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hollowed-theory-hall · 19 hours

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Any HC's or theories on Regulus Black?

Hi! This was a really fun ask actually and I ended up blabbering a lot about Regulus Arcturus Black because I have thoughts.

Okay, so I'm going to do something similar to what I did with Theodore Nott since there isn't a lot of info about Regulus, but there's a lot implied and I love extrapolating. I think Regulus is a fascinating character that can be read in multiple ways (part of the fun!)

It got a bit long, but here are my thoughts about him:

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black

“Leave?” Sirius smiled bitterly and ran a hand through his long, unkempt hair. “Because I hated the whole lot of them: my parents, with their pure-blood mania, convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal . . . my idiot brother, soft enough to believe them . . . that’s him.” Sirius jabbed a finger at the very bottom of the tree, at the name REGULUS BLACK. A date of death (some fifteen years previously) followed the date of birth. “He was younger than me,” said Sirius, “and a much better son, as I was constantly reminded.” “But he died,” said Harry. “Yeah,” said Sirius. “Stupid idiot . . . he joined the Death Eaters.” [...] “No, no, but believe me, they thought Voldemort had the right idea, they were all for the purification of the Wizarding race, getting rid of Muggle-borns and having purebloods in charge. They weren’t alone either, there were quite a few people, before Voldemort showed his true colors, who thought he had the right idea about things. . . . They got cold feet when they saw what he was prepared to do to get power, though. But I bet my parents thought Regulus was a right little hero for joining up at first.”

(OotP, 112)

So, first, we have some background. Regulus Black was the younger brother of Sirius. Part of the main male line of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.

What we know of Sirius' childhood is that the Blacks were pure-blood fanatics. From Elladrora who hung house-elf heads on the wall to Araminata who billed the ministry to legalize muggle-hunting. Not to mention the Blacks' tendency to disown and disinherit anyone who doesn't fall in line with their standards of purity. They are, after all, "Always Pure".

So Regulus grew up wealthy in a family that considered themselves magical nobility (and probably are, in that I think they have a family Wizengamot membership). He never lacked anything, but his childhood came with expectations, more so after Sirius left.

I've seen many write Walburga and Orion as abusive, but I don't think they cursed their children. I don't think they were great parents, but I truly believe they never raised a wand (or hand) against one of their sons. What I think they did, was heft some impossible standards on their sons.

Sirius is the eldest, the heir, therefore as children, he would've carried most of these expectations. Sirius would be the one Walburga and Orion dotted after. Kreature says Sirius leaving broke Waburga's heart and I honestly believe it to be true. I think Sirius was Walburga's favorite. The eldest, the brightest, the cleverest, the most handsome. The brightest star in the night sky.

Regulus, as a child, would always come second. He would see his brother cause havoc and get all their parents' attention, so, in his bid to get attention too, he did the opposite of Sirius. If Sirius got attention for being a rebel, Regulus would follow each and every standard their parents put down to the latter. This is something you see in many families, each sibling wants to have their own "niche" so they tend to do the opposite of the sibling that came before them. And that's exactly what we see with Regulus. Sirius was the rebel, so Regulus became the dutiful, obedient perfect pure-blood son his mother wanted to win her affection and differentiate himself from Sirius.

These comparisons between them Sirius mentioned, they probably went both ways. Walburga reminded Sirius of how dutiful and reliable Regulus is and "Why can't you be more like your brother," but Regulus heard the exact same sentence. "Why can't you be as witty/talented as you're brother".

And after Sirius left, I think these comparisons got worse. I think Walburga and Orion talked about Sirius constantly after he left.

I believe Sirius and Regulus were actually close as young children and started growing apart once Sirius started school. Sirius being sorted into Gryffindor was a new point of tension in the home. The constant comparisons they both heard to each other made resentment grow and after Sirius left, Regulus couldn't speak to his parents without hearing "Oh, Sirius would say this" and "Sirius would think that" I think that resentment and bitterness got worse. So, he did what he always did to differentiate himself from Sirius — be the perfect Slytherin pure-blood.

I think this helped his decision to join the Death Eaters. Not the only factor, mind you, I don't think it's Sirius' fault Regulus joined the Death Eaters, it was still Regulus' decision. But I think the situation at home after Sirius left factored into it.

Who was Regulus as a person?

Now I want to talk a little bit more about Regulus' personality before covering his untimely end everyone is familiar with.

It was a pompous little sign, neatly lettered by hand the sort of thing that Percy Weasley might have stuck on his bedroom door. Do Not Enter Without the Express Permission of Regulus Arcturus Black

(DH, 163)

They moved over the threshold together, gazing around. Regulus’s bedroom was slightly smaller than Sirius’s, though it had the same sense of former grandeur. Whereas Sirius had sought to advertise his diffidence from the rest of the family, Regulus had striven to emphasize the opposite. The Slytherin colors of emerald and silver were everywhere, draping the bead, the walls, and the windows. The Black family crest was painstakingly painted over the bed, along with its motto, TOUJOURS PUR. Beneath this was a collection of yellow newspaper cuttings, all stuck together to make a ragged collage. Hermione crossed the room to examine them. “They’re all about Voldemort,” she said. “Regulus seems to have been a fan for a few years before he joined the Death Eaters . . . ” A little puff of dust rose from the bedcovers as she sat down to read the clippings. Harry, meanwhile, had noticed another photograph: a Hogwarts Quidditch team was smiling and waving out of the frame. He moved closer and saw the snakes emblazoned on their chests: Slytherins. Regulus was instantly recognizable as the boy sitting in the middle of the front row: He had the same dark hair and slightly haughty look of his brother, though he was smaller, slighter, and rather less handsome than Sirius had been. “He played Seeker,” said Harry.

(DH, 164)

I believe you can learn a lot about a person from their living space. Regulus' (and Sirius') bedrooms remained unchanged by their parents from the moment they left them. As Regulus died when he was 18 or 19 the room is frozen as it was when it served him. So, what does Regulus' bedroom tell us about him?

Harry refers to the sign on the door as something pompous, and written in a nice handwriting. I believe the sign was put up when Regulus was younger, specifically against Sirius. It's one of these signs children put on their doors specifically against their annoying siblings who steal their stuff or rummage through it. And even after they grew out of it, after Sirius left, Regulus kept the sign up. I think he couldn't really muster to put it away even once Sirius wasn't around to poke into his room anymore.

As I mentioned above, Regulus tried to be the opposite of Sirius and decorated his room accordingly. The most Slytherin pure-blood child of Hosue Black there could be. The Hogwarts memorabilia is some of that perfect Slytherin son image, but it's also really sad. It's a reminder of just how young Regulus was when he died. Sure, he would've probably kept a lot of it as an adult, but it's unlikely he would've displayed Slytherin banners and pictures of the Quidditch team in the same way long after school was over. But Regulus graduated a year before his death, he didn't have time to grow up and grow away from his school experiences. So his room, like him, is stuck at 19.

The Black family crest and motto painted above the bed is another extra mile to show Regulus' dedication to being the perfect son, the perfect child his mother wanted. I headcanon this was painted after Sirus left. A sort of sign to say that Regulus wouldn't leave. That he cares about his family.

