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mirkwoodshewolf · 9 months

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IATCOD Chap. 23; Guardian of the White city

*Author's note*

Jesus am I on a roll with this story or what? Already I think this is a far better improvement than my last LOTR fic cause I've got TOO deep into this story to just let it be abandoned. Now I was thinking whether or not to wait till I got the next chapter done before I posted this but I decided to just go ahead and post this chapter and I hope that sometime this week I'll finish up the next chapter and let you all enjoy a double update in one week (that is if I can do it but who knows).

Not much for warnings except this is mostly battle sequences, there's talk of male hierarchy (apologizes if this chapter ends up a bit too political but this is what Hela has dealt with, especially in Gondor and MOSTLY with Denethor II).

Also IMAGE BELOW IS NOT MINE!!!! CREDIT GOES TO THE CREATOR I'M JUST USING IT FOR VISUAL PURPOSES ONLY.

NEXT CHAPTER

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@queen-paladin

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@gay-and-ready-to-cry

@thats-s0-ravenn

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After the beacons were successfully lit, I had ran towards the armory in search of my old Gondorian armor that I had forged myself when I was Captain of the tower guard. Now knowing Denethor I would’ve thought he’d had this destroyed or thrown out so that there was no more trace of a Celestial ever being here.

But surprisingly I had found it not in the chest I had kept it in, but in a special display near the King’s of old armories and weapons. The armor shined and my sword still sharp. As I finished fastening the last bit of my armor, I saw Haldir leaning against the doorway of our room.

“You wish to come and fight at my side.” I told him.

“I know you wish to protect me but I cannot take being locked up in this kingdom another second.”

“And I wasn’t going to let you. But I have one very specific request you must follow.” I walked up to him and reached up to his face. “When you see any Nazgul, do not engage with them. You will turn and ride as hard as you can.”

“I promise.” He said after a brief period of silence.

“Thank you, now come, our steed awaits near the gates.” I held the back of Haldir’s neck and used Makkari’s speed to get us there in just a few seconds where a dark brown horse with a white patch up along its nose stood. He let out a startled neigh before he huffed and shook his head. “So sorry Anárion. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Anárion?” questioned Haldir.

“Yes, this here was Boromir’s horse. Ever since his rider’s death, I sent a message to him to return home and await my arrival.” I reached out and touched Anárion’s nose and he let out a few huffs. “He’ll be our steed in battle. Now come, we don’t have much time.” We both got on top of Anárion and I ordered the guards to open the gate for us and soon I urged Anárion forward and with great speed, he rode us towards Osgiliath.

When we got within the city’s range, Haldir told me.

“The city’s overrun. Orc archers are up along the walls ahead of us.”

“Easy pickings.” My right wrist glowed and using Thena’s magic, I summoned a shield that stood just a few inches away from Anárion’s charging form and that was able to cover over both mine and Haldir’s heads like a roof. Orcs arrows bounced off the shield as we charged in and Haldir used his bow and arrow to fire from behind and kill the six archers that had been shooting at us.

As we rode deeper into the city, I took Aeglos off from around my chest and stuck his blade into the ground before dragging it across the graveled path. Thanks to some of Thena’s enhanced magic, his blade didn’t break as he was able to brig up some of the gravel and dust from the city floor to provide a good cover for some of the Gondorian soldiers or the Ithilien Rangers to use their weapons and strike the orcs down.

Anárion rode in a full gallop as I took back Aeglos and let out a battle cry holding him outward and impaled an orc from the back, raised its limped body in the air before it’s fly right off of Aeglos’s blade. Haldir used his bow and arrows to bring down any orc that tried to come at us.

I could sense a good number of lives being lost further into the city but the outer rim still needed aid.

“Take the reins!” I cried to Haldir.

“What?!”

“Just take the reins! Keep aiding the men along the outer perimeter of the city!” I quickly adjusted myself so that I was facing Haldir and his arms came around me to take the reins. “You elves aren’t the only ones with fancy moves.” I said smirking at him. He looked at me perplexed as I perked my brow at him and did a flip move that I learned from Cain.

I picked up my legs and I soon flipped over both Haldir and Anárion. When I had leapt, I was first curled into a ball but when I felt my legs coming towards the sky, I straightened myself out until I finally landed on my feet before some orcs that stood before me. Using Aeglos and my own strength, I took each of them down. Slicing off their limbs or twisting their necks with my bare hands.

I turned briefly to Haldir and gave him a firm nod and he gave me a nod back. He urged Anárion onward and I soon saw them both disappear into the battle. My admiration soon turned to hatred as I growled lowly and blocked an orc that had raised its mace at me and I used Aeglos’ staff to block it. I kicked the orc’s stomach to send him flying towards one of the buildings as three more tried to come at me.

Both Cain’s teachings and Thena’s powers were making my blood boil and adrenaline pumping. I crossed blades with two orcs while another one tried to come at me from the side. I pulled up a Celestial shield to block his attack then used that shield to disarm him allowing me to kick him and see his body skip like a rock on water.

I pushed back the two orcs I had crossed blades with and easily relieved them of their heads before I raced further into the city. Any orc that I came into contact with, received the full wrath of the Celestial of death and I gathered up as many men who still had a fighting chance to come aid with the town square of the city.

I leapt up along the old buildings and took down the orcs that were using the towers as high ground for their archers. I slammed one orc down onto the roof while I punched another orc right in the throat disabling him before I stuck Aeglos’ blade right through his skull.

But all too soon I heard them. Their piercing screams that felt like nails slowly scrapping across the floor. From the dark clouds I saw them riding on fellbeasts. The Nazgul had come.

I watched in horror as their fellbeasts swooped down like a dark shadow and began scooping up any Gondorian man they could find. I also could hear the men calling for a retreat and saw them all starting to ride back to Minas Tirith. My heart broke as I knew it to be true.

Osgiliath was lost.

Swallowing my fear, I took to the skies using Ikaris’ gemstone and flew off towards one of the nine who had about four guards in the claws of his fellbeast. As the demonic creature released them to fall to their deaths, I intervened and caught each of the men and carefully set them down.

“Make for Minas Tirith! GO!!” the men nodded and quickly took off running. I soon heard the screech and roar of both a Nazgul and a fellbeast heading towards me. I flew out of the way but both chased after me.

“Give up and surrender yourself Celestial of Death!” the Nazgul spoke to me.

“Over my dead body.” The fellbeast soon shot its neck forward and tried to capture me in its horrid jaws but I fired a couple of star bolts at it to deter it away from me. It let out a cry of pain as I took off flying away from it. Suddenly out of nowhere a second Nazgul came at me and nearly had me in his grasp but with some quick reflexes I was able to avoid his fell grip.

The two Nazgul soon took chase after me. So long as they targeted me and not the men, I can give them some time to reach the city. Oh I hope Haldir made good on his promise and is fleeing with the men now that the Raiths are here.

“Alright you guys, think your fellbeasts can beat the speed of the Starlights?” I then took off flying high above the clouds and the Nazgul continued to resume chase.

Their fellbeasts surrounded me and tried with both jaw and claws to catch me, but I was too fast for them. I fired more star bolts at them as well as their riders and I saw as they curled themselves inward at the power of my Starlight brother Ikaris.

Suddenly out of nowhere, the third Nazgul, and this one I did know by name. The second deadliest of the nine to ever be named, Khamûl The Easterling. His fellbeast roared in my face and I was suddenly struck with fear as these creatures (much like their masters) had a fell air about them that made anyone feel utter fear and despair. Khamûl then grabbed hold of my throat and I struggled in his grip as he hissed at me.

“They will all die. And you shall watch them.” The two Nazgul dove back down to attack the retreating Gondorian armies and Haldir while Khamûl still had me in his grasp. He pulled me up to him and my vision soon became hazy as I felt the affects of the Black breath come onto me.

I tried to resist and use my own powers to overpower the dark aura of the Black breath but Khamûl was not to be trifled with. Next to Angmar himself, he is the second most deadliest of the Nine. Both in life and in death he was a foul, foul man. However, unlike if I had been the Celestial I was back then I would’ve easily given in.

It took everything I had to muster the Starlight’s Blaze within me. Those men, Haldir, the people of Gondor. My body slowly flickered until my eyes glowed pure starlight and I said to him.

“You will not hurt any of these men! Khamûl the Damned!!!” I then felt a burst of light burst out of me and I heard Khamûl let out an agonizing scream as both he and his fellbeast recoiled from my Starlight blaze and took off flying.

As quick as the attack came, it was snuffed out and the affects of the Black breath had fully taken over me and I felt myself falling from the skies and my vision went dark.

*3rd Person POV*

While the men and Haldir made their retreat from Osgiliath and rode to Minas Tirith with all their might, they thought that thanks to the Lady Celestial they would be home free with no orcs or Nazgul chasing them. But their hope was soon snatched away as two of the Nazgul came swooping down and attacked them. Grabbing either men alone or men plus their horses before allowing them to fall from a great height to their deaths.

Haldir kept watch on the skies not seeing Hela in sight, his heart pounded fearing the worst when he noticed up ahead Gandalf and Pippin riding on Shadowfax charging head on to aid them. Suddenly from the clouds burst a powerful bright light and it aimed for the backs of the Nazgul. Haldir had seen that kind of light before and he knew exactly who it was that was making it. It was also at that moment, Haldir saw Gandalf used his own staff to aid the bright light that had shone down from the dark clouds.

With no way of flying back to Osgiliath, the Nazgul fled towards the mountains as Gandalf soon joined the men in leading them back to the city. But Haldir still caught no sight of Hela from the clouds, that was until he had seen her falling and unable to stop herself.

“HYAH!!” Haldir urged Anárion with great haste, Boromir’s steed ran with what almost felt like the speed of Makkari. But even with all his speed, Hela seemed to be getting closer and closer to the ground with no chance of slowing down. Something had to be wrong, Haldir could feel it in his gut. “HELA WAKE UP!!” he cried but that still didn’t seem to rouse her awake.

Finally Hela landed with a loud BOOM. And Haldir was just barely a few short feet from reaching her. Anárion reared and neighed fearfully at not only the sound but seeing that Hela had not moved ever since her fall. Haldir quickly got off his saddle and raced towards Hela.

“Hela! Hela!” Haldir knelt down beside her and pressed his head over her heart and could hear it beating. He breathed a sigh of relief but it was gone for a moment when he could see no physical injury but her face had looked even paler than it normally was.

Very carefully, he picked her up in his arms and placed her on top of the saddle before mounting just behind her. He allowed Hela to lean against his chest and he urged Anárion onward back towards the city.

Back in the city, Gandalf and the soldiers of Gondor and the Ithilien Rangers immediately began to pile the city gates after just barely escaping with their lives after a long night’s battle.

“Mithrandir!” Gandalf turned around and saw Faramir riding his horse towards them. “They broke through our defenses. They’ve taken the bridge and the west bank. Battalions of Orcs are crossing the river.”

“It is as the Lord Denethor predicted. Long has he foreseen this doom.” Spoke one of the soldiers as he unmounted his horse.

“Foreseen and done nothing!” snapped Gandalf. When Gandalf had urged Shadowfax to fully turn around, Faramir caught sight of Pippin riding in front of his mentor and friend and was taken back at the sight of yet another halfling in his sight. “Faramir?”

Pippin taking notice of Faramir’s intense gaze upon him, slightly turned his head away almost trying to make himself invisible when Gandalf realized why Faramir was looking at him the way he was.

“This is not the first halfling to have crossed your path.” Faramir shook his head and replied with a verbal no. At that statement, Pippin’s eyes grew wide as he stared up at Faramir and asked him.

“You’ve seen Frodo and Sam?” Faramir nodded.

“Where? When?” asked Gandalf urgently.

“In Ithilien. Not two days ago.” Pippin looked up at Gandalf in pure joy while Gandalf’s heart raced in relief. Oh such a blessed news to know that the two hobbits were still alive and had not been gone from this city in barely three days. But Gandalf’s relief was hindered as Faramir told him, “Gandalf, they’re taking the road to the Morgul Vale.”

“And then the pass of Cirith Ungol.” Gandalf finished, his eyes widened in fear. Faramir nodded again.

“What does that mean? What’s wrong?” asked Pippin. But Gandalf didn’t hear the young hobbit’s question as he urgently demanded to Faramir.

“Faramir, tell me everything. Tell me all you know.” But before Faramir could say a word, another voice broke through the crowd.

“Help! Help! Mithrandir help! It’s Hela!” the three of them turned and soon riding up was Haldir with Hela. The three of them turned to Haldir and their eyes widened in shock (mostly Pippin’s and Gandalf’s). “She has yet to awaken. And she fell straight down to the earth like a fallen star. Physically I cannot see any injuries but I’m still worried.” Haldir explained.

“Set her down.” Gandalf told Haldir. Haldir got off of Anárion and carefully took Hela into his arms and set her down on the floor. Gandalf and Pippin got off of Shadowfax and Pippin quickly went up to Hela and touched her face.

“She feels cold. Gandalf what’s happened to her?”

“The Nazgul.” Faramir answered. Pippin looked up at him. “I’ve seen this happen many times since they’ve arrived to haunt this very city. Some have claimed that this is a technique they use to petrify their victims.”

“Yes. It is a technique known as the Black breath.”

“Is she going to die?” asked Pippin fearfully. Haldir turned to the halfling offended he’d even suggest such a thing.

“To some they have.” Answered Faramir.

“But to Hela it surely won’t. But she has taken a great amount to render her unconscious.” Gandalf gently pushed Pippin aside and pressed his hand to Hela’s forehead and began to softly chant a healing spell to awaken her.

As the men began to take notice of a woman wearing Gondorian armor on the ground, they started to crowd but Faramir ordered them to give her some air and let Gandalf do his job. Suddenly Hela let out a gasp as her chest began heaving.

“Steady Hela, steady my dear girl.”

*My POV*

One moment I was in nothing but complete darkness and the next I suddenly felt myself shooting upwards awake and I tried to fight whoever was in front of me but when I caught sight of both Gandalf and Haldir, and Gandalf’s voice slowly becoming clearer from my fuzzy hearing.

“Hela, steady my dear girl.”

“Gandalf?”

“Yes, I’m here. And you’re lucky to be here too. If you weren’t who you are and had had that much Black breath affected you, you’d be beyond any help.” I then turned to Haldir and was relieved to see him alive and in one peace. I embraced him to which I felt him tense up slightly but he instantly wrapped his arms around me.

“I was so worried they’d—”

“You and Mithrandir saved all of us. How are you though? You were the one who fell from the sky at great speed and fell straight into the earth.”

“Did I? I—don’t recall that.” Haldir looked at me to see if I was jesting but one look in my eye and he knew I wasn’t. Truly I don’t remember anything after I had unleashed the Starlight’s blaze on Khamûl. Suddenly I felt another body collide into mine and I looked down to see that it was Pippin.

“Oh Pip.” I said lovingly as I embraced him.

“You were as cold as death, no pun intended with you being the—but I had feared you were…..”

“Shhhh. It’s alright Pip. I’ll be okay. Takes more than some Nazgul to break me.”

“As I live and breathe, Gandalf spoke the truth.” Pippin and I looked up and at first I thought I was seeing double. The man before almost resembled Boromir to a T but he was younger, had a slight lighter shade of hair color and wore the uniform of the Ithilien Rangers. He looked at me in pure awe.

“Hela, this is Faramir. He said he had seen Frodo and Sam.” My heart leaped in rejoice as I stood up with Haldir’s help and asked him.

“You have? Where? When?”

“As I told Gandalf and your halfling friend just moments ago. Not two days ago in Ithilien. But they have taken the road to the Morgul Vale.”

“What?!” I asked fearfully. “But that leads to—”

“Cirith Ungol. Yes. Faramir was about to tell us everything he knew before your ranger friend came to us with you unconscious.” Gandalf told me. Knowing to keep Haldir’s true identity a secret I turned back to Faramir and asked him.

“Yes. Please tell us all you know of what happened when you came across our friends.” Faramir nodded then ordered any and all guards to take the wounded to be healed not in the House of Healing, but in the secondary medical Halls. I found it strange Faramir would not have his men go to the main healing house but that would have to be a question for another time.

Faramir soon guided us away back towards the royal stables to put Shadowfax, Anárion and Faramir’s horse away. All the while, Faramir explained to us everything that had happened when he came across Frodo and Sam. To me, it comes as no surprise that Gollum finally tracked down his ‘precious’ and by taking them to Cirith Ungol, I knew he was leading them there just to reclaim his precious back.

For a creature has made that her nest for centuries and only one time did I encounter her and that was when Druig, Makkari and I first went into Mordor when we were younglings. I’ll never forget the first time we saw her, we barely escaped with our lives and Druig still had the scar of her bite to this day on his chest. All to save me.

As our horses were now untacked and could now rest in the comfort of the stable, a messenger soon came forth and he said.

“Lord Faramir, your father requests to see you and the Lady Celestial right away.”

“Tell my father we will be there shortly.” Faramir told the messenger.

“He’s insisting now. Especially you my lady Celestial.” Oh no, this could only mean one thing.

“Tell him we’re on our way. But tell him that he may unleash his wrath upon me first before he even speaks a word to his son.”

“Hela,” Pippin started.

“Pip, you keep practicing your initiation. I’ll even have Gandalf or Rahl quiz you.” I looked down at him, giving him a firm look to not say another word on the manner. “Come Faramir, let us see what your father wishes to speak to us about.” As I took a step, I felt myself suddenly grow faint as I suddenly staggered forward like a newborn foul but both Haldir and Faramir caught my arms.

“Perhaps I should accompany you Hela.” Haldir tried to offer but I told him.

“Lord Denethor has required only our presence. I dare not allow you to be taken under his wrath and scrutiny. Please return to our room Rahl and take some rest.” I looked at him with soft pleading eyes and as stubborn as this elf is, he abide my request.

“As you wish.” I mouthed a thank you to him as Faramir took off and helped guide me to the throne room.

“You sure you do not wish to seek a healer my lady? The Black breath of the Nazgul is no wound to tread lightly.”

“I appreciate your concern young lord. Unlike most of your men who have in some cases been petrified to death, the Black breath has never gone that far with me. I may have some fainting spells now and then and quite possible some nightmares at night but that is all the damage they can do to me with their accursed breath.”

“If you are sure, but if you do need any assistance, I will do what I can to help aid you.” I gave him a loving thank you as he continued to guide me to the throne room.

When I felt like I was able to walk on my own, Faramir reluctantly allowed me to take a few steps until he could see for himself that I was now fine. And it was at that moment we had arrived at the doors of the throne room. We entered inside and I held Faramir back so that I could go first.

He looked at me with the same reluctance but I assured him with a firm nod as I held my head up high and slowly walked towards Denethor who glared down at me from his throne with Perses and Deimos at his side.

As I stopped before his throne, I put my hands behind my back and stood at attention while Denethor stood up from his throne, a menacing look in his eye. He came down from the throne, stood face to face with me before winding his hand back and gave me a hard backhand across the face. His ring giving me a small cut as my breathing harshened and I soon turned back to him.

“Ever you have wanted to prove your worth more to the World of Men. Celestials prancing about thinking they were superior to us. Claiming to teach us, when all you do is look down upon us like we’re scum. Like we can’t fight our own battles! Treating us no better than children. Or an undisciplined pet.”

“I did what I judged to be right Denethor.”

“What you judged to be right!?” he sneered lowly.

“The Celestial has ruined the plans I had given the men at Osgiliath. Now because of her, the city is lost!” Deimos proclaimed.

“Those men all through the night were greatly outnumbered and outmatched. There was no victory to which there would be any survivors had I not intervened.” I said trying to keep my cool. “Denethor, your men were lead into a massacre. How is there victory in a fight such as that?”

“Osgiliath was our only line of defense, now it is lost because of you.” Denethor hissed in my face, his hot breath dancing across my skin as he shook with rage. He turned to go back to his throne as Deimos said.

“If I may have permission my lord, I could teach this Celestial what happens when a soldier goes out of line.” I saw the gleam of a silver blade shine at his hip as his red eyes grew crazed as he stared down at me with a lustful desire for blood.

“Deimos. Out of the two of you the Lady Hela could easily take you down with just the flick of her wrist.” Perses spoke up. Deimos growled as he turned his attention to Perses.

“And what of you old man? I seem to recall you screaming for mercy as I had you weaponless.”

“What must be taken to order is a punishment that fits the crime. Exile would do no good nor would death even stop the Celestial of Death. Imprisonment is useless for there’s no cell strong enough to keep her.” Perses said.

“Perhaps there is a punishment best fitted for someone of your—stature.” Denethor said with a malicious grin. “Perses, take her to the East wing and have her fitted for her new duties.” Perses bowed his head then he came down before me and gestured for me to follow him.

Of course Denethor would put me in this position believing it would humiliate me. Having served as councilor to the King of Gondor, then fought alongside the armies as one of the tower guards, eventually moving up the ranks as Captain. Some had even called me the Guardian of the White city, but now at Denethor’s command, I have been sentenced to the ranks of scullery maid.

Now wearing mere peasant rags and given a bucket and rag just to clean the very floors of this entire palace. I dipped my rag into the bucket of water and then proceeded to scrub the floors as hard as I could in order to give it that ‘mirror-like quality’ as per Lord Denethor’s orders.

I wiped the sweat from my brow having already been at this for hours and I let out a deep, heavy sigh.

“This is my thanks to the city?” I scoffed shaking my head. “To now be no better than a servant and for what? Saving the lives of his own soldiers.”

“It was well noble of you my lady.” I looked up to see Faramir standing at the end of the hall before coming over to me. “We would have lost double the amount of men had you not come to aid us.” I dropped my rag and wiped my hands against the apron of my raggedy gown and went to curtsy to him. “Please, none of that my lady Celestial.” I stood naturally as he stood just a few inches from me. “My apologies on his behalf. If it were up to me, you’d be rewarded for your valiant deed, not submitted to such a degree of hard labor.”

“Well your father’s not the first Man to try and degrade me for being a female warrior. And he won’t be the last I’m afraid.”

“I hope as payment, you should at least deserve this back.” He soon handed me my Gondorian armor that I was forced to surrender before being given these rags. I smiled and took it from his arms and said as I stroked the White tree engraved on the chest plate.

“Truthfully I would’ve thought your father would’ve had this either destroyed or thrown out. I was surprised to see it in such a display and in good condition too.”

“That’s because a young man of the city took great honor in caring for it. A very foolish one. Who wasted many hours slaying dragons instead of attending to his studies.”

“You did that?” I said astounded.

“Yes. When Gandalf told me the stories of the Celestial of Death serving and protecting our city, I knew such an armor had to be taken great care of till she returned.” He then bowed his head to me in respect.

“And I thank you Faramir. If only you had been there when I first made this armor. Most of the men couldn’t believe their eyes, said they’d roll in their graves at the day a woman would be Captain of the Tower guard. And boy did they.” The two of us softly laughed before he told me.

“People doubted me too. Boromir was always the soldier.” His tone grew solemn as he continued, “They were so alike he and my father. Proud, stubborn even, but strong.” I set my armor down to the floor and placed my hand to his shoulder. The two of us stared into each other’s eyes and I told him.

“Both you and your brother share the same fighting spirit. But I also see in your eyes strength of a different kind. And I know your brother saw it. He spoke so highly of you during our time together.” Faramir’s eyes held a sense of sorrow for the loss of his big brother.

“How did it truly happen?” he asked me. “I had heard one side from your other hobbit friends that passed through here. Was it truly because of the Ring he died?”

“The Ring tempted your brother and took him yes, but it was not because of the Ring he died. He kept his honor as Captain of the Guard, a true noble warrior and Man of Gondor by aiding me, Pippin and another hobbit friend of ours from an army of Uruk-hai. Saving my life from an Uruk’s blade with two arrows already in his body. It wasn’t until the third arrow that he was unable to fight anymore. Your brother died a hero’s death.” I watched as Faramir swallowed hardly as he took in the true story of his brother’s death.

“Now I know at least he did not die with darkness in his heart. And that he died the way he would’ve wanted to go. Fighting to his last breath.” I smiled solemnly at him and gave him a soft nod before embracing him.

Almost immediately Faramir embraced me back and I could feel the wetness from his tears as they slowly slid down and landed onto my shirt. Neither of us spoke a word until I knew his moment of grieving had passed.

After it passed, he offered me a spot to witness Pippin being sworn in as the new guard of the Citadel. I looked down at the floor and said to him.

“I think your father would greatly see my head on a platter if I were to disobey his orders.”

“You were charged to follow the orders of the Steward and his sons, were you not? By order of Perses.” The way he spoke his name held some sort of venom to it. So not even Faramir trusts him.

“Aye, that was his command.”

“Then as the youngest son of the current Steward, I order you to stand at my side and watch your friend be sworn in. I have a feeling he’ll need you there for him.” Since it was to be announced that Pippin was going to be sworn in at this very hour, Pippin had been sitting in a shroud of anxiety and insecurity. He had begged me to write down the oath for him because he had already forgotten what he was supposed to say (of course I obeyed his wish).

“I take it you have met him.”

“Yes. A noble heart your friend has. Even said the same thing you had told me about my strength, as well as my father hoping to see that one day.” I could already see it in his eyes. Heck even Boromir has told me during our time at Rivendell of how much his father verbally discriminated Faramir for his own victories in favor of his (Boromir’s) own.

Truthfully I hope Pippin’s right. In my experience with Denethor, they weren’t always in positive light for he held a deep-rooted jealousy and hatred for both Aragorn and myself respectfully during our time here.

“First let me return this armor to my room as well as check on my friend who helped me to aid you.” He nodded and picked my armor back up before handing it to me and I walked off back towards my room where Haldir was mending the wound on his arm. “You got hurt?” I said racing over to him as I dropped my armor. He took my hands into his as he assured me.

“Thankfully it was just a graze unlike the wound I had received at Helm’s Deep.” Haldir looked me up and down and he said with venom in his tone. “He didn’t.”

“Afraid so. Been demoted all the way down to scullery maid. Thankfully Faramir is allowing me to see Pippin be sworn in. After all I am to serve not only the Steward but his sons as well, as per Perses’ orders.”

“A loop-hole. Does Denethor know of that slipped detail?”

“One way to find out. You sure you’ll be okay up here on your own for a while?”

“I’ve had my fixture of battle and air for the day. Go and support your friend.” I nodded.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise.”

“I know you will, don’t fret over me.”

“Old habits.” I softly smiled at him and he gave me an encouraging nod to go on my way. I shut the door and sighed deeply before racing off towards the throne room to meet with Faramir so that we could enter together.

“If my father should question why you left your post, I’ll take the blame.”

“No Faramir, I cannot let—”

“I won’t allow you to be scorned by my father anymore throughout your time here Lady Hela.”

“You are willing to take the rod for me even though we barely know each other?” he nodded. “And there is no chance I am going to convince you otherwise, is there?”

“If you wish to debate we can, but I get the feeling you’d rather be there for your friend rather than trade words with the Captain of the guard.” He’s clever I’ll give him that. Druig was the same way when it came trying to out-best any one of us in a debate, especially with Ikaris (boy he loved to toy with him a lot. Same with Hermes).

“You’re very kind Faramir.”

“Only doing what is right my lady.”

“Promise to call me Hela and no longer add any formalities and I’ll willingly keep my mouth shut around your father.” He softly chuckled before we both entered the throne room together side by side.

There we saw Pippin standing just a few feet away from the foot of the Steward’s black throne, some additional court members scattered throughout the room, Perses (as always) at Denethor’s side.

“I thought I had sent you away to have the corridor floors cleaned?” Denethor snapped at me.

“My Lord I ordered her to be my personal handmaid for the time being. As is command, she is to also obey my orders as well.” Denethor sneered then Perses spoke out.

“Yes, so it was as command. But the young woman must refrain from speaking until the initiation has been complete.” I bowed my head in acceptance to Perses (even though I loathed to do it) then he turned his attention back down to Pippin. “Peregrin Took, son of Paladin Took. You stand before the council and the Lordship of Gondor to pledge your loyalty to this city. Please recite the oath of the tower guard.”

Pippin knelt down with his left knee forward and he soon recited the oath that I had taught him.

“Here do I swear fealty and service to Gondor. In peace or war, in living or dying. F….from…..” C’mon Pip, you know this. I could hear him faintly muttering the oath under his breath as he continued, “from this hour henceforth until my Lord release me—or death take me.”

