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foxghost · 3 years

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Joyful Reunion, Chapter 34

Translator: foxghost @foxghost tumblr/ko-fi1 Beta: meet-me-in-oblivion @meet-me-in-oblivion tumblr Original by 非天夜翔 Fei Tian Ye Xiang Masterpost | Characters, Maps & Other Reference Index

Book 1, Chapter 9 (part 3)

Duan Ling wakes with a violent start.

The bell is tolling on and on, one ring after another; from the outside comes the cries of panic. He immediately reaches out for the sword he keeps by the bed, and out of the furor he manages to discern one phrase, “The Mongol army is here!”

This is the second attack by Mongolian forces on Shangjing in two years, and the last time they attacked it was nearing autumn as well; it just so happens that a year has gone by since. Duan Ling straps his sword on at once, and takes down the longbow hanging in the parlour. As soon as he reaches the back courtyard he sees boulders and flaming canisters being tossed into the city. Fire has begun to spread.

People are running around in the streets crying fire, and Duan Ling passes through another street, to join a group passing buckets of water. Soon, another boulder flies into the city.

“This place won’t hold!” Duan Ling calls out, “Everyone, flee to the northern district —!”

The western district of Shangjing is in complete chaos — the Mongol army has somehow made it to the city gates without drawing anyone’s attention. Flames are shooting up everywhere, and siege ladders have already been placed against the western gate; there are even Mongolian soldiers who fought their way into the city, raising their weapons high.

The city hasn’t been captured yet! We were only attacked by surprise! Duan Ling leaps onto the roof, draws his longbow, and kills an isolated Mongolian soldier. Another soldier who’s stolen a horse passes through the back street, setting fires wherever he goes, and Duan Ling shoots him off his horse too.

By the time he fires the third arrow the enemy has already discovered him, and they come at him with loud curses, turning a heavy crossbow on him. Duan Ling steps behind the eaves and does a flip over the edge of the roof. Sword in hand, he detours around the back courtyard, and with one thrust of his sword he kills another man.

The city guard rushes forth from all directions to cut down the invading enemy, and at long last they manage to contain the chaos. And yet the war drums are starting to beat outside the city; Yelü Dashi arrives hurriedly with his troops, closing the city gates entirely, barring all entry.

At daybreak, Duan Ling runs over to Cai Yan’s house. The Cai estate’s gates are closed and barred, and he doesn’t find anyone there; Duan Ling heads to Helian Bo’s house then and no one is there either. The streets are in a state of total disarray, some people are resorting to reciting the sutras while others simply focus on fleeing. Duan Ling is left with little option but to go home again, and when he gets there he finds a girl outside his door waiting for him. He knows that she’s from the Viburnum, but he can’t quite recall her name.

“Mister Duan, the madam would like to invite you over to the Viburnum,” the girl says with a bow.

Duan Ling puts the bow on his back and follows her. Gradually, Shangjing calms down, and occasionally one can hear the whimper of someone crying. The afternoon sun is such a bright white that it stings his eyes. When they arrive at the Viburnum the girl tells him, “Please rest here, Mister Duan. Once the madam finishes the work she has on hand she will ask to see you.”

“Go on,” Duan Ling says.

Before the girl leaves, Ding Zhi has come to see him. They nod at each other and Ding Zhi asks him, “Would you like something to eat, sir? I’ll get something made right away.”

“There’s no need to trouble yourselves.”

Ding Zhi bows and withdraws from the room then. Duan Ling drinks some water, eats a bit of pastry to satisfy his hunger, and puts down his sword and bow before stepping out of the room. He jumps onto the wall hoping to see into the distance but finds black smoke rising in every direction; he simply leaps onto the roof then, and with his feet on the roof tiles he sits there, looking out at the city.

“The madam begs for an audience,” a silvery voice below him says.

Duan Ling glances down; Xunchun has arrived. She sends her attendants away before bowing to him.

“What’s going on?” Duan Ling asks.

“Not long ago, during the civil war in the south, whenHis Highness and Zhao Kui confronted each other before Jianmenguan, Zhao Kui urgently redeployed thirty thousand troops away from the east road’s Yubiguan and made them march south.” Xunchun says grimly, “He was hoping to attack Jiangzhou by surprise and cut off His Highness’s escape, causing him to face enemies on both sides. However, while the soldiers were redeployed, there was no battle. Before the reinforcements arrived, Mu Kuangda coordinated in a plot with His Highness and Jianmenguan surrendered.”

“Within two days.” Xunchun looks into the courtyard. “The entire Xichuan road was recovered. The bells were tolled nine times at Mount Wenzhong; his Third Highness took charge of the city of Xichuan.”

“At the same time, since the garrison within Yubiguan had been greatly weakened, the Mongolians climbed over the natural border of Mount Jiangjun to invade Liao. They went right past Huchang and came directly for Shangjing. Three days ago, they dispatched a squad disguised as foreign traders and sent them into Shangjing. Once inside the city, they launched an ambush and killed the gate guards, opening the city gates. Thankfully, they were discovered in time and the western gate remains secure.”

Xunchun finishes, “There are ten thousand Mongolian soldiers outside, marching without hindrance. All that’s left inside the city are two thousand city guards and ten thousand troops. Before the enemy could surround the city, the Northern Prince sent messengers toward south and west asking for reinforcements.”

“What about my grandfather?”

“He’s dead. Before His Highness left, he told me that as soon as the situation in the south is set, whether the one to accede to the throne is himself or the Fourth Prince, you will be the heir-apparent. We must treat you with all the courtesy one would give the emperor.”

Duan Ling gives her a nod.

“That’s why Your Highness mustn’t do anything dangerous. If you need anything, please ask.”

“Thanks.” Duan Ling jumps down from the flying eaves. Xunchun turns away and leaves with graceful steps.

He has no idea where Cai Yan has gone. Duan Ling begins staying at the Viburnum from that night on. Inside its walls it feels like nothing ever happened; outside it’s as clamorous as before, but the women are making Double Seven Festival pastries in the Viburnum’s garden. Duan Lilng notices that whenever he passes through an occupied place, whether men or women, everyone at the Viburnum would stop and bow to him.

