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lonely-lost-soul · 3 years

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Immortality and Nymphs Pt. II

(Philza x reader)

Kisses. God Phil missed your kisses against his skin most of all, you were always so warm and gentle. He couldn’t wait for you to be a constant in his life once again, he walked all three of you back to his home. Wilbur was eyeing you the entire time almost like he was trying to find the differences between himself and you, thinking, The boy looked much more like himself than he did you, but there were tiny similarities here and there. You didn’t seem to mind though when he asked you questions you answered them truthfully. Once they arrived back at his house Wilbur stood up a little straighter,

“As much as I’d like to stay and talk more, Fundy and I need to get going.” He trailed off a little looking at you, “I still have thousands of questions but I have a revolution to plan.” Wilbur continued as you raised a questioning eyebrow, Phil’s wings ruffled a little as he cleared his throat.

“You should come back next week with the others.” Phil gave a slight nod of his head, “I’ll send a crow to Techno.” Fundy was the one to whip his head and nod eagerly, Wilbur adjusted his glasses but eventually nodded.

“That should work.” Wilbur turned to face you taking a shaky breath, “I’ll see you then?” A tender smile spread across your lips as you reached out to cup Wilbur’s cheeks.

“I’m not going anywhere again baby boy,” You whispered as he flushed hesitantly leaning into your touch “I promise.” He pulled away, clearing his throat taking Fundy’s hand as he waved.

“Bye, grandpa! Bye, grandma!” The fox hybrid called and Phil watched as you flushed deeply. Phil wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close, his wings spreading around your body like a cocoon. You giggled softly as he nuzzled his face into your neck, his beard prickled your skin, you missed the feeling.

“Fundy seems sweet,” You mused as the man behind you kissed the skin of your neck. Phil only hummed in agreement which caused you to laugh, “you’re so not paying attention to what I’m saying are you?”

“What?” You burst into laughter at his genuine confusion, “Come on now. I missed you, can you blame me? You’re distracting.” Phil let out a little huff as you pulled away to face him,

“Then show me how much you missed me my crow,” You purred running your fingers through his feathers, you felt his entire body shiver as his breathing hitched. His fingers dug into your hips,

“Careful. They’re sensitive and wouldn't want a pretty thing like you to get hurt.” Phil teased pressing his forehead against yours,

“Oh, I remember.” You winked teasingly as Phil leaned in to swallow your words with a blistering kiss. He felt you melt against his body as his wings fluffed up, both of you poured all your love and admiration for each other into one another. It was then Phil knew nothing changed between the two of you even after all these years apart, there was still the same amount of love and longing you always shared. Phil lifted you into the air and you hooked your legs around his waist, he felt young again, back in the forest by his old home. He felt you giggle against his lips and pull away to rest your forehead on his own, he chased your lips almost desperately. Your hand came up to cup his cheek and he closed his eyes to lean into his palm, “Take me inside first.” You murmured and his eyes lit up mischievously.

“If I remember correctly you never had a problem with making out in the woods before.” He watched your face turn beat red as he smirked proudly, he adored getting you flustered which way to Sunday.

“Yeah well, I’ve lived in the woods all my life. I think I’m ready to stay with my adoring lover in his house, is that really such a bad thing?”

“No. I’d never be opposed to something like that, not when I’ve missed you this much. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, living with you and raising Wilbur, being a family.” He watched you visibly wince and guilt ebbed at his heart, “Hey, hey you had to do what you needed to. I’d rather have you alive and here now than dead or worse.” Phil reassured and you seemed to relax a little bit in his arms,

“I wish I could’ve been here to raise Wilbur with you...I wish I could’ve seen him grow up.” Your voice wavered a little as Phil pulled you close, he hesitated slightly trying to find the right words to say.

“I wish you were there too. But you’re here now, you’re safe and that’s what matters. Plus…” His cheeks flushed a soft pink, “we could always try again.”

“Jesus Christ Phil,” you giggled covering your mouth with your hands and he looked embarrassed. “I just got home Crow, let's give it some time. But...I’m not opposed in the future.” Phil’s face lit up again and he nodded rapidly, he could agree with that, maybe once you built a better relationship with Wilbur and his other boys that’s when the both of you could try again.

Oh god, the other boys. When he invited them all here next week, he hoped they’d make a good impression if not Dadza was going to craft a belt.

“How long has it been since you’ve had an actual meal?”

“God decades!”

He chuckled deeply, kissing your cheek, and led you into his house to have a nice warm meal. Having you around definitely took some getting used to, his days suddenly shifted around as he accommodated for another person but he didn’t mind. Phil woke up happier than he'd felt in a long time, you were curled up against his chest, the top of your head was right under his chin. He ran a hand through your (h/c) hair, letting it run through his fingers, even though it’s been about a week he still felt like you weren’t really beside him.

Wait a week.

His eyes snapped open and he shot up like a rocket, feathers flying everywhere as you groaned, “Crow? Everything alright?” You asked adorably rubbing your eyes, his stress melted away momentarily as he watched you wake up. A few flowers bloomed in your hair as you came to your senses.

“Everythings fine! Just remembered it’s Sunday and the others don’t usually follow set times.” He pulled you from the bed giving you a quick good morning peck on the lips. “Get dressed, something nice I wanna show you off,” He kissed you again longer this time you giggled.

“To who? Our son and your friends?” He gave a happy little nod, as you rolled your eyes, he felt your fingers fix the hair on his face, Phil closed his eyes and leaned against your touch. “But I’ll do as you wish my Crow,” You stood up from the bed and stretched your arms above your head. Phil had managed to get some clothes for you from a nearby village, he still remembered your style, but tried to make it more modern so you didn’t stick out like a sore thumb. You slid on the new clothes, they hung off you loosely. They clearly needed some tailoring, and you slid on the boots he got you the day before, as much as you like walking around barefoot it was pretty impractical.

“Shall we?” Phil held his arm out to you, you wrapped your arm around his own as he led you outside. You both stood on a hillside covered in soft green grass and a big willow tree. Phil looked down at you, his big wings gently covering your back from any danger, he was sure not feeling the grass between your feet was a foreign feeling to you but you didn’t seem to mind. The smile on your face said it all, you were peaceful and relaxed, letting the breeze flow through your hair. “You’re beautiful,” your eyes snapped up to him your cheeks turning light pink,

“Oh stop it old man.” He made an indignant sound as you laughed, your hands reached up and dragged him down to your level, kissing him tenderly. Phil felt his eyes flutter closed and his wings drop, he was snapped back to reality by loud whistling. You pulled back and he pushed you behind him, wings puffing up defensively, standing on the side of the hill were Wilbur, Tommy, Technoblade, and Fundy. Tommy was the one whistling eyes sparkling mischievously, Wilbur whacked him on the back of the head to get him to shut up.

“Dad! Wil’s being mean to me!”

“Don’t be mean to Tommy Wil,” Phil pressed his fingers to his nose with a sigh “Wilbur don’t antagonize your brother.” Fundy was cackling at their mischief, your eyebrows shot up on your forehead and Phil cleared his throat, face pink. Technoblade just stared seemingly eyeing you suspiciously, “(Y/n) these are my other sons. Boys this is (Y/n) Wilbur’s birth mother.” It was Technoblade’s turn for his eyebrows to raise and Tommy’s jaw dropped to the floor,

“No shit.” Tommy gawked, “You don’t look like her at all Wilbur! You’re so ugly, must’ve gotten that from Phil. Sad.” You burst into hysterical laughter watching Phil glare over at Tommy. Wilbur was seething at his sibling but ignored him in favor of giving you a light hug,

“Good to see you, mom.” He whispered,

“Good to see you too.” Phil heard you respond and hug him back, Wilbur whispered something to you and you made a little surprised face before nodding. Phil assumed he told you that the other boys were not in fact his biological children, but those he had adopted. Fundy soon joined in the hug snuggling into your stomach, you ruffled the young fox’s head and he chirped happily. Tommy walked over to introduce himself to you next, he proclaimed to be not only Phil’s favorite son but Wilbur’s favorite brother too. Which lead him to then boldly declare he’d be your favorite as well and Wilbur sent him a scathing look, ah yes, Phil knew that look rather well. Wilbur inherited that look from you, nose all scrunched up and eyes sharp. You shook the young boy's hand and happily told him you couldn't wait to see him fall into the number one spot. Wilbur shot you an offended look and Phil covered up a laugh with his hand, the offending look was sent to his father next,

“Dad.”

“What?” Phil laughed holding up his hands, “If he wants to win your mother’s attention I’m not gonna stop him. Every man for themselves.”

“Phil,” You nudged him with his elbow “be nice.” Tommy began to boast about how awesome he was in comparison to his brother, you sent a wink to Wilbur’s, and his shoulders visibly relaxed.

You were his number one, anyone with a brain could see that.

Phil noticed Technoblade had his eye on you the entire time, it took him much longer than the others to gain trust. He decided to walk away from you to stand by the hybrid's side, “Hey mate.” Technoblade only grunted in response, arms crossed over his broad chest protectively, “What’s crawled up your butt eh?”

“You didn’t tell me ‘bout her.” He motioned in your direction with his chin, “you tell me everything. Why not her?” Technoblade was trying to remain stoic but after all these years he could tell he was hurt. Phil sighed softly scratching the stubble on his chin as he watched Fundy run around you trying to fight for your attention.

“It was hard for me to talk about, she didn’t leave on her own free will. Her life was in danger and I didn’t know if I’d ever see her again. It was a shock when she came back last week, a good shock but a shock nonetheless. (Y/n) was my everything, is my everything. I kept it from everyone because I hoped it would keep her alive and safe from those who wished to harm her.” Phil looked over at Techno, for once Phil’s eyes showed his true age, “I’m sorry mate you know I would’ve told you if I could. Doesn’t take much for me to start gushing ‘bout her. I mean look at her.” Phil glanced back over at you, Fundy was on your shoulders, his hat on your head, meanwhile, Wilbur was wrestling with Tommy on the ground. You looked over at him desperate for his help and Phil only smiled over at you and shook his head. Your eyes screamed distressed as you tried to get the boys to stop fighting, Phil felt Techno’s eyes on him and he looked back at his son and friend.

“I understand I suppose,” Technoblade sighed rubbing the back of his neck, “You wanted to protect her. I can’t be mad at you for that, but no more secrets alright? Promise me?”

“Promise. Now go say hi to her before she gets upset and thinks you don’t like her,” Phil nudged him forward and his eyes widened a little,

“Heh? Phil hold on-”

“(Y/n)! This is Techno.” Phil clapped the man on the back, you looked up at him with a kind smile.

“Pleasure to meet you Technoblade, I like your cape.” Phil watched the man flush in embarrassment at the compliment,

“Eh...thanks. Like your flowers.” He motioned to the flowers blooming in your hair, you beamed brightly at him, always happy to talk about your flowers.

“Thank you, sweetie!” His ears turned red and he waved you off anxiously, he moved to peel Tommy away from Wilbur, wanting to get out of this conversation. Fundy hopped off your shoulders to tackle his father and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in, “wow. They’re…”

“A lot?”

“Yes.” You laughed fondly, “but…”

“I wouldn’t trade them for the world.” Phil nodded kissing you on the apple of your cheek,

“Good. You better not. They’re all my sons now. I hope you know that” You leaned against his chest, he laughed and you felt his chest rise and fall.

“I’d expect nothing less from you.”

Letters. That’s how most of you communicated in the years to follow, Wilbur would send letters and you would beam in delight. It melted Phil’s heart, he knew his son was busy with the revolution and the now Presidency but he wished he’d visit his mother. You would write him back almost immediately after receiving a letter, you’d seal the letter with a kiss before sending it off with one of Phil’s crows. Afterward, Phil would take you in his arms and pepper you in tender kisses, you would giggle and snuggle into his arms. He told you he loved you, and you cooed and told you loved him back, then you both would share a kiss. Phil loved those days the most, seeing you truly happy made his heart swell. There were days where Phil taught you how to fight, days where you would garden, and days where he let you groom his feathers. He loved that, grooming was another one of the things he missed the most, you got out all the tangled feathers just perfectly. He would lean back against your hands head falling on your shoulder as he panted, his pupils were blown wide as you hummed fondly.

So, maybe Phil enjoyed it a little more than he remembered.

It was a cold autumn day when the letters stopped coming, you were heartbroken, always anxiously petting and feeding his crows. They could sense your disappointment in waves, it was almost choking Phil himself, his heart ached to see you so sad. He pets your hair gently as you both sat on the hill with the willow tree, he noticed the bags under your eyes were dark, Phil’s frown only deepened.

“My love please smile for me, I’ve missed it so much these past few weeks.”

“Somethings wrong,” Your voice was soft looking up at Phil “He wouldn’t just stop writing to us. He always writes to us.” He hated the way your voice quivered, “what if he changed his mind about me?” Phil shushed you softly with a kiss,

“First of all, there’s no way he changed his mind about you. The way the both of you bonded these past few years, Wilbur wouldn’t throw that all away for no good reason.” He tried to reassure you, “Although, I will admit this is strange. Wilbur isn’t one to not write to me, it’s something he’s always done ever since he was old enough to spell.”

“Crow…” You whispered, “can we visit him? Just to put my mind at ease...please.” Phil’s heart melted as soon as he saw your puppy dog eyes, he nodded and you smiled.

Good. He was going to keep that there as long as he was physically able.

The next day, Phil scooped you up in his arms and you headed towards the direction of his son's new nation.

It was called L’Manburg if Phil remembered correctly.

What the both of you didn’t expect to see was a war zone, “Phil…” You murmured eyes wide in fear, he held you to his chest, your brow furrowed in worry. He swore he could see Tommy and Techno looking up at them from below, it didn’t ease the anxiety prickling at his skin, the sky suddenly went black with crows.

A bad omen, something bad was going to happen, and they knew it.

“Phil they’re distressed. Somethings wrong.”

“I know hon,” Phil looked around worriedly, he spotted a glance of Wilbur walking into some sort of room. He landed just outside the entrance, he put you on your feet, “Stay behind me.” He instructed you, you nodded your head clutching onto his bicep. The both of you stepped into the dimly lit room, there were scrawlings etched into the wall, all scratched in by Wilbur. Your brow furrowed in concern, fingers dancing across the lettering, “what’re you doing?” Phil spoke, his tone flat and serious, looking dead at your son, wings spreading out behind him.

“Wilby?” You asked softly as he slowly turned around, his big brown eyes were wet and wide.

“Mom…” He whispered, “I didn’t want…” Wilbur looked away from you and grit his teeth, “Welcome to L’manburg. Sorry, you have to see it like this, war-torn and broken. I wanted you to see it in its prime, a shame you didn’t visit sooner.”

“Wilbur, don’t do this,” Phil said watching his son look longingly at the button in the middle of the wall, almost with longing. “This is your country, it can be fixed. Things can be rebuilt, it’s where you raised your son,” Phil continued his entire body tense and nervous he was too aware of the sword on Wilbur’s hip. Phil reached out his hand as you walked towards Wilbur,

“Baby boy…” You whispered tenderly, vines slowly growing out of the cracks in the floor. “Don’t do this I only just got you back, please think about what you’re doing.” Wilbur’s brow furrowed watching you smile softly holding out your arm, “Everything will be alright I promise you. We can help you.” He let out a wet laugh running a hand through his brown curls, his pointed ears visible.

“It’s not the same nation anymore. There was a special place where people could go but it’s not there. It’s no longer the nation it once was Mom.”

“It is there. You've just- You've just won it back, Wil!” Phil spoke up in opposition to his son.

“MOM, Dad, I’m ALWAYS SO CLOSE to pressing this button, Phil! I've BEEN HERE like seven or eight times, I've been here seven or eight times...Phil, I've been here so many times…” All of you jumped a little at the sound of crackling fireworks outside, “They're fighting. They're fighting!” Phil and you glanced at one another, there was a beat of silence.

“And you want to just blow it all up, You fought so hard to get this land back... So hard.” You argued reaching out to cup his cheeks, he melted into your palms, snuggling into them like they were his last lifeline.

“I don't even know if it works anymore, Mom, I don't even know if the button works, I could, I could... press it.”

“Do you really wanna take that risk?” Phil laughed, “There is a lot of TNT potentially connected to that button.”

“Phil... There was a saying, Phil. By a traitor. Once part of L'Manburg. A traitor- I don't know if you've heard of Eret? He had a saying...It was never meant to be!” He tossed his hand back and slammed it against the button, you let out a devastating shriek pulling Wilbur into your arms to try and protect him from the blast. Phil felt pure adrenaline enter his bloodstream as he flew towards you and his son. His wings wrapped around the both of you and you whimpered, some of his feathers caught fire and he squeezed his loved one’s harder. Wilbur meanwhile let out a roaring cry “MY L'MANBURG, PHIL! MY UNFINISHED SYMPHONY, FOREVER UNFINISHED! IF I CAN'T HAVE THIS, NO-ONE CAN, PHIL!”

“Oh, my god…” Phil spoke, his voice quivering with horror, Wilbur looked down at you, hurt and pride swam in his eyes,

“Are you proud of me mama?” He whispered softly as your thumb caressed his cheeks, Phil glanced down at you ignoring the pain in his wing, your eyes were wet but you were still smiling.

It didn’t reach your eyes.

“I’ll always be proud of you Wilbur. I’m your mother, and I love you, I’ll always love you.” He let out a little cry, you were so genuine with him, your love was smothering him. Wilbur looked up at his father and grabbed his wrist,

“Kill me, Phil. Phil, kill me, Phil kill me!” Wilbur broke away from his hold and tossed his sword Phil’s way. Phil caught it in his arms the lines in his forehead creasing with worry, “Phil, stab me with the sword, murder me now, kill me! Killza, Killza, do it! Kill me, Phil! Murder me! Look, they all want you to! Do it, Phil! Kill me! Phil, kill me!”

“I- You're my SON!”

“Wilbur NO! PHIL DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!” You cried as Wilbur shoved you away from him, your growing distress caused vines to spill into the room, filling it with greenery, nature wanted to protect you.

“No matter what you- dude, no matter what you've done, I can't-” Phil’s voice cracked, his knuckles turning white against the hilt of the blade.

Wilbur slammed his fist against the wall, “Phil, it's- LOOK! LOOK! HOW MUCH WORK WENT INTO THIS, and it's GONE!” He grabbed Phil’s hand and shoved the point of the sword into his chest, “Do it. Do it.”

“PHIL!” You sobbed grabbing onto his other arm, eyes red and puffy, fat tears were running down your pink cheeks.

The man squeezed his eyes tightly, his throat closing up, he couldn’t look at you, he could feel the look of horror that was slowly spreading across your face.

“Phil. I’m begging you we can get him help, I can’t lose him. Not again, not when I’ve only just got him back.” You choked out, “he’s my baby. He’s our baby.” You were clinging to Phil desperately, your smile was gone, he failed you and he failed his own son.

“Do it, Dad.” Wilbur interrupted you, you let out a desperate cry and Wilbur shushed you softly, brushing away your tears. “It’s better this way,” Wilbur leaned down and kissed your forehead, “I love you and I forgive you.” He looked back at Phil and his disintegrating right-wing, guilt ate at him, “It’s time.”

