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itsasilentreader · 2 months

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Shadows of the heart

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x reader

Brief mention of Y/N, but no physical descriptions were given. It can be read as a gender-neutral reader. Characters are aged up.

Summary:

Following Sebastian's use of dark magic to kill his uncle, he grapples with guilt. Seeing how much pain and grief he caused to those closest to him, he decides to make sure his loved ones will not be hurt by him again. Once and for all.

Warnings: hurt/comfort but also angst with no happy ending, (mentions of) death, grief. (please let me know if I've missed one!)

Wordcount: 3.1K

A/N: I have changed the timeline from the 5th year to somewhere in their 7th year, even though it is not actually mentioned, it makes it fit better into the timeline I have in my head. And I normally don’t read angst because I don’t want my fragile little heart to break, but I still wrote this??? I also don’t really know how to write angst (yet) but I hope you all enjoy this piece.

It all happened so fast. Flashes of red blasted in front of your eyes. Trying to hold off Sebastian’s uncle Solomon while fighting off any inferius with fire. That is until you see the walls light up with green and you see Solomon fall on the ground. Your mind is not processing what is happening as you watch the scene in front of you fold out. You watch as Solomon’s wand rolls out of his lifeless hand. Ear-deafening silence falls upon you.

“Depulso!”, you hear Anne scream and Sebastian is blasted backwards, knocking the wind out of him. She looked around at all the inferius and lit them on fire with incendio.

Anne shuffles towards her uncle. Tears glistened in her eyes, threatening to fall free. She stands up and faces the grimoire before destroying it. “Bombarda!” Sebastian’s hope of finding a cure for Anne goes up in flames in front of him. “No!”, he screams out, but not able to move from his spot.

Anne clutches her stomach in pain. She already was in terrible pain because of the curse, but nothing could compare to the heartbreak she felt at that moment. In that moment, she lost all of her family. She looks back at Sebastian, pain and grief in her eyes. “You’ve made your choice”, she said.

Sebastian lightly shakes his head. Anne kneels next to her uncle’s body and lets her tears fall free. Sebastian reached out to her, even though she was nowhere near him, but she apparated without sparing him another glance.

You managed to drag Sebastian back to the Undercroft and sat him down on the old couch he once conjured in this space. He hasn’t said a word since Anne apparated. “I fucked up. I-”, Sebastian shut his eyes tightly and inhaled sharply, “I-I killed him.”

“Hey, hey look at me,” you took his face in both hands. His brown eyes found yours, but they felt empty. Tears are forming and threaten to fall down his face. “How could I do this? Anne will never forgive me”, Sebastian whispers to you. His tears fell freely, and you did your best to wipe them all away for him. His hands gripped your wrists tightly.

For once, you didn’t know what to tell him, because what would you say to someone who just used an Unforgivable curse, a killing curse, on their uncle?

Instead of replying to Sebastian, you pulled him closer to you. His sobs broke free and he clutched your cloak in his hands. As if he was afraid you would disappear on him too. You ran your hands through his hair and whispered to him that it would be okay, eventually. But there was a nagging feeling in your gut. Will it truly be okay?

“Anne will never forgive me,” he repeated, seemingly in shock. “What do I do now?”, he whispered through his sobs. You didn’t respond right away, “I don’t know Seb”. You sighed while still holding him in your arms. Knowing you didn’t leave him to be on his own right after he killed his uncle, gave him some form of safety and dare he say love. The charismatic boy you met when you first came to Hogwarts broke down in your arms and showed his vulnerability.

“I think we do need to know what Anne will do with this now. There is a chance she will turn you in.” You said to the brunette boy in your arms. He nodded, “I know, and she is right to do so.” He stayed silent after that and for a while, you two stayed like that. “Maybe Ominis can convince her not to send you to Azkaban. He probably knows of it by now.” You shifted your position a bit so you could properly look at Sebastian.

He looked deep in thought. “He might be my best friend, but he absolutely does not want to be involved in dark magic. I don’t know if I can trust him on our friendship to not send me to Azkaban”. Sebastian looked at you. His eyes were red and the mischievous spark in his brown eyes was gone. In front of you, he seemed like a shell of who he once was.

“I will talk to him. Ask him, convince him, if he can reason with Anne not to turn you in. She already lost her uncle, she doesn’t need to lose her brother too”, you told him. He nodded slightly. “Hopefully she will reason with him”. Silence fell over you again, but you didn’t let go of Sebastian. His tears stopped falling but the stains were still visible on his cheeks. “We will figure something out”. He nodded absently but kept his firm grip on you.

The silence surrounding you made you think about the boy you were holding in your arms. It made you wonder where it went wrong and how he ended up on this path with dark magic. It also made you wonder why you are here with him. Most people would run off in fear of what they might do to them, but here you are, holding and consoling him. Most people also can’t see traces of Ancient Magic, but you can see it.

It was no secret that you and Sebastian were close. There was a connection between the two of you that neither of you addressed, or wanted to address. After all you’ve been through together, it might be that you have created a (massive) soft spot for the freckled boy in your arms. And it is no secret that Sebastian holds you close to his heart. How could he not when you were there, right by his side, to help him with every quest to find a cure for his twin? It was an unspoken connection of love that neither of you dared to address.

An idea popped into your head, “Come with me.” You stood up from the old couch, which was way too small for the two of you. With his hand in yours, you let him out of the Undercroft.

When you eventually walked up the stairs of the astronomy tower, Sebastian figured out you were bringing him to the Room of Requirement.

The enormous door appeared and you led Sebastian inside. Confusion is still visible on his face, “Why are we here?” he asks. You gave him a soft smile while leading him towards the vivarium. “Whenever I feel discouraged, I always visit these little guys.” You let go of his hand for a moment, already missing the warmth and took out your wand.

“Maybe just sitting here with them will help you gather your thoughts,” you sat down and pat the ground next to you. He watches as the little puffskeins skip towards the two of you and eventually sits down next to you. His thigh pressed against yours and your hands so close you can almost touch each other. “It might help us to have a clear mind and come up with a plan together.”

You conjured two brushes, one for you and one for Sebastian, and started to brush the puffskeins closest to you. The two of you sat in silence, a peaceful silence. It was a stark contrast between the silence that surrounded you now and the ear-deafening silence that engulfed you back in the catacomb where Sebastian killed his uncle. You never thought you would sit here with Sebastian, brushing the puffskeins you had saved. But then again, you also never thought Sebastian would kill his uncle.

Sebastian watched you brush the little creatures before speaking up, “Thank you.” Your gaze met his and he looked down at the little creature that managed to climb in his lap. You continued to watch him and wait for him to speak up again. “I don’t deserve you, your kindness,” he shook his head lightly before whispering, “Your love.”

“Sebastian-”, he shook his head again before his eyes found yours again. “I mean it Y/N. Sometimes I wonder why you are still here, by my side.” You frowned at his words. “Why wouldn’t I be?” Sebastian turned away slightly, seemingly avoiding looking at you before speaking his next words.

“I’ve always seen the dark arts as a value when it’s needed. But after that day when we found Salazar Slytherin’s scriptorium, and I-” he pauses and closes his eyes for a second, “When I casted the Cruciatus curse on you, I thought I had lost you.” He said.

You looked away and let his words sink in. “But you were still there for me, by my side, after that. I should have never cast that curse on you. Ever.” His voice cracked at the end of his sentence, and his head dropped. “Sometimes I still hear your screams when I lay in bed at night. The sound of your pain pierces through me, through my heart.” Your heart clenched at the thought of him replaying that scene over and over again in the dark of night, alone.

“You know I wouldn’t let you cast it if I wasn’t sure about it Sebastian.” He shook his head. “You don’t understand Y/N, Ominis was right. You will regret it from the moment you use it. Just like tonight. It haunts me and it always will haunt me.” You shuffled closer to him before you spoke up, “I will always be there for you, you know that. Please just let me be there for you.” You chose your words carefully before softly adding, “Let me love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

“That’s the thing Y/N, I don’t deserve it. At all. I’ve only caused you pain and I will only continue to cause pain, destruction and grief. I don’t know if I could control myself.” You let a sigh escape your lips before grabbing both of his hands in yours. His hands felt rough in contrast to yours.

“Most people would turn their back on you, run away as far as they can. But I will not leave you behind or cast you aside.” His hopeful eyes observed you as you spoke so softly to him. “We have been through so much together. You were the one who helped me navigate this magic I had no idea of.” You sighed and looked down at his hands in yours.

“You would really want to be with me, even after tonight? After seeing me committing something so-, so heinous?”, he whispered to you. “You shouldn’t be with someone like me, I won’t be what you need.” Breathing deeply, he slowly slipped his hands out of your hold. Missing the feeling of his hands in yours instantly. His shoulders slumped and you shook your head at his words.

“I know this is a frightening time, and I’m not going to lie to you about it. This will take a toll on you, on us and our…,” not daring to say the word ‘relationship’ as you didn’t know where you stood on that. You turned your head away and shifted in your spot on the ground. The little puffskeins still cuddled up to you as you picked up your brush again.

“This won’t mean I’ll turn my back on you Sebastian. I want to be there for you, every step of the way. If I wouldn’t do that for you, for us, I wouldn’t be here right now with you.”

After a few beats of silence, you felt Sebastian shift next to you. A nervous smile is painted on his lips. He’s fidgeting with the brush and the little puffskein in his lap, seemingly reflecting on the words you have just spoken.

Then, he put down his brush and let the little creature off his lap. He turned his body towards you and “I don’t deserve you, but I’m mad about you Y/N.” Your heart stammered in your chest by his confession. This was the first time he confessed it was more than just a friendship.

Inching closer to each other, you felt your heart skip a beat when his cologne infiltrated your senses yet again tonight. Eyes flickering from your eyes to your mouth, you felt his hand cradle your cheek and the other one wrap around your waist to pull you closer. Lips brushed over each other while both of you didn’t dare to move.

Your eyes met his and with a whisper of his name, he pulled you in. When your lips touched, it felt like time stopped. Every ounce of his love for you was felt through this kiss and the touch of his lips. Your hands found their way onto his neck and his hair. You’ve finally dared to cross that line and it felt freeing. “If you haven’t noticed yet, I’m mad about you too.” You spoke against his lips before capturing his plump lips again for another kiss.

You felt him smile against your lips and a soft sigh escaped his lips. Breathless you pulled away to rest your forehead against his. You observed every detail on his face through your eyelashes. How his eyes were closed and a soft, small smile was displayed on his soft lips. Every freckle that made his face so unique and pretty. And still, you wondered how someone so beautiful could have such a dark side. How well hidden this side was until you came along and urged him to find a cure for his twin sister.

You stayed like this for a while, savouring each other's company. Every once in a while stealing a soft kiss. His eyes stayed on yours and even though, the mischievous sparkle in his eyes is gone the love he had for you was evident in his chocolate-brown eyes. “Come on, let’s go back.” You gave him one quick kiss and grabbed his hand. As you both stood up, his hand never left yours.

You made sure the beasts in the vivarium were well-fed before walking towards the entrance of the vivarium with Sebastian right beside you. Upon entering the Room of Requirement again, you felt it rumble and another unknown door appeared to your right. “This room astonishes me every time.” Sebastian smiled in amazement.

A soft giggle escaped your lips and Sebastian’s face lit up upon hearing it. You walked in front of him and entered the room that was conjured before you. It shouldn’t surprise you that this room made sure you had a cosy room for just the two of you, away from prying eyes. It felt that you needed this at this moment with Sebastian. A stark contrast of what had happened; you laying in bed with your love and what happened mere hours before.

The clock on the nightstand read 2 AM, but you were still wide awake. Sebastian’s head was resting on your chest, listening to your heartbeat. It gave him peace and comfort. You, however, felt that gnawing feeling in your gut again. How will you ever convince Ominis, one of Sebastian’s dearest friends, to let him walk away free? Is it even possible to reason with Anne or did she make up her mind already?

Mindlessly, you’ve been running your fingers through Sebastian’s hair and you felt him occasionally give you a soft kiss on your chest. You stayed like this until Sebastian spoke up, “Thank you, again.” A soft smile spread on your lips. “Of course, I’ll be there for you. Always.” A sad smile appeared on his face and he felt his eyes water. His eyes fluttered closed to prevent them from falling. “I will never forget it.” His grip on your waist tightened.

His words repeated themselves in your mind and it didn’t help you ease that gnawing gut feeling you felt. Why did those last five words feel like a goodbye? Your mind was wandering and eventually sleep took over both of you as you were intertwined with each other, two hearts beating as one.

As you awoke from your slumber, you had to take a moment before you remembered where you were. Soft rays of sunshine peeked through the window and you stretched your body to get up. You turned around to expect Sebastian’s warm body next to yours, but you were met with an empty, cold space. The sheets were still crumpled as if someone laid there just a few moments before.

Confused you look around in the room, but no sign of the chestnut-haired boy. A slight panic travelled through your body as you got out of bed. You opened the door, hoping to see him there but with no luck. It was as if he was never there.

Frustration filled you, you swallowed hard. What was he up to? Did he turn himself in? Did he go to Anne himself to reason with her? To apologize? Suddenly, you heard footsteps coming from the top vivarium where your Phoenix resided. Hopeful you looked up and expected Sebastian to walk down the stairs but to your disappointment, it was just Deek.

“Mr. Sallow left a note for you. He wanted Deek to give it to you.” Lips pressed together, you nodded and took the note from Deek’s hands. Folding it open, your eyes filled with tears and you felt your heart break.

“Thank you for loving me even though I didn’t deserve it. Please tell Anne I’m sorry.”

It seems your gnawing gut feeling was right, he was saying goodbye to you last night.

Sebastian didn’t show up that whole week and news travelled fast. After all, someone with his charisma is well-known and easily missed when he is not around. Sitting down across from Ominis at breakfast, you watched him for a moment. Ominis clutched his utensils as he silently eavesdropped on some students sitting further down the table. His face wore a pained expression. “I’ve heard his uncle died so suddenly in his sleep. Now he and his sister really have no one left. He probably went back home to his sister.” Ominis let out a scoff before continuing to eat his breakfast.

You and Ominis knew better. Sebastian didn’t return to his home in Feldcroft, he didn’t return to Anne. He knows how much pain he caused her, and both you and Ominis for dabbling in dark magic. He didn’t want to cause more pain and grief to those closest to him, not knowing if he could stay on the right path after feeling the power dark magic can give you.

So he disappeared that night as if he never existed in your life. And every night, you still sat in the Undercroft, hoping one day he would return to you.

Thank you for reading! All the likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow angst #sebastian sallow fanfic #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow fic #hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #ansgt #heartbreak #friends to lovers #angst with a sad ending

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ilynpilled · 1 year

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regarding the fantasy discussion the thing i noticed that i really dislike in a lot of modern series that champions itself as very transgressive and grey and complicated is when it is apparent that the creator/author/writer is actually too scared of characters that are not ‘sympathetic’ and digestible. like you have dark settings and dark things and supposed dark and grey characters but they are that in such a filtered and sanitized way. there is especially a dissonance when they do horrid things in the narrative but the writers are still obsessed with making it ‘cool’ and ‘likeable’ with how they deal with it. there are certain character flaws that are always avoided in protagonists in these type of series because they are flaws that people cannot identify with or do not like to identify with. interesting human traits that are inherently very unlikeable or pathetic etc. i prefer when the creator’s primary aim is to tell a human story rather than just make people be able to easily sympathize with their protagonists. like if you want your story to be truly transgressive and you end up never really realistically grappling with very troubled characters and their actions and their trauma in fear of making people unable to identify with them/like them anymore it kind of falls flat to me. if you market your series in such a way you better give me intrusive thoughts, give me dark impulses, give me the consequences of trauma and unhealthy coping mechanisms, give me irrationality and delusion and selfishness. like give me grey characters that are actually hard to digest and who realistically react to the things that happen to them. that is far more interesting for a story than feeling restricted by the fear of that no longer making them likable to your audience.

#with tv its especiallt complicated bc you are more restricted by a lot of factors #not to mention u cannot really get into a character’s head #but i noticed this in a lot of thrones esque series #books too #even some manga that was inspired by it #and it tends to fail at this to me #thrones also completely fails at this mind u as opposed to asoiaf

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nine-fingered-entity · 1 year

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it's been a bit because college and the horrors and actually yeah thats really all but. great ace attorney brain dump time. currently just met the 3 witnesses in trial day 1 of resolve case 4

i would like to buy ryunosuke a stiff drink (of tea. or sake. either works) this has been a week and a half or so of just. a lot. my man.

will admit it. i like van zieks. he may be the worst, but he's grown on me like some kind of mold. mold man. also i think ryunosuke likes him (begrudgingly) so its fine. (ryunosuke also might be too nice for his own good, but that's a whole other thing)

greg :(

he was going to go to Paris to protect Gina :(

the picture of him, Klint and Barok... smiling... :(

i think Greg is the first AA character death of a major character that does not serve as the opening turning point of a game (rip mia/kazuma (not dead but)) and so I was Stunned. Shook. Bamboozled. like you really get to know him. the epic highs and lows and then. he's Dead.

what was he doing though???? are we going to learn horrible dark secrets in this trial?????????

and why was Van Zieks investigating him...

i have a bad feeling about all this

okay. herlock. um. yikes.

he's been more unhinged lately. more douchey. i trust he has good? reasons for his lying and evasiveness and like. his attitude, but. y u like this bro. can you say one nice thing about ryunosuke without immediately making it about yourself?

truly the fics out there must... need to finish this game. do not ask who i ship.

also we still don't know his connection to the Professor Case. my crack theory is Mycroft. and Mycroft being another victim, but I have literally no evidence but vibes.

red hair herlock was kind of a look tho. go off.

ALSO

okay so the red haired league is one of the actual sherlock stories i kind of remember. in it, the whole job thing was a setup to get this ONE redheaded dude consistently out of his house, i think so they could search it??? okay i dont remember the reasoning, but. fascinated to see how it works out here.

Bepo -> Sandwich. I assume that's a consequence of his perjury? from the last game. got fired and such? idk

also okay these are disjointed but i have two facts

1. reaper thing is statistically real. and bad.

2. van zieks does not know what the hell is going on there (apparently)

fascinating. he quit prosecuting like 5 years ago-was it because of the Reaper? although he never seemed too bummed about the whole thing (till Albert. lol)

but the Reaper for McGilded was Audrey- so are all the rest of them connected? or not?

bleh.

KAZUMA WHAT ARE U DOING

ryunosuke is going thru it

kazummmaaaaaaaaa talk to your friends this vagueness is infuriating just... trust us. pls. man. stop the mixed signals :(

my thought is he wants to defend his father? clear his father's name?

other thought is that either He or Herlock will be the final defendant. i think???

Stronghart is the final villain and i will bet money on that. misguided sense of justice, woot!

im unsure if Genshin actually did it. i will not be surprised if the game makes him innocent in the end, but i honestly kind of think it might be more interesting to not take the easy way out. he did it. and now Kazuma and everyone else has to grapple with that. but idk. i think i trust them to do the path they pick justice

conclusion: dont know Shit. must keep playing

#nellie liveblogs tgaa

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volucerrubidus · 2 years

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What do you like about Inertia?

Promptless II Inbox: Open

“I hope you’re not asking this as a way to be cruel, anon.” Tim arches an eyebrow. “There’s plenty to like about Thad. Would you have asked me this question if it was Steph or Kon? Bart or Bernard? Why do I have to justify only this relationship?” Of course, he knows why. But his patience with this question is growing thin, considering how many variants of it he’s had to answer before.

And perhaps some of those who asked him really did just have his best interests at heart, and perhaps they only wanted to make sure that he knows what he’s getting into.

But Tim is an adult, and he is a smart one, at that. Overly optimistic at times? Certainly; one rarely becomes a hero without even just a dash of optimism. Ready to give villains endless unearned chances? Of course; it goes with the optimism territory.

Always able to think with his own best interests in mind? Absolutely not; he isn’t sure he’s ever met anyone who is.

Despite these things, he doesn’t need to be coddled, or defended, or warned off of Thad, or whatever else others might do out of the apparently common delusion that he cannot make an informed decision of his own free will. He is an adult, and he is smart. And he can take off the rose-tinted glasses as easily as he can put them on.

“I’m going to answer this honestly.” Tim begins. “And I expect the message to stick this time. Because I will not repeat myself again.”