Harry also mentioned Regulus was a Seeker on the Slytherin Quidditch team, according to his seating in the photo. It doesn't tell us much more about Regulus, I think it's just more of him trying to please his parents. That and I think he genuinely liked Quidditch, which is a fun little tidbit.

Now, we don't know much about Regulus at school, but I'd say he was a good student. He wasn't as naturally talented and gifted as Sirius, but Regulus knew to work his ass off. The neat handwriting on the door sign is probably his, I bet he had really organized notes in school that everyone wanted to copy. Regulus as the second best to Sirius, would be more of a hard worker than Sirius in general and strive for perfection in his school work out of his desire for attention and recognition from his parents.

Now, let's talk about the newspaper clippings elephant in the room...

Regulus the Death Eater

Sirius said his parents thought Voldemort had the right idea about muggles and muggleborns, and it's clear Regulus agreed with them. Regulus was a Voldemort fanboy before he became a Death Eater, yes, the circumstances he grew up with and his resentment towards Sirius were part of it, but it was a choice he made. He thought it was a good idea, he thought muggles and muggleborns should know their place. I think there are a lot of parallels between Regulus Black and Draco Malfoy, especially when Kreature talks about how Regulus was at first as a Death Eater:

“Master Sirius ran away, good riddance, for he was a bad boy and broke my Mistress’s heart with his lawless ways. But Master Regulus had proper order; he knew what was due to the name of Black and the dignity of his pure blood. For years he talked of the Dark Lord, who was going to bring the wizards out of hiding to rule the Muggles and the Muggle-borns . . . and when he was sixteen years old, Master Regulus joined the Dark Lord. So proud, so proud, so happy to serve . . . And one day, a year after he joined, Master Regulus came down to the kitchen to see Kreacher. Master Regulus always liked Kreacher. And Master Regulus said . . . he said . . . ” The old elf rocked faster than ever. “. . . he said that the Dark Lord required an elf.” […] “Oh yes,” moaned Kreacher. “And Master Regulus had volunteered Kreacher. It was an honor, said Master Regulus, an honor for him and for Kreacher, who must be sure to do whatever the Dark Lord ordered him to do . . . and then to c-come home.” Kreacher rocked still faster, his breath coming in sobs.

(DH, 168-169)

Like Draco, Regulus was proud to be a Death Eater, excited to do something against the "filthy mudbloods" plaguing their society. He considered helping Voldemort an honor. A good thing. Same as how Draco talks about it at first. But like we see with Draco in book 6, that it became too much for him, that he was having mental breakdowns in the toilet with Myrtle, I think Regulus experienced something similar.

He grew up spoiled, well-treated, well-mannered. He wasn't raised a soldier, a killer. I don't think Regulus had it in him, same as Draco. He couldn't bear to torture and kill.

Regulus, Kreature, and Empathy

The other interesting note in the above quotes is "Master Regulus always liked Kreacher". I find this adorable and jarring. We see how Sirius treats Kreature, he doesn't treat him as an equal being, he treats him like a slave, like a house-elf. Sirius does it because that's how he was raised to see house-elves, even the Weasleys think of house-elves in this way. It's a societal thing. But Regulus doesn't.

Regulus is kind to Kreature, and cares about him, likes him. It's kind of insane for a blood-purist Death Eater to show affection for a house-elf, especially the kind of affection in which Regulus chose to die instead of torturing his elf (his choice to die had other factors in it, and I'll get to it later). It's just, I don't know, the dynamic Regulus and Kreature had is really precious to me, okay?

Like, the fact it could happen goes to show how compassionate Regulus was even with his bigoted views and choice to become a Death Eater. Sirius calls Regulus "soft" and I think he is 100% right. Regulus was the "softer" and more empathetic of the two brothers. That softness doesn't mean he didn't think muggles and muggleborns are lesser and chose to become a Death Eater on his own accord. But that empathy is what probably made him uncomfortable among Death Eaters and get cold feet once he saw what was going on inside.

I imagine Kreature and Regulus were friendly for years. Kreature has served the Hosue of Black for a good while, which means he likely raised Regulus and Sirius. I think he helped with Regulus more than with Sirius, just because of how they reacted to him differently. Also, Waburga and Orion probably had less attention to give to Regulus when he was just born as Sirius was still really young then (a year or a year and a half old), so their attention would be more divided and Kreature would help more. I headcanon when Regulus was a young child Kreature would, like, sneak him extra desert and such and a young Sirius would complain he's not getting any.

How do we know what happened to him?

“Was he killed by an Auror?” Harry asked tentatively. “Oh no,” said Sirius. “No, he was murdered by Voldemort. Or on Voldemort’s orders, more likely, I doubt Regulus was ever important enough to be killed by Voldemort in person. From what I found out after he died, he got in so far, then panicked about what he was being asked to do and tried to back out. Well, you don’t just hand in your resignation to Voldemort. It’s a lifetime of service or death.”

(OotP, 112)

Now, what's interesting about this quote is how Sirius found this out. Why would he know that's what happened? Who could he have spoken to that would've known to tell him this?

Voldemort killing traitors is known, and many other characters mention it, but who would know Regulus turned traitor?

Other Death Eaters. Specifically, highly valued Death Eaters that are related to Regulus, like Bellatrix, who happened to be in Azkaban with Sirius.

I believe Sirius "found out" from Bella or other Death Eaters in a neighboring cell who told him that's what happened. I just don't really see any other way he'd come to this conclusion on his own. It's either that or wishful thinking on Sirius' part.

I think the inner circle Death Eaters were told Regulus was killed for treachery but nothing beyond that. I didn't really write about how I think the Dark Mark works, but I think it allows Voldemort to magically know when a Death Eater dies (and a bit more). I don't think he knew how Regulus died, just that he did. But Sirius mentioned he knew Regulus betrayed Voldemort, it means someone had to know. It means Voldemort likely knew Regulus was a traitor and told some of his Death Eaters. The same ones Sirius was in Azkaban with.

Regulus' betrayal and Death

“So what happened when you got back?” Harry asked. “What did Regulus say when you told him what happened?” “Master Regulus was very worried, very worried,” croaked Kreacher. “Master Regulus told Kreacher to stay hidden and not to leave the house. And then . . . it was a little while later . . . Master Regulus came to find Kreacher in his cupboard one night, and Master Regulus was strange, not as he usually was, disturbed in his mind, Kreacher could tell . . . and he asked Kreacher to take him to the cave, the cave where Kreacher had gone with the Dark Lord. . . . “ […] “And he made you drink the poison?” said Harry, disgusted. But Kreacher shook his head and wept. Hermione’s hands leaped to her mouth: She seemed to have understood something. “M—Master Regulus took from his pocket a locket like the one the Dark Lord had,” said Kreacher, tears pouring down either side of his snoutlike nose. “And he told Kreacher to take it and, when the basin was empty, to switch the lockets . . . ” Kreacher’s sobs came in great rasps now; Harry had to concentrate hard to understand him. “And he order—Kreacher to leave—without him. And he told Kreacher—to go home—and never to tell my Mistress—what he had done—but to destroy— the first locket. And he drank—all the potion—and Kreacher swapped the lockets—and watched . . . as Master Regulus . . . was dragged beneath the water. . . and . . . “

(DH, 171)

To the Dark Lord I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more. R.A.B.

