. His reputation had been pretty much set in stone by this point.

“Let’s go find that master of yours,” he said. “Right now.”

Of course, that ended up leading Jiang Cheng straight into the bastard’s trap, which would have been a problem except that he’d taken the time to send someone to tell Jiang Qiao, who’d been waiting for him back in town, that he’d be a bit late and not to worry, just wait where she was.

She’d ignored his instructions and arrived just in time to knife the demonic cultivator – a human trafficker whose operations Jiang Cheng had shut down with extreme viciousness only a few months before – right in the belly, gutting him like a fish in a swift easy motion.

“I think I’m getting the hang of it again,” she said, smiling at the knife, and Jiang Cheng made a mental note to ask exactly how manymen she’d killed to get that criminal brand of hers, except the poor kid was sinking down to his knees with a horrified look and, shit, that horrible bastard, evil as he might have been, was probably the last person the kid had in this whole rotten world, wasn’t he?

“Does Jiang Hua still have those beginner manuals we dug up for her?” Jiang Cheng asked, and Jiang Qiao nodded. “Good. Tell her that starting today, Jiang Jianwen here’s her little brother. She’s been pining over raising someone ever since Jin Ling got to be too old to snuggle.”

The kid looked up with wide eyes.

“No, you don’t get a choice on the name,” Jiang Cheng told him. “Whatever name this piece of crap gave you, just forget it, you hear me? You can do better than him. But no more demonic cultivation!”

“I wish I could visit the Lotus Pier,” Wei Wuxian mumbled, looking wistfully downriver. They were very close by, but he still didn’t dare, even though Jiang Cheng had grumpily extended an invitation through Jin Ling. So much had happened – he just didn’t know where to even start.

He didn’t want to get into all that messy history with Jiang Cheng.

He just wanted to visit, that’s all.

He missed Jiang Cheng, but he missed the Lotus Pier, too. The food, the places, the air…

“I just need a secret way in that even the sect leader doesn’t know about,” he sighed. He’d once known them all – but there was a different sect leader now, and a different Lotus Pier. He couldn’t risk it: Jiang Cheng might find out that he’d snuck in and feel hurt, thinking that Wei Wuxian was avoiding him, when he was just avoiding the conversation; that would just make everything worse.

Lan Wangji would have distracted him, but Lan Wangji himself had been distracted – some man in Jiang sect colors with a heavy limp and an excited sort of air had rushed over, shouting something about wanting to talk about tax policy and possibly also games of chance, and Lan Wangji had all but fled. It had been so funny that Wei Wuxian had nearly laughed himself sick.

“I know one,” someone said, and Wei Wuxian glanced over: it was a young man in Jiang sect disciple robes, little more than a teenager – only a few years older than Jin Ling, if he had to guess. He was smiling, ducking his head a little; he looked proud of himself. “I mean, if you really want. But only if you don’t mean any harm!”

How adorable, Wei Wuxian thought, and grinned at him. “I just want something spicy without having to go through the whole process of greeting people, is that a crime?”

“Not at all!” the kid exclaimed, beaming, and Wei Wuxian almost felt bad for conning him. Almost.

“Do you really know a secret way in?” he asked, pretending to be doubtful. “Really?”

Sure enough, the kid – Jiang Jianwen, apparently, he must be the kid of one of the ones that survived the massacre – was easily lured into insisting that he did know, and then to agreeing to act as guide.

And, moreover, it turned out he really did know his way inside, which made this the easiest infiltration ever.

Or so Wei Wuxian thought right up until he felt a knife point touch his ribs.

“Well done, Jianwen!” a young woman – also in Jiang colors – said, reaching out and ruffling Jiang Jianwen’s hair.

“Aw, it was nothing,” he said, just as bashful as he was when he’d been talking to Wei Wuxian. “I couldn’t have done it without shixiong luring off Lan-er-gongzi.”

Wait, that’d been part of this, too?

That was worrisome.

“Hardly nothing,” the older woman standing behind Wei Wuxian said. She had a certain sort of rock-hard steadiness that was more worrying than the knife she was holding on him – she was a powerful cultivator, familiar with killing and scarred with a criminal’s brand, and yet she seemed entirely at ease in a way that suggested a strong sense of righteousness, with no guilt or weak points he might exploit to make an easy out. “You successfully conned the Yiling Patriarch into following you right into a trap.”

Wei Wuxian wondered if he could deny it.

“I don’t know, shijie, that doesn’t seem that hard,” the first woman said. “Isn’t he the kind of person to run head-first into danger at the first instance?”

“Head-first into danger, and like his tail’s on fire away from dogs,” the older woman agreed, and – damnit. There was clearly no denying it; they actually knew him. Though from where, he had no idea. “A-Hua, Jiangwen, let’s go – we don’t want to be late for our meeting.”

“I don’t suppose I can convince you to tell me who we’re going to go see?” Wei Wuxian tried, putting on his most charming smile. “Or, perhaps, who you are, and what you have against me…?”

“Jiang Jianwen you know,” the woman said, rather unexpectedly. “I’m Jiang Qiao, and this is Jiang Hua. Our shixiong is Jiang Zhou – he’s the one that makes Lan-er-gongzi lose his wallet every time he’s forced to visit Yunmeng.”

Wei Wuxian was almost distracted with the tantalizing prospects of stories about Lan Wangji. Almost.

“You’re all surnamed Jiang?” he asked, surprised: he might have believed it for Jiang Jianwen, maybe, he was young enough to be the son of someone in the last generation. But Jiang Hua and Jiang Qiao looked absolutely nothing alike either to each other or to Jiang Cheng, and at least Jiang Qiao was old enough that he should’ve recognized her if she’d been a Jiang. There’d been a lot of people in the old Jiang sect, even if you limited it to those surnamed Jiang, but he’d been Head Disciple back then – he’d known almost all of them.

“We’re adopted,” Jiang Jianwen said. He looked very proud. “Sect Leader Jiang took us into the family as part of the branch lines.”

Wei Wuxian had never once in his life wanted to have the surname Jiang, not even when he’d been mocked for not having it. He’d never even thought about it. Not ever.

He felt a stab of envy at the word family, though.

“He gave you his surname?” he asked, and tried not to feel jealous when they all nodded. “Oh.”

It made sense, he tried to tell himself as they walked through the back streets of the Lotus Pier. The Jiang sect had been demolished, and Jiang Cheng practically the only survivor but for whoever happened by coincidence to not be at home – the Jiang sect would need branch family members, and adoption made sense. There was no reason to resent the idea of Jiang Cheng giving the name he had always treated as being so precious to a branded former criminal, to a con man, to a commoner from the countryside, to a –

“You were a what?” Wei Wuxian exclaimed.

“A demonic cultivator,” Jiang Jianwen said bashfully. “Not a very a good one, though.”

Wei Wuxian wanted to say something to that. He didn’t know what, but something.

“Enough chatter,” Jiang Qiao said. “We’re here.”

Jiang Hua opened the door and Wei Wuxian stepped inside.

Then he tried to step back out, only to be crowded in by the others.

“No, no, no,” he said. “No, I was willing to play along until now, but this is a step too far. You don’t understand! She’s going to eviscerate me!”

Jiang Meimei – older than the teenager he remembered her being when she left the sect, but still unmistakable – grinned with her teeth bared.

“Oh good,” she said. “At least your brain is still working. Now come on and have a seat, and we’re going to talk about how you’ve been treating my baby cousin recently…”

#mdzs #jiang cheng #original characters #wei wuxian #my fic #my fics #gratuitously acquired

363 notes · View notes

shinescape · 3 years

Text

Hawk Eyes

Bodyguard Seonghwa x Reader

Requested!

note: i might have went overboard with this one (jk). Thank you for the request anon and enjoy the read!

At this point, you thought that the stares and murmurs would die down but apparently not so. The other students really made it obvious that they were whispering about you or more like the person following behind you.

It was ridiculous but your father being the protective person he was assigned you a personal bodyguard. You honestly didn’t want it but the Park Family has a history of working with your family and Seonghwa was no exception.

He took his job quite seriously since he was trained at a very young age. Both of you went to the same school and even then he would make sure that no one bullied or pulled pranks on you.

One time you walked into the classroom and a bucket of flour poured onto you had him furious. He was still in training back then but somehow he already ingrained in his head that he needed to protect you at all cost.

You were currently walking in the busy hallways to your morning class. The crowd always made you feel anxious and uncomfortable but knowing that Seonghwa was right behind put you at ease.

A group of boys were goofing around as they approached you and one of them accidently pushed you to the lockers with his body.

Instead of hitting the lockers, the side of your head was cushioned by a palm. Thanks to Seonghwa’s fast reflexes and close proximity, your head was saved but the group of boys wasn’t.

Seonghwa stood in front of the group and glared at them, he knew they were trying to act like nothing happened when the guy who pushed you knew exactly what he did was on purpose. He was taller and looked way too intimidating for them to leave without at least a bruise.

But you stepped in and said, “He’s in a bad mood. It’s best that you leave or he’ll slam your head next.” You smiled at them and that was enough to make them turn back from where they came from and ran away.

“You should have made them apologise.”

“Nah, it’s not like I’m going to see them again anyway.”

You still find it bothersome how your father made Seonghwa follow you to college every single day, like a shadow. Before, he would wear those black formal suits and would sit in every class you had which was seriously uncomfortable.

People were wondering if your family was dealing with some kind of underground business and thus making you friendless up till now.

After having to negotiate with your father almost ten times, he agreed that Seonghwa was to only wait outside of every class and wear normal clothes like any young adult his age.

Your assigned bodyguard was surprised when he knew about the new arrangement and you can’t believe he reacted as if you’ve abandoned him when it’s not. It took him some time to get used to it and would accidentally follow you inside the lecture hall like he was now.

You turned on your heels and lightly pushed him out of the door. “Hwa, please go and eat breakfast or waste time at the mall while I finish. It’s four hours of class.” You said tiredly, this was not the first time and he would answer the same thing again and again.

“I’ll wait out here. Text me if you need anything.” He gave you a professional smile that you wished he would not since it felt so weird when you know each other for so long. But being in this line of job, he had to do it and he insisted on it.

You grumbled knowing that he’ll stand right outside and do nothing but glare at anyone that passed by. He wasn’t paranoid, more like protective after how many incidents you got involved back in school.

Four hours passed by and everyone including you were sluggish as hell. Your back aching, arms sore and tired from all the note taking you did.

The moment you stepped outside, Seonghwa was there looking exactly how he did earlier. A smile on his face as he stepped near you. “Ready to go home?” He asked, pushing himself off the wall he was leaning on.

“Don’t you get tired waiting out here?”

He shook his head and before he could reply, you answered for him. “You were trained for this, I get it. Let’s go grab lunch, I’m hungry.” Seonghwa nodded and followed behind you like he always does.

“Seonghwa, you can walk beside me, there’s no one besides us.” You slightly turned around and grabbed his wrist and forced him to walk beside you.

He nibbled on his lower lip as he tried to remain his composure, eyes once in a while went down to his wrist that had your fingers wrapped around it. This is fine. I’m not crossing any lines, he reminded in his head.

Seonghwa was busy checking his schedule, your schedule to be exact when he heard the heavy doors across from him being pushed open. Your classmates swarmed out and he scanned everyone in search of your figure. His brows furrowed when he didn’t see you coming out.

He made his way through the crowd and went inside the hall, where you were seen talking with someone at the front row seats. He let out an exasperated sigh and made his way towards you. His sharp eyes watched how you and this person he doesn’t know talking so casually, unaware that everyone had left the room.

Seonghwa made sure his presence was known as he stood close to your side, the guy you were with immediately noticed him. He tapped your arm and motioned for you to look behind. There stood your bodyguard with a straight face on, glaring right at the stranger.