He lifts his chin determinedly. “Thad is trying. He is trying to leave behind the things he did that I hated him for. Lesser-deserving rogues have been given bigger second chances. And maybe those second chances ended in redemption, or maybe they relapsed. But they received those second chances anyway. And third chances. Fourth, fifth, tenth. They will never stop getting the chance to reform themselves and be better.” He squares his shoulders. “But, y’know what? Even if they don’t reform, they are still deserving of respect—and love.”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “How the hero community feels about me because of this relationship is their problem. But I have not and will never betray them just because I started caring about Inertia. The day I betray my fellow heroes is the day that I am well and truly not myself anymore because it would take nothing short of total brainwashing to make me even consider selling out my peers. My teammates. My friends.” He sets his jaw. “I understand if that’s hard. Complicated is never easy. But simple is never realistic, nor is it often attainable. Just my decision to put an ‘R’ on my chest is complicated. Just the calculations of a grapple trajectory are complicated. And I do both of those every night. I’m not afraid of complicated, and I’m not even afraid of messy. I’m not afraid of difficult.” Tim’s stance remains strong, but his eyes do betray a touch of exhaustion.

“Maybe it is complicated and messy, and maybe lots of people want to make it difficult for us. I don’t really care. Thad Thawne challenges me. He keeps me on my toes. And he also makes me feel safe. I know that I have never slept better than when we’re next to each other, and I know that if I sent him coordinates with nothing but an S.O.S., he’d show, just to make sure I’m okay. I know that he’s not perfect, and I know that he’s hurt people I care about. I know that it’s not my place to forgive him for those things, because the people he hurt are the ones who may or may not choose to forgive. I know that this puts me at odds with people I care about. I also know that my relationship with those people is strong enough to survive something like this, as long as they’re willing to put in the same effort that I am, to communicate, and to find a compromise. I know that if they never forgive me, then I’ll find a way to keep going, but I’ll also never give up on our friendship, and that I’ll always keep trying to stay by their sides until the event where they, on no uncertain terms, ask me to stop.

“I know that I want my friends to be happy. I know that I want Thad to be happy. I know that I want to be happy, and that I am allowed to chase what makes that happen.”

His posture finally relaxes, just a touch. Enough for him to even allow a small smile to flit across his face. “I like all of these things about Thad. I like that he’s not perfect. I like that he makes me feel safe. I like that I can be honest with him. I like that he’s willing to learn about me, and then to put what he learns to use, even if it keeps me accountable to my own well-being, or actively impedes certain plans that I make. I like that I want to learn about him, and I like that I want to make him feel safe, and wanted, and known. I like that he won’t let me give up on us, and I like that I don’t want to give up on us, because I like all these things about him. I like his hair, his laugh, the competitive glint in his eyes. I like his hands, his mind, our shared love of the color green. I like that he helps me when I’m stuck on cases, and I like that he doesn’t mind if I start rambling at him for hours on end. I like that I get to hear him ramble for hours on end. I like that my bookshelf is full of books that I bought for him, and I like that we cook together. I like that I can leave things at his place, knowing that I can get them back next time I visit.

“I dunno what else you want to hear from me, anon, and I dunno what else anyone wants to hear from me, but these are the facts, and this is how I’m casting my dice. I want my family and friends to be in my life, and I want them to accept me, and Thad. I understand that that’s a big ask, and that it might make us angry with each other for a while. I understand if it’ll take time to forgive me, and that it may never happen in the first place.

“All I’m saying, at the end of the day, is that I’m willing to put in the effort. I am willing to put in the effort for Thad, and I am willing to put in the effort for my friends. I will find a way to have both, as long as both are willing to…” he swallows, suddenly feeling a lump in his throat that he hadn’t known had been building. “As long as both are willing to put in the effort to have me, too.”

He shoots the anon a long, tired gaze, that’s just a bit shiny. “Happy now?”

#[so sorry omg he went OFF]#[i couldn't read the tone of this question so i apologize if tim is reacting a little harshly!]#[for me the mun i am not in any way upset by this question and i am very thankful for it! it's a great question and it's really fun-#-to think about and to answer!]#[for tim he's just very used to constant questioning of this relationship and it's wearing heavily on him]#[esp after today's dash comms lol]#[so he's a bit tired when it comes to defending this relationship; my apologies for him!]#{answered asks}#{it is very good bad thing we’ve found – timthad}#anon

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militarymiral · 2 years

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A wizards lizard fearless cheat table

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This led to the film’s hilarious American title: The Seven Brothers and Their One Sister Meet Dracula.

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A 61-year-old Peter Cushing returns to the series as heroic Van Helsing to give one more go of it, but because his brittle bones weren’t capable of much more than standing at that point, he’s also backed up by a family of kung-fu brothers with cheap tin-foil weaponry. Instead, the inane story is about Dracula traveling to rural China, where he takes control of a coven of seven Chinese vampires with desiccated, beef jerky faces. In fact, this is actually the final Hammer “Dracula” in their long series, and the only one to (thank god) not star Christopher Lee as the count. Jim VorelĬertainly one of the weirdest co-studio crossovers to come out of the ’70s, Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires is the product of veteran Hong Kong kung fu factory The Shaw Brothers teaming up with Hammer Studios, the makers of classic British ’50s and ’60s Frankenstein and Dracula films. All in all, though, Ninja Terminator is hilariously mangled viewing. At this point, you may be thinking “It will make more sense when I’m actually watching,” but you would be fatally wrong.

#A wizards lizard fearless cheat table movie#

Half of the movie revolves around American actor Richard Harrison seeking a cheap plastic statue that grants super ninja powers, while an unrelated plot features one of screendom’s great badass heroes, “Jaguar Wong,” vs. Perhaps the single most infamous film in the legendarily cheap career of Hong Kong z-film auteur Godfrey Ho, it displays most of his trademarks-primarily footage from multiple, unrelated movies spliced together to create a sort of “movie loaf” of unrelated fight scenes and nonsensical dubbing. And oh my, Ninja Terminator is certainly that. This is a list of the 100 greatest martial arts films of all time, but at the tail end, let us make a small space for those flicks that are enjoyable but unquestionably of extremely low quality. Here are the 100 best martial arts movies of all time: These films are action-packed fighting spectacles, but above all, they’re just plain fun. Although they’re all great films, we wanted this list to focus squarely on our conception of “martial arts cinema,” which has little in common with a great samurai drama by Akira Kurosawa. It’s all here.īut please note: Don’t look for Seven Samurai, Yojimbo or The Sword of Doom here. Men with prosthetic iron hands shooting poison darts. These films contain many wondrous sights: Monks training their bodies to repel bullets. Grave and absurd, all represented in equal measure. It’s an appreciation for the beauty of violence, a reminder of the exceptional abilities derived through training and a celebration of ancient, classical storytelling, in the vein of “Avenge me!” No genre reveres classic themes as this one does, because at their root they speak to us like cinematic comfort food, and they provide excuses for what people have really wanted to see all along: The action.Īnd so, let us celebrate the martial arts genre from its top to its bottom, old and new. Violence is the selling point of these films, but seeing as that violence is achieved through trickery, stunt work and movie magic, it’s not truly the audience’s bloodlust that drives the industry. The audience has never been bigger, because on some level, we love fighting, if only because it reminds us of our most primal roots that have long been shelved and put aside by civilization.Īnd nowhere is appreciation for the beauty of fighting more apparent than in the wide, storied genre of martial arts cinema. Look at the exponential growth in sophistication from the early days of mixed martial arts to how the sport has become in 2015, going from big guys winging punches at one another to a beautiful, scientific system of mixed grappling and striking styles. Others fight professionally, and have only continued to expand the complete picture of what a fighter is. Today, robotic drones are poised to do much of our fighting for us-whether we ultimately end up in a Robot Jox scenario where wars are decided by giant mech battles is a valid (and awesome) question.Īnd yet, despite all of our sophistication and technology, we still fight by hand as well. Technology rapidly came into play and has been seen out to its inevitable conclusion, which removes man from the equation almost entirely. At times, it has been a necessary tool of survival-kill or be killed-and that proved an extremely effective motivation and crucible for enhancing mankind’s fighting prowess. Fighting, whether sanctioned or no-holds-barred, is without a doubt the oldest form of competition that mankind has ever engaged in.

#A wizards lizard fearless cheat table

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randommusingsstuff · 3 years

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Why Ben and Devi are Endgame (Meta)

At the heart of every rom-com, it always comes down to this: what does the protagonist truly want?

Why Devi and Paxton Don’t Work

In the season 2 finale, Devi triumphantly says “So, I guess I'm Paxton Hall-Yoshida’s girlfriend now”. She got what she thought she wanted at the start of her journey, only it’s not what she wants anymore.

Although Devi cares for Paxton, she views him as a status symbol. Paxton, for all his growth, still sees himself as cooler than her. And no, he was not just embarrassed because she cheated on him. Before he knew she was cheating, he invited his friends on their first date and refused to call her his girlfriend. In the finale, it once again takes someone else to point out that he shouldn’t blow her off. As Devi and Paxton walk into the dance, he gives his friends a sheepish look while they judge him. Not only does he still have lingering feelings of embarrassment, his friends’ reactions suggest turbulence ahead for their relationship.

There is also a lack of communication between Paxton and Devi. They have a magical kiss by the window, and makeout sessions afterwards, but they don't actually talk about their relationship in that elapsed time. Devi makes the assumption that they are together and Paxton doesn’t articulate what he wants until it is forced out of him.

What can we conclude from this? Paxton is a great character, but he is not the one for Devi. They have differing interests and goals, a lack of communication and they do not see each other for their true worth.

Can the writers surmount all of these issues to give them an endgame? Yes, but it would require fundamentally changing who Devi and Paxton are.

Why Devi and Ben Work

In episode 1 of season 2, Devi wants to pick Ben but her friends talk her out of it. This is crucial to understanding why they belong together: her gut instinct has already revealed the truth. She had both guys vying for her and she wanted Ben. Just by this one fact alone, we can infer that Devi’s relationship with Ben was more meaningful to her than her pursuit of Paxton in season 1.

When it’s revealed that Devi is two-timing the boys, Paxton is hurt but Ben is devastated. Paxton likes her, but Ben connected with her on a deeper emotional level. Devi follows Paxton out of the party, which is understandable because he is the one walking away. Again, this is cleverly hinting at their communication styles. Paxton wants to avoid the situation and Ben wants to talk about it. From Ben’s perspective, Paxton is the guy she has wanted for so long and he is the second choice.

Throughout the season, Ben never considers the fact that Devi could want him over Paxton, which is equal parts sad and infuriating. Her therapist asks what she wants more than anything and she says Ben. In context, it’s a comical line, but it’s also Devi revealing her truth. Like she does at the beginning of the season, she makes a choice and it’s Ben. She pursues Ben romantically before Paxton even though Paxton is the one more willing to forgive her.

It takes Ben longer to forgive her, and yet he is still there for her when she needs help. The little things he does like give her advice about Aneesa and make her feel better about Paxton’s rejection all show Devi’s ability to be vulnerable with Ben.

As an aside, they had the opportunity to show Devi being vulnerable with Paxon but didn’t take it. In episode 8 of season 2, Paxton sees Devi crying and she reveals that she got into a really bad fight with Eleanor. I was thinking: here it is, here is the moment that Paxton finally helps Devi with her problems... but no. His response is “seems like you’re in a fight with lots of people” and the conversation quickly shifts to her apologizing and helping him yet again. Devi is able to open up to Ben and be supported by him in a way that she can’t with Paxton.

Before I talk about the finale, which is arguably the biggest point in Ben and Devi’s favour, I want to look at the season overall. The entire story arc is Ben and Devi wanting to be together but constantly running into roadblocks in the form of Eleanor/Fabiola, Paxton and Aneesa. It was so alarmingly obvious they belonged together after season 1, that the writers had to find ways to forcibly separate them for the time being. It’s important for Ben and Devi’s relationship that she dates Paxton first. If she had been allowed to go for Ben, they would have had to explore Devi wondering what she missed out on. When Devi and Ben do get their happy ending, it will be because Devi has realized that Paxton is not the person for her.

In the finale of season 2, we get 3 crucial scenes from Devi and Ben. The first is the bathroom scene which reaffirms Devi’s ability to be vulnerable with Ben and his ability to support her (something she doesn’t have with Paxton). The second is their tension-filled scene at the dance where they longingly stare at each other. This directly contrasts the scene in episode 8, where Devi tries to reframe her mindset and stop seeing Ben as someone she is attracted to. Here, it becomes apparent that she is unable to stop thinking about him in a romantic way despite actively trying.

The third scene is basically Eleanor saying “you dummy, she wanted to choose you!”. The writers intentionally reference the pros-cons scene from episode 1, re-affirming that Devi wants Ben. The only reason they are not together is because he is not an option.

Then we get the line “it wasn’t always him”. Many Devi and Paxton fans believe her choice was Ben, but he took too long and now it’s too late. But when has it ever been too late for a main love interest in a rom-com? Mindy Kaling is a rom-com savant, and she knows as well as I do that it’s only ever “too late” for douchey guys who do not acknowledge the self-worth of the heroine. That’s not Ben though, he has always seen Devi for who she is.

The heartbreak on Ben’s face is infinitely worse than Paxton’s voicemail at the end of season 1, although these scenes are meant to parallel each other. Devi and Paxton are two people who like each other but do not work as a long-term relationship. Ben and Devi are two people who work as a long-term relationship but never acknowledge their feelings for each other at the right time. It’s a tragedy just waiting to be rectified in season 3.

Season 3 Predictions

Now that I've given my analysis on why Devi and Ben are meant to be, here are some predictions I have on the Devi-Ben-Paxton love triangle for season 3.

Fabiola/Eleanor will be the ones to help Devi act on her true feelings for Ben. This one is a no-brainer for me. After sabotaging their chance to be happy in the first place, Fabiola and Eleanor will decide that they want their friend to be happy and set things right. It will also parallel Ben mending their friendship in season 1.

Paxton and Devi will have some sweet moments in the first half of the season, but not without their issues. The lack of communication and their respective status (the way they view each other) will cause them to fight. They will break-up mid-season, but the ending will leave hope for reconciliation.

On that note, I do not think they will kill the love triangle. Even though we will likely see Devi confessing her feelings for Ben and saying that she wanted to choose him all along, this is still a TV show. Contentious love triangles = buzz and money.

Ben and Aneesa will break up by mid-season, but probably earlier. Ben will find it hard to be in a relationship with Aneesa as he grapples with his feelings for Devi.

Ben will be a pillar of support to Devi as she navigates how to be a girlfriend. It’s the classic trope of the guy helping the girl win over the man of her dreams, only to realize that the person she wants is right in front of her.

Devi and Ben’s friendship and lingering feelings will culminate in an epic finale confession and kiss. Everything that they were unable to say to each other last season will be spoken aloud in season 3.

Ben and Devi are soulmates, drawn to each other and unable to avoid their feelings. I can’t wait for them to take over my life again next year.

#benvi #ben x devi #ben gross #devi vishwakumar #nhie #nhie season 2 #never have i ever #never have I ever season 2

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heartslobbf · 3 years

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cant believe im still seeing takes about the characters in ghosts being underdeveloped, as if they all haven’t gone from miserable, repressed and selfish people (with the exception of alison and mike, who just didn’t really want to be involved with the ghosts, and alison specifically who had a complicated relationship with the concept of ‘family’) to a loving found family who respect one another immensely, and are all working together to unlearn the traditional and conservative values that previously stifled them. it’s all about trauma recovery and leaving tradition behind you and that is so fucking apparent in every episode of the show. perfect day does not exist for this slander, and neither does like. the entire fucking show lmao. did you people miss alison learning to accept and adore a found family she never thought she wanted?? pat grappling with the grief of losing his family, carol and her affair, his failings to her, and his confrontation with keith? cap letting his militant persona slide, allowing himself to enjoy things, allowing himself to recognise that he’s gay, very almost coming out and being visibly comfortable and happy with his sexuality?? fanny unlearning her homophobia and internalised misogyny, indulging more and more in the things that truly make her happy? kitty trying to understand her sister’s true cruelty and having to face the reality behind her idealised memories, finding love and acceptance now with a new family who don’t belittle and manipulate her? thomas slowly learning that he has talent as a poet and worth as a person regardless of his relationship status, and that romantic connection isn’t the be all and end all? like, mike also has some really amazing moments of development, building his relationships with the ghosts and alison, as well as his blood relatives (hello his character in perfect day and the christmas ep >>>) !! it’s also the little things like how mary is slowly becoming more and more able to talk about her witch trial, and robin is reaching out for more genuine connection with people like julian, rather than just being nihilistic and not valuing anything other than his own amusement. and, even though i loathe him, julian is developing as a person (not politically) as shown by his remorse about his failed relationship with his daughter, and his acceptance of being a ghost. this show is amazingly well written and the arcs are golden, each character has so much to offer and they are developing as people, in a beautiful and exceptionally well paced way

#imagine thinking this show doesn’t develop its characters i have to laugh it’s like. like oh my god #the idiots and in particular mat ben and jim didn’t write such amazing characters arcs for this slander #ALSO HELLO THE CASTS PORTRAYAL OF THESE CHARACTERS?????? outstanding #the subtle changes . god <3 #like . god god god god god god there is SO much development i actually. like do you need to rewatch series 1 i think you do if you think #that there’s been no change since then. you are very silly if you think that im sorry #ok rant over now #bbc ghosts #shut up daisy #ghosts spoilers

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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genderbent wens, like the siblings and the head family?

ao3

“- and in one generation, they were all women, every single one of them!” Lao Nie laughed so hard he was very nearly hiccupping, but Lan Qiren supposed that was understandable on account of the other sect leader having consumed a truly unbearable amount of wine. Some of which was on his behalf – Lao Nie had been in a strange mood during the conference, especially excited, and had boisterously interjected himself into Jin Guangshan’s regular attempts to get Lan Qiren drunk by volunteering to take all his toasts for him – so Lan Qiren felt obligated to stay and keep him from making a nuisance of himself. “So be careful what you wish for, Jin-xiong!”

“Let go of me!” Jin Guangshan yelped, and really, getting squashed like that by Lao Nie tipping over onto him was exactly what he deserved. Only Jiang Fengmian was nice enough to try to help him, and all that accomplished was to get him pulled, laughing, into the drinking as well.

Possibly that had been his goal.

“That seems remarkably unlikely,” Wen Ruohan remarked. He, at least, was sitting properly, and had for once restrained himself during the festivities – he was friends of a sort with Jin Guangshan, which never seemed to go well for anyone else, but Lao Nie’s rowdiness had apparently severed that for the night. He looked sidelong at Lan Qiren. “Don’t you think, Sect Leader Lan?”

Lan Qiren could never figure out if Wen Ruohan meant for that term of address to be an insult or a compliment, and he was tired of trying.

“What is so unlikely?” he asked, having been paying more attention to Lao Nie’s stability than his words.

“An entire generation born as women,” Wen Ruohan said. He was playing with the cup of wine in his hands rather than drinking it. “Statistically possible, but highly improbable, given the size of the Nie sect.”

“Well, I assume he’s accounting for the misaligned,” Lan Qiren said, because Wen Ruohan wasn’t wrong – the Nie sect might be smaller than others, but it was still a Great Sect; it was very far from being small. “That would affect the numbers.”

“Misaligned?” Wen Ruohan echoed.

“A tradition among the Nie,” Lan Qiren explained, because it wasrather unusual. “They believe that the reincarnation cycle occasionally errs, with the soul of a woman ending up in a male body or a man in a woman – or I suppose neither and both, I’m not entirely certain about that one. At any rate, it’s not terribly common, but neither is it especially uncommon, so I suppose it’s possible –”

“Isn’t it a punishment?” Wen Ruohan interrupted.

Lan Qiren blinked at him, not understanding.

Wen Ruohan was looking down at his cup, which he had started to hold rather tightly – his knuckles were white, and it was only his especially good control over his cultivation that was keeping the cup from shattering. “The misalignment,” he clarified. “It’s said that those who commit sins in one life will be condemned in their next: reborn as an ant, or a chicken raised for slaughter. To be reborn into a body that does not fit you would surely seem to be along the same lines.”

“I suppose I see the argument,” Lan Qiren said, relieved that for once Wen Ruohan was in the mood for a theoretical discussion rather than causing trouble just to show that he had the power to do so without consequence. “I believe the Nie would argue in turn that being born as a thinking being capable of expressing oneself is sufficient basis to assume error rather than retribution – we’re all cultivators fighting the dictates of fate, after all. If one can seek immortality against all heavenly restrictions, then seeking to be recognized in the manner of your soul rather than your body would appear to be a much smaller issue.”

He shrugged and took a sip of his tea, rolling it in his mouth first to confirm it hadn’t been spiked with anything alcoholic.

“My assumption entirely,” he added. “I’m not actually that familiar with the Nie sect doctrine on this matter. Lao Nie is not the most academic, and if anything seems more bemused by our lack of understanding on the matter.”

Wen Ruohan was frowning into his cup, but at least he wasn’t gripping it so tightly.