(HBP, 609)

So, there are a few things to talk about here:

1. Why did Regulus choose to betray Voldemort when he did? What changed?

As I mentioned above, I think Regulus was always empathetic, just not towards muggleborns (at least until he saw torture first-hand perhaps?), but he was towards Kreature. That worry over Kreature, that's the first big seed of doubt about Voldemort. Regulus cares a lot about Kreature and he's clearly clever. He's smart enough to realise Voldemort must think Kreature is dead so it'll be better if he didn't see Kreature, hence why he told the elf not to leave the house.

I think seeing Keature in a state after he was in the cave is what really caused the shift in how Regulus thinks about Voldemort. I think there were doubts before, I don't think Regulus was ever on board with being the one to torture and murder, he doesn't strike me like the sort, but as long as he didn't really need to partake and it was only "filthy mudbloods" he could kinda excuse it to himself. And whenever a pure-blood was killed or tortured (the first war killed more pure-bloods than muggleborns) he could excuse that too, "they were against us, after all". But then Kreature was hurt too, it was the final nail for Regulus. That's what he couldn't excuse to himself as "justified" anymore.

So Regulus continues being a Death Eater, but he is suspicious, he doesn't trust Voldemort's goals are what he always promised them, and he is uncertain about the means being justified anymore. He is unsure if he is willing to go as far as Voldemort is. So he watches, and study, and waits for his chance.

And that chance came when he found out about the Horcruxes.

After Regulus finds out about the Horcruxes Kreature describes him as "disturbed in the mind" and "strange", it's clear the something rattled him. A lot.

I think finding out Voldemort made a Horcrux pushed Regulus' betrayal to happen. Like, I think Horcruxes are very taboo magic, even among wizards who practice the dark arts. As I mentioned in the past, you need to essentially kill yourself to make a Horcrux. I think messing with your life and soul is considered perverse and twisted even for dark wizards, and Horcruxes even more so. I mean, I think it's uncomfortable to learn you swore your allegiance to someone who's willing to kill himself to gain immortality. It means that someone would stop at nothing to achieve their wishes.

And Regulus is already disenchanted with how far Voldemort is willing to go for goals he isn't even certain of anymore, and then he discovers the Horcrux. A magical item that says that as far as Voldemort went with the war, he could go further, because he is a man who'd stop at nothing, not even self-mutilation is too high a tool for him. That is frightening. Following the orders of someone like that, someone who doesn't care for you and is never going to say "maybe this is too far" is terrifying. The idea of someone like that ruling a government is even worse... no wonder Regulus turned traitor the moment he learned about the Horcrux...

So I think finding out about the Horcrux is why Regulus decided to turn on Voldemort and destroy the Horcrux.

As you can tell, his opinions on muggles or muggleborns aren't the main factor I believe changed Regulus' mind. The means, and how far Voldemort was willing to go is what mostly caused the change of heart. I think Regulus had too much heart for it, even if he thought muggles and muggleborns lesser, he took no sadistic joy in others' pain the way some Death Eaters do. And seeing pure-bloods like him could be hurt in the same way (the Order were mostly pure-bloods), I think was especially abhorrent to him.

2. Why did Regulus choose death?

Regulus chose to drink the potion because he wanted to spare Kreature. This is the same kindness and empathy that I've already discussed, but he could've ordered Kreature to take him back home, nothing stopped him from doing that... and Kreature would've, happily so. So why didn't he?

In the letter Regulus outright said he'd be dead by the time Voldemort reads it, he went into the cave with the full intention to die, he never planned to leave. Kinda like how Harry walked into the forest in Deathley Hallows... but why? Why did he choose death?

I think Regulus chose to die because he knew he wouldn't be able to hid his treachery from Voldemort. I mentioned already I believe Voldemort told his inner circle Death Eaters that Regulus turned traitor and died for it. Voldemort knowing Regulus is a traitor makes Regulus' decision to die make more sense.

The phrase "I want you to know it was I", makes me think Voldemort suspected someone had learned of his Horcruxes but didn't know who. Maybe Voldemort suspected there was a traitor who knew about the Horcruxes, and after Regulus died Voldemort investigated after the fact and figured it was Regulus that turned traitor. Maybe he even checked on the cave and saw Regulus was dead there, so he didn't bother to check on the Horcrux. I don't think he would've expected Kreature to have been there too, otherwise, he'd see no reason for Regulus to be dead. Because for Voldemort, it wouldn't make sense to allow yourself to die like that, he wouldn't really understand why anyone would choose to die if they had the choice.

So Regulus even kept the secret of the Horcrux being taken at all by his death.

Additionally, Regulus chose to die and take out the Horcrux while doing it to avoid being tortured and killed by Voldemort and the Death Eaters. By dying, he also protected his family from being hunted down to try and locate him. He died to protect himself and everyone he cared about from the treatment of Death Eater traitors. Which we know is not pleasant...

3. How did Regulus find out about the Horcruxes?

This is something I'm less sure of and is foraying into heavier speculation. The only hint we really get is: "I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret" from his letter, but what exactly does this mean?

Well, Kreature told Regulus everything he saw. He told him a locket was placed in a cave filled with magical protections. Kreature's information about the locket is probably how Regulus made/bought the replica. But how from "well protected magical item" Regulus reached the conclusion that it's a Horcrux? How did he discover the secret?

I don't know how he was discovered, as for the Horcrux, I have a guess.

Regulus said he discovered the secret, I think what he did was piecing the puzzle together not unlike Dumbledore. He knew from Kreature that Voldemort had an item he guards very securely, he might've heard from Bellatrix that Voldemort is immortal since I'm pretty confident she was told what the cup in her vault is. And I think Regulus, as a member of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, and a clever enough dark wizard, could trace a book about Horcruxes and figure out that's likely what the locket is.

Some random headcanons

1. I think Regulus could be just as much of a little shit as Sirius. I mean, there's a certain edge to how he words his note. I like to think, that when they were young, before Hogwarts, they'd pull pranks together in balls or other stuffy functions and get in trouble together.

2. I have little to no basis for this headcanon, but I'd like to think the painting of the Black family crest and motto above Regulus' bed was painted by Rregulus. I mean, he can do nice calligraphy on the sign on his door, I see no reason he couldn't also paint.

3. And finally, to a kinda sad headcanon, Harry actually saw Regulus in the cave:

the wandlight had slid over a fresh patch of water and showed him, this time, a dead man lying faceup inches beneath the surface, his open eyes misted as though with cobwebs, his hair and his robes swirling around him like smoke.

(HBP, 565)

I assume most of the corpses are muggles, and most of them are actually described as worse for wear than the one robe-wearing wizard corpse Harry describes above. For these reasons, I believe this corpse is Regulus. It's a sad thought, but it crossed my mind when I read this passage in my recent HBP reread.

#harry potter #hp #asks #anon asks #anonymous #regulus black #hp meta #harry potter meta #regulus black meta #regulus arcturus black #r.a.b #hollowedtheory #hollowedheadcanon #hp headcanon

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radiantbard · 10 months

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Menagerie: A collection of discarded scenes from my main project, the Embers of War series. The first one is a sparring match. (In progress?)