“Oh you’re here. I have a project to discuss with him so we'll probably head to the library then have dinner if we get to finish things early. You can go back first.” You know so well he’s not going to leave you with this person until late at night. But it was worth the try.

Seonghwa on the other hand felt irritated the moment you mentioned the guy’s name and how you had a plan up till dinner. It was unscheduled and he didn’t like one bit about it.

“I’ll inform your father what you told me. Also, I’m staying with you until you finish.” He said and for the first time ever, he left you first to wait outside. That caught you off guard but you tried not to think about it too much.

Your bodyguard who was seated a table away watched every single action of yours and your project partner. He noticed how you would cover your mouth when you laugh at a joke the male made or how you keep on adjusting your outfit when talking.

You almost never behaved that way around him and suddenly showing this side to someone that’s not him, irked him. He then realised how he hated what he was seeing and felt something he never felt before.

He felt possessive of you. After spending time together for so long and being the only friend and shoulder to lean on, he had developed a new feeling towards you. It was probably not new at all, just hidden deep down in his heart finally bursting out due to this new stranger.

His fingers curled into fists when your partner casually patted your head after you managed to complete a question. He’s being way too touchy and why do I feel like interrupting them and causing a ruckus? Seonghwa quietly shook the thought away and continued on watching the both of you.

The ride back home was awfully quieter than usual and it made you uneasy. You stole glances at Seonghwa who drove in silence and never uttered a single word at you.

When the both of you arrived back home, he usually bothered himself to open the front doors for you but instead shut the door right in your face.

Something was totally not right and you hate to admit but an upset Seonghwa was a hard one to deal with. “He’s probably tired. We have been out since morning.” You tried to assure yourself and went inside and spotted him on the second floor.

You ran up the stairs, catching up with his retreating figure that did not turn once at all to look at you. He clearly heard the door opening and you running up the stairs but he ignored it.

“Is everything okay, Hwa?” You manage to grab his wrist and try to peer at his face when he jerks his hand away harshly from you.

“No, I’m upset. Go to your room, it’s late.” He curtly said and left you in the hallway alone.

Inside the room, Seonghwa threw himself on the bed and covered his face with the back of his hand. He wanted to beat himself so bad for being so harsh to you. I should have said everything was fine like always, not making things worse like this. He grumbled to himself as more thoughts flooded his head.

He never felt this troubled before but when he finally came to sense that he wanted you all to himself, everything jumbled up. Before, it felt like nothing more than protecting his employer’s child but not anymore.

After a while, you were done with your night routine and was already in bed but your mind was still awake. Thinking of Seonghwa and what he said earlier. “No, I’m upset.”

You kicked the covers away and made a bee-line to your bodyguard’s room as quiet as possible. Making sure no one was near the staircase, you ran towards the other side of the hallway towards his bedroom.

You knocked a couple of times and even twisted the knob but it was locked. Praying hard that you won’t wake anyone up, you knocked even harder and finally heard a sound coming from inside.

Seonghwa unlocked the door and thought it was one of the maids and got annoyed. “What is it?” He voiced with a frown until he saw you standing in front of him, staring and mouth slightly agape.

The both of you then heard voices coming from the corner and without thinking he pulled you inside and trapped you behind the door.

“What are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to-” You words were cut off when another set of knocks came and he knew who it was.

“Young man, do you have anything to wash?”

“No, I don’t. Goodnight.” Seonghwa was about to shut the door when the lady stopped with her hand. “You sure, I changed the sheets two weeks ago. Also why are you not letting me in?” She pushed the door harder and it made you yelp and hit him from the impact.

“What was that?” She asked. “It’s just my stomach. I’m not feeling well.” His other hand wrapped around the back of your head making sure you don’t move again. The action made you still as you took in the fact that he was really close to you.

Seonghwa finally closed the door and let out a sigh. He then tipped your chin up to make you look him in the eyes. “Why are you not wearing a shirt?” Was the first thing that came out of your mouth.

“Uh, it’s my room?” He answered back.

“But, you’re living in my house.” You raised a brow at him.

“Should I make it my house too then?” He taunted back.

“What?!”

You couldn’t help but shout in surprise at the words he just said. You thought he was joking but when he stepped back and went to sit at the edge of his bed, messing up his hair. You knew this was more than that.

“I like you...no I love you. I don’t even know myself.” He stopped for a moment. “But what I know is that I hate seeing you getting shy with that project partner of yours.” He expressed which sound more like he was murmuring to himself rather than to you.

You furrowed your brows and can’t help but like the fact that he was bothered by something like that. Seeing him all frustrated with nothing but a pair of sweatpants was sure a sight.

But shortly after, it made you question yourself as well. You walked closer and stood directly in front of him and he looked up at the mention of his name.

Your palms found their way to his bare shoulders, resting there as you closed your eyes and went down to kiss him. Seonghwa was caught off guard by your sudden move and took your face in his hand, ripping it away from him.

“We shouldn’t do this.” He sounded genuinely worried.

“I just wanted to confirm my feelings. I’m sorry for suddenly kissing you like that.” You were about to move away when he pulled you back to your initial spot. He made you sit on his lap, legs wrapped around him.

You were confused by his sudden actions when just a minute ago he had pushed you away, reminding you that it wasn’t right to do what you both did.

“Did you feel anything after stealing a kiss from me?” His tone low as his alluring eyes met yours. You gulped at the sudden change in demeanor.

Not knowing what to say or react, you let him have his way with you. His fingers tapped its way on your neck before holding your jaw in place. He liked how it fits nicely in his hands as he pulled your face closer to his.

“You should answer when I ask.”

You didn’t know what took over you as you slowly thread your fingers in his hair and crushed your lips with his. He let out a moan and deepened the kiss, hands now gripping the side of your frame. You were starting to get out of breath, never would have imagined kissing him like this would be so addicting.

You peck his lips once more before pulling away, eyes half lidded as you look at him. His face flushed and the way he was breathing through his lips wasn’t helping at all.

“That answers everything, don’t you think?” You breathed out, hands resting on his broad shoulders again.

Seonghwa then unwrapped your legs around him, pushing you down on the bed before doing the same. He gazed at your features as a finger swiped the bottom of your lips.

“You better tell that guy to not get too touchy or I can’t guarantee his life.”

His pupils were round and innocent now despite looking like it could suck you in whole earlier. You scoffed at his words and played with his fringe that was covering his eyes. “Forget about him. What are we going to do next?” you asked, eyes roaming his beautiful face.

Seonghwa smirked and that's when you know he interpreted your words differently. “I’m going to do whatever I want and make sure you can’t attend class tomorrow.” You sighed at him and lightly punched his chest.

“I meant about my father, your job as my bodyguard. I don’t think he’s going to take this nicely.” You informed him, already knowing the fate of your relationship after this.

“I’ll take care of that. What you need to worry about is what’s going to happen right now.” Seonghwa's eyes were clearly filled with lust as his hand went under your shirt and watched how you tried to hold back from his cold touch.

You were starting to feel ways you could never imagine and he doesn’t plan on stopping anytime soon. It will be a long night and surely there’s no turning back on this.

A sneaking attempt, an unexpected confession and a stolen kiss had led you to this.

Nothing else matters as for now, just you and your life time bodyguard, Park Seonghwa.

320 notes · View notes

shreddedparchment · 3 years

Text

A Wife for Thor Pt.18

Annulment

03/06/2021

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader Word Count: 6,291

Warnings: angst, pregnancy, broken marriages, depression, abandonment, little bits of fluff, supportive Loki

A/N: After I finished the last chapter, I went right to work on this one because the mood was good and I’ve been wanting to get these chapters out since the very beginning. These are the moments that drive me to write fics. The point of contention when everything gets messy. I hope you enjoy it, thank you so much for your comments and reblogs. Since I posted this one so quickly after the one before I will be replying to the comments on this one instead of the one before. I hope you can forgive me! <3 Thanks for reblogging if you do, it seriously helps SO much. xoxo

If you were ever in question as to whether you had a fight or flight instinct when faced with stressful situations, you now know that your instinct is to freeze.

You’re immobilized by the terror that’s tearing through you. Nothing feels real at this moment when your whole world has suddenly come crashing down.

Only seconds have passed but you quickly push your meltdown as deep within you as you can.

One hand placed on your belly in an absentminded caress of the baby growing inside, you reach for the door to go in and tell Thor you’re pregnant. It doesn’t matter that Jane is pregnant too.

You’re his wife. This little one inside you is the heir to the New Asgardian throne. And yet, your mind starts to add up the time that Jane might have become pregnant and her baby would come first.

Her child would be heir, not yours. Legitimate or not. These days, that stands for nothing.

So, despite knowing that you’ll have to deal with Jane for the rest of your life as she is the mother of your husband’s first child, it’s really not all that bad.

He loves you.

Thor loves you.

While you process this sudden revelation, the conversation on the other side of the door continues not waiting for you to come to get a grip.

“Are you certain?”

“Do you doubt her?” Thor demands, sounding frustrated and stressed.

“Yes,” Loki says passionately, “I would doubt anyone that I have not seen in several months.

“What reason would she have to lie?” Thor begs, genuinely looking for an excuse that will make this untrue. “She has never wanted the responsibility of the throne. She has always spoken of having children as a distant possibility. Not an assurance. The last thing Jane would want is a baby.”

“When did you even have the opportunity to bed her? Did you secretly make her your mistress?”

“No!” Thor gasps, as if the idea of cheating on you is ridiculous. “No, I-it was the day I went to end things with her when Y/N accepted my proposal.”

“So, you slept with Jane and then came back home and bedded your new fiance on the same day?”

“I’m not proud of that fact,” Thor admits.

“Regardless, even if you did sleep with her, you need to have her examined, Thor. You cannot take her on her word, not with so much on the line.”

“Fine,” Thor agrees, “But I’m certain that she isn’t lying. She’s been tired and sluggish since she arrived, her appetite strange, and this past week she’s been sick at every meeting, unable to hold down any of her lunch.”

A deep sigh from Loki tells you he’s resigned to Thor’s judgement. Jane is pregnant.

“What will you do?” Loki asks.

The quiet tone of their voices more dire than the passionate denial Thor’s voice had been just a moment ago.

You should go in now. You’ll tell him that you don’t care that Jane is pregnant. You’ll support him and assure him that if he wants them to move into the palace or maybe one of the houses on the palace grounds, you won’t mind! In fact, it will be better so that your babies can grow together as true siblings.

“Y/N is not pregnant yet,” Thor says slowly, his voice calculating.

He’s thinking hard.

“What is your point, brother?” Loki demands, sounding defensive.

“If-” Thor breathes in deep, but when he speaks, the words tumble out sure and decided. “If I am to do right by Jane’s and my child, if I am to legitimize my heir, I’ll-”

He hesitates, your heart thrumming so fast and hard that you can hear it’s beat in your ears as your brain throbs.

“I’ll get an annulment. The basis of which will be that Y/N has been unable to provide me with an heir. I’ll get sworn statements from her doctors that our-our bodies are not compatible and since Jane is already pregnant-”

You take a step as if to run but freeze because you know you can’t do this. No. You can’t face this. Not here. Not this close to him and her and all of this stupid royal bullshit that you never asked for but got anyway.

As you fracture from the inside, you paint a calm smile on your face and while you pull it off, you can’t disguise the exhaustion that pokes through. You take several feet back from the door, giving yourself a good length of hallway to walk.

You straighten up, stand as tall as you can, and move towards the parted door, “Thor?”

There’s a rush of movement from inside as you reach the war room and you try to keep your hand from trembling as you reach down and pull the door open.

Inside, Loki stands ramrod straight, hands behind his back and his face carefully devoid of any kind of expression other than his normal neutral.

Thor turns away from his desk, forcing a smile for you until he sees your face and his own falls quickly.

You know he doesn’t think you overheard him because you’d given yourself plenty of distance so that he and Loki could stop talking before you were close enough to hear anything.