“Fighting the dictates of fate,” he murmured. “Yes, I can see that. If you decide you are something, who dares say that you cannot be that, even the Heavens themselves?”

Such a Wen sect way of thinking, Lan Qiren thought to himself, shaking his head. Arrogant, defiant and proud – always raising their heads up high. Admirable in small doses, irritating in large!

“What would you do?” Wen Ruohan asked him, and Lan Qiren looked at him, surprised. “If there was – something like that, but in your sect? The Lan is the most orthodox of the sects; you do not even permit intermingling between men and women.”

“We don’t – men and women live separately; it’s not the same thing as not permitting intermingling,” Lan Qiren protested, but he supposed he could see the value in the question. “If one of my sect disciples informed me that they believed themselves to be a misalignment, I would – accept it, I suppose. Perhaps after a period of supervision, to ensure that they were serious and understood the consequences of their actions, that they would live and be perceived socially in the manner their soul for the rest of their lives; that would help ensure no one would engage in such a thing lightly or as a prank.”

He thought about it a little more.

“Yes, I think that’s right,” he concluded. “There are many rules that touch on the subject of being true to oneself, and none requiring adherence to the gender of one’s body; therefore, it is more in accordance to the rules to permit it. In such an event, I might also send them to the Unclean Realm for a time to further their understanding of the concept, to allow them time to reflect on the proposed change and to ensure they have access to a place where they can feel safe in exploring –”

“What if it were you yourself? Given your position?”

“Me?” Lan Qiren blinked. “I’ve always been comfortable being a man, so it isn’t an issue. But if it was, I would imagine that the same would apply to me as to anyone else in my sect. After all, we have precedent of a woman taking the role of Sect Leader, so that isn’t a consideration.”

“I suppose you do,” Wen Ruohan said. He seemed thoughtful. “What do you think the other sects would think of it?”

“Well, I can hardly say. Of the Great Sects? The Jiang sect would probably approve of it; their sect motto is ‘attempt the impossible’, and their emphasis has always been on freedom and finding your own way – I can’t imagine them objecting in a way that wouldn’t make them come across as complete hypocrites. The Nie would of course accept it. The Jin…”

The Jin sect, under Jin Guangshan, would reject it utterly. Perhaps it might be different under a different sect leader, but Jin Guangshan was even more wedded to the idea of people being in what he considered their ‘proper’ place than most. He hated the newly rich, the self-made upstart, even the poor young men who fought their way up from nothing – in his view, immortality was best reached by nothing ever changing. It was, perhaps, an understandable viewpoint from a man who felt as though he already had everything, but still rather disgusting given how despite all of that Jin Guangshan still grappled and sought after even more power and wealth than he already had – as if he were the only one allowed to rise, and everyone else had to stay where they were so he could more easily step on them on his way up.

“Oh, the Jin. Leave Jin Guangshan to me,” Wen Ruohan said with that dangerous smile of his, the one that promised blood on the ground.

Lan Qiren nodded agreeably, then frowned. Since when had they been discussing how to convince Jin Guangshan to be more open to an admittedly idiosyncratic Nie sect custom?

He was about to ask, but then Lao Nie started singing – with Jiang Fengmian providing the harmony, insofar as ‘harmony’ could be used to describe something that sounded not unlike a duet for elephants in heat or possibly someone using a brick to bludgeon people mid-opera – and they all got distracted in the unified effort of trying to get them to stop.

Lan Qiren then forgot about the entire conversation for approximately two months, and abruptly recalled it when Wen Ruohan issued an announcement that the Wen sect now permitted female sect leaders, that, furthermore, shewas the first one, and, finally, that if anyone objected on any basis whatsoever they were welcome to fight her personally.

Which –

Well, in all, Lan Qiren wished his fellow sect leader the best and started resigning himself to having to suffer from even more of Lao Nie’s flirting at the next discussion conference. That man had never yet met a man or woman who could kill him that he wouldn’t try to sleep with, and he generally preferred women…

“It’s nice to have the company of another girl,” Jiang Yanli said with a smile.

Wen Xu snorted. “I agree, even if I wish it were under different circumstances.”

Jiang Yanli managed to maintain her expression of peace and tranquility for exactly four breaths before she burst out into giggles, an incredibly infectious sound that finally made Wen Xu start laughing as well.

“It’s mean,” Jiang Yanli said, only laughing harder. “I should – I’m glad they’re happy! Really!”

“We can be glad that they’re happy and also think that our parents are insane,” Wen Xu said. “I can’t believe – your parents are already married! To each other!”

“They weren’t very happy, though,” Jiang Yanli said. “I honestly think Sect Leader Wen has been very good for them. Even if I don’t want to think too hard about it.”

Wen Xu nodded. They were both twelve, which was exactly the age at which you tried very hard not to think things like I’m pretty sure my mom’s railing your dad while your mom provides commentary with his face in her lap right this very instant and yet you did think it because the adults were very not subtle sometimes and then at that point there was nothing to do but laugh.

“I heard that lots of people thought she was going to get together with Sect Leader Nie at first,” Jiang Yanli said. “You know, because they flirt so much?”

“My mom says that Sect Leader Nie flirts with anyone who can kill him,” Wen Xu said, and still marveled a little at being able to say things or think things like mom. Before, she’d only ever been allowed to refer to his father through the most formal terms, with any attempt to use a more intimate sobriquet being viciously punished – she’d often thought that her father would rather she called him Sect Leader Wen instead, and maybe she’d been right.

Her mother was a lot more easy-going about that sort of thing now, though. Wen Xu still wasn’t sure whether it was because she preferred ‘a-niang’ over ‘a-die’ or if it was just that, having blown up the entire cultivation world through her gender choices, her mother felt a lot freer in ignoring the rest of the expectations that had burdened her, too.

“So he’s not serious about her?”

“I mean, maybe he is, I don’t know,” Wen Xu said. “But apparently the whole thing with my mom deciding to announce that she was a woman happened right around the time he was getting back together with his second wife so I guess he was taken?”

“Wait, he got back together with – wasn’t she dead?”

“Apparently not? I really don’t know what happens in the Unclean Realm.”

“Probably for the best,” Jiang Yanli said. “I mean – I don’t – uh, that is –”

“If you’re talking about the fact that my mom still wants to take over the entire cultivation world and declare herself an immortal Empress, trust me, I know.”

“Oh, good,” Jiang Yanli said. “I wasn’t sure how to bring it up.”

Wen Xu shrugged. She mostly just hoped that her mom’s current relationship with the other sect leaders was such that she didn’t actually murder them all in her inevitable effort to take over – it had always been something of a concern, and greater now that she actually knew Jiang Yanli was pretty cool.

“I also thought…” Jiang Yanli hesitated. “You yourself…?”

“Oh, no, I’m different. My birth mother made me pretend to be a boy,” Wen Xu said. “So that I could be the heir and she could keep her place as my father’s main wife, though of course in the end it didn’t really work out that well for her…I think A-Chao’s like mom, though. She wants to be a princess.”

“So she’s like your mom in the – ambitious sense?”

Wen Xu snickered. “Yes, that too. Actually, it’s a little funny. The whole thing started because my mom overheard Lao Nie talking about how a whole generation of Nie sect got cursed to be girls one time, and now I think mysect’s current generation is all girls.”

“Oh! Are they really?”

“Well, not really, but almost?” Wen Xu said. “There’s really just my mom, A-Chao, and me in the main branch, though we have some cousins that got sort of pulled into the main branch after their parents died – A-Qing and A-Ning. They were both born as girls, but recently A-Qing’s been saying that he thinks he might be happier as a man…it’s interesting. He’s not unhappybeing a woman the way I’m pretty sure my mom hated being a man, but he really likesbeing a man, and according to the Nie sect that’s the same thing, just a different expression of it? I don’t know.”

“How old are they?” Jiang Yanli asked.

“A-Qing’s about our age, and A-Ning is your brothers’ ages. You can meet them the next time there’s a conference in Qishan…”

“Can I bring Jiaojiao?” Wen Chao asked, and quailed under Wen Qing’s glare.

Wen Ning was just happy to remain underfoot and out of attention range. Her brother had a wicked way with needles when he wanted, and she wanted no part in any of that.

“Are you serious right now?” Wen Qing demanded. “You want to take your whore with you when we run away from home?”

“I’m not leaving Jiaojiao behind!” Wen Chao insisted. “And she’s not a whore! She doesn’t sleep with anyone but me.”

Hasn’t doesn’t mean wouldn’t, Wen Ning thought, then promptly felt bad for thinking it. It was a very catty thought and she was ashamed of it, even if Wang Lingjiao did strike her as rather…mercenary.

“Also I don’t understand why we have to run away anyway,” Wen Chao said, pouting. “So what if Mom started a war? We’re going to win, and then I’ll be a princess.”

“You’re an idiot,” Wen Qing said. “We’re not going to win.”

“But we control half the cultivation world!”

“Yes, and maybe if your mom was as ruthless as she used to be, she would’ve done the things necessary to win the war,” Wen Qing said. “Like take out Lao Nie early on, maybe. Now that the Nie sect’s got both him andNie Mingjue, any of our cultivators that go to the Unclean Realm are going to be slaughtered.”

Wen Chao winced, acknowledging the point.

“And ever since Lao Nie and Lan Qiren started their thing, it’s not like the Nie sect won’t also go defend the Lan sect, right?”

“…right.”

“And of course there’s the Jiang sect, which we probably couldraze to the ground if we really wanted to. But we’re not going to, and you know why?”

“Because Mom is fucking their sect leaders.”

“Because your mom is fucking their sect leaders,” Wen Qing agreed. “And that is why we declared war first on the Jin sect, because no one likes them.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“The problem is that the Jin sect makes no sense at all as a target! If we take over the entire stretch of territory between Lanling and Qishan, Qinghe gets completely cut off from Gusu and Yunmeng and there’s no way they’re going to let that happen, which means that they’re going to declare war on us. And that is why we are running away from home, because we do not want to be here when the Nie sect shows up.”

Wen Ning’s brother was awesome and everyone should listen to him.

“Maybe your mom will rethink her actions once she’s seen that we’ve run away,” Wen Ning told Wen Chao in a low voice, since she was still scowling. “And I think it’s fine if you bring Jiaojiao. She’s your girlfriend, right?”

Wen Chao frowned. “I mean…she’s someone I’m sleeping with. For now. That’s all – she’s just a maid.”

Wen Ning would normally refrain from commenting, but… “If she’s just a maid, then why do you care about her potentially dying when the Nie sect invades?”

Wen Chao’s face did something. “I – maybe I just want to have her around to keep sleeping with her!”

Wen Qing looked on the verge of saying something, but Wen Ning stepped on her foot.

“Maybe you should think about it,” she said. “I don’t think we can let a servant to come with us – same reason we can’t take Wen Zhuilu, since he’d just report the whole thing to your mom – but if she was your girlfriend and you trusted her…”

She trailed off and shrugged.

Wen Chao’s face was doing weird colors.

“A-Ning, stop trying to teach A-Chao to have mature emotional reactions, it’s a hopeless case,” Wen Qing said. “Keep packing instead. If I was smart, I’d let A-Chao stay here with her Jiaojiao and her dreams of being a princess.”

“No!” Wen Chao exclaimed, then flushed red.

“No? Then pack.”

“How about we just assume girl until otherwise proven?” Wen Xu suggested, patting the baby’s back to try to keep calm. Whether the person to be calmed was the baby or Wen Xu herself was unknown. “She doesn’t need to have gender imposed so early.”

“Deciding that she’s a girl is imposing a gender,” Wen Chao said. Her head was in Wang Lingjiao’s lap, and she was pouting. “I can’t believe we have to take care of a baby.”

“She’s family,” Wen Qing said.

“Her parents aren’t!”

“Mom’s rules are that anyone who has the Wen surname and blood who doesn’t have parents gets adopted into the main family.”

“Do Sect Leader Wen’s rules even matter any more?” Wen Ning asked, wringing her hands. “With her being under house arrest…”

“It’s temporary. Once she vows not to wage offensive war without approval of the other Great Sect leaders, she’ll be released and things will go back to normal. Mostly. Possibly with slightly less war?”

“Yes, but in the meantime, why do we have to be in charge?”

“Uh, because you’re the heirs?”

“I’m not the heir,” Wen Chao sniffed. “A-Xu is.”

“This is so stupid,” Wen Xu said. “I can’t believe our mother’s military campaign and inevitable tragic defeat was derailed by the giant man-eating tortoise A-Chao found.”

“Anyone could’ve stumbled over that cave!”

“We weren’t even supposed to be heading in that direction! If you hadn’t stolen the map and insisted on being the navigator –”

“It all turned out for the best,” Wen Qing interrupted. “No blood feuds – or at least, not any we can’t afford to pay off – and that awful Jin Guangshan isn’t around anymore, which the other sect leaders are pretending to mind but really don’t. Mom will be back in charge of the sect soon enough, and with luck will forget all about trying to take over the world and will instead go back to fucking her two lovers that swooped in and saved her life instead defeating her because she’s incredibly touched by that even if she’s pretending she’s not. It’s like a scene out of a bad play.”

“Can we get back to the bit where we got a baby?” Wen Xu said. “I don’t want to deal with a baby.”

“I already explained –”

“I’ll take A-Yuan,” Wen Ning volunteered. “She seems sweet.”

“Girls usually are.”

“We are not saying everyone is a girl until otherwise determined!”

“Why not?” Wen Xu wanted to know. “Worked out pretty good so far.”

“I – that is – I mean…” Wen Qing floundered, then scowled. “Okay, listen. Not even the Nie sect does that, and I refuse for the Wen sect to be weirder than the Nie. All right?”

Everyone considered that, and agreed.

They might be weird – but they weren’t that weird.

Right?

#mdzs #wen ruohan #lan qiren #wen xu #jiang yanli #wen chao #wen qing #wen ning #feminine mystique

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

Do You Believe In Life After Love? PT. 1

Arkham Knight!Jason Todd x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 2.4 Warnings: Angst, Mentions of Violence and Death

Author's Note: I have edited this story so it's nicer. Love me for this, please because I fought the cringe for y'all. Enjoy! -Thorne

Gotham looked bleak in the wake of the militia’s arrival. Even the thugs that were rioting in the street seemed to avoid the armored tanks and patrols as they passed, and GCPD had withdrawn most of their officers to stay at the precinct. He’d never claim he couldn’t do it on his own. He had to keep going. He had to save Gotham. He had to—

“You know, it wouldn’t kill you to ask for help once in a while.” He didn’t have to look over his shoulder to know who was speaking. She walked up beside him, leaning on the ledge he was perched on.

He didn’t look at her when he spoke, his eyes still trained on the city before him. “You should still be resting. Your ribs aren’t fully healed yet.”

She chuckled and turned, looking out at the spotlights shining. “They’re healed enough.” She side-eyed him. “Besides, this is becoming a lot more than you can handle.”

He shook his head. “It’s fine. I can handle thi—” He looked down when he felt a hand curl around his wrist, then he looked back up, seeing the solemn stare in her gaze.

“Dad. You almost died at the ACE plant,” she interjected with a shake of her head. “We’ve got this ‘Arkham Knight’ teaming up with Scarecrow, and you’ve got Tim locked in the theater synthesizing a cure.” She squeezed his wrist lightly.

“Ican handle the smaller things, while you handle the militia and Scarecrow.”

He stared at his daughter for a moment, wanting to argue, but he knew it was pointless. Finally, he nodded, pulling away and pushing a few buttons on his wrist screen. “I need someone to help Dick with Penguin, and I need to handle the Man-Bat flying around.”

She nodded as she glanced at her screen, taking in the information he’d sent. “Do you know where it came from?”

“The DNA matches that of Doctor Kirk Langstrom,” he said. “He owns a lab on Bleake Island. Here’s the coordinates.”

Humming, she slid a wave-marker into the cowl’s visor to give her direction before stepping up on the ledge. “I’ll go to the lab, then help out Dick.” He stared at her as she turned to face him, her feet nearing the edge. “Be careful, dad…I don’t want to lose you.” She didn’t give him time to respond, falling backwards over the ledge.

A few seconds later, she was gliding through the sky; a faint smile came to his lips as he watched her, then he turned, heading in the direction of the other island.

***

When she finally found the lab, she was alarmed to see what had happened. Her eyes focused on the screen, replaying the last moments of the experiment, then she put a finger to her ear. “Dad? Can you hear me?”

A few moments later, his voice came over the line. “What happened at the lab?”

She grimaced as she looked at the body of Francine Langstrom. “Apparently Langstrom was trying to find a cure to his deafness by mixing in vampire bat DNA with his. Something went horribly wrong, and he mutated into the giant bat thingy flying around Gotham.” She paused, her voice mournful. “His wife’s dead.”

There was a slight pause from her father then he murmured, “Can you get to a computer to synthesize a cure?”

She glanced around, trying to find a working computer amongst the shattered screens. When she found one, she moved to it, typing away at it.

After a few moments, she pulled the cure out and put it into the injector she carried. “Alright. I’ve got the cure. Do you know where he is?”

“He’s on Bleake now. Find him in the skies.”

She nodded, moving to the door. “Will do.”

***

When she arrived back in the city, she climbed up the clocktower and waited. Once she saw him darting across the sky in a hulking mass of gray flesh and black talons, she acted, kicking off the ledge to glide across the sky until she was above him; she dove, tackling him to the ground and injecting him, but he fought her, viciously slicing at her with his claws until she rolled away. He screeched at her and flew off.

She grunted as she clambered to her feet, dusting off the dirt they’d rolled in and a voice came over the comm. “Did you find him?”

A huff escaped her, and she explained, “I did…but he wrestled with me and took off the second I injected him.” She looked down at the injector, still holding the remaining cure. “We’re gonna have to go another round.”

“Watch the skies then. In the meantime, go find Dick. He’s somewhere on Miagani.”

She took a moment to catch her breath before pulling out her grapple and aiming it towards the roof of an adjacent building. “Alright. Will do.”

The crinkle of her father’s communicator faded out and she pulled the trigger, letting her body go weightless as she shot up towards the ledge. Holstering the grapple gun, she climbed over the ledge and paused, glancing down at her screen as she stood on the roof. A few moments had passed, and she looked at the city, seeing the chaos that had enveloped it within the few hours that had gone by. Riots littered the boulevards and the militia had begun putting mines in the roads as they started barricading the avenues and main streets. Something akin to hopelessness rose in her chest, but she shoved it down, reminding herself that with her, Dick, Tim, and her dad, they could save Gotham. It was just going to take some more time.

“Are you thinking about how Batman let the city go to hell?”

She couldn’t fight the gasp that escaped her as she spun around, taking in the image of the Arkham Knight before her. His stance was nonthreatening, in fact it was almost curious, but she stood on her guard anyway, her voice and eyes cold.

“There’s only two people to blame for this city going to hell. Scarecrow…” She pointed at him, her voice frosty. “And you.” He gave her no reaction, other than taking a step towards her, heavy metaled boot making a thump against the concrete roof.

Reaching down, she pulled the Ka-Bar from her thigh and warned, “I’d be careful how close you come, pal. I’m one person you don’t wanna tango with.”

He stopped and stared at her. “Look around you, Batgirl. This is what Gotham City truly is. Chaotic and beyond saving.”

She tipped her head back, her tone becoming challenging. “Is that what you’ve been conditioned to believe? Or did Scarecrow just feed you something to change your mind.”

That seemed to irritate him because he snapped harshly, “You have no idea what I’ve been conditioned to believe.”

“I know you’ve got a petty grudge against Batman, and you believe that inciting chaos amongst people is the best way to deal with it.”

His anger seemed to cool as his voice turned to ice, and she almost shivered at how the temperature seemed to chill around them a few degrees. “My grudge with Batman is more than petty.” He pointed at her, the holographs on his mask shifting with every word. “He deserves to die.”

She flipped the knife into the air and caught it, raising it defensively as she reached out with the other out and beckoned him. “You want Batman?” she challenged. “Then you come through me.”

The Arkham Knight didn’t move until she jerked forward, stabbing out with the knife. He dodged her easily enough, sliding beside her and she twisted, following him with a well-rounded kick aimed for his torso. Instead of evading, he grabbed her foot and yanked her. Hard. Her breath caught in her throat as she was hauled forward and cursing inwardly, she brought the knife down, hoping to catch him as she fell. His gauntleted hand shot out and caught hers, and when she reached out with the other, he caught it too. Not wasting any time, he kicked her feet out from beneath her and dropped them to the ground, putting all his weight onto her hips to stop her from moving as he slammed her hands beside her head against the rooftop.

Her eyes widened in shock at how quickly everything had happened. No one had ever been able to take her down that fast, and the reality that she might meet her end caught up with her. She began to squirm, trying to rise up enough to catch him with a shoulder but with her wrists in his grip it wasn’t likely, and with all his weight on her legs, she couldn’t kick out or try to flip him off.