He worries about Cai Yan, worried that after Cai Wen’s death he’ll seek revenge for his older brother without regard for his life, and so he sends people to search for his whereabouts.

Xichuan.

Li Jianhong is sitting on the imperial throne; the chair itself was brought here all the way from the former capital, but alas the land where this chair used to sit has already become Khitan territory.

“Even years ago, father was already in ill health,” Li Jianhong says.

Li Yanqiu stands in a corner looking through the window panes. Shafts of twilight slant into the room one by one.

“I still remember how we used to chase each other around in front of that chair when we were little.” Li Yanqiu says, “In the blink of an eye, so many years have gone by.”

“You be the emperor,” Li Jianhong says.

“You do it.”

“You do it. Not another word out of you. It’s decided.”

Li Yanqiu shakes his head helplessly, but Li Jianhong begins to smile.

“I have a son. You’ll like him when you meet him.”

“Where are you hiding him?”

“Shangjing. In a few days, once you accede, I’ll go get him.”

“I will treat him as my own.”

Li Jianhong nods. The brothers are silent for a long time before Li Yanqiu speaks again, “Are we moving the capital?”

“When it comes down to it, Xichuan is the Mu family’s domain, so let’s leave it to them.” Li Jianhong says gravely. “I have always been opposed to the idea of moving here to Xichuan.”

“You need to be on guard around him.”

“We absolutely cannot hurt him right now. The new court isn’t yet stable, the gentry class have their roots dug well into the government, so all we can do is lie in wait.”

Li Yanqiu heaves a long sigh.

Li Jianhong whistles; it sounds especially abrupt within the palace hall. A guard opens the door and enters.

“Bring that guy in here,” Li Jianhong says. “It’s been long enough.”

Li Yanqiu says, “You should’ve just let Chang Liujun kill him. Why go through all this trouble?”

“I don’t want to kill anymore.” Li Jianhong says wearily, “I’ve killed enough people along the way. And whether or not the Mus want to kill me has nothing to do with this man.”

Soon, his subordinate brings in Wu Du. Wu Du’s face is covered in bruises, all his wounds have been dressed and his hands are wrapped in bandages.

“Speak.” Li Jianhong leans back in the Dragon Throne. Li Yanqiu sits near him, watching Wu Du.

“Your words will decide who lives, and who dies.” Li Jianhong’s eyes are closed. “This includes your own life. Speak.”

Wu Du stares at the white jade bricks on the floor in silence; its white tiger pattern is detailed and life-like.

“I didn’t keep you alive because I wanted to see a mute.” Li Jianhong asks, “How much of a hand did Mu Kuangda have in Zhao Kui’s plans?”

“None. Master Wangbei had a disciple who’s also a killer.”

“Mu Kuangda said that?”

“The general said that. He wanted to hire this man to deal with Your Majesty.”

“Did Chancellor Mu agree to this?” Li Jianhong asks.

“No.”

“Did he refuse?” Li Yanqiu asks.

“Not that, either.”

Li Yanqiu laughs. “What an old fox.”

“What else is there?” Li Jianhong says, “If you were one of my people and gave me one answer for every one question like that, I may have chopped off your head before I get to the second question.”

“From the beginning to the end he only ever said he won’t do it. There’s no evidence. But he does intend to be disloyal.”

“If we can convict people for disloyal intentions, who knows how many people would be dead already. Forget it, I’ll let him live for now.”

Wu Du raises his head and looks up at Li Jianhong.

“You can go.” Li Jianhong says, “Go wherever you want."

Wu Du takes a step back, hesitating. Right then, the palace doors open wide and a panting messenger dashes in. He drops to his knees in the hall and raises a dispatch with both hands above his head.

“Mongolian forces have marched south, ten thousand cavalry besieges Shangjing, Yelü Dashi would ask for your help! Your Majesty, please aid Shangjing break the siege!”

Li Jianhong has just come back to Xichuan only to find that his back courtyard has suddenly caught fire; he’s momentarily stunned and at a loss.

The Mongolians really have come too quickly. Zhao Kui had barely redeployed the troops garrisoned at Yubiguan before they flooded in and breached Liao territory. Most troubling of all is that the Khitans seem to utterly lack the strength to resist them — a wide stretch of territory to the north of Huchang is now occupied. Zhongjing has dispatched troops as reinforcements, and Yelü Dashi has immediately recalled the army Li Jianhong borrowed, hoping he can aid them in this dire predicament.

“I believe we should not send troops,” Mu Kuangda says.

The Xichuan palace has waited for nearly ten years, but now they finally have someone in charge whom every functionary must bow to.

However, Li Jianhong’s position hasn’t been made official yet, and his personality also greatly differs from successive emperors who came before. The court functionaries have just managed to escape a purge by Zhao Kui, and now they argue with great devotion to the empire that now is the best opportunity to seize both Liao and Yuan — the reason is quite simple: when the sandpiper and the clam are at war, the fisherman merely has to wait to catch both.

They’ve been waiting to see Yuan and Liao declare war on each other since the Battle of Huai River. Shangzi and the loss of their capital hasn’t been avenged as of yet, so how can he take the liberty to send troops?

Let’s put it this way: all he has to do is return the Khitan army he borrowed.

He can’t break faith with Yelü Dashi and become an object of ridicule, but he can at least take his time getting there, can’t he?

Your Majesty, you defended Shangjing for Yelü Dashi so it’s only right for the Khitans to pay you back.

Li Jianhong merely listens to them impatiently, with the furrow between his brows deepening into a knot.

“Your Majesty?” Mu Kuangda asks tentatively.

“Are you all quite done?”

The officials in the palace hall stare at Li Jianhong. They’ve already heard the rumours regarding Prince of Beiliang’s stubbornness, and it turns out he’s just as obstinate as rumoured.

“Your Majesty.” Mu Kuangda says, “The former emperor is dead, and a nation cannot go without a sovereign even for a single day. You must accede to the throne as soon as possible in order to placate the masses. As for whether to send troops, we can consider that at length. There’s no country in the world who’d send troops to aid its neighbour when it doesn’t even have a lord. Whether for sentimental or logical reasons, it is highly inappropriate.”