“And I shall not forget it.” Denethor said. He stood up from his throne and stood before Pippin as he held out his ringed finger for Pippin to kiss as he continued, “nor fail to reward that which is given.” Internally I scoffed at Denethor’s demeanor towards Pippin. I saw as Pippin finally sealed his fate by kissing Denethor’s ring before the Steward cupped his chin to force him to look up at him as he continued, “Fealty with love, valor with honor. Disloyalty with vengeance.”

Denethor walked over towards a large table where various foods had been spread out and I saw his eyes come towards Faramir and I as he said the ‘disloyalty with vengeance’ phrase. Pippin rose up and turned towards me and I gave him a soft but proud nod. Denethor snapped his fingers and like a dog I was forced to come over to him.

“Prepare for me the best arrangement of food.”

“Yes my lord.” I spoke lowly as I began reaching out for various food items for him to consume, he then spoke to his son.

“I do not think we should lightly abandon the outer defenses, defenses that your brother long held intact.”

“What would you have me do?” asked Faramir and immediately his father responded.

“I will not yield the river in Pelennor unfought. Osgiliath must be retaken.” Is he crazy? Those men were lucky to get out of there alive just barely this morning and now he’s going to send them back there?!

“My lord Osgiliath is overrun.” Faramir tried to reason with his father but it fell on deaf ears.

“Much must be risked in war.” Why is it when he said that, it sounded like Deimos was talking to him now? “Is there a captain here who still has the courage to do his lord’s will?” yes me! If you want Osgiliath back, send me! No need to waste anymore lives that had already been lost to you.

Then after a long period of silence, Faramir would say something that would break my heart for the rest of my days.

“You wish now that our places had been exchanged. That I had died and Boromir had lived.” As Denethor picked up a chalice of wine he spoke in a dazed whisper but it held so much truth behind it.

“Yes. I wish that.” My heart broke for Faramir. All he ever wanted was his father’s approval and love and now to be told this just before you send him off on a suicide mission?! I turned to Faramir and could already see the tears forming in his eyes but he kept a strong face as he said to his Lord.

“Since you were robbed of Boromir…I will do what I can in his stead.” He bowed his head to Denethor and proceeded out of the throne room. Pippin and I watched in shock and heartbreak at Faramir’s decision to die for a father that openly admitted to wish that he were dead and his eldest son were still alive. “If I should return, think better of me father.” Faramir said brokenly before walking off again, hoping for one last stretch of love from his father.

But all Denethor said was this in a sneer.

“That will depend on the manner of your return.” Once Faramir was gone, I slammed his tray down, scattering the food and even denting the table itself.

“HE IS YOUR SON!!” I shouted. “Your only living son no less! How can you treat him this way!?”

“Faramir knows his worth to this city and his family’s name.”

“So you will send him and those men to die for your honor! Have them all die in your name whilst you sit on your arse and engorge yourself in food and wine!”

“They will die doing what’s right for Gondor.” Denethor rose up from his seat as he and I stood almost chest to chest staring each other down.

“Boromir would be ashamed to be your son if he heard what you have told his little brother! He was more of a father than you’ll ever be!”

“And your Celestial kin would be greatly disappointed for you not willing to free them. With all your power and nearly an Age since you became the Last Celestial of Middle Earth. What do you think they would tell you?” I clenched my fists tightly as they shook with rage and I glared at him.

But right now I couldn’t bear to sit behind and watch as Faramir and those brave men throw their lives away.

“Your father and your father’s father roll in their graves. You, Denethor II are an insect amongst men who governed before you.” I knew that would get to him. His own body shook with rage as I summoned my Celestial armor back over the rags I was forced to wear before retreating to find Faramir but also to contact an old friend for additional help.

*3rd Person POV*

There was silence in the city as the people gathered to watch their soldiers march back to Osgiliath in full Gondorian armor. But there was no hope in their eyes, nor cheers of praise or good luck, for they all knew that these soldiers would not be coming back alive.

Some began to throw down flowers along the graveled pathway as their horses slowly walked down the city towards the gates. Some of the soldiers took the flowers from people’s hands as their last gift they would be given. Suddenly a voice broke through the crowd.

“Faramir! Faramir!” Faramir, who was leading his men up front, turned to see Gandalf walking through the crowd until he came up and walked beside his horse. “Your father’s will has turned to madness! Do not throw away your life so rashly.”

“Where does my allegiance lie if not here? This is the city of the Men of Númenor. I will gladly give my life to defend her beauty, her memory, her wisdom.” As Faramir spoke, Gandalf could already tell that Faramir had lost all hope in ever obtaining what he longed for most.

The love and approval of his father. And without it, there was just no sense in trying anymore. So he’ll do the one thing he can do, die trying.

“Your father loves you, Faramir.” Gandalf assured him as Faramir rode on. “He will remember it before the end.” Suddenly riding pass through the crowds riding on Boromir’s horse was Hela, with her cloak on and the hood covering her head. She rode forward and came before Faramir to stop him in his tracks. Faramir’s horse nickered alarmed but stopped which caused the army to stop.

“Hela, this is not your fight. By order of the Steward’s son, I ask you to step aside.”

“You think you could really order me around, little brother?” she removed the hood to reveal her eyes glowing of pure white light. Faramir’s soulless eyes began to sparkle with a brief sense of light.

“Boromir.” Hela’s voice then spoke with both her voice as well as Boromir’s mixed together.

“Hela told me what father has said to you. Please little brother, I know we have been through much together in our lives and you have followed me everywhere but I ask you to cease now. Do not follow me into death.”

“If not me then who will?” asked Faramir brokenly. “Your reclaim over Osgiliath has fallen because of me. To not fight for your honor would shame me.”

“Forget your honor then!” Boromir’s voice rose. “I made my choice when I had fallen down my path. You—you have always been smarter than my little brother. For once in your life do not be stupid as I have been!”

“I am sorry brother. But I must do what I can do defend this city.” Faramir then guided his horse around Hela and Boromir’s horse and the men did as their commander did as they finally came to the gates.

“Faramir.” Boromir whimpered as Hela’s eyes returned to normal and she quickly rode back to the palace, her face buried into Boromir’s horse’s mane.

Once the armies of Gondor were out of the city, they formed two long lines and rode onward to the fallen city they had barely escaped from earlier that same day. The banners of the white tree waving proudly in the breeze as they rode onward.

Soon the orcs began to emerge from the ruins of the city to see what their next move was. Even they knew that these men were riding towards their deaths.

Back inside the throne room, Denethor was eating his meal with Pippin at his side, there was no one else but the two of them and they stood there in silence until Denethor asked Pippin.

“Can you sing master hobbit?” Pippin turned to the Steward and said.

“Well….yes. At least, well enough for my own people. But we have no songs for great halls and—evil times.”

“And why should your songs be unfit for my halls?” Denethor said. His chin stained with juices from the grapes he had just eaten. “Come sing me a song.” He then demanded as he kept eating his feast. Pippin slowly turned his gaze away from the selfish, gluttonous Steward and sung a song that was held in his heart.

Whilst out there on the fields of Pelennor, Faramir lead his army in full charge knowing full well that none of them, not even him would make it out alive. The orcs of Osgiliath all gathered around the edge of the city and their archers readied their arrows to fire at the oncoming Calvary.

*Pippin*

Home is behind the world ahead

And there are many paths to tread

Through shadow to the edge of night

Until the stars are all alight.

Mist and shadow

Cloud and shade

All shall fade

All shall….

Fade

Arrows whistled and the sound of the thunderous hooves were quickly silenced from the fields.

As Pippin finished his song, he turned to Denethor to see if there was even a hint of any remorse or grief at knowing what he had done. But Denethor kept that blank stare as he kept stuffing his face with food. Pippin lowered his head in anguish as he had never felt this level of heart break in his life.

Meanwhile, up in Hela and Haldir’s room; the two were both on the floor up against the bed as Hela wept into Haldir’s lap. Tears streamed down her face as she could hear every last one of those soldier’s heartbeats stop and felt their souls leave to the great beyond. Clenching her heart in pain as she tried to suppress the pain but it was all too great for her.

Haldir, could only hold his Celestial in his arms. Hoping that just being there for her would ease her pain, but he knew deep down there wasn’t anything else he could do for her. This was a burden that she had to deal with thousands of times, and thousands of times she’ll have to bear it then.

Suddenly she stood up and like a risen corpse, she soullessly walked out of the room to head for the tombs of the Kinds and Stewards of Gondor to seek peace and council with the dead.

*Haldir’s POV*

No matter how hard she tries, no matter how strong she becomes, there will always come pain whenever a soul passes away from Middle Earth, for Hela will always feel it. And for a ‘Lord of the city’ to send those soldiers to be massacred and not care what happens to them? This is what confuses me about mortal Men.

Why must their pride and stubbornness govern their correct judgement in battle and war? Now all those lives, including his only remaining son are now dead. Who now will defend this city if not Hela? Mithrandir? Or even Denethor himself?

I retook Hela’s cloak and put it back around me and headed out. I will allow Hela to have some alone time, right now there was a cause of action that needed to be taken. What Hela and I did when we first came here, find out just who the three council members of Denethor are.

As I walked back towards the underground library, I passed by a room where Perses’ voice spoke up.

“So how many does this make now Nergal?” huh? I quickly raced back and pressed my back against the wall right where the door was cracked open.

“This makes 998 souls in total.” Answered Nergal.

“Grah! Why are we wasting our time with this? We should make our move now!” I heard an unfamiliar voice speak. Could this be the third one that neither Hela nor I have come across yet?

“What you severely lack is patience Deimos. If we leave in a hurry, Hela and the wizard will think that we’re up to no good.” Answered Perses.

“We have been wasting over 40 years here! If we are to attack, the time is now before the riders of Rohan come!” The voice, Deimos replied harshly.

“The bond between Gondor and Rohan is severely damaged. Thanks to us, Gondor was unable to aid Rohan in their time of need at Helm’s Deep. Theoden wouldn’t dare answer the call to a kingdom who didn’t come to help him.” I heard Nergal say. “One thing I know is the poison that severs old alliances, mortal pride. And Denethor clearly showed that the loss of his son was greater than that of Rohan’s safety, much less his own city’s.”

Mortal pride? The way Nergal spoke about mortality sounded similar to the way my kin spoke of the world of Men. Their mortality, their pride, stubbornness, their brief lives.

“Plus we must continue to be cautious. Hela has been poking around trying to figure out just who we are. After all she has been Gondor’s aiding Celestial since the days of Elendil.”

“With the massacre I convinced Denethor to agree on, she’ll be out of commission for a while.” I heard what almost sounded like a lustful moan from behind the door from Deimos “I can still taste the blood in the air.” Deimos said.

“Enough of your demonic pleasures Deimos. We must proceed on with phase 2 of our plan whilst the orcs move into the city. And this time, the Lady Hela will play a big part in our plan.” Perses told him.

“And just how will you convince her? As we have already said, she’s suspicious of us and will not come willingly.” Nergal said.

“Which is why we won’t go for her directly. Deimos, answer this riddle for me; A Mighty warrior goes to war. Unlike those who are of brute strength, this warrior is cunning. He makes more armies surrender than any other soldier before him. How does he do it?” I thought of the riddle in my head but never before have I heard this one.

“The heart. He goes for their heart.” Oh no! Mithrandir and the halfling! I must warn them. I raced out of the corridor and searched for them throughout the palace but I couldn’t find either of them anywhere! As I came around another corridor I noticed two guards up ahead and saw as they turned to me.

I moved Hela’s hood to cover more of my face and slowly turned back but saw three more guards coming towards me blocking my way out. With no other choice, I walked a ways out and told the guards in front of me.

“Is there a problem gentlemen?”

“You are the Ranger that accompanied the Lady Celestial to Gondor, are you not?” one of the guards in front of me said.

“If I am? There’s no law against Rangers from entering the city is there?”

“There is if he doesn’t show his face. A man who hides under his cloak like a shadow is a coward, if not an enemy spy.” One of the bigger guards that stood behind me said.

“I assure you I am no spy to the enemy. If anything the spies you seek are within your own council.” I told them. I evaluated just how many of them surrounded me, their weapons on hand, as well as how they would try to overwhelm me by trying to come at me all at once (as per the usual move men usually do when facing an enemy).

“You’re coming with us, outsider.” Said the tallest guard out of all of them.

“And if I refuse?” I questioned as I slowly reached for my dagger.

“Then we take you by force.” He replied as they all surrounded me from every side, closing any chance of a quick escape. I eyed all five of them before they all came at me.

I swiftly took out my dagger and ducked as I sliced at one of their legs, right behind their calves where there was no protection before coming back up and managed to block another guard’s dagger with mine. Our blades crossed before I threw him back and that’s when I felt a rope come around my neck pulling me back against an armored chest.

I struggled and tried to free myself but my vision was quickly going black. In one final attempt, I headbutted the guard who had me by the throat which caused him to drop the rope and release me. Quickly taking a deep gasp of air I grabbed my dagger and tried to throw it at the man who had nearly choked me to death, but something felt off.

My arm was frozen in place. Suddenly my hand twisted oddly and I was forced to drop my dagger. As I gripped onto my wrist trying to stop it from bending back any further, my arm suddenly shot to the left then to the right before I felt myself crumbling down towards the ground.

This sensation was unlike anything I’ve ever felt. It was like my own body was beyond my control.

‘You really thought we’d go for the wizard or the Halfling?’ a voice said in my head.

“Deimos.” I whispered painfully.

‘There’s no one closer to Hela than you, Haldir of Lórien.’ How did he know my true name? I soon felt my hands being forced to grab Hela’s hood and no matter how hard I tried to fight, his will was stronger than mine as I revealed my true identity to the guards.

“Bind him!” Deimos’s voice soon echoed through the room and the guards soon came at me with ropes and shackles. “Wait!” the guards soon stopped. “Gag him as well.” Deimos spoke in amusement. Soon my mouth was forced open by their grubby hands as a rag was forced around my mouth and I was dragged out of the palace like a dog. ‘Now what say we take a little rest for a while?’

Suddenly my senses were hazy as my will to fight, or even move vanished and I felt myself go limp against the guards.

*3rd Person POV*

What was unaware to anyone, including Deimos, was that a small creature had witnessed the whole thing from just behind one of the columns. That small creature was none other than Pippin.

“Oh no, Mr. Haldir. I’ve got to find Hela!” he quickly ran off to find Hela and tell her what had happened to Haldir.

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pregnant-piggy · 3 years

Text

Jo’s play

March sisters x reader

words: 1.4k

warnings: mention of a fake death

A/N: i would literally to anything to join one of Jo’s plays

The curtains around the homemade stage were closed, letting very little light in on the side behind the curtains. On the other side sat a dozen or so young girls, silently waiting for the promised spectacle to begin.

On your side however, it was not quiet as the very last preparations were being made and people were put in their place. The loud thuds of Jo’s boots were almost deafening your ears as she was walking up and down on the ‘stage’.

‘Amy, go back! They can see you like this! Beth, please don’t forget your lines again. Meg, do not fret about your dress, you look fine. y/n, remember to make your death realistic, I won’t be accepting your lousy attempts from last time!’

You rolled your eyes and crept back in the shadows, waiting for your first appearance. Amy was sitting next to you, silently mocking Jo and making you giggle. You loved Jo dearly, but in moments like these she could go a tad crazy.

Jo and Beth were hiding opposite of you in the shadows and Meg was the only one on the stage when the curtains opened. As soon as the lights hit her, she turned from Meg into Hester, the lonely queen who had lost her husband in the war and had no children to follow him up. Hester sang a melancholy song about her loss and her problem and received a great applause when she finished.

Then a sweet, little servant walked on stage, telling Hester that a young boy had arrived at the gates. The servant left again, and Hester started pondering about the possibilities this brought her.

In the background you crept on the stage, Hester’s nephew, Fabian. You were wearing a beard around your chin and a long men's coat that fell over your knees.

‘If this youngling has no family, I could take him on on my own!’ Hester thought out loud. ‘I could raise him to be the mightiest king this land has ever seen!’

Hester left the stage and you walked forward, exclaiming that this strange boy could never become the king, for that was your duty already, and you would do anything to stop him.

The curtains closed on you and a quick palace was built before act two opened with Jo as the strange boy standing in front of Hester.

‘Tell me, my boy!’ Hester said, taking the boy’s hand. ‘What is your name?’

‘My name is Marvin, Your Majesty! I am but a mere poor child from your capital city, robbed from his family and now seeking a place to stay for the night.’

‘Do not worry more, young child! I will give you a place to live,’ Hester spoke and she called the servant to her. ‘Take this boy to his chambers, I will call on him later this night.’

The servant took Marvin away from the stage and the queen was left, content with herself and her plans. At that moment, you walked back on stage, with on your hand a lovely young lady, named Katherine, whom you had intended to marry once you were king. The young lady was played by Amy, who adored her part for she could dress up like a ‘real, proper madame’.

‘Oh, Earl Fabian!’ Hester said as she noticed you and your lady. ‘Just the right person! I need to ask you for a favour, my dear nephew!’

Queen Hester asked you to take on the lessons for Marvin, as he had to learn the rules of kingship. After a moment of thought you agreed and walked off, just as the curtains closed again.

Act three opened in your chambers, where you spoke with your lady about your plan to make her your queen, telling her that you would teach Marvin all the wrong ways. Katherine was delighted and promised to help you wherever she could, before the young boy walked on stage, for his lessons.

‘Come here, my boy,’ you said and noticed the glitter in Jo’s eyes at the words. ‘I will teach you all you need to know about being a king, for I know what the Queen’s plans are for you.’

Then you and Jo performed a song as Fabian and Marvin, the first teaching the second all the things you oughtn’t do as king as though they were the right things.

‘And that, my child, is how you become a great king!’

The next act was a love scene between Katherine and Marvin. The stage had been rebuilt to a rose garden, with real and paper roses, leaves made of papers of Jo’s old books, and Amy’s drawings of flowers. On a bench, that was actually just two chairs with a sheet over them, Katherine sat and Marvin dropped to his knee, confessing he had fallen madly in love with Katherine and could not live without her love.

Katherine, being so charmed by Marvin, told him of the plan Fabian has for him, and decided that she would marry the man who turned to be king. Marvin was satisfied by that answer and vowed he would do anything to stop Fabian and protect Katherine from his danger.

The dramatic scene ended in laughter when Marvin, who meant to sit down on the bench, sat right in between the two chairs and fell through the sheet on the ground. You and Meg quickly closed the curtains and helped Jo get up.

‘Jo, are you alright?’ you asked worried, but Jo jumped right back up and shook the accident off.

‘Never been better!’ she laughed. ‘Come on, we’ve got a show to put on!’

You built the stage to the inside of the palace again, where Marvin was telling the queen about Fabian’s plans.

‘I knew that man was no good!’ Hester cried out, throwing her arms up in frustration. ‘He has wanted to take my husband’s place on the throne ever since I married. I never should have kept him here!’

Then Queen Hester ordered her servant to fetch Fabian, so she could have a word with him. Beth returned with you on the stage and quickly disappeared in a corner.

‘How can I be of aid, Your Majesty?’ you asked, bowing for the queen.

‘Do not put up those airs with me, nephew! I know of your plans!’ Hester said, staring down on you. ‘’Fess up!’

‘I have nothing to confess, My Queen,’ you lied. ‘I don’t know what you are talking about, I am afraid.’

Hester stepped aside and revealed Katherine holding Marvin’s hand tightly. You stood up and stepped closer to the woman you had once loved.

‘I knew I should have never trusted you! You wicked,—’

Marvin cut you off by pulling his sword on you and stepping in front of Katherine. You took your own sword and so a battle between the two men began. Circling around the stage, you hit and blocked and Marvin blocked and lashed out, while the women on the side gasped and screamed at the right times.

For a minute you fought with Marvin, until he stabbed you in your chest. Jo stuck her sword under your arm and you held it there as you fell to the ground. In much agony you shouted until you fell dead silent and as you lay on the floor, Marvin bent over you, retrieving his sword from your chest.

‘Three hoorays for our new king!’ Hester exclaimed and Marvin kissed Katherine happily on her cheek.

The girls in the audience started to applaud and cheer as you and the sisters gathered on the stage and bowed. In the back of the room Mrs. March and Hannah stood, clapping their hands with proud faces.

‘Refreshments are downstairs, thank you very much!’ Meg announced and the curtains closed again.

Darkness filled the stage again and for a second it was silent.

‘Jo, that was incredible! You all did so good! Meg, your voice is wondrous! Oh, Amy you looked so pretty in the light! Beth, you were amazing! y/n, your death was so dramatic!’

It was a mix of little screams of delight and praises all around, everyone hugged the other. You and Jo were jumping with excitement and you flew around her neck, making her fall over, taking you and the curtains along in her fall.

Meg stood over you and shook her head, but she had a smile on her face. ‘Are you two boys done messing around?’

- - - - - - -

taglist: @natashxromanovfreads @tommy-braccoli

#march sisters x reader #little women #little women imagine #little women x reader #jo march x reader #amy march x reader #meg march x reader #beth march x reader #jo march imagine #amy march imagine #beth march imagine #meg march imagine #jo march #amy march #beth march #meg march #march sisters

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cloudycrystalkpop · 3 years

Text

SMOKY | Heaven Above

Blind! Prince! Mingi x [unstated skin deformity] fem! Reader

words: 3k+

warnings: childhood trauma, smut

au: crown royal au | moodboard

series masterlist: SMOKY

You lay in bed, just a bit away from the edge of the king sized mattress. Tonight was your wedding night, dressed in a silk slip that left little of your figure to the imagination, you looked to the other end of the bed, where your husband lay.

The boy was curled in a ball, his large frame made incredibly small and just a breath away from falling off the edge of his bed.

His body twitched and shook every now and again, you could only assume it was tears.

You couldn't blame him, in the madness of the last month youd cried yourself a sea of saltwater, watching as your future slipped away like sand from your fingers.

"... Mingi?" you spoke as softly as you could to the other end of the dark bed. The man jumped at the sound of his name.

"... Y-yes?" his voice shook in his throat, laced with fear. This caused you to frown.

"I know youre upset but, would you like to talk about it?" you offered gently. He stiffened at your words.

After a long minute of silence, and no movement from the other end of the bed, you assumed that perhaps he had fallen asleep, turning back to gaze up at the canopy.

"... Im sorry." the voice was so quiet you thought you might have imagined it. "Im sorry for everything. Im sorry youre stuck with someone... Someone like me."

"Someone... Like you? Marrying a stranger isnt something i resent you for." you tried to comfort him.

"No-well, yes but... You didnt have a choice..."

"Neither did you." you turned to face him, watching the outline of his back.

"... Mother says I should have run away and died in the woods." you felt shock fall on your chest at his confession. "Mother says im an embarrassment, that i shouldnt have been born. All ill ever be is a burden... And im sorry... Sorry that it falls to you know, and when im nothing more than a stranger... "

You felt a piece of your heart break at his words, the sniffles in his voice and the shaking of his shoulders now falling into place.

"Mingi, you are my husband. Which, means we are meant to be a team. I... Understand all of this is frightening, but, will you please give me a chance? So we can be... Not strangers anymore?"

After a long pause, the man rolled over, now facing you. You saw the stains on his cheeks reflected in the moonlight peeking in from the silk curtains.

Upon instinct, you reached out to tuck the hair away from his eyes, but you hesitated.

"... May i touch you?" you asked.

Mingi nodded his head, nuzzling his cheek into the pillow.

He flinched only slightly as you brushed his hair away from his eyes. Watching as he blinked them open, the smoky, empty irises stared back at you, tears still hidden in the corners.

"Mingi, I think... We can prove your mother wrong. With practice, you wont be a burden on anyone," you placed a hand on his cheek, watching his eyes flutter closed at the contact.

"With time, i think you can be a good king." the boys body racked in sobs once more as you pulled him close.

You slept that night, with your husband wrapped up in your arms. Tomorrow, is your coronation. You are to be the crown princess, and the sleeping man in your arms, the prince.

Mingi disliked walking with a cane. it was loud and he too often found himself still tripping on his own two feet. at home he knew the halls by heart, navigating them even when tired like any other resident. but in this new strange place, he had to keep one hand pressed against the wallpaper, feeling his way to build his map of this castle. the castle that was now his new prison.

he had been assigned a guard as his guide, a charming young man who gently guided the prince, Mingi’s left hand resting on his shoulder, his right hands fingertips brushing the walls.

you trailed behind the pair, watching curiously. Mingi’s head rested bent, his chin almost touching his chest. his resting state seems to always involve making himself as small and unnoticeable as possible.

the guard’s playful voice chimed in, interrupting your studying of your husband.

“I must say, I really expected you to deny the request for me to join you today, Your Highness.” he smiled over his shoulder, clearly speaking to you.

“oh? and why is that?” you asked.

“well, you have that knight of yours~ he speaks so fondly of you, and I almost never see you two apart. I was almost frightened id make him jealous.” the man giggled.

“hmm, Seonghwa has been loyal to me since I was a teenager. I trust him very much as I'm sure you've seen.” you nod. “may I ask your name sir...?”

“Hongjoong!” he smiles over his shoulder, bowing his head.

“...are...we in the main hall?” a quiet voice speaks. Mingi’s hand fell from running along the wall, instead laying limp at his side.

“ah, yes! it would seem we have arrived!” Hongjoong chimed.

the coronation was, a frightening experience. you stood at the head of the hallway, almost envying Mingi for not having to look the countless royals in the eye. see the seething and loathing, and plots for your murder, just to take a crown you never even wanted to begin with.

you placed your hand on your husbands bent arm, and it was then you realized, he was shaking. it was customary that the now crown prince lead his princess out of the hall, but Mingi still had only half learned the layout of this castle. never mind the panic he was hiding under the circlet on his head.

“Mingi,” you spoke, not even a whisper. you felt his arm flex under your hand. “match my footsteps, and lets get out of here.” he let the smallest nod, and the two of you set off.

you held your head high, eyes forward, not even bothering to return the stares from the court. you would be queen, weather you liked it or not, and now was not the time to show weakness. now was the time to prove that you were unshakeable. your “unroyal appearance” be damned.

when you arrived back at your bedroom, Mingi asked if he could have a moment alone. the poor man was close to tears once more, arms wrapped around his body as he shrunk into a chair, curling in on himself once again.

a part of you wanted to go and pull the shaking man into your arms just as you had done the night before. cooing soft words into his hair. but, you didn't want to invade his space, so instead you ventured out, closing the door behind you.

“my Lady!” a new voice called from down the hallway. you turned to see a head of dirty blonde hair, as a court member walked up to you. you braced yourself, turning to face the man head on. “my Lady, I don't mean to intrude, but I wanted to introduce myself. I am Duke Kang Yeosang, of the west valley.” he kneeled before you, head bowed low.

you blinked in surprise. a duke? on his knees in an introduction?

“you needn't be so formal, Duke Kang. there is no guard here to pierce your breast for sneezing at the wrong time.”

the man let out a hearty laugh, raising to his feet.

“ah, I see you dread such social conventions as well. and please My Lady, just Yeosang.” he smiled. the man before you was incredibly handsome, his speaking voice a gentle but deep baritone. he then took your hand, placing a kiss to the back of it, bending in a low bow with his eyes closed as his lips lingered just a moment on your skin.

your heart beat echoed in your head as the warmth of his mouth on your bare skin. swallowing your blush down, you gently pulled your hand away from his touch. his eyes opened, staring up at you through his lashes.

“I am sorry my Lady, have I made you uncomfortable?” his brows furrowed in a frown, before the edge of a sword meets his neck.

“step away from the princess please.” a growl like voice calls from behind the Duke.

“Seonghwa! this man means no harm, leave him alone.” you glare to the man with the sword.

“if that is true perhaps you should answer his question Princess-”

“no. no, he did not make me uncomfortable. he simply took me by surprise.” you stated, staring down the man with the sword. he sighed, but sheathed his blade nonetheless.

“you should speak to your future Queen with more respect.” Yeosang stated.