“Stop moving,” he suddenly commanded, but it didn’t sound as harsh as his earlier words.

She glared at him and spat, “You wanna kill me, go ahead. But he’s still gonna take you down.”

There was a pause, then he shifted her hands until he held them both in one hand, and he reached towards her face. She reacted like anyone would subdued by an enemy, emitting a warning in her throat as she tried to avoid the oncoming touch. When his hand came into contact with her cheek, she flinched at the chill of the titanium, but his touch was…kind and gentle.

“I’m not going to kill you, (Y/N),” he promised softly. “The last thing I’d ever want to do is hurt you.”

She stilled at the mention of her name, shock etching across her features. His fingers brushed her cheek once more, this time a loving caress, his thumb brushing over her lips.

“How…how do you know my name?” (Y/N) questioned and his hand halted, then he reached up and pressed a button below his jaw.

She watched the mask rise and when his face came into view, she felt her heart stop and she blinked, breathing, “…Jason?”

At the mention of his name and the recognition, he let go of her hands and reached down, removing the gloves from his hands. He reached back down to cup her cheeks, thumbs stroking over her cheekbones then to her eyebrows, like he was trying to remember how her skin felt underneath his calloused hands.

She could see the long-withheld emotions fighting inside him as choked, “God, I’ve wanted to see you for so long.” His hands felt warm against her face, and she reached up to touch him, but stopped as she saw the “J” burned onto his face. He must’ve realized she was staring at it, because he pulled one of his hands away and covered it, muttering, “The Joker…he did it.”

Whatever reaction he was expecting, anger, fury, disgust, it wasn’t the one she gave him, as she let out a sob and jerked forward, wrapping her arms around his neck. His entire body went rigid, then slowly, his arms wound around her waist, pulling her to him until there was no space between them, and even then, he tried to pull her closer, squeezing with all his strength. She began to shake in his arms, and he quietly shushed her.

After a few moments, she pulled back and took off her cowl, staring at him with red-rimmed eyes; she swallowed thickly before murmuring, “…We thought you were dead, Jason.”

His expression turned dark as he muttered, “Joker kept me locked in the asylum all that time.”

(Y/N) had no idea what to say. What could she? She figured she could apologize for not looking in the asylum. Or that she failed him. Instead, she said nothing and took his face in her hands, pressing her forehead to his. He shut his eyes and a shuddering breath left him as he gently grasped her forearms, trying to ground himself. Some time had passed before he pulled away and helped her to her feet. (Y/N) stared into the eyes of her lover and readied herself for what she was about to say.

She took a deep breath and bent over, picking up the knife to put it back in its sheath. “I…I can’t even begin to imagine what happened to you, Jason,” she said as she gazed at him. “And I’m sorry it did…I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to find you.”

Grasping the cowl, she pulled it back on then clenched her jaw and said, “You can go this time…but if I see you again…I will stop you.”

His eyes widened in shock for a split second, then they narrowed, and he tipped his head up, questioning, “So, this is how it’s going to be?”

She nodded despite the grief welling in her chest. “This is how it has to be.” (Y/N) explained as she turned away from him. “You’re trying to kill my dad and destroy Gotham…I can’t let you do that.”

“You don’t care that he left me to die?”

She spun back around, her voice wrought with disbelief and resentment of the accusation. “That’s not what happened, and you know it!” she condemned. “You turned you comm and tracker off then went off on your own! We searched everywhere for you! None of us let you die!” She reached out and curled her fingers in the straps at his side. “We saw you die Jason! I watched my father fall into the deepest pit of depression I’ve ever witnessed!”

She let him go, her hands falling limply to her sides. “Don’t you dare say that he didn’t care that you died…it haunts him.” (Y/N)’s eyes met his and she lamented, “It haunts me.” He said nothing, and she shook her head, turning back around. “I don’t know what you expected from me. To help you destroy Gotham? To kill my father and everything he stands for?”

She paused, then admitted, “I love you, Jason. More than anything…but you’re dead wrong if you think I’d be on your side with this.”

The sound of mechanized armor echoed in her ears and his sarcastic laugh turned robotic as he ridiculed, “Guess there is life after love, huh?”

(Y/N) gave him no response, and a moment later, she was standing alone on the rooftop. A feeling of overwhelming numbness seeping out from her heart to her limbs as her lungs began to tighten.

“Yes…I guess there is.”

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drwcn · 3 years

Text

《Without Envy》- concubine/sleeper agent!wwx & prince!lwj

[story board 1] [story board 2] [story board 3] [story board 4]

long post: story board 5 →

Lan Wangji, as it turned, was a true gentleman. This was problematic for Wei Wuxian, who was tasked with getting close to him, because Hanguang-wang’s upstanding morals being rather unimpeachable rendered Wei Wuxian’s initial seduction efforts entirely unsuccessful.

Lan Wangji straight up ignored him. Whenever he came to visit Jiang Yanli it was always to speak with her and not Wei Wuxian. It was like Wei Wuxian, or A-Xian as he was known, did not exist to the prince. Whenever Wei Wuxian tried to “get close” to him, aka, making himself available to serve tea, meals and such, Lan Wangji would always dismiss him, or tell him to wait outside so Lan Wangji and Jiang Yanli could dine together alone. Needless to say, Wei Wuxian was getting increasingly frustrated. Entirely unbeknownst to Wei Wuxian however was the fact that Lan Wangji had noticed him from the start and was just trying to stop himself from doing something inappropriate. Truth is, Lan Wangji first saw Wei Wuxian at Jiang-fu during one of Lan Wangji’s visits to finalize the marriage between himself and Jiang Yanli.

It was the dogs’ barking that got Lan Wangji’s attention first. That, and a young man’s agitated cursing.

“Fuck - ow! Princess that was not nice! I’m going to turn you into barbeque if you don’t cut this shi - Ow! Jasmine, give it here!”

Lan Wangji’s personal guards Guo Ai and Sun Ting made to investigate the source of the ruckus and to tell off whoever dared to be so impertinent and disrespectful in a marquis’s manor, but Lan Wangji stopped them with a subtle gesture.

Slowly, he approached the round archway looking into the garden and saw by the shrubs a handsome young man cradling a fuzzy tiny thing while trying his darnedest to fend off two relentless hounds. “Shoo, shoo, go bother your master!”

But the dogs wanted to play. Their bushy tails wagged happily.

Eventually, the young man tired of the over enthusiastic canines, picked up a stick off the ground, and tossed it far over the garden walls. The dogs took off running, and he and the little creature he protected were allowed a moment’s peace.

“Little tutu, it’s okay, the mean dogs are gone now. Don’t be afraid.”

It was only then that Lan Wangji saw that the furry round thing was a small bunny, probably driven from its burrow by the aforementioned hounds that belonged to Jiang-xiao-gongzi. He watched, slightly transfixed, as the young man lifted the bunny and gently booped its nose against his own, his comely face scrunching up adorably in the process.

So when Wei Wuxian arrived at the prince’s estate with Jiang Yanli, Lan Wangji cursed his luck. He had no intentions of becoming attracted or attached to anyone in his harem. His marriages were political games. Everything he did in his harem was calculated. The last thing he needed was for the Jins to think they could sink their claws into him. So he kept company with all his concubines equally, just to maintain the balance. Lan Wangji did not want Jin Ziyan to be the only man in his harem, which was why when Qin Su offered him Mo Xuanyu, he did not refuse. It was fortunate that Mo Xuanyu himself seemed eager to serve too, so Lan Wangji did not have to grapple with ethics there. He was doing this for his country; everyone knew this. As long as he kept to his duties and divided his attentions equally, there would be trouble in his harem. Except...Lan Wangji wanted to see ‘A-Xian’ again. The more he wanted, the more he made himself keep his distance. He recognized the power dynamic that existed between this servant and himself, and that if he were to ask, A-xian was not really in a position to refuse. Besides, Jiang Yanli made no indications that she wanted her A-Xian to serve Lan Wangji. In fact, she seemed quite protective of him, always looking out for him wherever she could. She practically treated him like a little brother than a servant. As such, Lan Wangji was happy with the way things were. He could live with never knowing A-Xian more intimately. In fact, he did not want A-Xian to be ordered to serve him, or find out that A-Xian was just like every other man and woman in his harem, there to curry favours with him. It would be a shame if he turned out to be just another flower in the garden, another player in this game they played.

Of course Wei Wuxian read this whole situation as: that little bastard Lan Wangji doesn’t like me. Xue Yang was charged with being Wei Wuxian’s correspondence between Gusu and Qishan but ended up just being the guy Wei Wuxian complained to. —“Is this Hanguang-wang truly a paragon of virtues???” Wei Wuxian raged. “Aren’t princes supposed to be lechers? Wen Chao certainly is a sleeze. Wen Xu could be too for all we know. I’m young, fit, attractive and available. I know he likes men so why not me? He sleeps with Mo Xuanyu all the time apparently …Is Mo Xuanyu more attractive than me?!” Xue Yang: >_> God I miss murders.

Wei Wuxian’s “opportunity” came when Jiang Yanli fell mysteriously ill about three months after she married Lan Wangji. When the physicians were left scratching their heads, Wei Wuxian quickly took the matter into his own hands. He needed Jiang Yanli alive; if she died before he made an impression on Lan Wangji, he could be sent away back to Jiang-fu and threaten his entire operation. What’s more, Jiang Yanli had been extremely kind to him in the last two years since he arrived at Gusu. She truly was the perfect lady; he would hate to see her suffer. Through some crafty investigations, Wei Wuxian discovered that the cause of Jiang Yanli’s illness was a slow poison being laced into her food by Jin Ziyan’s orders. The motive of his actions were obvious enough; ever since Jiang Yanli married in, Lan Wangji seemed to be showing her extra favour, favours which he never distributed unevenly prior to her entering his household. Jin Ziyan did not want Jiang Yanli as a competition. She was a marquess’s dichu daughter, much higher in rank than either Qin Su or Luo Qingyang, and therefore posed serious threat to becoming Lan Wangji’s legal spouse. In a way, she was Jin Ziyan’s biggest competitor, and he couldn’t have that. What Jin Ziyan didn’t know was that Lan Wangji visited Jiang Yanli so much because he wanted to catch glimpses of Wei Wuxian, even though he dismissed Wei Wuxian from the room every time he saw him (the man was clearly a masochist). Wei Wuxian managed to sniff out the poison before it could cause lasting damages, but the effect of it was going on for long enough that Jiang Yanli still had an early term miscarriage before she even knew she was pregnant. Wei Wuxian, incensed by Jiang Yanli’s suffering, was ready to expose Jin Ziyan, but was ordered not to by Wen Zhuliu. ‘We still need Jin Ziyan’ was his reasoning. Still, Wei Wuxian managed to tip off the investigators such that they detected and put an end to the poisoning, but the culprit was ultimately never caught. As this played out, Wei Wuxian realized that now was his chance to get close to Lan Wangji. With Jiang Yanli recuperating...surely the Jiang family would want someone else of their clan to serve Lan Wangji in her place, someone who could keep Lan Wangji’s attention but would not replace Jiang Yanli’s place in the harem. It did not take much to lead Yu Ziyuan to the same conclusion. To ensure that he would have ample time with Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian secretly slipped a special sedative into Jiang Yanli’s food and drink to mimic the symptoms of a slow recovery. The sedative was one of Qishan’s secret formulations and could not be detected by Gusu’s finest doctors. But Jiang Yanli, bless her heart, did not want the boy who she’d come to see as a little brother to be used like an object. "A-niang, I don't want to force A-Xian to do things he doesn't want to. I will get better, dianxia will not abandon me." — Yu Ziyuan tsked, "Silly girl, serving Lan Wangji in your stead is his entire purpose for coming with you. Every family must plan for something like this; someone to hold onto Lan Wangji's interest while you're indisposed. Men are fickle, child. You need time to recover and someone will need to remind Hanguang-wang that you still matter when you’re ready again. We cannot let him forget you. Think of what this would mean for our clan." Much to Yu Ziyuan’s delight, Lan Wangji came to check on Jiang Yanli while she was visiting, and Madam Yu had no qualms making hints that it would be the Jiang family’s honour if Hanguang-wang allowed ‘A-Xian’ to serve him while Yanli recovered. Wei Wuxian did not protest. Why would he? This was his orchestration after all, but when he dared raise his gaze from the floor to look at Lan Wangji, he detected a hint of something in Lan Wangji’s face…something like disappointment. Wei Wuxian relayed this to Xue Yang and the other evil gremlin sucked on a candied apricot and said with a roll of his eyes： —“You’re so dense, shixiong, tsk. Men like Lan Wangji could have any man or woman he wants. If you go along with Madam Yu’s orders, you’ll just to be like everyone else, another ambitious servant trying to socially advance. He’ll fuck you and forget you within a blink of an eye.” — Wei Wuxian sipped his liquor and grimaced. “Fine, what do you suggest I do then? — Xue Yang smirked, “Oh, haven’t you heard? Men like roses with thorns. When you’re brought to him tonight, don’t play along. Don’t humour him. Refuse him.” — Wei Wuxian： >_> Is this how you got those Daoist priests in bed with you? — Xue Yang smirked shamelessly, “Worked, innit?”

Listen, Lan Wangji was fully prepared to have some emotionless sex with Wei Wuxian okay? Boy was prepared to just go through the motions. He was disappointed to know that A-Xian turned out to be no better than any other servant in his harem: eager to climb his bed.

Being a concubine was stupid work, Wei Wuxian realized belatedly. After dinner, Jiang Yanli bid him goodbye with worried eyes as the momos and gugus of Hanguang-fu dragged him away to be bathed and prepped for the prince’s enjoyment later that night. (gugu, momo - older female servants)

Wei Wuxian was not a dirty person - sure, he worked hard, but he bathed regularly - they did not have to scrub that roughly. As they practically scrapped off a layer of skin, the momos rattled on and on about how he should “conduct” himself in the presence of dianxia and how he should position himself to best please him.

What the actual fuck. Wei Wuxian resisted the urge to pull a face. Did the ladies get the same banal talk? How fucking boring was the sex around here? Wei Wuxian wasn’t born yesterday alright? He knew how to fuck. ...Well fine, he didn’t, but he and Xue Yang had sucked each other off once or twice, so that should count for something.

Once the attendants were satisfied with the state of him - hair brushed, skin cleaned and lotioned, callouses removed - they rolled him in a large full-body sized blanket, placed him in a sedan and ordered the servants to carry him to Lan Wangji’s chamber.

Wei Wuxian tried not to make an exasperated grimace when the servants literally picked him up like a log and deposited him on the prince’s large bed.

Fucking...seriously?

He did not remember this bullshit when zhangjie married in...but then again Jiang Yanli did marry in. There was a ceremony and everything. Lan Wangji was very respectful that night, bowing to her before lifting her veil as a gentleman ought to. So what the fuck is this barbaric treatment? Just as he pondered on these questions, the tulle canopy parted, and Lan Wangji’s handsome face and broad chest came into view. Undressed to his inner most layer of robes and his ink black hair let loose, he looked very much like a man ready to ravish his new concubine, but somehow, Wei Wuxian could not detect a trace of interest on that jade-like face.

Despite knowing this was all an act, just a means to an end, Wei Wuxian shivered when Lan Wangji reached for the edge of the blanket that encased him.

He pulled the blankets closer, shrinking deeper inside.

“Don’t be afraid,” said Lan Wangji. “I won’t hurt you.”

Time to act, Wei Wuxian. Give it your best shot.

“I’m not afraid.” “Then why do you hide?” Wei Wuxian waited a meaningful second before meeting Lan Wangji’s gaze dead on and said, “Because I don’t want to.” Nonplussed, Lan Wangji raised an elegant eye brow in return. “Oh? Is that so? Or are those just words? Perhaps you've confused what kind of place a harem is. If you do not want to, why are you here?”

Is my act not convincing enough or is this stupid asshole so confident in his attractiveness that he thinks everyone must automatically want to fuck him? Slightly ticked off now, Wei Wuxian sat up, still holding the blanket to his chest and retorted hotly, “I am not confused, dianxia. Perhaps you are unable to comprehend the idea that someone as lowly as a servant would refuse when given the opportunity to ascend in rank, but nevertheless, that doesn’t change my position. I don't want to. I am here because Lianfang-jun appointed me; there was hardly any room in that decision for me to argue. If you are determined to have me, I will not resist, because I understand my place. But I am a person, not a thing or a broodmare for you breed. I have some dignity left, and at the very least, before you...before you hold me down and fuck me, I want you to know."

Wei Wuxian half wondered if his act had gone a little overboard. The expletives maybe were just a tad too dramatic, but then again... ...seeing how Lan Wangji's entire stance shifted, maybe not.

Lan Wangji withdrew his hand. He had mistaken Wei Wuxian’s initial unwillingness as coquettish posturing, but the heat in those dark, bright eyes could not be faked.

“Those words could get you into a lot of trouble when spoken to the wrong person. Have the momos not taught you the rules?”

Wei Wuxian squared his shoulders. “They have, but I place trust in Hanguang-wang’s reputation, that you are a true gentleman and would not force me against my will.” Then, just as he practiced, Wei Wuxian lowered his eyes. “I am a servant, your servant, and I know it is my duty to serve you in any way you command me, but I -...please find other use of me, dianxia, but not this.”

He startled a little when a warm hand found purchase under his chin and lifted up his face. Lan Wangji inspected him wordlessly with those cold, sharp eyes, searching for lies, for pretense. Wei Wuxian held his breath, praying he won’t be found out, but eventually, when the prince and his calculation deemed him good enough, he let go.

“Very well.”

Lan Wangji fetched a pair of clean inner robes and trousers from the wardrobe and handed them to Wei Wuxian. “Get dressed and move over.” Without waiting for Wei Wuxian to respond, he sat himself down on the edge of the bed and began to remove his socks and shoes.

Wei Wuxian moved quickly, shrugging on the robes and tied it in place before shoving the trousers under the covers to try and pulling them up his legs. “You’re...you’re not leaving?”

Lan Wangji glared at him over his shoulder. “This is my room, my bed. Why should I leave?”

Right. Right.

“But you’re not...sending me away?”

Lan Wangji frowned as though questioning his intelligence. “Would you like me to send you away? I should think that would reflect badly on you and your mistress.” That did give Wei Wuxian pause. “Uh, well –” “Your declining to be my bedfellow does not impede my fulfilling my side of the arrangement. You will leave in the morning, and the others will think that I found you pleasing enough to keep you the whole night. That should give Jiang-fu’ren and the Yunmeng Jiang clan sufficient face." “I could sleep on the floor.”

“Do you want to sleep on the floor?” Lan Wangji swung his legs onto the bed and arranged the blankets to his liking. “The doors are never locked. Servants and sentinels must be allowed in to check on me during the night for security purposes. It would not bode well if they found you lying on the floor.”

Right, yeah that would defeat the whole purpose.

“Oh.”

Lan Wangji lay down and crossed his hands over his chest. “Lie down, sleep. I have morning court assembly, and I’m tired. If you’re going to stay, don’t be a disturbance.”

Feeling like he’d lost all semblance of control in this situation, Wei Wuxian awkwardly laid himself down beside Lan Wangji. The bed was big enough for the two of them that there was space in between even when both of them lay flat on their backs.

Lan Wangji lifted up just a second to blow out the bedside candle, and then there was total darkness.

Wasn’t I suppose to seduce him? What the fuck is this? Okay...maybe I have no idea how to seduce him...maybe I have no idea how to do anything that’s not straight up strangling him in his sleep.

Wei Wuxian could feel his heart thudding in his chest, panic coiling tighter and tighter. He almost wished Lan Wangji had ignored his protest and took him, because then it’d be straight forward. As it were, he had no idea how to proceed now.

Just as Wei Wuxian was being slowly consumed by his maelstrom of thoughts, Lan Wangi suddenly spoke into the dark.

"I am not a heartless bastard, you should know."

Huh?

"I never implied that."

“You did.” Lan Wangji gave a little shake of his head. “I do not want this anymore than the others in the harem. You said I treat my women like broodmares, but perhaps you have not considered that Gusu treats me like a stallion." Wei Wuxian was momentarily speechless. “Your mistress is very kind and gentle. I am sorry that the child in her belly was lost; I know she very much wanted to be a mother. I see that you are very protective of her, so you should know, I would never hurt her. Even if she were to never recover her strength, I would not let harm come to her.” Those words, softly spoken, tugged at Wei Wuxian’s conscience, if not his heartstrings. “Dianxia -” “Sleep. Good night.”