“Let’s not be so hasty with the ‘Your Majesty’ — did I agree I’d do it? Go make preparations now. The Fourth Prince will be enthroned tomorrow. Ministry of War, make inventory and get provisions ready. We march by tomorrow afternoon.”

“But we must always choose an auspicious day for the ascension …” says the Director of Astronomy.

Li Jianhong shoots him a look. The Director of Astronomy falls to his knees. “This goes against the customs!”

“Your Majesty.” Mu Kuangda insists, “Seniority is important to the hierarchy. We cannot overstep these bounds. Even the celestial family has to abide by the rules.”

“When Zhao Kui’s underlings had me on the run all over the north,” Li Jianhong blurts out, “How come I didn’t hear any of you say ‘seniority is important to the hierarchy’?”

The hall descend into a solemn silence. There is an obvious threat in what Li Jianhong said — if you won’t let me send troops, then just you wait for me to excavate old grievances.

“Even so, Your Majesty must be enthroned first.” Mu Kuangda finally makes a compromise. “In these desperate times we can finish the ceremony as quickly as possible. Then once Your Majesty can oversee the court, you can send out troops from Yanzhou, and send the Imperial Palace Guards along with the falcon unit to attack the Mongolian defensive perimeter at Yubiguan. Ögedei will then have to turn his army around to save themselves. That way Liao will be out of danger.”

“Liao will be out of danger.” Li Jianhong says coldly, “But there won’t be anything left of Shangjing.”

“The Mongolians are attacking a city, so of course they will massacre that city. Such karma will come back to haunt their descendents. It is no different than how the Khitans’ iron horseshoes trampled Great Chen’s sovereign territory back then. Your Majesty, in all likelihood, Shangjing cannot be defended.”

Li Jianhong doesn’t try to argue with him. Instead, he says, “Let’s dismiss this assembly. Forego the pagentry at tomorrow’s ascension ceremony. Ministry of War, get the provisions ready tonight. If you’re still dragging your feet and haven’t issued the provisions by noon tomorrow, come see me with your own severed head. Assembly dismissed.”

Li Jianhong has listened for ages without letting a single argument move him, and if anyone should pay him lip service without doing any of the work, he’ll surely become the first emperor in history to walk the palace hall with sword in hand to cut his functionaries down where they stand. The officials look at each other, knowing that an era is now past. They each shake their heads and sigh wistfully, but have no choice but to leave.

I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎

#相見歡 #fei tian ye xiang #joyful reunion #xiang jian huan #fox translates things

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the-wlw-cafe · 5 years

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N S F W A - Z: Lena Luthor

okay so nobody requested this but this is a present from myself to myself, because i love myself and i deserve nice things. But feel free to request this for other characters!

Anyway, this is basically 50% Smut and 50% Feelings. PTSD, body image issues and Lillian’s abuse are mentioned, so be safe if any of that might bother you.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Lena needs aftercare after sex. She’s not used to being vulnerable with somebody else, being bare in more ways than one, and it can get overwhelming for her. After the first time you’d made love you were shocked to find her burrowing her face into a pillow to hide the fact she was crying. A few panicked minutes followed, you were worried you did something wrong and she was afraid of ruining everything by being so damn emotional. You did work it out though, and you soon realized that the tears she was shedding were tears of love, a love greater than any she had ever felt before, and this realization had swept the proverbial rug from under her feet.

You’ve gotten a lot better at communicating now, and Lena isn’t ashamed of needing to be held after sex anymore. She just automatically searches out your warmth and clings to you like you’re her rock while you murmur soft praises into her ear, holding her through the twitches of occasional aftershocks. She’s so soft in the afterglow, all the harshness she works so hard to maintain every day completely fade away as she melts into your embrace.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

When Lena thinks back to her mother, her real mother, she always remembers her with green eyes so similar to hers, She doesn’t know if she has fabricated this detail, her memories from a time before the Luthors are blurry at best, and the human mind is notoriously unreliable at recollecting. Still, it can feel like her eyes are the only thing she has left of her mother.

Lena is an arms girl through and through. She’s fascinated by the interplay of muscles under your skin when you do menial work, when you hold her safe and sound, when they’re keeping you aloft suspended above her body as she grinds her hips upwards into you, the way they flex as you pump your fingers in and out of her at an unforgiving pace…

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Lena is a squirter. She tried to warn you the first time she felt it happen, that deep build, that sensation as if she was about to burst, but then you curled your fingers in just the right way and she shattered apart with a scream before she could get the words out. Afterwards, she tried to gather her wits and string a sheepish apology about the bedsheets together, but when she saw you kneeling between her legs, stunned in a state of what could only be described as awe, she decided that maybe the apology could wait. Especially after you immediately dived back in to clean her with your tongue.

D = Dirty Secret

Lena was very sexually active during her time in an all-girls boarding school in Ireland, a devoutly catholic one of all places.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

She’s plenty experienced when it comes to fucking, she can make you come undone in minutes with any combination of her skilled fingers and her clever tongue. What she has little to no experience is making love, being vulnerable. It doesn’t come naturally to her, not in the beginning, at least, but over time she learns that she can be open with you, because you are her safe haven.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying, will probably include a visual)

She loves to have you ride her face, pulling your centre into her mouth roughly while you hold onto the headboard for dear life. She loves the way she can drive you wild with teasing little licks over your clit that are never quite enough, the way she can make you grind your hips into her mouth chasing the feeling of her tongue, coating the entire lower half of her face in slick. But her favourite thing about this position is the way you look down at her, pupils blown wide and so, so intense. When you’re riding her face like this, she can’t help but snake one hand between her own thighs to relieve some of the dull ache.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

Sex for her had always been a quick way to scratch an itch, not a particularly humorous affair. In fact, you’re the one that first makes her realize that no; it doesn’t ruin the mood if you dissolve into silly giggles because you accidentally knocked off her glasses in your eagerness to pull her closer.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they; does the carpet match the drapes etc.)

