#ok not a ~proper~ still life but i DID drag a bowl over a table cloth to try and figure out how itd drag | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jiangchengrights · 4 years

Text

and i want to be wanted more than anything else in the world

A/N:

Based on this post

Title from “Homosexuality” by Frank O’Hara

Also available on AO3!

Marriage, Lan Wangji knows, is not about love.

He’d known this, he’d always know this; Uncle had always been very clear on that. Marriage is about duty. Marriage is about allying Gusu Lan with another sect. It is Lan Wangji’s job in this to ensure profitable trade for the disciples of the Cloud Recesses. It might even, one day, require him to move away from his home and into that of his spouse. His father had married for love and look where that had gotten him; Lan Wangji would never succumb to the same fate. So no, marriage was not about liking his spouse and being liked in return.

Though he had steeled his heart to this fate, there is a memory that he holds deeper somewhere that thumps quiet and soft with every beat of his heart. He usually tries not to think about it; it makes an old hurt flash deep in his bones, throbbing from his toes all the way up his spine to settle like a leech at the back of his neck.

He remembers kneeling at his mother’s side, small back straight, resisting the urge to lean fully into her. She had seen him though, she always had even when he hid behind a solemn face and sparse words. And so with a smile and a fond shake of her head, she had gathered him up into her arms, petting the hair out of his face and said, “My love, my light, you are still my baby.”

He hadn’t laughed exactly, but he’d smiled up at her, the corners of his lips tilting up just enough to ball his cheeks. But she had seen it, of course she’d seen it, and she’d rubbed her thumbs gently against his face, leaning down close enough that her lips brushed against his skin when she whispered, “No matter what happens outside of this house, you are loved.”

And then she’d folded him up in her arms as if he actually was a baby, resting his head on her elbow and guiding her arm beneath the hollows of his knees and swug him around sharply, teasing, enough to have him squirming away and she sang, “My baby, my baby, my baby.”

Leaning forward to grab a slice of loquat, cut perfectly to fit the shape of a small, child sized mouth, from the bowl placed gently on the table in front of them, she’d then brought it up to Lan Wangji’s mouth and said, “Open up, darling.”

And he had because she was his mother and he’d do anything for her. So he’d let her feed him tiny chunks of loquats and pet his face until finally she’d said, almost too softly, “I really hope you find someone who loves you a lot one day.”

He’d looked up at her and then relaxed into her arms even more, settling in her embrace and asked, “Enough to cut up loquats for me?”

Her laugh still sounds like music to him when he remembers it; loud and gentle all at the same time, bathing him in a joy he had yet to know, and she had laughed then, leaning down to nuzzle her nose against his and said, “Yes, baobao, exactly.”

By the time he’d wormed his way out of her embrace, she’d turned her wrath onto Lan Xichen, dragging him closer to her and laugh-crying, “My bigger baby!”

He wishes now he could remember more of that day instead of just that flash moment. Had she been sad when they left that night? Where was that night, in the span of time? How much longer did he have with her, even if he didn’t know yet that there would ever be an end in sight?

And what had she meant when she wished that for him? She had to have known what his life was destined to look like, she had to have known what kind of marriage was in his fate. And yet she wished it anyways, giving a voice to his greatest yearning, to his deepest secret. Hadn’t she known that was impossible?

Hadn’t she known it would haunt him?

There was never really any hope of her wish for him coming true.

Even when Lan Wangji was small, he’d been described as cold, frigid; his classmates had been scared of him whether it be because of his skill, his quiet, somber face, or his dedication. His all encompassing grief after his mother’s death had only served to strengthen that.

For them his kneeling, and continued kneeling, at her door had not been an act of love. They could not see the desperate pain in his eyes, the hands that shook, crying out to be held just one last time. They thought it had been a display of duty, of rigidity, of a soulless creature acting as they were meant to.

He remembers once, being fourteen and kneeling outside of his mother’s door. By then, he knew she would not return, would never return, and though his grief had subsided, was now just a throb in his throat instead of cold fire in his veins, he still owed her this. His respect, his sadness, his yearning; he owed her this and so he kneeled in her garden, muscles frozen and lips blue until Lan Xichen had hurried over, crouching in front of him and muttering one quiet, desperate, “Didi.”

He’d stood then and allowed Lan Xichen to walk him to the Jingshi, never once leaning on his brother but glad for his steady presence next to him all the same. His steps never faltered, expression never wavered, even when he heard his fellow disciples whisper his name.

Gossip is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses, of course, but some things cannot be stopped in their entirety and this is one of them. And Lan Wangji knows, even if they would never believe it, how to pick his battles. So when he hears his name called out in the shape of chapped lips and fogged breath he doesn’t flinch.

“There goes the Twin Jades,” one of the voices whispers into the moonlight.

“Jade?” the other snorts back and responds more hushed, “Maybe Lan Xichen, but the younger one? Look at him, he’s made of ice.”

“Brr,” one of them chuckles, pretending to shiver, “So cold even the snow can’t touch him.”

“I feel sorry for whatever poor girl ends up leashed to him,” the second voice continues, “You’d never see a colder marriage bed.”

Lan Wangji’s breath hitches minutely, but his strides never stutter. When he glances over from the corner of his eye, he can see the serene and utterly fake smile plastered across his face, the one he wears at meetings and particularly detestful events (and sometimes, just sometimes, when talking to Uncle), so he knows his brother heard as well as he did.

Shame courses through him and he blames the fire under his skin on the cold wind that blows around them. There, that night, he vows never to leash someone to him if he can help it and if he cannot he will remain firm but open and let them have their happiness without any regards or hindrance from himself. He will not be his father.

When they make it to his door, Lan Xichen opens his mouth to say something but Lan Wangji finds he does not have ears to hear it. He bows quickly but perfectly and says, “Goodnight, Brother,” and makes peace with that which he should have years ago.

His mother was wrong.

Wei Wuxian bounces into his life like a bomb.

He yells at Lan Wangji from across rooms and runs to catch up with him on busy walkways and laughs loud enough to hurt Lan Wangji’s ears. He throws loquats through the air and brings pornography into the library and never remembers to bow until someone else does before him and-

And.

And he gives Lan Wangji bunnies and sings to them in silly voices and says things like, “You’re so good, Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, you’re the best!”

The worst part is, Lan Wangji is pretty sure he means it.

~*-*~

“Have you ever thought about getting married?” Wei Wuxian asks him from where he’s lounging ill-mannered next to Lan Wangji.

“I have!” he continues without waiting for Lan Wangji to reply, leg jittering up and down, “She’ll be the prettiest girl out there, I just know it.”

“Mm.”

“And she’ll be an excellent cook and be friends with Shijie,” he continues, lolling his head to the side and shooting a lazy grin Lan Wangji’s way, “Obviously I can’t marry anyone my Shijie doesn’t like.

“And I’ll marry for love!” he laughs this time, one of his feet coming very close to nudging at Lan Wangji’s thigh before he moves away steadily, sending a half glare Wei Wuxian’s way, “None of this arranged stuff, uh uh, no good, I’ve seen what it does to people.

“I’ll only marry when someone stops my heart and then restarts it, when they smile and I melt, when their touch is all the warmth I need,” he laughs at the frown on Lan Wangji’s face and tries to kick him again, “Come on, Lan Zhan, I know I’m being mushy but let a guy live, will you?”

Love, Lan Wangji wants to say, does not always solve your problems.

But he says nothing and mourns the loss of his presence when Wei Wuxian stands, brushing off his already dirtied robes.

“Hey, Lan Zhan?” he asks, lip curling up wryly on one side, leaning in close as he whispers, “I think you’re pretty too.”

“Wei Ying!”

Wei Wuxian’s laughter can be heard in the courtyard outside as he flees the library pavilion.

“Quick, Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian yells and then Lan Wangji is ripping off his headband and tying it around their wrists, joining them together to stop Lan Yi’s guqin from hurting the smaller man further.

It doesn’t mean anything, Lan Wangji thinks to himself even as the handfasting takes place, binding them together, I will not leash him to me.

It’s enough to join them together, not a marriage persay, not a proper one at least, but a promise. I will protect you, the ribbon says for Lan Wangji where it rests, cradled around Wei Wuxian’s wrist, because you are my beloved.

It holds long enough to speak to Lan Yi and spit them out again and as they lay in a heap on the earthen floor, Wei Wuxian smiles down at him, lopsided, bunny teeth in full effect and yanks they’re tied wrists up to see, laughing out, “We’re connected now!”

It has Lan Wangji shoving him off, a cold chill running up his spine that has absolutely nothing to do with the ice water he’d come from, making quick work of yanking the headband off Wei Wuxian’s wrist and cradling it morosely to his chest.

“Not together,” he absolutely does not pout.

“Aw, Lan Zhan, it’s okay,” Wei Wuxian waves off, standing up and offering his hand down to Lan Wangji, “It’s just a headband.”

The relief he feels in knowing Wei Wuxian doesn’t know the meaning of what just happened is only half present, mixed with a disappointed, a longing, so intense it has his breath stuttering.

When he stands, he does so gracefully, carefully untying the headband from his own wrist to return it to its rightful place around his forehead.

He does not accept Wei Wuxian’s hand.

“I’ll have to leave you here bunnies,” Lan Wangji can hear Wei Wuxian’s voice, loud as ever, through the trees, “And you have a very important job!”

At this Lan Wangji raises an eyebrow, wondering what possible job Wei Wuxian could have for a rabbit, so instead of making his presence known he listens on as Wei Wuxian whispers conspiratorially, “Without me here to keep him company, I suspect Lan Zhan will get very lonely.”

He’s right, is the thing. Lan Wangji is sure that’s why the statement sends a jolt through him.

“Can you keep him company, little rabbits? Make sure he feels loved,” Wei Wuxian says, holding up a bunny to his face to look it in the eye, “Give him lots of nose kisses for me, okay?”

Lan Wangji turns around and leaves before he can do something stupid like grab Wei Wuxian’s hand or ask him to stay.

“Let me carry you!” Wei Wuxian says to him so earnestly that Lan Wangji is tempted to believe he actually means it. Though his leg pains him, he limps with every step, he steadfastly ignores this request, stopping only to send a familiar glare Wei Wuxian’s way.

The cave they’re stuck in now is so much darker than the previous one. The monster has been slain and Lan Wangji has spit out the bad blood that haunted his veins but all is not well. There is no cold here like there was in Lan Yi’s dwelling, a humid air seeps up from the water below, making Lan Wangji sweat in his robes.

And still, curled up next to him Wei Wuxian’s shivers and moans. His skin is so hot, Lan Wangji can feel it in the air between them and yet the man still moans, “I’m freezing, Lan Zhan, why is it so cold?”

Lan Wangji does not know the answer to this so he gathers Wei Wuxian into his arms, hands stroking slow down his back the way his mother had once done for him and said, “It’s okay, Wei Ying. We are here together.”

And then he hums him a song meant for their ears only and wishes him a peaceful sleep.

There is barely restrained fury in Wei Wuxian’s eyes when he steps forward and says, “Lan Zhan, do me a favor.”

“What’s the matter?” Lan Wangji asks, taking his eyes off the mockery in front of them to rest on Wei Wuxian, changed, sharper, but still Wei Ying.

“Let me borrow your headband,” the man in front of him says, though he doesn’t dignify it with a response. He can’t.

Because he wants to say yes.

Yes, yes, take my headband, Wei Ying, know what it means, Wei Ying, Wei Ying, Wei Ying.

Wei Wuxian is unperturbed without the headband though, he merely steps forward and unwraps his own sleeve, tying it around his eyes. His arrows are shot with the blindfold still held securely in place, each one finding home in the wooden target instead of the Wen Quishan prisoners below.

He plays it off with a smirk and a smile, a grand display of skill, but Lan Wangji can see him. Can see the fury in his gate, can see his goal; even now, in the face of people he does not know, he protects them all, bearing the brunt of ridicule on his own shoulders.

Lan Wangji finds him later, in the mouth of the woods with no one else around. The blindfold still plays around his eyes and a glance around confirms there is no one here but the two of them and Lan Wangji finds his own self control rapidly draining.

I will not leash him to me.

But Wei Wuxian’s eyes are closed and he will never know, so he steps forward, ignoring Wei Wuxian’s “who’s there?” and gently presses the man against the nearest tree, lips finding Wei Wuxian’s fast, pliant and warm. He’s there long enough to swipe his tongue across Wei Wuxian’s bottom lip, to taste the half smile that lingers there and then he’s gone just as quick deeper into the woods, completely missing Wei Wuxian’s little grabby hands and whispered, “Mm, Lan Zhan.”

“This is my A-Yuan,” Wei Wuxian says, laughing at the confused frown on Lan Wangji’s face, only adding to it when he says, “I birthed him from my own body.”

He knows Wei Wuxian is lying obviously but he accepts the child all the same, lets him cling to his leg, buys him play swords and grass butterflies and relishes in watching him play with Wei Wuxian.

Even now, Wei Wuxian grins so easily, so beautifully, it astounds him, stops Lan Wangji in his place and leaves him breathless.

“Ah, A-Yuan, don’t bother Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian complains when A-Yuan climbs into Lan Wangji’s lap uninvited, giving Lan Wangji a half embarrassed look as if Lan Wangji might really be bothered by this.

Instead he snakes his arms around the child’s waist, ignoring how right it feels, how easy it would be to imagine them at a family lunch and says, “He is fine.”

A-Yuan holds a grass butterfly up to Lan Wangji’s face and says in an obnoxiously high voice, “I like you” and then uses the butterfly to kiss Lan Wangji on the cheek, snorting with laughter as he does so.

“See?” Lan Wangji nods, hoisting the boy further into his lap, “Everything is fine.”

Wei Wuxian doesn’t say anything for once, just shakes his head and gifts Lan Wangji with the softest smile he’s ever seen.

“Wei Ying,” he pleads from the other side of the roof, “It’s time to stop fighting.”

But Wei Wuxian doesn’t stop; he plays his flute and dances across the field and ignores Lan Wangji as he skitters around him, stopping every sword meant for Wei Wuxian from finding home.

Lan Wangji fights and fights and pleads and prays with anyone listening to stop this, to help Wei Wuxian. Mother, he screams in his mind, afraid to look at the sky where he knows she must be watching over this, Mother, I love him, help, help-

But there is no help. Wei Wuxian smiles up at him with blood stained teeth and says, “Lan Zhan, let go, it’s time to let me go,” and he’s slippery and heavy but Lan Wangji won’t, he won’t-

The decision is made for him.

Jiang Cheng’s blade digs into the mountain next to Wei Wuxian’s hand, hard enough to crack the Earth around them. When it breaks and falls, Lan Wangji knows he will fall with it. He makes his peace with it in the millisecond it takes for him to realize this. But Wei Wuxian, kind and beautiful Wei Wuxian rips his hand away hard enough to startle Lan Wangji backwards and falls alone.

Lan Wangji watches, yells his name and clenches his fists at his side, looks around at the chaos around him and knows he’s been saved.

He looks at the space where Wei Wuxian had been, now lost in darkness and destruction and rubble and thinks, I’ve been saved, but for what, Wei Ying? For what?

The child is heavy in his arms as he carries him up the steps to the Cloud Recesses. He’s heavy and sick and too warm and Lan Wangji vows with everything in his being to make this boy better, to make him happy. He is Wei Wuxian’s child but Wei Wuxian is gone, the Wen clan are gone, and so Lan Wangji will protect him the way he failed to protect Wei Wuxian.

“Rich gege,” the boy mumbles into his shoulder, little hands making fists in his robes. Lan Wangji uses one hand to support him, the other to pet down the boy’s back, to comb through his hair.

“It will be okay,” he says into the air, hoping one of them will believe it.

A-Yuan, Lan Sizhui, keeps him company while he recovers. He lays flat on his stomach, ignores the ache in his chest, the sting of his back and smiles ever so slightly when Sizhui finger dances up his arm, careful to steer clear of his wounds.

“Will you be okay, Rich gege?” he asks, laying down on the bed next to Lan Wangji and kicking his feet in the air.

“Of course.”

Sizhui rolls over on his stomach, resting his chin on his hands and kicking his feet out behind him, “Okay, enough to take care of A-Yuan?”