“you shouldn't touch people without their consent.” countered Seonghwa.

a sigh fell from your lips. so this is a new dynamic you are going to have to deal with.

as the days bled into weeks, you found yourself within the company of the young Duke often, your guard dog never far behind. the pair could never get along, Seonghwa seeming to think every time Yeosang breathed, it was a threat to your safety.

you’ve spent countless hours in the library, Yeosang at your side, coaching you through politics, philosophies, and ideologies. his eyes sparked every time, he as well fit for the part of a Duke.

you’d be lying to say that the closeness with the young man didn't stir something within you. his curious eyes, his intelligent speech, the way he guided you.

more than just a flutter in your stomach, Yeosang’s long thin fingers dancing across the pages, the small dart of his tongue to his lips before speaking. this man sired feelings in you you had ignored since your girlhood.

days curled up in the library, hiding away from prying eyes, reading the strangest erotic poems you could find. most so ridiculous they made you snicker. but others... that was the same warmth you felt when Yeosang grabbed you by the wrist to keep you from knocking off your water goblet.

“my Lady, you must be careful! you could have stained your dress.” he placed your hand back in your lap.

“nonsense, water will dry. it leaves no stains anyway.” you huffed. Yeosang let out that hearty laugh once again.

Seonghwa complained about the Duke while escorting you back to your quarters. you simply laughed and rolled your eyes at his childishness.

“princess, please promise me you will call me if that... that mockingbird, ever lays his hands on you.” you laughed once more at his words.

‘mockingbird’ for his deep and ‘droning’ voice Seonghwa hated so much.

“you are not my father Seonghwa. you needn’t be so protective over such things.” you teased. “or are you perhaps, jealous?”

Seonghwa’s cheeks tinted pink as he looked down. “...you have not called on me for such... help, in a long time.” he admitted.

ah, that explains his borderline possessiveness.

“...Seonghwa, I am a married woman.” you stated.

“I know that! but you are not married to that Duke-” you cut him off with a sharp turn on your heel.

“enough.” Seonghwa fell silent at your stern tone. “watch your tongue, for you speak above your rank and I have little interest in hearing it.”

he clenched his jaw, but did not speak further.

“I have no further need for you tonight. you are dismissed.”

“as you wish, my princess.” he bowed low, but he never dropped his eye contact with you. Seonghwa begged you silently, begged for the affection you used to wrap yourself in. Seonghwa was a loyal knight, one who would carry out any request you had of him, be it sinful or murderous.

but you had little interest in making an adulteress out of yourself tonight.

you turned your back to the man, and entered your room.

it took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room, but once you had settled into the darkness, you could see the figure of your husband sitting on the bed, head in his hand.

“Mingi? are you alright?” you quickly rushed to his side of the bed, kneeling before him.

“y-yes, I'm alright, I'm sorry to frighten you.” he spoke softly, raising his head from his hands. you felt a twitch of pain in your chest at the puffiness around his eyes.

“have you been crying, my darling?” you asked, raising to wipe the dampness from his cheeks. his breath hitched, before he sniffled. grasping at your wrists, Mingi raises his head, empty eyes level with your own.

“...will you be honest with me?” he asks.

“of course, Mingi you are my Husband, I have nothing to hide from you-”

“stop. do not- please... please don’t say that until I've asked you my question.” his face is pulled in pain and sorrow, cracking your heart. you fall to your knees once again, placing your hands in his lap, and leading your head against one of his bent knees.

“what is your question, my prince?”

“is it true you have slept with the Duke?” his voice is small as tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

“no. I have never had any form of physical intimacy with Duke Kang. the man kissed the back of my hand when we first met, never have we done more.” your words were true, and you saw relief flood Mingi’s chest.

“...thank you... thank you thank you thank you...” he let out a hiccup just as you cupped his cheek.

“who told you such an awful rumor?” you questioned, raising to your feet.

“i... I overheard some of the guards speaking about it.” he admitted. “people forget... I am blind, not def.” you nearly jumped to ask who he had heard saying such things, but thought better of it for the moment.

“and people are fools for such a thing.” you lifted Mingi’s head gently, before placing yourself on his lap. “and they are bigger fools for gossiping about something with no evidence.” gently, you lay Mingi’s head to rest on your collar.

the man melted at your touch, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your chest.

“...you smell... like honey...” he mumbled, voice far away and almost intoxicated.

chuckling you petting his hair, “perhaps you are hungry, my darling prince.” Mingi let out a whine at your words. quickly pulling your hand away you raised his head again, thinking you had caused him pain from the sound.

his eyes were glazed over, cheeks pink, and breath panting in his chest. ah, not pain, pleasure.

“Mingi... have you ever slept with a woman before?” you purr. the man swallows hard.

“no. you think... any woman would want to crawl into bed with me.” he sighs. you tisk, grabbing a fist full of his hair and pulling his head back.

Mingi lets out a squeak of surprise, that quickly turns into a high pitched moan.

“you are the fool now, little prince. I understand you may have not had the privilege of seeing yourself in the mirror, but” you lean down so your lips graze the shell of his ear. “you are one of the most attractive men I have ever laid eyes on.” you feel Mingi shiver beneath you.

grabbing his jaw tightly, you twist his head, turning it away from you. “I do not care about your blindness Mingi, if I hear such negative self speech from you again, it will earn you a punishment.” he whines once more, before you begin peppering his open neck with kitten kisses.

“p-pl-please-” he whines, hands fisted in your dress, chest rattling with every breath he takes.

“please what? my darling prince~” you coo softly, hands now scratching through his hair.

“p-please... please... use me... I need you...” his voice cracks, barely speaking each word. you coo, cupping the mans cheeks.

“we have been married for almost a month, my prince, and yet we have yet to consecrate our marriage~” you tease, tracing your fingers down his throat.

Mingi may be blind, but it takes little time for him to map out your whole body.

his head thrown back against the pillows, neck on full display for you. one of his large hands with a bruising grip on your hip, the other’s fingers tangled with yours above his head. you coo softly to the man as he gasps in pleasure, your free hand bracing yourself on his chest.

you press your forehead to his, panting from the energy it takes to keep bouncing on him. you are thankful he never asked if you had experience in sex, for you worried he might be saddened at the truth.

yet even still, the mere... size of Mingi had your eyes rolling back in your head when you first sunk down on him.

you heard his voice hitch in his throat, hand pulling more on your hip.

“..I-i-ahh-” you could feel him pulse within you. shushing him, you leaned over to place more kisses over his throat.

“its alright, little prince, let it go. will you cum for me?” you cooed softly.

right at your command, Mingi came, spilling himself within you. his voice cried out your name, shoulders shaking as he squeezed your hand.

you softly cooed as you helped him ride out his orgasm, petting his hair and running your hands over his torso. his body finally stilled, and you felt him begin to go soft within you.

your thighs burned slightly as you lifted yourself off of his lap, feeling his cum drip and pool out of you. Mingi whined at the loss of warmth, hands pulled at your hips.

“I-i’m sorry, you didn't...” his face still burned pink, hair a mess on the pillows as he finally began to catch his breath.

“its alright Mingi, you can make it up to me another night.” you chuckled. He swallowed, but nodded.

after leaving to the attached bathroom to clean yourself up and change into your night clothes, you returned to the bed to find Mingi had managed to change the blanket the two of you had soiled. you smiled, noting not to underestimate the man in the future.

“can we... can we do that more?” Mingi mumbled as you crawled into bed beside him.

“of course~” you cooed, stroking his cheek. he sighed in contentment, mumbling to himself.

“what have I done to deserve you...” he wrapped his arms around your middle, pulling you against his body. “...I am no good for a husband... and probably worse choice for a king... but, for you..” he blinked his eyes open, somehow managing to stare at you. “for you... I'll be whatever you want me to be.”

“is that so? you’ll do anything I ask?” you cooed.

“yes. yes, I promise. you... you own me, mind, body, whatever you want from me... take it.” he begged, eyes hazy once more.

“lets not worry about such things now, little prince.” pulling the man against you, Mingi quickly fell asleep against your chest.

“you own me, mind body, whatever you want from me... take it.”

“oh sweet boy, you should be more careful with your words. you’ve already got me falling in love with you.”

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

Hello!! I’d also love to read the hobbit fic. I love everything you write!

Hello! I’m so so SO happy people are interested in my other work, even if it’s terribly tragic and angsty! Please read the tw for this work, since it does get pretty intense even with a happy ending.

For context: this is a snippet of an Tolkien AU I never wrote where the marauders and co are on an adventure and James has healing powers.

TW: temporary major character death, heavy angst, blood/ mild gore, fighting, grief, “enemies to lovers but I’m dying” trope, happy ending

The cold stone digging into Sirius’ cheek did little to shock him from his daze and trembled beneath him as heavy footsteps approached. The screech of metal on metal had been the harbinger of death for too many already. What was one more?

An iron-clad foot landed on his shoulder and rolled him onto his back—he groaned as the edges dug into muscle, leaving him breathless with pain. He was battered, bruised, soon to be broken. Make it quick, he prayed as the axe rose high. Remus, I’m sorry.

There was a flash of movement overhead and the beast stumbled; the swing went wide and slammed against the cliff’s edge as its head was wrenched backward. Long legs locked around its thick neck and an angular face, twisted in a snarl, swam into focus through Sirius’ hazy vision.

“Remus,” he managed, little more than a whisper. “Remus, no.”

Midnight blood trickled from the troll’s neck where a bowstring cut into it. “Go!” Remus shouted as he pulled back with all his might. “Run, you idiot!”

He heaved in a breath and tried to get to his feet, but pain radiated through his torso and he barely made it to his knees before the beast roared and snatched at Remus, who leaned sideways just a touch too far and rolled onto the hard ground. The troll ripped his bow off its neck and threw it to the ground, then lunged for him; Remus dodged, turned, and shoved its arm into the corner of the rock with a harsh crack. The axe tumbled over the side and vanished into the mist.

Sirius must have made some sort of noise as he struggled to get up—get up, broken ribs be damned—because Remus’ gaze snapped toward him.

It happened too fast for Sirius to even gasp. One moment, Remus was reaching to deflect the troll’s trunklike arm from coming down on his head; the next, his eyes flared wide with shock and he sucked in a shuddering breath. The beast twisted the jagged knife in his stomach and yanked it out.

Remus dropped like a broken marionette.

Sirius’ vision blurred again, and not from pain. Distantly, he registered drawing his sword, but the next thing he knew the troll was dead and his hands were covered in blood and Remus was going cold in his arms.

Remus’ mouth twisted with frantic pain. “Sirius.”

“I’ve got you, you’re alright.” His tongue was thick between his teeth and he could feel his whole body shaking while he pressed a hand down on the dark stain spreading across Remus’ torso. “Just hold on, you’re going to be fine.”

“Hurts,” Remus whimpered, grabbing the front of his shirt with clumsy fingers. “Hurts. I’m so sorry.”

“You saved my life.” Sirius’ voice wavered as tears filled his eyes. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Remus shook his head; his bloodstained lips were growing paler by the second. “I didn’t say it sooner. I’m sorry.”

A sob ripped from Sirius’ chest as he gathered him tighter, feeling his weak heartbeat under his palm as his fingers turned red. “Don’t you dare, not now. Not here. Say it when you’re healed, alright? Say when I can hold you properly.”

“Has to be now.” Remus took a few staccato breaths, then exhaled slowly. He reached up and cradled Sirius’ cheek with surprising gentleness. Sirius braced himself. “I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner. Sirius, I wanted forever with you, I’m so sorry.”

It was so, so much worse than Sirius had imagined. Tears traced down Remus’ forearm as he leaned into the touch and let the words spill over his lips. “I love you too, you beautiful, reckless archer.”

“Knight in—” Remus coughed again and jolted in his arms, sending a thin trickle of blood from the side of his mouth. “Knight in shining armor, huh?”

“That’s right,” Sirius sniffled. He brushed stray curls off Remus’ forehead and his tawny eyes slipped shut for a moment. Cold fear flooded Sirius’ veins. “Remus, love, keep your eyes open. Keep them on me.”

A small smile spread over his face despite his small shudders of pain. “How could I ever look away?”

“You’re not allowed to.” Sirius tightened his grip. “Listen. You are not allowed to stop looking at me.”

Remus’ eyes turned sad as his hand dipped down to play at the collar of Sirius’ shirt, too weak to go higher. “I think I have to.”

“No.”

“Sirius—”

“We still have so much to do.” Something heavy stuck in his throat. “I need—I need to show you the stars back home, the ones you’ve never seen.”

The smile returned, molasses-slow and twitching up at one side. Crooked and beautiful, just like him. “The archer.”

“That’s right.” His gaze unfocused and Sirius quickly rubbed his shoulder. “That’s you, your constellation. Just keep looking at me, alright? James will be here soon, and—and Lily, and Dorcas, and Marlene, and Pete, and we’ll all be just fine. I love you.”

Every breath rattled in Remus’ chest, but he kept smiling up at Sirius. “Hey. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“Good,” Sirius gasped out. “Good, that’s good. Come on, love, tell me what I can do to help.”

“Hold me.” His abdomen spasmed under Sirius’ damp hand. “Tell me what we’ll do together.”

“We’ll climb the tallest tree we can find and lay down on the top branches while the moon rises.” Tears coursed in stinging rivers down his face, dripping onto stone and pallid skin. “I’ll teach you every constellation I know, and then we can make up new ones. You’re so bloody clever, so you’ll think up the best ones. That’s why I love you.”

“I never hated you, you know.”

Sirius’ chest hurt from holding in a sob. “I know.”

“I’ve loved you since the day we met. I just didn’t know it.”

“Me, too.”

“Wasn’t all that clever of me to fight a troll with a bow, was it?” Remus’ tone was teasing, but his face was sad as a few tears slid down his cheekbone. Sirius wiped them away with a careful hand, forcing back a wince at the chill. “Though I guess you could call that creati—”

He cut off with a coughing fit, grabbing for Sirius’ cuff and sleeve. His mouth opened and closed a few times, soundless, before his head lolled to the side. “No, no, eyes on me. Please don’t do this, Remus.”

With a harsh inhale, he looked up once again, brows furrowing in concern. "You're too beautiful to cry like that. Why are you sad?"

Because you're dying and I can't do a damn thing but hold you. Because I'd fight a hundred armies and die a thousand times just so you could live. Because we were supposed to have time. "Because I don't want you to leave me."

Remus' fingers, light as a butterfly's wings on his loved ones and deadlier than anything on a bow, were limp on Sirius' arm. A sudden spark of understanding crossed over his pale face and he softened. "You have to let me go."

"No."

"You have to."

"I won't." He shook his head adamantly and tried to coax blood back into those cold hands. "This is not supposed to happen, not like this."

"Sirius." A barely-there squeeze. "I love you so much, but you have to let me go."

A high, horrible sound ripped from his clogged throat. "I'm sorry."

"You saved my life. You have nothing to be sorry for." There was a look in Remus' eyes, then, a look that Sirius knew the name for and didn't dare say aloud. Then it faded, and he blinked slowly. "I'm so tired, Sirius."

Who would have guessed that nodding once was the hardest thing Sirius would ever have to do? "Sleep, love. I'll be here when you wake up."

Remus leaned his face into the crook of Sirius’ elbow, keeping steady eye contact until lilac lids shuttered liquid gold. “I lo…”

His hand fell from Sirius’ and hit the cold ground. His chest went still with a soft sigh.

Sirius could barely breathe. There was a ringing in his ears that grew louder and louder until he heard nothing else, even though his throat began to sting from screaming. He pulled Remus closer to his chest and held him, desperately searching the mist for anyone who could help. His eyes landed on the sturdy bow with a snapped string lying mere feet away, and he broke.

He didn't know how long he wept. Minutes. Hours. Years. He begged and pleaded and cursed until he was hollow inside, save for the agony that devoured everything. It must be possible to die of a broken heart, he thought. It must be, because I can't imagine anything else hurting this much. It felt as though someone was ripping him apart seam by seam and all he could do was apologize before going silent.

Hold me. Hold me. Hold me and tell me. I love you.

Soon—or maybe later, time was a fickle thing—long shadows stretched ahead of him and he raised his head. He didn't care if they were trolls or soldiers or more beasts; there was nothing left for them to take. "Sirius?"

He knew that voice. That voice was safety. It was home. "James."

"We heard shouting, what—” James stopped. Someone behind him screamed, long and loud. "Sirius, what's in your arms?" There was a beat of silence as Sirius tried to balance his hearing again. "Sirius, what are you holding?"

The last remaining tears in his body flooded out as he uncurled just enough to show them. Remus' face was peaceful, but the mess of blood on his stomach that had transferred to Sirius' shirt was not. "He was protecting me," he said. "The knife—I couldn't do anything—”

"No." James' voice cracked; the screaming had turned into uncontrollable sobbing. "No, that's—that's Remus. That's Remus."

"He said he loved me." The words tripped over one another as they left his mouth. James didn't need to know this, but he couldn't stop. "He said he loved me and asked me to hold him, so I did. He told me I had to let him go, but I didn't want to. I didn't want to, James, I didn't want to."

“I know.” Warm, shaking hands fell on him, one on his neck and the other around Remus’ back. “I know you didn’t.”

Sirius' shoulders crumpled as a fresh wave of pain washed over him. "Make it stop."

"Make what stop?"

"This." He released Remus' lower back and grappled for James' wrist with a sticky hand, pressing it against his chest. "It hurts so much. Please, Jamie, you have no idea what this feels like."

“I don’t—Sirius—” James bit his lip and closed his eyes, then opened them a second later with a shocked look on his face. “I have an idea.”

“Please—”

The shock gave way to diamond-hard determination and he squeezed Sirius’ hand. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

“Then you have to let him go one more time.”

Something lurched in Sirius’ gut. “I can’t. I promised to hold him.”

“Sirius, I can fix this.”

"He's gone. I felt it. It's too late."

“Maybe not.” Gently, he pried Sirius’ arms away and helped him lay Remus on the stone.

He looked frail there. False. “You’re a healer, James, not a necromancer. Healers can’t—”

“I don’t give a shit. Rules are for cowards.” James unbuckled his arm guards and stretched his hands over Remus’ chest, taking a slow breath. “Alright, Remus, heal for me.”

Faint light pulsed from his palms, then dissolved. Sirius felt his last bit of hope wither. “It’s too late.”

“Oh, no you don’t,” James muttered through gritted teeth. The light returned, stronger this time, before sinking into Remus’ chest. “Remus John Lupin, you have unfinished business here and you know it. I will personally drag you back here if I have to. A ghost isn’t good enough.”

A high-pitched whining noise filled the air and Sirius tasted metal at the back of his mouth. “James,” Lily warned from the huddled group behind him.

“You’ve never given up easy, have you? Come on, you stubborn fucker, heal!” James slammed his hands down and white light blazed around them; Sirius shielded his eyes on instinct and felt a strong wind whip up as shouts of alarm echoed off the sides of the cliff.

Something knocked against his knees with a sharp gasp. The light dimmed, and he carefully peeked around the side of his arm.

The first thing he saw was amber. Clear, warm, alive amber. “You’re here,” Remus croaked.

Sirius felt a slightly hysterical smile tug at the sides of his mouth. “Told you I’d be here when you woke up.”

“I…died.”

“Yeah.” James seemed torn between ecstatic and utterly exhausted.

“You brought me back?”

“Uh-huh.” He listed to the side and Remus caught him easily before he hit the ground.

“And you…?” Remus blinked at Sirius in surprise, hesitantly touching his hand. “You stayed?”

“Cried a lot. It’s a good thing you’re a fighter. One of the things I love about you, actually.”

Remus stared at him for a moment, dumbstruck, before his whole face split into the most radiant smile Sirius had ever seen and he began to laugh, dragging him in for a tight hug. Sirius clutched the back of his shirt and nestled his face in the bend of his shoulder until he was pulled away rather suddenly and reeled back in for a fervent kiss. "I love you. I love you. I'm sorry," Remus said against his lips. It seemed as if he was breathing Sirius in.

It was difficult, but Sirius pulled away and folded his hands over Remus' where they rested on his face. "I love you so much. Now that you're alive, I can tell you you're an idiot for trying to take on a damn troll with just your bow."

Remus just laughed and kissed him again, deep and slow. They broke apart again as the others fell on them in a tangle of tears and laughter; Sirius closed his eyes and held tight to whoever was in reach as the agony in his chest subsided. The pain was still there—he had definitely broken a few ribs—but he no longer felt hollow. Buzzing warmth filled every crack that had splintered through him. Love, he thought giddily. That's love.

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Text

Pastime (with good company) (ao3) (aka NMJ/WWX/LWJ) - part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, past 5, part 6, part 7

Wei Wuxian still wasn’t sure how Lan Wangji had convinced him to come to Qinghe in the middle of the night, even flying through the middle of a thunderstorm to get there.

Possibly he’d still been thinking with his lower half at the time that he’d agreed – he’d been so close to the edge, skating on it, holding himself back intentionally so that the eventual peak would be even better, and to have it snatched away at the last moment had been brutal.

Or maybe it had been the panic in Lan Wangji’s eyes. The worry, the fear.

The realization that someone knew.

He hadn’t been all that concerned with pleasure after that.

“You can’t tell anyone,” he’d begged, desperate. “Please, Lan Zhan – not anyone! No one can know!”

Lan Wangji had wavered, seeing how much it mattered to him and wanting to honor his wishes, wanting to help him - Lan Wangji always wanted to help him - but also needing to share the unexpected burden. In the end he had insisted: “One person. Wei Ying, a marriage cannot be founded on a lie.”

Nothing else in the world would have worked to convince him, given the risks of disclosure, the risk that if more people knew that the secret would get out, that Jiang Cheng would find out, but that –

That did.

Lan Wangji was right: it was one thing to enter a marriage for convenience, for political gain; if that was all there was to it, then Wei Wuxian wouldn’t have needed to say anything. He could have hidden it forever, refused to dual cultivate beyond acting as a passive vessel; he could have presented himself in the marriage not as Wei Wuxian but as the Yiling Patriach, with all the benefits and disadvantages that came with it, and that would be that.

But it wasn’t just that.

Maybe it started out that way, but it wasn’t that way now. Not with the way Nie Mingjue had smiled at him, the way he’d looked at him, intense and serious, after that spar – the discussion they’d had afterwards, when he’d raised his proposal again, serious this time, that they would all marry, the three of them. When he had made clear that his offer could be rejected at will without insult, that he meant it as something that was not for politics, not for need, just…to be married. To be together, the three of them, all three of them, to exchange bows and vow to live together as husbands for the rest of their lives, simply because they wanted to.

Nie Mingjue and Lan Wangji both - they’d been clear about what they wanted, and they wanted a marriage with Wei Wuxian, and not his reputation.

Lan Wangji was right.

A marriage like that – a marriage like the ones his parents had, when his mother had picked an outstanding servant over all the other more promising or well-respected men she could have had simply because he made her laugh, the type of marriage he’d always dreamed of, the type he’d always wanted for himself – couldn’t be founded on a lie.

And so they were on their way to Qinghe.

The journey was long, even by sword, even for someone with cultivation as high as Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian had not enjoyed flying on a sword since the he’d been thrown into the Burial Mounds, refusing Wen Qing’s occasional well-intentioned offers; he tried to get some enjoyment out of the fact that his arms were wrapped around Lan Wangji’s waist, his front pressed up against Lan Wangji’s back (he wondered if Lan Wangji would let him rut up against him like this, put himself between those white thighs until they were dirty –) but even the most sexually charged fantasies faded away into the cold reality that he was going to need to talk about this.

And that was before it started raining.

The last shichen of the trip was in complete silence, and only the warmth of Lan Wangji’s hand against his, his spiritual energy flowing calmly between them, kept Wei Wuxian from true panic. And then they were in Qinghe, landing in front of the door, and the guards at the gate were letting them in and then –

Nie Mingjue was there, waiting the entry hall.

Beautiful Nie Mingjue, who was only half-dressed, his hair unbound and with only an outer robe over his underclothing that he’d thrown on but hadn’t bothered to belt before rushing to the doorway, concern clearly written all over his face.

“What happened?” he asked.

“There’s no emergency,” Wei Wuxian said, and when Lan Wangji turned to glare at him, he raised his hands. “There isn’t! It’s been like this for months, Lan Zhan, and nothing will change if we let Mingjue-xiong get some sleep; we really didn’t have to fly here in the middle of the night –”

“To confirm – no attack has broken out, and no one is imminently dying?” Nie Mingjue interrupted.

Even Lan Wangji was forced to nod at that.

“In that case, you can come inside and have some tea while you explain,” Nie Mingjue said, waving his hand at one of the deputies that was lingering there. “I don’t mind being awake at this hour, but our sentries saw you coming through the storm and I thought it might be a situation where we would need to raise the army.”

Wei Wuxian’s shoulders hunched up. He should have thought about that, they both should have thought about that: Nie Mingjue was not merely a sect leader but a general, not merely a general but the leader of the Sunshot Campaign, the general that had given orders to generals; of course he would think first of war. “Nothing like that.”

“My apologies,” Lan Wangji said. “Our urgency was only my eagerness.”

“Don’t apologize,” Nie Mingjue said briskly. “Matters can be urgent even without a battle; it’s only a question of scale. Follow me.”

He led them to a small receiving room – it wasn’t the one usually used for guests, which Wei Wuxian had been to before, but something more intimate, warmer: the wooden furniture was sparse in the way it always was in Qinghe, with a restrained sort of charm, but there were intricate metal whorls on the walls that caught the eye and soft tapestries that made the cold stone feel less hostile.

“All right,” Nie Mingjue said as he strode into the room. “There’s tea in the corner; one of you can prepare it. Now tell me what the matter is.”

Wei Wuxian looked at him.

“…perhaps Sect Leader Nie would like to get dressed first?” he suggested, a little desperately.

It was a stalling method, yes, but also – really. There was a certain amount of stress a man could be under at one time, and trying to actually tell someone about everything that had happened would be bad enough without having to also figure out how not to stare at the part of Nie Mingjue’s white under-robes that had started gaping open at the chest, a glimpse of supple flesh and the barest hint of pink –

Nie Mingjue huffed, though it was unclear whether it was out of annoyance or recognition of the effect he was having. “Very well. Wangji, the tea?”

The second he left, Wei Wuxian turned to Lan Wangji. “I know we’re here for a very serious reason and we’re going to need to talk about things and all that, but you saw that, right?”

Lan Wangji’s ears went red.

“Oh, you saw it all right,” Wei Wuxian said, and grinned. “Did it make you want to bite?”

“Wei Ying.”

“All right, all right, I’ll stop. And yes, I’ll – I’ll explain. To both of you.”

A marriage cannot be built on a lie.

Wei Wuxian wanted this marriage to work. He wanted it to be a partnership, like the one his parents had, not – not what Uncle Jiang and Madame Yu had.

The only way he could get what he wanted was if he told them the truth: that he had lost (given up) his golden core during the war, that he could no longer cultivate the orthodox path of the sword, that demonic cultivation was not only a choice but a mandate.

(They didn’t need to know about Jiang Cheng.)

When Nie Mingjue returned, now fully dressed and his hair pulled back in the simplest possible crown, no braids or anything, Wei Wuxian didn’t hesitate.

Nie Mingjue and Lan Wangji were mercifully silent during his explanation, interrupting only long enough to ask some questions – good ones, thoughtful ones. Some were aimed at understanding more of what he went through in the Burial Mounds, while others gently pointed out flaws in his story, sometimes embarrassing ones; if he were ever to tell this story to others, he would need to cover those up better.

They knew he was hiding something, but they let him hide it.

They trusted him.

(Maybe he would tell them about Jiang Cheng after all. But – not yet.)

When he finished, they were quiet for a long moment.

“Thank you for telling me,” Nie Mingjue finally said, and he meant it, too; he was Nie Mingjue, he didn’t say things lightly. If he was angry, he would have shown it, just as he had when Wei Wuxian had described what Wen Chao had done to him before rushing ahead and making clear that Wen Qing had helped him (a deliberate blurring of the timeline, but there was nothing he could do about it) but now there was no anger anywhere on his face, just thoughtfulness. “It explains – a great deal.”

Lan Wangji nodded in agreement, and Wei Wuxian felt the stickiness of guilt: would Lan Wangji think of all those times he’d begged Wei Wuxian to come with him to Gusu, to stop using demonic cultivation, and think himself a fool? Would he think Wei Wuxian had been laughing at him, knowing it was impossible?

He wouldn’t, of course, but Wei Wuxian felt guilty regardless.