She keeps everything trimmed, but she lacks the patience for waxing.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Especially in the beginning of your relationship Lena was afraid to show too much intimacy, not because you didn’t mean enough to her, but because she was so afraid that in the end, she’d feel more for you than you felt for her. All her life she’s been told that everything comes down to transactions, to risk and reward, and the risk of putting herself out in the open like that was daunting, paralyzing. She was still waiting for the other shoe to drop and for you to be taken away from her like every other good thing in her life. You were the one who had to take the plunge and say I love you first. But she was the one who said it the second, third, fourth and fifth time, all the while riding your fingers desperately, and she didn’t stop telling you until you were both exhausted and sated.

There are still days where she struggles with showing intimacy, but don’t ever let that fool you into thinking she doesn’t love you more than anything in the world.

Jack Off (Masturbation Headcanon)

Since Lena is on some quite heavy antidepressants and they can make it difficult to really get there when she’s on her own, but she when you’re with her she does love putting on a show for you, and she swears she could come from your expression and the way you curse under your breath as she teases herself for you alone.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Lena has a praise kink a mile wide and that’s just a fact. She loves hearing you tell her what a good girl she is, how pretty she looks stretched around your fingers, how well she’s taking you…

She’s into some restraint play and light BDSM too, but only on the receiving end. This was not always the case, she used to be dominant in a lot of her past relationships and hook-ups, but mostly because it was what was expected of Lena Luthor, the stone cold, cut-throat, domineering CEO. What she really longs for is to let herself go for a while, to give someone else the reigns while she’s just Lena, and with you, she finally found somebody she trusts enough to give herself over.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

It’s a lucky thing that the public doesn’t know what goes on in Lena’s office, because Lena has a serious kink for office sex. You’ve eaten her out on that pristine white sofa, you’ve bent her across the desk and taken her from behind with a strap-on, you’ve pressed her up against the cool glass of a windowpane while husking the dirtiest things into her ear.

You’re pretty sure Jess knows. She hasn’t been able to look you in the eyes for weeks now.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Your strength. And by that I don’t mean physical, although that’s definitely a turn-on in its own right (she is, after all, an arms girl). Seeing you stand up for yourself, holding your own in the world of rich old white men she navigates on the daily despite not being raised into it like she was. The way you don’t let yourself be intimidated by them or bullied for not “belonging” in the circles she is known to be in. It always makes her chest swell with love and fierce pride, and, well, sometimes it makes her pull you buy the hand into the nearest bathroom or closet.

N = NO (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Lena’s been through some shit in her life, from witnessing the death of her mother at age 4 and being carted off into an abusive household to the almost weekly attacks and attempts on her life, and it’s no wonder that she carries enough trauma for a dozen people her age. She struggles with PTSD and she can slip into panic attacks at the drop of a hat. She’s had to safeword on more than one occasion because sometimes, even though everything was fine only moments ago, it suddenly all becomes too much to bear. She trusts you to respect that and, on the occasion a panic attack has her in its grip so tightly that she can’t actually form the word, to read her correctly.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Her experience certainly shines through when giving oral, because she is skilled. She also is a little minx when she has you at her mercy, teasing you and purposefully giving just short of what you need, watching you with undisguised mirth in her eyes as you huff and whine out in frustration, only to suddenly dive in and make you come in a matter of seconds, leaving you gasping for breath as your orgasm crashes through you with the force of a tsunami.

When receiving, however, she is almost an entirely different person. She loves being eaten out, there’s no question, and it seems to awaken something wild in her, something utterly debauched, something almost animal. She’s loud, messy, bucking shamelessly against your mouth, pleading you for harder, faster, more and again.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.)

Lena usually prefers it rough, even when you’re in a romantic, sensual mood. She wants to be able to feel you tomorrow, to have something to remember you by at work, even if it’s just that sweet soreness. With you, however, she takes her time, treating you like the most precious thing in the world because to her, you absolutely are. If you want it harder, you’ll have to ask her. It’s not like she could ever deny you anything.

Q = Quickies (Their opinion on quickies rather than real sex, how often, etc.)

She’ll always prefer the real thing to a quick fix, but she’s a busy woman and there are days where you only see each other during her lunch break, so a quickie in her office will have to do. You will never let her live down the fact that she does, in fact, have designated quickie times in her week planner. Granted, that’s not what they’re called in her planner, but the fact that they’re written in red ink and the words absolutely no disturbances are underlined twice speaks volumes.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks etc.)

There are very few things Lena would outright refuse to try, because she simply wants to make you feel as good as you make her feel. Because of her busy schedule, some of your encounters are definitely on the riskier side in regards to being discovered. Her office, bathrooms at galas, the back of her car when the partition is up: these are all fair game, and if Lena is honest, the risk of being discovered adds a special little thrill for her.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

Lena is usually limited to about 3 rounds. It’s not a problem with her stamina though, as she has no problem making you come undone again, and again, and again, but instead it’s just one more side effect of her antidepressants. So you make sure each round counts, leaving her teetering on the edge for as long as she can bear, making sure she gets every last delicious drop of pleasure.

T = Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Lena can afford the best of the best when it comes to toys. So maybe she has a bit of a kink for spoiling you with the most expensive of toys, showing off priceless lingerie only to have you rip it off of her, watching you pound into her with a ridiculously costly stained glass strap-on? She just likes to play the sugar mama from time to time, fulfilling your every secret wish.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

As mentioned before, Lena can be one hell of a teasing minx, and that doesn’t only apply to the bedroom. She loves seeing the effect she has on you, the way you can’t take your eyes off of her when she’s wearing her designer pantsuits in the boardroom, dressing down men three times her age who sure as hell won’t underestimate again, or when she’s in a tight dress at some fancy gala, whispering in your ear how much she needs you to take her right now before returning back to polite conversation as if nothing had happened. She preens under your attention, loves the way she can get under your skin and keep you wanting, and maybe, just maybe, she loves the way you make her pay for it later on when you’re alone, keeping her on the edge while holding climax just out of reach until she’s begging for it.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

She’s very vocal in bed, from the most wicked of dirty talk to shameless moans and whines after you’ve fucked her into incoherency. And when she completely lets herself go, she’s a total screamer. You thank the heavens for the soundproof walls in her apartment and her office.