“Will always take care of A-Yuan,” Lan Wangji says and tries not to think about how nice it would have been to have help with this, to take care of the boy with Wei Wuxian, to do this together.

“Of course he’s going to take care of you,” Lan Xichen says as he walks inside the Jingshi, carrying medicine and bandages in his arms, “But remember what we promised? You’re Sizhui now.”

“Yes,” A-Yuan nods, head bouncing seriously as he does, “I promise, BoBo.”

The look of delight on Lan Xichen’s face is almost enough to forget the loss in the room.

Almost.

Lan Wangji presents Lan Sizhui as his son to the elders. He looks at his brother and thinks, Look I have a son, I have an heir, I have brought an heir for the Cloud Recesses, I have done my part, marrying me off will bring you nothing now.

He doesn’t know what Lan Xichen is thinking, but he smiles a small, sincere smile as he always does when he’s looking at his younger brother. He nods and says, “Seeing as I have no children to call my own, I accept Lan Sizhui as the resident heir to the Cloud Recesses.”

He bows perfectly to the child who stands in front of him and delights when the child bows back.

Sometimes, not often but often enough, A-Yuan has nightmares so violent they leave him trembling in his bed. The first time it had happened, he’d been too scared to get up from his cot, only feet away from Lan Wangji’s own, so he’d simply called out into the night through chattering teeth, “Baba? Baba!”

And Lan Wangji had been there to scoop him up and carry him back to his bed, holding him tight in his arms, tight enough to will the shivers away and had said, “It’s okay, I am here.”

He holds A-Yuan against his body as his mother had once held him and begins to tell him the story of Wei Ying. Not the Yiling Patriarch or even Wei Wuxian. He tells him about a boy scared of dogs, a boy who loved his brother and sister with his whole being, who held everything close to his heart, and laughed sun rays into existence.

A-Yuan no longer remembers Xian gege, which is probably for the best. But he knows Wei Ying.

“Where did he go?” he asks one night, leaning against Lan Wangji even though he is now far too big for this; Lan Wangji wraps an arm around him anyways, pulls him in closer.

“He had to go away,” Lan Wangji replies, looking out at the full moon, “But he would’ve loved you.”

Lan Sizhui settles into sleep for the night and Lan Wangji only feels marginally bad for changing the would’ve from did.

He did love you, A-Yuan, Lan Wangji thinks, but knows enough not to say, And from wherever he is now, he loves you still.

Uncle brings up the topic of marriage once.

He reminds Lan Wangji of his duty. Reminds him of what he should be doing. But throughout the entirety of the conversation, Lan Wangji is reminded of the hole in his heart held steadily in the shape of doe eyes and a smiling mouth and a little mole. He knows he will never be able to look anyone else in the eye and call them husband or wife. There is no point.

“I have a son,” he says instead, meeting his Uncle’s eyes as he shoots down his plan, “I have brought an heir to the Cloud Recesses. I have stood for this sect and I have stood against it and paid my dues. I have nothing more to give.”

He turns away before Uncle can respond without so much as a bow. He lets his robes ripple in the air as he storms away. He wishes he had been nicer to Wei Wuxian when they were kids, when they were happy, wishes he’d let the boy hover in close.

Uncle is not always right.

He knows it's him the second he hears the song.

Wei Wuxian, Wei Ying, stands in a clearing playing their song to control Wen Ning. He wears black robes and a red hair ribbon and though his stature is different Lan Wangji knows it is him and his heart calls out to get closer, to listen more.

Wei Wuxian hides from him but that is okay. He smiles at the man’s antics, pretending to be wild to keep up with appearances, Lan Wangji lets him do whatever he wants this time, he’ll let him do anything.

But when they are alone, he pulls the mask off with gentle fingers and caresses this face, a new face to house the same soul, and says, “Wei Ying, you are back.”

And just like that Wei Wuxian’s eyes crinkle damp with tears, fingers twisting hard into the fabric of Lan Wangji’s robes as he cries, too soft to have ever come from his mouth, “Lan Zhan.”

The events at the temple are – a mess to say the least and the bolt of fear that had run a course through Lan Wangji when Jin Guangyao had held Wei Wuxian by the throat still has him feeling shaky, lost, the idea of losing Wei Wuxian again to the same cause too much for him to handle.

But he stands here now, berating their son with a smile on his face, hip cocked out to the side.

“You see that pit? You see it?” Wei Wuxian laughs, trying despite himself to look stern. Lan Sizhui’s head whips back and forth between the pit and Wei Wuxian’s pointer finger, waving around wildly in front of him. But Lan Wangji can see the grin growing on the boy’s face as he realizes what is to come next, just in time for Wei Wuxian to say, “I’ll bury you again, my little radish, don’t think I won’t!”

Lan Sizhui smiles and laughs a half sob and throws himself down against Wei Wuxian’s leg, clinging on like he’s afraid the man will disappear. Wei Wuxian steadies himself in this new hold and then reaches a hand down to comb through the top of Sizhui’s hair and says, “Oh, you silly boy. I’ve missed you so much, my A-Yuan.”

“Missed you too, Xian gege,” Lan Sizhui mumbles into the fabric of Wei Wuxian’s leg, one hand reaching up blindly to hold onto Wei Wuxian’s own. His family stands in front of him, whole and laughing and happy.

Lan Wangji has never felt more content.

It doesn’t end there, as much as Lan Wangji may wish it did.

He accepts the position of Chief Cultivator and Sect Leader in the interim that Lan Xichen remains in seclusion. He sends Sizhui, his son, off with Wen Ning to reclaim his roots. And Wei Wuxian...

Wei Wuxian looks at him one day, restless as ever, and says, “Well I should really get going.”

“Going?” Lan Wangji had asked, one eyebrow raising in question.

Wei Wuxian plays with his own fingers, bites his lip, and then looks up at Lan Wangji with a grin, “I’m on my second life, Lan Zhan! I’ve got to see the world. It’s not like I have anything holding me here, right?”

He wants to pull Wei Wuxian into his chest and hold him there for safekeeping. He wants to wrap Wei Wuxian up in all of his best blankets and say, Remember when I held you in the cave? I can take care of you now, better than I could then. He wants to comb Wei Wuxian’s hair and thread soothing oils into it and say, See? You deserve gentleness, let me be soft with you, let me, let me.

But he sees the antsy way Wei Wuxian taps his foot, the way his eyes keep flickering to the door like he’s ready to leave at this very instant. All of his belongings are already packed and lay neatly, ready to be taken up at any time. The only thing left is Lil Apple but she never needed much and Lan Wangji knows if he really wanted, Wei Wuxian could be out and into the world in half a day, Cloud Recesses a forgotten dream.

I will not be a leash, I will not be a leash, I will not be a leash.

“If you wish to see the world,” Lan Wangji says, keeping his words careful. He does not lie but he neither spills the truth, “Then nothing would please me more than to see you off. All I’ve ever wanted for you was your happiness.”

“Ah, Lan Zhan, so nice,” Wei Wuxian laughs and falls onto the bed behind him, “You really are the best.”

“Mn.”

“I’ll leave tomorrow morning,” Wei Wuxian says to the ceiling, “Get out of your hair for once.”

“Mn,” he says again and bites his tongue to keep the don’t go at bay.

When Wei Wuxian is gone the world is quiet again.

Lan Wangji used to relish in silence, used to bathe in it. Now the neverending quiet is suffocating, it itches his skin and leaves him irritable. He navigates political meetings and handles his sect and waits and waits and waits for news from his son and from Wei Wuxian.

The last he’d heard from either of them, Lan Sizhui had been happy in Yiling with Wen Ning and Wei Wuxian had been enjoying tea (though from the looks of the water stained letter and sloppily painted characters, they had been drinking more than just tea) with Nie Huiasang.

He tries to tell himself not to let it bother him. Wei Wuxian had left to see the world, to explore. And if he wanted to explore places he’d already been and spend his time with people he already knew then that was. That was fine.

He just wishes, maybe one day, he might want to explore Cloud Recesses and spend his time with Lan Wangji again.

The monotony of it all is only broken when Lan Xichen comes out of seclusion.

Lan Wangji is proud to say he is relieved Lan Xichen is out of seclusion and feeling okay with the world again; he is ashamed to say he is relieved he does not have to deal with sect duties anymore.

Lan Xichen’s first act as returning Sect Leader is to pull Lan Wangji into the Hanshi for a meeting.

“I think,” his brother starts, sucking his tongue to the roof of his mouth, “It is time for you to get married.”

Lan Wangji is quiet for too long; shocked mostly, the rest filled with utter defiance even if this is an order from his beloved brother. His silence, though, is apparently enough to encourage Lan Xichen to continue as he pours tea for the both of them.

“I want to create an alliance with Yunmeng Jiang,” Lan Xichen smiles up at him, looking pointedly at the seat across from him, waiting for Lan Wangji to sit. He does, again shocked, “What better way than through a marriage?”

There is a brief and horrific moment where Lan Wangji genuinely believes his brother plans to marry him off to Jiang Cheng. He will not, he cannot even entertain this, he would defect before he allowed that to take place. But surely Lan Xichen would know this, would never marry him off to that grape of a man.

“I, I cannot,” he begins and then stops himself with the shake of his head, “Brother, have I not given enough?”

Lan Xichen just smiles at him, gentle and fond, and continues on like he hadn’t heard a word, “I’ve already written to them, we are to begin arranging the ceremony soon.”

Then with an edge of annoyance Lan Wangji so rarely sees on his brother he says, “Though there are considerable debates as to where the ceremony should take place.”

“Brother,” Lan Wangji says again, desperate.

“There is a letter which should answer all your concerns waiting for you in the Jingshi,” Lan Xichen explains, “It will address the terms, what is expected of you and the like. You’re free to go look at it whenever you please.”

Lan Wangji leaves without another word and makes his way to his home throat closed entirely and hands shaking. He doesn’t want this but if the talks have already begun there is no turning back. The only thing left for him to do is leave. But go where?

He’s lost in thought when he enters the Jingshi; he blames this on why he doesn’t immediately notice another presence in his home. But when he takes a breath and opens his eyes, there stands the man he’s been longing to see, smiling that little real smile he only keeps for special occasions, eyes already watering.

“I considered writing a letter,” Wei Wuxian says, keeping his eyes focused on Lan Wangji, “But I thought it would be more effective in person.”

“Wei Ying.”

There is a beat of silence, it lasts one heartbeat, two, three, four–and then they are both moving, meeting in the middle as they slam into each other. Lan Wangji’s arms go around Wei Wuxian’s waist in an instant, holding firm, tight, too tight, he tells himself to calm down but he can’t, Wei Wuxian is here. It seems the feeling has overcome Wei Wuxian as well, if the way his fingers alternate between bruising Lan Wangji’s shoulders and yanking his hair to pull him in even closer is anything to go by. Lan Wangji doesn’t complain.

“Did you talk to Xichen gege, Lan Zhan, did you agree, did you,” Wei Wuxian is crying into his neck, words coming out rapid fire, “Will you marry me, Lan Zhan? I was gone but I wasn’t because I left myself here with you, you’re the most important part of me, I love you, I love, I promise to love you forever, let me take care of you, Lan Zhan, let me hold you, I’ll tell you everyday, please say yes.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji cries, somehow dragging him in even closer, face darting over the other man’s, pressing his lips and nose against every patch of skin he can reach, “Wei Ying, yes.”

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian wails as if he’s just said something monumental, which he supposes he has, “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, I had a whole speech, it was so romantic, I promise. But then you came in and you looked upset and I missed you, I missed you so much, it was terrible without you and I didn’t know if you’d want me back, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, I’m so glad you said yes, I want to wake up with you everyday, I want to be yours, I want to be yours-”

“You are mine, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan interrupts Wei Wuxian’s babbling, “And I am yours. I do not need romance as long as I have Wei Ying.”

“Lan Zhan!” he cries, pulling back to smile blearily at the man in front of him, “Be careful with your Wei Ying, his heart can’t take it!”

“I know this heart,” Lan Zhan says, worming a hand up between them to rest over Wei Wuxian’s chest, “I know you can handle it.”

“I can’t wait to see you in red,” Wei Wuxian whispers, when he’s finally calmed down, looking up at Lan Wangji with the brightest smile he’s ever seen.

“And I you, Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian is still in red where he sits across from Lan Wangji in their shared boat. To be fair, Lan Wangji himself is still adorned in wedding colors as well, having just snuck out of his own reception hosted lavishly, much to the chagrin of one Lan Xichen, in Lotus Pier.

Wei Wuxian is talking, babbling happy nonsense that Lan Wangji listens to with one ear. He can’t stop watching the other man, the delicate twists in his hair, the way he keeps scrunching his nose and laughing big, like he’s trying to give all his joy and hopes to Lan Wangji. They share them now, afterall.

“Lan Zhan, while we’re here you have to let me,” Wei Wuxian begins, already rolling up his sleeve and grinning mischievously, “I know you don’t like stealing, but really stealing from Jiang Cheng, it’s nothing. Besides, he insisted we have the wedding here, really it’s his fault if you think about it.”

Before Lan Wangji has the chance to reply, Wei Wuxian is already half launching over the side of the boat, arm digging out in search of the best lotus pods. He inspects them carefully, placing some on the floor of the boat, tossing others back out into the lake.

This surprises Lan Wangji not, Wei Wuxian loves lotus seeds and he’d fully expected his husband to indulge while they were here. He watches on fondly as Wei Wuxian curses and resolutely doesn't notice the growing mud-cased mess that is his wedding sleeve. Lan Wangji does not feel bad; the robes are beautiful, yes, but they are for Wei Wuxian and Wei Wuxian alone to enjoy himself in on the day he marries. Even if that means fishing around in muddy water in them.

Wei Wuxian continues to chatter, all the while making quick work of peeling seeds. When he has a neat and sizable pile, he looks up at Lan Wangji with a smile so big it dimples his cheeks and says, “Lan Zhan! Hold out your hand!”

“These are,” Lan Zhan begins, confused but holding out his hand all the same, allowing each of the seeds, carefully peeled and ready to be eaten to fall into the palm of his hand, “Not for Wei Ying?”

“Oh, I’ll peel some for me, don’t worry,” Wei Wuxian waves away, now crawling across the boat to seat himself in Lan Wangji’s lap. His head lolls on Lan Wangji’s shoulder and he smiles up at the man, leaning forward to kiss the underside of his jaw, “But I wanted my Lan Zhan to have some too. I promised you, didn’t I? All those years ago, I swore if you came to Lotus Pier with me I’d pick the best seeds just for you.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says, suddenly feeling choked in a good way, a happy way.

Wei Wuxian just smiles at him and pats his jaw lightly, “Eat your seeds, Husband.”

Lan Wangji does, crunching down on a seed, leaning forward to press an upside down kiss to the corner of Wei Wuxian’s mouth, whispering, “My mother would have loved you.”

“Lan, Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian asks, eyes big and doey as he keeps watch.

“This was all she ever wanted for me,” Lan Wangji explains, “She told me once, she wanted me to find someone who loves me very much. Enough to peel my seeds for me.”

“That’s a noble wish,” Wei Wuxian sighs, smile soft and warm as he pulls Lan Wangji down to kiss him again, “I promise to peel your seeds everyday. I promise to love you that much and more.”

There is mist rising from the water around, climbing over their boat to cover them like a blanket. The moon shines bright overhead and maybe they should be cold, with only wedding robes and the night sky around them but Lan Wangji has never felt warmer. He could stay like this forever; with Wei Ying in his arms, beautiful in red, the moon watching over them and seeds that taste like love in his mouth.

He thinks maybe, wherever his mom is, she’s smiling down on them.

Coda:

“You thought what?” Wei Wuxian laughs, rolling around in Lan Wangji’s lap so raucously the boat tips precariously with him.

“It did not, you had been gone so long,” Lan Wangji tries to explain himself, “I did not wish to presume you would ever...have me.”

“Oh, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says, still laughing only softer now. He reaches one hand up to cradle Lan Wangji’s face, eye shining when he says, “Wait till I tell Jiang Cheng you thought you were to be married.”

“Please do not.”

“Could you imagine?” Wei Wuxian asks, pressing his laughs into the pit of Lan Wangji’s stomach, “What a marriage that would be.”