“Not to get stuck on technical matters,” Nie Mingjue continued, “but curiosity compels me to ask. What forging are you using as the channel?”

Whatever Wei Wuxian might have expected Nie Mingjue to say, whether scolding or sympathy or even pity, it wasn’t that.

He didn’t even understand that.

“What?” he said blankly.

“Is it that seal of yours? Or something else?”

“Forging?” Lan Wangji asked. He looked as confused as Wei Wuxian. “Wei Ying uses his flute to cultivate.”

Nie Mingjue’s frown deepened. “Resentful energy corrodes the protections of the souls if used for too long without a venting channel – without a proper outlet, the corrosion will build up in the meridians and dantian, and will ultimately lead to a backlash…are you saying you aren’t using one at all?”

“Are you saying you know about the effects of resentful energy?” Wei Wuxian asked, eyes lighting up. “I’ve never heard anything about venting, corrosion, or build-up – though it makes sense, actually, given some of the other aspects of resentful energy that I’ve observed or theorized. Gathering resentful energy has an exponential effect, the reason why a bunch of drownings in one place don’t just make more water ghouls, but a Waterborne Abyss, and why a battlefield is easier to raise than a single grave…everyone says demonic cultivation affects the temperament, but there’s never any detail. I haven’t been able to find any books on it.”

“Nor I,” Lan Wangji said. “Even in the forbidden portion of the clan library.”

“There aren’t many books,” Nie Mingjue agreed. “Demonic cultivation is well known to be forbidden, so most of the knowledge is handed down orally.”

Lan Wangji’s back got even straighter, if that was even possible, and Wei Wuxian understood the implication a second later: the Nie sect had always been a bit of an outlier from the other sects, Qinghe with its reputation for oddity, with its strange rituals and bizarre customs, its pride in having descended from butchers, a bloody profession associated with resentment, rather than gentry –

“You use demonic cultivation,” Wei Wuxian breathed.

“Not the way you use it, we don’t,” Nie Mingjue said dryly. “Let us not take away from the magnitude of your achievement in creating an entirely new cultivation path, Wei Wuxian, and one that can be used by those who cannot cultivate in the traditional fashion no less. We do not cultivate the ability to manipulate fierce corpses through their resentful energy, I’d never even heard of such a thing before, but we do utilize resentful energy in a fashion that other sects do not.”

“What do you use it for?” Lan Wangji asked. He looked as fascinated as Wei Wuxian was – really, he wasn’t that hard to read at all, once you had an idea of what to look for. All of his expressions were in the little things, the way his eyes curved or narrowed, the redness of his ears, the corners of his lips.

Nie Mingjue’s fingers flicked, a seemingly casual movement, but only a few seconds later the door slammed open as his saber flew into the room, hovering for a moment before whistling through the air as it made its way to Nie Mingjue’s hand.

Wei Wuxian turned to stare.

“The personal quarters of the Nie clan aren’t anywhere near this hall,” he said slowly. “You clearly left your saber behind when you came to greet us, which I appreciate as a gesture of trust even though we wouldn’t have taken insult if you did…you summoned it all the way from here, and it came on its own? How could you guide it through all those hallways without using hand seals?”

“For something so straightforward, Baxia does not require guidance,” Nie Mingjue said, and held the saber out lengthwise for them to look at. “You asked what we use resentful energy for: this is the answer.”

“Only the most powerful spiritual weapons have enough awareness to recognize their masters,” Lan Wangji said, leaning forward. His eyes were bright with curiosity, with not a trace of judgment for the unorthodoxy they were discussing, and Wei Wuxian would spare some time to think about how beautiful Lan Wangji was in full scholar mode if he wasn’t equally entranced by Nie Mingjue’s revelations. “Much less find their way through a complicated series of hallways when their master wants them, without even a single hand seal acting as a summon…the Nie sect’s sabers have always been regarded as the finest weapons one can use against resentful beasts.”

“Very good as always, Wangji,” Nie Mingjue said, and Lan Wangji looked pleased at the recognition. “The founder of our sect was a butcher as well as a cultivator. As you know, occupations that require blood are notoriously considered bad for cultivation, the resentful energy from the work affecting their temperament and potential – take the traditional example of the fate of the executioner, who might arise as a fierce corpse despite lacking any resentments of his own. But my ancestor realized that the resentful energy of the beasts he slaughtered could be channeled not in the wielder of the saber, but the saber itself, and in doing so it would grow more powerful in its own right – power that could then be used to supplement the traditional orthodoxy of the dao of the sword and saber.”

Wei Wuxian’s brain was bubbling full of new ideas that had never even occurred to him before. The approach wasn’t as unorthodox as his own cultivation, nor perhaps would it be as reviled – the resentful energy of yao would be far less pernicious than the type he used, which came from humans, and using it as a whetstone to sharpen a sword’s spirit was far less intrusive than manipulating it directly as if it were spiritual energy – but it was fascinatingly different from everything he’d grown up hearing.

“What’s the cost?” he asked, because that was important. There had to be a cost, something the Nie sect was willing to pay that others weren’t, or else the secret would have gotten out at some point and become widespread.

“The difficulty in managing the process as the saber strengthens,” Nie Mingjue said. “The saber can store resentful energy, but we are the ones to cultivate it; it passes through us, and in time the strain will become too much unless we break through the limits of our cultivation and reach the heavens in a single bound. We trade the latter half of our lives for the power to make a difference in the first.”

“Qi deviation,” Lan Wangji murmured. All the Nie sect leaders had died of it, eventually; the fact of it was well known.

“Every generation tries some new means to mitigate it, some of which work better than others,” Nie Mingjue said with a shrug. “I had meant to make it clear to both of you before the wedding, but chances are high that the two of you will outlive me – though with luck the time is still some distance off.”

Wei Wuxian’s fingers curled together into fists in his lap, and he sees the stiffness in Lan Wangji’s spine that has nothing to do with pride; he didn’t need to share glances with him to know that they were both in violent agreement that something would need to be done about that.

After all, neither of them were interested in becoming widows, and together they could do marvelous things, unthinkable things – especially if Lan Wangji were willing, as Wei Wuxian for the very first time thought he might be, to help him research the more esoteric possibilities, to delve into the mysteries of his demonic cultivation and find out its reaches, the benefits and the costs that could be extracted from it.

If Nie Mingjue thought his husbands would just placidly accept a future without him, he would just have to wait and see what they would do.

“The tendency towards qi imbalances cause by our way of cultivating is aggravated by the hereditary Nie temper, which is said to be aggravated by the cultivation style in turn,” Nie Mingjue said, his voice a little dry; he was clearly well aware of his faults. “That’s one of the reasons I want to leave my sect to Huaisang in the future – he might not be the strongest cultivator, whether due to his naturally weaker talent or just because of how lazy he is, but he’s calm and thoughtful instead of temperamental, capable of great patience, and he cultivated a golden core using our traditional methods without losing those qualities.”

“I mean, I guess I’ve seen him with his saber,” Wei Wuxian said, a little doubtfully. “Not to be rude, but has he ever used it?”

Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes. “Not as much as he should, but yes, he’s even cultivated the spirit within it. Unfortunately, the saber and the master reflect each other, which means his saber turned out to be a lazy plonk that would rather act as a paperweight than actually stab someone.”

Wei Wuxian tried, and failed, to hide his smirk. He wondered if he could somehow use Nie techniques to regain control over Suibian, despite lacking a golden core – how wonderful it would be, if that were possible!

He thought there was a good chance Nie Mingjue would agree to teach him what he needed to know to do it, too.

“I had assumed you were using the Stygian Tiger Seal as a channel in a similar manner to the way I use my saber,” Nie Mingjue continued, frowning again. “That’s clearly not the case, and that means your demonic cultivation is even more radical an innovation than I had previously considered it to be. However, with your consent, I would like to build you a channel for you to try to start processing your cultivation through, in the hopes that it will work to ease the strain of it on you. My clan uses forging, a mixture of metal and qi, to create a base that can be built up into a saber, though I suppose in your case it doesn’t have to be. Tonight, if you’re not too tired.”

Wei Wuxian nodded. He’d known that backlash was a possibility, had already accepted that he’d likely have an early death as a result of it, had arrogantly assumed he’d be able to come up with something to prevent it, but just because he was doing something new didn’t mean he couldn’t try to supplement it with something that had been practiced for generations – especially since given how he’d used demonic cultivation so far, any backlash would probably end up with him ripped to pieces by a thousand fierce ghosts.

Not really his ideal death.

Especially not before he managed to marry these two!

“I don’t want other people to know, though,” he said, his fingers twisting in his robes at the mere thought. The same anxiety as before: the more people knew his secret, the more chance there was of someone slipping up, of someone finding out – of Jiang Cheng finding out, and his shidi wasn’t stupid, merely too trusting to those he loved; he’d figure it out as soon as the pieces came together. “How many do we need to tell to do it?”

“None,” Nie Mingjue said, and Wei Wuxian started in surprise. “Are you not my intended husband? I can do it myself.”

He paused a moment, and then smiled. “Thank you.”

Wei Wuxian blinked at him. “For what?”

“For allowing me the opportunity to finally get Huaisang off my case about picking your betrothal gift.”

Lan Wangji huffed in amusement, as if some guess had been confirmed, and Wei Wuxian thought that maybe there was a chance this whole thing wouldn’t be a disaster after all.

#mdzs #wei wuxian #lan wangji #nie mingjue #my fic #my fics #academic discussion of demonic cultivation #for those following along you may have a hint of what happens next chapter #pastime with good company

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tack-tick · 3 years

Text

Technoblade Sometimes Dies

@dreamsmp-au-ideas I wrote a thing based on for the SBI Swap AU. Everyone else check out this blog if you haven’t already. Loads of great ideas on there and the person who runs the blog gives good responses to ideas!

To those who don’t know, basic gist it Tommy swapped with Techno and Philza swapped with Wilbur. This is about the duel to determine L’Manberg’s independence, which doesn’t go well for Techno. If this does well, there’ll probably be a second part.

ao3 link here- https://archiveofourown.org/works/29849562

“Techno, for Twitch’s sake just set a respawn,” Philza said as he gave Techno a small shove towards the bed. Techno sighed as he sat on the bed.

“Really Phil,” he said “You think I’m gonna lose to Dream of all people, I kinda have a motto to keep up”

“Technoblade never dies, I know but,” Philza sighed as he rubbed a hand across his face “Dream is a very skilled fighter, you know that”

Techno shrugged as he got up from the bed and straightened his uniform. The two has cleaned it up as best as they could but the green and white had long since fades after many battles. Techno had already told him he was switching back to wearing his cloak after the war ended. He always said that if there was one thing L’Manberg needed, it was a bit more style.

“Besides, Tommy would never let me hear the end of it,” Techno said with a shudder. Philza chucked at the thought as he checked to make sure he had healing potions on him.

“You ready, mate?” He said as he nodded towards the door. Techno gave him a confident grin and the two walked out.

If Philza had known what was going to happen, then he would’ve just given up L’Manberg’s independence.

The five members of the L’Manberg squadron marched to the path, each one quiet.

Ranboo was whispering encouragement to Techno, but he seemed more like he was trying to reassure himself rather than the older man. Philza heard Techno say something about making sure he wrote down Techno winning the duel in his memory journal.

Philza could feel Bad giving him worried glances as he whispered with Skeppy about something. He glanced over at Bad to give him a reasssuring smile. Skeppy wasn’t telling any jokes for once. Instead, he kept his hand on his sword handle, ready to pull it out and fight if needed. The five slowed down as they reached the top of the hill, where Dream and his goons were waiting. Dream, George, and Sapnap.

“What’s Eret doing here?” Skeppy hissed. Philza glanced up in surprise. He figured the traitor would rather hide out in their castle than come out and watch. Philza shook his head. Now wasn’t the time to worry about that.

“You think I’m gonna win?” Techno said to him as the two left the group and walked to the center “Chat’s already giving me the L”

Philza rolled his eyes. “Tell Chat that Dadza says to shut it” He gave Techno a light pat on the back “It’s time to show Dream the power of The Blood God”

Techno chuckled and gave him a confident grin. “Yeah, blood for The Blood God,” he said. The two stopped in front of Dream. Dream stood with his arms crossed, like a man who had much better things to do.

“I trust you have the potion?” Dream said and Philza wordlessly handed it over. He gave Techno one last glance before he flew to the small hill overlooking the path. The water below was silent and still, like nature itself knew the importance of this duel.

“I will count down from one to ten,” he shouted to the two armies, “Once I get to ten, you both shoot”

Techno and Dream both gave silent nods and turned around. Both were holding their bows casually, like this was just a casual fight and wouldn’t end in someone with one less life.

“One!”

The two each took one pace.

“Two!”

Philza glanced over at their enemies. George and Sapnap looked as arrogant as ever, even though he saw the glint of a healing potion in George’s hands. Eret was glancing back and forth between the sky and the fight. He pulled his red cloak closer to himself. Philza wondered if the traitor felt any guilt, any shame. Well, too late now.

“Three!”

L’Manberg’s side was watching anxiously. Ranboo already had his memory book and quill pulled out and he tapped the quill against the book. Bad has the bandages out and he was crouched, ready to sprint to Techno with them if necessary. Skeppy glared at the SMP forces, especially at Eret. Philza saw Eret whilt a little under the glare. Even though Techno had told them over and over again that he would be fine, both sides knew one thing.

“Four!”

If anyone could beat Techno, it was Dream.

“Five!”

If anyone could beat Dream, it was Techno.

“Six!”

Philza winced as he saw Techno shudder at the sixth pace. He couldn’t see what Dream was doing, but he hoped the potion was affecting him as well. By now, they should both have reached half a heart.

“Seven!”

Philza should have know not to take Techno to the negotiations. He knew that if there was one thing Techno hated, it was losing. He’d already proved that during the potato war. Techno had insisted on coming in case Dream tried anything. Even if Philza could protect himself just fine, thank you very much.

“Eight!”

Techno was muttering something under his breath. Philza could just imagine what Chat was saying at this point. Probably a jumbled up mess of tips and discouragement and E. Philza actually wasn’t sure what would happen to Chat if Techno died. Whether they would be stuck in the void with him or temporarily released out in the world. He hoped they wouldn’t find out.

“Nine!”

Techno gave him one last look and Philza gave him what he hoped was an encouraging smile. Underneath the confident air, he saw just the slightest trace of fear in Techno’s eyes. Like he just now realized what he had gotten himself into. Then, the fear disappeared as Techno looked away and readied his bow. Philza raised his hand at the final pace.

“Ten paces, fire!”

The two warriors both spun around and arrows flew from their bows. Years of fighting and experience were clear in their shots. It was also clear in that they both dodged the shots with ease. Techno’s arrow landed behind Dream and Dream’s arrow was slowly sinking in the water. Techno quickly jumped into the water and started desperately digging in the mud for the arrow.

Techno let out a triumphant yell when he found tha arrow. Philza sighed in relief but then he heard a sharp gasp from Bad. Philza’s eyes widened in horror as he saw that Dream got his arrow first and was aiming it straight at Techno’s back.

Techno wouldn’t see it in time. Philza could only watch, frozen in horror, as Techno spun around to aim.

The cocky grin slipped off his face as the arrow hit his chest with a sickening thump.

“TECHNO!” Philza screamed as he flew towards the water. He heard yells, both of horror and triumph. He heard splashes as the others ran towards them. Philza tried not to look down at the now bloody water. Philza scrambled through the water and sat Techno up. He could already feel tears welling up at the sight of him.

The arrow was sticking out of his chest and Techno’s eyes already looked dead. His clothes had so much, too much blood on them. Techno was looking at the arrow in shock, like if he blinked it would disappear.

“Phil, I don’t think I can, I mean I don’t think he’s going to,” Bad trailed off as he held the bandages limply in his arms.

“There’s got to be something you can do!” Ranboo said as he looked back and forth between Techno and Bad, his eyes flickering from red and green to purple. Philza vaguely heard Skeppy yelling at Dream to stay away. Philza couldn’t focus on them.

Techno was going to lose a life. His son was going to lose a life and it was his fault and he never ever should have-

“D-dad,” Everyone went quiet as Techno tugged on Philza’s sleeve. “I’m...sorry”

“Don’t be sorry,” Philza said with a watery chuckle as he pulled Techno up into a hug and ran his fingers through his hair. Like they used to do back in the old days when Chat was too loud and Philza was the only one Techno would turn to. “You’re gonna be just fine, Bad will fix you up and-“

“Heh, no I’m...not” Techno said as he clutched at Philza’s jacket, “Don’t worry...I’ll come back...soon as I can”

Philza let out a sob as he felt Techno’s chest start to slow down. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m-”

“I choose...this” Techno said, his words getting painfully slow, “Won’t regret it...one bit”

“You’ve done such a good job Tech” Philza said, “I’m so proud of you”

“D-dad?” Techno said.

“Yes, son?”

For the first time in years, Philza heard fear in Techno’s voice. “I’m scar-”

And then there was a poof of smoke and Philza was left holding a jacket stained with blood and tears and a golden crown that fell into his lap. Philza was sure he could hear Ranboo crying.

“Oh my goodness Phil,” Bad said as he crouched down beside him and swept him up in a hug. Philza clutched at Techno’s jacket and for a moment everyone was quiet.

Then Philza collapsed into Bad’s arms and let out a heart wrenching cry as he sobbed. As he sobbed for the son who he was supposed to protect.

Philza sobbed and all Bad could do was hug him even tighter.

Philza wasn’t a general mourning the loss of his country. Philza was just a father who had done one of the worst things a father could do.

Leave their child behind.

#dream smp #technoblade #philza #ranboo #skeppy #fanfic #first fanfic actually #hype!#Never written one before #so I’m a little nervous #I think it’s at least decent #Hope you guys like it!#it’s been nice to write again!#sbi swap

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 4 years

Text

Revenge [Heart of Steel]

Heart of Steel - One Shot

Do not read before you finish the series.

Y/N was slowly but surely seeing Midgard as her new home. She felt less and less like a visitor every day.

This new sense of belonging, it made her happy.

Steve had decided to throw a tournament in honor of Midgard’s new Queen and his wife. The tournament included jousting, sword fighting, hand-to-hand fighting, and archery.

“Will you be gracing the kingdom with your archery skills today?” Steve asked Y/N as they sat down to watch the jousting that was about to begin.

Y/N was taken aback by the question, not knowing if he was being serious or simply teasing her.

But when she looked over at him, his expression was sincere.

“Would that not be…improper?” She asked carefully.

He smiled at her cautiousness. “Why would I ever wish to hide your talents? Perhaps the Midgardians should know of their Queen’s strength and skill, and not just of her beauty.”

Y/N blushed at the compliment. “I shall consider it.”

That seemed to be good enough for him.

The first pair of knights to joust brought their horses in front of their King and Queen. Both of them took off their helmets and bowed to them.

Then one of them appeared to have a rose in his hands. He reached forward, clearly intending to give it to Y/N.

“A rose to honor my new Queen, Your Majesty,” he said with another bow.

Y/N smiled, flattered by the gesture and took the rose. The crowd applauded at the moment.

As the competition went on, Steve noticed how Y/N jumped every time contact was made in a jousting round. He could tell from her expressions alone that she found it rather barbaric. She was not one to turn away from violence. But that was only when it was war, when it was necessary and there was no other choice.

This seemed like pointless violence to her.

But she kept her expression rather stoic. No one seemed to notice her discomfort, except for her husband.

As they were getting toward the end of the competition, Steve leaned over and whispered to her, “Will you reward the winner with a kiss from their Queen?” It was meant to distract her slightly from the discomfort of watching unnecessary violence.

She knew he meant to tease and embarrass her.

But it would take much more to do so.

“I shall,” she countered with a smirk.

Then she turned and tilted her head at him. “But if I am to win the archery event, who will I receive my reward from?”

“Why me, of course,” Steve laughed.

“And if I were to lose?” She challenged.

Then she smiled when Steve realized what she was asking, for she would be the only woman in the competition.

His eyes darkened. “Then I suggest you win, my queen.”

Y/N laughed lightly at his attempt at intimidation.

But then their little moment of laughter was interrupted by an arrow hitting the wooden railing, landing just inches away from them. It was closer to Y/N than Steve.

Y/N gasped, already knowing this was no accident.

It took Steve half a second to recognize the fletching. It was blood red.

Hydra.

It was another second before Steve shot to his feet, Y/N did the same, and Steve thrust her body behind him from the direction the arrow came.

In the same moment he moved her, another arrow came flying and landed in Steve’s chest.

“Steven!” Y/N screamed.

“We are under attack!” A royal guard shouted.

Cries of panic erupted from the crowed. Everyone stood and started rushing for any sort of cover.

“Protect the King and Queen!” Shouted a Knight of Howl.

Y/N was shaking as Steve dragged her back and into a tent, getting them under cover. A dozen knights now surrounded them.

Steve turned to her now.

Y/N’s eyes immediately found the arrow. In her panic, she didn’t realize it has landed in his shoulder and not his heart.

He growled when he looked down at it.

Without hesitating, he grabbed the shaft as close to the wound as possible and broke it. He barely even hissed from the pain of it.

“Steve…” Y/N’s voice shook as she watched him.

“I will be fine,” he reassured her before she could even ask him anything.

Then he turned to Sir Gabriel. “Have you spotted him yet?”

“There are archers hidden in the trees. The branches are too thick to see what trees they are in and how many there are.”

“Surely there cannot be too many. How on earth could they have snuck onto the castle grounds?” Y/N argued.

She peaked around Steve and the knights, ever so slightly, to look at the arrow that was embedded in the railing. She could tell what direction it had come from based on that alone. Her eyes followed an invisible line in the air and to one specific tree. And just as she did so, a branch shook slightly.

“Give me a bow,” she commanded without breaking her stare, she didn’t want to lose her point of reference.

Gabriel immediately grabbed one from his men and handed it to her.

Y/N grabbed an arrow and nocked it.

“I need to go out there,”

“Y/N,” Steve warned.

“I have a shot, Steve! You know no one else does. Use your shields to give me cover or stay out of my way,” she warned without looking at any of them.

Steve grabbed a shield and told his knights to do as she said.

Quickly Y/N walked out into the open and released the arrow. It whistled through the air and disappeared into the trees. A few seconds later, a man fell to the ground.

Suddenly Steve brought her to his chest, using his entire body as a shield for her, and holding an actual shield at his back to protect himself.

Y/N gasped and as she recognized the sound of an arrow hitting wood. Escaping her husbands embrace, she nocked another arrow and found her shot. She released it a second later and there was another body that fumbled to the ground from twenty feet up.

Before Y/N could even attempt to find another possible target, horns were being blown and the royal cavalry arrived – over a hundred of them, prepared for a full-blown attack.

“Look to the trees!” A captain yelled at them.

Steve pulled Y/N back to cover and safety underneath the tent behind them.

Now that she had a moment to breathe, Y/N looked at Steve’s wound. There was blood trickling from from where the arrow was still embedded in his shoulder.

“I will be fine,” he whispered to her when he saw the worry and fear in her eyes.

Suddenly a captain came rushing into the tent to address his king.

“We found no others. It was simply the two. One is dead, the other survived.”

“I did not mean to kill both,” Y/N answered. “I wish to question him.”

Steve couldn’t help but smirk at her. She never ceased to amaze him. “Seize him and deliver him to the dungeons,” he ordered.

The captain nodded and quickly left.

———————-

Y/N now sat in front of the fire with Steve, who was shirtless. The physicians and healers had rid him of his clothing when they came to tend to his wound.

They had put a paste around it, saying it would ease his pain and also prevent it was festering.

“Perhaps you should leave,” Steve had warned his wife.

But she immediately shook her head. “I will do no such thing.”

Steve chuckled, “This is not my first affliction, Y/N. Nor will it be my last.”

But she already knew that was true, for his skin was already covered in various scars.

“Is that meant to make me feel better?” She accused.

“Are you ready, Your Majesty?” A physician asked him.

Without asking for permission, Y/N grabbed both of Steve’s hands.

Steve nodded to the physician.

With a set of iron pliers, the physician grabbed a hold of the piece of arrow that stuck out of Steve’s skin. Without counting down or giving any sort of warning, he ripped it from his shoulder.

Steve let out a grumble, but his grip on Y/N’s hands barely tightened.

Not giving him even a moment to recover, another physician put a hot iron rod to the open wound, cauterizing it.

Steve hissed and Y/N looked away as she heard and smelt the burning off skin.

A healer put more paste around the are and then they left the royal couple alone.

The moment the door closed, Y/N leaned forward and kissed Steve.

“What was that for?” He whispered.

“For the pain, perhaps?” She offered.

He laughed before kissing her again.

But then he realized tears had formed in her eyes. “Y/N, all is well. Please, do not cry.”

She shook her head. “Just a short distance over and you would be dead, Steve.”

“I was lucky,” he admitted. Then he stood. “I must go to the dungeons now. Perhaps you should take a bath. I will have a servant bring food up for you. We have not eaten since breakfast.”

“No,” she said quickly. “I wish to accompany you.”

Steve wanted to say no and keep her away from the dungeons. They were not pleasant and no place for a woman. But he knew it would just upset her more if he were to deny her such a request.

“Very well...” He sighed.

---

Steve had a torch in one hand as he led them to the cellar where their prisoner waited. There were two knights in front of them and two behind. After such an attack, they were staying close to their King and Queen. Some felt they had failed already after the two assassins were almost successful.

“I must be very important to be graced with such company,” their assassin laughed as his face was lit by Steve’s torch.

“You are in the presence of King Steven and Queen Y/N of Midgard. Choose your words wisely,” Sir Gabriel warned the prisoner.

But the assassin still laughed.

“Who sent you?” Steve asked low and even.

“Hydra,” he responded.

“Hydra is dead. It is without a leader and its armies have dispersed,” Steve snapped back.

He shrugged. “Some remain loyal to the cause.”

“So you sought revenge and hoped to kill me?” Steve accused.

“Not you. The greatest revenge on you would be killing her,” he spat as he glared up at Y/N. “Killing you would not suffice. We wished to kill your precious Queen, and before she could ever bare you an heir to the throne.”

Steve shot forward and grabbed onto the prisoner’s neck, choking him. “You dare threaten her!”

The prisoner’s eyes widened as his ability to breathe was taken away. He couldn’t even try to remove Steve’s grip, for his hands were cuffed to the dungeon floor.

It was clear Steve’s intention was to strangle him to death right there and then.

“Steve! Wait!” Y/N jumped forward.

He dropped the prisoner, instantly listening to her command.

Once the prisoner caught his breath, he started laughing maniacally. “Women… all the same, weak and scared of violence.”

Y/N stepped forward slowly. “Are you so sure? For the wound in your side was my doing and no one else. I am who shot you down. And I kept you alive on purpose.”

She tilted her head and stared down at dark red spot on his tunic. Clearly no one had tended to his wounds, nor should they have.

“You wished to become a martyr? Kill me and meet death after taking one last life?”

He smiled.

“You wish to be so lucky,” Y/N spat. “There will be no execution for you.”

Steve eyed his wife carefully.

“You will rot in this dungeon. You can watch as your wound festers, and you grow sick from it. Your death with not be swift. You shall suffer, slowly and painfully.”

Then you should kneel down. “I hope you survive long enough to see me grow with child. Then you will die knowing the royal bloodline of Midgard will live on...while Hydra remains dead.”

Any glee or mocking had now disappeared from the prisoner. This was not what he expected, nor what he wanted.

Y/N slowly stood up and stepped back. She gave a look to Steve, telling him she had said all she wanted.

The prisoner looked at Steve, hopeful that he would undermine a Queen’s authority.

But the King simply glared at him and said, “It seems your fate has been decided.”

“Wait! Wait!” He cried out as they started to walk away.

But neither the King or Queen turned as they made their leave.

---

When they returned to their bedchambers, Steve had grown rather quiet.

“Steve?” She asked carefully.

His brow was furrowed as he muttered, “They were after you, not me.”

“Yes, but surely you are not surprised…”

“When I married you, when you became Queen of this Kingdom, I made an oath to protect you. I made a promise.”

Y/N rushed to him and clutched his face. “And you have! I am here, am I not?” She challenged.

Steve was deep in thought, unable to look into her eyes, even as she held him so tightly and so close.

His jaw tightened. “It will not happen again,” he growled.

“I know,” she whispered before kissing him. “I know.”