But he knows something is wrong and he moves towards you, right hand extended to take hold of your arm.

Trying not to make it obvious, you meander towards one of the tall wooden chairs by the war table and sit down before Thor can touch you.

“What is it, cherub? Are you ill?” Thor wonders, moving towards you.

Feigning interest in the small models of the outposts that the Warriors Three occupy across the planet, you get up and move away from him again as you lean down to look at the one in the United States.

“I’m-to be honest, I am feeling a little under the weather,” you nod, sighing as you give him a quick pained smile.

You clear your throat, hoping that it sounds like you’ve got a tickle.

“I’ll send for the doctor,” Thor moves towards the cord by the door but you stand up straight quickly and shake your head.

“No, Thor, don’t. I think maybe I just need some rest?” you nod, smiling at him again but it still just looks painful. “I came to ask you if it would be okay for me to go stay at my house for a little while? Maybe a week or so? Just so that I can get some proper sleep and-and maybe find out if it’s really me getting sick or I’m just stressed out about this park project?”

“I thought the park was almost done?” Loki checks.

“And it is,” you nod at him. “But we’ve had so much trouble with the import of several of the plants that I’d wanted to have in the wildflower corner of the park and the fountains are still giving us trouble so, I-I just need a few days to get away from it.”

You turn back to Thor who isn’t looking at you anymore but has his hand pressed to his mouth as he loses himself in thought.

As you watch him contemplate and weigh his options, wondering if he should seize this very convenient opportunity you’ve intentionally given him to make up his mind on what to do about Jane and her baby, you very nearly break.

Your lip quivers and in your desire to hide it, you move back towards the door and feign a quick peek out as if looking for someone.

“Thor?” you prod, getting a hold of yourself and turn to fix him with your expectant gaze. “Is that okay? Can I take a few days to just rest up?”

He snaps out of his thoughts and his face softens. You see the Thor who’d just had you perched on his lap, arm around your waist.

“Of course, cherub, if you need some time then you should take it.”

The sadness that fills you is urged on by the knowledge that before Jane’s pregnancy was revealed, Thor would have insisted he come with you.

There is no way that he would have let you go off on your own.

As he moves towards you, this time you make sure not to budge as he places his hands gently on your arms.

He cups the left side of your face, stroking your cheek with his large thumb before he makes to lean in towards you.

Instead of pulling away or making it look too obvious, you press your face in against his chest and he strokes your back as you successfully juke his kiss.

“No, don’t kiss me. I-I threw up and I haven’t brushed my teeth,” you pretend to fuss.

“You know I don’t care, cherub,” Thor nudges you back a little.

“Well, I do.”

You shake your head at him, delving deep into your soul to scrounge up whatever pieces of it you can find and give him a small pout instead.

“Alright,” Thor gives in, but he still leans down and presses his lips to your cheek and then your forehead before you’re pulling away from him to edge towards the door.

“I should go if I want to catch the next flight out,” you tell him.

“Y/N,” he calls and you stop by the door to look back at him, wishing he’d just let you go so that you can fall apart alone and away from all the eyes of the palace.

Thor clenches his hand into a tight fist, gently tapping it against the war table as you wait.

“I love you.”

You blink, give him a quick forced smile, and sigh because despite the heartache you’re drowning in, “I love you too, Thor. So much.”