The next morning Wei Wuxian woke up to knocking on the door. The sun was already high in the sky and the bed was empty of Lan Wangji’s presence. A group of maids entered carrying a basin of water, towels and clean clothes. Wei Wuxian, dazed, asked, "Where's danxia?" One of the maid giggled. "Dianxia left at dawn to attend morning assembly at the palace. You must not know; he wakes up very early. He said not to wake you, and to let you sleep. He said," The others giggled with her. “He said that you've had a long night."

To the great surprise of everyone, Lan Wangji did not elevate Jiang Yanli’s servant A-Xian to concubine status after the ‘long night’ they had together. Instead he ordered A-Xian to be transferred to his court to be his close-quarter attendant, to serve him in his every day tasks. Wei Wuxian did not exactly understand why Lan Wangji would make this particularly decision, but he did not complain. After all this was exactly what he wanted, to be close to Lan Wangji and earn his trust. Lan Wangji, on the other hand, was content to have Wei Wuxian close by, secure in the knowledge ‘A-Xian’ did not wish to spread his legs to socially advance. Perhaps, if he dared to hope, he could finally have someone to speak to in this lonely manor full of people who only saw the crown hanging above his head.

Xue Yang was of the opinion that this was all going to end badly. He was right.

[next]

#cql #the untamed #wangxian #lan wangji #wei wuxian #cql ficlet #without envy #corie fics

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aquelondungeonmaster · 3 years

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okay okay okay okay okay

Being the number one dimensional cartographer for the Redstoner Cinematic Universe Cinematic Universe and some of the other things that have simply so much redstoner vibes is truly a challenge, because most of the people who could be in the Redstoner Cinematic Universe Cinematic Universe have no idea that they could be in the Redstoner Cinematic Universe Cinematic Universe, and therefore are unable to act on that information.

But I know.

And the thing is, Redstoner was so long ago, right, and it’s literal lost media, the original videos are inaccessible, and for all I know some of the people who were in Redstoner might not recognize something similar to Redstoner if it bit them on the nose. And like, obviously, I’m not expecting to receive a Redstoner 7 or whatever from any corner of this tangled map, but in the situation where someone who starred in Redstoner was facing down something with intense Redstoner vibes, I’d be getting my hopes up for some small reference.

And I don’t want to be insufferable, but nothing might come of this unless I be insufferable.

Empires SMP. The sun may well set over fWhip’s kingdom (countdom?) of Grimland, but with all those spikes of redstone ore, you’d be forgiven for thinking it didn’t. With all that redstone, apparently, whispering in his ear to create more explosive potions... things could easily go horribly wrong at any moment, it seems.

Enter the newest member of the SMP, the final member of the SMP. Shubble’s only just joined, and seems to be planning to live off the land, to build her empire into the sides of hills. Hobbit homes. Unassuming, earthy tones. Not really an indicator that she’d know what I’m talking about or reference it any, and this would be a completely irrelevant arrival to the redstone ore shenanigans...

...but Shubble was in Redstoner, the horror series where the contraptions are impractical and the sun never sets. She made her appearance near the end of Redstoner II: M.O.D.S., helping Ross (Redstoner’s protagonist) show off a quicksand mod. Sometimes, when she spoke, something blue slid its own messages in for a fraction of a second, something trying to fight back against the something red that had a grip on Ross. Her probably-unwitting efforts did not work, and she was tricked into a (fleshy(?), quicksand-like) death trap without a grappling hook.

Redstoner, even its most recent iterations, was a long time ago, and there are no pleasant fates in its world. Shubble as seen in Empires thus far has no particular association with quicksand or the colour blue. But when they said the Red Sun never sets, turns out they meant it, and I’ll be getting my hopes up for even a mention of a reference whether I like it or not.

#empires smp #redstoner #shubble #failwhip #mcyt #yeah i'm pulling out the Sorting Tags At The Start Of The Tags; perceive me.#long post #analysises #i WILL be drawing art for this and i WILL probably post that art here and on twitter #and i AM fuelled by hubris right now #crossovers!#< but is it really though?#this post is mostly just so everyone else can be thinking about this information and know this information #a-post-lon #ok. you're welcome. Dimensional Cartographer OUT!#fwhip

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cherrynojutsu · 3 years

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Title: Like Gold

Summary: Sasuke grapples with love and intimacy regarding his developing relationship with Sakura after returning to the village from his journey of redemption. Kind of a character study on Sasuke handling an intimate relationship after dealing with PTSD and survivor’s guilt in solitude for so long. Blank period, canon-compliant, Sasuke-centric, lots of fluff and pining, slowly becomes a smut fest with feelings.

Disclaimer: I did not write Naruto. This is a fan-made piece solely created for entertainment purposes.

Rating: M (eventual nsfw-ness)

AO3 Link - FF.net Link - includes beginning/ending author's notes

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Chapter 7/?: Catalysts

Sasuke doesn’t indulge in baser needs often, despite the frustrating paradox that is the male endocrine system’s apparent determination to make him do so. He finds it feels… empty, after. Like there’s supposed to be something more, but instead there’s just whatever is situated above his head to stare at while his breathing levels out, an interminable abyss of silence and stars, or tree foliage, or apartment ceiling. Impulses and feelings of a sexual nature are probably normal for anyone his age, but in the past, satiating desires like this has made him feel guilty, given the context.

When he's not plagued by nightmares rife with gore and blood and bodies, or the occasional aching memory, his subconscious takes the opportunity to bombard him with dreams of a suggestive nature, having deduced somehow that it’s the most effective method to get him to… tend to things.

This variety of dream customarily involves pale pink hair, multifaceted eyes, and soft fingertips, branded into the part of his brain that controls his most base instincts with a hot iron.

He notes begrudgingly as he gazes at plain plaster above him, brows furrowed, that ostensibly, it works well enough, if the intricate mess of thoughts and feelings in his head and on his abdomen are anything to go by.

Sasuke would never admit it to anyone, but Sakura has headlined exclusively in nearly every sexually-charged dream he's ever had, and resultingly the majority of his sentient thoughts while indulging outside of dreaming, too. When they were Genin, it was innocent enough; he had reasoned that, being the main girl his age he associated with, it made sense his inadvertent dreams, beyond the scope of his control, involved her. He'd shaken it off in those early days as the by-product of the developing hormonal cocktail that is the pubescent masculine mind, and ignored the part of himself that kind of had a crush on her even then. Or definitively more than a crush, after the Chunin Exams and the hospital and jealousy.

He had tried convincing himself of the same thing at fourteen, once he'd left the village and had attempted to sever all bonds. It didn’t work, though; by that point he knew better, knew what the feeling he was trying to squash actually was.

Which meant it didn’t work at fifteen, either.

Nor sixteen, and definitely not seventeen, eighteen, or nineteen.

All of that has been wholly indecent on its own in the past, causing him to feel shameful every time it happens, and even more ashamed if it’s a rare day where he’s weak enough to act on it, a day where he wakes up mere seconds from an edge rather than minutes.

But this morning, he woke up on the tail end of all of that with the addition of freckles , of all things to fixate on, and he just knows he's never going to forget about them now, that they’re branded into his grey matter in perpetuity. Freckles just above the interior of a shoulder, eight of them, a small scattering he had been pressing his lips to, listening to a softly whispered Sasuke-kun, reaching around her with his only arm, so he could make her say his name like that again.

It is far from the first time he’s touched himself to the thought of Sakura, but it is the first time he’s indulged since they’ve been… together.

Except this time felt… different.

Less like an unrealistic reverie he should try to abstain from and more like an eventuality. Less guilt, too, or rather, almost none, because he’s in a relationship with her now, and he’s pretty sure he’s supposed to have feelings like this regarding her. Not that he is anywhere near ready to do anything about them, because he absolutely is not; he’s not certain he even comprehends that level of vulnerability, to touch another person and allow yourself to be touched by them, though he badly wants to, someday.

No, Sasuke doesn’t indulge in baser needs often… but he did this morning, when he woke up teetering just on the precipice, fantasizing about tiny tan flecks seen and unseen, and he’s trying to work through how he feels about it, this guilt surrounding the fact of not feeling guilty like he ordinarily does, as well as the lingering curiosity he’s struggling to force down regarding how many other freckles Sakura has.

Even moreso, he yearns for soft words that he has often thought may be sentimental to the point of being utterly quixotic. It's why he doesn’t typically submit to this kind of inclination in the first place; it’s meaningless on one’s own, he secretly thinks, though he has nothing to compare it to. No sense of connection or true lasting fulfillment like he imagines there must be, for people to talk about it the way they do; just pleasure that's there for a blinding scattered second and gone the next, with nothing tenderhearted or meaningful in the moments following as his vision refocuses and he picks up the pieces.

He stares at his ceiling, an aporia of longing and complicated compulsions ricocheting in the hallways of his head, or perhaps from his skull to the roof and back again, an absurd push and pull that leaves him with more questions than answers.

Has she ever thought about him the way he thinks about her?

What would it sound like, Sasuke-kun, when she’s like that?

Is it okay to feel like this, now? To think about her in this regard?

Sasuke is accustomed to not sleeping well - it comes with the territory of his lived experience, an unfortunate fact of life he’s somewhat learned to deal with - but during the mission to Sand, he'd slept fairly restfully, though in short increments of five or six hours. That's apparently the tipping point of how long he gets to go without being sojourned by some variety of vision in the night.

He eventually makes his way to the shower, using torrid water and soap to double cleanse what’s left of his mess. That's a big contributor to his consternation, too; it's so embarrassingly messy that it’s impossible to imagine ever doing anything like it with her . He flips the dial to cold after he’s bathed for the better portion of five minutes, because serpens caput is still burned into his retinas, and he’s hoping against hope to freeze it out of himself like he has tried to do with shame in the past.

It doesn’t work; it just induces shivering, algidity overwhelming the senses but doing nothing to distract the mind.

He shoves his face into his book after, desperate for the distraction a proverbial fiction featuring an old fisherman can provide and thinking once again that he needs to acquire a lamp. Anything to get the thought of pressing his lips to her freckles out of his head, because he’s pretty sure if he keeps thinking about it, he’ll have to take care of things for the second time today, and then he really won’t know how to feel.

So when a banging erupts on his apartment door shortly following eight, followed by a shout of, “TEME! I'm here, let’s go!”, all he can think is finally, because he knows it will at least get his mind off of this strange lack of guilt and a curiosity he’s not ready to unpack yet. The book helped, but he thinks he needs the challenge a fight against Naruto can provide to truly leave behind this level of prurience. He doesn’t know how he’s going to look her in the eye when they meet at three as they planned, otherwise.

Sasuke shoves on his sandals and grabs his chokuto before opening the door. “So you finally showed. Thought you'd sleep all morning.”

Naruto’s eyes narrow, indignant and already launching into a retort. Good. Maybe he’ll get some iota of order knocked back into him, enough to put compelling constellations away for the time being.

XXX

Sasuke feels monumentally better by noon. It’s another draw, an absolute whirlwind of swinging limbs that made it impossible to focus on anything else. He didn’t take joy in it necessarily, and he suspects Naruto bruised his ulna bone to the extent it almost cracked, but it helps, the diversion of pain; the tinge he feels when he moves it is a welcome hindrance. They’d stuck mainly to taijutsu and clashing weaponry, so physically, he’s pretty exhausted.

They’re resting in the dirt, making a valiant attempt at rehydrating. It’s moderately hot for this time of year, barely on the cusp of mid April, but it’s seeming like the Konoha heat will be returning with the same vengeance it always does. A small trickle of sweat sinks its way down his back.

Sasuke feels nearly normal again. Or normal to the extent he generally feels, anyways. He gets the urge to do something good - to tip the scale, so to speak.

"...The cutting board works. Thank you." It’s not what he’s most thankful for right now, but it’s a nice thing to say as substitution.

His friend grins at him. "Welcome! It was all me, by the way. Hinata-chan didn't even help me pick it out!" Naruto scratches his head, downing more water. He’s moving rather slowly, as if he is sore, too; Sasuke thinks perhaps he came close to beating him this round.

They stare upwards for a while, soaking in the sun as clouds roll lazily by. Birds fly overhead, finches and song sparrows twittering their selections, collecting materials to build more nests for this new season. It’s another effective distraction, one that fills him with a sense of nostalgia, replacing his earlier sense of compunction regarding the mystifying concept of physical love and the whims that accompany it.

Naruto speaks up after a bit. "Ne, teme, wanna go to the market with me? Hinata-chan asked me to get some groceries and some stuff for the backyard."

Sasuke glances at his teammate and contemplates. It can't hurt. He did want to pick up potatoes to make actual curry with, and he could get some other things, too. He'll still have time to shower before he meets Sakura at the hospital.

"...Sure."

Naruto takes longer to rise than he does, shuffling carefully as if he is in pain, but once he’s standing, he seems fine enough, stupid grin slapped on his face at Sasuke’s agreement to go with. They set off in the general direction of his building so he can drop off his weapon first. He gets dirty looks sometimes, walking around, though it’s not nearly as bad as when he first returned and it doesn’t bother him on the same level that it used to. When he’s with Naruto or Sakura, he gets less of them, but he can't imagine a sword strapped to his back in the market will do much to help his reputation.

Naruto doesn't allow the easy silence to last. "Y'know, teme, it's really good to have you back in the village. It feels like everything's finally coming together. We'll have to do some fun stuff this summer. And also in the fall!” Gears are turning behind cerulean eyes, and he adds, ”...Hmm, and the winter, too!"

"...Yeah." He stares at the mountain, thinking about what cherry blossom trees look like in summer and fall and winter. It will be nice to see the one across the street change colors throughout the seasons. Or the one on the hill, where they're going later today. He has seen their like numbering in the thousands, scattered everywhere on his journey - he’s highly cognizant of them, for obvious reasons - but he hasn’t been granted the privilege of watching the same one through the whole of a year’s growth cycle in a long time.

"Sakura-chan seems really cheery lately, too. Can't imagine why." The second sentence is said flippantly, without any real conviction, as if Naruto knows exactly why.

Sasuke glances at his teammate, neck warming and heart skipping a little at the mention of her. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of hearing that Sakura is happy from secondhand sources; it makes him feel like he’s doing something right for once. Maybe not all his impulses are complicated in nature enough to require dissection, as he was accustomed to doing when he was away; spending time with her is one, and he's been indulging it often.

He briefly entertains the idea of outright telling Naruto that they're together, then, but the dobe is moving on before he comes up with the words. "Well, anyways. Wanna spar Monday morning, if neither of us get a mission by then?”

That’s… specific. Maybe he doesn’t need to say anything to him, after all; he’s sure it’s no coincidence that Naruto is asking about the exact time period Sakura is busy training with Ino, probably as aware of her schedule as Kakashi is. Their old sensei might have told him, he supposes, or maybe Sakura said something; Sasuke wonders when he last saw her.

“...Sure. If you think you can handle it.”

The response he gets is a slug on the left shoulder, but it’s not overly hard. Sasuke narrows his eyes in response more out of habit than any real malice. He sees as Naruto’s hand retreats and slips out of a fist that words are written on his palm. He didn’t notice it throughout the morning due to their hands constantly being locked around weapons or thrown in punches, and he resists the urge to roll his eyes; it's likely a grocery list.

Naruto leans against the brick downstairs while Sasuke drops off his sword, and then they head to the main market area as the dobe chatters. It’s fairly busy, it being a Saturday, but it’s not intolerably so; most people are busy eating around now.

Sasuke is completely unsurprised when Naruto beelines straight for the noodles; naturally he would be out of them. He takes the opportunity to procure a blend of wild rice. Thus far he only has white and brown in his own pantry, and he’s been trying to eat it often. He's always liked rice, but it’s high in calories, too, an easy way to try putting on weight. Another variety to choose from would be beneficial.

He trails after his friend to the baking supplies next, where Naruto examines containers of flour and sugar. Sasuke concludes Hinata must bake, because he’s confident any cookie prepared by the dobe could not possibly be edible. While his teammate is occupied, Sasuke turns the corner and procures a half dozen eggs, a large bag of potatoes, and two different varieties of tomatoes. The extra five pounds of weight held in the crook of his arm doesn’t do wonders for his bruised bone situation, but it’s not wholly unbearable; he’s fairly used to dealing with pain.

“Hinata-chan said to go to the gardening stall on the north end,” Naruto says once they’ve paid and exited the building, so they begin a course in that general direction. “She said they have the best perennial bulbs; that means they come back every year!”

Sasuke twitches, surprised he can even pronounce the word perennial if he’s lived this long without knowing what one is.

“Anyways, she wants to plant some, uh…” His voice trails off, and he peeks at his hand, where Sasuke now sees the names of flowers written in feminine writing that has to be Hinata’s.

Of course. Like he could spell the words, let alone read his own sloppy handwriting.

“Iris, phlox, and uh… echo-na-na-chee-ah.”

“Echinachea,” Sasuke corrects dully, giving him a withering look.

“Sure! That! She wants to plant those in the backyard, kind of line the house with them, since the front is looking pretty nice now. She said to get bulbs; they root better. They might bloom this year, but if not, they’ll for sure come in next year!”

“...And she entrusted you with this?” Sasuke asks, raising an eyebrow.

Naruto just laughs, utterly unphased. “Duh, that’s what the list is for, teme. Hinata-chan is super smart like that. Putting it on my hand makes sure I don’t lose it!”

They meander to the northern edge of the market, past the congregation of other stalls selling seeds and garden starters. It's getting towards the end of planting season for Fire Country, but there is still plenty to choose from here, allegorical gates of green swinging open in salutation. They pass some tomato plant starters, already starting to climb their cages, but Sasuke decides against it; his hand is full presently, and the bone still kind of hurts, and none of them are red heirloom tomatoes anyways, being smaller variations like plum or cherry or grape. He likes all tomatoes, honestly, but if he was going to grow one, he’d just want the one of a favorite to worry about. Repotting a starter would also require a planter, which he doesn’t have; another thing to carry.

The stall Naruto leads them to is probably the nicest one there, judiciously laid out and everything labeled neatly with precise calligraphy. The few tables the vendor has are overflowing with perennial starters, but Naruto goes to the three vertical displays of seeds and bulbs, so tall they are at eye level with both of them. They’re filled to the brim with diminutive packages, printed with large pictures of the flowers they contain the beginnings of, along with genus names and common names in smaller text. The blond examines them, surveying his hand, then the display, then back to his hand again in scrutiny.

Sasuke watches, resisting the urge to sigh and waiting for the inevitable.

“Hmm… I guess this would be a lot easier if I knew what any of these looked like. Gonna have to read them all.”

Sasuke rolls his eyes and steps forward to point to the section of iris bulbs to start with. He gives him a minute to work out which colors to pick, observing the throng of people entering and exiting around them, young and old and in-between.

Phlox are next; he directs his teammate to the appropriate section, where there are quite a few options of hues. Naruto examines them as if he is making a grand decision transformative in nature, mumbling to himself.

“Hmm… She likes blue and purple. Maybe I should…”

His own gaze wanders as he tunes Naruto out, taking in pictures of begonias and caladium on plastic shiny in the sunlight, before his vision locks on the far display.

He wanders over to it as if his body is moving of its own accord.

There are several varieties of lilies, he learns as he scans the packaging, oriental, trumpet, and what is apparently called nerine. White nerine lilies had been the variety his mother grew, lining their yard with curved porcelain petals, clusters emanating from many single stems.

He sets his groceries at his feet to free up his hand, picking up one of the packages to read the instructions on the back. His arm aches as he does so, but he couldn’t care less.

Nerine lily bulbs require good drainage. If there are still puddles in the prospective planting area 5-6 hours after rain, locate another site, or amend the soil with organic material to raise levels 2-3 inches. Nerine lilies also require soil that is somewhat gritty, though it also must be organically rich. Adding compost may increase nutrient content.

In spring, choose a location in full sun. If you are in a hotter region, site them where they will receive morning sun and afternoon shade, and plant the bulbs with an inch of the slender top above the soil surface. The top of the bulb is the area that looks like the stem of an onion. Install bulbs 8 to 11 inches apart for a massed look.

Nerine bulbs develop foliage that gather sun rays and strengthen the plants during the spring and summer months. Flower stalks develop in the fall. Provide water when the plants are actively growing, and very little when they are dormant.

You may cut the final flower stems to display decoratively. This will not hurt the plants and the cuts last long periods of time indoors. After they finish blooming for the year, cut off any remaining flower stalks. Your plants will rest for the winter months before sending up new growth in the springtime. Over time, nerine lilies will form clumps. They like to be crowded, so don’t feel pressed to divide them unless flower production begins to decrease. Clumps can then be dug, split apart, and moved to other parts of the garden, or shared with friends.

When Sasuke looks up, deep in thought, he notices Naruto searching for what he assumes is echinacea, flitting stiffly at random between the first two displays and scratching his head. Wordlessly with the package of lily bulbs still in hand, Sasuke points to the bottom right corner of the first, where several color selections are.