“I’d rather not,” Lan Wangji replies, rolling Wei Wuxian over and climbing on top of him, “Can only imagine one marriage, will only marry Wei Ying, only want Wei Ying.”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian asks, a grin on his face and voice low, fingers stroking gently down Lan Wangji’s jaw, “A marriage bed doesn’t have to strictly be a bed does it?”

“Nn.”

#wangxian #lan zhan #lan wangji #wei wuxian #wei ying #lan sizhui #lan yuan #wen yuan #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #fic #my writing #jiangchengrights

88 notes · View notes

thevelvetseries · 4 years

Text

I’ll Stay

Summary : Isabela is a foster child who has had a hard life. She has looked after her two younger siblings Antionette and Mila from a very young age and they have been moved around to many different foster homes until they come to their latest house. Her 2 little sisters warm up to the Ackles faster than Isabela. All she is looking for is a place to keep her siblings safe.

Pairing : Jensen Ackles x Foster Daughter Reader / Danneel Ackles x Foster Daughter Reader / Isabela Gomez OFC (AGE 16) / Antionette Gomez OFC (AGE 5) / Mila Gomez (AGE 8)

Warnings : Fluff, Angst

A/N : Today I watched a movie called Instant Family and it just got me in my feelings and I really wanted to write a little story like the one the movie presented. Also the song by Isabela Merced – I’ll Stay that was played out the end of the movie really inspired me as well.

Main Masterlist

Me and my two sister were currently sitting in the back of our social workers car being driver all the way across town to live with our new foster family. Our social worker always made sure that if someone wanted to foster one of us she would make sure they knew they had to foster all of us as we came together and didn’t want to be split up. I first started taking care of my younger siblings when I was around 12 years old when my mum disappeared for nearly two weeks. I just woke up one day and she was nowhere to be found. I made sure I got them both feed and washed and made sure they were ok. I didn’t end up going to school during that time, and that was the first time that CPS came around. At first I didn’t know what was happening. Mum was back now, I didn’t tell anyone that she was gone. Ends up the school was wondering where I was for two weeks without letting them know I was away, they phoned my mum and no answer and since they became a little worried they phones CPS to check out to see if we were ok. Turns out we weren’t in there eyes.

We were now pulling up to a house. Melissa opened her window and pressed a button on the intercom and waited for an answer. Once she identified herself the gate opened and we started to drive up to the house. It was much bigger than I expected it to be. Antionette and Mila were staring out of the car window amazed by the house, as they’d never seen something this big before. We were used to small rooms, not a lot of food and being around horrible people who really didn’t want us. Melissa parked the car and started to get out the car and went to open the boot to get out our belongings while I got us three out of the car. I made sure they looked presentable and told them to be on there best behaviour and to be polite, even though I know at some point that will fly out of the window. While we were staying by the care getting ready the door of the house opens and a man and woman come out they start to walk up to us and Melissa.

That’s when the women speaks up and introduces themselves to us. “Hey, I’m Danneel and this is my husband Jensen we’re the Ackles. It’s to nice to finally meet you guys.” I smile at them while the little ones tell them their names. They always liked meeting new people, they always become attached very quickly, I on the other hand didn’t. I said hello though out of politeness and we all headed into the house. Melissa stayed for awhile and helped us get settled into the house before leaving. We were shown to our rooms, Antionette and Mila were sharing a room down the hall from you and I had my own room. We were on the top floor, I didn’t mind though the house was very big. They didn’t have any children, why did they think they could look after 3 children at once. Mila and Antionette spent the evening playing in the living room with the toys they brought with them while I watched them reading my book to make sure they were ok.

Everything in this house seemed perfect. They were nice people but still in the back of my mind was why were they doing this. Were they just doing this to make themselves look better to their family and friends, or doing some charity thing. I was going to keep an eye out for sure. Later on that night I found out the Jensen was an actor and dint spend that much time in the house during the year, but since he was on hiatus he was at home until he had to leave next.

We had currently been living with the Ackles for 2 week now and have been going to school for the past week. I was the only one going to high school while the little ones were going to be attending the elementary a school. Jensen had just parked outside the high school and turned off the engine. He told me to have a good day and I went off my way. I got assigned to my classes and went on with my day, I liked the school people were kind, didn’t ask too many questions and everything seemed like it was going to be ok. By the end of the school day, Jensen came back around to pick me up while Danneel picked the little ones up from school.

When we arrived home Danneel and the kiddos were already home and Danneel was already starting to prepare dinner. I helped the kids do their homework before getting out the laptop that Jensen has given me permission to use to start writing my English essay which is due in 2 weeks. Romeo and Juliet a simple story about love but full with anger. I was half way wiring the essay when a knock came from my bedroom door, and it opened slightly.

“Hey Bela, hows the essay writing going?” Jensen asked while walking into the room.

“Ermm… it’s going ok. Should have it done by tonight.” I say putting the laptop next to me on the bed.

“Well that’s good.” Jensen said while nodding his head. “I just came up to let you know dinner is ready.”

“Ok, just let me save this file and wash my hands and I’ll be down.” I say. Jensen nods and gets up and leaves.

I washed my hands and made my way downstairs. I reach the dining room everyone was just about to sit down. I sat between Mila and Antionette, Danneel and Jensen started to bring in plates of food and places them in front of all of us. Antionette just starred at her plate. I could understand why we haven’t had a proper home cooked meal in so long. Since we have been here, the past week we’ve have some takeout and a bbq. This was our first sit down dinner.

“Where’s the potato chips?” Antionette asked.

“We’re not having any chips tonight sweetheart.” Danneel said while picking up her knife and fork.

“I want my chips” Antionette continued.

That’s when I started to intervene. I don’t want her to get into trouble. “Antionette” I say at a louder volume.

“It’s ok Bela” Danneel said. “Me and Jensen worked really hard to make this dinner, we wanted to make lots of yummy for for us to all eat.”

“NO! I want my chips” Antionette shouted.

“No les hablas así.” (You don’t talk to them like that.) I raised me voice to Toni. She started to shout back and me and hit my hands away from her as I was trying to keep her from having a tantrum at the dinner table.

“Bela stop. Let me handle this.” Danneel said with a raised voiced, like she was shouting.

“Why are you yelling? I’m only trying to help.” I say back to her.

“IM NOT YELLing” Danneel shouted but got quiet near the end. “Well then I was, but I.” She turned to Antionette and continued “don’t do what Bela said. But Bela I’ve got this” I just nod at her and sit back in my seat and let her handle it on her own. I started to eat my potatoes listening to them.

“I don’t think she is getting on board with the plan hunny” Jensen said across the table.

Antionette kept shouting, she got up from the table and ran into the kitchen and got a bag of chips. Things started to happen and somehow the bags of chips popped open and went everywhere, then her milk got knocked over and went all down her clothes. She started to make her angry noise. She would heavy breath which would sound like she was growling like a dog. She picked up her plastic knife from the table and kept looking at them.

“Can I? I ask. They nod.

“Baja el cuchillo ahora.” (Put the knife down now.) I say while grabbing it down of her little hand. “ahora vamos al baño y lavemos y luego disculpemos cuando hayamos terminado.” (Now we go to the bathroom and wash and then apologize when we're done.) and then I dragged her to the bathroom. “gracias” Jensen said. When we were done she apologised and gave them both a hug. I spent the rest of the night in my bedroom reading my book before I fell asleep.

We had been living with the Ackles for nearly a month now, I’ve noticed that they talk about work but they never really leave the house that much. Maybe the work while we are at school but something always felt off about that. It was now the weekend. I was in the front room watching morning cartoons with the little ones while Danneel and Jensen made breakfast. That’s when the front door to the house opened up and a tall man and a small woman walked in to the house since they don’t have to walk past the living room to enter the kitchen we didn’t see them, but I saw them pass in the mirror. About 5 minutes later Jensen walked into the room and caught our attention.

“Hey. So breakfast will be done soon. I also wanted to let you know we are having a few friends over for have breakfast with us if that’s ok with you all.” He said while sitting down on the couch.

“Yeah. That’s fine.” I say and Antionette and Mila nod.

“Ok, well when is program finishes come on through to the kitchen for me please” Jensen said before leaving the room.

When I knew he was out of earshot I started to tell the girls that they needed to be nice to them. Even though we don’t know who they are they will prob be apart of our lives for a little while if not more. So we needed to make a good impression. We finished watching the show and made our way into the kitchen where the four adults were drinking coffee and there was a bowl of fruit and a tray of stacked pancakes in the middle of the table. We made our way inside and sat down at the table. The couple introduced themselves Jared and Genevieve, they were married. They knew each other as Jared and Jensen worked together.

“Oh, cool. What do you guys do?” I ask to them which eating some of the raspberries that where on my plate.

Jared looked at Jensen a little confused I didn’t understand why at first but them I found of they were all actors and actresses. Now I was a little on edge. Was I right? We’re they doing this since they wanted to look good in front of the world. That’s when I started to shut down a little, I just focused on my siblings and made sure that ate there breakfast. When we finished breakfast we went back into the living room, Antionette and Mila continued to watch TV while I read my book. After awhile I got myself ready for the day. I turned on my laptop and started playing my playlist while I took a shower. When I was done I rembered the conversation that happened during breakfast and decided to do some googling.

I typed in the search bar Jensen Ackles. Jensen Ross Ackles is an American actor, singer and director. Best know for his role as Dean Winchester on the CW show Supernatural. It carried on telling his birthday and all that jazz. He had also been in a few movies and other TV shows over the years. I also did the same with Danneel there didn’t seem to be anything bad to there names or what was on the surface. I was a little curious did they act the same way they did with us at home like he does on his show, was this an act. He’s an actor for a living was this all a lie, they stayed in my head for a long time.

After awhile I got dressed I’d my hair and put on some light makeup and headed downstairs. Antionette and Mila were still in there PJ’s. I entered the living room “Vamos, ustedes dos. Lavarse y vestirse.” (Come on, you two. Wash and dress.) I say they both start to wine a little. Jensen and Danneel and Jared and Genevieve were all looking at me wondering what I had said. “Now please.” I say with a smile. They get up off the floor and start to walk out the room “Help each other” and they left the room.

“What did you say to them?” Jensen asked.

“Oh.. just to get washed and dressed. They can do it.” I say and sit back down where I was before I got ready.

“You know you don’t need to look after them like that anymore right. We’re here, that’s what we are here for.” He replied.

“I know. It’s just I’m still used to it. Plus I don’t think they would move if it got too late.” I say with a little laugh.

Around lunch time all of us were in the backyard. At this point the Padalecki’s decided to bring there kids over since they were done with morning practice. All 5 of the kids were playing on the grass. Jared and Jensen were manning the BBQ, and I sat reading my book, when I decided to bring up this mornings googling.

“So this morning after breakfast I did something.” All the adults were listening. “I may have looked you up. I just wanted to see… Ermm…. I’m not sure what I was really looking for I just wanted to see… I think.”

“Ok. Just don’t believe everything you read. Not well of it is true.” Jared says.

I nod before turning to Jensen. “Why yours voice different? You sound really different with a deeper voice.” I say.

“Annoying acting choice” he replies.

Over the past 4 months we have had our ups and downs. I’ve had my fights with the Ackles where my little siblings took to them fast. Tonight was the night I was performing at the winter musical, where you just sang, or did something in the arts. Since being in this house, this family I’ve gotten more into music and started writing some songs and tonight I was singing one I wrote for Jensen and Danneel to tell them thank you. They have made my life better that I could have imagined. I was in the dressing where the other kids where getting ready, the 2nd act was on right now, I was the second to last performer. In the audience tonight was my whole family. Jensen, Danneel and their parents and Jared and Gen and my little siblings and I was excited but nervous. I didn’t want to disappoint anyone. It had been an hour, it was finally my time. I got out my chair and waited by the side of the stage. Mrs Mitchell announced my name and I walked out to the microphone and waited for the music to start. That’s when I closed my eyes.

I’ll Stay.

My feet are sore from walking all night long

No direction when there's nowhere to go

Empty picture frames of times all gone

Lonely echos of the stories we've told

If you put on my shoes walk a mile or two

'Til your eyes open wider then they used to

Then I will meet you there where the air is clear

Pinky swear, I'll meet you there

And I'll stay, with you I see new colours

And I'll stay, today until forever

And I'll stay, with you I see new colours

My eyes are open wider today until forever

I'll stay with you

Familiar faces as we chase the moon

Fall in love and I'll come crying to you

Through the changes and the Earth's bad moods

I'll lay my troubled bones on you

If you, put on my shoes walk a mile or two

'Til your eyes open wider then they used to

Then I will meet you there where the air is clear

Pinky swear, I'll meet you there

And I'll stay, with you I see new colours

And I'll stay, today until forever

And I'll stay, with you I see new colours

My eyes are open wider today until forever

I'll stay with you

And I'll stay, with you I see new colours

And I'll stay, today until forever

And I'll stay, with you I see new colours

My eyes are open wider today until forever

I'll stay with you

My eyes are open wider

Tonight

When I'm a hundred two, and I can't sing to you

Close your eyes, memorise how we used to.

When I heard the crowd applauding I opened my eyes. I gave a small smile before walking off the stage. I was in shock people liked what I did. I wasn’t at failure. I stayed behind the stage to watch the last performance before making my way down to the hall to find my family. Everyone was smiling at me. Jensen gave me a hug before Danneel got one. Then I got to eyes level to hug my sisters and grave them both a kiss. This was everything I had ever wanted growing up and my life was starting to o fall into place. What I didn’t know was when I got home Jensen and Danneel was going to change all three of our lives for the better and that ways a whole other adventure waiting to happen.

126 notes · View notes

thehangmansclub · 5 years

Note

Actually, I’d like to see something you’ve written for/about your apprentice Serena, if that wouldn’t be too much trouble!

Thank you for the ask Anon! It was certainly unexpected, and since I usually write non-specific MC fics or as Julian in my 20’s AU group roleplay, I didn’t have anything laying ready. So I just wrote this little bit for you! Hope you will enjoy the insight into the everyday life of my Serena.

A little intro before we start.

Serena is the oldest of the Blackthorn sisters - my three OC’s that I created for The Arcana, WTNC, and Stellamore. Yes, I know those are totally different universes, but hey, those are my OC’s, I can do what I want!

She is generally calm and poised. Always felt responsible for her siblings. Even as a child she thought of herself as just a slightly smaller adult, and she had to have everything under control.

She loves to cook. There’s something soothing in the certainty that using the right ingredients, mixed in the right proportions, cooked for the right time will result in some pretty content sighs of her loved ones.

She also likes to dance - one of the few occasions when she truly feels like she can let her hair down.

And of course, she loves Julian. He brings out the more spontaneous, fun-loving side of her, while she makes sure he doesn’t run himself too thin. And let’s just say that her need of taking the reigns and his urge to submit works very well together.

Ok, off to the fic - fluff with a dash of spice near the end, but nothing too explicit

The kitchen of their tiny apartment fills with the aroma of freshly cut herbs - marjoram, thyme, bay leaf… And the distinctive smell of rosemary taking the lead. “It’s not a proper stew without rosemary!” She remembers the way Mazelinka explained the recipe in detail, while she scribbled furiously in her notebook, her lettering almost as bad as Julian’s, not wanting to miss any detail from the “secret recipe” that is certainly not infused with magic.

Serena smiles to herself at the thought. The first time she ever tasted the dish and saw the blissful look on Julian’s face when he dug into his bowl, she made a vow to herself, that she will get the “I’ll take it to my grave” recipe. And everyone knows, that when she sets her mind to something…

It’s a warm, summer evening and through the open window, she can hear the commotion down the street. The rustling of wooden boxes, the voices of people gathering on the square, growing louder by the minute, and the excited squealing of children.

As the first tones hit her ears, her hips start swaying to the rhythm of an upbeat, but not too fast song. It’s her little ritual by now. Every Friday evening, she cooks to the sound of the musicians playing on the square, gracefully moving through the kitchen, tapping her spoon on various surfaces, accenting when the band hits a strong note. Everything comes together like a choreographed dance.

Serena doesn’t even notice, too deeply focused on her task, that Julian came home. Late, as always. Tired, as always, after making one too many house calls. But she knows him better than anyone and she knows he won’t ever say no to people who need his help, so she never complains. Just makes sure he gets to bed early, even if she has to pin him to the mattress herself. So what, if that doesn’t make him fall asleep any earlier than usual?