The Art of Being Happy: As he awaits his death in the Tower of Guidance, Zelgius is offered a second chance at life by a mysterious stranger. He is summoned to the kingdom of Askr to assist in the war against Múspell. He meets the summoner Evelyn and begins to wonder if there is a chance at redemption and love after all. (In progress)

Sanguine: Beleaguered and overworked Dimitri is convinced to let his hair down by Sylvain. They go to a nightclub together and Dimitri gets more than he bargained for. (In progress)

Candied Violets: Five years after the fall of Garreg Mach, the Blue Lions keep their promise and return. They are reunited with Dimitri and their professor, but Dedue is still missing. Ashe grapples with the complicated emotions the loss brings, but right as he's finally ready to accept it, Dedue comes back into his life. He must now find the courage to act on the feelings that have been with him for so long. (In progress)

That Which Remains: When an Adrestian patrol is lost, another is sent out to finish their mission and, if possible, locate those that were lost. What they find is a hellish scene right out of their nightmares. (Complete)

Birthday Blues: Dimitri is saddened when his dear friend seems to have skipped his birthday party, only to receive a more meaningful gift than he could have imagined. (Complete)

The Day of Devotion: Zelgius gets roped into participating in a tournament during the Day of Devotion, all for the sweetest prize of all: a kiss from the summoner. (Complete)

Periphery: A collection of short stories exploring the peripheral events of Fire Emblem: Three Houses that I won't have time to explore within the main body of my project. (In progress?)

The Saved King: Líf corners Dimitri and brings his fitness as a ruler into question. The Summoner swoops in to break it up before it can go too far. (Complete)

Late Night Encounters: You find Dimitri still working late into the night and take matters into your own hands. (Complete)

Give Me Shelter: Dimitri seeks Byleth out after a nightmare and finds comfort. Five years later, he finds himself falling back into the habit. (Complete)

Like the Tide: After saving him from a fisherman's net, Evelyn finds herself quickly coming to adore her home's resident merman. (In progress)

A Warm Welcome: After weeks abroad, Haar returns home to find his lady waiting for him. (Complete)

Tease: When can no longer focus on the task at hand, Shiro finds other ways to occupy himself. He gets more than he bargained for. (Complete)

Denouement: Siegbert is forced to rest after suddenly falling ill. During his unwilling vacation, he comes to a sudden realization and must decide whether or not he wants to push forward and see where it takes him, or leave it be and let things stay the same. (Complete)

Respite: After the war, Siegbert and Shiro travel to help with the relief effort. Despite their work being important, it takes a toll on them both and Shiro uses Siegbert's birthday as an excuse to give them some much deserved rest.

#fire emblem #one piece #fic masterpost #fic masterlist

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roycehanon · 1 year

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👿👑👊

Get to know the people in my muse’s life.

👿 …someone my muse used to like, but doesn’t anymore.

ursala larson. when he first got to barton point he found her interesting. she rolled with him for weeks, they even slept together, but it was very fleeting. she showed her true colors when he met up with sean and tasmin. at first it was all smiles and then once they went on their way she was straight up rude about their stuttering and casually made fun of them like she does it on the daily. immediately he ended whatever it was with her. he still sees her about and is civil with her but he doesn't fuck with her anymore.

👑 …someone my muse is jealous of.

royce isn't the kind of guy to get get jealous. okay, maybe he does find his pulse race a bit when a guy hits on scarlett when she's at work and he's there having a drink. and maybe, just maybe, he finds tasmin's neverending positivity and hope that she will find love one day a little irritating, but it's only because he wished he had that quality in him. he's thirty going on thirty one next year. he spent most of it in jail and the other half trying to find himself all while making of up for his lost childhood. he jokes around a bit too much now, not one to make thing serious, and only wants to have fun. in hindsight, he's jealous of people who have stable relationships/believe that everything will work out, and people who can take away the ones that he loves.

👊 …someone who hates my muse.

his mother, patricia hanon, hates him. that wasn't always the case though. he was born a middle child so parenting him right did go sideways a bit, he had a bit of leeway, but she raised her children to be the best and she expected that of them. so when he got caught up with the law she went ballistic. she wanted none of that and only wanted the perfect family image. so she shunned him when he tried to get back in her good graces. he wasn't her son, not anymore. there was a moment that she thought back on him and wanted to reach out but as soon as she got word he ended up back in prison, that was over. royce still doesn't understand it, only wanting a family, and it's still something weighing on his mind to this day, but he withstood his mother's hatred for a long time (even when she turned the rest of the family on him) and now, royce feels like he doesn't have to anymore. he has his own found family now that he would do anything for. and patricia is missing out. now if royce finds out that someone hates him, he wouldn't even care because he knows there's nobody who hates him more than his own mother.

#answered #about royce #family #friends #past

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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Prompt: WWX is one of JGS's bastard sons, raised by his mother and her husband - until they die when he's young. Then he gets taken into the Jin sect instead of the Jiang.

Right Hand Man - ao3

It was a bad day.

All the days were a little bad, but this one was especially bad.

“He’s Cangse Sanren’s child,” Jin Zixuan’s father said, tapping his fan against his palm so that he would look more like a scholar. Secretly, shamefully, Jin Zixuan thought that it didn’t really work – he just looked like one of those scoundrels that tried to pay for their meals with calligraphy instead of pennies. “Taking him in will show our strength.”

“You dare bring one of your bastard children here,” Jin Zixuan’s mother said, “and I will drown A-Xuan myself rather than let him suffer through the shame of it.”

Jin Zixuan shivered. No matter how many times he heard his mother say that in her cold and vicious voice, he never got used to it. She’d explained to him that it was the only thing that might work on his father – the fear of losing face like that, of shaming his ancestors, of cutting off his legitimate line – and she was his mother so of course Jin Zixuan believed her, but sometimes when she said it like that he thought she might really go ahead and do it.

“It’s the immortal mountain,” his father argued, ignoring the threat. “The perceived connection is only to our benefit…and anyway, he wouldn’t be legitimized or anything. Legally, his father is that Wei Changze – I could even bring the boy in as a servant if that pleased you more!”

“Nothing you say or do will ever please me,” she said, and that’s when she started throwing things and he started shouting and Jin Zixuan waited until they weren’t paying any attention to him before slipping out.

They’d make a decision one way or another.

It didn’t have anything to do with him.

Wei Wuxian was nominally brought in as a guest disciple, but everyone knew he was really a servant.

Jin Zixuan’s mother made sure everyone knew.

Despite this, Wei Wuxian smiled at everyone, seeming as carefree as a butterfly. It didn’t seem to bother him when he wasn’t allowed to wear sparks amidst snow, or even the usual gold of the guest disciples – Jin Zixuan’s mother said that it was better that he wear plain colors, like white or black, to represent his father and mother and show the world that he hadn’t forgotten his filial piety. It didn’t seem to bother him that he had to room with the other servants, or that he wasn’t invited to dinner at the same time as the rest of them, or that he got less training time –

Whatever it was, it didn’t bother him.

It bothered Jin Zixuan, though.