As you walk away, you know that nothing will ever be the same. In a week’s time, you might not even be Queen anymore. Wouldn’t that be something?

~~~~~~~~~~

You’re given a bodyguard. Well, more like a friend who can kick serious ass. Hilde was happy to volunteer.

“Something’s up,” she observes as she escorts you into the airport gate.

Normally you’d have set up for a private plane, or Thor would have.

But he has other things on his mind.

“What do you mean?” you ask her, clearing your throat again for the fifth time since you left the palace in order to uphold the pretense of feeling sick.

“Your face is all wrong, you’re not saying something.”

“I have nothing to hide, Hilde. I’m just tired. I feel weak and beaten. I feel like I can’t catch my breath. Like I’ll crack if I’m not careful enough to hold myself together.”

All of this is true. You do feel like you’re about to crumble to pieces. Nothing you just said is a lie. You’re not hiding anything, just waiting. In a week’s time, you’ll know where you stand. And then you can tell Hilde everything.

“How long have you felt this way?” Hilde wonders, real concern painting her tone.

“Not long,” you tell her. “It just started today, actually. About two hours ago?”

“There’s something more,” she refuses to believe that you’re only sick. “It’s like you’re running from something.”

“What would I be running from, Hilde? My luxurious and comfortable life? My loving husband? My sweet and loyal people? My life is perfect. I don’t feel like I’m missing anything.

“I have a family. The only thing I’ve ever wanted. Why would I run from that? Unless of course, I’m being kicked out?”

Hilde fixes you with a look of complete confusion.

As you hand over your ticket to the man at the gate, you force a smile on your friend.

“If I were being kicked out, I’d run before they could get the chance to give me the boot. Then at least it was my choice and not someone forcing me to go away.”

“Why would anyone kick you out? It’s not possible, Your Majesty. You are Queen of New Asgard. Or did you forget?”

“I don’t think it’s possible for me to ever forget my time as Queen. I think I’ll remember it until the day I die.”

Hilde takes your arm, turning you to face her with subtle force, “Oi, what aren’t you telling me?”

You swallow hard, pushing your sorrow down until you can ignore it a little better.

“I’m-I’m not hiding anything, seriously. I’m just tired, Hilde. Being Queen is harder than I ever thought it could be and even though I love being married to Thor, the stresses of doing my job as Queen have reached a point where it’s boiling over.

“I just need a break...from everyone, Hilde. Even you.”

“What did I do?!” she demands, offended.

“Nothing. You’ve been one of the good parts of being Queen, but I just need a little break from Asgard as a whole. I spent my entire childhood and teenage years alone with no one to rely on me but me.

“I just need to be alone for a bit. One week. That’s all I want. So...I know that Thor won’t be happy about it but now that you’ve seen me onto the plane-”

“I am not leaving you alone,” Hilde frowns, almost angry at you for even asking.

“David is meeting me when the plane lands and then driving me home himself. I’ll be fine being alone for just the flight,” it’s a plea as much as it is a reassurance. “Please, Hilde. Please? Please?”

The higher your pitch gets, the more she breaks, turning sympathetic.

“Please, Hilde? Please?”

She growls and rolls her eyes, holding out your carryon bag--a large brown duffel bag stuffed with clothes--so that you can take it.

“Thor is going to be pissed at me,” she grumbles. “And it’s all your fault.”

You take your bag, hang it on your shoulder, and quickly pull her in to kiss her cheek.

“Thank you, Hilde. I’ll text you as soon as I land. I promise.”

“You’d better, or I’ll come find you and stick at your side like paste.”

A stewardess comes out to peek down at you and you hurry off before Hilde can change her mind.

In no time at all, you’re in your seat, the plane up and the air, and New Asgard--Thor and his annulment of your marriage--is fading fast behind you.

When you land, no one is there to meet you.

A necessary lie. You'll have to call David in the morning and let him know what's happening. He's your lawyer and if Thor goes through with his plan, you'll need to be legally ready.

You're hit with a stab of hurt that your previously loving marriage has taken such a shift.

Still, you feel bad for lying to Hilde, but when you’d said you needed your alone time, you’d meant it.

You rent a car with your own money, ignoring the shiny black credit card that Thor had given you during your honeymoon shopping trip. The last thing you need is them tracing your movements when you just want to be left alone.

The drive home is lengthy but the peace it brings you is welcome.

Four hours of no one but yourself, the music on your radio, and endless grassy hills and small town charms streaking past your windows like long lost friends.

After an hour of driving you stop at a roadside diner. You buy a bag full of fries, smear them in lines of ketchup, grab a lemonade to go, and text Hilde that you’re with David and on your way home.

After another hour, you stop again. This time at a decently sized convenience store, newly built. It's a truck stop really and you take the chance to use the bathroom then loiter by your car as you tap the screen of your phone with your thumb, waking it up over and over again. Unable to make up your mind.

Your wallpaper taunts you. A picture of you sitting between Thor’s legs on your massive bed, his arms wrapped around you as your left hand is placed to his cheek as he kisses yours, your other arm extended as you take the picture.

It’s difficult to find the courage to unlock your phone, scroll through your contacts, and press the little phone to dial Thor.

He doesn’t pick up right away.

Sadly your marriage already feels like a past life. It feels dead. Like a good dream you’ve woken up from and you just know if you try and go back to sleep to keep it going, it’ll only turn into a nightmare.

The phone rings and rings. It goes to voicemail.

It hurts. So much more than you expected it to hurt and your tears overflow leaving salty trails along your cheeks as you hiccup and try not to sob out loud.

You lean and cry against your car for the longest two minutes of your life before your phone is ringing and vibrating in your hand.

It’s Thor, and for a second, you consider not answering. You consider disappearing. Just fading into the wilderness. Abandoning your car right here. Never making it to your little house. It's so tempting in the moment to give up your throne, which will soon be taken away from you, and start your life again.

How long would they look for you? Would they eventually assume you're dead?

Still, you know that Dr. Wilson and Dr. Alric would spill the beans and if Thor knew...

You press your free hand to your stomach and know that you can’t just vanish. This life will follow you wherever you go and as painful as it is, you’re not sorry for the baby you’ve made.

You swallow your sobbing and with all of the other things you’re not allowed to feel right now or you’ll give yourself away, bury it deep down inside.

Gliding your finger across the screen, you answer the phone and press it to your ear.

“My love,” Thor gasps, sounding stressed or tired? Labored breathing.

Your mind goes to dark places and you chase away the nasty images your mind thinks up before you can let them hurt you more.

How can he still call me that?!

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer. Forgive me. I'd left my phone on my desk and I had my hands full of books.”

Your mouth won’t open. It won’t speak.

You realize all of a sudden that you don’t want to talk to Thor. You’re so angry at him. You’re hurt and betrayed and everything he’s ever told you is a lie.

“Y/N?” he sounds so confused.

“I’m here,” you manage.

“How are you feeling, cherub?”

Stop calling me that!

“I’m not great,” you sigh, sagging against the car. “I just wanted to call you to tell you that I’m with David and we’re on our way to my house. We stopped at the store to go to the bathroom, so I thought I’d call you.”

“Wait, David? Why is David with you? Where is Brunnhilde?” Thor asks, his heavy breathing still loud.

“I asked her to stay behind,” you explain. “Look, Thor I don’t really feel well enough for talking. I just didn’t want you to worry. I promised I’d call.”

“Why would she let you go alone?” Thor demands, shouting into whatever room he’s in. “Loki! Where is Brunnhilde? Get her up here!”

“I have to go, Thor. David’s waiting. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Wait. Don’t hang up yet, cherub. Do you have a doctor to see you close to home?” Thor frets, and you can’t stand it.

“I’m coming, David!” you pretend to call, the convenience store clerk currently throwing the trash looks at you then turns his head back and forth as if searching for who you might be talking to. “Bye, Thor.”

“No, wait, love. Don’t hang-”

His voice is cut off and yet his deep tone still rings in your ears as if he were standing right beside you.

Your heart cries out for him. You wish he was there with you but then your brain reminds you that your time with Thor is already over.

The clerk is still looking at you and you give him a quick shake of your head.

“Sorry,” you start. “Bad breakup.”

He nods sympathetically as you get back in your care then gives you a wave as you drive off, setting back off into the night.

You’re not driving twenty minutes before your phone dings. A text.

Then again. And again. And again. Too many texts come through and you can’t stand it.

You reach over and completely shut it off.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s midnight when you finally get up from bed.

There’s no escaping Thor even here in your own home. Your honeymoon memories are everywhere here.

The bed. The shower. The closet--Thor was eager one morning. The kitchen. The backyard. Every room has a memory. Not all of them sex, but all of them just as poignant and meaningful.

Or so you’d thought.

You wander down the hall to your kitchen, flipping the switch as you enter and make a beeline for the vintage fridge.

“Shit-” you sigh, not even opening it as you remember that there will be no food until you go shopping for some.

You take a peek, just to confirm, and all that's inside is a half empty jar of pickles on the door.

Irritated, you move towards the pantry and grab the first box of cereal you see, pop it open and plunge your hand inside.

You scoop a bit into your mouth but just as you begin to crunch, your mouth falters at the sight of Loki sitting on one of your island stools where he clearly wasn't before, a gentle smile to compliment the knowing sharpness in his eyes.

“You heard us, didn’t you?”

You try not to react to his question, because it’s not a question. Just confirmation of what he clearly already guessed.

“You’re not really here, are you?” You finish chewing, taking more cereal into your mouth after you swallow.

You’re starving. You should have bought some burgers at that diner to reheat and eat tonight and tomorrow.

“No,” Loki confirms. “I'm...checking in. Thor doesn’t know. He’s pretty oblivious, actually. Other things on his mind.”

“Like pregnant ex-girlfriends whose baby will have a stronger claim over the Asgardian throne than mine?”

There’s a bitterness in your voice but you don’t feel sorry for it. You’re not going to hide how hurt you are.

Loki’s face finally breaks as he realizes what you mean. He gives you a small startled blink before he’s got control of his expression again.

“Don’t tell him, Loki.”

“He deserves to know.”

“Does he?” you demand, voice rising in your anger. “And I don’t deserve to know about Jane being pregnant?”

“He would have told you,” Loki assures you.

“When?” You demand, eyes stinging. “When he needed my signature on the annulment papers?”

“He’s not decided on anything yet.”

“Oh, my god! As if that even fucking matters!” you get up, throwing the box of cereal into the garbage.

They’re stale.

“The point is he thinks it’s a good idea. I married him. I thought he welcomed me into his family. I thought I belonged with him, and you and Hilde and Heimdall, but I’m just some fucking guest after all, aren’t I?”

“You’re overreacting,” Loki chastises you.

You pick up a nearby mug and chuck it at him. It goes through him and breaks against the wall behind him.

“Don’t tell me that I’m overreacting when my husband is thinking about legally erasing all traces of our marriage!

"I trusted him," you reach up and jab at your own chest somewhat painfully.

"I thought what we had was worth keeping and protecting. I was already making plans to move Jane and her baby into the palace so that our kids could grow up together, as a family but he doesn’t want that.

“He doesn’t want me in his life if he’s already got another heir lined up so why should I tell him? If he doesn’t want me without this baby then he has no right wanting me with it!”

Loki lets you shout, he lets you break down. He doesn’t judge you for it either, but he reads into it. Too much, and you hate him for it.

You don't want to be reasonable. This doesn't feel like the time for reason. You're shattered.

“He loves you, Y/N. His choice is made-”

“For the child, yes. I get that. That doesn’t make it hurt any less. And maybe I shouldn’t be angry for him doing right by his baby when I’m carrying one of my own, but I am angry. It hurts to know that in moments he was able to make the choice to end our marriage.

“He’s my husband and I am his wife. Does that seriously mean nothing?”

Loki shakes his head, “I’ve already told you that he hasn’t decided anything, yet.”

“You don’t get it, and I don’t know that you can understand what even considering the option of annulment means for us as a couple.”

Loki sighs, “I want you to listen to me very clearly, Y/N. I say this with as much love as a brother can feel for his sister. You need to understand and you need to accept that you and Thor are not a normal couple. Thor is, first and foremost, a king.

“He is beholden to his people and he needs to ensure our position on this planet because we don’t have a home anymore. We are refugees and this is our home now. It is Thor’s job to protect that on behalf of all of us by any means necessary. Choices like these are the reason that my brother resisted the throne for so long.

“As a King, all of the love in the world cannot keep him from making the choices that will benefit our people, even if the choice should hurt him in the process.”

You’re shaking with tears as Loki speaks, shaking your head as you press your hand against your tummy. Your thoughts are full of the baby growing within you and the helpless feeling that presses down on you.

“That’s why this baby changes things, Y/N. You must tell him that you’re pregnant if you are going to keep him for yourself. If you want your marriage to survive this, you can’t keep this from him.”

Shaking your head, you turn away from him to fill a small glass with water and take a small drink.

Yes, you need to tell Thor that you’re pregnant. As wounded as your pride is, you can’t keep him in the dark forever.

“My Queen?” Loki urges you, calling you by your title probably to remind you that like Thor, you have obligations even if you don’t like or want them.

“Fine,” you sigh. “I’ll tell him, but not yet. Just give me this week, Loki. Please.”