W = Wild Card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Years and years of verbal and emotional abuse at Lillian’s hands have left Lena with some body image issues, especially regarding her softer curves that neither Lillian nor her could ever seem to get rid of. No matter how often you tell her how beautiful, stunning, awe-inspiring she looks, there will always be days where she asks you to turn the lights off when you’re about to make love, or ask to keep her shirt on.

X = X-Ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Lena’s thighs are soft and lined with pale red stretch marks. She’s self conscious about them, but you love kissing each and every one, and you love leaving hickies on her creamy skin.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive)

Lena is under a lot of stress, her work and the constant danger she’s in sometimes just don’t permit her to relax enough to even take note of her sex drive. You make a point of regularly taking a time out from all of the chaos in National City with Lena, a weekend away from work and stress, somewhere far off in the mountains or at a secluded beach. It’s a shame, really, that you don’t get to appreciate the scenery very much, because, well, you rarely leave the bedroom during those weekends.

Z = ZZZ (how quickly fall asleep afterwards)

Lena doesn’t think there’s a better place to sleep than in your arms. Usually she has troubles falling asleep, her genius brain refusing to shut off for even a moment, not letting her have any peace or a wink of sleep. But when she’s with you, with nothing on her mind but your smell, your warmth and the delicious soreness in her muscles, her worries for once leave her be and she finally gets a good night’s sleep.

#lemon #lena luthor #lena luthor abc #lena luthor imagine #wlw imagine #lena luthor x reader #supergirl imagine #i will never get over the fact that i unirnically use the citrus scale

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dabidevito · 5 years

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[fic] (loving you had) consequences

read on ao3

rating: m // wc: 2582

tags: major character death, au - time travel, parallel universes

summary: The last dozen or so jumps he’s made have been exhausting, draining nearly all of his core energy each time. He’s been searching and searching for a good timeline to lie down in, one where Phil will hold him and tell him he loves him while the stars reclaim his energy for themselves.

As soon as he opens his eyes, Dan knows that this timeline will be the end for him.

He’s lying on his side in a bed, shirtless and sockless and swathed in warm grey sheets. The blanket lump beside him is decidedly Phil-shaped, a bit of black hair poking out from the top of the duvet.

(He’s woken up in timelines where the lump isn’t Phil-shaped. Those universes are never very good to him.)

Slowly, Dan extracts his limbs from the bedcovers, looking down at his hands and the length of his body. He’s lost himself many times in the depths of some internet forum, in stories of Jumpers waking up with nine toes or all their freckles rearranged, but he’s always looked the same. He gets older or younger but never in any way that matters, never by a metric that can be measured by the human understanding of time. He rubs the palms of his hands together, dissipating the last of his jump energy into the ether, and turns back towards Phil.

Reaching out under the duvet, his hand connects with the bare plane of Phil’s back. With a relieved sigh, he scoots over to press his chest against the sleep-warmed skin, feeling some of the magnetic tension unravel as their bodies come together.

(The ones without Phil are the hardest, a tightly-wound spring wedged under his ribcage with no chance of relief. It’s worse than any physical pain he’s known.)

Phil stirs as Dan wraps his arms around him. He takes in a deep breath of air and stretches his long body in both directions, pressing cold feet back into Dan’s shins before relaxing again. He wiggles around until all the empty spaces between them disappear, finding Dan’s hand and covering it with his own.

“Wh’time is it?” Phil mumbles, the question obscured by the way his face is still smushed into the pillow.

Dan, who knows precisely what time it is in every stretch of every universe, kisses his shoulder and says, “Dunno. Let’s sleep still.”

Phil’s most of the way back there already, his heartbeat slow and steady under Dan’s palm. “Mmm. ‘Kay.”

Dan never sleeps, not when he can have this instead. He lies perfectly still and counts Phil’s breaths, grounds himself against Phil’s solid form and the sharp orange perfume of his shampoo. Without warning, a wave of dizziness sparks gold and white across his vision, and closing his eyes only gives it a stark black canvas for its performance.

It’s then that he knows it with absolute certainty.

It’s the end.

***

Dan, for all the ways that he is timeless and ageless and immune from all the normal laws of the universe, is dying.

He’s suspected it for some time, now, of course. The last dozen or so jumps he’s made have been exhausting, draining nearly all of his core energy each time. He’s been searching and searching for a good timeline to lie down in, one where Phil will hold him and tell him he loves him while the stars reclaim his energy for themselves.

The sun slants through the open windows now, bright and far too warm for April. Idly, Dan wonders if it was him or Phil who forgot to close the blinds last night. Probably Phil. There’s other timelines where it’s always Phil.

Phil’s breathing stutters as the sun shifts to shine directly on his face, and he turns in Dan’s arms to press into his shoulder instead. He hitches one leg up and over Dan’s hip so that he’s lying half on top of him, effectively pinning him to the mattress with his weight.

The stars could take him here, Dan thinks, with his entire right side numb and Phil’s messy bedhead tickling his chin.

But it’s not quite time yet.

***

Phil’s fingers tickle over his ribcage as he wakes.

He stretches his body lazily out and over Dan’s, poking an elbow into his stomach and twisting his wrists around so that they make horrible little cracking sounds. Dan reaches out and catches one hand mid-twist, bringing it to his lips and pressing feather-light kisses to the delicate skin. Phil giggles and arches up to kiss him properly, sleepy and messy and smiling and Dan loves him so much. He just loves him so much.

Phil sits up a bit and feels his way along his bedside table for his glasses, putting them on before flopping back down against the pillows and lolling his head to the side. Dan has a split second of panic, the way he always does in these timelines, before Phil smiles and says, “Oh. Hello.” His voice is startlingly calm, as if he regularly wakes up to time-traveling boyfriends in his bed.

Which, Dan supposes, he kind of does.

He doesn’t know how Phil always manages to tell him and his non-Jumper equivalent apart, and he’s not really keen on finding out. He’s just glad for Phil’s routine acceptance of the magical, the unexplainable. Glad that Phil has never once sent him away, never asked where the real Dan had gone or when he’d be coming back.

“It’s been awhile,” Phil says into the quiet between them.