And she didn’t stop until his body relaxed and the tension was released.

Soon they were discarding each other’s clothes.

“Let us go to bed,” she had whispered as he traced her bare skin.

He nodded in agreement, knowing it was the only thing that could help him right then.

------------------------

Let me know what you think :) Thank you to the anon for inspiring me.

#heart of steel #heart of steel drables #heart of steel one shot #revenge one shot #revenge - heart of steel #king!steve rogers #medieval marvel au #King Steven of Midgard #Queen Y/N of Midgard #king!steve rogers x reader #king!steve rogers x queen!reader #knight marvel au #royal marvel au #medieval!steve rogers #steve rogers reader insert #steve rogers au

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artsyxloner · 3 years

Text

Not Just a Monster

Warning: blood, violence etc...

21: Outside Invaders

I felt a sense of guilt overwhelm me. When they began to drag Jae-Heon's lifeless body out of the elevator. Leaving the monster inside. I was stuck in a daze, I couldn't hear anything or anyone.

He didn't deserve to die not like this. He should still be alive and with Ji-Su. What will she say? I can't imagine her face finding out he was dead.

I squeezed my eyes shut, but reopened them when I heard my name being softly called. Hyun-Su was still leaning on the storage lockers struggling to get up. He was crying, seeing him in that state made my heart ache never seen him cry before.

Wiping my damp face off I got up and trudged over to him. I couldn't help but to shake Seeing Jae-Heon's blood everywhere and also his decapitated arm laying on the floor.

I averted my scarce eyes, remembering when his arm came flying off. I kept moving until I got to Hyun-Su he looked like he was in pain. But then I noticed his leg, blood was dripping from it and also his bone was sticking out like it had been snapped.

I was sick to my stomach. Seeing all this gore. I held my breath. " Are you okay?" His voice came out as a low whisper. I nodded, my gaze softening. " you're not though." Taking the spear from him. I bent down wrapping my arm over his back pulling him up as he tried to help.

He was heavy when I was successfully done pulling him up. I sat him down on the storage locker. He had brought his leg up, too. I was about to find something to wrap it but I felt his arms sling around my waist.

He buried his face into my pudgy stomach, I stood there frozen As his tears wet my shirt bringing my hand slowly up I ran it through his messy hair, he had given himself a haircut he looked different.

" This is my fault!" He whimpered, blaming himself. But why? He didn't do anything. I shook my head, " it's not your fault. How could've it been?" This just made him sob deeper tugging me closer if possible.

" if I— if I had just rung the bell sooner he wouldn't have died!"

" you don't know that for sure Hyun-Su."

So that was him that tried to warn us. " you did what you could do— no one blames you so don't feel guilty." I hugged him rubbing his back for comfort

" you tried, In the midst of it you got yourself hurt." I motioned towards his injured leg, " this just shows you care and that you're willing to get hurt to save people. You want to be a decent person even though it's fucking hard."

I said this meaning myself included. Bending down I kissed his head, " let's get you out of here okay?" I mentioned, hosting him up by wrapping my long arm around my chest as he slung his over my neck. We began to walk with him slightly limping.

As it still was dripping blood, but it will heal in no time. Making our way through, I had to stay tough for him. I didn't know the relationship between Hyun -Su, and Jae-Heon but I know that he cared for him and Ji-Soo since they came down from the upper apartments that day.

Soon after, Hyun-Su healed the guys had already buried Jae-Heon with the other dead. We were all standing in front of his grave, it was quiet. Hyun-Su stood beside me, he had a Sorrowful frown.

So I slid my hand in with his, he was hesitant as our fingertips brushed against one another. But our hands ended up locking together.

I gave it a gentle squeeze as Gil-Seob came over with a yellow paper flower laying it on Jae-Heon's grave. " you died when you should have lived, and I lived when I should have died."

He stepped back folding his hands together bowing his head. Gil-Seob is right Jae-Heon, he was the one that should have lived and I was the one that was supposed to die.

The funeral lasted for a short while after that, others gave a few words and slowly left. But I stayed, letting go of Hyun-Su's hand. I walked closer to the grave.

" I didn't get to say thank you for the praying session we had earlier, you've helped me I just wish I could've helped you I wish that you got your happy ending with Ji-soo,"

It wasn't fair even if this world was full of unfairness it could have given them a chance. I signed deep, " I'm going to check up on Ji-Soo I'll be back soon." I grabbed Hyun-Su's hand giving it a little squeeze leaving the room.

I figured he had to say some words to Jae-Heon by himself so I didn't want to intrude. Looking everywhere for Ji-Soo it took a while until I found her in a back room. I haven't been in before.

She was sitting in behind a couch, holding half of The katana sword, crying and looking more paler than ever. I frowned, " mine if I take a seat?" she noticed me and nodded. I sat down leaning my head back.

" I'm sorry about what happened, to be honest, it's my fault." I played with my fingers. She looked over at me, a lump formed in my throat I swallowed it continuing.

" I was trying to get Ms. Cha to safety, but the monster kept coming and he was about to hit me and me... I just stood there frozen but Jae-Heon came along and saved me." It was my turn to look at her.

" that doesn't mean it was your fault that could have happened to anyone." Her words were raspy and quiet, but I nodded. " yeah, I guess that's true." I picked up a little piece of my fingernail throwing it.

" it's just I know you're upset, and I know that you guys liked each other." She gripped his sword when I said this. " and it's not fair, but just um think of it this way. He died a hero if that makes you feel any better."

He did die a hero, that's probably the best way to go. I saw a little smile appear on her lips. " He didn't he," she pulled the sword closer to her. We sat there for a while up until I heard a big crash, it sounded like it came from the lobby entrance.

I was about to get up but Ji-Soo grabbed my shirt tugging to stop. " don't... don't go," she coughed, I realized if it was outside Invaders or a big monster they somehow would find Ji-Soo and kill her, she couldn't protect herself right now.

There were all kinds of screaming, I wondered if Hyun-Soo and the others were alright. But soon there was gun a shot that made me jump a little. I don't remember us having any guns?

It was definitely outside Invaders, we kept quiet, not knowing who was shot. I wanted to help and get rid of these bastards. Maybe it has to do with that soldier that came in he acted all weird.

Remembering what he was saying something about the run he was probably warning us. Soon after there was another gunshot followed by footsteps walking this way.

I went stiff seeing the light turn on, and hearing dragging footsteps. I took the half-sword from her ready to use it if necessary. I breathed hard, squeezing my eyes shut then reopening them.

When I felt someone's presence on the couch we were behind, " it's two girls," it was a guy and he said it in a seductive way I didn't like, biting my lip I saw him bringing his crowbar down, " and one of them hurt."

He was about to touch Ji-Soo until I gripped the half-broken sword, swinging it up I smashed the hard end of it in his face. He let out a cry, falling back hitting the floor I was probably sure I Struck his nose.

Getting up he was cussing every breath-holding his face, it was bleeding his nose was all red and starting to well, the dude had crazy hair with ear and lip piercings.

I didn't waste time I ended up kicking his dirty face, in his head flew back. " try and touch her again you bitch!" I threatened, about to hit him where the sun doesn't sunshine until I felt something hard come in contact with my head right near my eyebrow.

They both threw the crowbar at me. Blood soon blurred my vision, seeing the creep get up he tackled me to the ground. I kneed his stomach, hearing him grunt I pushed him off me trying to get up but a sharp pain went through my leg.

I screamed out as He kept making weird-ass sounds, I saw him lick the bloodied crowbar, I almost puked feeling sick. I was about to hit him with the sword again up until I heard another voice.

I stopped, " that's enough," my head turned it was another guy about my age again he looked more decent but I didn't trust its looks were deceiving. " that's not the time to be doing that right now."

He suggested, piping his head out the door. but the crazy bitch looked up in anger. Like he was about to Growl. " get out." He tried to seem threatening but the boy just sighed walking in. " Jeung-Seop is looking for you." He took a small glance at me.

I tried to control my breathing as my leg was gushing blood I was in serious pain. " don't call him by his name you sad little pussy!!" He yelled at the boy but he just rolled his eyes Unphased. " It's not the time to be doing that right now. You could be killed."

He mentioned towards me, " by Jeung-Seop." Staring at the creep, he looked scared with his mouth wide open. But I saw him give the other boy a mean look getting up he walked away. With the other guy.

I let out a breath I didn't know I even had, I was shaking Scooting my leg up I hiss in pain, I ended up grabbing a cloth wrapping my leg tight. The dirty was fabric was already beginning to satin red.

Slowly I pushed myself up with my hands standing on my feet I wobbled a bit, I felt limping over towards the couch. I looked over it seeing Ji-Soo holding her side. " are you okay." I asked taking a deep breath.

My head felt fuzzy, I could see she nodded. " okay, I'm going to barricade the doors so they won't get in." I was about to go until she spoke up. " aren't– aren't you hurt." She whispered, I nodded.

" I'll be fine." Knowing it will heal soon mine just takes a little while. Even though it hurts I blocked the back door pushing furniture and other things against it. Making sure they won't be able to get in.

Next, I shuffled towards the other door giving back the sword to Ji-Soo I was about to shut it. " where are you going?" she questioned, " I'll come back later, I have to make sure you're safe first." was all I said locking the door from the inside shutting it.

I had grabbed a weapon, making sure if I run up on one of them I may be injured but I would surely use it. As I walked down the hallway ready to attack. I could feel my leg healing up by the minute.

@xetherealbeautyx

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onceinabluehanguangjun · 3 years

Text

moon in my window

Summary: for the @mdzsnet Lan Wangji birthday celebration, have some chronically depressed Lan Zhan and how his family (main focus on his husband) helps support him

Word Count: ~4k

Tags: depression, post-canon

ao3

“Ah, Er-gege, you’re too kind.”

Lan Wangji sat on the edge of the bed, a cup of tea in his hand which he held out to Wei Wuxian. He smiled in thanks, but couldn’t hide the wince. Mo Xuanyu’s body was admittedly very good at putting up with Wei Wuxian’s spirit, but it was still much less accustomed to him than Wei Wuxian’s previous body and therefore was much more susceptible to silly things. Like runny noses and never-ending headaches. Apparently Mo Xuanyu didn’t overwork his brain in the same way Wei Wuxian did. Who would’ve guessed?

With the wave of Lan Wangji’s hand, the little bit of light that shined through the paper windows was gone and they were engulfed in darkness. It lessened the pressure on his temples just enough to be thankful even more.

“Is this medicinal?” Wei Wuxian asked softly. Lan Wangji hummed his confirmation. “Ah, we should talk to Wen Ning and see if he remembered the tea Wen Qing would make me whenever I wouldn’t let her stick me with needles. It always worked for whatever was messing with me.”

“I will,” Lan Wangji said softly, voice low and careful as to not make it worse.

Wei Wuxian drank the tea as fast as his body would allow before he put the cup back in Lan Wangji’s hands and tipped forward. His head rested against the soft, expensive fabric that all the Lans wore and it just made him want to pull him into bed and trap him there for hours. Well, most things about him made him want to do that.

“Can Er-gege stay in today? Sleep sounds so nice.”

“I cannot,” Lan Wangji said softly, his arm wrapping around him and his warm hand pressing to his lower back. Wei Wuxian whined quietly, as much as his headache would allow.

“You’re Chief Cultivator, no one can tell you what to do,” Wei Wuxian said. Lan Zhan hummed, holding him carefully and closely.

“Senior Wei is the one who has a class to teach,” he said. Wei Wuxian blinked a few times as his thoughts shifted back into focus. Sometimes it was too easy to forget how good things had become. He had a husband, he had a garden, he got to teach cute little Lans about using their heads instead of just reciting rules.

All of which he loved, but a whine still found its way out into the world as he thought about having to teach when even the shielded sun of the Cloud Recesses hurt him.

“Lan Zhan, who let me have responsibilities?”

Lan Wangji breathed in slowly, head bowing to rest against Wei Wuxian’s shoulder. He sat there for a moment and, truthfully, for a moment he thought he might’ve convinced him to spend all day in bed.

“Er-gege,” Wei Wuxian breathed, sliding his hand beneath his hair to touch the nape of his neck. Lan Wangji seemed to rest a little more weight on Wei Wuxian which was admittedly out of character. He turned his head a bit to look at him, squinting in the darkness to get a better look at his face, headache be damned. He looked fine, if only just laying against Wei Wuxian. “Ah, Lan Zhan, I see. You do want to stay in bed.”

There was a long stretch of silence before a low grunt of agreement. Wei Wuxian smiled and scratched at where his hair met his neck.

“I can’t, you see,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to Lan Wangji’s clothed shoulder, “This humble one has a class to teach.”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said. He slowly pulled himself into a sitting position and Wei Wuxian felt warmed at how much he’d been able to wear him down even if they did have to get up.

Still, they sat long enough for Lan Wangji to pass him some spiritual energy to help him power through his headache and then he was pulled to his feet.

“Ready, Wei-qianbei?”

“As ever. Give it a try.”

Wei Wuxian leaned back on his palms as he watched Lan Jingyi focus very hard to activate the talisman he’d invented. Their assignment for the week was to create a new spell or talisman of some sort inspired by the word ‘alarm’. He shouldn’t have been surprised when a piercing noise wailed through the room in one short burst before the talisman disintegrated. Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but laugh at the hoard of Lans all covering their ears with wide, annoyed eyes turned to Jingyi who sat with red cheeks as if that wasn’t what he intended. They all knew it was.

“Perfect! That’ll startle anything,” Wei Wuxian praised, leaning forward to scribble notes for grading later. Jingyi smiled, any embarrassment gone away to make room for pride as he went to sit back beside Sizhui.

It’d taken awhile to get Lan Qiren to let him teach for real. Weeks of having him shadow every single thing Wei Wuxian did around the littlest juniors, constant grunts of disapproval, a whole separate sheet for grading Wei Wuxian that he would bring to his attention over tea every evening. But, honestly, he didn’t mind it too much. After everything, it felt somewhat normal. Besides, he was sure Lan Qiren liked him a bit more by the time he willingly handed over a few classes.

Convincing him of this class specifically, though, was a bit tougher and had to be discussed with all of the Lan Elders in a very formal meeting that required Wei Wuxian to break out his single set of white robes. They’d waited until Lan Wangji was off on a night hunt, getting rid of his unrelentingly protective gaze before bringing Wei Wuxian in to discuss giving the older disciples lessons on creating new things so they’d be better equipped to come up with something if they ever got stuck‒or at least that’s how he sold it. The minimum age they’d agreed on was the group that were done with all other sit-down classes and tended to be the main ones going on night hunts which was fair enough. It meant he got to spend more time with Lan Sizhui and he’d never complain about that.

“Alright, who’s next?”

Before anyone could even respond, the doors to the lanshi burst open. Lan Wangji stood in the doorway, tall and regal and intimidating and every bit Hanguang-Jun. Wei Wuxian felt his heart flutter childishly in his chest as if that wasn’t his husband. Husband. Ah, wasn’t that incredible?

The juniors’ eyes followed Lan Wangji as he basically glided down the walkway. Wei Wuxian smiled as he came near despite the rigid set to his features. He knew he had some important‒which typically translated to annoying‒business today.

“Have you come to learn on your break, Hanguang-Jun?” Wei Wuxian teased. Somehow, though, the crease between his eyebrows deepened and worry pricked at Wei Wuxian. Was he angry with him for some reason?

Lan Wangji walked up to the teacher’s platform and to the side of his desk before kneeling on the ground. Wei Wuxian’s eyes widened as Lan Wangji bowed his head into his lap before adjusting himself. And there he was, the great Hanguang-Jun, laying on the floor with his face buried in his husband’s stomach and his arms wrapped around his torso. Wei Wuxian wondered if Lan Wangji could feel how hard his heart was beating.

Considering this was rather unprecedented, Wei Wuxian dumbly looked up at the juniors to guard their reactions. All of them with one exception were looking anywhere in the room other than the scene on the platform. Wei Wuxian locked eyes with Lan Sizhui‒who, for once, didn’t seem too flustered by such a bold display‒and watched as he gave a curt little nod. He wasn’t sure what he was nodding about, but he assumed it was a subtle way of saying to just let it happen. As if he needed approval to do that.

“Ah, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian said softly, resting his hand on his husband’s cheek. He used his thumb to smooth out his already perfect eyebrows and couldn’t help his smile as Lan Wangji visibly relaxed a little. His eyes stayed closed and he looked every bit like the jade everyone said he was. “Alright. Sleep well.”

Wei Wuxian looked back up, his hands sliding to cradle the back of Lan Wangji’s head against his stomach.

“Anyone got a quieter one to try next?”

Lan Wangji stayed put for the entire length of his break before silently getting up and walking back out.

His class was nearly over at this point, but it was clear everyone had questions that he couldn’t answer. Their Hanguang-Jun had definitely changed and gotten more bold since Wei Wuxian came to live in the Cloud Recesses, but not like that. That was… Well, there was something wrong, to say the least. Even if it was sweet to just have him lay there for at least four incense sticks worth of time. He would have to ask him once they got back to the jingshi.

“You all did great today. For next week, how about something inspired by the word ‘heat’,” Wei Wuxian said.

“Wei-qianbei, don’t we already have at least a few different existing talismans for that?” Lan Huizhong asked. He grinned as he pushed himself to his feet.

“Looks like you’ll have to think quite hard to come up with something, hm?” he said. Lan Huizhong smiled just a little bit‒no excessive smiling and all‒and bowed.

Wei Wuxian gathered his things and started to walk out of the lanshi. He was going to drop these off at the jingshi and then he planned to slip in on one of Lan Xichen’s sword forms classes. He did that relatively often and could feel the way that was slowly but surely helping to build Mo Xuanyu’s core. If he played it off like he was just there because he was bored, no one needed to call him out on it.

“Wei-qianbei, may this disciple speak with you for a moment?” Lan Sizhui called. Wei Wuxian grinned as he spun to see him, though stopped himself from teasing him about the formal way he called him when he saw the serious set of his features. It seemed everyone was very serious today.

“You don’t even need to ask,” he said. Lan Sizhui looked around to make sure they were alone and still took a step closer. He was breaking some rule, Wei Wuxian thought‒impropriety, personal space, secrecy, something. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s Hanguang-Jun,” he said softly. Wei Wuxian was very interested at this point and stepped even closer. “He is… melancholy.”

Wei Wuxian searched his face as he slowly repeated, “Melancholy?”

That didn’t sound right. Lan Wangji had made him tea this morning and shared his spiritual energy. Lan Wangji had smiled when Wei Wuxian had braided his hair the night before and had smiled before he bedded him. Lan Wangji had shared a bath with him, had washed his hair, had done many, many things for him as he did every day. That didn’t seem melancholy.

“Forgive this disciple’s forwardness,” Sizhui said, though he didn’t sound like he was sorry. He sounded, Wei Wuxian thought with untimely fondness, like the man who raised him. “This humble one does not mean to insinuate that Wei-qianbei does not know his husband well. Wei-qianbei is attentive and thoughtful, that is obvious. But… Xian-gege, for all that you may know him and see him and spend time with him, I know him better than anyone.”

Wei Wuxian couldn’t even be hurt by that statement. It was the truth that Lan Sizhui had probably spent more time with Lan Wangji than anyone else in the world, perhaps even rivalling Zewu-Jun at this point. Lan Wangji had admitted in the dark of one night that he’d spent many years paranoid that people would find out his A-Yuan was a Wen and that they’d go after him, so he kept him out of the dormitories until he was nearly fourteen and even then made a point to watch over him as often as he could just in case. Of course he knew him well.

“He’s always been… sad, I suppose, but some days are worse than others. Sometimes he can seem happy and other days it’s…” Lan Sizhui trailed off, looking to the side and swallowing. Wei Wuxian’s stomach twisted in his gut. “He’s been very well since you got back, but today is one of those… other days. Zewu-Jun and I handled it in the past, but now it’s sort of your duty as his husband, isn’t it?”

“Yes, A-Yuan, I think it is,” Wei Wuxian agreed. Sizhui’s shoulders relaxed a bit and that familiar smile found his lips.

“If you need help, just ask. It isn’t something you can fix completely, it’s more of making sure he doesn’t feel worse and alone. I think he’d appreciate your company. He did come to you,” Lan Sizhui said. Wei Wuxian nodded and tried to smile through the guilt in his stomach. How blind he’d been to his husband’s feelings.

“He did. I’ll do my best, thank you,” Wei Wuxian said.

“Xian-gege,” Sizhui said before he could walk too far away, reaching out to grab his arm, “It really isn’t your fault, it’s no one’s fault. It just… is.”

“It is a bit my fault,” Wei Wuxian suggested, laughing softly to try to make the guilt sound less, well, guilty, “I didn’t see it before.”

“How could you see something you weren’t looking for, though?” Lan Sizhui said, “And, really, he has been much happier since you came back.”

“Thank you,” Wei Wuxian said, trying his best to get rid of the guilt. There was no place for that when he needed to just take care of his husband in the way he took care of him. “We’ll have tea tomorrow, all three of us.”

Lan Sizhui smiled and nodded, “I’d like that.”

Wei Wuxian had to convince himself to not skip Zewu-Jun’s sword forms class. Lan Wangji still had meetings and Wei Wuxian would be helping no one by pacing around the jingshi for hours. Besides, he would still need his strength, wouldn’t he?

His mind, however, wasn’t all there as he thought about Lan Wangji and started dissecting every moment to see what he’d missed. This morning when it took him longer than usual to get out of bed, was that a sign and something he would need to look for? That distraction, however, led to a small, eight year old Lan accidentally nicking Wei Wuxian’s cheek with his sword. It wasn’t even enough to bleed, but Young Lans crying in guilt was not a part of the agenda and class ended early.

That left Wei Wuxian to go back to the jingshi and wait for Lan Wangji to be done for the day so he could do his best to make up for all the times he’d had Lan Wangji coddle him when he was the one who needed to be coddled. He prepared a bath, talismans on it to keep it warm, and stripped to nothing but his underrobe. After letting his hair down entirely, Wei Wuxian decided to meditate. He hated it, but it passed the time while also helping his core, so he settled in.

It was easy to slip out of it the moment Lan Wangji walked in, eyes visibly tired and shoulders rigid. Wei Wuxian rose to his feet and met him near the door, conjuring an easy grin.

“Ah, Lan Zhan,” he said softly, reaching up to hold his face in his hands. Wei Wuxian didn’t even need to pull him down, Lan Wangji’s body moved towards him as he wrapped him up into a hug. He had to stand on his toes, but he didn’t mind. “Your husband already drew you a bath. Come, let me bathe you, hm?”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji hummed. Wei Wuxian smiled and left a kiss on his shoulder before beginning to tug him behind the privacy screen.

Wei Wuxian reached up to remove his forehead ribbon first and folded it neatly to get it out of the way. His hands worked to strip him of his layers and it was hard not to see how much he was putting in to seem like he wasn’t struggling. That crease between his brow, the way his entire body was full of tension, the way he looked exhausted. How hadn’t he noticed before?

“My Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian breathed, leaving a soft kiss to his chest as he rid him of his last layer, “My love.”

He got rid of his own last layer and got in the bath first before ushering him in. Lan Wangji got in without even one playful look and laid against Wei Wuxian’s chest without any convincing. He sunk into the water up to his chin, his knees poking above the surface in response. Wei Wuxian didn’t know what else to do other than wrap his arms around him and bathe him slowly.

He thought of Sizhui’s words, how there wasn’t anything to actually do. Just make sure he didn’t feel worse or alone. Though Wei Wuxian could remember‒albeit faintly‒times when he’d felt very lonely despite being surrounded by people. He wasn’t sure his presence alone would be helpful.

“Let me hold you tonight,” Wei Wuxian told him, rubbing his hands over his chest, “Is that something you would like?”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji hummed. Not even a ‘whatever Wei Ying likes’. Wei Wuxian raked his fingers through his hair.

Wei Wuxian worked at his body slowly. He didn’t have much spiritual energy to give him, but he tried his best to make up for it in rubbing at all the tense spots and paying extra attention to places Wei Wuxian knew he liked to be touched. The back of his neck, his arms, his hands, things that felt present.

They eventually decided to get out of the bath and move to bed. Lan Wangji seemed to be moving in slow motion as he got out of the bath. Wei Wuxian didn’t bother with drying him off with a cloth, instead making a talisman to dry them both.

“Did you eat anything, Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian asked as they both got dressed in night robes. Lan Wangji made a noise that translated to no. “Should I go get something from the kitchens?” Another ‘no’ noise. “Lan Wangji, you have to eat something.”

Then there were no noises.

Wei Wuxian looked over to his husband to see him staring at him, all that tension he’d tried to get out of his body filling him right back up like it’d never left. It seemed he’d done something wrong. Or, perhaps he’d always been doing something wrong if simply being an attentive husband set off alarm bells in Lan Wangji’s mind.

“Ah, Lan Zhan, what are you staring at?” Wei Wuxian asked, hoping to play it off as he sat in bed, “Am I not allowed to be responsible for once?”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said and maybe Wei Wuxian was being a little bit more obvious than he thought.

With a sigh, Wei Wuxian patted the bed and Lan Wangji climbed in beside him. Wei Wuxian led his head to his chest and held him there for a moment while he thought of a way to say what he was thinking and not be insulting.

“Sizhui and I had a talk today,” Wei Wuxian told him, running his fingers through his hair slowly, “And he said that you were sad. He said that you were always sad. What kind of husband have I been if I haven’t noticed, ah?”

Lan Wangji had gone tense again, but he didn’t try to pull away. His fingers slipped over Wei Wuxian’s collarbone, careful as silk.

“Does it bother you?” Lan Wangji asked carefully. Wei Wuxian made a hurt noise, trying to keep the situation as light as he could.

“Aiya, Hanguang-Jun, how could you accuse me of such a thing? As if anything about you could bother me!” Wei Wuxian said, reaching out with his other arm to grab his thigh. He pulled Lan Wangji until he was all but cradled in his lap like a baby, regardless of how much bigger than Wei Wuxian he actually was.

“Wei Ying…”

“No,” Wei Wuxian said, sighing as he allowed himself to be a little serious. He rubbed his thumb in small circles against his husband’s thigh, still keeping him in his arms, “No, it doesn’t bother me. I… Obviously it isn’t the same, but I do understand the constant of it, I guess. Shijie was, for as long as I can remember, nearly always ill, some days worse than others. The way Sizhui explained it made it seem like that’s how it is for you, only… melancholy.”

“There is nothing left to mourn that is more powerful than Wei Ying breathing,” Lan Wangji said slowly, hesitantly, “And yet I still… It seems I forgot it was this way since the beginning.”

“Ah, Lan Zhan, don’t let that make you worse, alright? I understand, I do! There is nothing worse than feeling bad when you have every reason to be happy, I understand,” Wei Ying said, trying his damnedest not to crawl out of his skin while saying that aloud. But Lan Zhan needed it. He was meant to make him feel less lonely, wasn’t he? “I do apologize for being so needy this morning. I didn’t realize.”

Lan Wangji shook his head. “No apologies.”

“Yes, but‒”

“Wei Ying will have whatever he desires.”

“Ah, Lan Zhan, don’t say things like that, I might take advantage,” Wei Wuxian said warmly, nuzzling his nose into the top of his head, “But, truly, it’s alright. I’m here and I plan to annoy you for the rest of this life and probably a few more, so of course it doesn’t bother me. You may have to tell me sometimes if I don’t notice right away, but I will never mind it. I get to cuddle you during class and everything. Do you know what I would’ve done in my first life if you cuddled me in class? I would’ve fainted!”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji hummed. But his eyes had closed and he let his body relax a bit more in Wei Wuxian’s grip.

Wei Wuxian smiled and traced his jaw with his thumb, pulling his legs a bit closer so he could cover him up with a blanket. If this is how bad days ended for the rest of their life, he wouldn’t mind.

“My cute little Hanguang-Jun, so small,” Wei Wuxian cooed, kissing the side of his face as he tucked the blanket around him. A smile pulled at Lan Wangji’s lips and although it didn’t stay, it still was worth everything. “Ah, you like that? Should I baby you more, my love? My A-Zhan, hm?”