Phil let out a deep breath, jaw tense and he felt you bury your head in his uninjured wing. He ran his sword through his son’s chest, Wilbur fell forward against the blade, he choked on the blood in his mouth, it flowed out of the corners and stained the front of his shirt. Phil felt you move to look but he covered your face with his wing once more, “Don’t look darlin’” He whispered as your sobs only increased, Wilbur slowly died in his arms with a smile on his face that would forever haunt Phil’s nightmares. He stroked Wilbur’s hair as he slowly faded out of existence, three lives completely snuffed out, Phil was part of giving him life and was the one to take his final one. Once Wilbur was gone you crumpled to the floor loud sobs echoing in the chamber, he fell beside you and wrapped you in his arms, you clutched his beanie to your chest.

“It’s alright. It’ll be okay.”

“Okay! Philza Minecraft how the FUCK is this gonna be okay!” You snarled in his arms but he only held you tighter, “Our son...our baby is dead.” You choked holding your hand to your mouth, the vines that had grown started dying feeding off your agony. “He’s gone…” You whimpered letting Phil caress your hair and plant kisses on the top of your head.

“We’ll get through this. I promise you.” He swore up to you cupping your cheeks within his hands, you sniffled a little and gave a small nod of your head. You were drained emotionally and physically, Phil’s heart ached in his chest.

“You’re hurt…”

“I’ll be alright,” He tried to stretch out his wings he flinched as pain shot up the right side of his body. Phil’s wing was charred to bits, you both knew the unspoken truth that he’d never fly like he once did, Wilbur wasn’t the only thing Phil would mourn.

“We need to set up a grave for him. Under the willow tree, I’ll plant yellow flowers. That way he can always be close to us so long as we live there,” You looked up at him eyebrows pinched so tight “Please.”

“You don’t need permission Darlin’.” He whispered to you resting his forehead against your own, “If that’s where you want it that’s where it’ll be.”

“Good.”

Phil slowly helped you to your feet, you weren’t injured, a few cuts and scrapes he took the majority of the damage from the explosion just like he had planned. He hissed as he tried to put pressure on his left ankle, “Fuck me. I’m too young to need a cane.”

“Eh,” You smiled weakly “Wouldn’t say that.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You giggled softly, your laughter significantly improved his mood, even if it was a minuscule adjustment. “We all can’t be as spry as you,”

“What can I say some of us have it and some of us don’t.” You smirked slightly hearing another loud explosion go off in the distance, “the Withers. Technoblade spawned them didn’t he?” Your eyebrows furrowed in thought and Phil gave a little nod,

“Most likely.”

“Our boys, they can’t do anything without explosions can they?” You shakily whispered and Phil couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh,

“Guess so,” He shrugged limply as you slipped Wilbur’s beanie on your head,

“What now?” You looked up at him through wet eyelashes, Phil caressed the back of your head,

“We go home, bury what’s left of Wilbur, and take a look at my wings to assess the damage.” Phil watched you nod numbly against him, “it’ll be a long walk back.” He groaned rubbing his eyes and you rubbed his back soothingly.

“Let me handle that,” You reassured and he raised an eyebrow the both of you moved to leave the structure neither one of you wanted to put up with anyone, you both had lost a son and wanted time to mourn. Plus, it seemed Tommy and Technoblade were busy fighting. Phil watched you with careful eyes allowing himself to lean against one of the trees that survived the explosion. You placed your fingers in your mouth and gently whistled, not only did a crow from a tree flutter by but a wandering horse as well, you really were an animal whisperer. The crow ruffled its feathers and cawed loudly at Phil, he shot the crow a look and flipped it off, meanwhile, you worked your magic taming the horse in a matter of moments. “Come here Crow,” You held as your hand and he fell into it, you helped him onto the horse and he shot you a look,

“I’m not riding on this horse with you walking on foot. Switch with me.” Phil tried to argue but you shushed him,

“You took an explosion to the back. Take a breather, relax, nature helps me heal anyway.” You hummed fondly as he slumped against the horse reluctantly, it took about an hour to get back home, Phil had lost all feeling in his wing and wanted nothing more than to curl up with you and go to sleep. As the looming willow tree came into view Phil heard you sniffle and clutch his son’s beanie on your head,

“(Y/n)?”

“I-I’m alright.” You cleared your throat shaking your head, “Let’s get you looked at before anything else, okay?” Phil too exhausted to argue only nodded limply, you helped him inside and set him down on a chair. “Spread your wings for me,” You commanded, helping him stretch out his wings. He cursed, only feeling pure agony shoot through his right side,

“Ow! Fuck me!”

“Sorry, sorry,” You whispered out tenderly rubbing the base of his left-wing. The mixture of pain and pleasure was foreign but not completely unwelcome. “Oh, Phil…” You trailed off hesitant to touch the damage that was inflicted, “I don’t...I don’t think-” You chewed the bottom of your lip, but Phil got the message, he wasn’t going to be able to fly as he once did, maybe ever again. His flight feathers were singed to hell, completely burned away, not to mention the patchiness of his other feathers. His shoulders slumped forward as he ran a hand down his face, he was exhausted, he felt the coolness on his wing as you spread some antibiotic on the injury. “I’m sorry,” You kissed the back of his neck and he shivered at the feeling. “We’ll bury what we have tomorrow, you need rest.”

“I’ll be fine-”

“Phil, I will force you into bed. Don’t fucking test me right now, I will force you if I have to.” You hissed out glaring daggers at him, he should be threatened but he just felt oddly aroused.

He decided to attribute that to how fucked up he felt today.

Phil allowed you to tuck him into bed as gentle as you were capable of doing, “I’m going to send out some letters. I’ll join you in a little bit.” He felt you remove his hat and run your fingers through his blonde hair, he leaned into your touch like a kitten. As soon as you shut the door, Phil was out like a light.

Phil found out the next day that you had sent a letter out to both Tommy and Technoblade, you wouldn’t specify what you sent but you seemed a bit more relaxed than you had the other day. You both didn’t get a chance to bury what was left of Wilbur until a week later, Phil’s healing process was slower than he could’ve imagined. Phil reluctantly had to use a cane to get around easily, his crows laughed at him but you were also so kind and careful.

You were an angel.

The two of you buried him under the willow tree on the hill where you’d met the other members of your odd family for the first time. Technoblade had shown up at your doorstep holding out a large box inside of it was a stone tombstone inscribed on the tombstone was Wilbur’s name and date of birth and death. It had surprised Phil that the hybrid even agreed to make this for you, but at the same time, he was Phil’s adoptive son and closest friend, he appreciated the gesture nonetheless. Phil had placed Wilbur’s coat and beanie into a box and placed it under the ground. You had kept your promise and had grown little yellow flowers around the site of the burial, and the two parents mourned the loss of their biological son. Technoblade stood close by a hand resting on Phil’s shoulder in hopes to soothe him at least a little bit, Phil would never admit it but he appreciated the gesture.

Little did the three of them know, a small smile spread across a young ghost’s face. He picked at the sleeves of his yellow sweater, maybe he could give both of them some blue sometime to help them heal.