He started having the old nightmares again – the ones where his mother belatedly found out that he’d been swapped in the cradle for another bastard child of Jin Guangshan, and started treating him just the way she treated all the rest of them while praising some other boy up to the heavens – and his temperament, never considered especially good, got worse due to lack of sleep.

“Go talk to him,” Mianmian suggested. “Maybe if you see he’s reallynot bothered by it…”

“It doesn’t matter if he’s not bothered,” Jin Zixuan muttered. “It’s that I would be bothered if I were him.”

She didn’t understand, of course. Most people didn’t.

They couldn’t understand why Jin Zixuan was so bothered by the knowledge that his parents’ love was conditional on his bloodline and legitimacy – after all, he was the beneficiary of that bias, wasn’t he? What did it matter to him if they were cold to others?

Jin Zixuan didn’t know how to explain that the problem was in knowing that their love was conditional.

It didn’t help that Wei Wuxian was excelling despite all his disadvantages – all their teachers praised him in private, or else when they thought that no one surnamed Jin was listening. All of his mother’s dark speculations about what his father would do if ever there was a bastard child brought back that turned out to be even more talented than he was rang in Jin Zixuan’s ears, and he couldn’t help but look at Wei Wuxian, and wonder if this was it, this was the moment, if he was finally going to be replaced…but no, that would never happen. He was the one with the right blood.

It didn’t matter if he wasn’t actually the best.

Nothing he did in life mattered, really. Nothing had ever mattered since the day he’d been born from the right womb.

“He’s actually really nice,” Mianmian said, and Jin Zixuan looked up, wondering what she was talking about, only to blanch when he realized that she was talking to Wei Wuxian. “Just shy, that’s all –”

“Mianmian!” Jin Zixuan hissed, rushing over, horrified. “He can’t be here! If my mother finds out –”

“Is that what you’re afraid of?” Wei Wuxian asked, his face brightening. “I thought you just didn’t like me!”

“I don’t know you,” Jin Zixuan said. “How could I dislike you? But really, my mother –”

“We can be friends!” Wei Wuxian declared, and Jin Zixuan was rendered immediately mute. What exactly could he say to that?

He wanted to be friends, too.

His mother found out, because she always found out, and when she did, she threatened to feed Wei Wuxian to the dogs.

It turned out that Wei Wuxian was scared of dogs, something Jin Zixuan’s mother had figured out pretty quickly. That wasn’t a surprise – she knew best how to find people’s weaknesses, and also how to use them. Looking at Wei Wuxian’s sickly pale face, it was clear to Jin Zixuan that this wasn’t the first time dogs had appeared in one of his mother’s punishment, although this was clearly more severe than in the past.

“It was my idea,” he lied, acting on impulse. “Mother, I want him to be my personal servant.”

“Ridiculous,” she scoffed.

“Why is it ridiculous?” he asked. “Wouldn’t the contrast between us only be magnified that way?”

She pursed her lips, but that wasn’t a ‘no’.

Seeing a possible waver, Jin Zixuan decided to trade away one of the very few point on which he and his mother had long disagree.

“He’s charming,” he said. “He can help me woo the Jiang sect girl.”

His mother knew him well enough to know that he was trying to manipulate her, but he also knew that she liked it when he did that. Men were supposed to be upright, straightforward, and virtuous, and yet she liked to see him being subtle and sly – it reminded her of herself. It made her feel like he was more her blood than his father’s, even though in actuality those traits could very well be his father’s, too.

Unfortunately, sneakiness wasn’t really in Jin Zixuan’s nature. Comparing his straightforward and even a little stupid self to his clever and cunning parents, he didn’t know who he took after – it was part of the reason he had so many nightmares about being some cuckoo’s child left in the Jin sect’s nest.

“Fine,” his mother said at last. “He gets one shot.”

Later, when she’d swept off, an empress with her retinue, Mianmian looked at Jin Zixuan with wide eyes. “But Jin-gongzi,” she said. “You don’t wantto marry the Jiang sect girl.”

“I’ve never met her,” Jin Zixuan hedged, which was also true but a little vaguer. He didn’t want to marry a girl he’d never met, one who was several years his elder and who had been described to him only as ‘nice’ and ‘average at best’, just because her mother was his mother’s old friend. He didn’t want his marriage to be yet another thing he had to do because he was someone’s child, rather than his own man.

He wasn’t going to get a choice, though, no matter what he did, just as always. Might as well use it for something good.

Wei Wuxian crashed into him a moment later, clutching him so tightly that it hurt.

“I’ll pay you back,” he promised, his voice tight. “I’ll make it up to you. I’ll be your best friend ever!”

“That’s good enough,” Jin Zixuan said, his face suddenly hot. “There doesn’t need to be anything more.”

Wei Wuxian really was very charming when they went to visit the Lotus Pier, far more charming than Jin Zixuan ever was or would be, and his future bride seemed positively enchanted by him, which was probably a bad thing.

Jin Zixuan felt he should probably do something about it, but he didn’t know what, so he just snuck off and went to go dip his feet into the river, something he almost never got the chance to go while at home.

“I’m sorry,” the Jiang sect heir, Jiang Cheng, said, sitting gingerly next to him.

Jin Zixuan looked at him sidelong, a little surprised. He’d thought that Jiang Cheng hated him. “What for?”

“My sister. Your half-brother.” Jiang Cheng looked uncomfortable. “I can’t even imagine growing up with someone who’d flirt with the person I was engaged to.”

Jin Zixuan thought it over, then shook his head. “I don’t think he likes her like that. Or her him, either,” he said, since it seemed like Jiang Cheng had misunderstood both Wei Wuxian and his own sister. “Wei Wuxian’s just – like that,” he added. “Always. Everyone loves him unless they’re specifically told not to.”

“That’s worse.” Jiang Cheng wrinkled his nose. “He’s the ‘other person’s child’ here, you know. My father really liked his parents – he’s always talking about him. My mother says he wishes he were his son, instead of your father’s.”

“Now that sounds awful.” Probably better for Wei Wuxian, though. Jiang Fengmian would probably treat him like a real son, not the way Jin Guangshan did, like a pawn or a liability or a bastard brought in just for his possible connections – but it would probably be much worse for Jiang Cheng, who’d have to live with that happening right in front of him. It seemed mean to wish for such a thing. “He’s actually pretty nice? We’re friends. I asked him to help me make friends with your sister…I’m not really good at making friends, when it’s just me.”

He hadn’t expected them to hit it off that well, though. At least to Jin Zixuan’s eyes, they’d clearly all but adopted each other as brother and sister the moment they laid eyes on each other…which in his opinion was actually a little bit worse, since he felt like he himself was still painfully trying to figure out what being a sibling was like, and maybe failing at it.

And in all honesty, he felt a little resentful at Wei Wuxian for being picked, too – or was it a little bereft? No one ever picked him just because they wanted to; it was all because of who he was.

Who his parents were.

“I can be your friend, too, if you like,” Jiang Cheng said. He was scowling into the distance. “A better one.”

“Uh,” Jin Zixuan said, startled. “Don’t you – not like me?”

“We’re friends now,” Jiang Cheng scowled at him. “Deal with it!”