When you turn to look at him again, he’s softer with his gaze.

“You’re going to let him suffer for his idea of the annulment,” he guesses.

“No,” you shake your head. “This isn’t for Thor. This is for me. Just because I understand the reason he thought of an annulment doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt anymore.

“If I saw him right now, I couldn’t even talk to him, Loki. He might have betrayed me for good reasons, but he’s still betrayed me. He still accepted, even for a few moments, that giving me up was the best thing he could do.

“And maybe it’s because he’s the-the first person that I’ve ever loved, and maybe I’m still looking at our very arranged marriage with some girl’s view of romance but I can’t separate his duty from my hurt and I-I don’t know that I can ever forgive him.”

"I suppose that's fair," Loki sighs. “I won’t say anything, I promise. But I’m going to make sure that he’s here on Friday. From there, it’s your duty as mother to a future prince or princess of Asgard to tell Thor about your pregnancy.”

You move to sit next to him, giving the bits and pieces of the mug you’d thrown at him a look as you settle.

“I’m sorry I threw a cup at your head.".

Loki smirks, “Would you believe me when I tell you that it’s happened before?”

You almost smile, “Yes. I believe it.”

Loki chuckles but you can't return the sentiment. For you, the world is still ending.

“Can you do me a favor, sister?” Loki asks, his term of endearment warms you a little.

Even if Thor found it easily to cast you off, you’re happy that Loki sees you so permanently a part of his family.

“Something tells me I’m not going to be happy about it, but sure.”

“Turn on your phone,” he glances at the phone sitting at the center of the island only inches away from you where you’d left it to avoid temptation. “Thor won’t shut up about how you’re not replying. If you really want to cherish some time alone, it would be better if you answered him. If he’s worried, he can get here within the hour. I don't suppose you want that."

"No," you shudder..

"Oh, and make sure you use your black card. He’ll be checking to make sure that you’re taking care of yourself.”

You roll your eyes, the rift between you and Thor already so big you can’t see a way to fix it.

“This contradiction of Thor loving me so much he’s worried to death and his ability to decide on annulling our marriage is hard to swallow. What’s he going to do when we’re not married anymore and I’m living here and he’s married to Jane?”

“That will never happen, Y/N seeing as you’re going to tell him that you’re pregnant and he won’t go through with an annulment.” Loki insists.

“What if he does?” you wonder. “Jane’s baby was conceived first. They’ll be heir to the throne. Not mine. What if Thor decides that an annulment is still the best course of action?”

“Then I think I’ll have to reconsider my pledge to serve him as my King. But he won’t go through with it, I promise you. Trust me. I know him. Thor is too soft hearted to hurt you like that.”

“He already hurt me, Loki. It’s just the finality of a follow through that I’m waiting for.”

“You’re so eager to be abandoned,” Loki observes, frustrated with you.

“It just feels like I already have been. I’m sorry if that bothers you, but I can’t help how I feel. Haven’t you ever thought you belonged somewhere only to find out that you’re not as accepted as you thought?”

Loki thinks for a moment, his silence heavy with memory, “I have.”

“And how long did it take you to get over it?”

Loki grins, meeting your eyes with a bit of resignation.

“A long time,” he admits.

“And mine just happened today. You expect me to be over it already? Get bent, Loki.”

Loki chuckles.

“You have a point. I’m sorry, I’ve been looking at this through the lens of being my brother’s advisor. I’ll try and do better.”

His promise is genuine and it makes you feel better that you have at least one person on your side.

“Thank you, Loki,” you sigh. “I know this isn’t an easy spot for you to be in, between me and Thor. I appreciate you coming to check on me.”

“It’s my pleasure. Thor might not have noticed the way you refused to touch him when you left today but I was instantly sure that you’d heard everything. Does it bother you that he slept with her and you on the same day?”

“Not as much as I thought it would,” you admit. “Even without him explicitly saying it, I knew that he’d been with her. I knew that it was likely that he’d slept with her. They were in love. Maybe him more than her, but they didn’t break up because they wanted to. They broke up because he needed to get married and Jane wasn’t ready to do that.

“If Thor had made more of an attempt to delay our wedding, maybe Jane would have come to him sooner with her news and Thor and I would never have gotten married. I wouldn’t be pregnant, and this would all be much less messy.”

“I’m glad he didn’t wait. I’d rather have you as a sister than Jane. She’s nice but you’re much better suited to be Queen.”

“Until my King pisses me off and I run off for a week,” you tease.

“This is an exceptional situation,” Loki nods. “I don’t think if anyone else were in your shoes, they would be any less hurt than you by the news of Jane’s baby. If she is pregnant.”

You look at him, interest piqued.

“You said something like that before, that Jane should get tested to make sure she’s pregnant. What makes you think she might not be?”

“Nothing in particular. She might be. I just really don’t want her to be. I like you for Thor, Y/N. As far as I’m concerned, you’re Asgardian now.”

“I wish Thor thought like you do.”

“He does think it, Y/N. He’s just thrown off balance right now. Give him a little time and tell him about your child. His child, and it will clear up his mind. His judgement is compromised by the fact that he has an heir from the woman he once loved and the woman he now loves has had no luck in conceiving one. Or so he thinks.”

“I already told you that I’ll tell him, Loki. I just want some time.” you sigh.

“I know. We’re talking in circles. I’ll go, let you get some rest.”

You turn to watch him, slowly he begins to dissolve into slow moving golden swirls mixed with a tinge of green.

“Oh, and check your fridge again. I’ve left you a present.”

Just as quickly as he’d shown up, he’s gone.

With a heavy heart you remember the favor he asked of you and turn on your phone.

Twenty texts chime in and you quickly scroll through them.

They’re all from Thor, save for two from Hilde.

Hilde: Thanks. Be careful.

Hilde: Snitch!

All of Thor’s are variations of the same message.

Thor: Please reply, cherub.

Thor: Are you asleep?

Thor: I’m sorry if I’m waking you up.

Thor: Are you home yet?

Thor: Are you safe?

It isn’t until the last few messages that his frenzy of worry seems to change. More resigned to your lack of response. Probably believing that you are actually asleep.

Thor: I miss you already, cherub. I can’t tell you how strange it is to lay in our bed without you.

Thor: I don’t think there’s been a night since we married aside from my visit to the outposts that I have not had your perfect body pressed to mine.

Thor: My heart aches without you.

Thor: My body craves in your absence.

Thor: My soul is empty. You are my very essence now, my sweet cherub.

Thor: I hope you’re not very ill. I could not stand to lose you.

You sob, reading his texts through paints a drastic contrast between his deep voice crying for annulment and the loving, doting, sweet husband who sent you these messages.

His text voice is also so different from the way he talks. You can hear the way he might have talked to you if he hadn’t spent so much time with the Avengers and other humans here on Earth. Jane probably heard him speak like this out loud when they first met.

She’d been his first contact with this planet.

Wiping at your tears, you clutch the phone to your chest for a moment before focusing your blurry eyes on the screen again to keep reading.

Thor: I’ve never known how essential you are to my life until this moment. I need you at my side. I am most certain of it now.

Thor: I would give my life for you. I will keep you close from now on. I don’t know if I can last a week without you, my love. Don’t hate me if I come to you tomorrow.

Thor: Loki has just told me that he’s come to see that you’ve settled into your home safely. I really need him to teach me that trick. He says you need rest and that you already have a doctor coming by in the morning.

Thor: Please tell me what they say once they’ve seen you.

Thor: Loki keeps yelling at me to let you sleep.

Thor: Goodnight, cherub. I love you. More than my life.

Thor: Please text me in the morning.

Thor: It’s Loki. I’ve taken his phone. I’ll make sure he leaves you alone for the full week. Thank you for turning your phone on.

Y/N: I’m fine, Thor. Just very tired.

And because it’s true and if you don’t say it, he’ll get suspicious:

Y/N: I love you, too.

You sniffle and lock your phone.

“Jerk,” you grieve, and move to the fridge.

Opening it again, you’re surprised to find it fully stocked this time with all of your favorite foods and treats.

Loki is seriously the best brother-in-law in the universe.

#king!thor x reader #thor x reader #royal au #arranged marriage au #a wife for thor #king!thor x reader fic #king!thor x reader fanfic #king!thor x reader fanfiction #king!thor x you #thor x reader fanfiction #thor x reader fanfic #thor x reader fic #thor x you #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #a wife for thor pt18 #loki #loki laufeyson

484 notes · View notes

shes-a-gryffindor · 3 years

Text

Of Apples and Psychological Lapses

A @jilytoberfest submission. Prompt #12 - One overhearing something they're not supposed to.

That day, on an otherwise uneventful morning, it started with an apple, of all things.

James Potter sat straddling the bench at the Gryffindor table, poring over what Lily supposed was a textbook, elbow on a knee with an apple in his hand.

Only half listening to Mary’s recitation of the ingredients for the Draught of Living Death that they were supposed to be brewing later that day, she chanced upon another look at him…. the muscles in his jaw jumped as he bit into his apple, and as she watched him laugh at something she couldn’t hear, Lily found herself wondering whether he’d always had that dimple in his cheek… before she’d had the chance to mentally scold herself for her apparent loss of self-control, James caught her eye; grinning roguishly, he winked at her before taking another bite…

“You’re doing it again,” said Mary,

Lily’s neck snapped so quickly away from James she thought she might have whiplash, “doing what?”

“Making love eyes at Potter” she sniggered.

“Don’t be daft,” responded Lily dismissively, “I was not giving him love eyes” she added, silently cursing the blush now creeping up her neck, “…anyway, the ingredients…for today, you were reading them…” a lame attempt at a change in subject.

Mary smirked at her for a moment before returning to her textbook; relieved that she’d been let off the hook, Lily focused intently on Mary’s recitation, despite already knowing the ingredients from memory, she was determined not to look over again at the group of boys sitting only a few feet away from them.

Thinking they’d get a head start on the swarm of students that would soon be filing out of the hall, they packed their books and downed the last of their pumpkin juice. As she stood, Lily glanced quickly over at James again, he was in animated conversation with Sirius, the apple hanging loosely from his fingers at his side… and a ridiculous idea crossed her mind.

Deliberating over it in the seconds it took them to reach the spot where he was sitting, before she’d even really decided upon it, she’d snatched the apple out from his hand, twisting her head round to wink back at him, before taking a bite of what was now her apple.

“Shut up,” she smirked at Mary, who was looking at her with raised eyebrows.

The rest of the day continued in a similar fashion; she felt his eyes burning into the back of her head during Transfiguration, then found herself loitering after class, trying to chance perhaps walking out at the same time as him… before realising she was behaving like an idiot and walking quickly out alone.

History of Magic was, in particular, a challenge. It was, as usual, rather impossible to focus on the monotony that was Professor Binns' lesson.

Serenely unaware that no one seemed the least bit interested in his thorough breakdown of wand legends through time, he droned on… “The Death Stick, The Wand of Destiny…” and by the time the lesson was over Lily and James had shared several silent exchanges across the classroom.

Potions that afternoon was perhaps, although short-lived, her only reprieve. Lily was quite comfortable in her element, happily brewing her Draught of Living Death. Having already reached the ideal halfway stage, she smiled contentedly down at the smooth, black currant-colored liquid in her cauldron.

Just as she was about to start chopping her roots, she caught James, brow furrowed, curiously observing her potion, before looking back at his own - which appeared to be eliciting a sort of blue-ish haze, not horrible but certainly not what it should have been doing by that point… better, if nothing else, than Peter’s… who was looking more distressed by the minute at the now foul smelling, brown concoction bubbling in his cauldron.

“Care to share your expertise, Evans?” Asked James, grinning over at her. With his sleeves rolled up over his elbows, his forearms were tense as he shifted his body weight onto them, leaning over the table toward her… and Lily thought quietly, that the dimple in his cheek was obviously not the only thing she’d failed to notice.

“Afraid not, Potter,” she responded, “see If I told you, I’d have to kill you… although, could be doing myself a favour there,” she added, smirking at him.

“Better not then, otherwise you might actually get some peace and quiet… can’t have that,” he said seriously.

“Merlin forbid,” she mumbled, in mock exasperation.

“Merlin forbid,” began Sirius, “all this terrible flirting makes me throw up in my cauldron.”

Mary and Peter burst into a fit of giggles, even Remus, it seemed, found it amusing, while James just grinned down at his cauldron.

“Your potion can’t get any worse than it already is Black… I say try it,” Lily mocked.

Sirius, however, had cast his attention elsewhere.

From the corner of the next table over, having apparently overheard the entire exchange, Severus was looking darkly over at them. His eyes flickered briefly between James and Lily before returning to his potion. She knew she’d been shamelessly flirting with him, for days, weeks really… what she hadn’t realised was how blatantly obvious it was becoming, to everyone even beyond their friends; blushing furiously and feeling rather sheepish, she scowled at Sirius, who was still grinning smugly over at Severus, before returning to her own potion.

As she made the last of her rounds that evening, her mind once again wandered to what was fast becoming something, or rather, someone, she thought about much too often. He’d looked a little too smug after catching her at dinner - watching, as a Hufflepuff in the year below them asked for his help with a Transfiguration essay that weekend… in addition to self-control, she was now apparently also losing her common sense… it was perfectly acceptable that he help another student with an essay, why should this bother her…? But honestly an essay over the weekend, she thought… ask the bloke out and be done with it, what a stupid excuse… Surely he knew the girl fancied him.