He had a feeling they’d like that idea.

~~~

I usually don't tag people in my stories but I figured a lot of people wanted a part two:

@xx-smiley-xx @dreamsofficialwife @dirtydiavolo @thatguythatsshy

@shinyshimaagain @little-odd-dude @theultimatewifu32 @hee-hee-haw @thegeekishere

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illogicalpunkwrites · 3 years

Text

What Water Gave Me

Hello everyone! This one is...interesting. I dunno, have fun! Thank you for reading and please let me know if you would like to be tagged!

Pairings: Leonard McCoy x Kirk!Reader

Rating: M (18+)

Warning: Sex pollen, smut, ABO dynamics, cursing, angst

Words: 4.4K

Tags: @bloodangelballerina @theweepingvulcan91

None of you found out about it until it was too late. Visiting a new planet was always exciting, especially when it was far different from Earth. None of the biologists knew what would happen when the crew drank the water until the first person started showing symptoms. That first person was none other than

your brother and the captain, Jim Kirk. He started behaving erratically, nearly pushing over other people to make sure Carol wasn’t messed with. She started to sweat and you hurried over to pull them away from each other. While you and Jim used to rough house in your younger days, you weren’t used to him actually trying to fight you. He got a couple of hits in, some of them really hurting you before you were able to gather yourself.

“Jim!” You yelped as he swung at you again, ducking just in time. You swept your leg out from under him, sending him to the ground so some members of your security team could hurriedly incapacitate him.

“No! Let him go!” Carol sobbed.

“Get Jim to his quarters and lock him in using the override!” You barked. You made a hysterical Carol sit down in the Captain’s chair and wiped her forehead. She started squirming in the seat and you kept trying to ask her questions, but she only called for Jim. Calling him…alpha?

“Uhura, call Bones and tell him what’s going on. Tell the same thing to Science Division.” You didn’t hear a response and looked over the top of the chair. “Nyota?” She was fanning herself, looking at Spock whose knuckles were blanched white as he gripped the console. “Sulu, can you leave your station for a minute and get Spock to his quarters? He might try to fight you but he seems okay right now.” He was the right person to ask. With what information you gathered, anyone who had any sort of partner was susceptible to what was going on. Luckily, his was back on Earth.

“What do you think’s going on?”

“I’m not sure, I’ll get those two back to their quarters and call medbay-”

“Sciences to Bridge.” The console beeped in and you sighed.

“This is Commander Kirk, report.” You demanded, already overwhelmed with what little you had dealt with in such a short amount of time.

“We’ve tested some samples from the planet and found something interesting. The water contains some sort of hormone that-“

“Drives people insane?”

“It establishes A/B/O dynamics within the population.”

“What the hell does that mean?” You asked incredulously.

“Alpha, Beta, and Omega dynamics, Commander.” Spock explained, his voice strained as Sulu led him to the elevator.

“No don’t take him!” Nyota got up to head towards the elevator but you jumped over to grab the back of her dress. “No! Alpha!” The doors closed and you let her go to nearly paw at them. Her dress was soaked through with sweat and a puddle of…something was forming underneath her.

“Medbay to bridge!” Leonard’s voice came through, sounding frustrated and tired.

“Bones, it’s (Y/N)! What’s going on?”

“I’ve got people trying to kill me down here on one side of the room and people crying on the other.”

“Are they all couples?”

“Most of them, their partners came and found them. I don’t think they liked me being near ‘em”

“We need to get everyone affected in their quarters, apparently the water establishes A/B/O dynamics.”

“My god.” He groaned. Normally, you would’ve laughed but you were highly stressed.

“I’ll send a security team down there to help out. Kirk out.” You explained before switching over to the ship wide intercom. “This is Security Commander Kirk, I need all personnel that drank water from Ni-bu to go to their private quarters immediately. If you do not follow orders you will be forcibly moved by security. I repeat, leave your stations and return to your quarters immediately.” You ended the call and grabbed Nyota and Carol. You got into the elevator and pulled out your communicator. “Kirk to Sciences division, please tell me there’s a cure for this thing.”

“We’ll have to go to K-7 for that, good thing is we’re not the only ones that have dealt with this. There was another planet like the one we were at that The Pegasus had to deal with.”

“Alright, I’ll tell Chek-“ You stopped and shook your head, knowing how flirtatious the Russian was. “I’ll get back up there and set the coordinates.” Pulling your friends along was like pulling two feisty Chihuahuas: they kept pulling away from you, kept yelping for their alphas, and at one point Carol actually bit you. Once that chore was done, you sprinted back up to the bridge to put in the coordinates and called for Sulu.

“Hikaru, you alright?”

“A little scraped up but I’m fine. Security’s doing a good job down here, some of your workers are affected by it though.”

“You think you can stay down there and help them out? I’m working on getting Bridge settled down.”

“You got it, but you owe me big time.”

“Next round’s on me when we get to K-7.” You chuckled before calling out. “Alright Chekov, let’s-“

“ENGINEERING TO BRIGE!” Jaylah screeched and your blood left your body. You had nearly forgotten about engineering. A large section of them went to Ni-bu to help fix some of the infrastructure and technology.

“Jaylah, are you alright?”

“Everyone down here is going crazy! Security is here but there is not nearly enough of them! I need help!”

“Where’s Scotty?”

“He went to go find Lieutenant Mira!” You groaned and grabbed Chekov by the back of his shirt while some other people from security grabbed most of the bridge.

“I’ll be down there as soon as I can, keep doing what you’re doing!”

XXXXXX

Hours later, the whole situation was defused with everyone who was affected locked in their rooms. Those who didn’t seem affected, the Betas, roamed around the halls like dead men walking. Sanitation swept and mopped the halls where puddles of “slick” had been left. You dragged your feet and nearly your entire body ached by the amount of times you had either been rammed into, hit, or bit by your crew mates. You saw Sulu and you gave each other a congratulatory hug.

“You owe me so much more than a round of drinks. This is not in my job description.” He mumbled, making you laugh.

“Thank you so much.” While most of your team had been okay, it had dwindled down severely by the time engineering was wrangled off. Scotty surprised you with how wily he was, giving you a run for your money. Thankfully, Jaylah helped you out and you threw him into his office.

Sulu pulled away and looked up and down at you, you had some cuts here and there and were bruised up. While it wasn’t the worst your body had faced, you’d still seen better days.

“Go to Medbay, Kirk. Your job is done for now and I’m sure McCoy could see a friendly face.” You smiled weakly and made your way down. When you came to the door it didn’t slide open so you knocked instead.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me! Lemme in!” After a few beeps on the PADD, the door slid open and you hurried in before it locked back behind you. You saw Leonard at his desk with a bottle of whiskey. His shirt was torn in some places and you could see the beginnings of a black eye. “Well, Doc, you look like you had an eventful day.” He snorted in response and poured you a glass.

“Please tell me we’ll get to K-7 soon.”

“We should be there by tomorrow morning. Sulu’s gonna get some rest before so he can get us in. I think the plan is for medbay to come to us to give us the hypospray.” You explained and took a large gulp, feeling the burn go down your throat. Leonard looked at the bruise on your jaw and you shrugged.

“It was Jim, nothing I can’t handle.”

“And the bites?”

“Carol, Scotty, and some others I can’t even remember.”

“Scotty bit you?”

“I had him in a choke hold.” You couldn’t help but laugh. “The female Alphas gave me a run for my money.”

“I think I can add this to the list of reasons why I hate space.” He finished up his drink and went to go grab a med kit to sterilize the wounds. You’d have to wait a couple of days to get the scars removed.

“Because it makes people unbelievably horny?” He laughed at that one, making you smile. “I’m glad that it wasn’t a free for all though, people were focused on either their partners or the people they’ve had a crush on.”

“My god I don’t even want to imagine what it would’ve been like if it’d been a free for all.”

“But I’m surprised, Len. You struck me as an Alpha.” You joked.

“I thought you’d be an Alpha.” He retorted. “You’re the one the one that fights everything.”

“I do not! I only fight when it’s needed!”

“Which is why you’re in here so often.” You finished off the whiskey and held out your left arm where one of the bites was. “You need to be more careful.”

“Hey, I didn’t know Carol would bite me!” You replied with a smile.

“I wonder why though? No one tried to bite me.”

“I’m the hotter one of the Kirk siblings?”

“Okay, I’m with you there.”

“I have to say, I like you a little roughed up. You look like an action hero.” He chuckled and knelt on the ground in front of you, antiseptic in hand.

You felt something when he touched you, something stirring within you. You tried to shake it off but you couldn’t as it grew. As he cleaned your wounds you could feel your body temperature rising and you became incredibly uncomfortable. As you looked at him you could see him tense up with his brows furrowing even more than they usually did and his grip on you tightening. You started squirming in your seat, your inner thighs becoming coated with something as you looked at Leonard. Oh god, was that slick? Once he was done with all of the open wounds he put his kit to the side shakily. You realized, even in your foggy state, he was trying to maintain composure. Your slick dripped down to the floor, making it hard for both of you to ignore. Now you realized what you both were and why neither of you had experienced symptoms all day. He was an Alpha, and you were his Omega.

“Leonard.” You whispered, nearly whined. He looked back at you and then to the bruise on your jaw. He brought his fingers to it and pressed on it gently, making you wince.

“You’re burning up.” He stated softly, his breathing picking up and voice gravelly. “You need to leave.”

When he said that, everything in your system freaked out. You leapt on him from the chair, wrapping your arms around his neck and straddling him. He caught you with his fingers against your ribs.

“Leonard, please.” You started kissing his neck, making his fingertips dig into you. He smelled so good, like something homey and warm with a splash of whiskey, and you couldn’t help but grind yourself against his hard cock. He let out a stuttered moan, his composure melting away as he felt your unbelievably wet pussy against him. “Alpha!” You cried softly.

That’s when it snapped away, Leonard picked you up and you wrapped your legs around him. He hurried over to his private office and you two fell onto his little cot, his lips smashing into yours. You moaned and arched your body into his, wanting as much contact as possible. His tongue slid into your mouth as you kicked your boots off and worked on his shirt.

“Off.” You whimpered. He sat back away from you and pulled down the zipper on your dress before sliding it off of you. You pulled his shirt off and pulled him back to you as he worked on the clasp of your bra.

“Such a pretty little ‘mega.” He slurred before laving his tongue down your bruised jaw, pain not even resonating with you at this point. He dropped your bra to the side, kissing and nipping down your neck and collarbone. His tongue circled around your nipple before sucking it into his mouth, kneading the other one with his hand. He was rougher than you thought he would be, teething at your pebbled nipple. You wondered if he was like this all the time. You rocked your hips up against him, wanting more than just that.

“Alpha, please!” You whined, making him chuckle. His hands drifted down the sides of your body to grip the elastic of your panties and pull them down your legs. He started pressing wet kisses down your stomach as his hands spread your legs to slot himself between them. You felt his breath against your pussy and you squirmed towards him, thighs enclosing around his head.

“God, you look-“ He didn’t even finish his sentence before burying his head in between your legs, his tongue circling your clit and tasting your slick. You arched your back and wove your fingers into his hair as an unruly moan escaped you. You felt your pussy growing even wetter and he groaned against you, the vibrations sending ripples through you. He sucked your clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue against it.

“Fuck! Alpha!” He looked up at you as you pulled his hair. “Please, need your cock, need your cock!”

You’d never begged like this before and you were sure you wouldn’t have if you weren’t in this state. He crawled back up your body and you pulled his head down to yours to kiss him, tasting yourself. Your hands shot down to his work pants and you palmed his straining cock, making him gasp into your mouth. You shakily undid the button and zipper before pulling them down and seeing his erection bob against his stomach. Your breathing got even heavier as he helped pull his pants off the rest of the way, his shoes thudding as they hit the ground. You leaned up to kiss and nip at his neck as you stroked his cock, trying to lead him to your pussy.

“Shit darlin’, Omega-“ He cut himself off with a grown and pulled your hand away, taking his cock in his hand and rubbing it against your pussy to coat it in slick. You needed more. You locked your legs around his waist and pulled him as close to you as you possibly could. “You ready, my Omega?”

“Please, Alpha.” You whispered as he kissed your forehead. Then you felt his cock enter you slowly, stretching you perfectly and making you keen against him. He breathed out loudly and slowly as he seated himself fully inside of you, your fingernails digging into his back. The both of you stayed just like that for a moment or two, foreheads against each other and breathing heavily. He leaned down to kiss you and you swore you had never felt so loved and protected. You started rocking your hips against his and he took the hint, rolling his hips back so that he was almost completely out of you before rutting back in. “Yes!”

“Feel so good, ‘mega” He slurred against you, starting a slow rhythm. But still you needed more. Your head lolled to the side, exposing your neck to him and he leaned down to suck your pulse point into his mouth. He started thrusting faster into you, hitting that spot inside of you that made you let out high pitched noises into his ear. His pubic bone rubbed against your clit deliciously and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. You felt like you couldn’t even speak anymore as your pussy started tightening even more around him, making him quiver a little. He looked down at you and you brought your hands to his face and neck to caress him more as your body bounced with his thrusts.

“Close, Alpha.” You warned and he leaned down to kiss you. The coil in your lower belly tightened even more and one more perfectly angled thrust did you in, a puddle of slick soaking into the sheets as you felt tingling flood your body. You cried out into Leonard’s mouth as your entire body stiffened with the intensity of your orgasm. Leonard’s thrusts started becoming sloppy and his grip on your body tightened. As you rode your high, something in the back of your mind still wanted more.

“Cum inside me” His eyes widened before gripping your thighs to put your legs over his shoulder, leaning towards you so you were folded. You shrieked out and threw your head back at him suddenly being so unbelievably deep. His arms wrapped around you as you bit his tanned shoulder, making him gasp into your ear and his hips stuttered against yours. With one final deep thrust, you felt his hot cum coat your walls. You whimpered at your oversensitivity but finally felt satiated, almost complete in a way. His body went limp against yours but you didn’t loosen your grip, neither did he. Your fever went away and the slick seemed to have stopped, but you wanting him didn’t.

“Stay.”

XXXXXX

You knew it was early when you woke up, but you weren’t sure how much longer you had before you docked at K-7. You felt sore all over, sticky, and still beyond tired. However, your head was fairly clear and you weren’t feeling feverish. You looked behind you and saw Leonard still asleep with his arm around you. You felt your heart drop as you realized that the night before really did happen, it wasn’t some hormone ridden dream.

You’d always been attracted to Leonard, even if he was a bit neurotic (something you still adored about him). However, you wanted to respect Leonard as a friend, coworker, and best friend of Jim’s. You couldn’t imagine how Jim would feel if you and Leonard started dating. There was also always the dreaded what ifs. What if you two broke up? How would your friends and Jim deal with that? You were also in a high stakes job. What if you seriously got injured, or worse? What if he never even felt the same way?

Also, being completely overrun by foreign hormones was not how you want you two to get together anyway.

So, as you Kirks do, you decided to get out before more awkwardness could come or having to face the difficult consequences of your actions. Luckily, Leonard seemed to be a heavy sleeper but you could feel a fever beginning to creep on you again as his arm tried to tighten on you. You felt your heart ache as even the non-Omega part of you wanted to stay. But if you did, what happened wouldn’t be just between the two of you. Someone would walk in and know what had happened. You didn’t even bother putting on your underwear or shoes, just your red dress before unlocking the doors with his PADD and sneaking back to your quarters to lock yourself in. You were breathing harshly, the fever hitting you pretty hard, and you slid down your door to the ground.

“Computer, air conditioning at full capacity.” The fans whirred around you as you tried not to think of Leonard.

XXXXXX

Leonard woke up with a groan and stretched against his cot. He felt around his bed for you, but shot up when he didn’t find you. He looked around the room and saw that your underwear and boots were still in his room. He kind of wanted to laugh, thinking about how you probably bolted out of there. He thought you were probably embarrassed about the whole thing. A nagging part of his brain said it was probably because you regretted it entirely. He had always liked you, but for the sake of Jim he kept it more friendly and professional. Perhaps it was best to just forget about it. Better that than a repeat of another failed relationship.

“Dr. McCoy? This is Nurse Chapel from the K-7 research lab. We’re here to give you the hypospray.” He hurriedly put on his clothes and kicked your things under the cot before letting the nurse in.

XXXXXX

A couple of days later, you hurried to the bridge to return some reports of the events to Jim. You had avoided medbay like the plague and unbeknownst to you, a couple of friends took notice. As you handed the PADD to Jim, he looked at your healing jaw and cringed once again.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know, asshole, you say it every time you see me.” You chided playfully. He looked at the rest of the scars left on your body from the others and raised an eyebrow at you.

“You can probably get those taken care of, y’know?”

“I know, I just haven’t found the time with writing this shit up.” You replied and he chuckled, waving you away. You smoothed out your skirt and went to the elevator, but Sulu slid in before the doors closed.

“Oh hey! What’s up?”

“What’s up with you? You always get your scars fixed up and Uhura knows for a fact that you’ve had enough time.”

“Are you two gossiping behind my back?” You replied and he crossed his arms at his chest. “Maybe I want to keep the scars.”

“You want to keep scars in the shape of bite marks?” He replied flatly and you shrugged. The doors opened again and He grabbed your arm. “That’s it, I’m taking you to medbay.”

“No!” You panicked and pulled away from him.

“What in the world’s going on?” He asked incredulously, and you looked around. “Did something happen the day we went to Ni-bu?” You opened your mouth but quickly shut it.

“I’ll tell you what happened, just not here.”

“C’mon!” He pulled you into a nearby closet and locked the door behind him. You paced what little you could in the space and he sighed. “Would you just tell me?”

“I thought I was okay. I didn’t have any of the symptoms so I thought I was a Beta. After everything settled down I went to medbay like you told me to get my cuts cleaned up.” Sulu quickly put two and two together, especially after days of suspicion.

“You weren’t a Beta and neither was he.” You shook your head. “And, lemme guess, you left in the morning?”

“I didn’t know what else to do.” You nearly whispered. “I fucked up.”

“Yeah, you did. Kirk, you gotta fix this. You have to talk to him. You can’t avoid medbay forever.”

“I can try.”

“Kirk.”

“I know you’re right! I just don’t know what to do.” He wrapped an arm around you and you leaned into him.

“Just go in there.”

XXXXXX

Leonard was reading from his PADD in his quarters when he heard a knock on the door. He put it down on his bedside table before letting it open and saw you. His black eye was healing nicely, but he winced when he widened them in surprise.

“Uh, hey.” You started, already wanting to punch yourself.

“Hey.”

Fuck, this was awkward.

“Can I come in?” He stood to the side and you stepped in, the door closing behind you.

“If you’re here for your clothes and boots there under my cot in my office.”

Ouch.

“Thanks but that’s not why I’m here.” You stood there, trying to keep from fidgeting. “I wanted to talk about what happened, and before you say anything I know I shoulda stayed. I wanted to stay but-“ You broke off and sat down in his arm chair. You felt like if you kept standing then you’d pass out.

“But what? I’ve been wonderin’ why you didn’t stay, myself.” He said and you nodded.

“And I shouldn’t have done that to you.” You looked down at your clasped hands and tried to swallow the nervousness radiating in your body. “Leonard, I’ve always liked you. I’ve always been attracted to you.” You didn’t see the surprised look that crossed his face. “But I was always afraid of what would happen. I mean, you know me and Jim: we’re both terrified of relationships and I know that you’re wary of them after how things went in your marriage. I’ve always wanted to respect that.” You didn’t realize you had started to ramble. “And Jim is another thing! That ass is always so protective over me and you’re his best friend! That’s a conundrum just for him! Does he kick your ass or lock me in my cabin or both?! Not to mention we’re in space and it’s probably one of the most dangerous places ever!” You finally looked at him and saw him chuckling, hiding his face behind his hand. “Why the hell are you laughing? I’m pouring my heart out here!”

“Because you sound like me, dammit!” He smiled and you stared at him incredulously. “Go on, finish up. I gotta talk some time.” You shook your head at him and stood up.

“Fine, you want me to finish? I didn’t want to wake up and hear you talk about how it was a mistake because just thinking about that fucking kills me. I wanted it to happen, maybe not like that but I wanted…something like that to happen. There, I’m done.” You stood there and waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. “Well you said you had to talk.” You looked back up at him expectantly and his eyes had softened, he wasn’t smiling anymore.

“I didn’t know you felt that way and...as much as I didn’t think that this is the way things would happen, I don’t regret that it did. I’ve wanted to be with you for so long but everything’s complicated. But I wanna give it a shot because I can’t imagine not being with you.” Tears welled in your eyes at his confession and you threw yourself at him, taking in his warmth.

“I want to be with you, Len.”

“As long as you promise you won’t run away again, darlin’.” You smiled up at him and kissed him softly.

“I promise…Alpha.” He stiffened against you and you laughed. He smiled and captured your lips in his, holding you tightly against him. “You think you could get rid of my scars first?” You squealed as he picked you up and you wrapped your legs around him.