Jin Zixuan liked Wei Wuxian a lot, and he liked Jiang Cheng, too, and Nie Huaisang, who he’d just met, fit in with the two of them as if they were three peas in a pod, so he guessed he must like him, too – but if those three endlessly chattering idiots didn’t shut up and let him study he was going to throw himself off some cliff in Gusu and be done with it.

“You really don’t mind me sitting here?” he asked Lan Wangji, who nodded.

Nodded and did not respond verbally – blissful silence!

Still, Jin Zixuan lingered a bit by the door to the peaceful little pavilion he’d found and thought to claim for himself as a secret study place – necessary on account of the fact that Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, and Nie Huaisang spent all their free time together making trouble instead of studying, because Wei Wuxian just did that to people, winning them over despite themselves and then leading them into mischief – only to learn that it belonged to Lan Wangji. It was filled with gentians, which were more Jiang Cheng’s color than Jin Zixuan’s, but Jin Zixuan had seen enough peonies for a lifetime and needed the concealment besides.

It was very kind of Lan Wangji to let him stay, but he still felt he ought to apologize.

And not just for the intrusion.

Wei Wuxian’s ignominious departure from Lan Qiren’s classroom had made it much more peaceful, but that had come at a cost to Lan Wangji’s own education and opportunity to make friends with others – and while Jin Zixuan liked Wei Wuxian a great deal, he wasn’t sure how Lan Wangji felt about being stuck having to monitor him all day.

And now Lan Wangji was being nice to Jin Zixuan, letting him disturb his privacy like this without complaint, and even agreeing to let him stay so that he’d have somewhere quiet to study…he really ought to say something. Maybe apologize for Wei Wuxian, if that was appropriate. It probably was: he was responsible for him, in his own way. The only problem was that he wasn’t sure how to start the conversation –

“Do you like Wei Wuxian?” he blurted out, then felt his face go bright red. He hadn’t meant to ask it that way! After all, who didn’t know how much Lan Wangji disliked Wei Wuxian? He was always glaring at him and saying he was speaking nonsense and telling him to get lost and –

Lan Wangji nodded.

Jin Zixuan blinked. He did? But then why –

“Oh,” he said, suddenly realizing. “You’re socially awkward, too!”

Lan Wangji frowned at him, and Jin Zixuan waved his hands.

“No, no, I don’t mean that as an insult,” he said hastily, trying to cover for his blunder. “It’s like me! I always say the wrong thing, so most of the time I try not to say anything – of course people always get the wrong idea anyway, thinking I’m being quiet because I’m looking down at them…Wei Wuxian’s getting better at understanding people, but he’s still not very good at it, either. I bet he has no idea! If you like him, you should say as much.”

Lan Wangji shook his head.

“…I could say it for you, if you want?”

Even more urgent head-shaking.

Honestly, if Lan Wangji were a woman, Jin Zixuan would’ve thought that he had a crush.

As it was, he was probably just like Jin Zixuan: naturally awkward, and shy about it, too.

“It’s all right,” he said encouragingly. “Next time they throw a party, you can come and sit with me; we can have tea and pretend not to know them. It’s what I always do.”

Lan Wangji stared at him for a long moment, and then finally nodded very slowly.

“I appreciate the offer,” he said, voice neutral. “Thank you.”

When the time came and the Wen sect pushed things too far, naturally Jin Zixuan stood up for Mianmian.

Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, and Lan Wangji all did, too.

Naturally, this made Jin Zixuan feel like complete crap on their account – Mianmian was his friend, his sect, and naturally he had a responsibility towards her; the rest of them were just helping because they were good people, and good friends. But at this point they’d done it, and Wen Chao was angry at them all over it, and there was nothing to be done about it.

And then there was the Xuanwu of Slaughter, and they were all trapped inside with it.

Sometimes, he really hated the Wen sect. Often, even.

“Jiang Cheng, you and Jin Zixuan lead the way out,” Wei Wuxian instructed. “No, don’t protest! You’re heirs of Great Sects; everyone will follow you and listen to you, and that’s critical – you’ll need to evade the Wen sect’s efforts to recapture you. That means cohesion, and cohesion means hierarchy. I’ll stay behind to distract the Xuanwu…”

“That’s a terrible idea,” Jiang Cheng exclaimed.

Jin Zixuan nudged him. “Wei Wuxian’s usually right about this sort of thing,” he reminded him. It was a good thing they’d gotten over that period in their lives when Jiang Cheng thought Wei Wuxian was an evil thief who wanted to take away his older sister and Jin Zixuan’s rightful spouse, when they’d fought all the time while Jin Zixuan desperately tried to get between them. He still had no idea what magic alchemy had happened that had suddenly made them best friends – he suspected Mianmian, or maybe Jiang Yanli – but he was deeply grateful for it. “And we can’t risk the majority. Preserve human life above all else, remember? Teacher Lan’s lessons were very clear.”

“I will remain with Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said, to no one’s surprise. They’d been more or less inseparable after Jin Zixuan had recruited Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang to help them get along better after Wei Wuxian’s temporary exile to the Library Pavilion had ended. It helped that Lan Qiren had pulled Wei Wuxian aside for personal lessons to help him catch up with the rest of them, and that those had somehow metamorphosed into afternoon sessions about inventing new types of musical cultivation techniques in which Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were the most enthusiastic, and only, students.

Best of all, it had given the rest of them a chance to finally actually do their work.

Well, not Nie Huaisang, but that was only to be expected.

“But your leg –” Wei Wuxian started, and Jin Zixuan nudged him.

“He’ll only be more worried if you don’t let him stay back and join you,” he said reasonably. “Anyway, it’s good for you to have an incentive not to detour into some big flashy heroic bullshit.”

“Awww, but Jin Zixuan, I like big flashy heroic bullshit!”

Jin Zixuan was, by this point, almost entirely convinced that Wei Wuxian actually was the biological child of Wei Changze, and that his father had lied, both about the man’s supposed infertility and possibly about having slept with Cangse Sanren at all. From Jiang Cheng’s stories, inherited from his father, it seemed that Wei Changze was also the sort of person who went in for big flashy heroic bullshit and reckless humor, the sort that would win him a disciple of an immortal mountain as a bride; it certainly seemed more likely than him sharing blood with Jin Zixuan or his father or even Jin Zixun, all of whom tended towards arrogance, but whose flash was all in their clothing.

Not that it mattered at this late date, of course. They were brothers now – as Nie Huaisang would put it, there were no takebacks allowed.

“No bullshit, you hear me?” Jin Zixuan repeated, looking pointedly at Wei Wuxian. “Not allowed. Take care of yourself, okay? Don’t make me have to tell Mistress Jiang that I lost her favorite idiot friend.”

“You tell her?” Jiang Cheng grumbled. “I’ll have to tell her. All right, let’s go.”

Jiang Yanli was not impressed with the fact that they’d left Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji alone in a cave with a giant murderous turtle.

She still made them soup and gave them bandages to wrap up their bloody feet, though.

(Jin Zixuan was never going to make a good impression on her, no matter what Jiang Cheng said.)

“Wen Chao has demanded recompense for the mess at the Nightless City,” Jin Zixuan’s mother said, reading a letter. Her lips curled up in a strange little smile. “He said Wei Wuxian’s right hand would do.”