Lead by the wonderful smell, his feet drag him towards the kitchen. Leaning quietly against the doorframe, Julian watches in awe as she moves like water - her motions fluid when she puts the pastries into the oven only to turn around and taste the main course like it’s not a sequence of movements, but one. She finally settles behind the counter, chopping the remaining carrots, and he feels pulled like a magnet, compelled to close the distance, to taste the salt on her skin.

Serena is aware of him even before his long arms wrap around her waist, the scent of his sandalwood shampoo unmistakable. She pretends not to notice when his impossibly long fingers brush her long hair out of his way, but as soon as he kisses her neck, hot breath tickling the delicate skin behind her ear, she is forced to set the knife aside, her eyes closing involuntarily. She’s a strong woman, but Gods know, this man makes her weak.

“Smells divine…” he purrs lowly, his fingers sliding down her sides.

“Your favorite…” Her voice is raspy, only partly because she hasn’t spoken to anyone for a few hours.

“Oh yes, definitely my favorite… And the stew smells good too.”

She couldn’t possibly see it, but Serena swears she can feel that side grin showing up on his face, clearly pleased with himself by this witty response. His fingers find the hem of her shirt, and as soon as she feels his fingernails scraping her tight stomach, she knows she has to regain her control before it’s too late.

She turns around, fully prepared to scold him for distracting her, but before she could say or do anything, he hoists her up the kitchen counter with that daring smile on his face. “Ilya…” A warning, but only half-hearted. No one ever saw an eye-roll so distinctive as the one she makes, but as much as she tries to hide it, there’s no denying the way her lips curl at the corners. “The stew is going to burn…

“It would be a shame… So maybe just a taste?”

His mismatched eyes grow wide as without any hesitation she yanks him close by the collar, bracketing his narrow hips with her thighs, their lips meeting in a heated, almost punishing kiss. She only has a minute, and Serena will make damn sure that they will make it count.

Fingers raking his auburn curls, she devours him, and he growls into her mouth, the sound that she swallows with another hungry kiss. The dance of their tongues is intoxicating, and she has to remind herself that they need to breathe, reluctant to part even for a second.

The way she outlines the shape of his upper lip with the tip of her tongue is electric, his skin burning with a fire that only she can light, that distinctive movement bringing up a still fresh memory of what she did to him the night before.

The memory of the way his toes curled, his fingers grabbing the headboard of their bed in a white-knuckled grip as she brought him to the edge… Over and over again… but not letting him take that final leap…

Until he begged for it.

Finally, she pulls away, leaving them both panting, struggling to catch their breaths. With a pat on the shoulder, she narrows her gaze, giving him the stare that won’t take no for an answer. “Ilya, darling… Be a good boy and set the table.”

There’s a heavy sigh escaping his throat, a sound both wistful and content at the same time. Julian obliges, settling her back on her feet and she quickly moves to stir the heavenly meal stewing in the pot. He looks at her one more time before he walks out of the kitchen, and she sends him a pointed look over her shoulder, a saucy grin painting her face.

“And maybe… we will find some time to finish this before the dessert?”

#the arcana fanfiction #oc: serena #Serena Blackthorn #Julian Devorak #Julian x mc #Julian x apprentice #the arcana #cooking dancing and sex - the holy trinity #My writing

34 notes · View notes

yoosungiib · 6 years

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a hc for the rfa and minor trio where Mc throws a surprise party for their birthday?

RFA + Minor Trio reacting to MC throwing them a surprise birthday party

~~~

★ Yoosung ★

Was really hurt at first because he thought you forgot his birthday, but when he came home from work, opened the door and saw all his friends and you holding a banner that says ‘Happy Birthday Yoosunigie!!’, the disappointment he was feeling was totally worth it.

In fact, he gets really excited and starts squealing — sure, he may be a grown adult now that he’s a vet and in his later twenties, but the inner college kid will still come out every once and awhile, and when he’s getting a surprise party, it’s definitely coming out.

Definitely runs to you and almost squeezes the life out of you. “Cutie! Thank you so, so much! I knew you’d never forget my birthday!”

“Of course not, honey! How could I forget your birthday. Especially when you’ve been reminding me about it for the last month,” you say with a wink.

His surprise party is definitely one to have games. You can expect pin the tail on the donkey, bobbing for apples.

Don’t forget a piñata! It would probably be something simple like a colorful ball. And it’s filled with all his favorite candy! Saeran helped you to pack it and pick it out!

You get him a red-velvet cake that is almost as tall as him, and he totally goes on a sugar high later that night because it’s been awhile since he’s had a lot of sweet foods.

Over all he is incredibly grateful for this surprise party and what you’ve done for him. He’s very tired by the end of the day from all the excitement, but he makes sure the next morning to show you just how much he appreciates what you’ve done.

♪ Zen ♪

Zen was incredibly confused when he entered the studio and no one was to be found. He checked his phone, pondering to himself, ‘Did I get the time wrong?’

He made his way to the theatre hall, flicked on the lights, and gasped when he saw the whole cast for his newest show, the RFA, and you in the front gleaming.

He lets out an astonished laugh before running up on the stage and gathering everyone in for a group hug. But the group hug is short lasted as he shoves everyone away so he can get to you. He practically yanks you to him and lifts you up, spinning you around which causes you to giggle as you cling onto him. He sets you down and backs you into a wall as he gently kisses you. “Jagiya? Did you do all this?”

You snicker, pooping his nose and standing on your tippee toes to kiss his cheek. “Maybe~”

This is Zen’s party, so there are lots of drinks and everyone is drunk by the end of the night. Lots of snacks too, but mostly healthy snacks. There are a few bowls of chips but not many.

There is definitely loud music and a lot of dancing, and there is a DJ mind you. Since you guys are at a theatre, there are stage lights that you say are to replace ‘disco lights’.

There isn’t a cake but there are cupcakes, however, besides Seven and Yoosung, people are more interested in the dancing and partying then really eating. You and Zen laugh as you watch Seven and Yoosung compete with each other on who can eat more.

Everyone is very tired and very drunk by the end of the night, so while Zen is relaxing and talking with some of his cast mates, you are working to make sure everyone gets home safe by calling taxis.

Zen is a little drunk too, not as drunk as others but still drunk, so you drive home considering you didn’t drink a lot, but Zen is very doting the whole ride home.

He’s practically on top of you the whole time getting into the house and he collapses on top of you on the bed, kissing up your neck till he gets to your ear and whispers, “Thanks for such a wonderful night, babe. But who says it’s over yet?”

❀ Jaehee ❀

Parties, if not an RFA one, are not really her scene, or really something she is that bothered about. But a surprise party from you she is definitely down for!

Especially if you do a really good job and manage to hide it from her. She’s no 707 but she is incredibly smart and can usually figure out if you are hiding something from her pretty quick.

It’s a small party – only the RFA and it’s in your shared apartment with Jaehee. Nethertheless, she was very surprised when you removed your hands from her eyes and she saw everyone in the apartment. Not only that, the apartment has balloons and streamers and other party decorations.

She grins, turning to you and pulling you in for a hug. “MC, you shouldn’t have. I told you we didn’t need to do anything for my birthday.”

“Did you seriously think I’d let you not doing anything on your birthday? What kind of girlfriend do you think I am?”

“A wonderful one,” she says kissing you sweetly.

It’s a quiet party, but still all the fun. You’ve put food on the table, a small cake, and some drinks – all chosen specific to the different members likings.

You guys sit on the couch, talk, laugh, share memories. There is a really fun game of charades at one point where Seven, Zen, and Jumin are a team, and you, Yoosung, and Jaehee, and lets just say some people are not very good at the game Jumin which leads to almost everyone on the floor laughing with stomach aches.

When Jaehee wishes everyone goodnight, she joins you on the couch one last time and wraps her arm around you, slowly turning your head to face her with her pointer finger. A smile crosses on her face and she bends down, kissing you gently. “What a wonderful night, honey,” she says letting her finger trail up your jaw. “Allow me to show you just how grateful I am for this great night.” To conclude, the party lasts another hour and a half for you guys as she brings you to the bedroom and draws a close to her birthday.

☂ Jumin ☂

Jumin was happy enough with the breakfast in bed you gave him and the new collection of colorful ties! A surprise party was definitely not something he was expecting, but you never fail to surprise him after all.

In the penthouse is the entire RFA, his father, a few co-workers, and hey! Even some security guards are here ready to celebrate their bosses birthday.

He turns towards you, gently tugging you by the waist against him and bending down slightly so he can kiss your forehead. You laugh softly, wrapping your arms around his neck and saying, “Before you ask, I have four guards watching over Elizabeth so Seven can’t get to her, so don’t worry and enjoy your party, ok?”

Jumin chuckles, kissing your forehead again before guiding you back towards everyone, his arm never entangling from around you. “I didn’t plan to do anything else.”

Lots of wine and lots of funny stories from V about the few car crashes Jumin started and the couple times V has caught Jumin goggling over random pictures of cats instead of working much to Jaehee’s displeasure.

Seven tries to pop open a bottle of wine, even if he doesn’t plan to drink it, and the cap explodes off causing the wine to spurt out of the bottle. Seven being Seven has to of course spray everyone as the wine comes out like a fountain!

After that, Jumin is pretty much done with the party, and Seven and Zen are laughing their assess off being practically dragged by Jaehee and Yoosung out the door.

Jumin thanks the guards who attended, watched Elizabeth, and watched outside the door, thanked the other guests and wished them a goodnight, sending them off.

You were startled by Jumin almost pouncing on you the minute the last guest was out the door. He smothered you with kisses, causing you both to fall back onto the couch almost crushing poor Elizabeth!

“Jumin~ Was the party not enough excitement for one night?”

“Oh, darling, it was quite exciting. But I need to give you a proper thank you; one that cannot wait until tomorrow.”

☺ Seven/Saeyoung ☺

You were worried at first that you wouldn’t be able to keep the surprise party from Seven a secret since he’s so clever and he’d eventually figure it out. But he was so focused on what to do for Saeran he didn’t even realize you and Vanderwood were planning a surprise party.

Originally it was for both him and Saeran, but Saeran actually found out about it, so he decided to help you with the party as his gift to Seven. as well as a cat stuffed animal but he claims it’s because Seven will never let him live it down if he doesn’t get him a gift. We all know it’s because he loves his brother.

Seven is full on bawling when you surprise him. One, his princess 606 planned a surprise party for him, and two, you got frickin barn babies, oh my g o d he’s happy.

“M-MC, I love you so much, and I don’t deserve you. You are so pure and-”

“Ah, honey! Don’t do this, ‘I don’t deserve you’ stuff now, ok? Let’s enjoy your party! Wipe those tears and you can thank me later. Come on, I know you want to see the kittens.”

Oh, he does. You two and Jumin spend about an hour cuddling with the kittens, playing with them and taking selfies. Saeran even comes in at one point, taking a kitten from the bunch and walking off with it.

If there is any party for Seven, there is going to be three things; honey buddha chips, cats, and a food fight.

He is definitely one to shove his face in his cake while everyone is singing ‘Happy Birthday,’ and to be the more extra, he’ll then start chucking food at everyone. Yoosung is the first person to throw back after a piece of cake gets in his eye, and surprisingly Jaehee is next when she’s angered by cake getting in her hair.

Even if the food flying everyone and getting onto everyone’s clothes is annoying and a hassle, it’s a lot of fun for everyone.

Considering Seven is one who can stay up for two days straight, he is pretty tired after the party and collapses on the couch, bits of cake, chips and fur all over him.

Saeran grumbles as he helps you to get Seven to the bedroom, and changed too for that matter.

As you’re about the turn off the lights and go to sleep, you feel Seven roll over and wrap his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. He kisses the back of your neck before gently whispering into your ear, “Thank you, MC. Not just for the party. For everything.”

The next morning he definitely shows you how grateful he was for the party, and uses some of the special toys he got for his birthday~

❆ V ❆

Let’s just say, you and Jumin had the same idea, so the surprise party is planned by the both of you. And if Jumin is involved, it’s going to be a really nice, fancy, expensive party instead of the simple one you wanted to have.

You don’t complain as long as you are the one who is able to get V and bring him to the revenue.

V kinda figured out what you two were planning early on. The constant sneaking around, the weird decorations he catches you shoving and hiding in a storage room.

For your sake, he pretends to be surprised, putting on a look of awe even though in his head he’s saying, ‘I knew it.’

“Do you like it?” you ask nervously, twiddling your fingers and keeping your gaze down. V grins, tilting your head up and bending down to kiss you.

“I don’t like it,” he says and you frown. “I love it.”

Again, Jumin was involved. So there are ice sculptures, a really huge cake, fancy tables and flowers, and of course, Jumin has to make a speech that V is secretly laughing at, only because it’s such a typical thing for Jumin to do.

At one point during the night while everyone is partying (aka watching Seven try to shove cake down his throat), you, V and Jumin go out on the balcony for wine and chit-chatting.

You fall asleep while the two talk for about two hours. You’re a little surprised at first when you wake up in V’s arm since he’s carrying you to the guest room of Jumin’s penthouse, since you two will be staying with him for the night.

V grins, tucking you in and getting in besides you, pulling you into his arms. “Be honest with me Jihyun, you liked it right?”

“I did very much, MC. It was wonderful, even if we both know a huge party like this is not my scene.” You chuckle, nuzzling into V who wraps his arms around you a little tighter. He trailed his fingers up and down your back and you ask him what he’s doing. “Hm? Oh, just thinking about how I’m going to thank you tomorrow. I’m thinking a little more than just breakfast in bed.”

☻ Saeran/Unknown ☻

He’s a little uncomfortable at first – you had first asked him to put on a blindfold, which was a little nerve wrecking to him, then you wouldn’t tell him where you were taking him, and all of a sudden the blindfold is being yanked off and he’s in a room full of people screaming, “Surprise!” at him.

You stand in front of him and cup his face, beaming up at him before you stand on your tippee toes to kiss his cheek.

“Happy birthday, baby!” you say, kissing his nose this time. He slowly wraps his arms your waist and squeezes you.

“I’m confused. What is this?”

“It’s your birthday party!”

“I didn’t know I was having a birthday party.”

You giggle, running your hand through his tangled, red locks, smiling into his neck as you hug him a little tighter. “Well, that’s because it’s a surprise party.”

He really likes it. Well, the party he isn’t that fond of, only because he doesn’t really like being in a crowd and everything is very chaotic, but what he likes is that you put in the time to throw him the surprise party, and that is just enough for him.

Saeran clings to your side the whole night, and is very gracious towards those who are the party – mainly just the RFA members and a few others – thanking everyone who came.

He’s a little flustered by all the gifts, but he’s really grateful.

And he totally pipes up when you bring out the desserts. A big ice cream cake, lots of cupcakes, and tubs of ice cream to go with the ice cream cake. He’s a very happy boy at the end of the day, and he has a wonderful birthday.

Now that everyone is gone, Seven and Yoosung passed out on the couch and Vanderwood having retired to his room, Saeran brings you to the bedroom, a sadistic smirk on his face.

You let out a squeak as he hoists you up and you quickly wrap your legs around is waist, giggling a little as he rubs his nose against yours. “May I unwrap my gift now?” he asks, kissing along your collarbone whilst walking you back to the bed.

“But I already gave you my gift.”

He chuckles, dropping you on the bed and crawling on top of you, bending down to kiss your forehead then lips. “But darling, you’re the best gift I could every ask for.” Saeran shows his thanks to you in the possibly the best way~

✌ Vanderwood ✌

A surprise party? Well, parties in general he’s not fond of considering they always leave such a big mess, it’s crowded, and there is overall chaos,

However, he can’t help but grin when you take your hands off his eyes and he sees the living room to your shared apartment decorated, and Seven and Saeran holding gifts and a cake.

Clearly it is a small party, but you knew that would be enough for Vanderwood since he doesn’t know many other people besides the twins and some RFA members. And you know anymore people in the apartment would near enough give him a heart attack.

“MC…”

“I know, I know you said you didn’t want to do anything for your birthday, but baby you deserve this. You work so hard to provide for you and I, you make my life so much more happier and brighter, even if you’re always frowning, and I love you more than anyone else on this planet. So please, enjoy your party,

And happy birthday!”

Vanderwood has more fun than he will admit must keep his tsundere facade up. Seven, though crazy and has the tendency to annoy him, is the ultimate life of the party bringing a karaoke machine. Seven of course goes first, singing a few songs from BTS and completely butchering Chandelier.

Seven is the main person to use the karaoke machine, but Saeran and Vanderwood do at least one song. Saeran awkwardly sings Beautiful by Christina Aguilera, and it ends with him chucking the remote at Seven who is laughing his head off. You and Vanderwood do a duet, and afterwards you compliment him on his singing voice. He turns a very bright red.

After eating cake, ordering take out and opening his gifts, he sends the Choi Twins off with a warning they better not mention the singing again. Once the twins have left, he immediately struts over to you and throws you over his shoulder, you laughing in the meanwhile as he carries you off to the bedroom.

He plops you down on the bed, following you shortly as he gently kisses you, his hand roaming up and down your body, tugging at your clothes. “What was that you said earlier? You love me more than anyone else on this planet?”

“I did say that.”

“Hmm. What about the part where I’m always frowning? How about I show you a different expression. And I can show my thanks for this nice little party too.”