The sinking feeling in her stomach at the thought of them, tucked away in a quiet corner of the library poring over an essay together, was extremely disconcerting, this sudden interest in who he was spending time with… He’d made his existence impossible to ignore for the better part of six years, perhaps now that he wasn’t asking her out at every turn her mind was playing that stupid game, the one where you only want something because it’s not as easy to get anymore, not because you genuinely want it… some psychological lapse in judgement… yes that must be it; so trying to force her thoughts back into some semblance of order, Lily resolved to get a grip.

She met Remus in the dungeons and together they checked the last of the corridors before heading back up to the common room, chatting about weekend plans, their upcoming exams and whether they had anything planned for the summer holidays before their seventh year.

Lily was careful to steer the conversation in another direction anytime it got a little too close to James, so she wasn’t exactly thrilled (maybe a little bit) when they stepped through the portrait hole to find James, Sirius and Peter sitting alone in the common room. With a warm smile, Remus bid her goodnight and went to join his friends in front of the fire.

“All right, Evans?” Asked James, grinning that lone-dimpled grin as she walked past.

Shooting him a quick tight lipped smile, she trudged up the staircase to her dormitory with an infuriatingly pink face; she had just reached the top of the staircase, however, when she heard Sirius snigger -

“Reckon she might actually prefer you to the giant squid now.”

Failing in her resolve to get a grip before she’d even begun, and apparently not above eavesdropping now either, Lily stopped and stood there at the top of the staircase, dead silent, craning her neck to listen to them.

“What?” Asked James, “What makes you say that?” In his voice, Lily heard a hint of what she thought sounded like hope.

“Are you daft? Or do you just want to hear it all back?”

“A bit of both I think,” chuckled Remus.

“Did you not see Snivelly’s face in potions? Even he can tell she fancies you mate,” said Sirius, dryly.

“Looked a bit put out, didn’t he?” Chuckled James.

“A bit? Looked like he didn’t know whether to cry or hex you,” chortled Peter, “d’you reckon him and Evans… you know-”

“What? Asked James, cutting him off, “went out?”

“Nah,” answered Sirius quickly, “who’d want to go out with that? Didn’t they know each other from before school, or something?”

“Yeah… they were friends,” said James, with finality in his voice.

“‘Till he showed his true colours,” scoffed Sirius, “…bit naive of her though, don’t you think? To think that he’d be anything but the slimy git he is.”

Lily had half a mind to go down and give Sirius a piece of her mind, until…

“Nah,” said James, “I reckon she knew who he was the whole time… she just chooses to see the good in everyone, y’know? Even a slimy git like Snivellus.” When no one said anything, he added, “Personally, I don’t think she should change that about herself.”

There was silence… and then someone made a dry-retching sound like they were throwing up, followed by scuffling and a series of thuds, “gerrof!” Came Sirius’s muffled voice, over Peter and Remus’s laughter.

Deciding she’d heard enough, Lily tiptoed quietly into her dorm; and as she pulled the scarlet hangings of her four-poster around her that night, she thought perhaps her interest in James Potter wasn’t a psychological lapse in judgment at all.

#jily fic #jily love #jily fanfiction #marauders fic #marauders and lily #marauders era #the marauders #james potter x lily evans #pining #mutual pining #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #jilytober fest #jilytober

74 notes · View notes

obae-me · 4 years

Note

Hi again! If it's not too much trouble, can I request the brothers reacting to an MC who usually bottles up their anger (they have a LOT of patience) until one day they just explode? You are an amazing person, and thank you for everything! I hope you aren't pushing yourself too hard!!

Hi, welcome everyone to another episode of Mara Doesn’t Know When To Stop, this time featuring this lovely request! I had a small idea, which then turned into five whole pages for Lucifer alone, so, I will also be doing this request into parts, I really hope you don’t mind! I get a bit carried away sometimes...I admit it... Anyway, Lucifer’s part is first! I hope you like it! 💜

Warning: Angst, arguing, cussing, It does lead to a happy end though, it’s a bit cheesy but sometimes we love it

We All Get Angry Sometimes

Word Count: 2707

He was fully aware of MC bottling up their true emotions. Being well acquainted with angels, he knew, despite all their holy patience, that even they had their limits. He will admit, he was impressed and proud with how far they had taken it, being human after all. Their control was practically as good as his own. No matter what his brothers did, what they said, how much they pushed them, for weeks MC just smiled and swallowed it. He was pleased. Until they could no longer retain their anger, and turned it all on him.

It had been at dinner, nothing unlike their meals every day, except recently Lucifer’s nerves had been on edge. It had been a few days since he had been blessed with adequate sleep, and his brothers were more bothersome than usual. Little did he know, MC’s mental state was about the same, close to the breaking point. An unhappy MC meant unhappy brothers, which meant it would all lead back up the ladder to Lucifer. There was only so far MC could be shoved around, only so long they could stay calm, and Lucifer had been the last straw. No one can really remember how it started, it hadn’t been important, simply some passing comment from one of the brothers discussing recent school projects. MC had scoffed, explaining their thoughts on how ridiculous the rules of said assignments were. Then it all went downhill from there.

“I’m not sure it’s your place to be making claims like that based on what your grades have been looking like recently,” Lucifer quipped. The rest of the siblings prepared to stand up for the human, knowing that MC was typically passive in nature.

Only, that same human beat them to the punch. “So, you’re saying that because I don’t meet your lofty standards, I’m not entitled to my opinions?” MC set down their fork, sending chills down the other demon’s spines as the room went silent.

Lucifer narrowed his gaze, already annoyed with their tone. “I’m merely explaining that maybe your statement would have more merit if you worked a little more at your studies instead of slacking off. And for the record, no, you haven’t been reaching my standards. I honestly expected more from you.” Every member of the household felt that line deep in their bones.

MC’s jaw clenched, the fire building up in their chest overwhelmed them to the point where if they shoved it down any longer, they felt like they would explode under the pressure. “You expected more from me? What more could you possibly want?! You’ve taken my home, my family, my friends, my culture, my time! You’ve constantly belittled me, ordered me around, expected nothing but perfection from me, and you still want more?! What have you possibly done to deserve more of me?!”

He was stunned at first, yes, but it didn’t last long. The shock factor was quickly replaced with a wave of fervent irritation. There’s no surprise he was already in demon form, doing his best to intimidate MC into submission. His eyes were glowing that deep red of his, looking down at the human as he got to his feet. His siblings slowly raised up from their seats as well, at the ready to intervene at any second. This whole event had them astonished to their core. Mammon and Levi had their jaws open. Asmo had his hand covering his mouth. Satan would have appeared proud of MC if not for the wary frown. Beel was instantly engaged in protection mode, already in a stance to grab onto Lucifer if he needed to. The eldest was barely able to control himself. Somehow MC had gotten deep under his skin, his body prickling with anger. “What have I--I’ve brought you into my home, ensured your protection, done nothing but make sure your experience down here is sufficient for your fragile little life! Do Not speak to me that way. Know your place.”

MC was physically vibrating from rage and frustration, their mind clouded with fury. Logic was far out the window now, they simply were saying whatever came to mind. Profanities were no longer held back. “I’m sick of your pompous holier-than-thou shit! I’m sick of working my ass off for you and not being good enough! You have a serious fucking lack of respect for everyone around you!”

The air was thick with his aura, his wings fully extended from his body. “Not another wor-”

“Fuck you!”

In a quick blur of motion, everyone worked together in tandem. As Lucifer lunged forward, his brothers held him back. Mammon scooped MC up in his arms and raced to the safety of their room before MC could get hurt, although deep in his heart he hoped Lucifer wouldn’t resort to violence. Lucifer growled inhumanly, flinging his brothers off of him in a single swift movement, ready to pursue the person that dared attempt to say such things to his face.

“How pathetic for you to have gotten so riled up over a few words from a human,” Satan shouted at him as he got up from his spot on the floor. Swallowing the small lump in his throat, he hoped this would prove a decent distraction as well as a way to snap his brother back under control.

Lucifer loomed over him. Satan seemed hardly disturbed. “Watch yourself.” But Satan’s words proved efficient, Lucifer’s Pride wounded as he realized how quickly he allowed MC’s words to get to him, how quickly he had lost control. All of his sibling’s eyes were on him, observing how he was acting. His head was pounding, but instead of heading up to MC’s room, he swiftly retired to his private study where he locked the entrance behind him. He paced around the area for a while, magically turning on some soothing music as his wings twitched in vexation.

He had been completely unprepared for MC’s retaliation, for their venom towards him, but perhaps he knew there was only so much a living being could take before they snapped. Had he been pushing them too hard? Expecting too much of them? Mistreating them? Had he gone too far? What if this spat ended up becoming a problem for the program? What if MC relayed this to Diavolo? His image, his reputation, they would be tarnished. Did MC think less of him now? Did he really care what they thought of him? He was better than this. He expected more from himself. He lowered his head as he sat heavily down into the chair behind his desk. He sunk down low, proper posture be damned. As he took a deep breath in, he realized he hadn’t been breathing for a while, lungs aching. He hadn’t meant to rub MC the wrong way. He simply strived to lead them towards the potential he knew they had. All he wanted was for them to feel proud of their accomplishments, to show the world what he knew they were capable of. But perhaps, it was unfair for the same standards he kept for himself to apply to MC as well. He pinched the bridge of his nose as that deep breath turned into a heavy sigh. He had failed in nurturing the success they’d already accomplished. He’d made them feel like they weren’t good enough, and now look at what he had done, in front of his family no less. Humiliating.

Meanwhile, Mammon was in the process of rubbing MC’s back as they lay on their bed, screaming into their pillow as angry tears fell from their eyes. They hadn’t meant to snap at Lucifer, it all...was just so much. They finally had cracked from the pressure. Everyone’s expectations had gotten the best of them. Be a human representative. Don’t let anyone down. Don’t show weakness. They weren’t purposefully slacking off from their studies, they just were burnt out, almost completely. Lucifer demanding even more from them...was the last thing they needed to hear today. Their own words made them feel sick to their stomach. Being angry wasn’t like them, it never sat well, which is why they always attempted to bury it in the first place. Mammon continued to tell them to breathe and calm down, doing his best not to freak out himself. He’d never seen his human act like this before. After some time, they both heard a polite knock on the door. As MC tensed, Mammon got up to answer it on their behalf. Lucifer was waiting, back in his casual clothes as his arms were settled folded across his chest, foot tapping impatiently against the floor.

“You’ve got a lotta nerve coming back here so soon,” Mammon scowled. “I won’t let anything happen to them, ya hear?”

“Nonsense, Mammon, I have no intention of harming them, I just want to talk. Calmly.”

“Yeah? Well I don’t think they’re in the mood for talkin’.” Mammon did his best to let his body block the entrance to the room, his shoulders nearly touching both sides of the door frame as he made his stature appear bigger. Lucifer peered over his younger brother’s figure, spotting MC sitting with their legs crossed on top of the bed, mostly calmed down as well, refusing to look at him. He noted the tear stains on their cheeks, and he resorted to having to clench his own teeth to stop the bubbling guilt rising up in his chest. He would make this right, if he couldn’t do this, how could he possibly call himself the wise and mature older brother?

“It’s...okay, Mammon,” MC assured him. The demon of greed scoffed, stating much too loudly that he would be right outside the door. He threatened his older brother not to even think about laying a single finger on them, unafraid of any punishment when it came to protecting MC. Lucifer waved him away with a single hand, too exhausted to deal with him further. As the door shut, he strode over to MC’s bed, chin high but spirits low. He had no intention of apologizing first, but if he could just persuade MC to start, he might be able to swallow enough pride to follow.

“Have we calmed down now?” He asked, MC simply nodding in response. “Very well.” He paused for a moment, letting an uncomfortable silence settle over the room. He did have many things he wanted to say, things he wanted to rectify, but for the life of him, he couldn’t bring himself to say them. Not yet. “Did you have anything you wanted to say to me?”

He observed them fight back their irritation before slumping their shoulders as they gave in. “I’m sorry, Lucifer.”

“And?” His voice sounded like a parent scolding a child, causing MC to nearly flinch in humiliation.

They bit their lip. “And the things I said to you were uncalled for. I know how much you do for all of us...for me.” They sat up a bit straighter as they stammered over the thoughts they wanted to say, to explain their feelings. They were afraid to be honest and vulnerable, much like he was, but they had the courage and humility to be open. It was a trait he secretly admired. “I just...I’m finding it difficult to--to find the--the energy and motivation to make everyone happy. And...and it hurt when…” They looked down, swallowing their emotions once more as they halted their watery eyes from crying again.