“Has it?” Dan doesn’t know anymore. He used to try and keep track, wanted to figure out if he could jump to specific timelines or moments. The few times he’d managed it were anomalies, he’s fairly certain. The randomness of the universe is the most dominant force of all.

Phil nods. “Couple years. I was starting to think something had happened to you.”

Dan’s heart lurches in his chest. He hasn’t seen his face yet but he must not look too sick, for Phil to be so close and not see that anything is wrong. He tries to be grateful, that a slow decay means more time here. With Phil.

“I missed you,” Dan says in lieu of any actual explanation. He doesn’t have one, anyway.

Phil smiles, looks up at Dan like he hung each and every star in the sky just for him. “Will you tell me where you’ve been?”

“If you like.”

Phil kisses him again, longer and slower this time. “Coffee first,” he says against Dan’s lips. “You stay here. Don’t leave.”

“I won’t,” Dan says, and it feels like a broken promise.

***

Dan drags himself out of bed and moves to the window after Phil disappears to the kitchen. The city down below is unmistakably London; it’s the only skyline he’d recognize anywhere. They live here in a lot of timelines, in different flats and different neighborhoods. There’s one where they have a stone house on the outskirts of the city with a massive garden and a swing - he’s spent eternities trying to get back to that one.

He turns to get back into bed, his bare feet catching on a couple pieces of clothing scattered on the floor. One is a soft-looking black hoodie, and when he picks it up he notices that it’s emblazoned with a small white logo. He traces over the raised lines of the design, one he’s never seen before - two capital letter I’s surrounded by a hexagon. Dan pulls it over his head and tugs the cuffs down over his knuckles, crawling back under the covers.

He feels a bit of heat in his left hand, the way he always does after a jump, but shouldn’t it have all dissipated by now? It’s been hours since he got here. He curls his hand in and out of a fist a few times, feeling the energy crackle across his skin.

It’s fine.

***

Phil brings a wooden tray loaded down with plates of jammy toast and two mugs of coffee, one just slightly lighter in color than the other. He hands Dan the darker one and makes himself a home against Dan’s side.

“What’s this?” Dan asks, tapping a finger over his heart where the logo sits.

Phil smiles, taking a large sip from his mug even though the liquid must still be scalding. “It’s our stage show. ‘Interactive Introverts’? That’s like, the I’s, y’know. We’ve only just gotten back from touring it, actually, took it ‘round the whole world.”

“Really?” Dan can’t help the grin that spreads across his face. “That’s incredible.”

“It was. You were brilliant, Dan, wish you could’ve seen yourself. You should try to jump there, we could perform one together.” Phil suggests it so casually, as if all Dan had to do was rewind a movie of their life and press play. Phil’s never been big on the intricacies of it all. He leans back into Dan’s chest some more, blowing gently over the rim of his mug.

“Maybe,” Dan says quietly, turning to press his lips against Phil’s temple. “Tell me some stories about it.”

Phil does, the sun rises high into the sky while they talk about where they got the best pizzas in America, cramming their noodle bodies into one tiny bunk when they couldn’t sleep at night, the time someone drove their car into the tour bus. Freezing their asses off in Australia just to walk along the beach together. Taking their rare days off to act like tourists in a new city and making a list of all the places they want to go back to. Phil sounds so fucking happy and Dan should just leave now, should let him go back to having a version of his boyfriend that isn’t leaking void energy and feeling the universe wrap its hand around his throat more tightly with every passing second.

“Dan? Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” It’s not til Phil is climbing into his lap and smudging his thumb through some wetness on his cheeks that he even realizes that he’s crying. He leans heavily into Phil’s shoulder and digs his fingers into his hips, trying to ground himself again, to calm down. Everything’s wrong. His energy ripples quick and vicious under his skin, speeding up his heartbeat and making pain prickle at his extremities.

“Phil,” he chokes out on a sob.

“Shh, shhhh, you’re okay. You’re okay,” Phil says softly, but Dan can hear that he’s scared. He shakes his head, still hiding in Phil’s shoulder. He’s so far from okay.

Phil sits back a bit and cups a hand around his jaw, turning his face gently to the side. Dan stays still and lets him trace a single finger down the mark that he can feel like a brand, the place where his skin has split open to reveal stardust and fire underneath. It runs from his ear down and over his pulsepoint, the cool pressure of Phil’s finger sealing it over and leaving only a faint white scar.

“You’re sick,” Phil says, slowly. Some force of the universe reaches out a star-clad palm, wraps it around Dan’s heart and squeezes hard.

Dan can’t even bear to speak; he takes a breath but exhales it on a cough. Phil pulls him in again against his body, rubs gentle circles into his back until he can breathe normally. He stays with his face pressed to Phil’s shoulder, listens to the erratic thump-thump, thump-thump of his own heart breaking.

“It’s the convergence,” Phil says into the quiet of their room. His voice still sounds calm, even.

Dan just sighs and pushes back a new wave of tears.

The forums say this: Convergence is the bending of one universe and the distortion of the next. A Jumper may experience the sensation of being torn apart or disintegrated, if this phenomenon were to ever occur. To the best of our knowledge, no convergence events have ever been reliably recorded.

Most Jumpers suspected it to just be a rumor, a wild conspiracy concocted by those who wanted only to create tension and fear. Dan had thought that’s all it was. At the very least, he thought he had time.

***

(A memory: Dan, much younger than they are now. An open laptop, a hundred bookmarked web pages.)

(I’ll bend it right back, Phil. Nothing will take me away from you.)

***

They stay in bed. Phil closes the windows and the blinds and entangles their bodies so thoroughly that Dan could forget where his own ends and Phil’s begins, if he wanted to.

He wants to.

Phil has so many questions, and Dan has no good answers.

Where will you go?

(He doesn’t know. The stars formed him and the stars will take him back. What does it mean to be made of stardust?)

Does it hurt?

(He lies.)

(Phil smooths his hands over the cracks, watches the relief wash over Dan’s face each time.)

Will I ever see you again?

(All the timelines blur together. Maybe he knows this Phil further down the line, maybe they have a garden with a swing and sets of little feet trampling over the ivy.)

Why now?

Why you?

Why me?