“Mother,” Jin Zixuan exclaimed, leaping to his feet with his eyes wide. He’d only been home a week from the indoctrination camp, and Wei Wuxian was still lying in bed most of the time, pretending he wasn’t exhausted; Wen Chao must have sent the letter almost immediately after he’d realized they’d escaped. “You can’t be serious!”

“Why not?” she asked. “It’s just what the little bastard deserves, always trying to outshine you.”

Jin Zixuan shook his head, frantically trying to think of a way out of this, because he knew his mother wouldn’t so much as hesitate to order such an atrocity. She’d never forgiven Wei Wuxian for the possibility of being a threat to Jin Zixuan’s position, however remote the chance, and she’d tried very hard to convince Jin Zixuan of it, too – it was the only thing they didn’t agree on, the only thing Jin Zixuan didn’t yield to her on, and he hated every moment of it.

But not as much as his mother hated it.

It was the only thing she couldn’t control in his life, and she hatedit, and hated Wei Wuxian for it, too.

(She couldn’t hate Jin Zixuan. She couldn’t, because he had the right blood, because he was her son, because he was the heir of Lanling Jin and the source of all her power. But sometimes, when the light was dim and she glanced over too quickly and thought she saw his father when she looked at him, he thought that she wanted to.)

“You can’t be serious,” Jin Zixuan said a second time, keeping calm by sheer willpower. No one but him would dare to object if his mother made a move, especially in his father’s absence…and even if his father was there, Jin Zixuan wasn’t sure his father cared enough about Wei Wuxian to endure another fight with his fearsome wife. “Mother, he’s my servant – my responsibility. Whatever he does is my responsibility, whether to my credit or to my deficit. That’s how that works. They may be asking for Wei Wuxian’s hand, but who’s to say, when they come to claim it, that they won’t seek mine instead?”

“They wouldn’t dare.”

“It’s the Wen sect,” Jin Zixuan reminded her. “What don’t they dare?”

She pursed her lips, thinking it over, and for a moment he thought he’d won. “Perhaps,” she allowed, and before he could even breath a sight of relief continued, “But no matter. They’ve set the price, and we can pay it, so why not? We can cut off his hand and send it to them as a peace offering in advance. After all, they’re important allies of ours, and he’s just a bastard.”

“But –”

“No, A-Xuan. No more arguing; I’ve decided.” Her smile broadened. “We’ll do it now.”

Jin Zixuan couldn’t fight with his mother. He’d never had the courage – he was as spineless as his father.

Almost as spineless.

“Yes, Mother,” he said, and drew his sword.

“A-Xuan..?”

“My servant, my responsibility,” he reminded her, and he knew that she’d misunderstood, that she thought that he was going to go take care of the grim task himself. He knew, because for a brief moment in time she looked happy – not true joy, but the only way she ever looked happy for as long as he could remember, like she’d won one over on someone and gotten her way despite everyone’s efforts. He hated to disappoint her. “I have my honor to think of, too.”

Jin Zixuan sent Wei Wuxian to the Lotus Pier, bearing words of warning. His father’s spies had reported that the Wen sect would probably target them first, using Jiang Cheng’s interference in the Xuanwu cave as an excuse – there wasn’t any point going after the Lan sect a second time, and the Jin sect were longstanding allies of Wen Ruohan, with Jin Guangshan being a coward at heart; if Wen Ruohan could keep him out of the inevitable war for a little longer by playing nice, he would.

Word came back not long after that they’d been right: the Lotus Pier had been destroyed.

It also said that Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli were missing – missing, but not dead. It didn’t say anything about their parents, and that was suspicious, too.

Maybe sending Wei Wuxian had helped after all.

“We should reach out to the Nie sect,” Jin Zixuan told his father. “With our money and their strength, we can resist the Wen sect long enough for the smaller sects to catch up.”

“The Wen sect is all-powerful,” his father objected. “What’s even the point of resisting? We’d be better off reaching out to them to see if we can reach a peaceful agreement.”

“We’ve already seen what agreement they want to reach,” Jin Zixuan said, and his father’s gaze dropped guiltily to his waist. Jin Zixuan didn’t bother looking down himself. He didn’t do that much, these days. “Am I your heir or am I not? You promised me that I’d inherit a sect, not slavery. Reach out to the Nie sect.”

Jin Zixuan should not talk that way to his father. He had always been a filial son, and a spineless one; his father’s son, and nothing else. The only thing he had going for him was the right blood – and even that wasn't that sure a bet, these days. He knew his father was already thinking about Jin Zixun in a way that suggested that all those rumors about his ‘cousin’ having a different father than the one everyone said he had might have some merit.

It seemed, though, that when pushed to it, he was also his mother’s son.

He hoped she choked on the knowledge.

“Reach out to the Nie sect,” he said again. “With all the cultivation world uniting, the Wen sect’s fall is inevitable. If we don’t act now, we’ll be seen as cowards, hanging back and waiting to see how things fall out to eke out the best advantage – if we act, we’ll be seen as heroes.”

“But what if you’re wrong, and the Wen sect does win?”

“Then we’ll tell Sect Leader Wen that we’re perfectly positioned to negotiate the other sects’ terms of surrender, and use that to win anyway,” Jin Zixuan said, less because he thought that was an acceptable course of action and more because he knew it would be what his father would do anyway. “Call the Nie sect.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Jiang Cheng hissed, wild-eyed, and Jin Zixuan blinked at him, taken aback.

“Is it because I wasn’t able to do more to help with the Lotus Pier?” he asked, feeling helpless. “I really did try to convince my father to send more people, but I barely even got him not to block my sending Wei Wuxian –”

“Not because of that!”

Jin Zixuan took a step back. “Uh, then –”

“You cut off your own hand you maniac!”

“The situation –” Jin Zixuan started backing up. “It was necessary – Wei Wuxian, help!”

“No, he’s right,” Wei Wuxian said, arms crossed. His eyes were teary, but they’d been that way since he’d left Jinlin Tower – ever since the Wen sect’s letter. “You’re a maniac, and Jiang Cheng’s going to kill you, and you’re going to deserve it.”

Lan Wangji, standing beside him, nodded.

“It’s not that bad, really.” Jin Zixuan tried to explain. “My mother and father would never have accepted anything else – threats to me are the only thing that work on them, and even that’s stopped working after all these years. Only a real injury would have an impact. If they hadn’t been so shocked, they would’ve just continued to ignore what the Wen sect was doing, or offered them an olive branch, and then then the Wen sect would’ve used that as an opportunity to come and divide up everyone else. We’d lose precious time to regroup, and the Wen sect would only get stronger and stronger –”

“You. Cut. Off. Your. Hand!”

“The Wen sect demanded the hand of the person who started the rebellion in the Xuanwu cave,” Jin Zixuan said quietly. “That was me, not Wei Wuxian. Why should he pay my debts?”

Everyone still seemed very upset, but maybe a little less murderous. Definitely a lot more teary-eyed.

“Couldn’t you have at least picked your other hand?” Wei Wuxian mumbled. “Your right hand – that’s your sword arm.”

Jin Zixuan shrugged. “They demanded the right hand,” he said. “Anyway, it’s fine, I’ve been using my left, and it’s been going smoothly enough…you know, I think I might actually be left-handed? I never knew; everyone always made me use my right.”