~~~

Check out my masterlist page to see rules for requests!

A coffee please? ;) ~ Support Me Here

#Yoosung Kim #Zen #Hyun Ryu #Jaehee Kang #Jumin Han #Seven #Luciel Choi #Saeyoung Choi #V #Jihyun Kim #Saeran Choi #Ray Choi #Vanderwood #Mary Vanderwood 3rd #Mystic messenger #mYsme #mystic messenger headcanon #mysme headcanon

364 notes · View notes

prettyfunkyunorganized · 6 years

Text

Daughter Series - McCree pt. 2

Sorry I took such a long break! This is the first day I’ve REALLY felt okay again - not coughing and wiping my nose a ton. GET YOUR FLU SHOTS, PEOPLE!!! Holy crow. I appreciate your patience while I caught up on life stuff and planned my big fic :)

Anywho. here’s another McCree and Juniper post! Inspired by my bought of Influenza B. Only 1,800ish words. I’m learning to keep it shorter! :O

More Daughter Series: Hanzo, Roadhog, McCree, Soldier 76, Genji

McCree installments: pt 1, pt 2

masterlist

It was about the middle of the afternoon and McCree was damn hungry. What he wouldn’t give for something fried and topped with some sorta shellfish, but Mercy had pitched the fryer weeks ago – she was a cruel, health-minded tyrant. Leftovers or a sandwich would have to do. “Wonder what my sweetpea’s up to,” he mused, wandering down the hallway. Juni was probably elbow deep in some turret or Winston’s temperamental Tesla Cannon over in Torbjorn’s workshop. How that girl could spend all day with that sour little engineer, McCree would never know. She was always smiling though and swore Torb treated her well.

The cowboy pushed open the door and was instantly greeted with the sound of angry Swedish grumbling.

“Somethin’ givin’ you trouble, Torb,” McCree asked.

“Yes, but I’m sure you can’t do anything about it,” the little man griped. He was madder than a wet hen today.

“Alright, alright. I’ll leave ya be,” he chuckled. “You know where my Juniper is, though?”

“Haven’t seen her,” Torbjorn said, muffled by the screwdriver in his mouth.

“Since . . .” McCree asked leadingly.

“Since yesterday.”

He frowned deeply. “Yesterday? She hasn’t been in here all day?”

Torb sighed heavily and swiveled on his tall stool. “That’s usually what ‘since yesterday’ means. Maybe you need to cut all that hair, cowpoke – I’m starting to think it’s clogging your ears.”

McCree burst out laughing, “Oh, but that giant-ass bushy beard never gets in yer way?”

The man opened his mouth and took a deep breath to retaliate, but then stopped dead. “Good point,” Torbjorn shrugged. “But no, I haven’t seen little Juniper today, which isn’t like her. I figure she’s got her reasons. I was going to go knock on her door, but I lost track o’ time. You going to check on her?”

“Yeah,” he nodded vigorously, “I’m gonna find her.”

“Let me know if something’s up,” Torbjorn said turning back around, “but I’m sure she’s just a little burnt out. She’s a little worker bee, that one. I found her in here at 9:30 last night and told her to take a breather. Probably just relaxing somewhere and drifted off. She definitely got that ability to sleep anywhere form you.”

Jesse beamed proudly and thanked his teammate for the tip. Every time someone pointed out a similarity between him and his daughter, McCree swelled with pride. She was an infinitely better person than he was, but she also made him feel like a better man. If Juni saw something worthwhile in him, he must be doin’ alright.

“Juniper,” he called, knocking on her door – just a few feet from his own, “you in there?”

All was quiet, but just as McCree was about to leave, the thick metal door slid open. Juni stood blinking in the fluorescent lights with a big blanket wrapped around her shoulders and her hair strung about wildly.

“Takin’ a nap, sweetpea,” he laughed.

“Yeah,” she said roughly and began coughing. The smile fell from McCree’s face.

“You feeling okay,” he asked worriedly.

“I’m sick,” she explained, rubbing her face drowsily.

“Aw, honey, why didn’t you tell me?!” He pulled her into a hug, and she giggled, coughing into her blanket after.

“I didn’t want to bug you,” she replied, smiling up at him. “I know you guys have a lot going on right now with Overwatch operations being started up again. And I already went to Angela for some meds, so don’t worry.”

“Did she say it’s just a cold,” he asked rubbing her cheek.

“Yup. She told me to take it easy and get some rest. I’ll be okay soon.”

McCree squeezed her tighter. “You still should have told me,” he pouted, “I shoulda been takin’ care of you.”

“I was going to let you know eventually, honest,” she said into his serape.

He smoothed her hair and kissed her forehead. He loved holding her close. “You doing any better now?”

“Not really,” she moaned. “I should take some more medicine and get some water, though.”

“Have you eaten?” She shook her head. “Well then, I’m going to heat us up some soup and bring it to you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Juniper insisted.

“Hey,” he said pecking the top of her head, “don’t deny me the chance to take care of my sick baby girl. I missed out on every other cold, so I got a lot of making up to do.”

She snorted and smirked, “You don’t have to make up for anything, McCree. You’ve already done so much for me.”

“I want to take care of you, Juni,” he said softly. “Now, go curl up, and I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay,” she laughed. “Thanks, McCree. I’ll leave the door unlocked for ya.”

He rushed to the kitchen and plopped a couple cans of soup in a pot, tapping his foot impatiently as the contents heated up. Slowly. He dug around in the cupboards and found some powdered “Orange Drink” and dumped it in a jug of cold water. Hopefully, it wasn’t too nasty. Winston was about the only one who liked this stuff, likely because of his time on the Lunar Colony, but it did have a lot of vitamin C and D. A while later, McCree was juggling a filled thermos of chicken noodles, a couple of bowls, two spoons, and the fake OJ. He hardly had a free finger to thumb her door’s keypad.

“Need a hand,” Juniper asked with a giggle as he walked into her room.

“I got this,” he laughed, catching the bowls before they fell too far down his side.

McCree set everything down on her bedside table, scooting a few things over.

“Sorry it’s a mess in here,” she said flushing. “I’ve never been the best about keeping my room clean.”

“Don’t you worry about that,” McCree smiled at her, “I don’t mind a bit. I was a messy guy for a long time until this place whipped me into shape. Not that you need to be whipped into shape! I was much, much worse.”

“I’ll tidy up soon,” she promised, snuggling deeper into her bed.

“It’s ok, baby girl,” he said slowly. “Stop worrin’ so much. You’re perfect, ya hear?” He kissed her head again.

“You’re gonna get sick too if you keep kissin’ me like that,” she laughed.

“Pfft, I’ll be fine! I’m healthy as a horse! Now, you eat up.” He sat on the edge of Juniper’s bed with her and they ate quietly, some soft music playing from her phone. Eventually, she slumped over and rested her head on his shoulder, yawning.

“Thanks for the soup,” she said putting her bowl on the table before leaning back into him.

“Did it help any,” he asked, putting his head on hers.

“Yeah,” she nodded, “my throat feels better.”

“Good,” he cooed softly. “Drink your juice? Or, I guess, juice-like drink?”

She smirked, “Yeah, I got a glass down.”

“Was it gritty?”

“So gritty,” she laughed.

“Damn. I was hoping that stuff had gotten better over the years, but I guess not,” he chuckled.

“I might lay back down for a while, McCree, if you don’t mind,” she said rubbing her eyes.

“Alright, baby girl, whatever you need. You want me to go? I can sit with ya ‘til you fall asleep if you want,” he offered sheepishly. “Or not.”

Her smile was wide and understanding, as it often was. It made McCree realize just how lucky he really was. “You can stay if you want to. That’d be nice. Real nice.”

Juni’s lilt was making a strong appearance now that she was medicated and sleepy, which filled her father with delight. She crawled over the small bed and flopped onto her pillow, a box of extra soft tissues by her side. McCree twisted around so he could toy with her hair and rub her back, his knee resting on the sheets.

“Comfy,” he asked quietly, dimming the nearby lamp.

“Mm-hmm,” she sighed happily, wriggling to his side so she could nuzzle against his leg. McCree almost melted, then and there.

“I’ll be right here if you need anything, sweetpea,” he whispered, sappy tears filling his eyes. She was everything he’d ever wanted.

“Okay. Thanks, McCree.”

“Of course, Juniper.” He pulled off his serape and draped it over her, making Juniper’s smile grow.

“McCree,” she said, looking up at him, “thank you, for everything. You’re my favorite person in the whole world, and I don’t know what I did before I found you. I’m a really lucky kid.”

“Aw, Juni, honey,” he sputtered, incredibly overwhelmed, “I’m the lucky one! You’re the most wonderful little thing I’ve ever seen, and I love you, sweetpea.”

“I love you, too,” she said back. “I’m really glad you’re my dad.”

He laughed, brushing her brown locks behind her ear. “Me too. You know, you can call me Dad, if you want.”

Her face drooped, and she turned away.

“But you don’t have to,” he said hurriedly, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice.

“I just . . . that’s a complicated word for me,” she said heavily.

McCree rubbed her arm, as if trying to warm back up her mood. “That’s alright, hun, you don’t have to call me that if you don’t want to. It’s just a glorified nickname.”

She sighed again, sitting up next to him. “It’s just that I asked Harris if I could call him ‘Dad’ when I was really little, and he said no. It kinda broke my tiny, kindergartener heart and I’ve never really liked sayin’ that word since. I’m sorry. I know it’s dumb, but – ”

“Juni, it’s not dumb,” he said wrapping his arms around her and dragging her so her back so it was pressed against his chest. “You’ve had a very, I ‘spose . . . unorthodox upbringing. If there’s some stuff you’re not feelin’ up for, I can 100% understand that. I just want to be there for you, hon, no matter what you call me.”

“Promise yer not mad,” she asked softly, putting her hands over his.

“Not even a tiny bit,” he promised her.

Juniper wormed out of his arms and turned around to give him a proper hug. “Thanks, McCree. You’re the best.”

“I try,” he chuckled, “Now why don’t you lie down and get some rest?”

She slid back under the covers, cuddling close to him again. “You’re still gon’ sit with me for a while, right?”

“I’m not going anywhere until you toss me out of here by the scruff of my neck,” he grinned.

“Good,” she said through another yawn.

He took care of her for the next few days – pouring her cough syrup, bringing her crackers, or smothering her with hugs. Of course, McCree got sick, too, so Juniper was happily able to take care of him in return. Neither one had ever been so happy while ill.

Additional tags: @watch-your-grammer @winchester-sonsandcastiel

#mine #writing #overwatch #overwatch drabble #drabble #my drabble #mccree #juniper #torbjorn #daughter series

21 notes · View notes

blackirisposts · 6 years

Text

Rattled Keys and An Unexpected Guest

Darcy's had a day. Like a helluva day. All she wants is to be alone, at home, and have a drink..

Word Count: 2205

Notes: Un-beta’d, I own no characters, swearing, drinking, fluff; you’ve been warned.

Originally posted here: archiveofourown.org/works/2128398

She rattled her keys uncharacteristically loudly as she stomped up the stairs to her apartment.

Today had been a long ass day. Work had been fine, realistically, but between the normal hustle and bustle of her typical day at the lab, life had managed to add a few unsightly events to her already long day.

Coffee spilled on her new cream pumps, which caused her to mentally castrating herself on her decision to deviate from her typical black shoes. She tore her stockings, well thigh highs really, on the subway. She’d been trying to appear classier lately and part of her attempt to do so was to no longer go bare legged while wearing skirts. She should at least try to be a lady to counter when her tongue got away from her.

These things of course were minor in comparison to the events of the destruction of the copier that ultimately ruined her ‘can do’ attitude that she was striving to maintain throughout the day. What she thought had been a paper jam with a simple tug and pull to alleviate the matter ended with her pulling a Tony and had half of the machine dismantled and scattered throughout the office. Of course, to make matters worse while in the midst of fixing the machine, her ever clingy mother called and started on her now weekly drill of questions that affronted her single status and when, not if, but when was she planning on settling down and getting serious with her life.

The ink smudges that covered her arms and skirt were topped off with a small smudge on her forehead. She could care less as she was almost home. Today was not her day and it was beyond time for a drink and long hot shower.

“Hmmpft.” Followed with incomprehensible babble came from her as she fought her front door’s lock. Today it stuck more than normal and she was in no mood for it.

Finally through the door, with another disgruntled moan toward the door, she threw her keys in a bowl and slammed the door shut with her foot before locking the dead bolt on the door.

“Home.” She mumbled leaning on the door and closing her eyes. Off came the newly ruined shoes. “And now for the booze and jazzy music.”

On her way to the kitchen she pulled her blouse off and threw it on the couch. Once in the kitchen she shimmied out of what was left of her stockings and threw them directly in the trash. “Adios you bastards.”

Turning the light on over her stove she reached for her favorite glass and all the fixings for a greatly deserved drink. Remembering her stained skirt, she removed it and to attempt to remove the offending smudges in the kitchen sink, seemingly forgetting her drink in her ministrations.

“Oh screw this.” She said, leaving the skirt in the sink for a later time when her nerves where calmed.

She took her ipod from her bag. Remembering it died on the subway ride into work, she grunted again. Today really wasn’t her day. At least she managed to be wearing matching black lace bra and panties, she thought to herself as she moved to her laptop on the kitchen counter.

“Hmm.. something good, something good..” She mumbled to herself as she surfed through her hoards of music. She clicked on Martin Garrix’s Animals to start. Mainly to kill the silence that she now found unbearably irritating. She needed, if only for a moment, to drown out her thoughts. She skipped to her favorite part of the song, but it still didn’t do it for her. “Next...Next!....Next!!” Obviously shuffle is not working for her today as a string of her usual favorites were not creating the soothing atmosphere she desired. She then settled on a play list, one she rarely lets anyone know she has. It’s of older music. “Frozen Bro’s-Esce” is what she named it. “Esce” as it wasn’t strictly 30’s and 40’s but also 50’s music. In all honestly, she absolutely adores it. Always had. Even before she knew the two men that had gone through so much. As the music starts to drift from her speakers, she starts to relax a little and moves to resume making her drink.

“See the pyramids along the Nile Watch the sun rise on a tropic isle But just remember, darling, all the while You belong to me”

She starts to sing along with the beginning of the second verse and walks to the bathroom, drink in hand when something didn’t seem just right. Something tall and dark caught her eye. So she walks backwards, slowly, into the living room. Hoping beyond hope that if she moves slow enough the funny feeling is really just her frayed nerves sprinkled with newly added spirits and not anything more. She stops and turns, eyeing the living room.

“There it is. The other shoe dropping for my crap-tastic day.” She says. “What are you doing here Ice Man?” Pointing with her drink.

Bucky, arms crossed, leaning against the wall, smirks and looks her over slowly, admiring her bravado and curves.

“Well.. You said to stop by if I was having a bad day or ‘whatever’ and I figured I’d take you up on it for once.” He said, still staring. “And evidently I chose the right night, doll.”

She rolled her eyes and downed the rest of her drink. Ignoring that she was in her skivvies would be easier once the drink was gone. She was grateful she had only barely started singing along to the music and had not started fully dancing like she usually would have.