You two would just have to deal with everything else later.

#leonard mccoy x reader #Leonard McCoy #star trek #Star Trek Fanfiction #star trek aos #star trek TOS

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nishisun · 3 years

Text

suna rintaro is NOT a genius.

summary: you loved the idea of soulmates. suna rintaro didn’t. it isn’t that hard to put two and two together to realize that maybe people with different opinions on things don’t belong together.

part 2

a/n: this was literally supposed to be a series, i gave up on it because i just didn’t like the way it turned out. it used to be called “out of my league” and this was the intro. i also renamed it. just emptying drafts!! please don’t get confused with the random timeskip, once again, this was a part of a series i never ended up posting😭

WARNING!!: suggestive themes, mentions of death, idk kinda angsty but tell me if i missed anything

Soulmates. Whatever the hell that means. The idea of soulmates is something I truly don’t understand. It’s bullshit, honestly. It’s all-pervasive.

My mother always told me I'd eventually find "the one.” I used to believe that when I was younger of course. But in my opinion? It’s all cliches. It's unhelpful, and it's certainly not true. Destiny is an excuse for the weak. Why do you think most marriages end in divorce? It's 'cause people who believe they are “destined to be" assume everything will fall into place without any effort. I don't appreciate people pontificating bullshit like that just to make me feel better, especially if they haven't found their "soulmate" themselves. My sister once told me, “People who believe in soulmates are more likely to break up and encounter more difficulty in their relationship, which will lead them to give up on one another eventually.”

I sure do believe that.

My mother is a prime example. Fumeiko Suna, my dear mother. Well, she clearly hasn’t found hers. I found out when I came home after a tedious day of school in 5th grade and found my dear mother on the floor crying, with bruises all over her face and a busted lip.

Initially, I thought a burglar had broken into our home once again, but if that were the case then there would’ve been missing furniture. But there wasn’t.

In fact, the place seemed cleaner than usual. When I ran up to her and asked her what had happened, there he was. The devil himself. My father. He reeked of alcohol, and I could detect his shadow towering over me. It’s funny how that I think of it. I used to fear that son of a bitch. Now, I’m way taller than him, and hate his guts. I turned around to see a faux-sympathetic smile plastered on his face.

He explained how my mother was being “clumsy” and had fell and busted her lip on one of the corners of the kitchen table and when I turned back around to face my mother, she smiled gently and nodded in agreement. She didn’t say anything after that.

It was then I realized my father had beat my mother to a pulp.

Long story short, when I found it was my father, sure, I was frightened. In fact, I remember going into my siblings’ rooms to inform them, they shrugged it off and told me that dad had been doing it for a while now.

Over time, when my dad had found out that I was aware, he didn't mind beating the absolute shit out of my mother in front of all three of us. This was when my burning hatred for that man started. Nobody in the house even attempted to stop him. I did a few times, though. He took all his anger out on me. At least my mom had a break for the day.

I almost pitied my mother. Almost. Maybe if she was strong enough to leave him, then yeah, I’d feel bad. But she still decides to stay with his sorry ass. It’s pathetic. It’s unrequited love or whatever you call it. How could she still love that asshole?

I mean, I’m not even going to lie, I’m an asshole too, but I’m definitely not my dad. I would never want to be him. He’s not someone I looked up to, he doesn’t do anything inspirational. He’s a businessman. He travels the majority of the time, and I’m pretty sure my mom invites men over when he’s gone. I don’t care enough to find out. But if I ever hear some guy rearranging my mom’s guts, I’ll kill him. I don’t even blame my mother. What she’s doing is wrong, she knows it and so do both of my older siblings. But they don't seem to care so why should I?

Who knows why she just won’t leave him. Maybe it’s cause they don’t want to ruin how people view our “picture perfect” family. I wonder what they’d say. “I thought the Suna’s were the ideal family? I guess not.”

My dad would probably lose it if he heard that.

Both my mother and my father are the cause of this broken family of mine. They never fed me or any of my siblings the love we always desired when we were younger. They never came to any of my volleyball games when I was younger. They never applauded me for the little recitals we’d have in class in primary school. They were never even here for most of my childhood. They always put money first and left us with the housekeepers. Hell, the housekeepers probably know me better than my own parents.They failed as parents. I despise them for it. They’re most likely the reason I am the way I am, but to be honest?

I don’t give a fuck.

In fact, I should thank them! Because of how they “raised” me, i’m extremely blunt, which is why people respect me. I use the hatred I have for my family and take it out on people and no, I’m not proud of that. I may be a heartless asshole, but I like that people fear me. The hell? Does that make me a sadist? Either way, people know to never fuck with me cause I’d fuck their shit up. I’ve overheard many people say it’s ‘cause of my privilege. It probably is. Money can’t buy happiness, but it sure can buy you many other things.

If my parents were broke, I’d probably be expelled from school by now. Abuse of alcohol and drugs are forbidden on school property. I don’t even take them at school, I somewhat care about my education and health, but sometimes I just need to blow some steam. Even if I did, nobody’s gonna say shit since my dad is the head of Japan’s board of education. How did his ass even get there?

Call me lonely or cynical. Maybe I am. But how is that a bad thing? Why do people need a significant other to rely on? What, a soulmate is just going to turn my life upside down then suddenly bring me happiness? Pfft, I’m gonna need actual proof that shit like that still happens. I’ve only seen shit like that in fairy tale movies. It’s whatever, though. I can live with being alone. I’ve basically been alone my whole life and it isn’t as bad as people make it.

You loved the idea of having a soulmate. The thought of meeting someone who just understood you, accepted you for who you were, and most importantly, loved you excited you. You couldn’t wait to meet your soulmate.

But recently, you weren’t sure soulmates existed.

When your older sister, Akira, came into your room and burst into tears, it frightened you. Your older sister, the one who’d always provide you advice on relationships and how to keep one was in your room sobbing hysterically because hers hadn’t worked out.

“I just can't believe it,” she sobbed.

You couldn’t believe it either. Your sister had recently gotten engaged to her boyfriend of 9 years. They started dating at the age of 15 and managed to make things work out even after high school, and out of all those years of dating, they never broke up. Not even once.

They’d go on romantic dates on Saturdays and they’d always write love letters to one another every day, just to remind one another of how grateful they were to have each other in their lives. On Halloween, they’d dress up as fictional characters from TV shows and books and take cute selfies and bake a bunch of sweets. They’d invite you to come bake with them, but you would politely deny. You knew they were only offering so you wouldn’t feel left out, which you appreciated.

Of course, they’d argue every now and then, but at the end of the day, they always managed to talk things out. Oh to have a relationship like theirs. They were everything you wanted to have in a relationship and more.

“I really thought he was the one for me, y’know?” No, you don’t know. But that doesn't matter. What mattered was cheering your sister up.

“Maybe he wasn’t ‘the one’ Akira, and that’s okay! People come and go all the time, soulmates come and go all the time as well-”

“You still believe soulmates are real, huh?” she let out a humorless laugh and sniffed her nose, “What If I missed my one shot at love, Y/N? What if I lost my soulmate?”

That’s some deep shit.

Now that you think about it, were soulmates real? Soulmates come and go, yes, you’re aware of that, but even though they leave, it’s always temporary. Soulmates always find a way back to their other half, the piece that completes them.

Your dad never made it back to your mother.

He died in a car crash 5 years ago. Your mother and father had been arguing because she claimed your father was cheating on her since he wouldn’t let her check his phone.

You were 13 at the time. Your sister Akira was accompanying you in your room, listening to them arguing back and forth with one another. There was furniture flying across the room, glass breaking, and both of them throwing curses at each other. You were scared. They never argued in front of you and your sister. They'd bicker sometimes, but it was never anything too deep.

Eventually, your father had enough of your mother’s false accusations, and out of anger, he packed his things and left home. For weeks. It wasn’t until one of your uncles called your mother and broke the news. She didn’t take it very well.

Late 2012-early 2013.

Not many people came to your father’s funeral, his family didn’t like the fact that he and your mother were together, they said your mother was trouble, but your dad still stayed with her, even if that meant it would completely destroy the bond he had with his family. Now that’s true love, you had thought. Only your mother, Akira, the Sunas, your uncle, and you, of course, attended the funeral.

It hurt a lot. It hurt when your mother informed both your grandparents on your mother and father’s side and all they could do is put the blame on her. It hurt how they had claimed you, Akira and your mother were a hindrance to your dear father’s well-being. How could they be so cruel at a time like this?

That was the first time you ever questioned if soulmates were real. Maybe they fell in love at the wrong time? Who knows.

After your father’s passing, Fumiko Suna, your mother’s best friend, was there to help your family out financially. Your mother couldn’t even find the motivating to go to work. Your mother and Fumiko have been best friends since junior high, they’ve literally been inseparable ever since. In fact, after they both got married, they decided to live right next to each other.

Your mom didn’t cope with your father’s death very well; none of you did. But your mom had it the worst.

She would cope with alcohol and clubbing which would always result in her bringing different men home almost every night. You didn’t say much about it, you thought it would be selfish to since that’s what seemed to make your mother feel better about herself, but your sister hated it. She was already 19 and in college at the time, but when she visited and found out that your mother had basically been neglecting you, she was furious.

“Seriously, mom? This is what you’re gonna do while your 13-year-old daughter is in her room having a literal mental breakdown because of your childish behavior?” Your sister had barged into your mother’s room when she thought you were asleep, she was screaming loud.

“You’re interrupting something important, Akira. You know better than to-”

“Oh, shut the hell up mom. You’re the last person on earth to be saying shit like that.”

“Well, if you’re done, you can leave my room now. You’re being disrespectful, and this behavior is not tolerated!” Your mother was screaming now. The man in the bed covering his body under the covers and looking back and forth between Akira and your mother.

“Sakiya, maybe you should hear your daughter out-”

“Not now.” your mother scarcely interrupted the man, eye contact never leaving Akira. “Y/N has never complained about this when you were in college. She knows this is my way of coping, why can’t you understand that too!”

Akira scoffed. “So what, getting fucked by random strangers you find on the filthy streets is your way of coping? Getting wasted every damn night to the point where Y/N has to drag you up to bed is okay with you? Do you even know how much this is affecting Y/N? Did you even bother asking her how she felt? I hate breaking it to you mom, but you need serious help.”

“You selfish child!” Your mother screamed, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her body, getting up from the bed. “How dare you say that to your own mother?”

“I’m only telling the truth! If you’re the mother, then it’s your job to be taking care of Y/N, not neglecting her. When’s the last time you’ve engross in an actual conversation with her when you were fully sober?”

Your mother was silent. She quickly walked up to Akira and grabbed her by the hair and slammed her headfirst against the wall.

“You’ve got a big mouth! Maybe I should wash it with soap like I did back in the day, hm?” Akira was attempting to push her mother away, but she wouldn’t let go of her grip. The man that was still on your mother’s bed was in panic, yelling her name, which didn’t have any effect. He might as well stop.

"Look," Akira mumbled, struggling to get away from your mother's grip, "I know it's been hard ever since dad left-"

“Mom! Let go of her!” You cried from the door of her room.

All 3 adults froze and looked at your glassy eyes, mouths wide open.

“Hey, kiddo, I thought you were asleep?” Akira playfully said, your mother let go of Akira and crossed her arms then looked away from you.

“Well, I can't really go to sleep when there’s a bunch of adults yelling about my well-being,” you muttered incoherently. You quickly wiped the uncontrollable tears off your face and sighed.

“Honey,” your mom started, she walked slowly to you, carefully examined your face, and attempted to hug you, but you didn’t accept the offer which made your mother frown. She stopped walking until she was almost face to face with you and placed a hand on your shoulder gently. “Baby, your sister told me that you weren’t happy. Is this true?”

You looked away from her and stared dully at the floor, subtly shifting your feet, then you softly shook your head “no.”

“See Akira, Y/N is happy. So please stop stressing her out.” Your mother said through gritted teeth, then faced you once again. “Y/N honey, how about I go tuck you into bed, hm? I’m so sorry for the excessive noise that was caused.”

“Mom, how clueless can you be? Y/N looks miserable! It’s unhealthy for Y/N to be living-“

Slap.

Your mother just slapped Akira on the face.

“I know what’s best for my daughter! I am her mother! You are not the one who should be telling me how to take care of my own kid!”

“That’s enough, Sakiya.” a familiar voice said from the door.

“Fumeiko-“

“It’s fine. Sakiya, we need to talk.” It was Fumeiko Suna, your mother’s best friend, also known as your next door neighbor. She had been standing in the hallways the whole time, you didn’t even know she was there. Akira was the one who called her over.

That night your mother agreed to get help for her drinking problem. She was gone for 6 months. During those 6 months, the Suna’s took you in since Akira would be in college and you couldn’t have been more grateful.

You and Rintaro were the only kids in the house, being that you both were the same age and the others were in college. It was okay, they were all very polite, dinners were awkward, you could feel some sort of tension between the family but you didn’t pay any attention to it.

When your mom finally came back, it was awkward at first. She still seemed the same, loving and caring, just sober and free of alcohol. It was nice. You two spent the weekends bonding at the mall, watching a movie, or even getting your nails done. Eventually, she gained your trust back, and you couldn’t have been happier.

January 2017.

“Akira, don’t say that. You may not believe me now, but you are such an amazing person, don’t ever think you’ll never find love again. It’s all about having a positive mindset!” you said, thoughtfully stroking her hair as her head laid on your chest.

“I told you that.”

“You did,” you chuckled, “you should take your own advice.

“Oh, shut up!” you both laughed, and Akira let out a shaky sigh. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Of course, you don't need to thank me. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

— so this is one of the writings that i wrote in January 😭 it’s been in my drafts and i re-read it once and instantly hated it right after. if there’s any typos please tell me!!

— also i wanna apologize again for putting gmds on hiatus,, i feel so bad 😭 i wanna make it up to you guys but idk how so if you have suggestions pls tell me

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writting-thingz · 3 years

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Request:Could I request something angsts and fluffy for Benimaru from fire force? I’m sorry I can’t give anymore detail- my mind is literally blank 😬😂

Pairing: Reader x Benimaru

Summary: You found out your younger brother is turning innocent people into infernos and use them as his army. It seems all your worst fears are coming true as you run to your closest friend and love your life for help. Can Benimaru ever forgive you for not seeing the true nature of your brother?

Warnings: ANGST… intrusive thoughts, fluff if you really squint

Forgive Me

Once again you find yourself arguing with your younger brother. The same old song and dance since you found out what he had been occupying his time with behind your back. He seemed more agitated today.

“You’re just too naive to understand Y/n. This is for the greater good of science, of the world!!” He exclaims whilst pacing in front of his ‘throne ’.

“Killing innocents by turning them into infernos and trying to use them as your puppets!? You call THAT 'For the greater good’? What about all those people you sacrificed, HUH?!?” You cried with shaking clenched fists. Your brother shoots you an icey spine chilling glare which you mirror right back at him. “Those people are innocent! You ruined their life’s for your personal entertainment!!! You’re a horrible person, you’re a mon-” in a blink of an eye you brother is behind you. You can feel the edge of his knife pressing hard against you throat; it was almost enough to draw blood.

“Finish that word and I’ll make sure it’s your last.” He snarled. Heavy, blood-thirsty breaths blow past your ear as he spoke, “Everyone has their sins, Y/n, even the most innocent ones. Think of it as a final repent for all the wrong and evil they have done. We all have to pay for our deeds one day; I’m just being a good Samaritan and helping. Keep of this act of yours and you’ll be next.” Having finally had enough of this you grab a hold of his wrist and pull it away from your neck. You maneuvers the situation around so you’re pinning his wrist behind his back and holding his dagger to his throat. He waits patiently knowing you’ll give up. You huff and whisper angrily

“you’re sick!” You chuck the dagger at the ground and storm off. As you leave you could hear his chuckle gradually turn into maniacal and hysterical laughter.

The wall to town was hardly quiet. The closer you came to town the louder the world seemed to be. His haunting laugh echoed as the intrusive thoughts that crowded you mind grew louder. They started low but now it was as if they were screaming.

’You let him slip through you fingers’

’You failed to notice what your little brother truly was and now the world will suffer because you!’

’What? Now you're going to run away? Run to HIM? Are you going to tattle on your own flesh and blood?’

’You don’t think you’re actually doing the right thing do you? Sell out your little brother to a fire force soldier? Oh that’s right you don’t love your sibling he’s just monster to you.’

’What makes you think Benimaru is going to love you after you tell him the truth?’

’He’ll think you’re brother is a monster and you are too by connection’

’You’re a monster’

’He’ll try to exterminate your brother and fail then world will suffer and it will be all your fault’

’You’re a monster, it’s all your fault’

’Its all your fault, it’s all your fault, it’s all your fault’

’Monster’

’IT’S’

’ALL’

’YOUR'

’FAULT!’

“ShuuuuuUUUUUUT UUUUUPPP!” You scream as you clutch your head. You scratch your scalp as you grip your hair. “Shut up, shut up, shut up, SHUT! UP!” You shake your head as you cry out.

A pair of screams pull you out of your head. You weren’t aware that surrounding you was total mayhem and destruction, let alone that you had made it into town. Inferno were everywhere you looked.

'What.. what’s going on?’ Your eyes widen and start to tear up.

’Oh don’t play dumb, you know who’s behind this’ the sinister thought surprised you.

“Y/NNNNN” A familiar voice calls out, no, bellows out. You just barely feel the wind blowing past your as a flaming spear skims past your cheek.

“B-Beni?” You hesitate in disbelief of the sight before you. Was the man you love axtuslly barreling towards you with ill intent? Having to dodge another flaming spear and being hit in the shoulder by a second on brought forth the harsh reality. Your heart twists and turns creating knots as you clutch your shoulder. Benimaru, the love of your life, lands a few feet ahead of you.

“How could you do this? I thought you wanted a better world for your brother!? Is this seriously how you thought you were going to get it?” He tells. The dust from his landing settles as he interrogates you. You can see tears roll down his cheeks, “Y/n… I have a hard time believing you did this. Tell me- …tell me it isn’t true.” The wavering tone of his voice causes a hitch in your breath and a twang of pain to hit your heart.

“I-I-” before you could explain an inferno busts through a building beside Beni. You sprint to push him out of the way of the debris. As you make your way to him you grab some nearby rubble and chuck it at the raging inferno. You chuck it as hard and with as much fire power as you could in those few seconds.

You cough harshly as pain races throughout your body. The pain didn’t matter to you, what matters is you saved Benimaru. After getting back up he scrambles by your side. He sends a few spears into the inferno finishing it off.

“Y/n! Hey, look at me. This isn’t the time or place to be snoozing.” He pats the side of your face and your eyes flutter open.

“Beni… I know auh.. I know we aren’t amazing close as friends but I love you. I have for a while I was afraid you wouldn’t feel the same heh heh, augh…” you admit grunting from the pain occasionally. “You have to believe I would never want harm to come to you or this town. But this is my fault. Augh-” your confession is interrupted by sudden coughs. “I-.. I wasn’t a good enough older sibbling. I had no idea he was capable of something like this ack- I promise, if you give me a chance I’ll be good. I’ll work to be better and change him, I promise Beni. Please just let me talk to him. I promise I’ll help make him better, ill be good. I’ll be good… I’ll… be.. good.” A heavy weight hits your eyes as you cry your confession and plea. Although it’s fuzzy and just barely a whisper, you still manage to hear him,

“I believe you Y/n. Rest, I’ll take care of your little brother.”

*four days later*

You had woken two days after passing out. Konro breached the news of your brother passing away during a battle against a few fire soldiers and Beni who tried to intervene when he found them. Benimaru has yet to visit you while you are recovering. You feared those awful thoughts of yours were right; that because he knows the truth he hates you. Desperately wanting to focus on something happy you convince the medics to allow you a walk. A calming stream beside you as you remember all the times you spent there with Benimaru. The few laughs you had together, and practices you begged for to better your fire power and fighting skills. You smiled watching the ghost of a memory play out before you.

“I thought I would find you here…” Bittersweet was the feeling that hit you when your heard his voice. “I’m sorry I didn’t visit.. I was too ashamed to face you after failing to take care of you brother…” he confesses. You stop walking but don’t dare look at him, How could you? He lets out a deep breath before speaking again, “I know that I hurt you. I know that nothing I can say will change the past. But…I’m hoping that you’ll forgive me in the end. I’m hoping that I can make this right.” Tears quickly swell up in your eyes. You spin around and make eye contact with him. After a few seconds you couldn’t bare it any longer and you run at him with your arms outstretched. The two of you tumble to the ground with your arms wrapped tightly around him.