It was easy to just hold him and cover him in kisses and cuddles without any expectation for him to say anything back or even smle if he didn’t want to. Wei Wuxian held him until he fell asleep and then held him a bit longer before he eventually had to slowly get up and find something to eat. There were some loquats in a bowl that were there for any late night snacking on Wei Wuxian’s part or just if he forgot to eat in the first place, so he sat and ate a few while staring where Lan Wangji laid the entire time. It wasn’t until he crawled back into bed that Wei Wuxian realized he no longer felt guilty.

It simply was and would be and Wei Wuxian was more than willing to take it in stride.

#mdzsnet #wangxian #wangxian fic #lan wangji #wei wuxian #the untamed #mdzs #my fic #actor/character birthday fic

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gh0stfacesho3 · 4 years

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could i get a medieval AU where Mirio Togata is a highly respected knight who falls in love with a poor and neglected prostitute who was forced to become a sex worker to care of her 2 younger brothers? you can decide how they meet and put whatever details. Also pls add smut at the end!^^

Ouuuuuuu wow I love this ☺️ thank you so much for this I love the variety of characters I’m getting !!! Also I made Eri the princess that Mirio protects for this plot bc it just makes sense.

Shining Armor

Pairing: Mirio Togata x (F)Reader

Warnings: +18, smut, praise kink

Word Count: +5.7k words

Mirio stood closely to the princess, watching guard as she looked at a street market, amazed by all the crystals and rocks that were on the table.

“Sir Mirio, may I get this one?” The young Princess asked as she tugged at Mirio’s finger, pointing to a crystal necklace. He turned his attention to her and smiled.

“Of course, Princess! You can have anything you’d like, and I told you that you can just call me Mirio.” The knight chuckled as he pulled some gold coins from his satchel.

“The Princess can take it free of charge!” The old women said, handing the necklace to Eri who refused it.

“She won’t take it unless it’s paid for.” Mirio smiled, handing her extra coins. “For your generousity, I’ll pay you extra.” The blond smiled, taking the necklace and placing it around Eri’s neck. She did a spin and smiled, making the old lady tear up.

“I’m so glad we have such a beautiful and cheerful princess in our kingdom now.” Another old witch popped in, holding a staff to keep herself up.

Mirio nodded, remembering the day he helped save her. That is exactly how he became so respected, being he risked his life to save this princess from a very evil dragon king. This kingdom was accepting of all nature and races. You could be a witch, troll, giant, dwarf, half human and half of anything else and you’d still be excepted with open arms into the Ultra Kingdom. So, when Mirio was almost killed by the dragon king, he was able to strike the last blow, pushing his sword through the eye of the dragon king. Thanks to all the witches in Ultra, he was able to be saved and have all his injuries healed for the most part. Being his injuries were very sever, they took Mirio off the front lines and now have him as the sole protector of the new princess.

“Mirio!! Look, they have sweets!” Eri said, dragging Mirio towards another booth. It’s been about three month’s since he saved Eri, and it always made him tear up to see her so happy now.

“Sir Knight Mirio! Please take these pastries! You’ve fought so hard for us and protect our sunshine! We don’t know what we would do without you and Princess Eri.” The baker said kneeling down, holding a basket for him.

“Why than-” Mirio started to take the basket but was stopped by Eri. She put a stack of gold coins on the table before nodding with a smile.

“I wanted snacks anyways!” The young one said with a smile before skipping off. He grabbed the basket and thanked the man before quickly going after Eri. Mirio noticed she was playing around with two boys close to her age.

“Hi! I’m Knight Axel Y/L/N! I shall protect you princess!” The youngest of the two boys yelled, holding out a stick to the air. Mirio watched with a grin as the three made a scene in the street.

“Not for long! I am an evil knight from the All for One Kingdom! I will take the princess for my kingdom!” The oldest yelled as he held a stick that had blue paint on it. This was one of the knight’s named Dabi from the All for One Kingdom which was known for their harsh ways but after the attack to the dragon king, they’ve been a lot more friendly to Ultra Kingdom. Also, recently a new rule was added where to not talk about what happened with her. Eri loved playing with kids but some kids would re-create the scene saying they were the dragon king but it sparked such bad memories for her that it’s a rule for them to not speak of it.

“Knight Axel! Protect me from that nasty knight!” Eri yelled as she stuck her tongue out at the boy. The two boys stared fighting with their sword’s and Mirio was very shocked to see that they both fought very well with their fake swords. Mirio walked over to the two and clapped when he saw the youngest push the oldest to the ground and held his fake sword to his throat.

“Very good form you two!” Mirio said with a smiled, making the two boys stand to attention before they bowed. Eri quickly found her way back to Mirio’s side, sneaking around in the basket’s of goodies before handing them to the boys who smiled brightly.

“There you are! Hey! You two didn’t steal these did you?” You asked as you walked over to your younger brothers.

“No! Princess gave them to us!” Axel said as he held it tight to his chest.

“Princess?”You asked as you looked at the little girl. You quickly knelt down and bowed your head.

“I’m sorry if these knuckle heads I call my brothers bothered you, Princess.” You apologized with a smile and a chuckle. She shook her head and smiled back.

“Nope! We were just playing. Can we play more often please please please!!” Eri begged Mirio, tugging on his arm, making his armor clink and rattle.

“If that is okay with you miss?” He asked, making you look up at him. Once you made eye contact you almost gasped being it was Knight Mirio. You’ve heard of his adventures but what’s more commonly talked about with females is his looks. God, where the rumors true. You bowed your head again before getting up and holding your thin cloak over your body.

“I don’t know. I’d love for them to but I wouldn’t want the Princess to get dirty or see where we live. We aren’t well off.” You spoke to him once you stood up, careful for Eri not to hear.

“Eri doesn’t judge! She just want’s play mates.” Mirio giggled before his eyes met yours. “If its a privacy reason, they can always come to the castle. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her bond so well with any other kids.” He said looking at the three who were playing again.

“I truly appreciate that offer, but they don’t have any other clothes besides their sleep wear, and my work won’t let me travel with them to the castle. We live on the outskirts.” You shamefully admitted. The outskirts of Ultra Kingdom was were low poverty homes were, if homes is what you could call them. The outskirts had a lot of crime in the area. Mirio could see the pain in your eyes and the stress was weighing on you. No one has ever told Eri about the outskirts since the King believed a princess shouldn’t know about such things being she went through so much already. Mirio knew that if Eri knew, she’d run the castle broke trying to help everyone

“I’m sorry, we must get going.” You quickly turned to leave but were stopped to see the three kids in front of you.

“Can we play longer, ma’am?” The princess asked with pleading eyes.

“I’m so sorry princess, but we have to leave.” You apologized, quickly grabbing your brother’s hands and starting to walk off.

“Wait!” Eri yelled before running over to you. You stopped when she pulled on your cloak. Her action caused it to slip off, exposing your very low cut red dress that was accentuated with a black corset that pushed up your bust. There were gasps heard and murmurs about what they have just seen.

“Is she a-” “She must be-” “Outskirts?” “Prostitute?” “Whore-” Could be picked out of the crowd. You quickly pulled your cloak back on, flustered at what just happened. Most women wore neutral color but never colors like red or black.

“I’m sorry about you’re cloak! But I want you to have this so it’ll give me a reason to see you all again!” Eri smiled, completely un-phased by what happened. Your eyes welled with tears as you held the crystal necklace. You slipped it over your head before you nodded and ran off.

“Let’s go princess.” Mirio said as he picked her up, watching your form get smaller and smaller in the distance.

“What’s a whore?” Eri asked as Mirio walked.

“I’ll explain later, just rest.” Mirio hushes, holding Eri close to him as she slowly fell asleep as he walked.

“So she’s a prostitute. That’s why she’s scared of her little brothers playing with Eri. She doesn’t want them to talk about her or the outskirts with Eri while she is gone.” Mirio talked to himself in his chambers as he removed his knight armor.

“Come on, eat up.” You huffed as you fed your younger brothers some bread and very watered down soup.

“But it’s so bland.” Axel whined as he still ate.

“Shut up! Y/n works hard for this!” The oldest fussed, making you scowl at him but smiled because he knew just how hard you work.

“Adrian, mouth.” You huffed before walking over to the table to join them.

Adrain was about 11 so he kinda knew everything being you had to grow up quick if you lived in the outskirts. He was also your shoulder to cry on when you got stressed. You always apologized because no child should have to deal with this. Axel was 8 and you were 26. Your mother had you very young because she was also a prostitute but it was a meet up that went wrong. She then had another child with her first husband 15 years later when she turned 31. Then with her second husband she had her third child at 34. She died last year by taking her own life. You knew it would happen one day but never so soon but you were also surprised she held out that long after everything. You assumed it was also due to the sickness she had around the time.

“Alright Adrian, I’m going to work. Take care of our little brother okay. And remember if I don’t come back or if someone else tries to come here, you know where to go.” You told him, earning a nod from the boy. You looked at Axel to see him asleep on the cot with a wool blanket over him.

Mirio got dressed into some darker clothing along with a dark green cloak. Eri was protected by two other guards at night so Mirio could rest. However, tonight he was on a search, a search for you. He headed out, saying he was just going for a late night walk.

He hopped on top his horse before riding off down to the outskirts. He stopped about a mile out and tied his horse to a pole. Mirio walked into the outskirts and kept his head down, knowing he’d attract a lot of attention if he was seen. The blonde looked around a few dark allies before he finally found someone who looked like you. He walked over to what he thought was you and tapped your shoulder.

“You looking for a fun night boy?” The woman said but when she turned around, it was a goblin woman who just had similar hair like you.

“Oh- sorry, wrong person.” Mirio mumbled before walking down another ally.

“Look, I said I won’t do it! I do business only at the customer’s house, not mine so buzz of!” You huffed as a scraggly old man kept grabbing at your exposed skin, making you walk a little faster to get to the cabin where a lot of prostitutes go to escape creepy men.

Mirio could hear you familiar voice and quickly followed it before seeing the situation. He walked over to the man and quickly grabbed his wrist that was reaching for your ass.

“She said buzz off, now why don’t you listen to her, hm?” Mirio asked, only exposing his sarcastic smile, making the man buck up.

“Who do you think you are, son?!” The old man yelled, making Mirio move his cloak to expose his sword that hung from his belt. “Well, looks like I’ve made a mistake. My bad sir.” The man wobbled away, cursing at the ground.

“Thank you but I don’t need protection from another cre-” You were cut off when he exposed his face to you with a big smile.

“Hey, I never caught your name.” Mirio smiled but you only turned away and started to walk to the cabin.

“I don’t do friendships. Get out of here before you get robbed.” You said with a huff.

“I’m here on business!” He made up, walking in front of you. He held a stack of gold coins. “How long will this get me?”

“One hour. Let’s go. Keep your head down.” You snatched the coins and put them in small black satchel you had connected to your dress. This amount would actually get someone about three hours. You didn’t even want to take it being he is royal and your not but you knew he’d just be persistent. The two of you got to a private room and you began to take off your corset.

“AHh! NO no, I just wanna talk to you!” Mirio said, blushing brightly as he covered his face.

“Talk? Fine, make it quick I guess. And its y/n” You said as you continued to take off your corset anyways. Mirio removed his sword and place it against the wall.

“What are you doing?” He asked as you sat on the bed in just your dress.

“Getting comfortable, what do you think?” You asked with a small chuckle at how soft Mirio looked. “So what did you want to talk about?” You asked as you admired his built body that sat cross-legged on the bed.

“I want you to know that Eri really wants to play with you brothers. We wouldn’t mind housing you and your siblings.” Mirio started but you cut him off quickly.

“I don’t want your charity. I understand you’re trying to be nice and all, but it isn’t fair to all the other women working like me. Why should I get housing while they still struggle?” You questioned, pulling at a small thread on your red dress.

“Well-…” Damn, Mirio was stuck because you did have a point. He needed a way to make this seem fair. “What if we did it like we had a big play date with the kingdom and whoever Eri likes to play with the most gets to spend a week at the castle. So that way its just a way for you too take a break and have your siblings live like royalty.” Mirio explained with a bright smile.

“If we win.” You said as you fiddled with the necklace Eri gave you. “But fine, as long as its putting us on the same level and don’t be biased!” You warned before getting up and dressed back into your corset.

“Why are you getting dressed? We still have about 40 minutes left.” Mirio said standing up

“Help me with this please.” You said before answering his question. “I also have to work and you need to get back to the kingdom to rest and bring together this big idea. No need for me to waste your time Sir Knight Mirio.” You explained as he gently pulled on the strings to tighten your corset. “Ngh-harder. Pull the strings harder.” You huffed as the corset was tight around your chest but the way you asked kinda sounded lewd, making Mirio slightly aroused. He quickly pulled the strings tight and tied them before grabbing his sword and walking out.

You were slightly confused at how quiet he got but just shrugged it off before walking out the cabin slightly after.

After a few days, all you could hear was the buzz about a big play date with the princess. It ended up being more like a whole festival and your two younger brothers could not stop talking about it.

“Pleaseeee!! Please big sis! I promise I’ll never complain about the food again!” Axel begged making you chuckle.

“Well, I just might have to bring you then.” You joked as you picked him up on your back, having him hold on tight as you made some lunches for tomorrow, wrapping some bread and meat in some paper leaves. You cut some fruit up and poured lemon juice on it with sugar. You were glad to have these things due to the Knight visiting you every day and providing you with some money even though you tried to deny his offer.

“You aren’t going to work tonight y/n?” Adrien asked as it was past 10 at night. You shook your head and smiled.

“Tomorrow is a big day for you two and I have to make sure you are ready in time.” You placed Axel in his cot, covering him with the wool blanket before you kissed his forehead. You sat at the table, cutting some fabric and sewing it together. You stayed up most of the night, making two shirts for your brothers. You were able to buy some pants for them and the shoes they had were still knew. You woke up to Adrien moving some pans to the stove.

“Hey, what you doing?” You asked as you turned around to see him cooking some eggs.

“A very shy man in nice clothes was knocking at the door to give these to us, he might still be there.” Adrien said as if it was nothing making you run out to see the royal clothing slightly fade to the distance. You shook your head before you returned inside.

“That shy man was Knight Amajiki. He fought alongside Knight Mirio.”You said in a calm voice, waiting for his reaction and what you got was not what you expected. He face palmed himself and looked down.

“How could I forget, Axel will never leave me alone about this once he finds out.” He said before he continued to make breakfast. You laughed before you went get the youngest.

The three of you all got ready in your new clothes and you wore your mother’s plain white dress and blue corset that had a matching cloak. The three of you began your journey to the kingdom, picking up a ride or two from a few people. You walked with your basket held at your elbow, holding Axel’s hand as Aidren held onto your cloak.

You smiled brightly as you walked to the castle, waiting at the gate before being let in. You saw a lot of children and got slightly discouraged at all the kids playing in the grass. What if Eri find’s someone else to play with and likes them more. That would crush your brother’s spirits to pieces but before you could realize it, they were off playing with a bunch of other kids. You noticed there was an area for people to place their things so you placed your basket and shoes in a crate, locking it before taking the key and placing it around your neck, being it was on a string.

“Hey, you didn’t think you’d be playing without me did you?” You asked as you ran up to your younger brothers. You got a lot of weird looks from other mothers but you didn’t care being you were having fun. The grass was so soft against your feet and you finally felt like a kid for once, even though you were 24. Eri was finally spotted but you didn’t want the boys to rush in, being it would overwhelm her. So you just decided to mess around and pretend to be in danger.

“Knight Axel! Please help me!” You cried out, holding back your smile as much as you could.

“Don’t try it! I am the evil ice witch and will freeze her!” A random girl said as he blew small snow from his palm. It was a little witch and training which made you smile.

“Not if we have anything to do with it” Adrien declaired, holding up a wooden sword that the castle provided. You played for a long time before Eri finally found the three of y’all. You smiled as she hugged you tightly before running to Axeln and Adrien. You stood up and started to walk away before you bumped into a tall figure.

“Oh I’m so sor-sorry.” You said before you saw it was Mirio. His looks always surprised you, especially that smile. “Hello, Sir Knight Mirio.” You curtsied, bowing slightly as well.

“Miss Y/n, pleasure to see you here.” Mirio said as he bowed back. “Now, I think Eri want’s us to play.” Mirio said as he walked over to Eri, pulling you behind him, making you laugh softly.

“Let’s battle! Me and you! If I win, I get to protect Princess Eri!” Adrien said, pointing his wooden sword at Axel. Eri smiled before she pulled out her own wooden sword.

“Who said I can’t protect myself?” Eri asked, making Axel’s eyes light up.

“Can we fight?” Axel asked Mirio, making sure it was okay and nodded.

“Why don’t me and you battle?” You asked Mirio and he chuckled.

“Okay, I’ll go easy on you.” He said wielding a wooden sword as you held one too. The two of you bowed and made sure you had enough room and wouldn’t hurt anyone else. The two of you started to fight and Mirio was quite shocked at your strength and form.

“There is a lot you don’t know about me.” You spoke, as your blocked his sword from swinging down on you. “I always wanted to be a knight when I was young.” You pushed forward, making Mirio back up and take this more seriously. With the two of you so enticed with each other, you hadn’t notice all the kids watching. You were smiling brightly, before you quickly spun around, grabbing Mirio’s outstretched hand, pulling it close to you.

“You’re quite strong, maybe you should live in the castle.” Mirio said with a wink before he hooked his free arm around your waist, spinning you and placing his sword to your throat but was blocked by your own sword. You hooked your leg behind his and kicked it out, but before you knew it, you were spun back around and you fell on top of Mirio. You quickly got up, pointing your sword at his throat before he laughed loudly. You couldn’t help but join him as you laid down next to him, panting softly.

“Wow, it’s nice to be a kid again.” You mumbled, rubbing the beads of sweat from your forehead. Then there was a loud rupture of clapping and cheering from the kids, especially Eri who also defeated Axel. She ran up to you and pulled you up.

“Girls can fight too!” She said with a bright smile, making you laugh before you looked over at Mirio who was watching you. You blushed lightly before averting his gaze. “Hey, the necklace I gave you is glowing!” She said with bright eyes, holding it in her hand. The rose crystal now shined a bright pink, making you cock your head in confusion.

“That’s a love crystal.” The small witch from early spoke, pointing to it as it slowly dimmed. “When you look at someone you love, or feel love from someone, it glows.” She explained, making you blush more.

“Hm, must be because I care and love the princess.” You played off, poking Eri’s tummy, making her giggle.

“It only glows for intimate love.” She shrugged, “But I could be wrong, I’m still learning.” She hopped away and then you were helped to your feet by Mirio.

“That was really fun, and now it’s time for Eri to pick her favorite people to play with.” He explained before walking away with Eri. You and your brothers went eat, talking about all the fun they had.

“Hellllooooo everybodddyyyy!!” Sir Yamada yelled, getting everyone’s attention. “It’s time for Eri to pick who will stay at the castle for a week! Now if you don’t get picked, don’t be discouraged, we will probably have many more to come!”

“I had fun with you all and wish I could pick you all, but those aren’t the rules. I, by myself pick who I want to stay in the castle for a week. And I chose who made me smile the most. But not only did this person make me smile, they made my best friend smile and laugh more than he already does and thats Miss Y/n and her two younger brothers!” Eri yelled out, making you cough softly on the bread you were still eating.

You looked up on the stage and saw Mirio smiling, and saw Eri waving you three up there. A few kids were cheering, saying you need protect Eri since Mirio lost to you. Some kids were crying while others just smiled, knowing they might get it next time.

It was the third day in the castle and you just plopped onto your king sized bed, sighing loudly.

“Hey, finally got your brother’s to bed?” Mirio asked as he stood there in loose clothing, much different from his armor or royal attire.

“Yes! I feel like they never run out of energy and I’m so sore.” You patted the area next to you and Mirio walked over and laid down next to you, watching the heavy door close on its own.

“I’m really glad you got to spend this time here.” Mirio smiled lightly, making you look over at him and smile. Your necklace glowed through your shirt, making you grab it and sit up.

“Yeah… uhm, wellll, I’m going to take a bath to help with my muscles. Can you show me how that large tub works again?” You asked with a small blush before you grabbed some clothes that were provided by the castle. Mirio nodded and walked over to the deep tub that was in your chambers, turning the handle, allowing water to pour out before he put a stopper in the drain.

“That’s pretty much it, do you need anything else?” He asked as you kept your eyes on the floor. He nodded before he walked out and you started to pull of your dress shirt, struggling lightly from your sore muscles. “Oh hey-…I’m so sorry, I should have knocked. I just remembered you needed a towel.” Mirio blushed as you pulled your shirt back down.

“Oh it’s okay…uhm, can you help? If not can you get someone to help me remove my clothes?” You asked as you blushed lightly, making your crystal glow again. He nodded and closed the bathroom’s wooden door before walking behind you.

“Arm’s up.” He spoke softly, lifting your shirt to expose your skin. While Mirio was taken away by your body, he remained calm being you were in a place of need. He pulled down your skirt, allowing you to step out of it, making your face light up. You’ve done similar things countless times but right now, it feels like your first time.

“I’m going to remove your bra and underwear for you if that’s okay?” He asked, making sure he had consent from you before he continued. You nodded, allowing him to remove your clothes and once that was done, he helped you into the bath.

“Wait-…could you stay?” You asked just as he was about to leave, making him pause and turn around.

“Any particular reason or just want a friend?” He asked with a smile while he sat on a stool next to the tub.

“I just think I’ll need some help getting out.” You mumbled,holding your necklace in your hand to keep Mirio from seeing it’s bright pink tint. You knew you could probably get out and dressed on your own but you had to admit, you did like Mirio’s company.

“Oh yeah, I should’ve thought of that.” He chuckled, stretching his arms in the air as he watched you run your hands through your soapy hair. Mirio walked close to your head and started to help rinse out your hair. “We meant it when we said you’d get treated like royalty.”

“Thank you Sir Mirio.” You smiled and relaxed into his touch, making him blush softly before going back to the task at hand. Maybe this stone was right, maybe you did love him but there is no way he’d feel the same so you should just shut out those feelings. “Ow! What the-?” You let go of the necklace that shocked your hand and chest.

“That a love crystal you got, deny the feelings you have and it shocks you.” Mirio chimed in, breaking your train of thought. “You don’t have to worry, I’m sure whoever you’re thinking of feels the same way.” He smiled brightly. After awhile, he helped you out the tub and got you dressed in a loose night gown.

“Thank you for helping me, Sir Mirio.” You blushed lightly as you walked over to you bed and sat down, watching Mirio clean up the bathroom. Mirio walked over to you and smiled before he bent down and kissed your lips, making your necklace glow.

“I’m sorry, but I just had to know this crystal glowed for me.” Mirio blushes before he stood back up straight but you pulled him back down to you.

“I guess my secret is out.” You smiled before reconnecting your lips.

You pulled Mirio closer to you, having him crawl on top and pin you down. His lips were soft but you could feel the small scars he had from it being repeatedly busted from fighting or training. He pulled you on top as he sat up so you can straddle his lap, allowing his hands to travel your foreign body. Mirio’s hands were so gentle when he traced them down you sides, or when they rested behind your neck while he ran his fingers down your spine with his other hand. You tracked your finger down his jaw, pulling away to see his flushed face and red lips.

“You’re cute when you are all red.” You smirked, making the blonde blush even brighter.

“Thank you, y/n.” Mirio mumbled, making you reconnect your lips as you felt down his chest before slipping your hand up his shirt, feeling the defined muscles and small scars from battles. You tugged at his shirt so he could pull it off but he pushed you on your back before he did so.

“Let me take care of you, you are in pain.” He smiled before he lifted your gown up and over your body. You smiled back softly before shutting your eyes in pleasure when you felt his lips kiss down your exposed body.

“Mirio, have you ever done this before?” You asked with a blush as his lips perfectly danced along your skin, getting lower and lower making you catch butterflies.

“Once or twice, why?” He teased with a grin, sucking at your skin on your thighs, leaving hickies behind as he got closer to your clothed core, making your body tremble and arousal pool in your underwear.

“I’ve done this hundreds of times and no one has ever made me feel this good just by kissing me.” You propped yourself up to see him looking up at you with a proud grin.

“Well, I did say I would take care of you.” Mirio kissed your wet core before he pulled off your underwear, making you sigh in relief. He licked up your sopping wet core, making you moan out softly. “You’re so beautiful. Your voice sounds like an angel.” Mirio mumbled, making you blush at his praise. Usually when you had sex, you got degraded mainly because you were a prostitute and they were ashamed so they took it out on you so when you were praised by Mirio, it just fueled your arousal. He connected his mouth with your core, running his tongue down you before sucking on your sensitive clit.

“Am I being good?” You moaned out, arching your back softly. You needed to hear that you were being good and Mirio understood that after you asked him.

“No, you’re being the best.” the blonde smiled before he continued his meal, pushing you closer to the edge with each lick, kiss, or suck while he’d tell you how good you taste and how well you behaved.

“Sir Mirio, I’m close,” you grabbed at the sheets, waiting to feel the familiar knot build and break but he removed himself from your core, licking his lips before he leaned down to kiss you. Your hands tangled themselves in his golden hair, desperate to feel him close to you. You were so lost in the kiss you hadn’t noticed Mirio line himself up with your core.

“Are you ready?” Mirio asked once he pulled away from your lips, allowing you to nod quickly.

“Please, I need you.” You whined out, allowing Mirio to push his hard member into your aching heat. You huffed, pulling Mirio in for another sloppy kiss before you kissed down his neck as he thrust into you.

Mirio groaned softly with a small smile, noticing the necklace glow brightly as it hung next to your head. You kissed along his neck before finding a sensitive spot, making him moan softly before he picked up his pace while you attacked his sweet spot. Mirio held your hips down with one hand while the other rubbed your swollen clit. You bit your lips to suppress your moans, gripping his back tight as your nails dug into his flesh.

“Let me hear those sweet moans, beautiful.” Mirio requested, making you follow his command as you were now a moaning mess.

“Sir...I’m gonna c-...cum.” You blushed brightly as you clung to him for dear life but he only picked up his pace.

“Go ahead, you deserve it.” And with those sweet words, your climax came crashing down, sending you into complete euphoria. Your body trembled as your high took over before you notice Mirio pull out to see his cum spill out over your stomache.

“I’m so sorry.” Mirio blushed, letting his head fall on your shoulder in embarrassment.

“Don’t worry,...” You panted as you came down from your high. You whined when Mirio got up and walked away but was pleased to see him with a rag to clean you up. Once cleaned, the two of you laid down in the dark except for the bright necklace that still glowed a pink tone.

“Stay here in the castle with me.” Mirio said, looking down at your tired form. You don’t know whether it was the exhaustion or euphoric bliss you were in but you nodded without hesitation, before slipping off into sleep.

A/n:

I hope you alll liked it :) I had a lot of fun writing this but it took me forever 😅 mainly bc I procrastinate.

#my hero acadamy #fluff #bnha x reader #writing #reading #headcanon #mirio x reader #mirio smut #bnha mirio #bnha #mha #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #bnha fantasy au #mirio togata

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serotocin38 · 4 years

Text

TL;DWrite: How to Court a Dumb Human Bean

Mobei-Jun/Shang Qinghua

In which Shang Qinghua is kind of in love with Mobei-Jun, and misunderstands everything. You know, the typical situation. But this time, after a run-in with a strange demon girl, he’s also oblivious to the fact that he suddenly becomes incredibly attractive everyone else. And they all want him.

2,420 words, oblivious SQH, slight pining, courting, misunderstandings, harem potential but no harem, only Moshang

High cheekbones – check. Sharp jawline – check. Piercing gaze – check. Broad shoulders – check. Ridiculous height – check. Graceful air – check. Firm and defined muscles – double check. Very powerful – check, check, and check.

Shang Qinghua sighed to himself, shaking his head ever so slightly as he reluctantly drew his gaze away from his king and went back to the pile of paperwork in front of him.

Mobei-Jun stood across the room, glaring at a group of elders who seemed to have finally cornered him and wanted to get their point across while Mobei-Jun was still willing to entertain them.

Shang Qinghua had no doubt it was to pester him about getting married again. Ever since Luo Binghe basically up and abandoned his newfound seat of power like it was the side chick he accidentally got pregnant, Mobei-Jun had taken over full-time, and as a result, Shang Qinghua found himself with a lot more paperwork to get through.

While he worked his way through several stacks a day, Shang Qinghua silently cursed Cucumber Bro for going into seclusion with his demon husband to live the life of domestic bliss while he was stuck with a desk job! And he did not even get paid for this!