“Thanks, teme!” Naruto plows back to the specified stand and stoops down comically slowly, though Sasuke barely sees, gaze drawn pensively back to the packet he was examining.

The memorial stone has decent drainage, aside from the occasional hard rain like last weekend; that will become less common as the weather warms, and one or two monsoons a summer never drowned his mother’s lilies. Shade in the afternoon could be an issue, though. There’s a large oak tree on the west side that might cast some protection over it, but he only ever visits under the cover of night, so he’s unsure. He would have to examine the trajectory in person to gauge.

He considers the market bag the groceries were handed to him in earlier, studying it closely.

Carefully, he puts the package back where he found it, though his eyes linger on it. He’s no gardener, not like Sakura is, and besides, his arm hurts.

XXX

He’s leaning up against one of the blue columns outside of the hospital when Sakura emerges at three, sprightly as ever. She’s holding the two journals and the medical text from their first trip to the library; she said yesterday that she needed to return them, but there shouldn’t be any new ones she needs to check out just yet. He hadn’t stayed terribly long after they’d finished the tenmusu because he needed to shower and write his mission report, but they’d made plans to swing by the library and journey back up the hillside to read together again. There was also mention of possibly picking up food afterwards, to take to her place. Hazel Wood must be in her tote, hooked around her shoulder.

“Sasuke-kun,” she greets cheerfully. “Whew. It’s getting warm out already.”

“...It is,” Sasuke comments before he extends his hand for her texts, his own already held there, a silent offer to carry them for her.

She blushes as she passes them to him, sliding them into his hand. His eyes drift to the freckle on her cheek, and he wipes his mind blank by sheer willpower alone as they head east. The books aren’t as heavy as the groceries had been earlier, so it doesn’t hurt as much, but he's wondering at this point if the bone might actually have a small crack. He thinks he should ask her to look at it; maybe later, at her apartment.

“My balcony days may be numbered by now, at least until the fall comes,” Sakura observes as they meander.

He contemplates. “...Do you sit out there often?” It is so utterly befitting of her that he thinks he can picture it, her reading out there, surrounded by plants. He wonders if she ever admires the night sky. Their team had stargazed sometimes, on missions that first year as Genin.

Green eyes settle on him from his right. “I like to, when it’s nice out. A lot of times in the summer it gets too hot, though there is an occasional night when it’s cool enough. Fall is really the best for it. You can see the changing leaves from above. Even if it's a chillier day, it’s pleasant with some tea and a blanket in the evening."

He debates for a long moment, but decides against bringing up stout squirrels or chestnut-flavored everything or Naruto slipping on a leaf.

“...It sounds nice,” he comments simply instead, wondering if he’ll be invited to sit with her on her balcony, once fall arrives. They would have to sit kind of close; the space doesn’t seem very big from below, and it's cluttered with greenery.

Sakura smiles up at him, a look that says she agrees with his assessment.

Then, she offers softly, "You can sit out there sometime with me, if you'd like."

His neck warms; all he can do is nod and avert his gaze elsewhere, an abundance of something tender and sweet flaring to life in his belly.

Returning the books barely takes two minutes; they’re wandering towards the outskirts of the mountain in short order. Sakura sprawls in the same spot she did last time, so he takes up the same position, too, leaning up against the trunk of the tree, stable and strong.

And then his eyes catch on another freckle she has, this one near her elbow, and all he can think about is the slightly textured consistency of his ceiling, and whether the impulse to press his lips to her skin without guilt was an okay thing to feel.

She reads and he more contemplates than reads for about an hour, sprawled beneath the scant amount of shade provided by this tree that has lost its petals, trading them in for florets of a greener variety. It’s pleasant, once he can drown his inner disarray of thoughts. He eventually gets through a sliver of his book, though turning the pages is a little cumbersome, tinged lightly with pain. Perhaps he shouldn’t wait until later to ask her to examine his arm.

Sakura finishes her own book, though she keeps the pressed petal between its pages; she must have gotten through more of it while he was on the way to and from Suna. She just reclines there, after, looking up at the sky with her arms at her sides, near exactly the relaxed pose she used to lie in when they were younger.

Sasuke finishes the passage he’s on, and marks his place with the petal she’d plucked from his hair last week, before pointedly setting the text aside and following her eyes to the azure. Fluffy clouds are floating by as the sun inches closer to the west horizon, pushed steadily by the breeze.

“How is Ichika’s recommendation?” She questions.

“...Interesting.” He genuinely is enjoying reading it, despite his aberration.

Her head angles towards him, lying against a gnarled root at a slightly different angle. Her expression is curious, like she’s encouraging him to elaborate.

“Simple, but heavy with metaphors.” He considers for a second, then adds, “You might like it. Poetic.”

Full lips twist upwards. “Maybe I’ll read it next. Her recommendations are usually pretty apt; she gets a good read on people.”

“...How was yours?”

“Hmm.” She pauses, as if thinking it over. “A girl and her mother who get caught up in some bad luck. They inherit an estate - that’s where the title comes from - and supernatural things start happening. It’s kind of a story within a story situation; the grandmother they inherited the house from was an author, so they start going back and reading her writing for clues.”

“...A mystery.” It seems like she’ll read any genre. Mysteries would probably entertain her; she’s always liked to solve things.

She laughs, music to his ears. “Yeah, I suppose it is. It was pretty good. Well written; better than the last one.”

There is a pause.

“...Maybe I’ll read it next,” he echoes, her same words from earlier.

Green sparkles at him, amused before she shifts back towards the firmament.

“...Sounds like a book club.”

It is the most Sakura joke. He huffs a ghost of a laugh as more gauzy clouds drift idly by. It is peaceful, sitting here underneath the same sky as her, observing in easy silence through branches with fresh emerald buds.

And then Sasuke flexes his forearm, shifting slightly, and it still hurts. He considers; she probably won’t mind.

"...I think Naruto cracked my arm bone," he finally confides.

She turns to him, expression fluctuating immediately into one of disquiet, pink brows knotting closer in concern. He blinks and she's standing already, walking over and sitting cross-legged in the nearest open space, an indent in gnarled roots that she navigated through and found a place in as if it were nothing.

Wordlessly, Sasuke holds it out for her to inspect once she’s seated, and she gently rests her fingertips on his forearm.

"It’s from this morning?” Sakura asks, looking concerned in a way that makes his heart thump a little. Or maybe it’s from her hands encircling his skin.

He nods; she must have deduced that they trained earlier. She prods gently before threading green chakra beneath his skin towards the bone, probing for a break.

She frowns. "Oblique fracture in the ulna, though it's very slight and non-displaced.” Her gaze flicks up to him, and all at once, it’s the exam room again, him hyper aware of how close she is to him even though this is clinician Sakura. “I’ll fix it; you really shouldn't have been carrying anything on it."

It takes him a moment to realize she’s referring to him carrying her books earlier, because he’s thinking about the groceries from the market, which were definitively heavier. Her proximity and the aroma of tart berry and the freckle on her cheekbone are all incredibly distracting. Especially the freckle. He peers at her fingers, glowing verdant, and notices one on the inner portion of her right wrist, too.

"...Sorry." He says finally, flicking his eyes back up to her nervously after a long minute is spent mending marrow back together. She inclines her head back down to his arm, apparently accepting his apology for not mentioning it sooner. It's an odd sensation; he can feel the crack fusing from the inside out, ataractic chakra seeping into the diaphysis to fortify.

He feels like he should clarify, so he adds as she works, eyes fixed on her face which has settled in concentration, “I thought it was just bruised at first.” She nods as if that makes sense, working on it for another minute or so without glancing up.

He hopes she's not mad at him. Sasuke shifts his gaze downwards, something in him sinking.

“Flex it, then bend, please,” she requests, not moving her digits; she must need to feel the arm move to determine if it’s healed. He does as she asks and it’s notedly improved, no lingering pain.

“It’s better. Thank you.” He looks upwards just as she does, hoping the jade will still be soft on charcoal.

It is, startlingly so, and she’s flushing all of a sudden, dropping her hands from his arm and rising to her feet a step away, as if she, too, just realized how close they were. It's different here, daylight and not part of their routine like her entryway is becoming.

“You’re welcome,” she says somewhat hastily, complexion darkening. He’s not sure he’s much better; his neck is warm, and he remembers very specifically where each of her fingers had just been on his skin, like the ten points of contact are singed into his epidermis, and likely his grey matter, too.

As he tries to force his pulse to even out, Sakura adds, softly, “You could have just come in with him.”

His brows furrow in confusion. “...What?”

Sakura blinks, countenance appearing as if she is sorting through a problem in her head. Pink dissolves back to her normal coloring.

“Naruto came in with a slipped back rib, earlier today. I assumed it was from sparring with you.” She rolls her eyes, then. “He went and got groceries before coming in; he had them with him. Luckily nothing chilled; he had to wait for a bit.”

"...He didn't say anything about his rib." Now the slow rising and crouching is making more sense.

She sighs, closing her eyes for a second as if something has become clear, but she only replies, "Ah. Of course."

"...Wouldn’t shut up?"

"...Yeah." She turns away slightly, cheeks stained anew for some reason; it makes him curious what their third teammate babbled to her about. "He said as I was kicking him out that he was going to plant flower bulbs with Hinata this afternoon. He showed me the ones he picked. It’s good timing; the perfect time of year to plant some. Pretty soon it'll be too warm."

He lets those words drizzle slowly into his being, a little gentler than a summer monsoon.

"...Our next Hokage can't pronounce echinacea," he eventually tells her.

She chuckles with mirth, a sweet sound he finds relieving; she must have gathered he was present for that endeavor, now, and she can't be too mad at him if he can still make her laugh. Sasuke inwardly hopes she doesn’t gather that he also got groceries; he doesn’t think she’d be very impressed. It was kind of stupid to do that with a questionable arm, in retrospect.

"No," Sakura acknowledges finally, appearing highly entertained. "And he didn’t know what a perennial was until this morning, yet he’s planting an army of them. Probably without reading the directions."

They look over the village together for a lengthy moment in which he considers text printed on the back of a white package.

Then she says his name, so quietly it’s almost a whisper. "Sasuke-kun.”

He angles to her, and sweet jade is on him again, ebbing seafoam cresting as the late afternoon sunlight hits her.

"Thank you for telling me about your arm. In the future, please come to the hospital, if I'm working. You can wait in my office, if you’d prefer. I don't mind; use the window.” Her expression changes to troubled, and suddenly she is no longer the clinician version of Sakura; everything is tinged with something more, something that burns him in its intensity. “You shouldn’t just… suffer in silence, if something hurts. Even if you think it’s nothing. Please tell me."

Oh. She’s not mad, just worried. Heat grazes his ears, and he swallows, staring down at his forearm.

He wants to be close to her. He really does.

"Okay,” he agrees, and means it, carefully meeting green.

They head down the hill together to seek dinner before the rush hits, deciding to go to the yakitori stand she mentioned when he first returned. She chatters about how Naruto wants to have a bonfire in his backyard, once summer’s here and everything is planted.

“...He’s excited about his yard,” Sasuke comments after they’ve ordered, leaning against the wall of the exterior waiting for their takeout. He requested his without the sauce, since Sakura said it’s on the sweeter side for yakitori.

Sakura grins, and she’s really pretty, shadows of a nearby tree dappling her skin, cheeks still red because he paid. It’s only fair; she’s been feeding him. “Yeah, he is. I’d like to see their flowers and garden in the back, eventually. I’m sure once they’ve got it how they want it, they’ll have all kinds of get-togethers back there. Last year we carved pumpkins at their place, instead of at Ino’s and Sai’s; there’s less mess to clean up if it’s outside. He said today that you should come this year.”

“...What?”

She blinks as if remembering something, then smiles sheepishly. “So I never mentioned this, because it happened after I…” She flushes, and she looks away for a second. “...After I sent a letter for the month already, but Sai learned about this artistic thing they do in the Land of Woods, a couple years ago.” Her gaze shifts back to his. “They hollow out pumpkins and carve designs into them, in late October. Warding off evil spirits as they go into the cooler season or something; they put them on their doorsteps with candles in them so the carvings light up the night. It’s odd, but I think it’s become a tradition now. It’s fun, once you get the hang of it. We roast the seeds with salt and Hinata bakes pumpkin bread.”

That sounds entirely odd and completely characteristic of Sai; he supposes there is the artistic angle to consider. Sasuke passed through the Land of Woods three separate times, but never in the fall. “What kind of designs?”

She smiles as if she’s trying not to laugh; his expression must be that of one who is exceedingly perplexed. He supposes it’s not an expression he wears often. “Well, they’re supposed to be scary, I think, but we don’t really do well at making them that way. They’re more funny or decorative. Sai makes pretty good ones, I guess, mean faces with sharp teeth.”

“...What do you carve?”

Her eyes twinkle. “I tried a leaf, the first year, and a crescent moon the second. Sai and I teamed up to carve one for Kakashi-sensei, too, last year; a scarecrow with a cat.”

A crescent moon is not at all what he would have guessed she’d gravitate towards; he thinks immediately of the Six Paths Yin Seal that once adorned a hand he no longer has. Then he comprehends the final part of that sentence.

“...A cat?”

“Oh. Yeah, he got a cat.”

“...His summons are dogs.”

She giggles. “Yeah, Naruto and I thought it was weird at first, too, but he does kind of seem like he’d be more of a cat person overall, the more we thought about it.” Sakura shrugs. “He’s in the village most of the time now, being Hokage, so I guess he thought he could be around enough to take care of one? They’re more low-maintenance than a dog would be. I usually get tasked with feeding it and changing its litter, when he travels to watch the Chunin and Jonin Exams.”

Momentarily, he wonders if Sakura knows what’s under Kakashi’s mask; their old sensei allowing her into his space in his absence may have given her opportunities for some form of low-key reconnaissance on the matter.

Then his brain seizes on another notion, one that’s far more amusing, because she said she teamed up with Sai, and that can only mean one thing.

“...What does Naruto carve?”

Sakura’s grin widens as if she perceives exactly what thought he’s just had. She probably does; she knows him well. “He’s terrible at it. His never look like anything; just orange mush. He loves it, though, and Hinata puts it on their front step anyway.”

He snorts. Figures.

A bell dings, so they peer back in, and sure enough, their food is ready. Sakura steps forward to collect it, thanking the worker, but as she turns, she pauses.

Sasuke follows her gaze, and sees none other than their third teammate in the street, walking their direction and waving emphatically. He’s wearing a different pair of pants, knees absolutely covered in dirt and grass stains.

“Oi, teme! Sakura-chan!”

Sakura glances up to him before swiveling towards the road, their food in hand; Sasuke trails close behind, pushing apart the hanging banners of the stand as he steps beyond the threshold of the restaurant.

“Naruto,” Sakura greets when they’re out in the open.

“...Dobe.”

“Looks like you’ve planted everything,” Sakura says more than asks, gesturing to his pants as evidence.

“Hehe, yep, all of ‘em! It was work, but it will be worth it, later in the year.” Naruto scratches his head, grinning. Sasuke lets those words sink in, too, drenching dead roots.

“And now you’re getting Hinata yakitori as a treat?” Sakura pushes, seeming incredibly amused.

“Well…” Naruto looks away bashfully, grinning ear to ear. “Yeah. Gotta repay her somehow. She has good ideas. I just follow her lead.” He looks back to them, then. “Did you tell teme about all our awesome plans?”

Sasuke’s focus falls to Sakura, who is flushed, biting her lip in a smile.

“I may have started to.”

“Well, good, because our yard is going to be totally the best, and if he thinks he’s getting out of it...” the dobe points at him accusingly, “Then I’ll kick his ass!”

Sasuke scoffs. “As if you could.”

Sakura shakes her head, pink locks fluttering with the motion. “Always with the physicalities... Anyways, I’m sure it will be lovely, when everything finally comes together.”

An uncommonly stretched pause passes where blue eyes zero in on the food container Sakura is holding, before they travel up to the two of them.

The grin shifts to something remarkably tender.

“...Yeah. I’m sure it will be.” He says it with the utmost confidence, like he is as certain about it as he is about the sun rising tomorrow, and Sasuke gets the sense that he is no longer referring to gardening.

The moment passes, and then Naruto is punching them each on the shoulder respectively and sidestepping away towards the yakitori stand. “Anyways, gotta go, so I’ll catch ya later! I’m guessing you have plans of your own.”

Sasuke blinks as their teammate disappears into the restaurant, ears burning a little. When his vision travels down to his right, Sakura is blushing a dark red. She meets his gaze, smiling sheepishly.

They turn to go to her building. The entire way there, Sasuke considers everything in the beginnings of a green that seems endless, nurtured by people from all walks of life. He has been noticing it this whole time, since his return, but now he's thinking about how dull it would be without it, whether it’s dirt roads or lifeless grey granite. This is not the wilds, where seeds sprout unabated. Here, one must put in the work to grow things, find suitable locations and till the soil.

When they reach Sakura’s apartment, his eye lingers on her plants as he follows her inside. She sets the takeout on the table by her window. A shadow of a leaf from the jasmine above them is cast hazily out of focus on her left cheek.

“Would you like any sauce with yours? I could make some teriyaki sauce quick, or I have lemons I’ll be cutting up anyway for mine.”

“...Lemon?” Citrus complements chicken, he knows, but he understands that to mean she’s planning on putting it on hers, over top of the yakitori sauce.

Her lips curve upwards. “I like it on other things, too. It’s good on yakitori.”

So Sakura slices a lemon and it sits on the center of the table between them as they eat. She drizzles her yakitori with three of them, and he takes the other three. The chicken is pretty good, tart with the citrus and seared alongside green onions. It’s still warm, as it wasn’t a long walk to her place at all, a convenient sort of sustenance.

“...What else do you like lemon on?”

She chews thoughtfully, swallowing before answering. “Hmm, a lot of things. Fish, even ones that are usually served with lime. Pork. I like it on vegetables, too. Salads, pasta, rice. Most desserts that include lemon I like, as well.” She pauses again, and adds, “Lemonade, if it’s homemade.”

No wonder they’re always in her fridge. “...And tea.”

His heart flips at the way she smiles at him.

“...And tea,” she agrees.

They watch the streets fill and empty from her window, finishing the meal in a companionable reticence, smelling faintly of citrus rind and shadowed by greenery from above.

He helps her prepare decaffeinated sencha after, trying not to stare at the freckle on her cheek. He’s pondering this morning further, the notions of impetus and yearning, and also the way she says his name, but this time uttered softly under a cherry blossom tree with an invitation into her office, if something hurts.

Sakura cares about him. A lot. Sasuke knows this, has known for years, but it’s the actions of her affection, the way she expresses it purely and simply as if it’s a true north cascading through her veins, that has inched its way into his bone marrow, engraved on the latibule he carved inwardly to avoid dry swallowing life’s more bitter medicines.

As she stirs sugar and honey into her own cup, she asks, “Care for a chess rematch?”

He doesn’t even have to think about it; he nods his assent. It’s time to test something.

They arrange the board together at her table. The first round, Sasuke cautiously plans every move, surveying alternating squares and attempting to predict what strategy Sakura will employ. In some instances, he mirrors her, moving a rook a turn after she does, shifting a pawn out of imminent danger, and so on. It’s a very involved way to play, requiring attentive calculation of each move.

It’s a prolonged match that he eventually loses with a final sweeping motion of her remaining bishop, but it’s fairly close.

“...Again?”

She grins and wordlessly starts setting up the pieces she has captured, so he begins to set up hers. It’s an interesting task, a message of opposites, her setting up his dark figures and him setting up her light ones.

The second round, he simply follows his instincts, negating planning ahead farther than a couple of turns. If he gets an impulse to shift a pawn one way, he does. If his gut tells him to move the knight into her territory or to retreat a rook, he goes with it.

It drags on for the better part of an hour, and ends in a stalemate.

The smile she gives him is breathtaking, a broad and warmhearted validation.

“You’re good,” she comments, jade eyes dancing with joy. He gets the impression that it is not often she gets forced into a draw. He wonders who else she plays with. It can't be Naruto, but maybe Sai or Ino also play.

“...So are you.” He is somewhat reassured now. His impulses used to be ruinous, stemming from anger and anxiety and loss, but perhaps his journey helped in that regard. He just needs to make sure they're rooted in the right things, whether it be logic or affection, and then the major task becomes to feel rather than to overthink.

When he kisses her good night in her entryway, another movie watched and plans for tomorrow later, he doesn’t reach for the freckle the first time, though his hand twitches with the longing to. It’s treasured, this tender pressing of lips that feels like dipping a toe into still water. It is imbued with both of her hands resting on his shoulders again, ten fingertips that have him in her grip more than she could possibly fathom.