“I forgive you, just please don’t leave me… I can’t loose both things I love.” You pleaded as he sat up. He cradles you into his arms as you sob. Slowly you cry your self to sleep with you face buried in his chest. Beni places a gentle kiss on your forehead and whispers,

“I won't… I love you Y/n”

~The End~

#request fic #fire force request #fire force x reader #benimaru shinmon #benimaru x reader #angst #tw intrusive thoughts #one of the ones I cried reading

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kaizokuou-ni-naru · 3 years

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The Voyage So Far: Whole Cake Island

east blue (1 | 2) || alabasta (1 | 2) || skypiea || water 7 || enies lobby || thriller bark || paramount war (1 | 2) || fishman island || punk hazard || dressrosa (1 | 2) || whole cake island || wano

sanji is such a self-sacrificial idiot. and i know that’s not exactly a ground-breaking statement, but it does define the entire first half of whole cake island, so it may as well be reiterated here: sanji does not value his own life as much as he should, and fails to grasp that other people care about him outside of what he can offer them, which is why he’s so surprised when luffy later comes charging headlong into big mom’s territory.

zou is a really good little arc, and it also mirrors the themes of whole cake island in miniature. the minks collectively make a massive sacrifice and risk absolutely everything to protect raizou, and wci is essentially all about loyalty and sacrifice, whether its sanji giving himself up to protect the strawhats and zeff or luffy and the strawhats facing impossible odds to rescue him to pedro giving up his life to get them all out of there safe.

huge fan of this panel partly just because it’s cute and partly because it’s a great visualization of just how dysfunctional the heights are in one piece.

zou is one of my favorite settings in one piece just for the sheer creativity of it. zunesha is so massive and so mysterious and so strange. and she really looks unspeakably old just from how she’s drawn, looming over everyone and everything, eyes hollow and empty, an entire forest and an entire people growing on her back that have been there for thousands of years. it’s just so neat and so wildly inventive.

this applies to zou as a whole, but i think it’s really cool how all the little threads that will become important during wano are set up so effectively even before whole cake island starts. we get this shot here of kidd beat to shit and then forget it because so much happens between here and when he shows up again in wano, but then oda punks us into caring about him and killer so much and this retroactively becomes very important.

ever since his introduction sanji’s always been a character basically defined by his adherence to his principles: always feeding the hungry, never wasting food, never hurting women, never using his hands in combat. he’s probably the most firmly principled person on the crew, and that’s more obvious in whole cake island than in any other arc except maybe baratie.

sanji is very stubbornly good, which puts him in acute contrast to his siblings and their general cruel apathy. it’s something i really like about him.

i’m a huge fan of big mom’s introduction, which is also our introduction to tottoland in general. it’s cutesy and colorful and musical while simultaneously being deeply creepy, with lyrics about killing people for ingredients and making jam out of blood, which is a great summary of the core of big mom’s character. she’s an old lady all in pink who lives in a cartoon fairy-tale land- but she’s also a deranged cannibal, and all those singing trees and flowers are animated by the life she steals from her citizens as tax.

whole cake island draws on a lot of fairy tale motifs (especially with brulee), and the contrast that saccharine appearance creates with how fucked up the actual content is is super effective and memorable, i think.

honestly i find most of the content of sanji with the vinsmokes just plain upsetting, which i’m sure is intentional, so i’m not going to go into it a lot here, but i am including this panel of him kicking niji in the face.

sad as this scene turns out, luffy’s absolute thrill at finding sanji and the corresponding bafflement of the vinsmokes as to how the fuck he even got there always kinda makes me grin.

i always love seeing people’s underestimations about luffy get thrown right the hell out the window- because let’s be honest, he’s easy to underestimate, he’s like a five and a half foot tall rubber teenager and not very physically intimidating and all, and then he goes and pulls off the impossible without blinking.

the thing that makes luffy unique as a captain has always been his willingness to rely on his crew, and his willingness to openly admit that reliance, like he did all the way back in arlong park. most of the other contenders for the pirate king’s crown we’ve seen- big mom, kaidou, crocodile once upon a time- have been stubbornly individualistic people who explicitly shown not to care for their crew and allies, generally seeing them as disposable.

luffy is the opposite of all of them, because his crew are everything to him, to the point of being willing to sacrifice his dream for them. and the loyalty he wins from them in return is unmatched, as opposed to big mom and kaidou, who both get cheerfully betrayed not just by their own crewmates but by their own children.

brook is really cool in whole cake island, and honestly it comes at just the right time for him as a character. ever since his introductory arc in thriller bark until this point he hasn’t gotten a ton of focus, so it’s great that he gets to be the mvp here and demonstrate exactly why he’s a strawhat pirate and how much he’s grown over the timeskip.

oda is generally really good at introducing and handling characters contained to a single arc/saga, but i do think he absolutely knocked it out of the park with pedro. he has an interesting backstory, compelling motivations, and basically an entire sub-arc ending in his death that never distracts from the main plot, but only ever adds to it.

pedro really feels like a fully realized character who’s had a whole life offscreen, who we just happened to catch at the very end of his story. i think that’s super impressive.

i really love this moment, because for me, this is the moment where whole cake island becomes a tremendous arc, and where the tides begin to turn and the dominoes begin to fall, one after the other. this is sanji hitting absolute rock bottom. the one ray of light he pinned all his hopes on was a lie, and he can’t even light a fucking cigarette.

but one piece is, very often, a story about picking yourself up even when you feel like you can’t.

i think there’s something lovely about how much one piece emphasizes the value of honestly asking for help. luffy waits for nami to ask for help, and for robin to say she wants to live, and for sanji to admit he just wants to go home, and then says, “okay, i’ll make that happen.”

it just makes me so happy how happy the stawhats are to know sanji’s back with them. it reminds me a lot of how they all brush off robin’s thanks after enies lobby. sure, they’re going to have to crash the wedding and confront big mom directly and might all die, but who cares? they’ve got sanji back. i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, i love how much they love each other.

i think the gangster outfits are super fun, and i love that oda is committed enough to his aesthetics to come up with an excuse to put them all in formalwear. it pays off, they all look extremely snappy.

i know i just said it in the dressrosa posts but i’m reiterating it here because this is my favorite example of it by far: i love when oda does this split-screen thing with his panels. the contrast between the two halves of pudding is so severe and yet they’re so clearly the same person i honestly just find this pair of panels fascinating to look at.

this panel also kind of gets at my favorite thing about pudding as a character, really. i know she’s a little controversial in fandom, but i’ve always found her entertaining (at least post-reveal), especially in the contrast between her unhinged evil side and her genuinely sweet romantic side and her post-wedding tendency to randomly ping-pong between the two.

i just always like reminding people that sanji is fast enough and his observation haki good enough to dodge a surprise attack, while thoroughly distracted, from katakuri.

sanji in this arc tends to get shit from a certain side of fandom for being ‘useless’ since he doesn’t have a big climactic fight despite being the focus of the arc, which i think is thoroughly missing the point. sanji is still plenty capable in combat, as demonstrated both here and later, with chiffon and oven. it just happens that his strength isn’t what saves the day ultimately, because combat ability isn’t everything, which is the entire point of the vinsmoke backstory/subplot. sanji saves the day just by being kind.

i’ll admit big mom’s flashback isn’t one of my favorites, taken in isolation- there are some parts of it that kind of unresolved (at least as of now- i still suspect they’ll be followed up eventually), and in general, although there is a tragedy to it, it doesn’t quite hit the way many of the other more effective flashbacks do. that said, i do think it does a really good job of succinctly explaining why big mom is the way she is in the present: she’s a child who was never told no, who never grew or matured past the disappearance of her adopted mother. that’s it, and that’s enough.

i’ve always been a little bit in love with how seriously and consistently one piece handles its themes of found family, and sanji outright disowning judge in whole cake island is maybe the most outright they ever get: family is found, not made. you owe nothing to your blood and are never beholden to your abusers.

and i just like that a whole lot.

i do think the tamatebako is one of the best uses of chekov’s gun i’ve ever seen. we’re first shown it at the end of fishman island, it’s revealed it got sent off to big mom rigged with explosives which is a minor “oh fuck” moment, and then it gets forgotten about, because the entirety of punk hazard and dressrosa happens in between! which is a lot!

i remember when i reached the moment in whole cake island where we’re reminded that that bomb still exists and is still waiting to explode, i just started laughing hysterically out loud, because i’d completely forgotten, and now that i remembered i was just delighted to know it was going to definitely go off at some point, almost certainly in a very satisfying way.

pedro is, if i remember right, the first time the imagery of the coming dawn that will become quite important in wano really has attention drawn to it in-text- the recurring motif is there before this, of course, dating all the way back to the names of the first chapter (romance dawn) and first island (dawn island), but this is the first time it’s actively addressed in-story.

in doing so, oda essentially presents a fresh mystery for us, but one that has been set up so consistently ever since chapter one that it feels like it fits perfectly into the world and story.

luffy’s been punching way above his weight class ever since crocodile all the way back in alabasta, fighting enemies who clearly outmatch him but always managing to win anyways, but his fight with katakuri is maybe the clearest the sheer differential in strength ever gets, because katakuri’s powers are similar enough to luffy’s that he can pull off pretty much all of luffy’s techniques, but better. so luffy has to fall back on the two things that have always been his greatest strengths, again all the way back to crocodile in alabasta: innovation and sheer fucking stubbornness.

one thing i love about one piece is how no character is immune to being clowned on. absolutely nobody. everybody looks like an idiot sometimes, and it makes everything so much more fun than if the series took itself more seriously. katakuri basically actively tries to avert this by building up a fearsome, flawless, and utterly no-nonsense persona, but it winds up failing hard because it actually only makes the contrast and surprise of his actual personality and vices that much funnier.

i’ve always loved this one panel of carrot going sulong, because she just looks so monstrous, like a true werewolf. the same goes for the shift in big mom’s design when she starts going truly mad with starvation and gets even more threatening-looking (below). i just think oda should let women be monstrously scary more often.

i do really love that the entire climax of whole cake island hinges on the degree of trust and faith the strawhats, and sanji and luffy specifically, have in each other. they’re all facing massive challenges that would seem insurmountable to an outsider- luffy facing down a yonkou’s commander with a bounty of over a billion and sanji remaking a massive cake that took months to plan and make in just a few hours, the others evading big mom’s full forces and big mom herself for a full night- but none of them have even a shred of doubt that the others can manage it.

i wrote a meta post awhile back about one piece’s concept of ‘honor in a pirates’ fight, and what it came down to is this: honor can never be expected between pirates, but the best of them will show it anyways, and it can be a very telling judge of character. nobody would expect katakuri to do this, and luffy even calls him an idiot for it, but he has enough respect for luffy as a strong opponent to do it anyways, and that’s how we know for absolute certain that even though he’s an antagonist, he’s also a good, honorable person.

i really like the gesture of luffy leaving his hat over katakuri’s mouth, especially because until this point, we’re never even given any indication that he’s really noticed it, let alone that katakuri is insecure about it. he never reacts to or comments on it (which is in itself kind of unusual from someone who tends to nickname opponents by their appearances as often as luffy does) one way or another.

and then he does this, confirming all at once that he did fully notice and understand, he just doesn’t care. which i think sums up one of the more under-appreciated aspects of luffy’s character- he’s generally way more observant than people give him credit for, especially when it comes to people, it’s just that he has a very different sense of what’s important and what’s not than your average person.

i love the sheer contrast between big mom’s delighted, rapturous singing as she devours the wedding cake against the violence taking place on screen as her army rains fire and hell down on the thousand sunny. it parallels her initial introduction at the start of the arc perfectly, and is just an excellent way to close out the arc with a bang.

i said it earlier but it bears repeating here, for a different reason: luffy is not very physically intimidating. he’s shorter than most of the other main characters, he’s a lanky teenager, he dresses casually and his most identifiable accessory is a farm hat.

but then there are times when he looks like a captain, like a future pirate king, and it just looks so natural on him. i can never get over it.

i really like that, after spending a whole arc demonstrating just how different (and how much better) sanji is than the vinsmokes, it ends like this- showing us just how similar he’s grown up to the man he’s chosen as his real family, and just how proud zeff would be of him.

#the voyage so far #one piece #opmeta #arc: whole cake island #arc: zou #long post #not japanese

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eleanorfenyxwrites · 3 years

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Hi y'all!

So I realized today that it's been about three months since I started cross-posting my stuff to ao3 (those of y'all who were here for After Each Midnight while it was still a wip will know that I've been writing for longer than that but anyway). With the latest fic I just posted, I now have 30 works published to ao3 within those three months! Which is wild to me!

Since that averages out to ten fics a month and I like round numbers, I decided to celebrate by listing my 10 favorite fics...of my own lol. Narcissistic? Maybe! But it's fun anyway!

This is a really long post as each rec includes a summary, an excerpt (or a few), and some personal notes/anecdotes about the writing process or what inspired me to write the fic, etc. so I'm putting it all under the break. If this doesn't sound like your cup of tea then of course please just skip over this one, but for anyone who wants to revisit some of my older works with me, or if you're curious about which fics I personally like the most, or if you want to talk about your favorite fics of mine in the replies or anything, then that's cool too! I just wanted to find a way to mark this down because it feels like something of an achievement ^_^

Thank you!

1. After Each Midnight Begins A New Day, (54,401 words, Rated E) Ship(s): 3zun, Wangxian Summary: When Lan Xichen wakes up the morning after the fifth anniversary of his life crumbling to rubble around him in Guanyin Temple, he's shocked to find both Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao in his bed, both whole and alive and...married to him?! (A time travel fix-it in which the time traveling and fixing of things has already been done by Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, and Lan Xichen accidentally gets dragged along for the happily ever after.) Excerpt(s):

1. “Poor da-ge,” [Meng Yao] teases again, this time with a bit of an edge, and Lan Xichen cracks one eye open just enough to see him stripping first out of his shoes and socks, then his third layer of robes, then his second, until he’s dressed much as he had been the prior evening - in nothing but a black under-robe so sheer that it actually almost looks gray. It clings to all the petite, lithe curves of him and the sight makes Lan Xichen’s mouth practically water. “What if I want my turn with you now? What if I’m jealous that er-ge got to have you all to himself for hours , while your poor A-Yao had to go have a drink with Xian-didi just to pass the time.” “Oh gods you’re a beast too,” Nie Mingjue groans as Meng Yao slips on top of him gracefully to lean down and pepper kisses up and down his neck and shoulder. “Get off of me, foul creature. Go tempt our husband, I’m temporarily immune to your wiles.” “You’re never immune to my wiles, da-ge, and er-ge is meditating oh so diligently. He’s certainly not smiling and watching us through his lashes as if we’re not well aware of his tricks and what he likes to watch.” - 2. “It took years of practice, you with your painting and I with my answering, but when you were a teenager I finally decided on the best advice I could think to give you: Do not seek for every answer in this life all at once, Xichen,” he instructs with a smile as he returns to painting. “Let them come to you gently and in their season, and trust that all will be as it should in the end.” Lan Xichen takes another breath and returns to his painting with a slightly trembling hand - a trembling that ends up creating a lovely branch on the tree he is painting that, when he turns his head to look, is modeled almost exactly after the one growing in the garden behind the Gentian House, just beyond the window. “I don’t remember ever seeing this tree,” he whispers and Qingheng-Jun hums across from him in clear understanding. “And yet it flows from your brush all the same. Now we can all know that you have nothing to fear, your memories will also come to you in their season. Until then, allow yourself to rest, and remember that you have the support of your family whenever you need it.” “Yes, father,” he replies with a whisper and a tremulous smile, feeling lighter than he has in days. - 3. “I will go into seclusion.” The statement is a stone dropped into the gently rippling water of a spring-fed pool. The stone is jagged and pitted with all that the world has done to chip away at it, to make it rough and painful to the touch. It is sharp in his hands, heavy with all the hurts he still carries in his chest, all the grief he has no more room to hold. He feels lighter with it out of his grasp, the words settling into the ensuing silence with some bittersweet relief.

Notes: I know I've said it before but it bears repeating: this entire fic exists solely because of the smut scene in chapter 1. I thought of the smut first, and then the lead-in to it, and I intentionally left the end of chapter 1 ambiguous - it could have ended right there as an angsty one-shot with Lan Xichen believing that it was all a hallucination, and there's nothing really in the text to say that it's not because Lan Xichen is a very unreliable narrator in this fic. But then I wanted to write the backstory for the smut if, in fact, it wasn't a hallucination - and everything kind of...butterfly-effected out from there to become what it is now, along with all the extras in the series that's now roughly 120k long altogether and still not finished. Oops. Oh and also: this fic that started the ball rolling only exists because for some reason the servers for Omegle went down for months where I live, and prior to that I used to spend hours rp'ing. Without that creative outlet, I filled the vacuum with writing fic instead and now here we are. So if you're grateful for my fics then thank Omegle for sucking for a few months lol --//-- 2. Loving, Loud, Wild, and Theirs (7386 words, Rated T) Ship(s): Xuanli & Gen (kidfic), 3zun (briefly) - an extra for AEM Summary: A brief look at how in this kinder world, Jin Zixuan managed to find and legitimize his three siblings as well as a snapshot of the chaos of love and fun that is his family with his siblings, his beloved wife, and their seven children. Excerpt:

He had listened to [Madam Qin] and her handmaid, and he had believed them, and he had been unsurprised to find himself thinking quite uncharitably of his father following his promise to Madam Qin that he would do everything in his power to make it right, as much as he could. [Jin Zixuan and Meng Yao] return to Jinlintai the day after the next, once their business is concluded. He’s relieved when nothing needs his immediate attention as it means he’s free to retreat into his and Jiang Yanli’s quarters so he can tell her everything that’s weighing on his mind. “No more surprise siblings from now on,” he sighs into the comfort of Jiang Yanli's chest when he’s finished outlining what has happened and his plans to prepare a new suite of rooms in the family wing of the tower. For Qin Su. His sister. Jiang Yanli just laughs her tinkling laugh and kisses him, her hands gentle as she combs his hair back from his face with her fingertips. “You’ve got more siblings now than any of the rest of us,” she teases with a mischievous smile down at him that is a bit too reminiscent of, weirdly, both Wei Wuxian and Mo Xuanyu for comfort. “Two brothers, a sister, and of course we must keep Mianmian in her spot on the list. If you would like to count brothers-in-law as well you’ve also got A-Xian, A-Cheng, Huaisang, Wangji, Xichen, and Mingjue...” He groans and hides his face properly in the soft silk of her robes even as she laughs again over his head.

Notes: This fic is actually a request fill for someone and I had some trouble ending it because there's a lot more I want to write with this wild family, though I did eventually find what felt like a good place to cut it off with 3zun arriving in Jinlintai for the visit they leave for at the end of AEM. There is something of a follow-up floating around my wips that - if it ever gets written - is a direct sequel to AEM that continues where this extra leaves off, with 3zun getting to spend time with their hoard of niblings in Jinlintai. No promises about if/when that will get written though. --//-- 3. Performance Art (8106 words, Rated M) Ships: 3zun, Wangxian (briefly) Summary: A Modern AU inspired by the 'Hysterical Literature' performance art project. Lan Xichen, Nie Mingjue, and Meng Yao take turns doing their best to read aloud from chosen written works as they're filmed. The twist is that they're trying to do so as they're being pleasured with a vibrator controlled by one of their partners off-camera, each of their turns ending when the partner being filmed/played with has an orgasm. Excerpt(s):