“So you decided to break in? I know they had phones back in your day, you could have called first, you know.”

“Yeah, but then I woulda missed out on the show.” He said tilting his head and quirking an eyebrow. “Besides, needed to be somewhere.. different..Away from Mother Steve..” He paused for a beat. “Had I known you strip once you get home, woulda made a point of comin’ here sooner.” He ended with a wink.

“Well, today’s not my day either, Buck-o. Wanna talk or drink about it? Evidently, I’m out.” She said as she raised her empty glass as evidence. She moved back to the kitchen and returned with a bottle of vodka and two short cobalt glasses that she set on the coffee table.

“Sit. Pour. Spill.” She commanded as she walked to her bedroom in search of something to cover up with. And what could he do but follow orders.

He’s eight shots in to her four.

After a comfortable silence filled only with pouring liquid, clicks of glasses and exacerbated sighs turning to calm breaths, he picks up her blouse from the seat next to him, “Looks as though you had a day too, doll.” He comments, not really handing it back to her.

“You don’t know the half of it…” She scoffs and grabs the blouse from his hand. “Coulda been worse I suppose.” Darcy swirled her fifth drink before throwing it back. “Coulda been wandering around here naked before I realized your sorry ass was here.” She snorted at the truth of it.

“Seein’ you, and your curves, was the highlight of my day. That can’t be the worst part of your day.” Stalling, always stalling this one.

“You’re not getting away with it that easily, mister.” Her almost slur was an art form. “Besides, I’m covered now!” Waving a hand at her tank top, yoga pants and vintage style silk robe. Looking down at the robe while hearing the next song come on, another of Ella Fitzgerald’s, she wondered if she was the 'one out of time.'

He simply responded with a smirk as he poured another round.

Bucky’s at fifteen. Darcy’s at nine, well eight and a half.

“You gotta stop stalling Buck-Buck.”

“You gotta stop pestering, doll.”

“Hey, I’m not the one that admitted I was having a bad day.”

“You didn’t have to, doll. You attacked the door and threw your clothes all over the place. Not that I’m complainin’ about the last bit.”

“Well, I’m sure the door was in a more proper working order ‘till someone decided it’d be easier to fuck with my lock than drop a text or call.” She accused, raising an eyebrow. “But you did come over here ‘cuz of a bad day, didn’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe, my ass. You never come over here unless I drag you over.” She countered.

Chuckling and downing another glass, “I like you and your ass.” He mumbles.

Bucky: Eighteen.

Darcy: Nine.

She’s sprawled from her side of the couch to most of his, again, not that he’s complaining. Her legs are slung over his and she traces the plates that make up his left arm; both of which he finds oddly grounding. She’s just the distraction he needed. She’s smart and funny and doesn’t treat him like he’s a broken mess that needs constant protecting. When he first got there she was one of the first to call him on his shit and make fun of him when everyone else had kept quiet. And she’s got the body to match the mouth she has. Both of which get him going, but he keeps that on lock down, never knowing, regardless of his training, if she could ever want more of him. More of them.

That is until today. Tonight really. He’s had a terrible day and needed a boost after another successful mission gone dark that sparked flash backs and memories he thought he’d reconciled. His therapist helps, but only so much. Her. She helps more. Even if he’s not the one talking. Ok, especially when he’s not the one talking. He loves that she rambles at times, like she is now. Loves? Really? Yeah. He does. He loves her.

Bucky: Twenty three.

Darcy: Ten.

“I know you’re all..” waves hands..”Super soldiery and all, but shouldn’t you like, you know, slow down, or not drink All the Vodka?”

“’ur cute when you worry, doll.”

“Pshh, you woulda loved me in high school then. College too. Hey, did you even go to high school? I was looking at my great grandfather death certificate forever ago and he stopped going to school after the eighth grade. Is that..was that common?..”

And there she goes again, rambling away when anyone else would have kept their mouths shut or said something beyond safe instead.

“..Oh..I..uh..Sorry..Prolly don’t wanna talk about that..or maybe don’t remember?” The vodka, right. She stopping drink awhile ago. Afraid to truly and fully let her guard down and knew it would only break that barrier down all the faster if she keep downing drinks. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him. The problem, if you like to call it that, was that she liked him. Or maybe more than liked. But she tried not to let her mind wander down the path of ‘how much exactly do I like the formerly brainwashed assassin turned good-guy, when he probably only sees me as a friend like he does Rogers.’

“Don’t mind you asking, doll face.” He’s talking again, breaking her derailed train of thought. “You really wanna know about the time or just curious about me?” giving her another sideways glance with a smirk as he fills the small cobalt glasses.

“You. Well..both, both is good” she stammers, smiling wide in attempts to hide her blush and previous thoughts from her face, “you know that’s fro-“

Her reveal is cut short by his reveal. His lips brushing hers, as his real hand comes up and cups her face in earnest. Her lips aren’t moving, she’s frozen, but it’s a good frozen. Her surprise is overwhelming her, making her unable to move. Her eyebrows are rocketed towards her hair line but she manages to at least slam her eyes shut. A grin slowly forms on her lips. As he begins to doubt himself in her stillness and draw back from the mistake of this kiss, and soon after her apartment, she grabs the collar of his shirt and draws him in closer for a proper kiss.

Now it’s his time to smile slightly as her lips find his again. Her hands fisting in his shirt relax and move to his neck and the base of his head as her lips start to move against his. His fingers become tangled in her hair. His metal hand now resting around her waist, absently tracing the edge of where her top has risen exposing warm skin, the weight of it slowly registers and brings her from her dream state.

“Hmm.”

“Hmm, yourself doll.” He moves so their foreheads are just touching, his fingers in her hair, thumb rubbing over her cheek.

“Gotta say, didn’t think you had it in you. Thought maybe you went all Steve on me and couldn’t see me as anything more than a comrade.” She said, grin going a little goofy.

“Maybe it just took me a while to finally act on it.” He shrugged, before bringing his lips to hers again.

#Darcy #darcy lewis #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x darcy lewis #drinking #mentions of Tony #mentions of Steve #marvel #crack #first kiss #friends to #friends to lovers #music #music feels #sass #booze #fluff

40 notes · View notes

neganandblake · 7 years

Text

I think I liked you better when you better when you didn’t have a knife in your hand, Peaches... Chapter 76 - As stubborn as the other

When Blake finds herself sold out to the Saviours by her abusive fiancé, she realises that she's certainly not on her own anymore and finds an unlikely friend in Negan. And Negan does NOT like men who beat their girlfriends, one tiny bit…

MASTERLIST

Chapter 75 - As stubborn as the other

[Blake and Negan realise that the Sanctuary walls are not big enough for them to avoid each other forever...]

Blake wandered down the long corridor alone, keeping her head bowed low, not even acknowledging the few Saviours she had passed along the way down here.

It was mid-morning and had turned out to be a warm and sunny day. Much different to the rain storms and showers the region had been privy to over the last few days, at least!

Blake had slept terribly last night, tossing and turning until the early hours, where she had finally drifted off into a dream-world filled with visions of David, of hungry snapping walkers, and hands pulling her down into the darkness….

She had woken, drenched with sweat. sitting bolt upright and scaring herself half to death, with her undraped window filled with a grey early morning light. She had then somehow managed to get in another hour or two before, finally waking again and making a move to drag herself up.

Blake had then promptly taken a cold shower in the communal stalls in the bathroom down the hall, before drying of her long caramel hair as best she could, slipping on a pair of black jeans and a grey t-shirt, and wrapping a wide black belt with a huge buckle around her curved hips.

And it was then that he had begun to pace, worrying at her lip with her teeth, thinking about last night….at what had happened between her and Negan.

Had it all been just a silly argument?

Because right now it felt like more than that. Worse than just a silly tiff, with both saying hurtful things to the other.

But Blake was stubborn, wounded by the Saviour's words….

At his blasé attitude towards Mia's death…

He had shown his true colours, and the last thing Blake was about to do, was fall back into his arms…to forgive him…

For how could she, after everything?

But the caramel-blonde woman knew that she could not stay cooped up in this room here forever.

Perhaps today she could leave the Sanctuary, take a pack full of stuff and just…. go…

But where?

She had burned all her bridges with Rick and the folks back in Alexandria now, and there really weren't many other safe places out there in this world anymore…

So she would try and get through today at least…think about it a while longer…hunger distracting her for the time being.

And so Blake had headed down towards the large canteen. Hoping to god she did not run into the dark-haired Saviour while she was down there.

For she was still upset. Angry at what had been said between them last night. She realised now that she was nothing more to Negan than a conquest. He hadn't cared about Mia, and he certainly hadn't cared about her!

Blake had just been a distraction to him, and that's all she would ever be. She could see that now.

And so, keeping her eyes on the ground now, Blake she turned the corner, heading into the large open-plan hall that acted as makeshift canteen for the Saviours.

Here, several long tables were set up, with plenty of people going to-and-fro today, carrying tray and bowls full of food.

But as Blake walked through the open door's leading inside, an eerie hush fell over the entire area almost instantly.

Blake immediately bristled, lifting her eyes for the first time since she had left her room, before giving a dry gulp.

Almost every single person in the room's eyes were on her now. But unlike yesterday, this was not reverence. None of them fell to their knees, but all of them kept on looking at her….like she was a some sort of mythical creature, a thing of legend here.

Had news of her and Negan's argument, really travelled that fast?

Probably, Blake pondered.

For what else was there to gossip about in this world? What else peaked everyone's interest here, but the private life of their leader and the woman he had had hanging from his arm these past couple of months, like a trophy? Appearing and reappearing here and there.

Angry and distraught tears pricked at her eyes now….bitter at what she had become here.

And so Blake, let her head fall again and walked silently forwards…feeling just like she had all those many weeks ago, when she had first come here with David…feeling so small and helpless…

She headed over to the end of the queue for food, and stood alone, a little away from the person before her, keeping herself to herself.

But even before the long line had moved more than a couple of feet, she felt someone suddenly part the crowd over to her left, striding purposely towards her.

She glanced up suddenly, thinking that it might have been Negan.

But it wasn't.

Instead, Blake's eyes fell upon the curly-haired Arat, who came to stop at her side, wearing a long checked shirt shucked over a black vest, with a large gun attached firmly to her belt.

"Hey," she said, her face fixed, neither smiling nor angry, giving Blake nothing.

Blake parted her lips, but didn't reply. Was she here with a message from Negan?

"I, uhhh," said Arat after asecond or two, looking almost a little awkward, shoving her hands into the front pockets of her jeans , before glancing Blake's way again. "I just wanted you to know, that what you did last night, to those fuckers that tried to hurt you…"

Blake's heart pounded in her chest. Arat had been there, of course, witnessing everything…

"…that took guts…so, I uhhh, don't, uhhhh, don't beat yourself up…about other things, ok?"

The curly-haired woman frowned a little and offered Blake a small important nod, before marching swiftly away, as Blake's green eyes followed her across the room.

Not in a million years had she ever expected that from Arat. From the woman oh-so loyal to Negan, there for every brutal moment of last night, from Blake bludgeoning Derek to death, to her and Negan's argument.

Blake sighed, before turning away once more, taking a step forwards in the line, and pondering Arat's words over and over inside her head.

Blake had eaten alone. That obviously, of course, wasn't a first for her, having been on her own many, many times at the tables at the Sanctuary before. But today she felt more aware of the whispers, of the covert glances, as she ate her meal of an omelette and a bottle of water, before getting hastily to her feet, needing some air.

She had swiftly hurried out of the dining hall, making her way past the library, past the makeshift-gymnasium, pursing her lips together tightly, feeling as though she couldn't breathe right now. Until finally she burst out of a door at the end of a long gloomy corridor, out into the bright sunshine.

But Blake stopped in her tracks suddenly, blinking.

For here, out in the courtyard she hadn't frequented since she had left the Sanctuary all those many weeks ago, was something indeed strange to behold.

A garden.

Plonked here amongst the dust, and the dirt, and the grimy factory windows.

The same garden she had asked Negan to create for his people all those many weeks ago. The same one she had encouraged him to set up. A garden that certainly hadn't been here in this entirety before she had left!

And yet now, it looked, well….beautiful.

The entire place was now covered in fresh green plants, some in tubs, wrapped around trestles, some surrounded by plastic greenhouses scavenged from different places. There were tomato plants, lettuce, beans, pumpkins, and on the far side under a shadowy grass area stood a little pen with a hen coop.

A few Saviour's both men and woman moved here and there, with watering cans and weeding tools, looking cheerful…like they had a purpose.

And Blake, at this, despite all her inner turmoil and the pain she was feeling right now, couldn't help but smile. Feeling happy.

"Blake," came a sudden voice from behind her, causing her to suddenly swing around.

The caramel-blonde woman blinked up now, to see Eugene crossing the courtyard towards her, wearing black button up shirt, black pants and matching black overcoat.

"Hey," Blake managed to utter out, her eyes flickering up towards him momentarily, feeling the top of her cheeks reddening.

Had he too heard about her and Negan's argument?

But the scientist merely nodded back, coming to stand before her, before suddenly, much to Blake's utter surprise, lifting a hand and placing it to her shoulder.

"It's good to see you. When I head you'd gone back to…well…back to Rick….and his…uhhh….people…" said Eugene in a low, earnest-sounding voice, speaking about the Alexandrians like had had never really known them. "…I thought I might never see you again."

Blake gave a small sniff, but didn't utter a word, her eyes instead drifting away over to where a small teenage girl with a green baseball hat on was plucking eggs out of the side of the hen coop easily, placing them into a square basket in her other hand.

Blake did not want to dwell of the happenings back at Alexandria, pushing the conversation instead to other things.

"This place…" she said finally, after a long moment or two of silence, as Eugene removed his comforting hand. "It looks….really, really good."

Eugene nodded slowly at her side.

"Yup," he mumbled back. "Negan's orders. He told us to get this place lookin' like a proper self-sustaining farmyard. Well, as much as it can be here anyway. We've got all sorta' scouts goin' out there every day with a list full of stuff to bring back. Fertilizers, peat, breedin' animals and so forth."

Eugene's tone was matter-of-fact as always, but Blake glanced at him, softening slightly.

Had Negan really taken all her words on board, and made a garden, not for himself, but to sustain his people? The people he had taken upon himself to take care of…

But she shook herself. Negan had proved to her that he thought very little about anyone but himself, so there had to be an ulterior motive to all this.

Blake bit at her lip, staring around the garden before turning back to Eugene.

"You think I might be able to help out here?" she asked a little tentatively, but Eugene gave her a blank, blinking look in return almost instantly.

"All this is yours anyway," he muttered bluntly. "I was just acting as an administrator in all this, until you got back."

Blake gave a small smile now.

All this…..hers?

This wondrous living part of the Sanctuary? Something she had helped to create here?

And for someone who had gone through two miscarriages and lost the one child she had loved more than anything, it was almost heart-warming to hear that this…something pure and hopeful in this hellish existence…could belong to her…to look after…to help grow…

"Thank you," Blake murmured back earnestly, letting a small gulp slide down her throat.

But Eugene, gave her a small, stiff smile.

"I really don' think I should be the one you should be thankin'," he said in a low voice, nodding slowly before heading quietly away and disappearing off inside.

Blake stared after him for a long moment, parting her lips and letting out a short breath of air.

Maybe, just maybe, this was her chance for a fresh start. A chance to build something good.

But even now, in the back of her mind, the voice of David, a voice that had been absent for so many weeks now, rang clear in her head.

With hateful, hurtful words that caused Blake to bow her chin low, and divert her eyes from the Saviours all around her, as she moved over toward the tomato plants.

Thus undoing all the good work Negan had managed to put right over these past few days, weeks and months….making her feel insignificant again.

It was late in the evening and getting dark outside, by the time Blake finally ventured inside, slightly dishevelled, with a sheen of perspiration lingering over her tanned collarbone.

But for the first time in a long while, exhausted from hard work, her bones aching from tending to the crops, weeding, shifting pots about.

But she felt happy after all that….contented even. Like she finally had a purpose here. And doing all that, well, it had helped take her mind of other things…

Other things that almost pained her to think about right now.