(Dan’s crying again. Phil quiets, finally, holds him and kisses him and tells him that he’ll never stop looking up at the stars.)

***

It’s time. Dan knows it likes he knows the tilt of the Earth, like he knows the exact pattern of the freckles on Phil shoulders and every shade of color in his eyes.

“Phil,” he croaks out. His voice is hoarse. He licks his lips and tries again. “Phil.”

“What?”

There’s a burst of the static in his ears, whiting out his mind for a moment. When he can focus again, Phil has sat up a bit and is looking down at him in concern.

“Tell me you love me.”

Phil’s breath hitches and he shakes his head. A tear rolls down his cheek and splashes onto Dan’s jaw. “No. Don’t do that, don’t say goodbye to me. It’s not time yet.”

But Phil doesn’t know anything about time. How could he?

“Please,” Dan says. It hurts to breathe, now. He feels far too warm, everything in his core is being jumbled around and bursting with kinetic energy. Phil’s hands on his skin are a cooling balm, and he leans desperately into them. He presses all his lifeforce against the bend of the universe, in a hopeless attempt to hold straight something that can only be curved. Just a little longer, he says. The stars don’t answer him.

He looks blearily up at Phil. In his memory, the two of them are always so young, so reckless; he says things like I’d find you in any world and Phil believes him without question. For him, there was nothing before Phil and there’ll be nothing after, just an eternal loop of discovery and loss and love.

He inhales and there’s fire in his lungs. He must make some sort of distressed noise because Phil is suddenly even closer, smoothing a hand down over his chest and saying, “It’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Dan forces his mouth into the shape of an L, even though no sound comes out. He has to hear it, one last time.

“I love you,” Phil whispers, so close that Dan only has to tilt his head the slightest bit for them to be kissing.

It’s what he hears echoing around him as the heat intensifies and overtakes his body, as the bend of the universe crushes him and sends him spiraling into oblivion.

Somewhere, another Dan comes home to his Phil sobbing into empty grey sheets, one who clings to him as though if he lets go, he’ll disappear.

(He won’t. It’s not time yet.)

#phanfiction #phanfic #phan #dan and phil #dnp #*rosewrites

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mikamangata · 6 years

Text

If BTS attended Hogwarts (Hyung line)

Just a little something I had inside my head for waaaaay too long. Enjoy!

Here pupils go to Hogwarts from the age 14 to 24 (I have a weird brain but it fits nicer with the ‘story’) and the whole thing is set before the Hogwarts battle

—

Kim Namjoon

Fifth year Ravenclaw (you guessed it)

Both parents are muggles; his mother works as a maths teacher and his father owns a bookshop

His mom says Namjoon got his intelligence from his dad because she still has hers (they’re that kind of quirky family)

Best student at Hogwarts (highest grade point average)

His IQ is probably higher than the Hogwarts towers but he’s still an idiot

Sucks at potions (“Kim Namjoon is that a dead rat in your love potion?!” “I’m not sure but it’s definitely not alive anymore.”)

Best friends with Min Yoongi (“You’re the person I hate the second least in this school” “Uhm thanks Yoongi-hyung.”)

Going out with Kim Seokjin since his first year, they’re the power couple of Hogwarts and bicker like they’ve been married for at least ten years

Confessed to Seokjin by accidentally sending him a howler at dinner: “WILL YOU GO OUT WITH ME PLEASE, I THINK I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU!” (To which Yoongi eloquently commented: “By Merlin’s fucking beard can’t I even eat dinner in peace you egg-face ass looking son of a witch.”)

Clumsiest person you will ever meet; lovingly nicknamed by his friends as 'god of destruction’ and 'Jesus Christ don’t touch that’ (Although he is not sure if the last one is a name; people just say it a lot around him)

Once sneezed in transfiguration class and accidentally transformed Hoseok into a banana (Professor McGonagall immediately turned him back but the poor guy hasn’t been the same after that)

Argues with professor Trelawney about the existence of destiny and fate on a regular basis (“I’m sorry professor, but I just don’t think that these tea leaves look like a house elf riding a unicorn so I’m sure I won’t die within the next three minutes please calm down.”)

Wanted to be part of the Ravenclaw quidditch team but after he set his broom on fire and destroyed a quaffle at the first practice he didn’t make it on the team (thank god, people could have died)

Mostly hangs out in the library or in a certain Hufflepuff’s room (if the weather is nice, you can also find him at the lake)

Currently hides about fifty books under his bed (His room was raided by a bunch of teachers a month ago and he lost over seventy books, he’s still searching for the person who told on him but he’s pretty sure it was Taehyung that little shit)

Is a sucker for cute things; owns a dark purple pygmy puff who he lovingly named 'Monnie’ and he takes that little guy everywhere (that thing is just as clumsy as Namjoon; it once nearly drowned after it fell into the toilet)

His patronus is a spider monkey (they have a weird resemblance if you ask Seokjin)

Kim Seokjin

Seventh year Hufflepuff prefect

Pureblood; both of his parents are well-known members of the Ministry of Magic

Absolutely fascinated by muggles (“You just stick it in like that and then it’ll get all hot inside? Won’t that feel weird Joonie?” “No Hyung, you have to take your hand away before you switch on the toaster or you’ll end up getting burned.”

Most beautiful person at Hogwarts if you ask him (and he’s right)

Drinks tea with professor McGonagall every Thursday afternoon and nobody knows what they talk about; Taehyung believes they hid a few muggles somewhere at school and whenever they 'drink tea’ they’re actually feeding them (“What is wrong with you, Taehyung?”)

Him and Namjoon always get free butter beer whenever they visit Hogsmeade because Madam Rosmerta adores Seokjin (I mean who doesn’t?)

Got nearly suspended once for turning his black robe pink and going to class like that (“I don’t care about the dresscode Minerva I look fabulous!”)

The mom of their little rag-tag group of friends

Calls the maknae line his babies (“Are you cold baby? You can have my jacket if you want, we wouldn’t want our dear Jiminie to get sick!” “Thanks Hyung, I’m okay though.”)