1. “Engage people with what they expect; it is..- it…it is what they are able to discern and.. ngh.. confirms their projections. It settles.. ah settles them into predictable-“ He cuts off suddenly to set the book down flat and slap one hand down sharply on the tabletop. Meng Yao simply clicks another button and Nie Mingjue groans as his newly unoccupied hand twitches back to rest on the edge of the table closer to himself, as if about to drop down beneath it. Lan Xichen and Meng Yao both shift forward in their seats but Nie Mingjue catches himself before they have to intervene, returning his hand to the middle of the table and forcing a deep breath into his lungs so he can continue. “-Predictable patterns of..of response, occupying their minds while you w-wait for the ex- extra-“ he huffs out a sharp breath and curls his hand into a fist as he tilts forward and forces out the rest of the sentence in a rush. “Extraordinary moment — that whichtheycannotanticipate. FUCK!” - 2. It’s a few hours of quiet, peaceful work later when Lan Wangji shifts his weight in the way that means he wants Wei Wuxian’s actual attention and not his ‘ I’m sculpting so I’m periodically looking at you ’ sort of attention which he is, of course, quick to grant. He pauses in his muttering half to himself and half to Lan Wangji to say, “Hm? What’s up Zhanzhan?” “From Xiongzhang,” he says by way of explanation, holding his phone out for Wei Wuxian to squint at the screen. It takes him a moment to understand what he’s looking at, his eyes needing a second to adjust to the small black and white video that’s playing after having spent hours looking between Lan Zhan and the clay form taking shape under his hands. “What is this?” he asks as he leans in closer and squints a little harder. He blinks and his eyes go wide in the next moment as he realizes what’s happening on the screen as the woman’s tension climaxes ( literally ) - and then it’s just a hop, skip, and a jump to figure out just why he’d been asked to create an eerily similar setup in his own studio the previous afternoon for three men he might as well consider his sort-of brothers at this point. His next exhale is a wheeze as his ears go hot and Lan Wangji is instantly shrugging into a robe to stand from his lounging position and approach, concern written all over his features. “Wei Ying?”

Notes: I don't really have too much to say about this one except that it brought me so much joy and laughter to write and it honestly kind of surprises me that it's one of my less popular fics - it's nothing but a fun, sexy time! But I'm also terrible at guessing trends/what people will want to see so that might be on me haha. Oh! Also - a minor thing but something I'm very mildly proud of: the narrator voice is dependent on who's behind the camera! I wanted a way to make the person filming feel just as involved as the other two and I thought that was a fun way to do it since within the narrative it's technically going to be their perspective used for the video they're recording. Just to give y'all a little insight into my decision-making when it comes to my writing style for this one. --//-- 4. Anything For My Nie-Zongzhu (6411 words, Rated E) Ship: NieYao - pre-canon (just barely) Summary: Meng Yao is Nie Mingjue's trusted right hand, intelligent and valued by his Sect Leader, at least, who has learned lately to appreciate him a hell of a lot in private too - and for much more personal matters than the minutiae of running the Nie Sect. Seeing as Nie Mingjue trusts him so much, he finds it in himself to ask for something new - for Meng Yao to top him. [Technically an extra for AEM but can be read as a standalone] Excerpt:

“Am I to play into this boorish act you’re putting on tonight?” he teases instead as he steps closer until he’s near enough to feel the way the steam from the bath has turned the air sticky and humid. Nie Mingjue finally looks up at him and Meng Yao is internally crowing with triumph as he watches the lines of tension around his eyes and mouth fall away, his expression smoothing into quiet contentment. He did that. His presence alone is enough to help Nie Mingjue relax. It feels nearly as good as the day the man had angrily defended him to his own disciples and promoted him on the spot. “It’s not an act, I’m plenty boorish,” Nie Mingjue gruffs, returning his gaze to the letter, but this close Meng Yao can actually watch his eyes do nothing but try to glare a hole through the center of the page. “Of course you are, Zongzhu,” Meng Yao allows, his tone openly humoring - as is the smile tightening the corners of his mouth. “Therefore I can only suppose that you would prefer it if I returned to my walk and left you to continue your...correspondence in peace.”

Notes: Once again not really many notes on this one! I just love NieYao, I think their dynamic during Meng Yao's Nie Sect days has so much potential and I love exploring it every so often. --//--

5. Bite The Hands That Feed (1590 words, Rated E) Ship: XiYao Summary: After being forced out of the Nie Sect, Meng Yao has to come to grips with the hunger that's been chasing him his whole life, and he finds temporary satisfaction over and over in Lan Xichen, who is always so generous with his time and his body and is willing to help him feel less empty even just for a night. Excerpt:

He would never bite the hands that feed him, that stuff him full enough to make him believe for a moment that he’s no longer starving. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t inflict pains. He bites and he scratches and he plants himself in the bloody furrows until flowering moans reward his violent care, until pleasure bursts sun-warmed and sweet between them, berries ripe for the picking. He stains his mouth red with them, his fingers purple with the bruises he paints so delicately on his devotee’s body. If Meng Yao is being clawed to a slow torturous death from within, then it stands to reason that his other half will be ripped to shreds from without. He keeps his nails sharp and his teeth bared to tear into his flesh and drink sweetly of the vintage he offers - sweat, spend, blood, saliva when their mouths meet for crushing kisses. All of it is his to consume. He puts his mouth to the feast of Lan Xichen’s body and eats until the hunger pangs are satiated, drinks until he feels dizzy with it.

Notes: So I wrote this one when I was getting a little tired of the straight narration style of all my other fics and I wanted to try my hand at something looser, a little more prose-like but also a little darker than my usual fluff. I'm not sure how successful I was - this is actually one of my absolute least popular fics, number-wise! - but it's one of my favorites anyway. --//-- 6. A Figure, A Mouth (2788 words, Rated M) Ship: Wenzhou Summary: A quiet, intimate evening spent in the comfort of the Four Seasons Mountain Manor sometime between their arrival/fixing up of the place and the confrontation with Ye Baiyi. Excerpt:

After a while of warming each other up Wen Kexing urges him back up to push the bed under the window just as he’d said he would. Zhou Zishu takes the opportunity to blow out the candles before he rejoins Wen Kexing in their bed, the sudden darkness leaving them free to admire each other clothed in nothing but broad swathes of cool, sweet blue light bisected by deep black lattices of shadow from the trees out in the yard, the shadows from the contours of the wall and decorations around the window blocking and revealing them in turns. Lao Wen is, of course, as beautiful like this as he has been in every way Zhou Zishu has ever seen him, and he takes the time to savor it, to indulge in the decadence that Wen Kexing presents for each of his remaining senses. He’s a feast for the eyes, all hard muscle and skin glistening with glittering diamonds of sweat along his shoulders and the soft curve of his cheek. He’s a symphony for the ears, breathless desire and tender calls of his name that Zhou Zishu never lets go unanswered when they’re like this. By now Wen Kexing is an expert at drawing pleasure from him in every unlikely way there is to make sure that the effects of the nails don’t keep him from reaching his peak at least once, occasionally more in spite of his fading sense of touch.

Notes: Wenzhou makes me so soft and emotional, y'all. The next one on the list is also a Wenzhou fic and I just can't seem to stop writing them in fluffy/smutty situations because it's what they deserve. I really don't have anything more interesting to say about this fic, I just love them haha. --//-- 7. Tease Him Just Enough (2537 words, Rated M) Ship: Wenzhou Summary: A possible outcome if the conversation post-face reveal in episode 6 had gone differently - i.e. if Zhou Zishu had called Wen Kexing out on all his flirting and challenged him to do something about it - and then he does. Excerpt:

They don’t need words to communicate that at least right here in this particular moment there’s no one else they would rather have in their arms, pressed up against their bodies, no one else’s tongue who would find a new home in each other’s mouths or any other body their hands would rather explore. Wen Kexing has already known that they’re fated, but for the first time it feels like they’re agreeing to be so. Even if it’s just for a night. (Not that he thinks it will be just one night for them, but getting Zhou Xu to agree to anything remotely of the kind is like trying to drag a stray back-alley cat into a bath so he’ll take what he can get.)

Notes: My first fic for Word of Honor! The whole time I was watching the show (read: obsessively binge-watching) I was like 'Okay I like this show a lot but it's not nearly as compelling as The Untamed, idk if I'll be motivated to write anything for it'. Then I got to the end and I was like NEVERMIND YES I AM. I played myself. --//-- 8. You Need Tending (12,108 words, Rated T) Ship(s): Lan Wangji & Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji & Lan Xichen, Lan Qiren & The Jades & Wei Wuxian (this is a kidfic so nothing romantic!) Summary: Wei Wuxian is alone and homeless on the streets of Yunmeng, unaware of the presence of his parents' old friend so nearby. Lan Wangji is a child grieving for the loss of his mother in silence, overwhelmed by the world his uncle keeps dragging him out into. It takes their paths crossing more than once for Lan Qiren to realize just who Wei Wuxian is and that he needs their help, but he gets there eventually. Excerpt:

He watches on as the man comes to a stop next to the boys and squats down to check over the one who had been lost and suddenly he remembers lying on the ground and looking up at a stern-faced man with gentle hands and a ribbon across his forehead. The man who had given him medicine and bandages after a small boy had defended him from dogs, and an older boy had talked to him so kindly and helped him to sit up off the dirt. Wei Ying gasps as the memory hits and he scrambles back down off the roof, landing on the packed dirt of the space between the buildings with an oof, excitement bubbling in his chest. Along with the memory comes a name and it flies from his lips as he scrambles up off the ground to push his way into the crowd again. “Master Lan!” he shouts, his tiny voice lost in the din of the market. He tries to shove closer but the little family is already walking away, their backs to him as he strains against the flow of people much bigger and stronger than him. “Master Lan!” he tries again, desperation lending extra strength and emotion to his cry. Wei Ying stops struggling as he watches the two boys in white walk away, the pair of them flanking Master Lan in his sky blue robes as they move through the market, radiating serenity in the midst of the chaos. His vision blurs and he scrubs his forearm against his eyes angrily to dry them, trying to keep the three of them in his sight for as long as he can just in case they turn around and spot him. Just in case they remember him and maybe want to tell him to come with them.

Notes: Baby Wei Ying T-T He just hits me right in the heart, and so does baby Lan Zhan! And baby Lan Xichen. All the babies. This fic was actually completely inspired by an utterly adorable fanart of Lan Xichen giving a grumpy baby A-Zhan a piggyback ride! I'd been wanting to write a kidfic type fix-it for a while and that art was the spark I needed to come up with something workable. (Edit: here’s my reblog of the art I’m talking about!) --//--

9. Familial Circumstances (5393 words, Rated G)

Ship(s): Lan Qiren & Original Characters, Lan Qiren & Jin Zixuan, Lan Qiren & Qin Su, Lan Qiren & Mo Xuanyu - An extra for AEM

Summary: Another kidfic extra for the horde of children in Jinlintai, this time as seen through the lens of their beloved Great Uncle Lan. It's a simple relationship-study-type look at how all the children love their Great Uncle and how much he loves and treasures them in return.

Excerpt:

An unusual stillness accompanies [Jin Ruhai's] playing. Jin Lu stops fidgeting with her fingers, the twins slip into the perfect stillness of those who are utterly aware of themselves at all times - a trait [Lan Qiren has] noticed in every skilled fighter he’s ever come across - and even Jin Ye relaxes, slumping further and further backwards until she’s slouched down against his stomach, legs dangling over his crossed shins.

The piece isn’t a terribly long one, nor as complex as the next score Lan Qiren intends to teach the boy, but Jin Ruhai’s mastery of it is impressive. Again, Lan Qiren is forcefully reminded of Lan Wangji, always most at peace when behind his instrument to play with and/or for the people he loves.

There’s silence in the room until the last note fades with a shiver into the air and Jin Ruhai pulls his hands back from the instrument. The stillness lasts for one more moment before it’s interrupted by Jin Lu sneezing suddenly and her siblings laugh as the quiet breaks.

“I had to hold that in the whole time !!” Jin Lu laughs as she rubs her sleeve under her nose, one eye screwed shut as she giggles. “I didn’t want to mess up A-Zhuang’s song, it’s so pretty!”

Notes: I'm definitely biased because they're all my oc's except for Jin Ling, but I genuinely love all of the Jin children in the AEM AU. If anyone is ever interested in knowing more about their individual personalities and the like please don't hesitate to ask me, I've actually put quite a bit of thought into all 6 of the kids I created wholecloth and I have a lot of feelings about Jin Ling getting the chaotic siblings and loving parents he was robbed of.

--//--

10. Opportunities To Practice (5710 words, Rated M) (*WIP)

Ship: Xuanli - An extra for AEM

Summary: Jin Zixuan is nervous for his..marital activities with Jiang Yanli - after all, who could he possibly ask for advice? His father? No thank you. Thankfully Jiang Yanli is sweet and patient and knows her husband well - he just needs a bit of time and he'll get it figured out.

Excerpt:

She shivers with an interesting combination of want and intense vulnerability as she stands there, feeling bare in spite of her remaining layer. It’s of a material so sheer as to be practically nonexistent, nothing more than a delicate veil of a red so pale it’s nearly pink that sits on her body like a second skin. Until it falls gently away at the knee to flutter around her ankles, it clings to every curve, every contour, and as she watches Jin Zixuan doesn’t even bother to hang the robe he had just removed on the screen. He lets it drop into a soft pool around her bare feet, his gaze roaming her newly exposed figure - she would perhaps feel strange about it did he not look so devoted , so in awe of seeing her practically naked in front of him.

Yanli gasps softly as he suddenly drops to his knees at her feet and oh - that’s heady. Her body, which she hasn’t really thought of too much in the past beyond the occasional irritation that it’s weaker than she would prefer, has put the man she loves on his knees. He’s looking up at her now, his eyes wide and his hands reverent as he raises them to rest on her thighs, thumbs caressing her too-warm skin through the barely-there robe that bunches up softly under the pressure of his grip.

“You’re right,” he finally breathes, sounding slightly strained. “I’d like this to stay on. If that’s - are you alright?”

“I am,” she reassures.

Notes: This last fic is technically a wip, the only one in the list! However! - it's going to be a collection of one-shots centered around Xuanli and their sexual exploits that lead to their seven children, and possibly also the ones that are just for fun (horny Yanli rights forever). It's not currently high on my list of priorities or anything and the one chapter that's up so far can stand on its own so it's a wip but it's not? I just love Xuanli so much and I want to explore their relationship in my happy fix-it AU whenever the mood strikes, and whenever that happens this is where those one-shots will go.

--//--

And that's it! My personal top 10 favorite fics of my own as of right now. I thought about doing my top 10 according to statistics like hit counts or kudos, but I genuinely love some of these unpopular fics and I wanted to give them some love and attention even if it's just for me. I know there's a lot here to sift through but if any of y'all enjoyed the list or any of the specific fics on it let me know! I liked taking this little pause to take a look at what I've actually been producing these last few months.

Thanks for reading!

#the untamed fanfic #gonna tag the main romantic ships listed:#3zun #NieYao #XiYao #Wangxian #Xuanli #Wenzhou #y'all I legit spent hours formatting this and writing all this out #I also went looking for the fanart that inspired You Need Tending so I could link it and my page refreshed #which I suspected it would do so of course I hit Ctrl+A and copied it all -#only to find out that doing that doesn't extend past the readmore break which I had already put in #so I lost the whole introductory bit and had to rewrite it #T-T I didn't even find the fanart I'm gonna look for it again on mobile cuz it's easier #ANYWAY - literally no one asked for this and I don't even know if anyone was curious to begin with but I wanted to make this anyway soooo #It's also lowkey one of my goals to write something one day that becomes popular enough to end up on rec lists #So this is me kind of indulging that in a very 'tooting my own horn' kind of way that I refuse to apologize for #No shame in my game #Also if you see any typos or formatting weirdness No You Don't :) I've been doing this for 5+ hours and I'm hUNGRY

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effiethebookworm · 3 years

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TSE Appreciation Week Day One!

Hurrah, my first TSE Appreciation Week is here!! I have been preparing since late May, and I am almost done with all my fanfictions! Here is the first one. It is called Heirloom, like the theme for today. It uses both the Heirloom prompt and family dynamic prompt, even though the Shephards aren’t my favorite family. It was my first ever attempt at choose-your-own-adventure, and it turned out...decent, I think.

Heirloom

In this Choose-Your-Own-Adventure Fanfiction, you are a young Prince Joshua of Cedulan. That's all you really need to know for now, so enjoy!

“Come on, Granpappy!” your oldest daughter Aphera yells from on top of the hill that you and your father are climbing. “Don't you want to sled with me?” Your father, King Amnon, chuckles.

“I'm coming, Aphera. Remember, patience-” she interrupts him. “Is a virtue. I know, Granpappy.” Amnon leans heavily on his cane as he walks.

“Would you like to stop for a moment, Father?” you ask.

“No, no. Aphera needs me.” Although he's only fifty-three years old, many years of ruling the kingdom of Cedulan have taken their toll. His beard is almost entirely gray, and his face is covered in wrinkles. He is tired more and more, although his eyes always twinkle when he plays with his granddaughters. Adara pulls on your gloved hand.

“Up,” she says in her quiet but insistent voice. You scoop her up and put her on your shoulders.

“Walking in the snow is hard, isn't it?” You ask. You crane your neck to see her nod her head vigorously. You are all at the top of the hill now. Aphera is constructing a snowman. Adara pulls on your ear, her signal for down. You reach up and grab her tiny hands.

“Ready?” you say. She squeals in response. You yank her forward, off your shoulders and swing her onto the ground. Aphera, watching, exclaims,

“I want a turn, Daddy!” Amnon interrupts.

“I thought you wanted to sled!”

“Weeeeeelllll, I guess we can sled now and do horsie rides later.”

“What's sledding?” Adara says.

“Here, Dara, I'll show you!” Aphera sits down on the sled. “Daddy?” You walk over and give her a push. She flies down the hill, whooping and calling. Adara's eyes grow wide with jealousy.

“I want to, Daddy!” she whispers. “Wait until Aphera comes back. You can sled with me then.” Aphera trudges up the hill, panting, sled in tow. Her woolly dress, coat, stockings, boots, hair, and even eyelashes are caked with snow.

“I almost hit a tree, but I didn't!” she proudly announces. “Adara, you wanna go with me?” Before Adara can respond, you tell her,

“Since this is her first year, I think she should only go with adults.” Aphera frowns. Amnon walks over and says,

“You can go with me next, after them.” You grab Adara's hand and walk with her to the sled that Aphera dropped into the snow. You plop down in the back, plop your boots firmly into the snow, and tell her,

“Sit here, in the front.” She does, and you hand her the reins of the sled. “Hold on tight to these.” You release your boots, and push off. As you gain speed, you see a wide grin spread on Adara's face. You go over a small bump, and are airborne for a moment. Adara laughs. You are very surprised. Adara has only laughed three times before in her life. As you slow to a stop at the bottom of the hill, she rolls off. She giggles while you grab the sled, sit her on it, and start pulling it up the hill. Her giggles eventually stop, and as you reach the top of the hill, you hear a scream from Aphera.

“Granpappy!” You sprint up the hill with the sled behind you. Adara, quickly realizing that she is extra weight to pull, rolls off the sled and starts running beside you. She is surprisingly fast for a three-year-old, almost keeping up with you. As soon as you reach the top of the hill, you see what made Aphera scream. Amnon is lying on the ground, his face contorted into a grimace. Aphera is standing over him, hysterically sobbing.

“Granpappy, Granpappy, wake up!” You shake him.

“Father. Father, speak to me.” He moans.

If you tell the girls to run for help, and stay with your father, go to 2.

If you try to scoop him up and take him to the palace yourself, go to 3.

“Adara, Aphera, run home as fast as you can and tell the doctor to come here now.”

“But-” Aphera says, but Adara clasps her hand and starts running towards the palace. You put your hand directly in front of his mouth and nose. His breathing is fast and shallow. You look him over. No blood, no signs of an injury. You feel his forehead. Normal temperature. Please, you pray, let the doctor come quickly. At this, you hear the sound of a galloping horse.

“Help!” you yell. “The king is ill!” The horse and rider come up the hill.

“Prince Joshua, are you al-” the rider sees Amnon on the ground. “My King!” You are annoyed.

“Yes, and he's ill. I need to get him to the palace as soon as possible.” The man considers this. “Put him on my horse. I can sit behind and make sure he doesn't fall.”

“Thank you.” You manage to get Amnon onto the horse, and he is quickly taken to the palace. You grab the sled (Adara would be devastated if it was stolen) and run to the palace.

If you check on your daughters and then your father, go to 4.

If you check on your father first, go to 5.

You start to panic. What am I going to do? An idea strikes you. You roll your father onto his back. He groans softly.

“Hang in there, Dad.” you whisper. You grab him under his shoulders and knees and hoist him up. You stagger backwards for a few steps, startled by his weight. Muscle is heavier than fat, you remind yourself, and he was quite fit. You start walking down the hill, slowly. You hear Aphera crying behind you, but you can't turn around. Suddenly, you slip on the now-icy snow. Thankfully, Amnon lands on top of you instead of the ice. You get an idea.

“Adara, bring the sled to me, please.” She arrives momentarily with the sled in tow. You roll your father onto it, grab the reins, and start pulling him.

“Tell me if he falls off,” you direct Adara. She grunts in response. As you jog over the snowy hills, the palace slowly gets closer. You are out of breath and sweaty now, and you almost collapse when you reach the gates. A guard with an elegant fur cloak greats you.

“Prince Joshua, how are you?”

“King Amnon, f-fell and needs-needs a doctor.” you manage to pant out. The guard notices your father on the sled, and shouts something. Suddenly, ropes fall from the turrets above you, and two more cloaked guards slide down. One of them pulls a tiny key from inside her jerkin, and uses it to open a hidden door next to the drawbridge. The other guard opens his arms and faces up. You are confused, until a large object drops from the top of the building and the guard caught it. He unfolds it, and you see that it is a stretcher. The guards put him on it, and carry him through the secret door and into the darkness of the palace. You are in shock, both from your father's collapse and the complete preparedness of the guards. You knew that all of them were medically trained, in case of an accident, but you had no idea that they were this good. You quickly remember that you left Aphera and Adara behind. You turn around and see them a few feet behind you.