She was stubborn and proud and still so, so angry with Negan. But that didn't stop it from hurting…making her feel oh-so hollow and empty inside to be apart from him now.

She hadn't seen him the dark-haired Saviour all day. And apart from Arat earlier in the canteen, she hadn't even glimpsed Dwight or Simon, or one of the higher up General's that usually marched around in Negan's absence.

But maybe he didn't want to see her. Maybe that really was it. Maybe he was done with her.

Blake paced down the corridor that led back into the large canteen, busy now with people holing up inside for the evening, done with their work for the day, hoping to just grab a small bite to eat before heading back up to her room.

But Blake, sweeping her long slightly ruffled caramel-hair back over her shoulder, had barely made it a few feet into the room, when her eyes fell suddenly on a familiar face, striding across the open-plan hall, brow furrowed darkly, looking severely pissed-off, and talking in, what looked like, angry mutterings, to his right hand man beside him.

Negan.

Blake stopped in her tracks, her green eyes gazing over at him….

Seeing him for the first time since their argument. It all coming back to her now, painful and wounding.

And for a moment, Negan too, found her in the crowd, stopping immediately in what he was saying, his chocolate eyes staring her way.

Blake felt her heart almost instantly fall into her stomach, trying as hard as she could to find any sort of air in her lungs, as her heart pounded faster and faster, making her cheeks burn red.

But despite how much she yearned for him at this very moment, her gut jolting hard…she was still angry at what he had said to her. Upset at his choices.

And so, Blake, unable to take it anymore, tore her eyes swiftly away, dropping them to the floor and heading over to the line for dinner…

….just as Negan dragged his own irritable gaze away too, before turning and stalking off angrily himself…

Both of them as hot-headed, stubborn, and as furious as the other right now.

And neither wanting to be the first person to admit they were sorry…

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged/untagged in this fic. More coming soon…

158 notes · View notes

stigmin · 7 years

Text

playing with fire (5) | taehyung

genre: fluff, fuckboy taehyung, smut

pairing: taehyung x reader

summary: you knew what you were in for, but it was too late to get out. besides, it’s not like you wanted to anyways.

last chapter: part four

Lately, you were starting to like Taehyung’s company. He was more chill around you, and not as annoying as he used to be. But also his annoying and childish side was adorable to watch. You couldn’t believe it yourself. Not too long ago, you despised this boy for being able to breathe. Now the two of you were becoming somewhat, friends?

“Sit with us.” Tahyung tells you, as the two of you leave the lunch line.

You wanted to protest immediately. Not wanting to intrude on him and his friends. Even though his only closest friends were Jimin and Jungkook. And you were so against sitting with Jimin. But Taehyung was already dragging you to his table. The two of you were already giving the whole school the wrong message of you dating. Jimin was the last person that you wanted to see, let alone sit with for the next 30 minutes.

“Hey Tae,” Jungkook greets his friend as he approaches. Then as Taheyung sits down he sees the figure behind him. He froze.

“Y/N is sitting with us today.” He smiles.

Jimin looks up from his phone and gives her a smile. “Aren’t you two just the cutest.” He looks over at Jungloook who sat next to him. “Right Kook?”

Jungkook avoided all eyes and stuffed his mouth with food. You glared at Jimin, wishing looks could just kill. “I know I’m cute.” Taehyung shrugs. Knowing he caught on to what Jimin actually meant. He wasn’t slow. But you internally thank him for doing so, he knew you couldn’t handle the teasing.

The table was dead silent. You can feel the awkwardness down your back, and you only blame yourself for it. You didn’t know Jungkook. And you and Jimin aren’t talking to each other whatsoever. So, the ball is out of the park. You pick up your tray and begin getting ready to sit back at your own table.

“Yah! What are you doing ?” Taehyung asks.

“This is weird. I’m leaving.” You say over your shoulder. Not bothering to look back from the protest you knew he was going to start.

Taehyung watches you leave and frowns. “I don’t know what to do anymore.” He turns back to his friends feeling completely helpless. “I get that she’s playing hard to get, but it’s starting to piss me off.” He groans.

“Here’s a solution; give up.” Jimin smiles brightly.

Taehyung rolls his eyes in annoyance, and begins thinking, something he usually doesn’t do. Maybe he might really give up. You were giving off mixed signals to him and he’s not sure what to do at this point.

“Also, did it ever occur to you that’s she’s just not interested, and probably never will be.” Jimin continues to taunt the poor boy.

Jungkook nudges his friend, implying that he should stop before he gets Taehyung angry. Which is already seen all over the boy’s face. “She’s just so difficult. One of the many things I like about her.” Taehyung sighs, laying his head against the table.

“Then don’t give up on her. Just keep trying. You’ll get there,” Jungkook tried to reassure him, as Jimin in result. “Your so lovesick,”

Taehyung’s eyes widen when he looks at Jimin. That word. Taehyung couldn’t say he was lovesick. He wanted to see your face everyday, hear you voice; even if it was just to curse at him. He would even appreciate you just ignoring him, it all didn’t matter. He just wanted to spend every single second with you.

“I don’t love anybody,” He found himself saying.

“Right, whatever you say.” Jimin chuckles to himself. “Almost four months now of crushing on Y/N, and your still in denial.”

“Do me a favor and shut up,” Taehyung groans. He didn’t need to hear all this shit right now. His frustration was honestly draining him. He couldn’t help but let his eyes wander to across the lunchroom, just to look at you.

“I kinda feel bad for him.” Your best-friend starts to say to you. “He’s like a dog, and your the ball. He can’t catch you because you just keep rolling.”

“Great analogy,” You say sarcastically, earning a hard eye roll.

“I think your being too hard on him. He tries so much, and your just giving — nothing!” She tries to tell you. You didn’t know where this was going exactly, but you were definitely not going to let Taehyung have his way. And again, you weren’t looking for a relationship.

“I don’t really care, Y/F/N. Plus, it’s fun watching him obsess over me.” You smirk.

“Your playing him in his own game, Y/N!” She tells you.

You look at her with confusion. You were in no acting like Taehyung. He was an asshole, you are an asshole on some occasions, but nothing like him. He’s cocky, mischievous; a fuckboy in the making. He’s also gentle and really nice. And you liked the way he acts all shy and adorable around, making sure to not tick you off as much as he use to do. Woah, you thought. Why were you thinking of him like this?

“Hello Y/N, are you back now.” Your friend ask, snapping her fingers in front of you face to bring you back. “Huh, oh. Yeah, what did you mean, playing at his own game.”

“Your clearly leading him on. And I fear in the end he’s the one that will be broken this time around.” She tells you.

You scoffed listening to the utter bullshit. “Listen, Y/F/N. That is Kim Taehyung. He’s rich, he’s cute, he’s got it easy. Guys like that, never care about a single thing. That’s just the way it is,” Just then the bell rang, signaling for the next class. “See you later,” You say, getting and throwing away your trash.

And just like that the day went on. But you knew, not a day goes by that Taehyung will be with you.

“Hey, Y/N. You hungry?” Taehyung says from behind you.

You waited to answer until he approached right next to you. “I’m kinda craving ice cream.” You say, having been the first thing that came to your mind. Taehyung clasp his hands together, and smiled. “Cool let’s go, I know a place.” He tells you and starts walking. Though you didn’t follow him, you stood still for a second, before feeling some push you.

Luckily, you didn’t fall, only stumbles forward. Whipping you head around, turning to see Y/F/N. “What are you waiting for, go!” She says.

“I am! I’m not turning down free ice cream.” You answer her and began following Taehyung, who waits down the block for you.

“So, how are you?” He asks, making conversation.

You sigh, adjusting your heavy bag full of books. “A little stressed. We have a lot of test next week.”

Taehyung turns to you making a horrified face saying - what test? You laugh at him and shook your head. He noticed your distraught with your bag and takes it off your back. He then puts his arm through the straps so the bag rest on his chest.

“No it’s—thank you,” You mumble the last part.

“Well, I hope you don’t stay up late studying, and get lots of rest. And you better be eating properly, not like little snacks and other stuff. Like proper meals.” He says to you, voice full of concern. You scoff. “Have you met me? My whole life is school.”

“Doesn’t have to be,” He tells. As the two of you make the corner, you appear to ice cream shop. Usually being packed up with little kids and their mothers. “You may not think so, but I on the other hand, have goals.” You say to him. The both of you entered the shop, and Taheyung immediately sat straight into a booth by the window.

“Tell me all about them when I get our ice creams.” He says, placing the bags on top of the table and running off to the counter.

You shake your head as he runs off. Suddenly the vibration of your phone in your bag made you dig inside and get it out. It was a from Y/F/N.

Y/F/N : how’s the date going ?

You : not a date. and it’s ok

Y/F/N : oh so then it is a date

You : i’m going to put my phone away

After you did just that, Taheyung appeared with two ice cream bowls in his hand. You eyes widen, because you recognized the one in his right and. Which he placed in front of you. It was your favorite. “Oh my god, I can hug you right now.” You bounced in your seat excitedly.

Tahyung’s arms suddenly spread wide. In which you ignored because you were devouring the ice cream. “Sit down. I’ll do it later.” You say, mouth full of ice cream. He laughs and sits down across from you.

“Okay, so hit me with the list.” He says.

You furrow your eyebrows and realized what he was talking about. “Truthfully, I have to get into a good law school. So, I’m working my ass off.” You said.

“What do you mean have too? You don’t have to do anything.”

“That’s true, but it’s what my mom wants.”

“But what do you want?”

You roll your eyes and ate your ice cream. Wondering why he wanted to talk about this. You assume he didn’t care. “What about you?” You ask.

“All I want is for you to be my girlfriend. And I’m certainly working my ass off.” Taehyung says with no hesitation.

God, you couldn’t believe how blunt this boy was to you. “Academically Taehyung.” You say.

“That doesn’t matter to me at the moment. It’s just you.” He says with a sly smile.

Why did your heart beat 100 times faster then it’s suppose too? You shouldn’t be nervous. He flirts with you everyday. You should be use to it. So why were you feeling like this now. You hate it. You hate it so much. “Ugh, why are you like this?” You ask agitatedly.

“It’s just my feelings, Y/N. Why are you like that?” He retorted back.

“Because that’s just how I am.” You spat back.

“You know what I think. I think you don’t want to admit to your own feelings. Your afraid that I’ll hurt you. And I can assure you Y/N, I’ll never hurt you.” He says to you. The look in his eyes said so much. But you were trying not fall for it. They always say I’ll never hurt you, and end up doing exactly that in the end. You were tired of it, which is why you distance yourself from everything.

“Taehyung, you how know I feel. You know exactly how I feel about you,” You said.

“No, I don’t Y/N. Because one day you put up with my shit, all smiling and happy. And the next day, you could care less about me.” He voice raises.

Ouch, you thought.

“Maybe that’s my way of telling you to just stop trying.” You mumble.

Taehyung frowns, and his eyes drop with it. You felt a hit in your chest. Were you too harsh? Was that taking it too far? So many things were going through your mind right now, that you didn’t even notice Taehyung was grabbing his bag and leaving.

And just like that; you were hurt.

ok, sooooo sorry for the long ass wait. teachers decided to give so much work over the break. so I was kinda lacking writing ideas. hope it wasn’t shitty and you like it. also sorry about mistakes if there’s any. i’ll really try to do better. also my ask box is open so you know what to do. tell me things and ask me stuff if you wanna know me better!

327 notes · View notes

johnwaterstrike · 7 years

Text

A Brother of Brothers (Day 2)

(Hours would pass by as they steadily fell into complete stillness and silence. To others, they might have looked like a statue as their heart rate dropped and beat slowly, breathing shallowed and metabolism lowered. They had reached another state between conciouness and unconciouss as the both of them met each other between the bridge of the mind. Their aether gave signs of activity, being the only thing that showed life as their work brought them through the next few suns. Every memory mixed and was emparted, every thought was gained and the two brothers allowed themselves to let go of their identities to become one person. The moments that this happened, their aether became the most active as it pulsed and became alive.)

John had just finish tempering the choclate, the berry filling cooling in a bowl, and had been setting up the modes when he felt it. His began to tingle as there was a faint pulse of aether, follow by another, and another. Each of them becoming stronger, more alive in the vibrations. He was on his feet, rushing over to Sizha, and holding out his hands, feeling the vibration of his aether against his fingers. "Sizha...little brother..."

Sizha was unresponsive except for the aether pressing outward against Johns hands. It seemed to be in the midst of trying to readjust and fix itself which caused it to create an irregular path.

"Come on, Siz...I know you can do it. Remember what I said, little brother. You come back as yourself, I'll have a surrprise for you." John said. "Just a little more, Brother, you can do it."

Sizhas aether began to reduce slowly to a more even level...back to a heart beat pulse. This would last over the next two suns until it ebbed away and became like a calm line. The world slowly returned...light and sound became real again and his body awakened. The first sign was a light gasp of air as he tried to move but there were signs of mild atrophy in his muscles from the suns of unuse. This room,these smells...where was he...what happened..? He was just confused and lost at that moment.

John had added more wood to the fire, recheck the supplies, and made sure the chocolate tuffles were still being keep chill. Right now, his head was pillow on his arms, his breathing even in sleep, and quill lax in his hands. Under his head was a partly written letter to Howl, explaining that Sizha's aether had become the pattern of a heartbeat but there had been no sign of him awakening yet. On the other side of the table was the drawing he had done, ink dry, and a box setting in a small cluster of Ice shards. "little brother...wake...soon..." he mutter in his sleep.

Sizha stared over at the sound of snoring to see John sitting...or rather laying at the table with the letter under his hands. He dragged himself forward, trying to ignore a growing headache but he wanted to see if maybe this person had answers. They were familiar to look at and observe until he noticed the letter he had been writing. Squinting at it, he would read over it until the memory was dusted off and came back to him slowly. He pressed a hand to Johns shoulder and tried to shake him awake.

"five min..." John burying his face in his arms. Another shake to his shoulder began to draw him into the waking world, and blurry eyes open to stare at mismatch ones. He blink for a moment as his sleepy brain caught up to who was looking at him and he was on his knees, catching Sizha in a hug. "By the Twelve," he said, "I was afraid you weren't going to wake up, Little Brother."

Sizha smiled as he was hugged by him and made sure to hold him as he was shivering a bit, trying to stay upright. He couldn't help a few tears falling down his cheeks from relief of finding familiarity in the moment and someone that was here. There were things he wanted to say but it was still too soon for him to be able to think so perfectly so he remained silent and just tried to calm at Johns side.

John could feel him shivering against him. He pull back, holding his hand against Sizha's heart. "Twelve, your aether is weak, Sizha. Hold on, this is going to come in handy." Holding the younger one against him, he reach up for the box, knocking the drawing off the table as he pull the box to him, and set it on the floor. He flip the lid open, revealing white and milk chocolate tuffles, "The sugar in them should help stabilize your aether, little brother."

His ears perked to the sight of the sweets ad mouth watered. They looked delicious and he loved sweets anyway. Tilting himself, he tried to grab a truffle but also noticed that something had fallen down from the table...that being the drawing. "...?"

John notice the that Sizha was looking at the drawing he had done. "Ah, you had just went into mediation and I was checking your aether to make sure everything was settling and well." He blush, "I decided to draw you and then I drew 'you' both and how your aether was mixing." He reach down and pick up one of the white chocolate tuffles. "Here, eat..."

Sizha nodded a little and accepted the truffle to eat, still staring at the paper. It felt odd to look at but he couldn't pin point the emotion. There may have been a look of concern in his eyes as he thought through it, ears moving slowly.

"Hey, it work, little brother. You and Ahzi are one now." he said, mistaking the concern and silence. "I can feel it in your aether. Though for a moment there, your two aether mixing was so strong, it was offsetting the rhythm of your aether." He pull him into another hug, "But I knew you two could pull it together to become one again."

He couldn't help smiling at his optimism. After all, he had been there waiting and taking care of him through the process and it touched him to be called little brother. An echo of it resonated in his mind, catching on another thought nearly forgotten. For the moment, he let it slip and just focused on hugging John back. He was right after all. It had been successful but it left him oddly...lonely. Had John not been there, waking up would have been worse.