The only plus side of the paperwork was that Shang Qinghua was situated across from Mobei-Jun most of the day, and he could sneak as many glances as his heart desires. And if Mobei-Jun caught him in the act, Shang Qinghua only had to tap his brush against his chin like he was thinking hard.

Take that, Cucumber Bro. You aren’t the only brilliant actor in this world!

“What’s wrong, my king?” Shang Qinghua asked when Mobei-Jun finally stormed away from the elders, and they were alone.

Mobei-Jun sat down on the throne of ice with an angry glower on his face. If it were directed at him, Shang Qinghua would be a blubbering mess of tears begging for his life. He felt a shiver run down his spine.

“Do you want to get married.”

Shang Qinghua blinked, wondering if he mishead. Then, his face flushed bright red. “My- My king? I- This- This servant couldn’t possibly be fit to marry you!”

The glower grew deeper, and now it was definitely directed at Shang Qinghua. “I meant, if you ever plan on getting married to anyone,” Mobei-Jun gritted out slowly.

Shang Qinghua was feeling faint now. Of course that was what Mobei-Jun meant! What the hell was he thinking?! He had obviously been daydreaming way too much!

“This servant wouldn’t dare!” Shang Qinghua squeaked. “My entire life is dedicated to serving my king and no one else!” He wondered if now would be a good time to get on his knees and start blubbering.

Mobei-Jun grunted and turned the glare away. “I don’t have a choice,” he said. “The elders think… that the potential candidates they chose do not interest me.”

Shang Qinghua wiped away his tears and sniffled a few times. “Do they not appeal to my king?”

“…Not interested.”

Shang Qinghua thought about the long list of demon girls from various prestigious bloodlines. “Perhaps my king’s taste is... of another gender?”

Mobei-Jun’s glare turned back to him again.

Shang Qinghua was so dead. He just asked the second most powerful demon in the world if he was gay!

He gulped, his hand trembling and dripping ink all over the page. He quickly set it down and put his hands into his lap to hide them. Mobei-Jun just studied him hard, then looked away again, saying nothing.

…so it was not a ‘no’.

Shang Qinghua cleared his throat. “Should- Should this servant let the elders know? I’m certain that there are many eligible demon males that are fit to be my king’s consort? I- I’ve heard that homosexuality is quite common among demons! I mean, Sha Hualing is-”

“Not. Interested.”

“Eh? But- But my king-” Shang Qinghua was at a loss. He almost threw his hands up in the air and tore at his hair while screaming, “THEN WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU INTO?”

He took a deep breath instead. “Perhaps my king is not interested in anything romantic or, ahem, sexual. In that case-”

“No.”

Shang Qinghua just stared blankly at him. After a few moments of silence, Mobei-Jun stared back at him.

“My king, is there anyone you’ve ever liked before? Anyone at all?”

There was a long silence. “…Yes.”

“Okay! Great!” Shang Qinghua said desperately. “What- What did they look like? Maybe we can find them again, or- or at least find someone fitting those descriptions!”

Mobei-Jun tilted his head to the side a bit, studying Shang Qinghua with narrowed eyes. “Small,” he said slowly. “Helpless. Like a baby bird.”

Shang Qinghua’s mouth opened and closed a few times. “Uh, okay. What- What color was their hair? Their eyes? Male, female? When did you last see them?”

Mobei-Jun’s lips thinned as he continued staring at Shang Qinghua. “I see them every day,” he said slowly.

Shang Qinghua felt his excitement dim slightly. Ah, so it was a current crush. Despite being by his king’s side on a daily basis, Shang Qinghua was not aware of this interest of his.

His smile wavered ever so slightly. “Do- Do they know you… feel this way towards them?”

Mobei-Jun’s eyes narrowed further, boring deep into Shang Qinghua’s soul. “…They’re not very perceptive,” he said gravely.

Despite the dull throbbing of his own heart, Shang Qinghua silently comforted Mobei-Jun. Unrequited love was not a good feeling.

“Then my king just needs to be more bold with his advances!” Shang Qinghua encouraged. “Maybe you just need to tell them you like them!”

Mobei-Jun considered it. “I… like you.”

Shang Qinghua nodded. “Just like that, my king!”

Mobei-Jun’s glare grew deeper. Then, he shook his head. “Doesn’t work.”

Shang Qinghua gave a nervous chuckle. “How would you know if you don’t try, my king? Maybe if you spend more time with them, they’ll eventually catch on.”

“More time?” Mobei-Jun asked under his breath.

“Oh, and helping them out would probably show that you care.”

Mobei-Jun nodded slowly. “I see,” he said. “This… will work?”

Shang Qinghua gave him a weak smile that he hoped was encouraging. “Unless your person is a rock, they’ll certainly realize it.”

“Okay,” Mobei-Jun said. “Then, do you… want me to help-”

“Ah!” Shang Qinghua gasped as an amulet around his neck started growing hot. He quickly pulled it out, the red stone glowing dully in his palm. “This servant is late, my king!” he said. “I need to go pick up your new cloak now!”

He gave a hurried bow before scrambling out of the room, the doors slamming shut behind him.