“Girls, why don't you go to the nursery. I'm sure Mother is expecting you.” They nod, still sniffling, and the guard escorts them inside. You stand there still, almost unable to move.

If you check on your daughters and then your father, go to 4.

If you check on your father first, go to 5.

As you open the door to the East Wing of the palace, the familiar smell of the Christmas Feast hits you like a mace. The memories of past feasts with your parents and siblings, Isis, the girls. This will be April's first, you think. And possibly Father's last. You manage to get to the royal suite, and into the nursery. As you open the doors, Aphera and Adara rush to your side. Good, they managed to get back.

“Daddy, is Granpappy alright?” Aphera asks. You manage to smile and say,

“I'm sure he will be.” Isis stands up out of the rocking chair, holding April. She hands April to Aphera.

“Girls, why don't you take April for a walk?” Aphera's face brightens a bit.

“Maybe we can teach her how to walk.” You can feel a headache coming on.

“She's only two months old, Aphera. There's-” Isis elbows you.

“Well, you can try. But don't drop her.” They walk out of the room, and you collapse into Isis' arms. She leads you to sit down, and you fall onto the bed. Your throat hurts because the tears won't come. Isis sits next to you.

“Aphera told me what happened. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” you whisper. “I am a grown man, the crown prince of Cedulan. Feelings are below me.” Isis frowned.

“You were happy when April was born, right?” You nod. “And angry when King Bhatair called you a royal pinnacle of idiocy?” You groan. “Well, those are feelings too. And if you can enjoy happiness and indulge anger, why do you refuse to cry?”

“Weakness,” you hiss, barely making noise. Your throat is throbbing now. “I cannot show weakness to anyone, ever. Not when I'm in battle, not at home, not even alone with you. Weakness is the mark of a coward.” Isis stands.

“The true coward is the one who is afraid of his own feelings. I'll leave you alone.”

Go to 5.

You walk through the halls of the vast royal suite towards your father's room. The last time you had been there was four years ago when your mother died. She had been bloodily assassinated by a man with an ax. He still hadn't been caught, and you sometimes had nightmares about him. As you reach the door to the atrium for your father's room, you notice a few nurses ducking in and out of the door, murmuring to each other. You open the door to the atrium and the doctor greets you.

“Good afternoon, Prince Joshua.” Skipping the pleasantries, you say,

“How is my father?” The doctor's face falls.

“I am afraid that he has suffered a heart attack. He will die very soon, probably this week.” Oddly, you don't feel sad. Just.... numb. Like you are completely detached from the situation. Like nothing exists anymore.

“Oh,” you hear, and realize that it was you. “May I see him?”

“Yes.” The doctor opens the door and ushers you in. The room is rich, filled with deep purples and blues, satin and mahogany. A very old man is lying on the bed. You realize that it is your father. He turns to you.

“Hello, Joshua.”

“Hello, Father.”

“I'm sorry I spoiled your outing with the girls.”

“No, Father. Don't apologize. It isn't your fault.” He smiles slightly.

“I want to give you and the girls and Isis some presents, for Christmas.”

“But Christmas is in two days. Why not then.” He smiles again.

“Please bring them, as soon as you can.”

“Yes, sir.”

Go to 6.

“Granpappy, are you okay?” Aphera asks as soon as she sees Amnon. He deftly changes the subject.

“How would you girls like your Christmas presents a few days early?” He asks. Aphera claps her hands. “Yay! Presents!”

Two servants come out of the corner, each holding a small stack of presents. Amnon takes a large one off of the top, and hands it to Aphera. She quickly tears off the paper, and opens the box. Inside are a small assortment of items. On top are a pair of boots, made of supple black leather with golden buckles. They are a bit too large, but you can easily tell that she loves them. She tries them on happily.

“They're beautiful, Granpappy!” “They're a bit large, but you'll grow.” His eyes glow at seeing her so excited. She picks up the next item, a silver locket. She opens it, and inside is a tiny, yet amazingly lifelike painting of her and Amnon laughing together. She gasps.

“The locket belonged to your grandmother's mother, and I had the painting made.”

“It looks just like me and you!” Aphera says with wonder. She puts it on carefully.

“I'll wear it every day.” She picks up the next, and smallest item. It is a tiny key that you have never seen before. “What is this?” she asks. You are wondering the same thing.

“There is an old Cedulanian custom that before a king dies, he passes on this key to the oldest child of his oldest child, unless that child is over the age of fifteen, in which case it should be passed to the next youngest sibling. Joshua,” he says, now addressing you. “I am sorry that I couldn't pass the key to you. I truly wished to, when you were a boy, but the tradition must be followed.” He turns back to Aphera. “This key unlocks one door in the palace. When you find it, use what you find there well. It will help you, if you know what to do.” He winks at her, and she giggles. You notice what Aphera didn't, that Amnon acknowledged that he is dying.

“Thank you, Granpappy. I love you!” She climbs onto his bed, and wraps her little arms around him.

“I love you too, Aphera.”

He gives her a pat on the head, and announces,

“It's your turn, Adara.” Adara steps forward, and receives a smaller box. She carefully unwraps it, and folds the wrapping paper into a neat square. She opens the box, and stares at the contents inside. She pulls out a thin book, and murmurs,

“What is this?”

“This is a journal, cursed by your great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother Melete Dolan to never run out of pages. It has been used by many before you. When you learn to read, read it and let the wisdom of your forefathers and foremothers guide you. Someday, you will also write in it, and pass it on to your children. I gave it to your aunt when she was a girl, but she died as a child.” His eyes cloud over, remembering a painful past. Adara opens to the middle, and a hair clip falls out. It is studded in tiny amethysts and onyx. She holds it up to the candlelight, and the room is instantly filled with tiny rainbows and shimmering light.

“That,” Amnon says, “has belonged to every middle daughter since Alla Jamiese, Melete Dolan's fourth daughter. It belonged to my mother,” he takes a deep breath, “Antigone Shephard.” Everyone in the room except April gasps. It is taboo, though not forbidden, to utter the name of Antigone Shephard. You are shocked. Your parents named you Joshua only because they wanted to break the a-name tradition to distance themselves from Antigone. You had heard rumors that they had wanted to name you Adam, but were too stubborn. Your father continued.

“Adara, that hairpiece holds much history of powerful women. There is a legend that the clip itself holds characteristics of its previous owner. I beg of you, always be careful. Do not allow Antigone's mark to hold power over you. You are young now, and you will forget my words.” He turns to you.

“Joshua, Isis, remind her when she is older.” Adara interrupts.

“Granpappy, if it is so dangerous, why are you giving it to me?” You are shocked. Adara has never uttered a sentence this long before.

“My dear, the legend also tells of the reversal of power. If it is true, you will have the power that Antigone used for evil. You can, and must, use it for good.” Aphera nods, and you pick her up and put her on the bed. Amnon kisses her gently on the forehead, and she smiles. She jumps down on her own, and Amnon beckons for Isis, still holding April, to step forward.

“April. Little April, you will not remember me. So I leave to you my Collection.” Your eyes widen. Every member of a Levantine royal family, Cedulanian, Bellingwrathe, Amethystie, Desdemonian, and so on, has a Collection. Every collection has an object from each year of the person's life, usually on a theme. It was a tradition that the Collection was buried with you, so this was highly unusual. Amnon pulls another box off of the pile and hands it to you. You start to open it, but the king stops you, saying,

“No, Joshua. Let her open it on her birthday.”

“Which one?” you ask.

“The second one after she learns how to read. I left her a note in there. I wish for her to read it herself.”

“Yes sir.” You bow.

“Isis, this is for you,” he says, picking up a tiny box, the last from the pile.

“Thank you, Amnon.” she says as she opens it. She gasps. “Oh Joshua, look!” Inside is a ring, a necklace, and a bracelet. They are all made of pure gleipnir, the most valuable substance on all of Elladess. Amnon chuckles.

“Yes, that is the Queen's Jewelry.” Isis frowns.

“But I'm not-” “You will be soon.” Amnon smiles sadly. Isis side-hugs him. You notice her eyes are watery. Come to think of it, so are yours. No emotion. No sadness.

“Joshua, it is now your turn.” The king shifts in bed, and pulls something off of his belt. Your heart starts to race. You've been waiting for this moment all of your life.

“Prince Joshua of Cedulan,” he says, “I, King Amnon II of Cedulan, now present to you the Silver Eye, cursed by your ancestor Melete Dolan. Use it well, wisely, and mercifully. Never bring it into Nedarian buildings, or use it for evil. Do you promise that you will uphold these rules?”

“I do.”

“Do you promise to hand it down to the next heir to the throne when you die?”

“I do.” Your father pulls out a long, purple and silver telescope from a small leather pouch, and bids you,

“Kneel.” You do, and you hold your arms, bent at the elbows, above your head. He places the telescope gently into your hands. The metal is cool, and the telescope is the perfect weight. Lighter than a broadsword, but heavier than a sabre.

“Rise, Prince Joshua, rightful owner of the Silver Eye. You have taken the oath, and it is now yours.” You slowly rise, and your father sits up and ties the case around your waist. Then he falls back onto the pillow, tired.

“Thank you, Father.” You say. “You are tired. We will leave now.”

“You are welcome, my son.” Amnon says exhaustedly.

“Goodbye, Granpappy.” Aphera says, and Adara waves.

“Farewell, my girls. I love you very much.” You herd the girls out of the room, and back to your family's suite. You go down to the kitchens and ask for dinner to be brought up to you while Isis helps the girls into their nightgowns and robes. You return and eat, and then put the girls to bed. You and Isis then go to bed too, although you cannot sleep. You lie there for hours, thinking.

“You can't do him any good by not sleeping.” You are startled.

“I thought you were asleep.” You tell Isis.

“Goodnight, Joshua,” she says.

You take her advice, and fall asleep quickly.

Go to 7.

As soon as you wake, an attendant is by your side.

“Sir, I am sorry to inform you that your father passed away in his sleep.”

“What?” Your mind is foggy from sleep and you don't understand.

“Sir, your father died in his sleep. You are the king now.” The servant is down on one knee. “My king.”

Isis murmurs something next to you.

“Isis. Wake up.” you almost say, but decide to let her sleep. You wish that you could have. You will never be able to again. You kiss her on the forehead, and silently slide out of bed.

THE END

#tseweek2021 #joshua shephard #choose your own adventure #fanfiction #the silver eye

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lovelucybradford · 3 years

Text

I Pretend You’re Mine~Three

A/N: Thank you again, so much, for your kind and encouraging comments. It makes me so happy that you’re enjoying this.

Trigger warning: Rosalie has plane accident anxiety, gets high off of Dramamine, and wants to fight some hoes

Masterlist

And without further ado, I present to you...

Chapter Three: I Get Drunk On Jealousy

Rosalie had never been a good sleeper on the night before a vacation. Normally, she would spend the hours tossing and turning in bed, her mind whirring with anticipation at the upcoming events or thinking of the impending doom of a plane flight. Last night followed the same predictable pattern: lie awake counting the ruffles in the popcorn ceiling, think about planes falling out of the sky, roll over, curl into ball, think about something else to ease the anxiety...

Save for one difference--an earlier conversation with Laura played in Rose’s head over and over like a drive-in showing of the newest heart-pounding flick.

“You haven’t seen my idiot brother, have you?” Laura muttered as soon as Rosalie opened the door, suspicious eyes scanning the apartment in search of a hiding Derek. She didn’t wait for Rose’s reply and walked into the living room, plopping down on the sofa.

“Well, hello to you, too. Not that you’re not always welcome, but what are you doing here? You could have called. And why are you looking for Derek?” Rosalie questioned, resting her hip on the doorframe.

Laura rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “He hasn’t been home in days, he missed family dinner Sunday night, he won’t answer texts or calls. I think he’s hiding from my mother. I—”

“Why would he be hiding from your mother? I mean, for God’s sake, he’s a thirty-year-old man—”

“Can you blame him from hiding? You know what my mom’s like when she’s pissed.”

“Why’s she pissed at Derek? As far as I know, he hasn’t done anything deserving of the wrath of Mama Hale.”

Laura crossed her arms, a signature Hale glare aimed right at Rosalie.

Rose questioned Laura’s unwarranted expression with a glare of her own. “What?”

The scowl etched on Laura’s face just grew further. “You’re honestly going to lie to my face?”

At Rosalie’s clueless expression, Laura sighed, throwing her hands up into the air, “What kind of game are you and Derek playing?”

Rose’s heart began to beat a little faster. Could Laura know about their little white lie? No, she couldn’t have. All joking aside, Rosalie’s friend group had sworn not to tell anyone else. But it wasn’t like they kept in contact with the other Hale siblings to begin with…

Laura stood, grabbing the other woman by the wrist and pulling her to sit, in the teal armchair, across from her.

“Tell me. Whose idiotic idea was it to tell your whackass family that you and Derek are engaged? Yours or his?”

Rosalie’s jaw dropped, but Laura looked unaffected.

“How…how did you find out?” Rose breathed, knowing she was caught red-handed.

“Your father called my mother to congratulate her on having ‘an esteemed Martin daughter’ joining the family—”

“Of course, he did,” Rosalie muttered into her palm.

“—Then asked when you and Derek were planning on officially announcing the engagement.”

Rosalie purposefully stared at the gold buttons that outlined the armchair. One of them was loose. That would have to be fixed. Now that she knew about it, it would drive her nuts. “And… what did Talia say?”

“She said that she’s overjoyed that you’ll be an ‘official’ Hale, and that she’d be sure to pass along his concerns to you. Then, she called my brother to ask why the fuck she just had to lie to Jason Martin and what in the world you two were scheming up.”

That surprised Rosalie. Talia Hale was a woman of great poise; it was rare that she lost her temper. “Wait, she actually dropped the ‘f’ bomb? Why was she so angry? So what, we may have fibbed a little.”

The accent pillow from Rose’s sofa hit her in the face, forcing her to look at Laura. Laura’s lips were pursed, face growing redder with frustration.

“SO WHAT? Good God, you two are the stupidest smart people that I know!”

The condescending tone of her voice caused Rosalie to raise her haunches. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”

“It means that this is, by far, the dumbest con you two have come up with. And this beats the night that you and Derek got drunk on his 21st birthday and you dared him to go streaking down Main Street.”

“Why? You don’t think that Derek and I can play a convincing couple? Because I’ll have you know that we both won the Best Thespian award during our respective senior years, even though D—”

Laura stood, exploding. “That’s just it, Rosalie! You’ll both play madly in love very well, too well actually, and I…”

She ran a hand through her brown hair, walking to the window and facing the expanse of city below. Softly, Laura added, “I don’t want to see you two get hurt.”

She sounded so vulnerable, it made Rosalie wonder the reasoning behind those fears. Derek and her, they would never hurt each other. The two friends both cared too much. “And why would you think that?”

Laura whipped around to face Rosalie so quickly that she wondered how her pseudo-sister hadn’t gotten whiplash. “Must I spell it out for you? Obviously, I must. You two have been in love with each other since you were kids.”

No. No. Rosalie had feelings for him (albeit repressed), sure, but they certainly weren’t love. She swore she would never get herself into that mess again. And Derek… no way. Like he could ever love her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I… Derek… we’re not in love.”

“You keep telling yourself that, sweetie. Tell me how denial goes for you. Just don’t come back to me crying when this whole ploy of yours blows up in your face spectacularly.”

Was Laura right? Would this all end in burning flames? That question had ruminated in Rosalie’s head all night long.

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty!” A slap on the leg jolted Rose wide awake. She looked to her left, finding the culprit grinning in satisfaction as his eyes scanned the road ahead.

Rosalie rolled her eyes, slumping against the passenger door to glare out the window at the streaks of artificial light that came from the surrounding buildings as we passed. “Go to hell, Peter.”

“I’ve been there, sweetie. Feels right at home. And besides, you’re getting to spend a week in paradise. I think you can sacrifice a little sleep.”

“So you woke me up because you’ve got FOMO?”

“You could have gotten a ticket, too. You have enough money,” Lydia chimed in from the back seat. Her voice was low with latent sleep, Lydia not much more alert than Rosalie.

Peter sighed dramatically, always one for fanfare. “No, I could not have. Rosalie’s father’s restraining order still stands… and I’m permanently banned from the state of Hawaii.”

Stiles perked up immediately, elbows leaning on his knees so he could listen in closer. “This is a story I have to hear.”

At the same time, looking to Peter in her peripheral, Rose commented, “You’re lucky you got off that easy. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Stiles reached across Lydia to poke Derek spastically in the bicep.

“What did he do? What did he do?” Stiles questioned Derek like an excited little boy.

Derek groaned. “This fucker commandeered Jason Martin’s yacht and took it for a drunken joyride like he was Jack fucking Sparrow. He went around picking up a bunch of women and partied until the Coast Guard pulled up.”

To himself, Peter muttered, “Boats and hoes.”

Rosalie scowled. “You had to go and call the female cop a dirty wench.”

Peter looked irritated. “Um, excuse me. I may not remember much from that night, but I’m pretty sure my exact words were, ‘Ahoy there, you sexy wench! Give me some of that booty.’”

Stiles laughed hysterically. Rosalie reached around in her seat to smack him on the forehead. “Don’t encourage him!”

Peter shifted the car into park and turned towards the group in the back. “We’re finally here. Now, get the fuck out of my car so I can go back to sleep.”

________________________

Her pillow was hard—unusually so. She specifically remembered buying the fluffiest one in the store. So why did it feel like she was sleeping against a wall? Rosalie inhaled deeply, the woodsy scent flooding her nostrils. The brick wall smelled amazing. She greedily burrowed further into the pillow. The pillow that was becoming less hard and more… prickly.

The pillow shook slightly, Rosalie’s torso moving along with it. The hazy ring of a laugh resounded amidst the mechanical buzzing of the airplane.

“Are you smelling me?” came a familiar voice. The woman turned her head slightly, only to find that her pillow was not a pillow, and instead was the shoulder of her best friend.

Rosalie smiled happily up at him. “Hey Derek!”

He grinned back, green eyes dancing with amusement. “Hey princess. Sleep well, I assume?”

“Mmm, yeah. So good. The best.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re about two hours outside of Orlando. Just a reminder, the fasten seatbelt sign is on. We may run into some turbulence here.”

Rosalie lifted her heavy head from Derek’s shoulder, leaning back fully on the cushion of her seat. Her eyes hazily scanned the encapsulated ceiling. A blast of cold air hit her straight in the face.

“God, is that you?” Rosalie questioned curiously, “Why are you telling me to fasten my seatbelt. I always wear my seatbelt, you know that. I am a responsible driver.”

Derek laughed again. “Holy shit, you’re so high.”

Rosalie smacked her lips, mouth suddenly feeling cotton dry. “I require a beverage.”

Stiles peeked his head over the seat.

Rose stared up at him in awe. “Stiles, you really are a Jedi! You’ve mastered levitation!”

Stiles gave her a weird look. “First you’re saying that you require a ‘beverage’, now you’re thinking that I’m levitating.” His focus turned to scrutinize Derek. “I told you we shouldn’t have given her Dramamine!”

Rose’s body suddenly felt heavy again, so she slumped over and used Derek to support her weight. Derek’s head was stretched all the way up; he was yelling back at Stiles. For what, Rosalie didn’t understand. “Would you rather she spends the whole flight puking her guts out? You know she has motion sickness!”

Rosalie blindly reached a finger up and to her left until she poked Derek in the nose. “Derek. Derek. Der. I need a beverage.”

Derek wrapped his hand around hers and brought their hands down to rest between them. His free hand ran through his hair.

“The drink cart’s coming. It should be here soon.”

Rosalie narrowed her eyes, focusing on Derek’s hair and not his words. The black locks were disheveled, the right side sticking up in a very unattractive manner. She stretched up to pat his hair down.

“Yes, thank you. Ok. The stewardess is coming,” Derek said, clearly not appreciating her fixing.

Rosalie shrugged and went back to lying her head on his shoulder, trying not to inhale when she caught another whiff of cedarwood. Damn, that scent was addicting.

The perky stewardess appeared almost instantly, almost like she was at Derek’s beck and call. She might as well have been, with the way she was looking at him.

The woman was young, likely around Rosalie’s age. She wore a navy blazer over a white button-up shirt, with one too many buttons undone. Even her scarf couldn’t hide that cleavage—eye-drawing cleavage. And it’s like the stewardess knew it, too, with the way that she pulled down her shirt as soon as she stepped in front of the two in the aisle. Her brown eyes scanned Derek hungrily, not an unusual occurrence when it came to Derek Hale.

Intuitively, Rosalie’s blue eyes scanned the hand still in Derek’s for the ring that she was sure she put on this morning, the sapphire that got them into this mess in the first place. Just as Rosalie thought, it was still secured around her left ring finger.

The pretty blonde flight attendant flipped her long hair and smiled brilliantly at Derek.

“How can I help you, sweetheart?” she fawned, voice thick with a southern drawl.

Rose watched her like a hawk. She didn’t like that look, nor the subtle flirting. Not when it was obvious that he was engaged.

Rosalie put on the sweetest smile she could muster in her slowly angering state. “I’d love a ginger ale. Thank you.”

The stewardess didn’t even look at Rosalie as she spoke; she was still smiling brightly at Derek.

“Would you like a champagne? It’s on the house, for a pretty face like yours.”

Rosalie’s blood boiled at the woman’s blatant flirting with her fiancé. It sobered Rosalie immensely. She raised her head from Derek’s shoulder, moving their joined hands to her lap where the sapphire ring would be obvious.

The flight attendant’s gaze grazed briefly to Rosalie’s hand. It was as if she was unfazed.