Nice and charming character but if you hurt one of his babies he becomes mama-bear and will “wingardium leviosa your ass to wherever it fucking came from”

Always let’s Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook use the prefects’ bathroom whenever they ask because he can’t say no to the maknaes

Has an adorable sugar glider called 'Odeng’ who’s best friends with Namjoon’s pygmy puff Monnie

Even though he violates the dresscode on a regular basis with different variations of pink, he still scolds the others whenever they don’t put on their uniforms neatly (“Roll your sleeves down Joonie, I won’t go to lunch with you like this.” “I accidentally burned them off in potions class.” “Ugh.”)

Absolutely loves food, nearly as much as he adores Namjoon and the others (“By Merlin if you give me another piece of this pumpkin pie I’ll sacrifice my firstborn to you.” “Jin-hyung please stop, I think you’re scaring Kookie.”)

Does fairly well in all of his classes

Outstanding in herbology and best friends with professor Sprout (“You won’t believe what happened today Ponoma!”)

All the teachers adore him (and most students do too)

Gets tons of Valentine’s Day letters and reads them together with Namjoon (“Isn’t that one cute Joonie?” “Yeah but he spelled beautiful with a "p” and that’s just a no-go for us.“)

His patronus is an armadillo (cute and sweet but extremely protective of the ones he loves)

Min Yoongi

Sixth year Slytherin

Pureblood: his parents are extremely rich and were well-respected members of society

But Yoongi had a rough childhood: the first wizarding war happened and his father is now in Azkaban for being one of Voldemort’s most loyal death eaters

Hates his parents and desperately tries to proof to everyone that he’s not like them (they’re both awful people that despise muggle-born wizards and did horrible things during the war but only his father was convicted because there wasn’t enough evidence against his mother)

Pretends like he doesn’t care about his family but his friends know how much his parents’ doings hurt him

Most students at Hogwarts are intimidated by him even though he’s just a smol bean that likes to act tough

Best friends with Namjoon

Dating Hoseok since second year ("Be careful at the next game, Hoseok-ah.” “Love you too, Hyung” “W-whatever.”)

Hoseok is the only person that’s able to reduce him to a blushing, stuttering mess within seconds (“Do you like that, Hyung?” “No I-” “But I feel the goosebumps on your back.” “Y-your hands a-are c-cold.”)

Has a huge soft spot for Jungkook (who doesn’t, that kid is adorable)

Once tried to poison professor Trelawney for saying Hoseok was going to be eaten alive by a thestral in the next hour (Yoongi had to calm him down, the younger was crying hysterically)

Spent his last three Christmas and summer holidays at Hoseok’s place since his mother “didn’t want him back home if he continued to hang out with these mudbloods”

Got a necklace from Hoseok after two months of dating and in his opinion it’s the only thing in his possession that has value (Yoongi cried once in fourth year because he thought he lost it, after they found it he never took it off again)

Most people think he’s antisocial but he’s almost always around at least one of his six friends

Discovered the room of requirements in his second year after searching for a quiet place to sleep and started using it regularly as a place for all of them to hang out at (and sometimes him and Hoseok spend the night there but that’s another story)

Does surprisingly well in most of his classes (except for herbology but Seokjin always helps him out with that)

Second best student in DADA but only because his parents forced him to learn all kinds of curses and defence spells when he was a child

Is the go-to person for the maknae line when they have troubles with a spell or curse (or a person; Yoongi once nearly cut off a student’s tongue after he called Jimin a mudblood)

Is almost never in the Slytherin common room, said he didn’t like most people there

His patronus is a small, white fox (clever and good at adapting, but easy to hurt once you catch it)

Jung Hoseok

Fifth year Hufflepuff (what else could he be really?)

Halfblood: His mother is a witch who owns a small bakery in Diagon Alley and his muggle-father works as a woodworker near the leaky cauldron

Has five younger sisters and one older one (they’re all muggles though)

Grew up in both worlds so he knows his way around them well

His parents adore Yoongi and treat him like a second son (“Please take good care of him Hoseokie, he looks so thin! Does he even eat enough? Ah that poor sweetheart!” “Yes mom, I’ll take care of him don’t worry.”

Whenever he smiles somewhere the sun rises (yeah that’s a real fact fight me)

Hates Gucci with a passion (“Get that thing away from me Taehyung or I’ll curse your ass like there’s no tomorrow!”)

Has an absolutely catastrophically idiotic owl named Mickey (“Hobi-hyung, what did Mickey just drop into your oatmeal? Is it a package? Did you get something from your parents? What is it?” “…I think it’s a shoe, Kookie, my sisters are probably having a mental breakdown right now.”

Loves all of his friends to bits and is dating Yoongi since his first year after his owl accidentally landed on Yoongi’s head (and Hoseok landed in his heart…sorry)

Shares a room with only Seokjin because of the older’s prefect status; Hoseok enjoyed it until he walked in on Namjoon and Seokjin once (“By Merlin somebody please erase my memory or just kill me.”)

Quidditch captain and the team’s keeper (even though he’s a sweetheart, when it’s about quidditch he doesn’t play)

Does okay in all of his classes, could do better if he concentrated a little less on quidditch but he’s a great captain so that’ll never happen

When they studied boggarts in third year and the McDonald’s clown came out of that creepy closet Hoseok had a lot of explaining to do (“I once nearly suffocated because of a fry when I was like four, I guess I’ll never forget Ronald holding me upside down until I spit it out. That was scary.”)

Once got scared by his own shadow and tried to curse it (“It could’ve been a death eater! You never know!”)

Gets into trouble with the maknae line regularly (especially with Taehyung, that kid is always up to no good)

Sometimes when Yoongi is sad, Hoseok flies them onto one of the many roofs and they watch the stars until it’s morning (and Hoseok would only take a thin blanket with him to make Yoongi cuddle with him)

His patronus is an otter (it 'swims’ through the air like Hoseok does, just without a broom)

—

Author’s note: Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! If there are any grammar or spelling mistakes, please tell me so I can correct them and learn from it! Constructive criticism is always welcomed!^^ Here’s the Maknae Line

#bts #fanfiction #kpop #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #hogwarts au #alternative universe hogwarts #bts fanfiction #yoonseok #namjin #harry potter au without harry potter #bts hogwarts au #bts harry potter au

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