Lucifer let his body unwind ever so slightly. It would be rude of him now to not follow their example. “I...regret my words and my actions. I allowed my emotions to get the best of me, it won’t happen again.” He let the conversation fall once more as he took the time to straighten his coat around his shoulders and his gloves tighter over his fingers. “It was not my intention to invalidate your efforts. You’ve already accomplished more than I originally thought you were capable of, and it was foolish on my part to expect more from a simple human.” His rather backhanded compliment forced MC to rest their face in their hands in shame. The nerves in Lucifer’s spine shot a jolt up his back as he realized how terribly this was going. His temples were pounding, and he finally put his pride aside for the sake of reconciliation. He couldn’t stand to be the cause of their distress. MC stiffened as he sat himself beside them on their bed. A gentle hesitant hand hovered above their body before it settled between their shoulder blades. He glanced at the door where he knew Mammon was behind, probably listening in, and so he spoke softer. “I’m...sorry.” He had to ignore how harshly the words hurt him, but something about it was freeing. “I seem to have pushed you too far. I am thankful and truthfully astonished of what you’ve done during your time here. Not only did I cross a line today but I was blind to the fact that you’ve been overtaxing yourself. I know how hard it is to juggle my siblings and my work.”

He allowed his hand to drift up and down their back in a soothing rhythm, relaxing some himself as their muscles eased at his touch. MC finally raised their head from the confines of their palms and looked him in the eyes. “Do you think I’m a disappointment? A burden?” He found himself stunned for the second time today, and for a while he wondered when it was that he could be so easily swayed by the words and emotions of this human. Here he was, not only apologizing, but expending every effort he had in consoling them. He wanted MC to be happy again, because somehow it seemed to make his days a little brighter, his mood a little softer. Perhaps...he cared more for them than he realized. Their shouts had wounded him deeply at dinner, but somehow these new words hurt him more. Their forlorn face spurred an unfamiliar pain in his chest.

“I’m sure it will be hard to convince you after the unforgivable things I said to you today, but it could not be further from the truth. I suppose the fact that you question yourself is one of my biggest failures. Clearly, we have not been communicating properly. For that I am..s...sor…” The words got caught in his throat. Apologizing once had been difficult enough, a second time seemed impossible. Out of the blue, he felt a tight set of arms wrap around his torso. He held his arms up in the air, his body turning rigid as his little hairs stood up on end. MC had pulled him into a tight hug, burying their face in his side. He felt their nose nestle against his ribs. As soon as he found his breath, his arms slowly lowered, settling around the smaller human. His body felt warm. Allowing himself a small smile, he cleared his throat. “I would prefer a situation like this to never happen again, do you understand?” MC detached from his sides, sitting back up as they nodded silently. “So, for the future, instead of quarreling with me, I expect you to come straight to me to discuss any woes or issues you may have. Fair enough?”

“Yes, Lucifer.”

He gingerly brushed his fingers against MC’s cheeks. “But it would be remiss of me to ignore the faults of my own. Since our meal was interrupted, what do you say to me taking you out to dinner, as my way of making amends?”

MC felt themselves blush a bit. “Sure-”

The door burst open, Mammon leading the charge as the rest of the siblings spilled into the doorway. They’d all been eavesdropping. Mammon came over and tugged MC further away from Lucifer. “Oi, what did I say about touching MC?!”

“And our dinner was interrupted too, I think we deserve something!” Asmo whined.

A loud grumble echoed from Beel’s gut. “I’m starving…”

Lucifer’s eyelid twitched a bit, and he gave MC one last apologetic look before he sighed. “Fine...we’re all going to dinner then.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x mc

1K notes · View notes

nerevar-quote-and-star · 2 years

Note

For the Soft OC ask game:

Do they talk to their pets?

Forehead kisses or hand kisses?

What's a guilty pleasure of theirs?

Your OC is surrounded by puppies/kittens/ducklings. What do they do?

Do they have a comfort food? Who makes it best?

For any/all (as you choose): Avarenya, Jolinar Aren, Bellatrix Farstern, Oromis, Chatin Grys

I had this finished last week and nearly forgot it because someone had me working on an art project, but here you go! It's long, so I hope that makes up for the wait! Thanks!

Do they talk to their pets?

Avarenya, Jolinar, and Chatin definitely talk to their pets. Jolinar talks to them as if she's holding a conversation with another person, while Avarenya talks to them in a mommy voice as if they're her kid or something. Chatin not only talks to them, but he talks FOR them, and makes them sound ridiculously diabolical. It's darkly funny.

Bellatrix? Talk to an animal? Only Shadowmere, and that's because Bella knows Shadowmere is smarter than most of the Brotherhood (don't tell them she said that, though)!

As for Oromis . . . only once he becomes the Mad God, and then every animal talks back to him, too.

Forehead kisses or hand kisses?

Avarenya forehead kisses everyone. Martin, Jena, Baurus, the other Blades, her fellow Fighters Guild associates. She's very physically affectionate with the people she likes, and she likes a lot of people. Since she's a taller Altmer chic, she finds forehead kisses the easiest. But she doesn't do it tenderly. Not usually. It's more like an enthusiastic smack whenever she's excited. Especially when she's excited.

Chatin is just as enthusiastic with hand kisses. Every woman he's ever met has been kissed by him twice because he wanted to taste both hands. Conversely, Oromis only kisses hands in court and during visits between the Altmer aristocracy just because that's what was expected of him. He's otherwise not terribly physically affectionate, but has been known to kiss Avarenya on the side of her head.

Bellatrix doesn't put her lips on anything. Not another person, not a pet, not unknown substances. She's too careful and too cautious to risk it. But if she pressed her lips to Antoinetta Marie's pale face and limp hair in the stillness of a silent sanctuary, she wouldn't admit it.

Jolinar kisses her closest friends and her brother's cheeks, but otherwise she's usually the recipient of the tender and more gallant displays of affection.

What's a guilty pleasure of theirs?

Does Jolinar's entire career as a thief qualify? She didn't mean for it to become such an involved hobby, but it did, and now she's the guild master in Riften while also trying to maintain her reputation at the College, and just. She loves stealing things. She loves the challenge and manipulating magic and the mundane under people's noses. But at the same time, she's aware of the harm she's caused doing it. She knows she was raised better than this. But she's just so good at it? Why stop now when she's so far ahead?

Oromis likes the occult. He shouldn't. It's dangerous and lacks the structured respectablity of the Mages Guild. Still, it doesn't hurt to look, right? . . . right? It's how he got involved with the Nerevarine anyway.

Avarenya's guilty pleasure is her freedom. She was an only daughter in a noble house, beautiful and talented, and she threw it all away — she ran away — and while she does not regret leaving Summerset to discover herself, the lingering guilt of what her leaving has done to her family still has a hold of her.

You'd think for assassins like Chatin (Morag Tong) and Bellatrix (Dark Brotherhood) that they might have some internal moral dilemma that puts their lines of work in conflict with their better conscience. No. Chatin's just obsessed with sugar. He will eat you out of mushroom tower and home to consume all your sugary snacks. He cares . . . a little bit but not really. Bellatrix, on the other hand, builds friendships, even though she knows they all end badly and she'll be alone again. She can't help but seek that people connection dispute what it eventually does to her. They both can't help but seek satisfaction now even if it hurts them later.

Your OC is surrounded by puppies/kittens/ducklings. What do they do?

Cute baby animals? Everywhere? Give Avarenya a bluebird and an apple because she just became Snow White. It's play sing and dance time!

Oromis will not play with them. But if they nestle on his lap, what's it to anyone if he strokes their soft tiny bodies so gently they fall to sleep?

Chatin is fond of cats. He's a cat person (you know how hard it is to find a cat that's not a Alfiq trolling everyone? Very). He may cuddle a few kittens, but otherwise he's not really going to go out of his way to do anything with a bunch of baby animals. If they've got him surrounded, he'll totally freak and shoot off like a rocket.

Bellatrix thinks they're cute. How could anyone not? She'd definitely caress their tiny bodies with gentle fingers and sing them lullaby like sea shanties from Stros M'Kai.

Jolinar wouldn't know what to do with them. The only pet she's ever had is her horse, and he's bigger than her. A bunch of tiny animals mewling and squeaking as they crawl over and around her is going to leave Jolinar sitting there in confusion. Seriously, what's happening?

Do they have a comfort food? Who makes it best?

Oromis and Avarenya grew up eating pork dumplings made hot and spicy by the elderly cook in their parents' manor house in Cloudrest. Those were the best. Sure, pork dumplings can be found throughout Cyrodiil, but they don't taste as sweet (and Avarenya can never get hers as spicy) as the ones from Cloudrest. Still, even bland pork dumplings remind them of home.

Bellatrix grew up in a tavern in Port Hunding, always flitting between the kitchen and the barroom. Early every Sundas, Bella would help her mother bake pistachio cookies. That was Their Thing. Bella's favorite cookie made with her favorite person. Since she ran away to Cyrodiil, she's not made pistachio cookies. She found some in a bakery in Anvil, once, but they weren't the same. She gave the rest to Antoinetta Marie.

When Jolinar was a kid growing up in Winterhold, her dad would often buy salmon and potato patties for her as a treat. But lots of things have changed since the Great Collapse. The single inn doesn't serve them anymore, and Jolinar's not comfortable in there anyway. She's got a recipe she found in an old cookbook lost behind some alchemical texts in the Arcanaeum, so maybe she'll try to make them herself one of these days when things slow down.

Two words: marshmerrow pudding. Chatin loves sugar, and marshmerrow pudding is like a bowl of sugary heaven.

soft oc asks | character masterlist

13 notes · View notes

absolutebl · 3 years

Text

This Week in BL

May 2021 Wk 3

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs.

It’s a cray cray Friday when Vietnam gets its eng subs up before GMMTV Thailand. What alter-reality are we in? Well, the Vietnamese offerings are better right now anyway. (Oooo, feel that burn.)

Ongoing Series - Thai

Top Secret Together Ep 2 - pulping it up in the best possible way. Sure sound and production values are pants, and in classic Thai fashion the editing in post is exacerbating (rather than fixing) pacing issues, but it’s still CUTE AF. I don’t even mind the added university storyline, because they’ve got good chemistry (and a confident gay fresher after a panicked gay hazer is an old favorite... what can I say, SOTUS was my first love). We aren’t spending too much time with any one couple, so it’s weighted a lot better than Brothers was, but also character development is slow.

Siew Sum Noi Ep 2 - Unfortunately, it’s just too hard to find, plus no subs. I’m dropping it in the hopes it comes back on my radar some day.

Y-Destiny Ep 8 - (Thurs) It’s rough having a ghost boyfriend, half your friends are scared, the other half think you’re crazy, and kissing shortens your lifespan. This was a cute couple even if I wasn’t wild about the surrounding story.

Close Friend Ep 5: (Dear My Star/JimmyTommy) - about high school penpals. It had to rely entirely on voice over work as the actors only meet face to face at the end. It’s a good thing they are appealing screen presences on their own, with good vocal control. It’s hard to imagine any other BL pair carrying this kinda plot. It’s by far my favorite of the series so far, and I’m not even a big JimmyTommy fan.

Fish Upon The Sky Ep 7 - no subs. Do we care? Not really. Because we have...

Nitiman Ep 3 - currently my favorite out of Thailand. It’s the university Thai BL i’ve been waiting for since... when was the last good one? My Engineer? Yowza. Anyway we got: head on my shoulder, baby is a floppy drunk (but still wants to be in control), proximity alert, boyfriend’s closet, seme gets seriously jelly, and a cute twist on feeding him. There’s something fun and complex about Jin’s character. He’s not a panicked bi. He knows exactly what’s going on, he just hasn’t decided if he wants Bb or not. He clearly enjoys being looked after, the compliments, and the attention, but he’s not sure if he’s going to like what happens if he gives in. I like that twist on the usual tsundere uke archetype a lot, cautious rather than willfully obtuse or freaked out. We can see Jin realizing in stages: I like this person, I like that they like me, I like the romantic attentiveness. But in the background is... do I actually want to f*k him? It’s a dynamic we don’t often see on BL.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

HIStory 4: Close To You (Taiwan) Ep 10 fin - the most ridiculous show using BLs worst tropes in a sort of weird smoothie of bitter greens and too ripe banana. The ending was the sappiest cheesiest thing ever, like cheese syrup tapped from the cheese tree. So of course I loved it, but I’m pretty sure I giggled through all the bits meant to be profound. Because, in the end, to tolerate this show at all, you just can’t take ANY of it seriously. RECOMMENDED (with some SERIOUS reservations and trigger warnings.) Full review here.

Be Loved in House: I Do (Taiwan) Ep 1-2 - I don’t mind a damaged seme character but this one is a bit weird for me. Like creepy Cheese in the Trap level weird. On the bright side, the story has given our tsundere uke good motivation for his angst and great existing friendships, loyalty, and likability. Plus I’m invested in the cafe owner/innocent puppy side dishes. So if it’s only the seme character I’m not jiving with, and he’s the most established actor, it should all turn out fine. I believe in you, Taiwanese BL.

Papa & Daddy (Taiwan) Ep 6 fin - speaking of belief. This such a good show but they gave us a cliffhanger ending. Now we must hope against hope for season two. That’s never guaranteed with Taiwan tho. So, I’m docking a few points and saying, RECOMMENDED so long as you realize it’s a cliffhanger.