John didn't want to give him too much sugar knowing how many days it had been since Sizha had eaten. "Only a couple more, just so I know your aether is stable. I'll see about fixing something proper for you to eat. Then you need to rest, since your mind had to do a lot of work to fit back together." Slipping out from the hug, he went over pulling out the last few items, already working out that a soup would be best, and began to set up a pot with water and peas and tomatoes, cutting up the chicken to add to the pot once everything was boiling. "It'll take a little bit for this to be ready, so if you want to, try and get some sleep. I'll wake you when it gets done."

Sizha didn't need to be told twice that a nap was probably best. His body and mind were both exhausted and he did like the idea of there being food upon waking up next. As John left his side, he crawled himself over to a bed nearby and curled up on it, dropping rather quickly into sleep.

The scent of chicken soup drifted through the air a half bell later. He call Kit out of her book. "Go and wake up Sizha. The soup ready. Oh, if he's sore, can you help him with that." Kit nods, fluttering over to Sizha. 'Siz...wake up,' she said, poking his nose. 'John got soup ready so wakey, wakey.'

Sizha jolted a bit from his rest, wincing. He was a bit sore, yes , but it had really come from being awoken from a dream. He caught his breath as he eyed the fairy, blinking at the bright light it gave off. "...?" He would reach over to try to hold her as if fascinated.

Kit gave an epp sound as Sizha's hand close on her body. 'Bad, Siz,' she said, slapping his thumb around her waist gentle. 'Not Saiya, Kit.' she added before frowning at him. John's little brother was acting not right. 'Know Saiya?' she ask, which cause John's ears to tilt at her question as he sat the bowls on the table.

He blinked, ears perking and then flattening. Saiya...that name. It was familiar but foggy. He tried to apologize but his voice hitched, caught and nothing came out, no sound. He gasped noiselessly as he stared. "...!"

'JOHN!' she said, panic sounding in her voice. 'Siz...' and try to work her way out of the hold he had on her. John drop the spoon, already running over the the pair. "What's wrong, Kit. Is he not waking..." and he watch his little brother gasping but there was no sound. "Sizha...little brother, what's wrong, are you having trouble breath?" Kit shook her head. 'No...no, think he doesn't remember Saiya.' which made John stare at her then over to Sizha's book. "Sizha...I want you to take slow and deep breaths, ok. I and Kit are here and Saiya is with you as well. You remember Saiya, right?"

He was silent...completely silent. He looked confused and thus sat there, unable to figure out where his thoughts were. Which one was right? He began to tremble but Johns words caught him and he latched onto it, breathing. Lifting his hand, he indicated that the name rung a bell.

Worry cross John's face as Sizha still didn't say anything but he caught the hand that was lifted. "Saiya is like Kit, remember. She one of her people but she is also your partner." He reach out, rubbing behind his ear. "You remember who I am, right?"

Sizha looked up at him and slowly nodded, indicating the both of them with his free hand. While he has no idea what signal to use for it, he thinks brother. It also helped that he heard it earlier, read the note and had it further confirmed by short term memory.

"I don't like the fact you're so quiet, Sizha." he said. "Ok, I'm going to say some names and you tell me if you remember them, ok?" He waited for him to say yes. "I can also get your book so you can call Saiya to you, if you feel better to have her with you as well."

He nodded after a moment of hesitation, a touch nervous. "...." It was a yes to both since he pointed to Kit.

"Ok, I'll be back in a moment." He stood up, going over to their supplies, and getting Sizha's book. "Saiya, I really hope you can figure out what going on," he murmurs to the book, grabbing the quill and ink off the table. "Alright, let me help sit you up." he says, reaching over to help keep Sizha balance until he was sitting with his back against the headboard. "Ok, here's the book and ink. Let get Saiya here before I start calling off names."

Sizha looked down at the ink and quill. It felt natural for him to hold it like this but what made it work again...? He opened it and looked over the shapes, seeing the many times it had been used, as if it were a guide. Guiding his own hand along the geometry, he began the spell and called forth Saiya in a burst of light. It took her a moment but she blinked, realzing John was there and Kit...but it soon became apparent that they were concerned with something. She was about to question it when she noticed Sizhas aether and she quickly turned to him, staring. Sizha was staring back at her, hand still over the book. ".....??" Saiya fluttered over closer slowly, staring hard into Sizhas eyes.

"Kit, can you see if Saiya might know what is going on... why he hasn't said a word yet to us." Kit nods, looking over at Saiya. <'Saiya, something not right. Siz hasn't spoken and he seems like he doesn't remember. Not sure what's wrong?'> It wasn't the first time John wish that he knew what the pair might be talking about. "Ok, Sizha. Do you remember Khyran?" he ask, hoping names might help his little brother."

Sizha shook his head as Saiya heard Kit and glanced to Sizha. She looked deeply into him as she strengthened their connection to try to get an answer. <.....The memories....they're mixed in, not in an order his mind understands. He seems to be in temporary shock from it but it doesn't look permanent. HIs voice....he isn't talking...?> Saiya waived to Sizha to get his attention and tried to coax him into saying something. Sizha tilted his ears back and tried to speak but nothing happened...just air. Saiya blinked and squinted at him. <....? He's lost his voice.>

John bite his lip after Kit told him what Saiya had said. "Oh no." He hadn't expected that to happen. "Ok, um, oh, you remember Etienne right? And don't worry, Sizha, I'm sure that your voice will come back to you. We'll just have to give it a little time, alright?" He snap his finger. "Oh, I bet you remember your older brother? G'azierth?"

Sizha folded his ears a little bit. "......." He had awoken from a dream about Gazierth. Saiya noticed his train of thought and shook her head. <That wasn't a dream...that was a memory he had. It's a good sign though. He's working to put the peices together. It may just take a bit. He'll need things to jog his memory but he will heal.> Sizha looked up to her as if he could sense her words (even though she wasn't speaking in a way he could understand.). "....?" To Johns question he nodded, rubbing his head. He knew the name Gazierth and it had dug up a feeling.

"Well, we have to find a way around the not talking until you're better...hm," he said, standing up, and ruffling his hair. He took a few moment to search his bag for extra paper. "Hm, this should help until we can get you up and back to the mansion." Kit smile as she realize what John was planning. <'Can't talk but can still write. Not voiceless, Saiya.'> she said, wanting to let her friend know that her partner could still communicate with them. "Here, little brother. Anything you feel like you need to tell me, write it on these, ok. Ok, don't force it but the dream, what do you remember of it. Do you remember why G'azierth is important to you?" If they could start on Sizha's older brother, the three of them could help him build on from that. He smile as Kit pass on the questions to Saiya. "We'll probably need you most of all Lady Saiya. You have a better understanding of what may have happen to Sizha."

Sizha looked at the paper and started to write after a moment. It took him a bit as Saiya watched him curiously. <....He was born in a state like this....with two minds. Even if both were willing, it still must have strained them both. I imagine his body is trying to cope....> Sizha raised the paper to John. [If you're talking about my dream, I saw the man named Gazierth in my dream out in the woods. I was asking him to come back. I kept asking him to call me brother again and that I missed him. But when he was about to answer, I saw these black hands reach up and surround him. I tried to free him from them but they were pulling him away and I couldn't speak.] He shakes his head and writes again. [Does it have something to do with me...?]

He look to Kit as she told him what Saiya had said. "I misjudge then on when the two were seperate but that fits even more with how Nala and Thal are." He settle onto his knees, tapping his finger against his chin. "We'll treat what happening like a head injury, Lady Saiya. Go light on his head, just enough to ease any headaches. The two aethers are trying to find balance and I don't want to take the chance of messing it up." He look over at the paper Sizha had raise up at him as Kit pass on what John said to the other fairy. "Hm, the woods could be the Black Shroud but could the hands... no," he mutter, thinking back on what Sizha had wrote about the dream and adding in what Saiya had said as well. Then he saw what Sizha had added and it made sense to him then. "No, it wasn't really you, in a way." he said, touching Sizha's ear. "Saiya said that you were born with two minds, like Nala'Thal. I think Gazierth, your brother, might have realize something and well, he might have been afraid because he didn't understand what was going on and probably didn't know how to help you." He didn't want to 'Dream Sizha's memories until he knew that his little brother's aether and mind wouldn't break apart.

Sizha stared at the paper for a while before he wrote again. [..I feel a compulsion. Both to him and someone else....I feel these connections drawing me but I don't know who or why. Can you help me...brother...?] Saiya watched John then Kit and then Sizha, nodding. <Yes...the two brothers are like Nald and Thal...were, but now they are Nald'thal...just...trying to find out who Nald'thal /is/ and what that means for them....>

John nods, "Ok, I should be able to help with this." He thought a moment, remembering from a while ago about what Sizha told him about Gazierth change his body. "Ok, so try to picture G'azierth in your mind. When you have him, try to tell me what he looks like." He smile at him. "You don't have to draw him out unless you want too. Just write down what he looks like and then, if you can, try to do the same with the other person that you feel a connections too."

Sizha began to answer slowly as he wrote. [It was...a miqote. Brown hair...a seeker...green eyes....he held a lance on his back.] He nodded at John. [You’re here...and I’m ok...but...the others...a man and a woman...and...another man. If I think of the first man, my chest hurts....]

"Ok, the miqo'te with Brown hair. That is your brother." He waited, trying to work up how to go about this. "The man and woman, they looked sort of like you and the brown hair miqo'te, yes?" He had an idea on why Sizha might be hurting. "So, can you tell me what the other person look like, if you can see him in your head."

Sizha seemed to be caught in the memory for a second as he began to remember the resemblences. Something about his brother had been different, however...there was a change wasn't there..? He stared at the paper as he shifted his thought back to the other person. It felt urgent, as if trying to call them back was neccesity but it remained on the edge of his tongue. Saiya noticed and waved at him. <Sizha...the bag. THere's something in there.> Sizha looked up to her in confusion before she pulled a small bag on his hip over to him and pointed. <Open it.> He obeyed and pulled it open, letting the contents tumble into his hand. A lone elezen silver ear clasp fell into his palm and he looked over the details of it curiously. He knew it definately couldn't fit his ear without alterations so he hadn't worn it before. Therefore, it wasn't his. But he had seen it before, multiple times. Then it began to come to him: silver eyes, dark skin like midnight....he trembled a bit in worry but the sense didn't leave him. [An elezen man...] He wrote, starting to feel how many things were tied up with this and wanting to breathe.

"An Elezen man...Etienne, it has to be." He reach out to close his hand around Sizha. "You did this for him because you both care about each other very much." John just hope that it was enough of a foundation to start helping Sizha build his memories on.

Sizha was staring at the clasp and then the paper. "....." He began to write again, leaning against John for comfort. [I need to find these people...do I have a home...? This isn't the place is it?]

"No, we're here because you needed a place that was quiet so you could become yourself instead of Sizha and Ahzi." He pull him into a hug, "I couldn't like my little brothers face that alone so I can to watch over the two of you while you both became one person." He pet one of Sizha's ears. "Yes, you do have a home and the rest of Aethertide are waiting for you to come back home. But you need to recover your strength and that means food. Do you need help getting to the table?"

He nodded a bit but Saiya eyed him. She smiled softly to Sizha with a nod. <I'll help him, so don't worry. We'll have him moving around again. He'll need it.>

John stood up from the floor, gathering up the contents of the bag, then help to move Sizha's legs over the edge of the bed. "Kit, Saiya, can you to do faint pulses of aether on his right leg, and I'll see to his left." Kit flutter over to the right leg. <'Small brust along leg,'> she told Saiya. <'It will help blood flow better.'> Once the trio was done with Sizha's legs, John wrap his arm around Sizha's chest, holding against him, until he was sure that he had his leg under him. "Slow and steady. The soup should be cool off enough for you to eat it."

Sizha moved slowly but was able to stand with their help and nodded. He did want to eat and he was grateful for what John had made for him.

"Easy," he said, helping Sizha to sit in the chair. "I figure that it would be easier on your stomach with something light." He move the bowl a little closer so Sizha would have to reach for it the went to his pack and pull out the apply slices. "Here you two go. Eat up." Kit giggle, diving for one of the slices, and pulling it out of the box. "We can head out for Gridania once you eat and get a room in the inn tonight, so we can head out on the airship in the morning. But if you don't feel up to traveling, we can stay the night and catch the airship later tomorrow morning back to Lisma."

Sizha began to eat as he watched Saiya and Kit. He hadn't let go of the clasp and he took his time eating. Silent as he was, he considered Johns words. Truthfully, even if he felt strange and disjointed, he wanted to go back as soon as he could. He knew it was best to get his feet under him and the idea wouldn't stop bugging him. Staying here wouldn't do any good. He raised his eyes to John as he paused eating and indicated that he wanted to write.

John look up from the bowl of soup, seeing the hand motion Sizha was making. "Need to tell me something." Taking another quick sip of soup, he stood up to go and retrieve the paper and ink from the bed. He place the items on the table and went back to his chair so he could finish eating.

Sizha bowed his head in thanks before he started to write again, Saiya sitting beside Kit as they munched on the apple slices. The paper was then lifted, careful of the bowl, so John could read. [We'll go after we eat. Since Saiya can heal, I think I'll be ok. I don't want to wait much longer to return.] There was a flicker of determination and strength in his eyes. He wanted to figure all of this out and fix it. It was stuck in his head. Fix it all.

John look worried at Sizha. "Sizha...little brother, are you sure. You just came out of your mediation only a few bells ago. I know your eage..." he trail off before whisper at the strength focus on him. "Ahzi..." No and yes because the determination was pure Sizha as well. He shook his head, a chuckle. "You two kept your words..." he murmur. "Alright, you finish up eating while I pack up what are left of the supplies." He lifted his bowl as he drain the last of the soup. He then set about packing up the supplies while Sizha finish eating.

Saiya fluttered to Sizhas shoulder and rested there as he finished eating. He put the clasp back into his pocket and drained the last of the soup before standing up carefully. Since he didn't bring a lot with him, he was already ready to leave...he just waited for John quietly.

Most of the items were supplies that just needed to be repack into the boxes and then into the pack and saddlebags that would fit on Safire's back. The only things left was to clean up the bowls they ate out of and put out the fire in the fireplace. "Ok, Kit, I need that," he said, picking up the bag of apple slices. 'Awww...' John shook his head. "Don't awww me, Kit. You can have some more when we're on the airship." He lifted the saddlebag, fitting it over his shoulder, and scoop up his pack. "You can ride Safire, if you didn't bring your Chocobo with you, Sizha." He came up beside him, ready to help in any way that he could.

Sizha got up with a little support from John. He didn't remember if he had brought a chocobo but he assumed that he hadn't...it didn't feel like he did. He shrugged to him with a small grin.

Once John made sure that they were out of the cabin, he gave a sharp whistle, which call Safire from the river, "Ok, I need you to be gentle with him Saf." he said. "He's a wounded soldie... OUCH, Safire, watch the break." The chocobo had come down on his head, before giving him a 'I know what to do, chick' look. "I swear, Sizha, he is well manner." Leaving Sizha on the deck, he sets up the saddlebags on Safire, strapping Sizha own small bag on it, and then helps him onto Safire. "Alright, we're on our way."

Sizha smiles at the bird and then in general, thanking the bird silently. Nervous as he was, he knew he belonged back where they originated . His grip on the reigns and chocobo remained tight.

The travel to Gridania was silent but it was a good silent. John would look up from where he was walking beside the chocobo, making sure that Sizha didn't seem to be straining to stay on Safire. Once they arrive in Gridania, he stop by the Chocobo porter. "Please make sure that Safire is on board and comfortable on the next available airship to Lisma." He watch the porter hand off the chocobo to a porter-in-training before he wrap his arm around Sizha's waist, leading him carefully to where the airship counter was. "Two tickets please to Lisma."

Sizha looked up at John, wondering about bits of the past. The longer he stayed around him, he seemed to remember the selfless actions before. It was comforting even though he desired to be able to operate on his own soon. Eventually, it would be possible again and he knew that.

The airship pull into the deck, allowing him, Sizha, and others board the ship. He settle Sizha on one of the benches and gave a smile. "It'll be a while before we get to Lisma so if you want to get some more sleep while we travel." John look out over the side of the ship, enjoying seeing the land from this height, and how peaceful the world could be.

@sizhatonaz

#ffxivrp #Sizha'to N'az #John Waterstrike #ffxiv

2 notes · View notes