Mobei-Jun sighed in annoyance. “…He’s a rock.”

~~~

Shang Qinghua was running terribly late. He was supposed to go to a specialty shop to pick up a custom cloak of Mobei-Jun’s.

A few weeks ago, Mobei-Jun had dropped a huge monster in front of his desk, blood still spilling from the fresh wound and staining the furs that served as a carpet in his room.

“This is- This is a Frost Flower Tiger Seal?” Shang Qinghua gawked. “What- What does my king want me to do with it this time?” he asked.

Mobei-Jun had recently taken up the habit of hunting rare demonic monsters with pelts that could sell for a fortune or two. And he never told Shang Qinghua what he wanted him to do with them, except he showed extreme offense to Shang Qinghua’s offer of selling them.

So he had no choice but to take the rare pelts and make them into rugs and coats and scarves.

The Fost Flower Tiger Seal’s slick pelt was extremely soft and completely waterproof. It was naturally a deep blue, with black streaks in it, like a tiger’s fur. So Shang Qinghua sent the pelt to a special clothing shop to have them customize a cloak for Mobei-Jun.

However, on the way, Shang Qinghua ran into a couple of demons who were in the process of dragging a poor human girl out of her hut.

“What a pretty little thing,” one of them leered. “Why don’t you come with us and keep us company?”

“Let me go!” she screamed, kicking and thrashing.

“Hey!” Shang Qinghua shouted, glad he brought his sword. It had been a while since he drew it, and he had never been particularly good at fighting in the first place, and he was definitely rusty. He just hoped the threat would scare away the demons.

The other demon sniggered. “Look, another tiny human,” he said. “Let’s take them both.”

Shang Qinghua swung his sword, the weight throwing him off a little bit. He quickly regained his balance, his heart thumping hard in his chest.

If he called out like last time, would Mobei-Jun show up?

Suddenly, both demons’ eyes were glued to Shang Qinghua’s sword. Then, with a mess of senseless apologies, they dropped the girl and ran off faster than Shang Qinghua could figure out what made them run.

It was only afterwards that Shang Qinghua remembered the tassel tied to the end of his sword with Mobei-Jun’s seal on it. Regardless, he gratefully sheathed his sword and rushed to the girl’s side.

“Hey, you really shouldn’t hang around here alone,” Shang Qinghua said, helping her up with a sigh.

The girl huffed. “I had it covered, you know,” she said. She reached into her sleeve and pulled out three needles, obviously coated with a deadly poison.

“Ah,” Shang Qinghua said.

“Thank you anyway,” she said. She looked him up and down. “What’s a human like you doing in the Demon Realm?”

“I could say the same for you.”

“Not human,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “And I’m a travelling merchant. Anyway, I suppose I should repay you somehow. What do you want?” she asked. “I’ve got strength potions, protection charms, cultivation enhancers.”

She seemed to have found all of Shang Qinghua’s weaknesses with just a glance. Each suggestion felt like a small stab at all his lacking points.

“Heh, no need,” Shang Qinghua said, remembering he was on a tight schedule. “I need to get going.”

The girl tilted her head to the side. “Where are you headed? I have a pill that can prolong your stamina. Most use it for sex purposes, but you can use it to travel too,” she said casually, ignoring the way Shang Qinghua coughed lightly.

“Just west,” he said vaguely. “I really should go.”

Finally, the girl sighed. “Fine, fine. I won’t keep you. Here, take some water, at least. You look like you could use it.”

She disappeared into her hut briefly and came back with a small bottle. “It’s a bottle of Replenishing Water,” she said. “As long as you’re thirsty, it will continue to produce water. And it doesn’t take up much space, so it’s perfect for travel.”

Shang Qinghua glanced at the sun. He took the bottle. “Much thanks,” he said quickly. He left before the girl could try pushing any more of her wares onto him.

The Replenishing Water did seem pretty useful though. Shang Qinghua took several sips from the tiny bottle, but every single time, more cool water poured from it. But if Shang Qinghua just tipped the bottle over dry ground, nothing came out.

He briefly wondered who that girl was exactly. But he did not think on it too much because he managed to catch the store just before closing.

“Wait!” he called as the store owner, an elderly demon lady came out to lock up.

“There you are!” she snapped, shoving the door open again.

Shang Qinghua followed her inside, apologizing over and over again for being so late. She grumbled as she went and grabbed the cloak, all wrapped up and boxed nicely. He reached for the money pouch in his robes when suddenly, the elderly demon lady grabbed his wrist.

“Come here,” she commanded.

“Eh?” Shang Qinghua was pulled downwards roughly. She stared at him with her old eyes. “Is- Is everything alright, Madame?”

Suddenly, the usually sour expression on her face softened. “I’ve never noticed before, but… you look like my late husband!”

“Wh-What? You- You have to be mistaken. Madame, I am merely a human servant for my king! How could I-”

“I’m not mistaken!” she exclaimed. “You look exactly like him!” Suddenly, she rushed forward, and Shang Qinghua stepped back, running out of the shop as quickly as he could. “Husband, come back! Your Gui-er has been waiting for you!”

Shang Qinghua did not look back. He ran for a few miles before he collapsed on the side of the road, absolutely exhausted. The sun had nearly set, and he was still a far way from the palace. He had really hoped he could avoid travelling by sword.

But before anything else, Shang Qinghua spent a few minutes chugging from the bottle of Replenishing Water. He felt much better after sitting for a bit and making sure the demon lady was not chasing him.

By then, it was completely dark and walking was no longer an option.

Still, Shang Qinghua was reluctant about riding his sword. He had not been confident about mounting his sword since rescuing Mobei-Jun and nearly killing both of them with his skills.

“Ah, my king,” Shang Qinghua sighed aloud.

“What is it?”

Shang Qinghua wished he could say he did not scream like a little girl and drop the box holding the new cloak.

“My- My king!” Shang Qinghua gasped, his heart doing a rapid staccato dance in his chest. “What- What are you doing here?”

“You called,” Mobei-Jun said sternly, like it explained everything.

“This- This servant was just heading back.”

“It’s late already,” Mobei-Jun said. He picked up the box and opened it. He took out the Frost Flower Tiger Seal cloak and inspected it.

“Does my king approve?” Shang Qinghua asked nervously.

Mobei-Jun rubbed the thick cloak between his fingers. “It’s good,” he rumbled. Then, he draped the heavy cloak over Shang Qinghua’s shoulders and clasped it in front.

“My- My king?”

“Let’s go,” Mobei-Jun said, pulling him in by his waist and opening a portal.

They reappeared in the throne room, and Mobei-Jun led them into the adjoining room that served as his and Shang Qinghua’s office.

Shang Qinghua started to take off the cloak, but a sharp glare from Mobei-Jun stopped him. He left it on instead.

Liked the idea at first. I just felt it would take a longer than a brief one-shot, so I kinda procrastinated and lost interest. Will I come back to this one? Not likely.

#moshang #mobei jun #shang qinghua #tl;dwrite

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hoaqins-funk-house · 3 years

Text

White

Yandere

Slight AU

Part 1

This floor was lively.

Even so, you had heard all kinds of things about it, most negative.

Frankly, you didn’t care.

All it was was a stepping stone on your path up the tower.

Compared to the civilians you were walking past, you stuck out like a sore thumb, the large weapon strapped to your back making them shuffle past faster, heads down.

Again, you didn’t care.

You had gathered up the information needed to get past this floor before even getting here, learning (albeit briefly; the man telling you it all seemed scared) that it was ruled by an enigmatic man with red facial markings and long, white hair, and that in order to pass the floor, you needed to find seven of something. What that thing was, you didn’t know. Your informant clammed up after that, and you were disappointed to find such a valuable asset as him dead the next morning.

This white-haired man is thorough, that's for sure.

Still… that description. One of your old masters, from when you were still training with various weapons, had the most striking white hair. He didn’t have any red marks, though.

Shaded eyes trace the signs that lined the busy streets, your hat tilted down and your bandana pulled up fully. Your darkly colored, ragged clothes draw attention in the well-lit, colorful street, full of geometric, clean-cut buildings. It didn’t help that you were taller than the general populace, most of them reaching from your chest to your chin. You were only six feet tall.

Looking around, you wonder if you should ask for directions to a hotel. You need to rest after going through the last test, and then you could begin the hunt for the seven items. You also need to figure out what those seven items are.

You spot a small shop on your side of the road, entering and startling the woman at the counter, who seemed to be the owner.

“Excuse me.” You begin, her giving a wobbly smile as she stares up at you. “Do you know where I can find a hotel?”

She nods, bringing out a map and shakily laying it out in front of you. She points out the various hotels, and after your question about recommendations, she points to one close to the center of the city.

“It has relatively low prices, and the rooms are comfortable and pretty spacious.” She tells, swallowing her nervousness.

“I guess I’ll go there, then. Thank you.” You tilt your hat, soon exiting through the hanging bead curtains.

She stares at your back, her eyes on the weapon before raising to your head, which was topped with a strange three-point hat, a feather slicked back.

The moment a Regular enters this floor, a piece of their soul is taken. They shrink, and grow weaker; it had happened to her a hundred or so years ago, and she knew there was no escape for her.

But, for some reason, you’re fully sized.

Her eyes move to the phone on her counter, soon pressing various buttons and bringing it up to her ear.

“Is this the Vicente unit?” She asks, getting confirmation from the hidden voice. “There’s a regular, one who just arrived. They’re fully sized.”

There was a long pause on the other end, the garbled voice coming back right after. “Describe them; do you know where they’re headed?”

“Yes.”

What White was not expecting as he leant on the railing, looking up at the fake, starry sky, was to get an urgent message from the leader of the Vicente unit.

That word- urgent.

Never had it been used since he created his branches and took over this city, nearing 300 years ago.

Humming, he enters the building, taking the time to listen to his subordinate’s explanation. His eyes widen.

Fully sized? The only person who is fully sized is him, though if this report is true, not anymore.

“They’re at Shotstar Hotel, huh? Keep them under surveillance; I need to know their motives. Inform everyone in Vicente and Anna unit about them, and make sure they don’t escape your sight. Get Albeda unit to assign their object as the skull.”

“Of course, sir. I’ll inform them right away.”

“The first representative will be from Anna unit.”

White hangs up right after, looking back out the window at the city that seemed to glow, streets bustling with life- and an anomaly. He would’ve noticed when he consumed a piece of a new soul, but that hadn’t occurred.

This mystery person… how strange.

To escape his soul-scraping, without even noticing it was happening?

They must be extraordinary.

Lying in the bed, on top of the sheets, the only thing you had removed was your shoes, your satchels, and the intricate-looking weapon that now leant against the nightstand to your side. You sigh, arms supporting your head as you tilt your hat down, covering your eyes.

You knew it wasn’t a good idea to remove the items of clothing protecting your identity; your privacy was important to you and the camera hidden in the room's light was easily spotted. You couldn’t take it down, or else you would risk being more in the spotlight than you already were, what with your standoffish appearance and large size in comparison to the people on this floor.

You grab the hilt of the sword as a sudden knock breaks through your thoughts, soon calming as you realize what it is.

Standing up, you walk over to the door, opening it and revealing a pink-haired man, holding a bag. “Sorry to interrupt, but you are a Regular, yes?” You nod in response to his question, watching passively as he holds out the bag. It was somewhat large, looking to be around the size of a cantaloupe.

You take it, him bowing. “That bag has the instructions for this floor’s test. Please read them carefully. There isn’t a time limit on this test, but it’s one of the most challenging in the tower, even for those with exceptional strength.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

He begins to walk away, red eyes gleaming as you close the door, walking back to the bag and opening it. Your eyebrows raise.

A human skull sat inside, missing its jaw with a paper sticking out of its eye.

Humming, you pick it up out of the bag, unfolding the paper to read over it.

‘Your assigned object is the [skull].’ The note reads, a picture of the skull next to it. The last word had clearly been stamped on.

‘This test is similar to a scavenger hunt, where you look for the other six of your assigned item. Each item has its own distinct rules. The entire city is this test’s grounds.’

The next part was handwritten, not just the copy-paste text that filled the intro. ‘The skull is the most difficult of the items to get. Your targets will be wearing a pure white jacket with a red embroidered skull, and in order to receive the other six skulls, you must kill them. The fight will not count unless you or your target calls it. Good luck.’

The note was signed with the name Albeda, also stamped on.

You sigh, placing the skull and note in one of your satchels before turning off the lights and laying down once more. You’d start tomorrow.

Walking the streets, your eyes scrape the blue sky, puffy clouds lazily floating past.

Even with your bandana, you can smell something tasty. You hadn’t eaten anything in a while, so you glance around the street, seeing the small stall that was emitting the attractive scent. Dodging around perturbed civilians, you enter the stall, pushing aside the flaps before they could hit your face. Bells ring, the tassels holding them attached to the corners of the flaps.

“Welcome-oh, hello.” The man working the stall stammers as he sees you, soon calming down as you sit down silently, looking over the menu.

“I’ll have an order of this, and this.” You say, gesturing to the words. The man smiles fakely, nodding.

“Of course, coming right up.”

The few minutes after you had paid were filled with you thinking of a plan. The man hands you your food, you quietly thanking him before pulling down your bandana and beginning to eat.

You glance back as the bells ring, finishing your meal and quickly pulling up your bandana.

The person sits down, leaving a seat empty between you.

Your eyes widen as you look at him, the stall owner greeting him before letting him look at the menu.

You stand, placing a hand on his shoulder, covered in a white jacket.

“Excuse me. I believe you to be my target?”

He turns his head, revealing half-lidded eyes of a striking blue. His black hair was slicked back, and his navy suit was beneath the embroidered jacket.

“Of course. Let me eat first, though. Supportin’ businesses is a major factor in my unit’s work.” He smiles at the stall owner, who seems to realize that he isn’t just a normal patron.

He orders, and you sit back down, placing your head against the booth.

Who would’ve guessed that your first (technically second) item would show up without you even looking?

After a few more minutes of you mulling over whether or not it was a good or bad thing this guy showed up out of nowhere, you lift your head at his satisfied sigh, him smiling at you before placing sunglasses on his crooked nose, clearly having been broken a few times.

“Let’s go to a less populated area; we wouldn't want to hurt the peoples, now would we?”

You hum, following after him as he ducked into alleys and traversed the maze-like paths with ease and confidence.

“Say, that weapon of yours… it’s mighty strange for a fisherman to use something as large and clunky lookin’ as that.”

“It’s a specialty of my family.”

“Do they make or wield ‘em? That ain’t like any weapon I’ve seen before.”

“Both.”

“Such strange weapons ‘ould be the talk of the tower… what’s your family’s name?”

“I won’t tell.”

“Damn, it’s like I’m talkin’ to a wall… have some life, wouldja?” He complains, you shrugging.

“I don’t doubt we’re being listened to. Why would I reveal something like that? I just want to finish this test and continue up the tower.”

He laughs at that as you enter a flat area of concrete, looking like a basketball court without the baskets.

“Y’see, there’s a reason people talk so badly about this floor.” He grins, pointing to the other side of the slab, where you walk to. “No one has left after they entered. They can’t go back to the previous floors because they’re incomplete, and they can’t beat the test because of their weakness.”

“Incomplete?” You ask, him laughing again.

“Well, of course you wouldn’t know. You’re still whole!” His cackles echo a bit, you deciding not to question things further. If you were the only whole one, it meant that you were the only one who could complete the test. Everyone else was trapped, and honestly…

You didn’t care.

“Still, let’s begin, yeah?”

You nod, him grinning wider. “I am Cerro, representative of the Anna unit, also known as the Business unit! You must kill me to claim my skull, and continue your hunt.”

You hum lowly, drawing your blade from its folded, wooden sheath. One foot was in front of the other, toes pointing at Cerro. You watch with cold eyes as he claps his hands. “Let’s begin!”

He bolts forward, faster than you were expecting.

He must be a scout.

He turns on his heel as he whips his arm around, aiming for your face with a short needle. “You’re so damn mysterious!” He shouts, you blocking his attack and waiting to see his next action. As he struggles to slash your face, you drop, sweeping his leg and watching as he flips backwards, landing smoothly.

“Won’t you attack? Come after me!” He prods, throwing the needle with deadly accuracy. You block it, watching as he whips it back by the cord that went from his arm to the bottom of the needle.

He can use short and long range attacks, and is quite fast.

You block a surprise kick to your side with a grunt, continuing to observe the man as he runs around, never letting you see his exact location. The kicks and slashes keep coming, you blocking them all and not moving from your spot until he appears behind you, you turning in time to block the heavy kick, but not without sliding back a meter or so.

“Come on! Attack me!” He shouts, irritated.

You hum, looking up at him with gleaming eyes.

You had spent the time analyzing his pattern, how often he kicks, how often he slashes, how long it takes for him to recover after each failed attack hit your blade and sent shockwaves through his arms and legs.

“Now, I know your pattern.” Pointing the sword at the shocked man, he shakes his head.

“Pattern?! I attack at random, there is no pattern!”

“There is, I can assure you that.”

He growls, running around again, speeding up as he grows more and more irritated.

After a few moments, he leaps into the air, needle aimed at the back of your neck. His wicked grin falls as he watches you slam the hilt of your sword into the folded wooden sheath, spinning around as the sheath unfurls into a full, at least six foot long, grip, fully changing your sword into a scythe. Now facing the man as he rapidly approached you, you slash the scythe, hooking him.

For a brief moment, he thought that he had won, seeing as he was still falling at you, and your blade was behind him.

Soon, his reality hit him.

You twist to the side, bringing the blade along with you.

He was ripped in half with ease, mouth agape as blood poured out of both halves, more of the crimson escaping his jaws. It splatters everywhere, covering the ground and you, much to your annoyance.

He watches as you whip the sheath closed, placing it on your back once more and sheathing your sword.

“How… so easily…”

You shrug. “I spent over 400 years training with different styles. It’s not that you’re weak.”

His sunglasses had fallen off as he watched you wait, looking around.

As you said, it’s not that he was weak, no, he hadn’t lost in the 200 years he had been Anna unit’s representative, but rather that you…

You are strong. Much too strong.

There’s no way someone like you didn’t get chosen earlier on.

His eyes close soon after, feeling his last breath escape him.

You turn to him as he finally slips away, watching as a mark appears on his forehead, the diamond shape soon burning away his skin and muscle, stopping at the neck as his skull rolls to the side. You pick up the skull, leaving the jaw behind and placing it in your satchel, next to the other one.

You stretch.

Five more to go.

White stares at his screen, a desire to fight coursing through him as he watches you walk off.

There were cameras everywhere, and with the Vicente unit’s help, there was no problem in finding you.

He leans back, humming, a wide grin on his face.

Watching you kill one of his stronger men…

It excited him.

He, of course, already knows you will be the source of discourse. First, the soul-scraping doesn't work, and now, how easily one of his higher-ranked men fell. His men were already speaking of you, but now that you’ve killed Cerro?

You would be known across the city.

He grins, watching as your silhouette disappears into the alley. “Ah, mysterious stranger… what an alluring sense of power.”

And, strangely enough, a familiar one.

His eyes trace unrecognizable shapes into the ceiling as he leans back, thinking.

Had he ever been around someone like this new arrival?

He hums, narrowing down his scope.

It would’ve had to be before he was chosen to climb, before he became a regular.

When he was training.

Wait…

When he was training!

He grabs his phone, quickly calling the head of the Vicente unit. “I need you to find out everything you can about this regular. Identify them. The next representative will be from David unit, send her in six hours.”

“Of course.”

He hangs up quickly, standing and walking over to his window, where he exits onto the balcony, an uncontrollable grin on his face as he stares over the lively city, shaking hands gripping the railing as he holds in an excited laugh.

His trainer had many disciples, but the only one who stood out to him was the one he assumed to be you. You were the only one there not of Arie blood, the only one wielding such an unruly-looking weapon. It was different from this scythe however, being a cane that extended and split into sections, used like a bladed whip.

You had been there solely to train, but his interest in you never dwindled. You never looked his way, nor had you ever even acknowledged his (or anyone else’s) presence. You were always so interesting, so aloof, so silent, and so strong.

Now, you were even stronger, even if you had begun to speak more, you were pretty much still the same.

He had always wanted to fight you, and with how the last fight went, he could assume he would be able to, soon enough.

He looks over this city, his city, a sense of both danger and ease clashing through his mind.

There were no rules saying the final boss couldn’t show himself before the battle, and no rules saying he had to disclose his status as a target.

Nothing held him back from finally getting you to see him.

#hoaquin #hoaqin #arie hoaqin #hoaqin tog #hoaqin arie #white #white tog #white x reader #hoaqin x reader #tog #Tower Of God #tower of god x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere tower of god #x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader

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thinkyoureholy · 4 years

Text

Blessed With A Curse [1]

Pairing : Kang Yeosang / [fem] Reader

Genre : Angst, Violence, Language, Fluff, Future Smut, Greek God! AU

Words : 3.4k

Prologue. - Next Chapter.

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

-Y/N’s P. O. V-

I looked around frantically, my eyes looking for anyone I could trust but I found no one. They all looked at me scornfully, as if I was the dirt beneath their shoes. I begged for them to believe me but I could see they had already made up their minds.

“I’m telling you the truth!” I shouted, turning on my heel quickly as I looked at them all, “I can swear to you here and now that nothing happened!”

Athena smirked at me, “And do you really think we’d believe you? We know exactly what kind of personality you have, it comes as no surprise really.”

“Fuck you, Athena. I know you’re just itching to have me thrown out so you can impress daddy with your new tricks,” I snapped, taking a step forward but the second I did lightning stuck the floor inches from my feet.

I looked up at Zeus in shock, “Father...please believe me. I haven’t done anything! You know me! I would never!”

He narrowed his eyes at me, crossing his arms over his chest, “I don’t know you well enough it seems.”

A sharp piercing pain spread across my chest at those words, my eyes glazing over with unshed tears. No, please, you have to believe me! My eyes darted around from one face to the other until landing on her. The moment I met her eyes she looked away, my heart sinking the second she did. I then looked to the man next to her but he did the same, avoiding my gaze.

“Even you two?” I asked, my voice strained as I tried to keep it from breaking.

“It’s just-“

“We saw you.” Apollo interrupted his twin sister Artemis, finishing her, stepping in front of her as if to protect her from my gaze.

“You saw me? You saw what exactly!?” I growled, waiting for a response but they refused to give me one.

I then moved my gaze to Hephaestus, “You can’t tell me you believe any of this do you?”

“There are a lot of thing you are capable of and fucking my wife is one of them.” He spat out.

“You have committed adultery and that is unforgivable.” Hera, my mother announced, drawing my gaze to her.

I balled my hands up into fists, my nails digging harshly into the palms of my hands, knuckles turning white, “Unforgivable? Really? My asshole of a father has slept with countless other women, hell hardly any of us share the same mother but you’re saying what you’re all accusing me of doing is unforgivable? Bullshit.”

“Enough!” Zeus roared as he rose from his seat, “I have decided your punishment.”

I waited anxiously to hear what the punishment he thinks is just for a crime of this magnitude, a crime I didn’t commit. The stern and unforgiving look he cast upon me gave me little hope for any kind of leniency.

“You are banished from Olympus.”

My face paled at his words, my heart coming to a stop in my chest for a few seconds too long. The fear of being banished soon turned into rage, an anger so strong that I could barely control myself consumed my entire body. I felt my body tremble with the anger I was feeling, about to explode any second now.

. . . . . .

I woke up with a start, gasping loudly for air as I sat up in bed. My eyes darted around all over the place, as if looking for something but I didn’t know what. I must’ve woken up my father in the other room as he burst in, looking as frantic as I felt, a sword in his hands.

“What, what is it!? What happened!?” He shouted, looking around once more before his eyes landed on me.

I sighed heavily, bringing my knees up to my chest as I ran my fingers through my hair, “Nothing. Nothing happened. I just had a bad dream. I’m fine, papa.”

He took a moment to finally relax, the tension in his shoulders disappearing as he let out a sigh that mirrored mine, “Is it the same one?”

I looked away, hugging my knees closer to my body. Ever since I can remember I’ve had the same dream. Night after night it was always the same. I stood in the middle of what looked like a huge castle, it’s walls so high I couldn’t even see the end of it. The walls were a pristine white along with the columns that were in the room, separated by a few feet in between. Twelve chairs, all decorated differently, none the same were in a crescent moon shape in the middle of the room. I would always be arguing, pleading for my life to people I had never even since. I begged but they never listened. It always ended the same way. I was filled by this overwhelming anger that threatened to consume me but before anything happened I woke up drenched in sweat and gasping for air, my heart beating at a million miles per second.

“Y/N…” My father spoke in a soft tone, putting his sword down against the wall and coming over to sit beside me.

He placed an arm around my shoulders and pulled me in close, planting a gentle kiss on my forehead. I leaned into him, wrapping my arms around his waist and burying my face into his shoulder. This dream always left me feeling so empty inside, like my heart had been gouged out with the rustiest spoon you could find. I wanted to know what it all meant but I was never able to figure it out. I mean it just didn’t make sense. I have never seen those people before but every time I had that dream their faces and voices were always the same, as if I was reliving some type of memory but that can’t be possible. Not only that but every time I spoke in the dream the voice was never mine, it was deep, husky, and unfamiliar but familiar at the same time, like I knew him or at least heard his voice before.

“This is all his doing…” My father mumbled under his breath, squeezing me tighter in his hold.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just some nonsense your old man is thinking about, don’t pay it any mind,” He said quickly, avoiding my questioning eyes as he evaded the subject. He gave me a tight lipped smile, changing the subject, “Why don’t we start the day early today? The sun is going to rise in a few hours. If we get the morning chores done ahead of time you’ll be able to have a few hours to yourself to relax before we open.”

I smiled back at him, letting what he said earlier go as I nodded. He leaned in and placed another kiss on my forehead before he let me go, rising to his feet. He grabbed his sword and left my room, leaving me along with my thoughts.

“Papa I’m heading out! I’ll be back in a bit!” I shouted to my father who was organizing some things at the back of the shop.

“Okay! Be careful!” He shouted back.

And with that I left. It didn’t take long for me to get to my destination and once I was there I began my training. I don’t know why nor do I care but ever since I’ve been able to walk I’ve had this urge to fight. There was something in me that kept me from being still for too long. I never fought with anyone but that’s not to say I never had the urge to do so. There have been countless times when I found myself having to choose to fight or take flight and though I wanted to fight, to protect those that needed protecting I always found myself fleeing. I had come close to picking up a sword to fight but the second I touched the handle of the sword my vision went white and a voice rang out in my head, the words always the same. The voice always warned me to never pick up a sword, a shield, a spear, or even a bow and arrow. The voice was so frightening that I listened to it every time until I stopped trying to involve myself in things where I needed to even think about fighting in the first place. But the urge was still there so I did the next best thing, I trained to fight on my own. I found that when I did that the urge to fight would dwindle and I wouldn’t have to hear that voice in my head the second I did. It was the best compromise I could find.

I looked over at the lone tree that stood a few feet from the cliff’s edge, the roots it dug deeply into the ground keeping it from falling into the sea below. I glanced down quickly at the bag I had brought over months ago with all kinds of weapons. I had buried it in a secure place and used what was in it whenever I pleased. I can’t quite understand why but the moment I touched one of the weapons I felt stronger, more in control of my body than when I didn't have a weapon in hand. I bent down and picked up a few of the daggers, the blades fitting in the palm of my hands perfectly.

“Ah...I must be crazy…” I breathed out, a wide grin spreading across my face as I brought my arm up before throwing the dagger, watching the blade embed itself into the trunk of the tree, “To think I enjoy things like this…” I chuckled softly before throwing another, then another, a surge of energy going through me. I felt like I could run for miles without stopping on this type of energy, it was exhilarating. I picked up my twin swords, they were a bit shorter than the swords used by the soldiers of the kingdom but that was the whole point. They were made so they were easier to carry and hide if I needed to. They were so light I was able to use both at the same time and two swords were always better than one. I turned my wrists, twirling the swords in my hands with ease. I raised them slowly to start training with them but before I could even get one swing in it started drizzling.

I looked up to the sky in confusion, wondering where the rain was coming from when there wasn’t a cloud in the sky a few minutes ago. Seconds into my staring up into the sky aimlessly the rain got harder, the small drizzling now turning into a full on storm. I sighed heavily, sheathing my blades and secured them behind my back. Seeing that they were secured I hurried over to the daggers that were still embedded in the trunk of the tree. I pulled one out with ease but the second one wouldn’t budge so easily. I pulled as hard as I could but I couldn’t get it out, it felt like it was glued in there. I frowned, grabbing the handle of the dagger with both hands and pulled but it didn’t budge. I grit my teeth and grabbed it as tightly as I could, planting my foot against the trunk and pulled. With the amount of force the blade finally came out but since I was pushing against the tree with so much force I was sent stumbling back, falling back into the now muddy ground. And as I fell to the floor I heard the skies above roar with thunder, lightning striking the ground mere inches from my face. I stared at the ground in shock, my heart beating loudly in my ears, the sound of my heart drowning out the sound of the rain. I scrambled away from the spot the lightning had stuck, my back hitting the tree.

I didn’t know how long I stayed there just staring at the spot the lightning had stricken but it couldn’t have been longer than a few seconds, another crack of thunder bringing me out of my thoughts. I looked up, frightened that I’d be hit by this next bolt of lightning. I pushed myself away from the tree, stumbling a bit as I looked up towards the sky, my eyes growing wide as bright light shined right above me. But before I could be struck I felt something warm envelope my body, sending me to the floor. I let out a small scream and shut my eyes when the lightning struck the spot I had just been standing in.

“Fucking asshole.” A deep voice growled out above me.

I opened my eyes at the sound of his voice, staring up at the man that was now shielding me from the rain. I stared at him wide eyed, unable to look away from his perfectly sculpted face. He was...gorgeous, he could give any statue any of these artists tried to pass off as the perfect human a run for their money. I’ve seen good looking people before but never like him. He had high cheekbones but they weren’t too high that they took away from the rest of his face. His eyes were that perfect almond shape, eyebrows perfectly shaped and his jawline was so sharp I’m betting I could cut my finger on it. Just as I was losing myself he finally met my gaze, a flush of color rising to my cheeks when his eyes met mine.

“What the hell are you doing out in the middle of a storm? Are you trying to get yourself killed? Who the hell just stands around waiting to be hit by lightning? Do you have nothing going on in that head of yours or are you just that stupid?” He scolded in a harsh tone, a frown adorning his face.

Yeah, I take everything I said about him being gorgeous back. With a scoff and a roll of my eyes I pushed at his chest roughly, shoving him off of me. He landed on his back next to me with a thud. I sat up and began to rise to my feet when he spoke again.

“What? Cat got your tongue??” He asked, his tone still firm and maybe even harsher than before.

I ignored him and got to my feet, shaking the mud off of me and was about to head back home but I was only able to take a few steps away from him when I felt his hand wrap around my wrist. Without warning he began dragging me with him, I don't know where but I didn’t want to find out.

“What do you think you’re doing!? Let go of me!” I yelled over the rain, struggling against his grip but he was too strong.

I would’ve used the swords I still had strapped on my back but I didn’t really want to have to hear that voice again at this moment. So I kept struggling but no matter how much I struggled his grip wouldn’t let up. He finally let me go when he brought me into a nearby cave, dragging me out of the storm.

“Oh so you can talk, great. Maybe your next words will be ones of gratitude, I did just save your life.” He said in a cocky tone, ruffling his hair with his hand, droplets of water falling to the ground.

“I didn’t ask for your help.” I shot back, taking a step away from him, wanting to make a run for it.

“No, but I gave it to you anyway and help with or without being asked for should be rewarded with a word of thanks.” He said as if lecturing me.

I stared at him, mouth hanging agape, “Just who the hell do you think you are?”

He seemed stunned by my question, a shadow falling over his eyes as he averted his gaze, “Nobody important.”

Now I was confused. First this man comes out of nowhere in the middle of a storm to save my life only to reprimand me for no good reason. Then he drags me to a nearby cave that I didn’t even know was here and talks to me as if he’s known me my whole life when I barely just met him. Just what is this guy’s deal? I narrowed my eyes and studied his face once more, wondering if I actually did know him. I huffed out a breath, combing back the wet strands of hair that fell over my face. I was grateful for his help but his attitude made me not want to voice my gratitude. So with that I moved to leave the cave and head home, my father must be worried by now. I took one step out of the cave when I felt him grab my hand again.

I pulled my hand away and pushed him back, my swords now in hand as I faced him, “Touch me again and I’ll cut both your hands off.” I threatened, pointing the blades at him but the second I did my vision went white.

I groaned at hearing the voice in my head, squeezing my eyes shut. I shook my head to rid myself of the annoying voice that now seemed more distorted than I remembered.

‘You must never fight.’

I stumbled back, slipping on the mud but I managed to stay on my feet. The ringing was getting to be too much, the pain now becoming unbearable. I dropped a sword to bring a hand up to the side of my head, as if doing that would somehow alleviate the pain but it did absolutely nothing.

“Am I not even allowed...to defend myself?” I asked in a choked whisper, knowing the voice wouldn’t respond with an answer to my question, only repeating what I’ve heard so many times before.

‘Never pick up a sword, a shield, a spear, nor a bow and arrow to harm another.’

I cursed, dropping the other sword and cradled my head with both hands as I sank to my knees. The moment I did that the ringing stopped, my vision returning to me.

-Yeosang’s P.O.V-

I watched as she fell forward, all the strength seeming to leave her body. I took a tentative step towards her, hearing the skies rumble with thunder the second I did. I clenched my hands at my sides, my nails digging into the palms of my hands and drawing blood. The bastard was trying to kill her and now he’s pissed I’m with her in here, just what the fuck is going on in that head of his?

“Ah, fuck it.” I cursed under my breath and quickly went over to her.

I turned her onto her back, relieved to see that she was only unconscious. Without wasting another second I scooped her up into my arms, carrying her deeper into the cave before setting her back down, leaning her back against the wall of the cave. I crouched down in front of her, staring at her face with what others would probably describe as a look mixed with affection and concern. I let out a sigh, reaching out to gently brush the back of my fingers against her cheek.

“I had planned to stay out of your sight but he’s forced my hand. I refuse to let you end up like the others…” I muttered, pulling my hand back to my side as I continued to watch her as she slept soundlessly, “What I did for you was the only good thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. If Zeus wants to use you to get to me then he has another thing coming. I swear to you I will protect you with everything I have, you have my word, as the God of War known as Ares. So long as I live you have my word no harm will come to you. Ever. If anyone dares to go against you I will wreck havoc and chaos upon this world like no one has ever seen before. And that is no mere threat, but a promise.”

I growled out that last part looking up, glaring through the roof of the cave and towards the sky, directing it at the bastard I had the misfortune of calling my father.

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vyther16 · 3 years

Text

wip wednesday

okay this is long enough to qualify as a one-shot, but it’s not complete? so yeah, anyway, this is my take on a roleswap for the Wen sibs where Wen Qing is the fierce corpse and Wen Ning is the one who finds Wei Wuxian. I don’t see myself ever coming back to finish this. It’s a mishmash of cql & the novel, so enjoy!

(cw for the slave camps, dehumanization, vaguely described corpse of a child (and adult), and character death)

technically not a one-shot under the cut :)

“Jiejie!” Wen Ning is screaming, slogging through the piles of bodies. Wei Wuxian’s stomach rolls at the sight of a boy no older than twelve, the blood on his face evident even in the darkness of the stormy night. He’s seen worse, he knows, but the sight of dead children is never easy.

He searches, too, for the woman who saved his brother. For the woman who damned him.

When Wen Ning finds her face down in the water, robes torn and her own sword stabbed through her chest, he screams, and Wei Wuxian turns away to give him privacy in his grief.

He hears the distant clash of swords, and then realizes that Wen Ning is not the only one who has lost someone, and the Jin sect cultivators will likely be unappreciative of someone seeing their cruelty. Wei Wuxian sends one last glance at Wen Ning, sobbing over the body of his sister, and runs back up the hill.

He arrives at a slaughter.

Wei Wuxian barely thinks before he’s pulling out Chenqing, beckoning the corpses at the bottom of the hill and the new ones at the top to destroy the Jin cultivators. The Wens destroyed Lotus Pier, destroyed his family and his home, but these Wens did nothing to deserve what is being done to them.

He saw a child. A little boy no older than three and his grandmother, no younger than sixty, forced to march in the pouring rain for the crime of their name.

The corpses leave the Wens alone, listening to Chenqing. The Jins scream. The Wens run, hiding in the sheds that are masquerading as huts. When there are no more screams, Wei Wuxian lowers Chenqing, letting the resentful energy seep out of him.

“Wei-gongzi,” Wen Ning implores, and Wei Wuxian realizes that he’s been speaking for longer than Wuxian has heard him.

He shakes his head, once, twice, to clear away the last of the shadows, and turns to Wen Ning. “Sorry, Wen Ning,” he says, making no attempt to bring false cheer into his voice.

“We can’t stay here, Wei-gongzi,” he says, like he’s repeated it multiple times, and Wei Wuxian nods, slowly. The gears in his head always slow down after he uses Chenqing, and he has to force them to work faster.

He can’t take the Wens to Lotus Pier; Jiang Cheng would rather lose his core again than shelter the Wens. They can’t go to Cloud Recesses; the Lans abhor his cultivation. Koi Tower is out of the question, and Nie Mingjue would rather all the Wens be killed. “I know where I can take you,” he says, wishing there were a better option, but knowing there isn’t one.

“Bring jiejie,” Wen Ning says, and Wei Wuxian realizes that Wen Ning is holding Wen Qing’s body up. Her sword is stuck through Wen Ning’s belt.

“We won’t leave her,” he says, surveying the wrecked work camp. “Your family went into the buildings when I started playing Chenqing.”

“Keep jiejie with you,” Wen Ning says. Wei Wuxian takes her body as Wen Ning goes into the first building.

Wei Wuxian heaves Wen Qing into a bridal carry. She’s so much thinner than the last time he saw her, and her once-fine robes haven’t been altered to reflect that.

He has seen things much worse than the dead body of a woman he was close to, in a way. He feels sick anyway, seeing proud Wen Qing turned into nothing more than a starving slave. Turned into a too-thin corpse.

Wen Ning leaves the first building with several elders following him. “This is Wei-gongzi. He won’t hurt you.”

Then he goes into the next building. Wei Wuxian shifts his weight. “Do any of you know where the guards’ horses are kept?” he asks.

A man around fifty steps forward. “I do, young Wei-gongzi,” he says.

“We’ll need enough for everyone able to ride. We aren’t staying here.”

The man bows, and Wei Wuxian returns his gaze to Wen Ning, coming out of the next building. He’s holding the boy from earlier tightly, the grandmother clinging to his arm. The trio is followed by a collection of Wens that are slightly younger than the first group. The youngest among them looks around nineteen, but the rest are all forty or older.

“Wei-gonzi, this is everyone,” Wen Ning says. The elder has come back leading some horses.

“If you know how to ride, get a horse. Those with injuries go with those who are able to ride. I know a place where you will be safe,” Wei Wuxian says. His hair is heavy with water, and he does not look forward to riding in the rain.

He finds his own horse, and the teenager from the second group comes up to him. He vaguely recognizes her as one of the Wen disciples who had followed Wen Chao around at Cloud Recesses. He remembered thinking she was far too young for all the rules of the Gusu Lan sect.

“Thank you, Wei-gongzi,” she says, and bows.

Wei Wuxian catches her bow best he’s able, holding Wen Qing as he is. “Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t got you all to safety yet.”

She frowns. “You have still saved us some,” she refutes, but there’s a shout from the elders near the gate before Wei Wuxian can respond.

“Someone is coming!” he shouts, scrambling back from the wooden fence.

Wei Wuxian sucks in a sharp breath and then whirls to face his horse. He heaves Wen Qing up onto it, then turns to the girl. “Can you still cultivate?” he asks her.

She nods, eyes wide. “But not very well. I don’t have much energy for it. And I haven’t been allowed to cultivate at all since Qishan fell.”

“That’s good enough. Stay with Wen Ning and protect everyone here. Get everyone to Yiling however you can, understand? I’ll distract the cultivators here and meet you all there. Take Wen Qing,” he orders, and he knows that the elders nearby have also heard, because they all go to the back part of the compound.

Wei Wuxian pulls out Chenqing and plays a quick song that sends the fence on that end of the compound crumbling at the hands of a few corpses. There’s a shout from one of the Wens, and then the horses are galloping away.

Wei Wuxian keeps playing, and more corpses rise to flank him as he steps out of the gate.

“Wei Ying.”

He drops his flute down to his side, staring at Lan Zhan.

so yeah.

Anyway, free fic idea looking for good home! I don’t see myself getting into this one, bc if I ever get around to writing cql/mdzs stuff again, I’ll be going for my Wen!wwx au

#wip wednesday #chen qing ling #the untamed #modao zushi #mdzs #wei wuxian #wen ning #wen qing #i feel kinda rude tagging her bc she's kinda dead #but it wouldn't exist without her #and the reader knows she come back eventually #but just not in this snippet lol #fierce corpse!wen qing au #this is from june 2020 #so yeah #enjoy!

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harrylee94 · 3 years

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The Tournament - Chapter 6

You can find this on AO3!

Summary: The Prince had been there since the first hints of light had touched the sky, Saruk at his side and a large, two handed axe held in his hand. Cobb had been up on the roof for almost an hour by the time he’d arrived, unable to sleep and a blanket around him. He had wanted to jump down, to run to his side to look him over, to make sure he was unharmed, but he knew it wasn’t his place and had to make do with watching from a distance.

Notes: TW: There is an execution in this chapter. I don't go into any real details, but someone it decapitated, and there is blood.

If you feel uncomfortable with this, please see the end notes for a short summary of the chapter.

Chapter 5

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“I, Din Djarin, Prince of the kingdom of Mandalore, sentence you to die" - Cobb

The morning air was cool from where Cobb sat on the stable roof, Peli and Jo sat on either side of him as the sun began peeking out over the horizon. It would be some time yet before it would breach the castle walls, and the night’s chill would take even longer to dissipate, but no one was going to complain, Cobb least of all.

Someone had tried to kill the Prince. An honoured guest, a high born little lordling, had taken the trust Din had given her and crushed it under her boot. It had taken everything Cobb had not to storm into the castle’s prison to demand her head on the spot. Knowing she’d lose it the coming morning had soothed some of his rage, but he had seethed for the rest of the day, something his friends had noted.

Jo had pushed him to direct his anger into something more productive, like cleaning up the stable and practicing in the armour she’d been fixing up for him -- something he’d bought over the years, a mis-matched, slightly rusting set with broken straps though it was -- which Peli had then walked in on and demanded to know what was going on. The explanation had left her grinning viciously, and Cobb’s team grew from two to three.

His armour was safely hidden away in the back of the stables for now, as fixed up as it could have been in the week Jo had to alter it between her apprenticeship and the Armourer having to use the forge herself, but now it was dawn, and Din was stood in the centre of the ward next to a headsman’s block.

The Prince had been there since the first hints of light had touched the sky, Saruk at his side and a large, two handed axe held in his hand. Cobb had been up on the roof for almost an hour by the time he’d arrived, unable to sleep and a blanket around him. He had wanted to jump down, to run to his side to look him over, to make sure he was unharmed, but he knew it wasn’t his place and had to make do with watching from a distance.

As time had passed Peli and Jo had appeared beside him, and more nobles than Cobb had ever seen awake at this hour began to gather. Some servants who had tasks to get on with in the hours before dawn had to skirt around them and keep their heads down, but the crowd wasn’t big enough to cause any real delay. Din hadn’t moved more than a few inches in all the time he’d spent waiting, but he had looked up at Cobb a few times, and he was determined to be there for him.

He’d wanted to have his sword with him, to show his support in more than just his presence, but he couldn’t, else he give himself away, so he brought his makeshift staff instead -- another broken cleaning implement -- and held it across his lap. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw Din looking at it and giving him a small, almost hidden smile.

But that was probably a trick of the morning light.

When the prisoner was dragged out and held for all to see, Cobb’s grip grew so intense the wood creaked.

“Not so tight,” Jo muttered, giving him a nudge. “You’re already at a disadvantage with your idiot ass not getting any sleep last night, don’t add splinters to the mix.”

Cobb gritted his teeth before releasing a breath, carefully making his fingers relax their grip. She was right; today was the first day of the Tournament, and he couldn’t afford any more mistakes.

“Veryn of no Clan or House,” Din said, bringing the chatter to silence. “You are here to face the judgement for your crime of treason. Do you have any last words?”

The bitch held herself tall and sneered at him. “You are destroying what it is to be Mandalorian. Someone will stop you.”

Cobb had to take another deep breath to stop from gripping the staff too hard again, twisting it in his hands instead.

Din did nothing for a few moments, then nodded. “So be it.” Cobb winced at how sad he sounded, but then he tapped the butt of the axe against the ground and braced himself. “I, Din Djarin, Prince of the kingdom of Mandalore, sentence you to die. Kneel.”

“I will never kneel to you,” she spat. The guards holding the traitor pushed her forwards, moving her to the block and pushing her down to her knees.

Din picked the axe up as she was pushed down, arms and body tied to the block as she struggled. The Prince hefted the axe, and with one swing it was over.

The axe was brought up again, the blade red with blood, and Din sighed down at the now limp body. The tired look in his eyes made something twist in Cobb’s chest, but it’s gone before the head had stopped rolling, and he turned to the guards.

“Give the body to her father,” he ordered. “He deserves the time to grieve.”

They saluted him, fists over their hearts, and removed the remains. All Cobb could hear though was the echo of Din’s words.

Deserves time to grieve. He was giving the traitor’s family time to do what he had not had the chance to experience. This man had so much kindness in him that it dwarfed even his mother’s, and yet the fact that he still managed to sentence and execute a traitor spoke of a great well of inner strength.

“Cobb, you’re doing it again,” Jo said, and he looked over at her quizzically.

“Doing what, exactly?”

“Pining,” Peli said with an unamused look.

Cobb snorted, but didn’t deny it. How could he when Din was so… perfect? “We have to protect him.”

“Ain’t that what we’re doing?” Peli asked.

“Yeah but… Who knows who else is gonna go after him?” Cobb asked. “She was supposed to be competing, could have even won, and then what would have stopped her from-?” He waved his hand towards Din, who was talking quietly with Saruk.

“From what I heard he managed to keep himself pretty well protected without any help,” Peli said with a roll of her eyes. “Stop worrying! He’ll be fine!”

“If you think that then why are you helping us?” Cobb asked, a sharp edge entering his voice that he instantly regrets. “Sorry.”

“You should be,” Peli said, then gave his arm a not-so-soft punch. “Ah, forget it. I get it. That kid’s had nothing but hardship these last few years. What you’re trying to do, whether it works or not, is pretty damn noble. Sure, you’re a bit in love with the guy. So what?” She poked him in the chest. “You’ve got a good heart, Cobb Vanth, and I’m gunna make sure you’re getting the right sort of support too.”

“... Thanks, Peli,” Cobb said as he blinked back tears.

“No, don’t you cry on me,” the shorter woman warned, leaning away from him. “If you cry on me you can forget it. I’m jumping off this roof and you can get your help elsewhere.”

Cobb snorted a laugh and quickly wiped at his eyes with his sleeve. “Aw, I could never turn away your help Peli. I’ll be on my best behaviour, promise.”

She gave him a disbelieving look, but nodded. “Well alright then.”

“Wait, step back a bit,” Jo said from his other side, drawing his attention. “I know you said we had to protect him, but before it was just keeping stuck-up pricks from winning.”

“It’s still that,” Cobb argued, but Jo shook her head.

“No, it’s not,” she said. “You saw how many names on that list were from noble families, and I know that this has damaged your trust -- probably everyone’s trust -- in them. The only name on it that wasn’t from some family that can trace its lineage back at least two hundred years was yours! Even if it isn’t technically your name.”

“Jo, what are you trying to say?”

The smith’s apprentice set her jaw. “You need to win.”

“Win?” He blinked and looked back out at the ward, back at Din who had handed the axe over to Saruk and started to make his way back to the keep. As though he could feel Cobb’s gaze on him, he paused in his stride and looked up at him. The stable hand quickly pressed his lips into a small smile and nodded to the Prince, and his heart swelled when he caught sight of a little smile in return before the Prince disappeared inside.

“Look at you,” Jo said, but Cobb couldn’t bring himself to look away just yet to face her. “The only person competing you’d trust with that man’s life is you, and we sure as shit can’t trust any of the nobles now that someone’s tried to kill him.”

Cobb shook his head. “I can’t win. I’m not a knight. I’m not a lordling. I don’t have any titles. I’m no one!”

“Since when has that stopped you before?” Peli asked, joining Jo in ganging up on him. “If you think it’s gonna be easy then I’m locking you in the stable, but she’s right. I’ve seen you stand up to idiots with wealth and titles a hundred times greater than you. You’ve also been beaten to shit by some folks with wealth and titles too, but you’re still standing, ain’t ya?”

“It’s why you bought the armour, right?” Jo said. “You wanted to show them that you didn’t need titles or money to be able to beat them into the dirt.”

“Well guess what; here’s your chance, tied up with a nice satin bow,” Peli said, patting him on the back.

He shook his head again. “I never signed up to win.”

“But you have to,” Jo said, and Cobb felt her press her hand on his shoulder. “You’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t.”

Cobb looked over the ward again, down at the nobles who were either milling around and chatting or heading back to their tents or rooms, avoiding the block with blood pooled around it. He thought of all the names on the list, the almost three dozen contestants, and wondered how many of them had signed up because they believed the Prince deserved to be protected.

All he’d wanted, when he’d put the name he’d be riding under down, was to keep people like Ser Jaonar from winning, but Jo was right; how was he supposed to know which were and which were not?

“I’m still not a knight,” he pointed out. “Or competing under my own name.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Jo said with a grin of victory. “For now, just focus on winning.”

“And when you do win you’ll finally take your lovesick looks with you,” Peli said with almost a cheer.

“Oh, but they’ll only get worse,” Jo said, her grin turning into a smirk, and he groaned.

“Please…”

“Being right by his side, day after day,” Jo teased. “Following him everywhere he goes.”

Peli cackled. “He is pining after him , right?”

“Yep.”

The cackling doubled in volume. “Oh you are so screwed.”

“Stop,” Cobb pleaded, ducking his head into his hands.

“He’s bound to notice the eyes you make at him one day,” Jo said. “You’re not subtle about it, if you know what you’re looking for.”

“Stop, please !” he begged, and got their teasing chuckles or it. “I hate you both.”

“Love you too,” Jo said, bumping her arm against his. “Now come on, let’s get some food in you and run you through some drills to warm you up. Oh! And I added a few embellishments to your armour.”

“When did you have time to do that?”

She snorted. “You weren’t the only one who couldn’t sleep last night. Now help us down and let’s grab some breakfast.”

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Summary: Cobb watches Din execute the traitor, but Din gives her body to her family so they can grieve. Cobb is touched by this and feels the need to protect him grow. Jo and Peli, who are with him, help him realise that if this is the case, then he needs to win the Tournament before ribbing him about his crush.

Chapter 7

#writing #fanfic #mandalorian fanfic #fic #the mandalorian #cobb vanth #din djarin #peli motto #jo (mandalorian)#medieval au #dincobb #pining #tw: execution #tw: blood

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