Love is Science? (Taiwan) Ep 1-9 (BL subplot) - this is a good het romance, but the fact that the BL subplot is a beautifully acted disaster bi + confident gay means you’re hearing about it whether you want to or not. Plus they just added in some GL! Come on! I gotta support Taiwan normalizing queer to this extent. They are fighting the good fight and if I also have to watch a career lady and her much younger softest straight boi get it on, too? Twist my arm with that service sub subtext. Go on Taiwan, TWIST IT. It’s on Viki. Join the revolution. * Incidentally if you actually like the D/s het dynamic of this show, I highly recommend Japanese Kimi wa Petto - career woman keeps a hot young dancer boy as a pet. Oh yes, an actual pet, that IS the pitch. Never doubt Japan when kink is on the line. It’s also on Viki. Go get your kink on, thank me later. (If it helps: That was not a request.)

Most Peaceful Place 2 (Vietnam) Ep 2 (AKA 5) - love triangles aren’t my thing, but if you’re gonna do it short form, by all means bring in the lead’s other BL pairing so the chemistry is on point. Now I've no idea who I want him to end up with. Can’t they just be in a poly triad?

My Lascivious Boss (Vietnam) Ep 7 - I’m still enjoying it a lot. It’s still unabashedly queer and the tension is ramping up. We now have secret identity, blackmail, femme fatale, faen fatale, and incoming seme confrontation. Best of all, the series is still airing, which makes it longer than any other Vietnamese BL I’ve seen (aside from Tein Bromance - which is just too weird to count).

Gossip - Thai BL

SEVEN PROJECT TEASERS

No one is entirely sure what Studio Wabi Sabi’s Seven Project/7Project will entail.

It might be like Close Friend (1 episode per couple, no linking),

or Y-Destiny (2 episodes per couple, loosely linked),

or The En of Love (4 episodes per couple, linked but independent consecutive stories).

They’re giving the couple’s arcs separate titles. So each one would be what? Seven Project: Once Upon a Time or the like? We’re in Taiwanese title territory people and NO ONE WANTS TO GO THERE. Anygay...

Once Upon a Time is the BounPrem (og UWMA) anchor story, and seems to be the most dramatic and likely saddest. These two can handle most of what’s thrown at them at this juncture, so it should be good.

Vs Love is a BoomPeak (og Make it Right) university vehicle. Since I thought Boom was done with our nonsense, I couldn’t be more thrilled and surprised this pair is doing another show together. I don’t think either of them are the greatest actors but I find Peak very endearing and Boom charismatic on screen, so I’ll watch.

Would You be My Love is the hotly anticipated SantaEarth launch. They’re a (cultivated) IRL ship and Earth is an established BL actor. They have great chemistry and high energy so this could be lots of fun.

We are also getting a GL from this series from established BL actresses Samantha and Pineare. Nothing teased yet on that, but I’m looking forward to this installment the most. Also curious to see how the ladies handle the branding and promo side, not to mention the culture. (Thailand variety shows gonna force *girls* to play the Pepero game?)

Secret Crush on You upcoming Thai BL with no release date, co-produced by and featuring (but NOT staring) Saint and directed by Cheewin (sigh) with all fresh faces. (Previously known as Stalker the series.) It looks like pure pulp and I’m not wild about the plot but could be better than expected as it’s adapted from a novel. Cheewin is an okay director when he has an actual story to follow.

Don’t Say No the series. Coming from the producers of TharnType this is the JaFirst vehicle many have been waiting for. Friends to lovers + a good boy/bad boy pairing on a sports romance foundation. It’s basketball so they tapped Meen as well (he’s semi-pro). The bad news? You get one guess as to who is writing the darn thing? Yep it’s MAME. So, ya know, expect some slam dunk kidnapping, a light dribbling of rape, and me turning into a basketcase. AKA...

Will I have to live blog this series in order to survive it? That seems to be the only way I can. So probably. Which means the bad sports puns will continue. Look, if I’m suffering, SO ARE YOU!

Rumors of a new YinWar vehicle The Best Story (mini series) coming in July. Also rumors that their previously announced Love Mechanics (full length series) has either been delayed, is facing money issues, or is moving studios, or all three.

Breaking News

DELAYED (I’m talking these three off the watch list until we get new airing dates)

Love Area’s release was pushed out but it got a trailer.

Golden Blood was supposed to drop Weds but comments in MDL report that it is delayed due to C19.

Love’s Outlet (Taiwan) is supposed to have started a 50 episode run (only 3-5 min each, what utter nonsense). Sadly, this delay is due to a surge in cases in Taiwan which was doing so well, but also doesn’t have many inoculations.

Bad Buddy has started workshopping at GMMTV actual.

Kang Insoo’s BTS for Nobleman Ryu’s Wedding is SO FLIPPING CUTE. You have to watch it. Trust me, I don’t rec behind the scenes stuff often.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Some shows may be listed later than actual air date for International accessibility reasons.

Upcoming 2021 BL master post here.

Links to watch are provided when possible, ask in a comment if I missed something.

148 notes · View notes

sergeantsporks · 3 years

Text

Another Shot at Life

Rating: General Audiences, Gen

TW: Child abuse, emotional manipulation

Ao3

Hunter accidentally makes his way into the human realm and can't get back home. But he's discovering that might not be such a bad thing.

Ch 1/?: Someplace Strange

“HUNTER!”

Hunter sprinted through the hallways, gasping. He’d really done it this time—there was no bouncing back, was there?

“Have to find somewhere to hide,” he muttered. He ducked into the throne room, slipping behind the completed door. Surely no one would risk hitting Belos’ prized project just to get at him. “Just have to—”

Oh, Hunter, Belos’ voice echoed around him, you cannot hide in this castle. I can find you anywhere.

Hunter yipped, backing into the door. It started to glow, and he yanked his hand away. “The blood,” he gasped, “It must have leaked from the key when I took it from Blight!” He glanced around. No. He couldn’t hide in this castle, and there wasn’t much of a chance of him getting out without being caught. He looked back at the door, and slowly put his palm on it. The door started to glow again.

Hunter—Hunter, no, you stop that this instant. You cannot hide there, either, the human realm—

Hunter stepped through the portal.

Hunter!

The moment he was through, it closed up behind him. Hunter dropped to his knees with a whump.

He’d really done it.

He’d run away.

To the human realm.

What had he been thinking?!

The portal was gone—he was trapped here, now, with no way back.

Something thumped in the creepy old house he’d emerged in, and he ducked behind the stairwell, whipping out his staff. When the whatever-it-was finally came down the stairs, he jumped out with a yell, swinging his weapon.

He immediately landed in a tripwire that yanked on his leg. He fell with a yelp, struggling backwards, which just made it tighter.

“Whoa—hey, hang on, stop pulling, you’ll just make it tighter!”

The thing. It was just a human. Relief warred with caution, and Hunter scrambled for his staff. “Stay back!”

The human kicked the staff to the side, kneeling down next to him. “Hey, there. I won’t hurt you. You’re… not from around here, are you?”

Hunter surged forward and bit her hand. He was not going to get taken hostage by some human!

“Ow!” she yelped, yanking back, “Hey! I’m trying to help!”

Hunter rolled over on his back, sitting up and tugging on the wire around his ankle. “I—don’t—need—any—”

“You need to give it some slack, or you won’t be able to undo it!” the human approached him cautiously, her hands up. “Just let me help you.”

Hunter scooted away, in the direction of the line. “I knew that!” He undid the pin, and slowly pulled his foot out of the loop, reaching into his cloak pocket for his dormant palisman.

“I thought I gathered all of the traps up, but I guess I missed a—”

The human yelped, as Hunter threw his palisman at her. It came to life and attacked, pecking at her and beating around her head with its wings. Hunter made a break for the door. “Come on!”

His palisman left the woman and perched on his shoulder as he tore out of the house and down a path. “Good work, buddy!”

“Hey, wait!” the woman called from behind him, “You don’t know anything about this wo—”

Hunter ran right out onto a strange black path, and a massive hunk of metal barreled towards him, the lights on it blinding. He reached for his staff, but he must have left it back at the creepy house, because it wasn’t there. The hunk of metal screeched to a stop as he stumbled backwards, tripping over his cape.

“HEY! WHY WERE YOU JUST STANDING THERE, YOU CRAZY COSPLAYER?!”

The woman from the house caught up, panting, and waved. “I’m sorry!” she called, hauling Hunter up to his feet, “One of Luz’s friends!”

She pulled Hunter away, her grip on his arm tight, but not tight enough to hurt. “That was crazy, you’re going to get yourself killed out here!”

“Lemme go! Who are you?!”

“I’m Camila Noceda. You can call me Camila. You’re from the Boiling Isles, right?”

Hunter wrenched his arm out of her grasp. “How do you know?! Who are you?!”

“I’m just a human. But…” Camila took a deep breath. “Any chance you met my daughter? Luz Noceda, she’s about your age, brown hair—”

“You’re Luz’s mother?!” Hunter facepalmed. “Of all the—I don’t know what she’s told you, but—”

“You know Luz!” Camila grabbed his hands. “Is she okay? How is she doing over there? Is she any closer to getting back—OH! Wait, you got through! How’d you do it? Can you take me there?”

Wait. He could work with this. Hunter disentangled his hands from Camila’s. “I will tell you everything I know. If you help me.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to—okay. Sure. Come on. Here’s your stick thing.”

Hunter snatched his staff from her hands. “This is an incredibly dangerous—just… don’t touch it, okay?”

“Mmm. Okay. Sure. Follow me, uh…”

“Hunter.”

“Any last name?”

“No.”

“Alright...”

Camila started walking back down the road, and Hunter jogged to keep up. “So—where exactly would be a good place for me to start… looking for a job, I guess?”

“Psssht. You’re what, fourteen?”

“Sixteen!” Hunter snapped. Oh, a fine time for his voice to crack, wonderful.

“Mmm. Yeah, sixteen, no social security, no identification of any kind, no kind of formal education, not even a last name—good luck finding a job. Do you mind… telling me why you decided to come here?”

Hunter’s palisman nuzzled his face, and he gently patted its head.

“I’m going to tell the emperor.”

“I was… running from someone.”

“Oh.” Camila hissed through her teeth. “Ayiyi. I suppose I can see why you’d be friends with Luz.”

Oh. She had… quite the wrong idea. Well. No harm in letting her keep thinking that.

Camila strode up a front drive of a house, opening a door. “Vee!” she called, “Come down, there’s someone I want you to meet!”

Vee? Who was—

Luz came down the stairs. Well—wait. Not Luz? She had strange, reptilian eyes, and spots on her cheeks, and her ears were—not human.

“Watch out, that’s a basilisk!” Hunter yelped.

When the basilisk saw him, she let out an ear-piercing shriek and dove back upstairs. “Vee!” Camilla called, pounding up the stairs, “What’s the matter?”

“That’s a basilisk!” Hunter yelled, charging up the stairs after her, “They’re shapeshifters—dangerous—”

“Vee’s not dangerous,” Camila growled. She knocked on a door. “Vee? What’s wrong?”

“That’s a coven guard!” the basilisk called, “He’s here to take me away!”

Camilia whipped around towards Hunter, a dangerous light in her eyes. “Is that true?”

Hunter backed up. “No! I didn’t even know she was here!”

“Liar!” Vee yelled from behind the closed door.

“I am not a liar!”

“Vee, he says he’s one of Luz’s friends.”

Hunter winced. Okay, that might actually be a dangerous lie in the long run. “Well—I never said—”

Camila face-palmed. “You don’t actually know Luz at all, do you.”

“I mean—I wouldn’t say—I do know her.”

“He’s a coven guard!” Vee yelled, “He probably tried to kill her!”

“Hunter…”

“Kill is such a strong word, I mean, I never really had the intent of killing her, I just sort of threatened her a little bit and—ehhhh what were we talking about, again?”

Camila crossed her arms. “Full story. Now.”

Hunter gulped. “Look, I told you the truth—I was running. I got in some really hot water, and I panicked, and I came through the portal, but what I really need now is to go back, I can’t—I shouldn’t have run. Oh, he’s going to be so mad.” Panic spiraled through him just thinking about it. “Oh, titan. I am in so much trouble. He’s going to kill me.”

“Probably,” Vee growled.

“Vee!” Camila scolded. She reached out, and he flinched away. She held her hands up in surrender. “Calm down. Who were you running from?”

The door opened a crack, and the basilisk peered out at him. “Yeah, who does a coven guard need to run from?”

Hunter hesitated. “I mean—I wasn’t really running from—I did something I shouldn’t have—and I was running away from what I did—I wouldn’t say that there was a person, per se—”

“Who, Hunter?”

Hunter blinked hard. “My—the emperor.”

Vee’s door was flung wide open, and she stared at him, open-mouthed. “You were running away from the emperor?!” She squinted at him. “Wait a minute…”

Don’t figure it out, don’t figure it out, don’t figure it out—

“You’re the golden guard!” Vee blurted, “Camila, he’s not just a coven guard, he’s the head of the coven guards!”

Camila frowned. “Why were you running from the emperor?”

Hunter took in a shaky breath. “I… I fought another coven member.” He reached out to pat his palisman again, making sure it was still there. “She found out that I had Red here.”

“Aw, is that its name?”

“No. Just a nickname. Anyway, she threatened to tell the emperor that I had it, and…” He reached again for Red, and the bird snuggled against his face, warbling reassuringly. “I shouldn’t have attacked Kikimora. It—that was wrong of me, and I need to go back.” He bit his lip. “I don’t know where I’m going to stash Red, though. Maybe… maybe you should stay here?”

The cardinal nipped his ear. Hard.

“Ow!”

“I think the answer to that is no,” Camila offered. “Hunter, if you fought this—this Kikimora, why are you running from the emperor?”

“Did I say—uh, no, I’m running from Kikimora, because running from the emperor would be ridiculous, I mean, why would I be running away from him? I think I said—”

“No, you definitely said the emperor,” Vee interrupted. He shot her a glare.

Camila rubbed her arms. “Hunter, I don’t want to be nosy. But… is everything okay for you at home?”

Hunter laughed, maybe a bit hysterically. “Everything is—it’s fine! I’m fine. Home is fine. And I need to be getting back there. The emperor will be mad, sure, but he’ll be madder if I stay, so I need to—”

“Ahhhh, Hunter? I’m not sure you can get home. The fact that you even managed to get here is—it’s incredible, Luz hasn’t been able to get home to me. It’s hard enough getting to here from there, and getting from here to there? I don’t think it’s even possible without someone reaching out from the other side.”

Hunter’s heart thudded in his chest. “Don’t say it—”

“I’m afraid you’re stuck here.”

#I PROMISE i will give him a happy ending this time guys i SWEAR i will #toh #toh fanfiction #toh hunter #camila noceda #vee noceda #emperor belos #my writing

98 notes · View notes