He studies her eyes when he pulls away, staring down into soft depths of viridescence. He will drown in them someday, he thinks, slowly but surely working up the courage to wade into the deep end.

The second time he kisses her, he lets himself graze her cheek to truly appreciate the difference, allowing acknowledgment of the impulse, compelled forward rather than backward as if bound by some metaphorical form of northern star situated on the rise of her cheekbone.

Sakura leans into his touch once more as she did yesterday, but this time, she brings up her own hand and delicately lets her fingertips rest atop the outside of his, as if she encourages the caress, thumb brushing against his knuckle as his lips gently brush hers. Her other hand stays resting on his clavicle, a tender embrace, osculant in a way he has hoped for countless times, inclusive of this morning.

It is exactly what he needed, a catalyst of encouragement comprised of a heat that is gentle, coaxing, but still brands him all the same.

Maybe it's okay to want to skim her freckles and more, to allow the affinities he has to breathe. They’re together now; it stands to reason they'll one day venture into territory more uncharted, if he can concede to that kind of vulnerability. Not that he’s anywhere near ready for that - he’s not - but his instincts don’t appear to be all disastrously calamitous. Touching her cheek is something she clearly welcomes.

Sasuke gave in to darker tendencies once. Perhaps it's okay to give in to lighter ones; nothing grows in the absence of light, after all. He brushes a thumb across the high point of her cheekbone once more with her hand encompassing his before they part, embracing a new habit prior to whispering good night.

The way she smiles up at him, skin aflush and glimmering eyes, is everything.

XXX

He inspects the stone and the soil surrounding it for a long while, heavy-heartedly trying to ignore the encyclopedia of names in favor of envisioning what it would look like with lilies surrounding it. Less lugubrious, probably. The trajectory of the tree’s shadow would touch the stone in the evening, he sees, now that he’s here in person. He only ever haunts this place after nightfall when there's less chance of someone happening upon him. He wishes it was more secluded for that reason; maybe healing happens in the sunshine, and that’s why he still struggles with coming here after so many years, creature of the night that he is.

Evenings with Sakura feel like healing, though, and they linger after hours consistently. Maybe next time he’ll visit his dead kin at twilight, a brittle sort of compromise.

He'll see if the impulse still grips him tomorrow, and then decide. He knows his mother would like them. Itachi would, too, although it never feels like he's here, not the same way that it feels like the rest of them are, the air weighted with an accursed brand of perfume pouring outward in all directions.

White lilies may be able to touch the light in his stead for the time being. Even if they don’t grow, he at least will know he tried, and there is always next year. By then, he may have the capability of asking Sakura if she would help him; she’s clearly a capable gardener, and there should be less sediment, if he puts in the work.

By the time he leaves for his apartment, a thin layer has loosened.

#naruto #sasusaku #ssfanfiction #cherry writes #like gold #fanfiction #i said chapter 7 by the end of august and we cut it kind of close but we made it B)

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fermented-writers-block · 3 years

Text

Lus and the Human Portal Clone Theory

Even before Keeping Up A-fear-ances aired, I have been working for almost a year now on running through all the possible various suspects with wonderful folks like @sepublic , @anistarrose , and @elementalist-kdj . Like the post title indicates, from sheer process of elimination, the only conclusion that made sense to me was a clone made of Luz by the portal door, and I’ve been working on refining and reworking said conclusion up to the version I will lay out here.

Now, as @safetayy , @theowlhouseheadcanons , and @50shades-of-blue have heard from me before, the portal I've long suspected was not made to go from the Demon Realm to the Human Realm, but rather to go from the Human Realm to the Demon Realm by humans, for humans. This is because it then could tie into the hypothetical existence of a Luz clone without having the issue of asking where Eda, Lilith, and King's clones are, as the clone in this case is the result of a function of the door to create a basic level duplicate of any human that passes through it rather than it happening for just anyone that passes through.

With this, it's because the suitcase form of the portal looks as thought it indicates it was used for temporary trips to the Demon Realm, much like how suitcases were used when railways and international boats made travel more accessible for the middle and lower classes. For example:

Going by the way the door “faces” and the way it swings open, the ergonomics of the portal makes it look an awful lot like a right handed out swing door, with the Human Realm on the “inside” and the Demon Realm on the “outside.” And the arrow in the diagram depicts the general direction of traffic that such right handed, out swing doors are typically design with in mind - ergo, showing what way the portal appears to facilitate travel in.

Now, before you ask, the reason why I think the portal could have been created in the human realm in the first place is that it might require an extra component/bit of help or two from the Owl Deity which I’ve discussed before in the past as hinted by these connected designs:

I’ll explore how I feel the revelation that such a twist about the portal’s origins could play into the themes and narrative of the show under the cut, but overall, I feel these are potential significant details to keep in mind for the rest of this arc of building a new door and handling the idea of Lus having initially been made as a temporary-duration clone, hence how "Luz" comes off so uncannily in the letters as she wasn't meant for long term impersonations.

That, and why I named this the Human Portal Clone theory, for those wondering about the name.

Alongside this, my thought has been that walking back through the portal to the Human Realm basically makes the portal send a recall signal to tell the clone to return to it, where the clone would be reabsorbed into the portal and its memories are given to the original. However, with Luz going back into the Demon Realm for a brief time in YBOS, I am of the mind that it doesn’t just make another clone, but rather that doing so merely made the door turn off the recall signal and allowed "Lus" to resume the impersonation.

And as for the clone itself and why they’re writing letters to Camila, well, imagine it from Lus' perspective. To her at the time of creation, the last thing she probably knew was that she had been chasing the cute little owl that took her Azura book into the woods, and right when the bus to Reality Check Camp was about to arrive.

Also, if you think about it, Lus being the work of someone we/don’t know yet raises way more plot threads/questions than answers compared to being the work of the portal, as outlined below:

TLDR at end of post for those wondering

Belos? How and why before YBOS where he actually started paying attention to Luz for the first time and actually got his hands on a portal?

Eda? Why would she do all this and not tell Luz she can goof around without needing to worry about her mom or the camp/in time to fool the camp, especially when it took a good amount of time for Eda to even start feeling that close to Luz?

Hooty got ruled out from the getgo since he can’t hold pencils, King just isn’t that subtle, and everyone else that Luz knows has the major issues of just straight up not knowing about the camp in the first place. Well, that and a lack of another known method of getting to the Human Realm in the first place.

The camp? Why would they worry about a missing camper whose disappearance is all HER fault and thus would more logically result in a call to her parent than some convoluted clone conspiracy?

And finally, some currently completely unknown third party?

If we’re talking a Changeling, A) it’d be easy for Luz to dismiss them and B) that just makes all the ominous portrayal of Lus super straightforward instead of a subversion like is the show’s shtick.

If we’re talking dimensional counterparts, A) they have to REALLY have led a very similar life to Luz’s in order for there to be enough common ground for Luz to listen, and B) dimensional counterparts aren’t even a confirmed or likely thing that people cooked up from Episode 1 side characters influenced by Amity’s concept art.

And if we’re talking some complete surprise third party group or another, it doesn’t make sense to introduce a third party and their motives and plans to the show this late in when Belos is already taking up the bulk of it all.

Hell, if anything, the continued existence of the duplicate in of itself would indicate that the target of the conspiracy is none other than Camila Noceda than anything to do with Luz or Eda, especially with the complete lack of anyone taking advantage of Luz and or Eda.

From the getgo, Witches Before Wizards already hard-baked into the show the idea that Luz is NOT inherently special or anything into the foundations of the show from the getgo - ergo, Camila likely just is an absolutely regular human being, someone who has no justification for such a convoluted conspiracy to surround them.

That said, I believe that the idea of the portal having originated from the Human Realm could potentially play into some interesting stories to be had with Camila and Lus here, especially as the conspiracy board shot from the promo was confirmed by Dana to apparently be from S2A, not from the episodes past Yesterday’s Lie:

After all, with Luz searching the library for a way home this coming episodes, perhaps she might figure out something the next couple of episodes that allows her texts to send through, which would logically lead to the above picture. That, and Camila and Lus being confused by and trying to figure out what’s going on there.

I mean, the cabin in the woods likely has a very close connection to the portal and it’s origins given how closely tied the two structures seem to be, and as far as we can tell, Luz never mentioned the cabin in her videos to Camila, but if Lus tries to retrace her steps, that would be a natural vector to lead Camila to the cabin and thus allow us a chance to actually investigate it.

That said, all following the trail would do is lead her and Lus to a dead end at the abandoned cabin, where they would have nothing else to do except discuss their complicated relationship concerning Luz and twiddle their thumbs while waiting for Luz to finish things on her end - which while something I think would be interesting to see, I just don’t see how much of a way to keep them in the greater picture of the show without some kind of project or activity that the two of them could work together on on screen.

And that’s what leads me to a particular train of thought here, starting with the question of what if Luz FAILS to make a working portal over the course of S2A and such?

With the possible in-universe mystery over what the heck is going on with Lus, perhaps the cabin might hold some notes from the original last human owner - if not potentially the creator - of Eda’s portal as well as potentially some of the same materials and such from previous trips.

Cue CAMILA building a working portal, following in the footsteps of the original creator and such and thus finding a reason to stay on screen, all the while potentially demonstrating both why Belos wanted the portal instead of making his own, as well as diving into the Owl Deity’s connection with the original portal. Heck, maybe the Owl Deity is only accessible in the Human Realm and that plays a part in Belos wanting to get to the Human Realm, which would bring Camila directly into contact with the magic her daughter has been interacting with.

Also, just imagine the internal conflict going on here with Lus. After all, helping Camila build a portal to get the original Luz -and hoo boy would that be a tough thing to grapple with- would most definitely do that and make both Lus AND Camila question how much the latter likes Lus vs Luz.

Like, just imagine it. There would be major chances for Lus and Camila to discuss what would happen if and when they’re finished with the portal, and what will happen to Lus’ relationship with Camila if and when Luz gets back.

Does Camila really prefer her daughter to be all more “normal” like Lus, or does she prefer the old, “weird” daughter from before the summer with Luz?

Perhaps she might be able to figure out how to strike a nuanced balance between the two, and all on a metaphorical journey to truly build a better connection between her and her daughter(s?).

TLDR: Or in short, I can’t help but feel it would be fitting to see Camila building a bridge WITH Lus TO Luz.

Particularly, by being the one to craft an actual working portal in the Human Realm instead of Luz in the Demon Realm, showing a parent putting in an active effort to get down to their child’s level rather than waiting for said child to try to get up to their parent’s level even if they can’t or find it incredibly hard to do so.

#the owl house #the owl house theory #owl house theory #toh theory #toh #owl deity hooty theory #camila noceda #lus #lus noceda #luz noceda #toh speculation #the owl house speculation

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gaycrouton · 3 years

Text

Ray of Light

For the first time since being back, he felt the heaviness weighing him down start to fade away. The fog had lifted and he could see the life he’d actually come back to — one where the love of his life was carrying his child. Not a life that had gone on without him, but one that desperately needed him there.

Alternatively; Mulder and Scully's first time after he's returned.

angst and pregnancy smut | discussions of trauma | msr | 7k | ao3 | dedicated to the wonderful @sclly

Before Mulder had been abducted, he was finally in a relationship with Scully, or at least that's what he thought of it as. They didn't use the words dating or boyfriend and girlfriend, but they spent every night together, they were intimate in every possible sense of the word, and he'd never felt more loved in his entire life.

When he returned, she was pregnant, had a new partner at work, and on his first night back she drove back to her apartment and left him alone.

Looking back, he knew she was respecting the fact he said he needed time to process everything, but she had no idea how much it added to his confusion. He was uncertain of where he stood with Scully, so he buried himself in his work since it's where he felt most secure, despite her protests. Mulder knew people thought he was being rude, hell even he did at times, but every time he looked into Scully's eyes, he saw nothing but worry and sympathy.

Yesterday he'd broken into the census bureau with Agent Doggett, only for it to be a bust. They'd been laying low at Scully's apartment ever since, and the awkward tension between them just kept mounting. He tried to think of what to say, only to end up feeling like anything he said would come across as curt, and he wanted to avoid saying something else that might hurt her. The last thing he ever wanted was him coming back from the dead just to continue making her sad.

The first thing he noticed about his apartment was that it didn't look like the apartment of a man who'd been missing for months. It was spotless. Cleaner than he'd ever seen it. It made his heart ache thinking of the Scully who was so firm in her convictions he'd come back that she had clearly spent a lot of time making the apartment look great for his return. It made him feel even worse thinking of what response she'd imagined he'd have upon seeing it, only to be met with pure apathy.

As soon as he realized the molly was dead it just felt like a cosmic kick while he was already down. It might've just been one fish that could easily be replaced for $2, but that particular fish was part of a pair Scully had given him early in their partnership when she wasn't sure what he'd like as a gift. She'd been shy and sweet when she presented the black and white duo swimming together in a bag. "These were the only two left and I didn't want to split them up." He'd put them in the tank and, while the black one blended in with the others he had, the white one always swam around and reminded him of her. Now he couldn't even have that.

Despite the lack of communication happening right now, and how much work had been put into making him feel like his space was ready for him to come back, he still found himself staying at her apartment most nights. That first night he spent alone in his place was filled with dream after dream getting tortured — saws going into his chest, his skin being pulled from his body, the pain he could still feel resonating in his bones like a phantom limb. He'd wake up every few hours to the sounds of his own screams resonating off the empty apartment walls. There was always a pause where he waited for her to roll over or for the sounds of her footsteps to rush down the hallway, but it never came. The only thing that brought him comfort was that the bed smelled like her.

It didn't matter how clean his apartment was because that was never what he was coming back to. Scully was his home, and without her, he felt lost. Yesterday he never made a move to leave and she never asked him to. He wasn't sure if he was welcome in her bed, so he purposefully stayed up later than her and passed out on her couch. As had been their rapport as of late, she didn't say anything, but he could tell from her hurt expression that he'd made the wrong decision.

Luckily he could always trust Scully to know how to be his ray of light whenever he managed to lose his footing in the darkness.

"I know how you feel," she murmured lightly while sitting next to him on the couch.

It was so out of the blue he wasn't sure what to respond. The show they'd been watching had gone to commercial break and, apparently, so had them pretending everything was normal. He turned to her, wanting her to know he was giving her his full attention.

"When I came back, I um," she paused, her fingers starting to play with the silken edge of a maternity pajama top. "I felt so out of place within my own life. I felt like I didn't know how to be myself in a world that had gone on without me."

The irony was not lost on him that what he remembered most of those few months after she came back was how frustrated he'd been with her pushing herself. She'd taken a mere week off to recover from they didn't even know what injuries, and she was demanding to work as if all was fine. Mulder recognized it as a diversion tactic, it was more comfortable to focus on work than to process trauma, but he'd gotten frustrated with her, and here he was doing the same thing. The only difference seemed to be she knew from experience it didn't help.

"It took me years to feel like I'd caught up. I still have a hard time grappling with those months I was gone, and that I'll never get that time back. All the things I might've done in that time that were robbed from me. I remember when three months passed since I'd been returned, when I'd been back as long as I'd been missing, I still didn't feel fully like myself. Every external factor was the same, it was just me having a hard time adapting."

He listened to her, entranced by her admission. When he asked how she was doing back then, he'd gotten a lot of 'fines,' and he ended up not asking anymore in fear he was prying and annoying her. To hear her speak so candidly about her experience made him want to go back in time and hug the young woman who felt like he did now. He knew he was empathizing as best he could back then, but now having experienced what it's like, he realized there was no way he could have fully understood the depth and complexity of her emotions.

Scully turned to him with a deep breath and took his hand in her own. "I couldn't imagine coming back to every aspect of my life being different. I at least had the comfort of familiarity when I returned, and I could assimilate back into my old life while trying to process my trauma. I'm sorry if I was rushing you earlier when you said you were having problems processing and figuring out how you fit in."

Her ability to articulate what he was feeling was a relief, and almost eerie. Mulder knew he should say something so she didn't feel like she was talking to a brick wall, but she was saying it better than he ever could and he had missed the sound of her voice.

"I guess what got me through your absence was imagining your return," she admitted, confirming his earlier belief about her being at his apartment which now felt like a diorama of her grief. "I hate it when you're sad, so I didn't want to imagine you that way. It was wrong of me to cling to an image of you who'd come back and react like everything is fine when I know firsthand how unrealistic of an expectation that is to meet."

Mulder knew it was a sensitive question to ask, but he wanted to know. "How did you get through it when you thought I was dead? When it didn't seem like there was a possibility of me coming back?"

Scully's hold on his hand tightened as her face crumpled slightly. He squeezed her hand and stroked the skin on the back of her hand encouragingly. "I tried not to think of how you looked laying in that field," she stated, her voice quivering before a sharp staccato inhalation.

Shit. He hadn't even thought of the fact Scully might have seen his body like that. It made sense she'd want to see it and confirm for herself, Scully was a scientist who needed proof above all else, but he'd imagined her mourning his body on an autopsy table in the comfort of her own domain. Not that she'd seen him in whatever state he was crudely discarded in.

Mulder didn't think he could ever voice to her what he would have done if the situation was reversed and he had found her body dead in a field.

He could tell from her response that it was an image that had traumatized her, something that would no doubt haunt her for the rest of her life; but she managed to close her eyes, take a deep breath, and turn to him to continue.

There would never be a moment in his life where he wasn't astounded by her strength.

"I spent a lot of time in Karen Kosseff's office, and I just tried to focus on staying alive for the baby," she said, putting her other hand on her stomach.

His attention was drawn to the hand rubbing her stomach and that familiar knot of jealousy formed in his throat, threatening to choke him. Someone else had granted her the miracle he wanted to give her and there was nothing he could do about it. He didn't even know if it was his place to be upset about it or if he was overstepping. The first time she'd done IVF, when she'd asked him, he felt included — like no matter what, he'd be a part of her and the baby's life. But clearly, she did it again and it made him feel like he hadn't actually needed to be a part of the process. That his involvement wasn't expected or, even worse, truly wanted.

While their conversation had made him feel better, it was that bump underneath her clothes that made him feel like he wasn't invited to a part of her life he wanted to be in more than she knew. Mulder wanted to tell her he'd raise the baby like his own if she'd let him, but the thought of her saying no felt like the last thing he could take right now.

"You can always touch me. You know that, right?" she asked softly off his look.

His hand itched to reach out, but it stayed in his lap. "I'm glad the IVF finally worked for you," he replied, putting all his effort into smiling to show he meant it.

Smiling looked like the furthest thing from her mind. "What?" Scully replied, her brows furrowed in confusion.

"What?" he repeated, confused by her confusion.

Her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth as she bit it in concentration, a look of pain passing her face. "Mulder," she stated hesitantly. "Do you really believe this baby isn't yours?" she asked, hurt she was trying to hide leaking through her words.

Mulder shook his head, dumbstruck. "How could it be?"

"You were right," she shrugged. "I just couldn't give up on a miracle."

"I thought the in-vitro didn't work?" he replied.

"You do remember all the sex we were having before you were taken, right?" she deadpanned. "I trust you got the birds and the bees talk?"

"It's mine," he whispered in shock.

"It's yours," she confirmed with so much conviction his knees would have given out if he was standing. Then, with a layer of vulnerability, she added softly, "You didn't really think…"

Mulder's mind was reeling, but he could still tell she was hurt by his unspoken implication that she'd move on so quickly after how long it had taken them to get together, but he just hadn't known.

"I thought you tried in-vitro again. I thought maybe you asked someone else," he answered weakly, the statement out loud sounding ridiculous to his own ears.

"Who else do you think I'd ask? Skinner?" she asked.

He wasn't going to admit it, but he'd considered it. When he was in the hospital he saw how protective Skinner was of her, how close they seemed to have gotten since he'd been gone. Retrospectively he could see that they likely didn't have many people they could turn to when they were looking for him, so it made sense they would have gotten closer.

"I thought maybe an anonymous donor," he answered with a grimace.

"I could barely get out of bed when you were taken, let alone decide it would be a great time to have a baby," she replied. "Though I will say, I'm glad I had a part of you with me to get me through this. I'm not sure how I would have handled it if I wasn't so concerned with keeping myself healthy for the baby. If I even could have."

Mulder couldn't handle thinking about that, so he focused on her delicate hand resting in his own, the hands that had healed him in more ways than he could count. He pulled it up to his lips and kissed her fingers, inhaling the smell of her lotion as he reveled in the feeling of her skin on his lips once more. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I-I just thought since it didn't work that time and then I saw you pregnant that maybe it was my fault it failed in the first place. I didn't mean to make you feel like I resented you. I never did for a second. I was just depressed that the life I'd been wanting for you and I was happening without me."

Her fingers tightened around his as he pressed their joined hands to his heart. "You're here now," she replied with an encouraging smile.