Rosalie’s brows stretched tightly upward as she channeled Big Hale Energy to the best of her ability. The words came flying out of her mouth before she could really even think them through. She was beyond pissed.

“I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and say that you’re just too stupid to see the ring on my finger. Because I highly doubt that American Airlines would appreciate one of their employees whoring it up for someone else’s fiancé.”

The look on the woman’s face was priceless. Finally, Rosalie got a reaction on that steely, perfect face of hers, one that reminded Rose eerily of her stepsister, Ashleigh. The other woman’s jaw dropped, noisily gasping for breath.

The gasps echoed across the cabin. Derek’s hand stiffened in Rose’s.

“I am so sorry. We gave her some Dramamine to get on the plane, and she gets a little… feisty. If we could have the ginger ale, that would be great. Thanks,” Derek croaked, swiftly pulling his hand away to pull out his wallet from his back pocket. He handed the woman a five-dollar bill with an apologetic smile.

Rosalie looked at him, flabbergasted.

Derek stared right back at her, one brow raised in challenge.

“Do you want to get kicked off this plane?!” He hissed.

Stiles poked his head up again, whistling loudly. “Not even there yet, and you’re already playing the jealous fiancée. Damn, Rose. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

Lydia yanked him back down into his seat as the flight attendant stiffly appeared with Rosalie’s ginger ale and a bottle of water for Lydia. Rose didn’t look at her as she accepted the plastic cup. Instead, she stared at her tanned legs. The stewardess’ high heels clicked as she stomped back up towards the front of the cabin.

In the clear, Rosalie brought the cup to her dry lips to take a much-needed drink. Lydia reached one hand through the gap between Derek and Rosalie’s seats, grabbing Rose’s elbow before she could let the liquid into her mouth.

“Don’t drink that!” Lydia exclaimed hastily.

Rose put the drink down on Derek’s open tray table and turned to peek through the gap. She could see a fraction of Lydia’s face. From what she could see, Lydia looked irritated.

“She probably spit in it, Rosalie.”

Rose scoffed at the suggestion. “What? She was the one who was hitting on a taken man! What am I supposed to do?”

Derek shoved a half-drank bottle of Aquafina from his carry-on into her lap. “Just shut up and drink this.”

She removed her face from the gap to look at Derek apologetically. “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t react, just kept on glaring at the tray table.

Rosalie changed defense tactics, smiling at him with all teeth bared like a guilty child. “I’m sorry. I love you, Der Bear.”

Just as predicted, his green eyes shot to her blue ones. He sighed and rolled his eyes. “You better. I forgive you.”

Success. Rosalie’s lips curled upwards in satisfaction.

Derek held up a finger in front of her face. “On one condition. You never call me Der Bear again.”

His comment had Rosalie cackling loudly, drawing more unwanted attention to herself for the second time on the flight.

______________________________________________________________

Tags:

@empath-bunny

@ityagirljay

@wolfarrowepz

#derek hale #derek hale x oc #teen wolf #derek hale fluff #derek hale fic #derek hale x reader

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windlion · 3 years

Text

I’m going to blame this on the Discord - but some of it, some of it’s just Author Three’s own doing. Mind the knives.

The OTHER way that Liu Sang has a brother:

Liu Sang was not an only child. He'd known that since he was four years old, and his stepmother had returned from the doctor beaming. Later they'd been even happier to report a boy, and Liu Sang had adjusted to the idea of being an older brother. He would have a didi. He had been nearly as excited as the parents when his brother was born.

It took a few years for him to understand what was really going on. Things that had been his were repurposed. Space that had been his was taken. Time and attention came grudgingly, as if stolen straight from the mouth of his younger brother. His didi was just as confused as he was, and Liu Sang hoped he never had the same horrible realization: he'd not gained a little brother; he'd been systematically replaced.

Liu Sang wasn't an only child, and he wasn't a wanted one, either. He'd known that well before the back of the truck and the tears that wouldn't stop until he'd run dry. When he tracked down his father years later, he wasn't expecting a warm welcome home. He'd been disposed of, rendered obsolete, sold on as secondhand goods, and garbage never went back to where it had been thrown out from.

He didn't give a warning. He just waited for an opportunity to catch his father alone. When his stepmother and her siblings left for some social event, he let himself in. The lock wasn't exactly a challenge any more. He walked through the downstairs, deliberately making noise as he went.

The layout of the house had changed; over there was where the living room used to be. There, the side window that he escaped out of into the narrow alley between the houses. It had been updated: windows bigger, brighter, the decoration now modern and bland. It reeked of middle class keeping-up-with-the-neighbors. He didn't know if it was better or worse that nothing lined up with his memories. Not a single sign of smoke damage remained.

It didn't take long for the man to come out from his office, heartbeat raising. Liu Sang kept his distance while he waited, lingering by the single cabinet of art on display. He appraised the art out of habit: only one piece looked like a good quality reproduction, and several others were just offensively tacky. Worthless.

Liu Fu took in the presence of an intruder, long hair and hoodie, and barked, "Who are you? What are you doing in here?"

Liu Sang put the vase down and turned. He'd seen the pictures, he knew what Liu Fu looked like now. It shouldn't have been a shock. What hit him harder was that the voice was the same. He could still hear the father he remembered underneath the years. Liu Sang's breath caught, and he forced himself to stay calm, tracing the edge of the dusty shelf with slightly shaky fingers.

"Do you remember? I used to live here." Liu Sang flicked his hand to indicate the modern open layout, "Before you remodelled."

Liu Fu was taken aback, already fast heart rate rising. "A-Sang?"

Liu Sang tipped his head in as much of a bow as he was willing to make. "Hello, father."

Liu Fu's heart skipped again, then he gestured hard towards the back of the house. Away from the windows, and where his wife or son may come home. Liu Sang could have told him if anyone was coming, but the kitchen suited him fine anyways. He didn't have as many memories tied to there. (Tied. Ha.)

Liu Fu took down a cup and poured himself tea, movements sharp and purposeful. He made no move to offer anything to Liu Sang. He sat down at the head of the table, one hand curled knuckle-white around the porcelain, even though the steam meant it must be close to burning hot. Liu Sang waited for him to collect himself, to speak, morbidly curious. What did he have to say for himself, after all this time?

What he started with should have been predictable. Liu Fu stared at him grimly, "If you think that you can show up here to blackmail me. . ."

Liu Sang cut him off, sharp, "I don't want your money."

That made Liu Fu's heart skip in a way that was familiar to him now. Fear. Liu Sang held the eyes of the man who could have been his father and went on, "I want to know about my mother."

Automatically, Liu Fu waved dismissively, "I don't know anything."

"You know more than I do." Liu Sang prompted, "Her name?"

"Wang Ming."

Liu Sang pulled out his notebook and pen, shoved it across the table. "Write it. Where from?"

Liu Fu complied, flipping the notebook shut and pushing it back with his fingertips like it was distasteful. "I don't know, somewhere west. She travelled a lot--part of the job. She was a sales representative. She liked Xuancheng. Said that her hometown was tiny and too old-fashioned for her, and Beijing was too noisy and big."

Comparing Beijing to the rest of China, that didn't really narrow it down much. Liu Fu could see his frustration, and barked a laugh, "I told you. It was almost twenty years ago. I don't remember a lot of details."

Liu Sang wanted to reply, it was seventeen, but if his father couldn't remember how old he was, then that wasn't going to make much of an impression anyways. "What about physical records? Paperwork, photos, anything?"

Liu Fu rested his elbows on the table, leaning forward. "Nothing. She didn't leave anything behind."

"Liar."

Liu Fu scoffed, "There's nothing left now."

Not lying. Damn. If there had been any clues they were likely thrown away years ago. Like he had been. (Or burned, a corner of his mind whispered, also like him.) That made too much sense. Liu Sang tried to prompt again, "What else? Nothing about her stood out?"

"I don't remember anything else."

Almost relieved, Liu Sang pounced, "Lying."

Liu Fu snorted derisively, "And how would you know, anyways?"

Liu Sang unclenched his jaw enough to respond, tilting his head in his father's direction. "Your heart rate increased." He narrowed his eyes, listening to that beat jump and skitter. "There's a flutter on the right atrial valve that becomes more pronounced under stress. You should take care to not overdo it."

Liu Fu's heart jumped again, then steadied as he seemed to reach some sort of decision. "You do have her eyes. She was a bitch when she was pissed."

Liu Sang didn't trust the look on his face as he relaxed, the way he went still and easy like the worst bullies did before delivering a blow they knew would hurt. When they wanted to watch it hit, watch you bleed. Liu Sang was already out of arm's reach, but he kept the table between them, hands clenching at his side preemptively.

Liu Fu spoke slowly, carefully. "I had good reason to think she cheated, though I didn't really put it together until after she was gone. She never let me go to the doctors appointments with her. Told me she wanted the child to be a surprise, however it was intended."

The way Liu Fu stared at him then, he made it clear that had he known what was coming, he wouldn't have chosen it. Dimly, Liu Sang remembered how attentive his father had been during his stepmother's pregnancy. How he had taken her to appointments. Ultrasounds. Been there for the birth. That was why.

Liu Fu's heart rate was still fast but damnably steady as he went on, "I thought then she was just being sensitive about how big she was getting. Now I think she damn well knew what she was doing."

Liu Sang could feel his own pulse in his palms with how hard he was clenching his fists. It made it difficult to track the steady rhythm of his father's, unwavering. "What do you mean?"

"I think you were the runt." Liu Fu rose to his feet, not breaking his gaze. "Wang Ming travelled light. She never wanted anything unnecessary, and never wanted second best."

Liu Sang couldn't speak.

Liu Fu took one, then another step closer, confident that he was delivering the finishing blow. "She took what she wanted, and she left me you." He sneered down at Liu Sang, hot breath against his face. "When you weren't even mine."

When Liu Fu shoved his shoulders, Liu Sang rocked unsteadily backwards. Too off balance to react more than to raise his hands in self-defense. Instead of hitting him, Liu Fu opened the back door behind him, and held it wide, his voice gone cold and heavy with the weight of finality. "Get out, and don't you dare come back."

This time, Liu Sang was expecting the rough shove that followed, and ducked out the door so that Liu Fu's hands only brushed air. Liu Sang pulled himself away, not daring to turn his back, and bit out without thinking, "Don't worry, you're dead to me."

He dropped his voice low, something vicious rising in him as a parting shot. "What should I burn for your grave?"

Liu Sang caught the way Liu Fu's eyes flicked desperately to the house around him. His own gorge rose at the sense-memory of heat-gasoline filling his nose-the way the crackling pervaded everything around him. Before it even hit skin. Something perverse made him ask, "Do you think it would take better this time?"

Liu Sang watched the man stumble back, that stressed heart fluttering hard. The slam of the door rang in his ears, and he almost couldn't hear his own bitter laughter as he left.

He didn't look back.

(When he found out the house burned not even weeks later, he laughed almost hysterically. It probably sounded unhinged, but if ever there was kharma waiting to be served, that was it. Who knew if someone helped it along. He didn't care.)

(Wang Can was told to clean up some loose ends that might start to fray. Wang Can was good. Thorough. Didn't leave anything to chance. And though the mission parameters were unusual, well, wasn't like it was hard. He wore the clothes he was given. He was deliberately sloppy and let the neighbors see when he came back for the evidence. He looked straight back at them as he blew the ash off the audio recorder. One might have fainted. He didn't know why, maybe it was the terrible taste in fashion. Whatever. Orders were orders.

The Wang clan knew what they were doing: directing the future.)

#sometimes I write #daomu biji #TLTR #Liu Sang #and bonus #Wang Can #twins!#TWINS #sometimes twins murder for each other and don't even know it #(that was ALL AUTHOR THREE'S FAULT thank you)#and I'm fighting the formatting so bear with me if it's ugly

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fenrys-moonbeam-lochan · 3 years

Text

A little fear shared among friends

Summary: Lorcan is a father of five. Rowan is scared of having children.

Ao3

Part of my ToG Comfortember 2020

tw: Rowan has a mild panic attack. I’m not sure it can be called that but I decided to put it here just in case.

XXX

When Rowan chugged down his third drink of the night, he even had Lorcan giving him worried looks.

"Whitethorn," said his former commander, "You alright over there?"

"I'm drinking," he grumbled at Lorcan

"Leave him alone Lochan," said Fenrys from beside Rowan "He's been pissy all day. I think he had a fight with Aelin,"

"Huh," said Lorcan, eyeing Rowan as he filled his cup again, "Maybe you should go home,"

Rowan glared at him from across the table.

"I can hold more than this, you know,"

"Oh trust me, I know," said Lorcan, still on his first drink, "But usually not this fast and you don't want to go back to the Queen drunk if you did have a fight,"

Rowan slammed down his cup.

"You know," he told Lorcan, "Sometimes I miss the times when you were a brooding asshole that destroyed himself and let others destroy themselves through drinking and wallowing,"

"Well," answered Lorcan, voice filled with sarcasm, "I am so very sorry that my emotional growth is a hindrance to your pity drinking. Truly, Your Majesty, I apologize from the bottom of my cold dead heart,"

Fenrys burst into laughter while Rowan glared at Lorcan. A lesser male would have been cowed. As it was, Lorcan stared right back as he took a long sip from his cup of ale. A cup, that Rowan noticed, was still half full.

"I would like to know," said Fenrys, once he got his laughter under control, "Why aren't you getting drunk? I at least have the excuse of having to leave for Doranelle early in the morning. What's yours?"

Lorcan smiled, "I don't want to go back to my rooms drunk. Elide and the children are here with me,"

Rowan flinched as the older male mentioned children. Fenrys did not seem to notice as he exclaimed about not knowing the other Lochans and Salvaterres were there.

"I'll have to see them before going to sleep," said Fenrys, "I had no idea you brought them with you this time,"

While Lorcan was obviously nodding along to Fenrys, Rowan could also feel his eyes on him. Unlike Fenrys, he had most likely noticed Rowan's movement from where he was sitting. He could only hope Lorcan would leave it alone.

"Well," said Fenrys, as he finished his cup, "I should go now. The travelling party wants to leave as early as possible and I don't want to be tired in the morning,"

After a quick goodbye, Fenrys left and their drinking party of three turned into two.

"So," said Lorcan, "Children, huh?"

Rowan finched again. He couldn't help it.

"What is it about the mention of children that's making you react like that?" asked Lorcan, looking over him quizzically, "If Elide's word is to be believed, you two were merely waiting to have children. You both still want them, don't you?"

"Yes," said Rowan, barely above a whisper.

"What's the problem then?"

Unbidden, the memory of the dark vision came to him. His children and his mate being swept away from him. The darkness swallowing them whole. Not being able to save them, just watching them disappear. They had been so beautiful and he could imagine it happening in reality. One wrong move, one wrong decision and a precious life could-

Leave.

Rowan

Be gone.

Rowan

"Rowan!"

He shook himself out of his reverie to find that Lorcan had moved beside him, his hand hovering just over Rowan's shoulder.

"Are you back with me?" asked Lorcan, looking at him critically

Rowan nodded jerkily.

After another moment, Lorcan gently placed his hand on Rowan's shoulder. Rowan stiffened at first but hen relaxed at the contact, allowing the other male to ground him.

"Rowan?" asked Lorcan, "What in Hel just happened?"

Rowan sighed, "It's complicated,"

How was he supposed to explain it to Lorcan? to anyone?

However, then another set of images flitted through Rowan's mind. Lorcan holding his son Zirrek for the first time, crying in a way Rowan had never seen before. Lorcan holding his daughter Salva a year later, just as enchanted. Lorcan absolutely terrified as his children grew, thinking he would do something wrong. Lorcan coming to him, saying that he was thinking of bringing up adoption to Elide. Specifically, the adoption of three abused demi-fae siblings between the ages of nine and thirteen who would later take the name Salvaterre. Lorcan wondering over and over again, if he was doing right by his children, biological and adopted.

Lorcan just a few months ago during the holidays, three years after the adoption, surrounded by all his children and smiling the brightest smile he was capable of.

If anyone was going to understand his fears it would be Lorcan.

"I'm- well," he tried, "I'm-"

He cut himself off with a shuddering breath but Lorcan only watched him, wearing a patient expression quite like the one Rowan had worn when the older male had gone on a panicked tangent a week before Zirrek's birth. It was odd to be on the receiving end of it.

After a few moments, Rowan tried again.

"I'm- I guess," he said, "I guess I'm afraid,"

"Understandable," murmured Lorcan

Rowan sighed. Lorcan kept watching, hand still in place.

"Do you remember those dark visions we saw?"

Lorcan stiffened and then visibly forced himself to relax.

"Yes," he said roughly

"I've never told anyone," said Rowan, "Not even Aelin,"

Lorcan brow furrowed, "Rowan are you sure-"

"I saw children,"

"Oh," Lorcan said softly, "I see,"

"I saw our children, four of them. They were standing beside their pregnant mother. They were beautiful, Lorcan, so beautiful. I reached for them and they were taken away from me into darkness and dust,"

"Rowan-" whispered Lorcan, voice filled with the anguish Rowan felt

"And I know- I know it was only a vision. But I already lost a family once, Lorcan, and every time Aelin brings it up, I flashback to that. And it's so ridiculous, absolutely stupid that I can't get over it. And I know I'm hurting Aelin because of it but-

Rowan was running out of breath as he spoke, his throat closing around his words.

"Whoa, whoa," said Lorcan, shaking him a little, "Rowan, stop,"

Rowan shut his mouth with a click.

Lorcan was now holding him by both shoulders.

"Come on, Whitethorn, breath for me,"

Rowan took a few shuddering breaths but then forced himself to stop and match Lorcan instead. It took a few minutes, but eventually, Rowan came back to his normal pattern of breathing.

"Rowan. First of all, it's not stupid or ridiculous," said Lorcan, sliding his hands down so he was holding Rowan's wrists, "On the contrary, it's perfectly understandable,"

"Right," sniffed Rowan, trying to get himself under control.

"I don't have to tell you what you need to do now,"

"No," groaned Rowan, "I have to talk to Aelin,"

"Yes,"

Rowan let out a chuckle, sounding a little hysterical to his own ears and making Lorcan look at him nervously.

"I can't believe I just did all that in front of you," he told Lorcan

Lorcan laughed, relieved, "It's alright. Remember me before Zirrek was born?"

"I remember," said Rowan, grinning at the memory, "Both Vaughan and I practically had to hold you down from pacing,"

"Yes," said Lorcan, "And look at me and my children now,"

Rowan smiled as he thought of Lorcan and Elide's children. The oldest, Mara Salvaterre, was sixteen now and quite proficient in taking care of their gardens. They seemed to grow and blossom under her touch as if she was breathing life into them herself. The second child, Shyla Salvaterre, whose magic was the reason Lorcan had discovered them was fourteen and already a great warrior. The middle one, Amin Salavaterre, was now twelve and fluent in eight different languages, all taught to him by his father. Zirrek and Salva Lorcan were only six and five so it was hard to tell their direction in life. However, they had their mothers' wit and kindness and their fathers' strength and stubbornness. All the children were quite adored by the court, and while Lorcan liked to credit Eiide with them, everyone knew Lorcan gave them as much as his wife did.

"Your children are wonderful," said Rowan.

"That they are," said Lorcan, a soft smile on his face, "And I'm still afraid but it passes and I look at them and everything washes away,"

"Hmm," said Rowan, "Maybe talking to Aelin will help,"

Lorcan nodded and then chuckled.

"If only we could have Aedion's confidence,"

"Right," Rowan said with a small laugh, "It would be much easier,"

Two years ago, Aedion and Lysandra's first child had been born and now they were expecting their second one. Both times, Aedion had thrown himself into preparation with gusto, reading from books, learning from healers and talking non-stop about how excited he was. Of course, he had had the normal fatherly nerves that came with becoming guardian to a precious little life but even those had been normal and fleeting. Absolutely nothing like Lorcan and Rowan's panic.

"You should talk to him too," suggested Lorcan.

"Yes. That's probably a good idea," he said and then shook his head a bit as it started to fog, "I think my drinks are hitting me a bit,"

Lorcan smirked.

"I would expect that much," he said, "I will walk back with you,"

His tone left no room for argument and Rowan found himself nodding. They silently walked back to the royal suites. Lorcan kept a hand on his back to steady him for which Rowan was grateful. Once they got to the right door, Lorcan took his hand away and nodded towards the door.

"Don't forget to talk to her,"

Lorcan turned to leave but before he could, Rowan caught him by his sleeve.

"Lorcan?" he said

Lorcan turned and looked at him questioningly.

"Yes?"

Rowan smiled, "I don't miss you being a brooding asshole,"

Lorcan smiled back, moving his hand so their fingers were curled around each other.

"I know, Rowan,"

"Good night," said Rowan, "Give them my love,"

Lorcan nodded and squeezed Rowan's fingers gently before walking away. Rowan turned and took a deep breath, opening the door to find his wife sitting on the settee and reading a book.

"Fireheart," he murmured, "I think I need to talk to you,"

Aelin gave him a gentle smile, one he did not think he deserved but cherished anyway.

"Then let's talk, Buzzard," she said, patting the space beside her.

Smiling, Rowan gently closed the door behind him.

A few suites over, Lorcan slipped inside his rooms quietly to find his children sitting around the fireplace, being read to by their eldest sister. He kissed each of their foreheads and told them that uncle Rowan loved them. Mara wrinkled her nose a bit, but the rest of them smiled sleepily and nodded. Lorcan then went into his room where Elide was already under the overs and asleep. He quickly changed and slipped in beside her.

Even in bed, he kept an ear to his children as they finished their story and were ushered to bed by the eldest girls. He didn't stop listening until all their breathes evened out and they were asleep in their beds, warm and safe from the world.

Lorcan sincerely hoped that one day Rowan would be able to know this kind of love and peace too, the kind that came from watching your children grow and thrive

#throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #lorcan salvaterre #rowan whitethorn #fenrys moonbeam

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