For the first time since being back, he felt the heaviness weighing him down start to fade away. The fog had lifted and he could see the life he'd actually come back to — one where the love of his life was carrying his child. Not a life that had gone on without him, but one that desperately needed him there.

He looked down at her swollen stomach and felt a smile break out on his face. Scully was pregnant with their baby. The words didn't even feel real. It felt too good to be true. She tugged his hand towards her and brought it to her stomach, pressing it against her bulge while splaying out his fingers. When Mulder looked up, she was smiling back at him and he realized how much he'd missed seeing that. He had never touched a pregnant woman's stomach before, and he was shocked at how firm it was. "What does it feel like?" he asked, astonished.

"At times, lovely, but most of the time I'm exhausted, feel disgusting, and look like an elephant," she chuckled.

He looked up at her and took note of how long and shiny her hair looked and how she truly exemplified that pregnancy 'glow' he always heard people talk about. She was absolutely radiant.

"You're beautiful, Scully," he murmured firmly. "Always."

He watched as tears immediately pooled in her eyes and her lip quiver. "Hey, hey, hey," he replied, scooting over and wrapping an arm around her to pull her into a hug. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into the crook of his neck, pressing kisses to his skin after littering it with her tears. She smelled like cocoa butter and her skin felt unimaginably smooth. "Are you okay?" he murmured into her shoulder.

Scully pulled away slightly with a chuckle and shook her head. "Yeah, I've just been so emotional because of the hormones and I've hated how things were between us and I'm just so happy you're here," she explained, her voice quivering near the end. Without a moment's hesitation, he closed the gap between them, pressing his mouth to hers as if the mere act could be his benediction — a plea for an absolution only she could give.

She met him with equal fervor and for the first time in days, he was home, he finally felt alive.

It was different, kissing her while she was pregnant. It took more maneuvering than he was used to, but he liked it. Every time her stomach grazed his, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and overwhelming affection for her. "I missed you," she whispered against his lips between kisses. "So much."

He let his hands roam through her hair as they kissed, amazed at how thick it was and how the longer strands felt weaving like water in and out of his fingers. Mulder was surprised at the tonal change, but he figured it made sense. They deserved this little piece of heaven after the hell they'd just been through. Being in her arms was exactly where he wanted to be.

Somewhere between Scully pulling on his shirt and their legs shifting against each other, they ended up with Scully laying on her back on the couch while Mulder hovered above her. He was being mindful of not putting any weight on her stomach as he began kissing one of the tendons of her neck, smiling as he felt her pulse thrum under his tongue. A shiver went down his spine as he felt her rake her long fingernails sensually down his back. He moved to the other side of her neck and kissed the vibrations of her moan.

The moment he registered something tickle his inner thigh, she already began palming him through the front of his grey sweatpants, eliciting a hearty groan. He felt his eyes flutter shut in ecstasy as she deftly moved her wrist, stroking him firmly through the fabric. "Scully," he rasped between clenched teeth, burrowing his face into her neck while pumping against her hand.

"Mulder," she rasped.

He pulled away to look at her and watched as she turned away and coughed. Realizing her rasp was out of a lack of breath and not lust, he sat back on his legs out of concern he'd been pressing on her. "Are you okay?" he panted.

She reached out for his arm and he pulled her up into a sitting position. "Yeah," she nodded with a smile. "The baby just smashes my lungs if I'm on my back for too long."

"Do you want to stop?' he asked, rubbing her arms.

"Absolutely not," she replied firmly before she all but pulled him off his feet and led him by the hand to the bedroom.

"What they say about pregnant women's sex drives must be true then, huh?" he teased, following behind her with his own bounding footsteps.

Upon entering her room she turned to him with a mock-severe look, "You have no idea."

Her intensity and the hunger in her eyes made his cock twitch. Mulder pulled her to him, pressing his arousal to her stomach. "I think I can help with that," he murmured.

He brought his hands up in between them and started undoing the buttons of her nightshirt, noting how her nipples were protruding against the fabric. When he'd done research after she initially brought up in-vitro and having a baby, he learned about how much more sensitive women's bodies became. Out of curiosity, he let one finger stray from his mission to flick one nipple teasingly.

His eyes widened with the intensity of her gasp. "Sorry, my breasts are sensitive," she chuckled breathily, confirming his suspicions.

"I didn't even know that was a possibility for you," he teased, knowing he'd made her come from breast play alone before. Not wanting to neglect the other side, he let the back of his index finger graze over the other pebbled nipple and watched as it seemed to become impossibly harder, her breath almost becoming labored from just that.

This was going to be fun.

When the last button was undone, he raked his fingers up her body in between the flaps of fabric. He gently touched the darker line that was running up the middle of her stomach, only pausing to lightly touch her now protruding belly button.

She laughed huskily and did a little pivot sway away from him. "That tickles," she chastised playfully.

He chuckled along with her as he went to her shoulders, sliding his hands under the fabric so that it slid down her arms behind her, fluttering down in a heap at her feet. The sight of her standing shirtless while pregnant in front of him was enough to take his breath away.

It was initially almost imperceivable, but he saw her hands instinctively go to cover herself, only to hesitate and join self-consciously in front of her stomach. At that moment it struck him that it hadn't been a one-off comment in the living room: she really felt insecure about herself. She was trying to hide it, her trust for him feeling like the greatest honor, but he could still see it in her demeanor change. "You have no idea how sexy you are," he praised when he caught her eye.

"Mulder, you don't ha-" she began with a slight shake of her head.

"Don't," he whispered. Mulder raised his hands and cupped her jaw in his palms, coaxing her to look at him fully and see his sincerity. "I love your body. You're carrying our baby, and I'm in awe of you. Scully, you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my entire life, and that most certainly hasn't changed. I don't want to see you doubt yourself."

He was glad to see he hadn't lost the ability to make her blush since he'd been gone. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were misty again. "Thank you," she mouthed, her voice a ghost of a whisper. Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, each cheek, and the tip of her nose before finally resting on her lips, hoping to convey his earnest adoration.

Scully's tongue slid into his mouth to deepen the kiss as her hands wrapped around him, sliding up under his shirt to play with the skin of his lower back. His hands slid away from her jaw and one entangled itself in her hair while the other reached around to cup the back of her neck.

However, where he anticipated meeting the slightly raised line of where he knew her little implant scar was, he felt something that felt significantly more raised. His eyes shot open as he pulled away, all other thoughts temporarily forgotten. Scully had a slightly chagrined expression on her face as her eyes tentatively peeked open.

He didn't wait before walking around her, gently moving her hair aside so he could have a better look at the back of her neck. The ghost of the white little scar he was anticipating had suddenly become paired with a raised, red, and angry scar next to her old one, only this one was far newer and deeper.

This was one of his favorite spots on her body. The tiny little scar was a reminder of her strength. He liked to kiss and touch the spot he knew held the miracle that helped keep her alive. Seeing this new wound right next to it made his heart race and his body go numb. "D-did someone cut out your chip?" he asked. Immeasurable guilt started to fill him at the knowledge that someone hurt her while he wasn't there. That someone tried to take something so important. Would her cancer come back?

She turned around quickly and reached up to mirror the centering touch he'd just given her as she cupped his face with her hands, her fingers gently scratching the fine hairs near his ears.

"No. No one tried to cut out my chip," she replied firmly.

"But did they inadvertently do so? What happened?" he asked, falling into his reflexive habit of becoming one-track-minded where Scully's safety was concerned.

"It's still there. I had them x-ray me when I got to the hospital. I promise, I'm okay," she pressed. "I can fill you in on all the cases you missed later, okay?"

There must've been something on his face that made her realize he'd be focused on it until he got a little more assurance than that. With a sigh, she stroked the skin of his cheeks and stated, "I initially had a hard time letting myself trust Doggett so I went on a case alone and some cultists tried to make me a host for their God. I'm not going to go into details right now because it's gross and I'm trying to have sex right now, but Doggett found me and I had to have him cut something out of me because we were running out of time. I promise it's not as bad as it looks."

"Doggett did that to you?" he repeated, the image of the man cutting her burning into his mind.

She rolled her eyes and looked at him pointedly. "I think you missed the part where I said I told him to. He saved my life, Mulder." She moved her hands down to rest on his chest, roaming his muscles with clear appreciation. Then she looked up at him with big eyes while teasingly pouting her lip. "I don't want to talk about Doggett or cases right now. I've missed you so much and I thought about this for months. Please don't make me wait anymore. I promise I'm okay and I'll fill you in on everything later. Just be here with me," she pleaded.

Mulder could never say no to her when she asked like that, so despite his curiosity, he smiled and nodded. They were in no rush, they had plenty of time. He'd ask questions tomorrow.

Tonight was for her.

"Okay," he replied, tucking an errant hair behind her ear.

"Good," she smirked triumphantly, a devilish gleam twinkling in her eye. "I don't want to be the only one half-naked anymore," she demanded.

His hands slid down her body and he smirked when he felt goosebumps arise in their wake. "You're right, you should be fully naked," he replied, tugging on the elastic waistband of her pajama pants. She let him slide the silk shorts down her legs, no underwear much to his delight, and she was visibly shivering in excitement as he palmed her bare hips in his hands as he stood back up.

Not wanting to dismiss her wishes though, he quickly rid himself of his shirt and his sweatpants so they were both standing nude. "Get on the bed," he commanded lowly.

She hummed in appreciation and crawled onto the bed, the roundness of her stomach visible between her thighs as she made her way up to the headboard and her arousal glistening prominently. She was so wet it was already leaking onto her inner thighs and he felt proud to have been the cause. His erection that had weaned when they were talking about her injury had sprung back in full force upon seeing her fully naked again. God, he missed her.

Despite his arousal and excitement, he couldn't help but feel robbed of the opportunity to see these developments occur over time. Mulder wished he could have seen her body slowly change and develop as new life grew inside her. Suddenly he painfully related to her earlier sentiment regarding feeling indignant about the time that had been taken and all the moments he was robbed of. He wanted to hold her hair back when she had morning sickness, he wanted her to jump his bones anytime she wanted because of her hormones, and he wanted to be there every time she had a moment of doubt that told her she was anything other than beautiful so he could tell her how wrong she was.

They'd made love quite a lot in their short time together between her coming to his bed that night he got back from England and his being abducted, but as far as intimate relationships went, it was all still relatively new. He had only just started feeling confident he was proficient in the body and pleasure of Dana Scully. He'd been cataloging every freckle, memorizing every moan and gasp in the hopes of recreating them, and now he felt out of practice. Her body had changed and he was determined tonight to worship her and become reacquainted with her. He wanted to know the intricacies of Dana Scully both inside and out.

Mulder wanted to take his time. Crawling onto the bed after her, he approached her sitting form and kissed her while on his hands and knees. He knew there were going to be many new pregnancy-related changes, but now he was going to look out for any new scars or injuries that happened since they were last together. He just wanted to know so he could start to create a new future. Her skin was pale and delicate, her veins pale and blue underneath her skin like the blue lines on pulpy parchment. He wanted to use his tongue to write odes on her skin, he wanted to fill the spaces between the lines with 'I love you's, pink scrapes of his stubble, hickies left in his mouth's wake — he wanted her body to be a diary of his love. It was his goal to replace the memory of harsh, cruel hands and evil intentions and leave behind nothing but reassurances of his love and affection for her.

He pulled back, enjoying the way her body leaned forward instinctively to keep them connected, and watched as a content expression crossed her face. Her eyes fluttered open and she grinned impishly at him.

"What positions work best for you?" he asked.

"I don't know," she replied in amusement. "I've never had pregnancy sex before."

"We're like virgins," he joked.

"Oh absolutely," she deadpanned, placing a hand on her severely pregnant stomach for emphasis.

Mulder snickered before he maneuvered onto his back, his cock bobbing in the air emphatically. He was adjusting himself when he felt Scully's knee come to nestle against his hip, her other going over him so she was sitting on his lap. Pausing his movements, he watched as she grabbed his erection and brought it closer to herself. However, instead of easing up on her knees and guiding him inside of her like he thought she was doing, she rocked back and forth while pressing his cock against her folds, rubbing his head against her clit with each movement.

"Fuck," he moaned, his hips inadvertently snapping up from pleasure and causing her to moan at the unexpected contact.

She continued her ministrations until her knees had his hips in a death grip and her movements were becoming erratic as her orgasm built. Mulder watched as she lifted herself up, but he pivoted his hips before she could sink onto him.

"Wait," he rasped.

"Mulder," she whined, dragging out his name as she pouted.

The sight amused him, and he nearly gave in. "There's something I need to do first," he explained.

"Do you have to do it right no-"

"Scoot up here and grab the headboard," he instructed.

Her pout quickly turned into a smile and an enthusiastic, "Oh!"

Doing as he instructed, she made her way up his body until she was straddling his face. "It's weird not being able to look down and watch you," she remarked once she braced her hands against the headboard.

Utilizing the way her stomach eclipsed his head underneath her to his advantage, he latched his mouth onto her clit without warning and added suction. "Shit!" she gasped, her body jerking in surprise. He reached his arms around her thighs so she was locked in place as he ran his tongue along her seam. She was so wet the mere contact had already drenched the lower half of his face. Her labia was swollen red from arousal and if her movements a moment ago were any indication, she was close to coming already.

He plunged his tongue inside of her and curved it so he was pressing against her inner wall, alternating between the pointed tip of his tongue and the flat of it when it was relaxed. He licked his lips and savored the taste of her. It was distinguishably Scully, but slightly different, sweeter, than he remembered. Even though his arms were around her thighs, she was still squirming as best she could. Knowing going back to her clit was what was going to send her over the edge, he swirled around it teasingly. Once, twice, then he latched on with suction while flicking the pointed edge of his tongue mercilessly against her clit.

A gasp tore from her lungs and was immediately followed by her panting his name with so much reverence it sounded like a prayer. Mulder felt her thighs start shaking and quivering against him with the power of her orgasm, and he didn't stop until she jerked away from him and placed a hand on his shoulder to signal she was too sensitive.

Scully adjusted herself so she was back in her original position, only stopping once to give him a deep kiss on the mouth. Mulder was too focused on what she was going earlier to notice much more, but now that she was sitting on his lap in the glow of the lamp, he realized her breasts were fuller now. Sitting up without dislodging her, he brought his hands up to cup them, playing with their weight in his hands. Scully's eyes shut in pleasure as her head rolled to her shoulder, leaning forward into his touch.

Mulder bent his head down and flicked his tongue over a pebbled nipple before taking the darkened areola into his mouth and sucking. "Mmm," she moaned, squirming against him in desperation for any contact. His cock was grinding into the flesh of her ass as she ground her clit desperately into his pubic bone.

He let go of one nipple to take a few deep breaths before moving onto the other one to give it the same attention. One hand was resting on the curve of her hip, stabilizing Scully, while the other rubbed her other breast and sternum. Mulder was so focused on playing with her, that he didn't fully register her grab his forearm so she could bring his hand to her face until he felt her lips clamp around his thumb. He felt his cock throb at the feeling of her hot, wet mouth sucking on his thumb.

Mulder released her breast with an audible suction as he looked up at her. If he let himself, he could have come from the look in her eyes alone. Scully kept her gaze even as she swirled her tongue around his thumb lewdly. He playfully bent it in her mouth and watched as her lips opened into a breathy chuckle. Pulling his hand away, he lowered it so he could spread her saliva around both her nipples, blowing a stream of cool air on them to make her shiver. He watched her nipples tighten in front of him before resting his hand on her inner thigh so he could swirl his thumb around her swollen clit.

"I want you," she gasped as she swiveled her hips to compliment his ministrations.

"Like this?" he asked.

"No," she mused. Then with displeasure added, "My knees are starting to hurt."

"Try laying on your side," he suggested, easing himself up as she got off him.

She laid down and faced the wall, presuming he was going to spoon up behind her. "What're you doing?" she asked when she saw him at her knees.

"Face the other way," he replied, straddling her bottom leg while bringing the other to rest against his hip. This way she could lay down on her side and wouldn't have to exert herself as much.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked.

While she was still laying on her side, she was pivoting slightly so she could face him. "Yeah," she replied while rubbing her top leg against his encouragingly.

He reached down and grabbed his shaft, rubbing the tip tauntingly between her folds before slowly easing himself into her. He watched her face to make sure he wasn't hurting her, but all he saw was an expression of content bliss. "You feel so good," she sighed, tilting her hips to give him room to go deeper.

"Jesus, Scully," he groaned in ecstasy as her walls clamped down around him like a vice.

One of her hands went to one of his legs and she began grasping at him, seemingly just wanting to touch him in any way she could. "More," she demanded.

As much as he wanted this to last for as long as possible, he was in no condition to deny her. He began pumping his hips against her, feeling her walls stretch to accommodate him as he slid in and out of her. Her breasts were bouncing tantalizingly and he watched as she brought her other hand up and began cupping herself, moving from one breast to the other haphazardly.

Leaning forward slightly, Mulder let his hand roam across her stomach, feeling the way it moved with each thrust. It was an odd experience, but insanely erotic at the same time. He repositioned his knees a little bit so he could angle his hips to try to hit her g-spot. Mulder had been pretty proficient at finding it before, but he felt his spongy head rubbing against the grooves of her front walls and he hadn't heard her telltale gasp yet.

He rocked his hips a little differently, trying a little farther back, and he saw her body tense as her breathing hitched. There it is. "Please don't stop," she begged breathlessly, her hands moving to grab fistfuls of the bedspread. He picked up the pace, hitting the same area repeatedly with the tip of his cock while sounds of pleasure flew out of her mouth mindlessly. "Yes. Need. Please. So good. More. Mulder," variants of those words at different volumes and tones with intermittent moans.

He felt a coil start to tighten in his abdomen and he knew he was close. Scully was too as she reached around her stomach to rub her clit with her middle and ring fingers. "That's it, Scully," he praised, locking eyes with her while their mutual bliss grew.

With one quick snap of his hips, he watched as her eyes widened and her jaw dropped open as her body trembled with her orgasm. It was clearly taking a conscious amount of effort to keep her eyes open, and he was grateful for it because seeing her come undone was the single most beautiful and erotic thing he'd ever seen. The visual combined with the feeling of her spasming around him caused him to come right after her.

Scully stroked his hair as he caught his breath. "You mean so much to me," she mused out loud, her hand moving to cup his jaw while her thumbs carefully brushed over the scars on his face.

He still felt self-conscious about them, even though he knew it was silly and Scully herself said they'd heal soon. Trying to ignore his insecurities, he bent down to kiss her before he moved so that he was spooning her from behind, pulling a light blanket over them as he put his arm around her.

"Thank you, Scully," he murmured into her hair.

"I think you're the one who deserves the thank you. My knees would have given out a long time ago," she replied, placing her hand on top of the hand he'd placed on her stomach.

He chuckled lightly before shaking his head. "I wasn't talking about that, though I think you deserve some appreciation anyway," he remarked, kissing the crown of her head.

"Then what for?" she yawned.

"Everything," he stated simply.

He felt her about to say something but he interrupted her with a gasp when he felt something press against his palm. "Did you feel that?" she replied excitedly, her hand pressing into his and moving it slightly.

"Was that-"

"The baby kicked," she replied, the smile audible in her tone.

"Did it hurt?" he asked, it felt pretty strong against his hand, he couldn't imagine the internal version of that.

"Not really. It's oddly comforting unless it's on my bladder," she replied. "It's probably going to happen again."

They both laid in silence together for a moment in anticipation, only to simultaneously disrupt it with excited laughs when the baby kicked again. "That's amazing," he replied in awe.

"It really is," she mused in kind.

"Do you know what it reminds me of?" he asked.

"You better not say-"

"- the movie Alien," he replied, smiling when he heard her amused sigh.

He rubbed her stomach gently, both to touch Scully and to start trying to connect with the kid. "Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?" he asked.

"Maybe, but I won't tell," she lilted cheekily.

"That's evil, Scully," he tsked, nudging her lightly with his knee. "I guess it doesn't matter. No matter what, the minute their little arms can hold up a bat I'm going to teach them how to play ball. You can help me since you've received top-notch training from the best," he declared.

Instead of responding, she turned so that she could look at him, and he realized she was crying. "Hey, hey. It's okay," he stammered, moving to stroke her hair and wipe away her tears.

"I'm so relieved you're here. I missed you so much and I was so scared I was going to have to do this alone," she sobbed, clutching his hand like he was going to disappear again if she let go.

Mulder felt his throat start to tighten in sympathy and he held her tighter while kissing her temple. He'd suffered so much when he was taken, but so had she. They were only ever going to get through the emotional scars if they were together. "I'm here, Scully, I promise. I'm yours forever."

#x files #x files fanfic #msr #mulder #scully #fanfic #pregnancy #three words #angst

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