“Does it hurt?” Lan Wangji asked suddenly, and Jin Zixuan hesitated, not sure how to respond to that.

Unfortunately, everyone else took that in the worst way possible, and insisted on taking care of him, no matter how much he tried to explain that it didn’t hurt, not really, not anymore; it was just the strangest feeling of absence. Like something that had always been there wasn’t there anymore.

A bit like his mother. She wasn’t talking to him anymore.

He was a terrible son, and would probably end up spending eternity in some afterlife hell being tortured for failing to properly honor his parents.

He’d already resigned himself.

“How are your parts of the war going?” he asked, trying to change the subject. “Chifeng-zun says it’s going well, but you know how he is; it’s all business with him, you never hear any stories. Did Wei Wuxian really knock out old Sect Leader Jiang when he refused to leave the Lotus Pier? Tell me he didn’t.”

“He did,” Jiang Cheng said, and he looked amused about it – maybe he’d be in the next boiling pot over in the afterlife of unfilial descendants. “He was a little frantic, you see, on account of not wanting to fail you by letting them die. After all, you had just cut off your own hand for him…”

“Are you ever going to let that drop?”

“Sure. As soon as you have two hands again.”

“…so, never.”

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng said patiently. “Never. Never ever, if that makes it clearer for you.”

Jin Zixuan’s new hand was made of steel and wire, under the gilding, and functioned using some of the innovative new talismans that Wei Wuxian had invented. He couldn’t help but hope that they weren’t part of the subset that constituted demonic cultivation because people were being really weird about that.

“It’s like people wanted for me to just die in the Burial Mounds,” Wei Wuxian complained. He was dressed in black and grey and red, which he’d apparently adopted as his new sect colors – Jin Zixuan had only managed to send him out of Lanling the first time by officially ejecting him from the Jin sect, a decision his father had initially endorsed but now, he suspected, was regretting.

It was a lot easier to throw out a servant than it was to invite back the founder of demonic cultivation, especially now that he was a war hero and a sect leader.

“You didn’t have to be in the Burial Mounds to begin with,” Jin Zixuan reminded him, to no avail. “I know I said I needed an army because my father wasn’t supplying us properly, but I didn’t mean ‘invent an entirely new cultivation technique and raise an army of the dead’. You know that, right?”

Wei Wuxian shrugged it off, because of course he did.

“You know, they’re calling me the Yiling Patriarch?” he said, and grinned. “It’s because the Burial Mounds are in Yiling, and because I’m founding my own sect. Or whatever. Like I wouldn’t be supporting you, anyway.”

“It has to be your own sect because otherwise you might be forced to share your secret techniques,” Jin Zixuan explained, not for the first time. “Rogue cultivators don’t have the same protections that sects do, even small sects. It doesn’t matter if you’re the only person in it. Or, well, you and Lan Wangji, I guess.”

“I still can’t believe he’s willing to leave the Lan sect to join me,” Wei Wuxian sighed happily. “He’s such a good friend.”

Jin Zixuan wasn’t sure about the strength of his new hand, which was the only reason he didn’t try to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. “You’re a bad influence, you know,” he said instead of trying to explain to Wei Wuxian that people didn’t generally leave their natal sects for the sake of a ‘good friend’. “I nearly hit a girl the other day.”

“You did? You? What’d she do?”

“She gave me soup and implied that she’d made it,” Jin Zixuan said. “Except it tasted exactly the same as the soup Mistress Jiang is always making for you – I’ve had it recently enough to know. Sure enough, I push the issue a bit and it turns out it was Mistress Jiang’s. The girl was just trying to claim credit as an excuse to get close to me.”

He sighed. He’d been so angry about it. They were at war! People were dying, losing their homes, losing everything, and this stupid girl could only think about how to plot and scheme to try to get to a prized position as the future Madame Jin. Had his mother done the same, when it’d been his father…?

“You’ve had shijie’s soup recently?” Wei Wuxian asked. His expression looked slightly odd. “Shijie made you soup?”

“Yeah, I think she’s been dropping off whatever’s left over at my tent when she’s done,” Jin Zixuan said, shaking his head. Jiang Yanli was so nice, really truly genuinely nice. He’d never met anyone like her. “Could you thank her for me? I appreciate the thoughtfulness – it’s filling enough that I don’t need to go to the mess, which means there’s more left over for everyone else.”

“…sure,” Wei Wuxian said. “I’ll tell her. Or, and here’s a thought – why don’t you tell her yourself?”

“Why would I? You’re the one she likes,” Jin Zixuan said, puzzled. “I mean, you’re her adopted little brother, aren’t you? She’s practically your second soulmate, after Lan Wangji.”

“I’m really busy,” Wei Wuxian announced, despite having been lazing around complaining that they didn’t have any encounters with the Wen sect lined up for a whole week only a few moments before. “I couldn’t possibly take the time out of my schedule to go talk to her – you see, I’ve had an idea, which is going to keep me very busy…in fact, I’m not even going to be here at all! I need to go to the Lan sect encampment to consult with Teacher Lan.”

Discovering that Lan Qiren had a mad scientist streak when it came to musical cultivation had been extremely disquieting, Jin Zixuan reflected. The world might’ve been better off if Lan Qiren had never had a chance to actually get friendly with Wei Wuxian – Wei Wuxian provided the terrible ideas, Lan Qiren scolded him about them and then helped him smooth the kinks out of them anyway.

Teacher for a day, father for a lifetime…

“All right,” Jin Zixuan said, though he still didn’t exactly understand what had just happened. “I’ll go talk to her, I guess.”

“I just wanted to make sure you know you’re not obligated to make me soup or anything,” Jin Zixuan said, not sure where this conversation had gone off the rails.

Probably around the time that Jiang Yanli had started smiling at him, because he always turned into an idiot whenever that happened. She was so very nice, not just average at all no matter what anyone said, and blissfully down-to-earth – she wouldn’t be wasting her time and everyone else’s thinking about how to politically advance herself despite there being a war on. She spent all her time learning field medicine and helping cook meals for the mess and –

And he’d better stop thinking because he was turning red again.

“I enjoy making soup for you,” Jiang Yanli said peaceably. “Especially since I know you enjoy it, too.”

“I do! It’s just, I don’t know, you already do so much, with the medics and organizing and everything…It’s – uh – I – listen, I know our parents – you don’t have to pay attention to that. I only have one hand, I’m not – don’t feel obligated, not because of that. And don’t let Wei Wuxian make you think making soup is the only thing you’re good for, no matter how much he likes it, okay? You do so much more than just that!”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, covering her smile with her hand. “You’re very sweet, you know.”

Jin Zixuan made an incoherent sound.

He would need to do something in return, he thought, a little frantic; he really didn’t know how to deal with a sincere compliment from someone he actually liked. Maybe poetry? Girls were said to like poetry. He couldn’t write poetry worth a damn, but he could pay someone –

She kissed him on the cheek.

All thought abruptly departed.

“Don’t worry, it’s not inappropriate – after all, we’re already engaged,” Jiang Yanli said cheerfully. “Which I’m very good with, so don’t worry about that. Good luck in your next battle, Jin-gongzi.”

At some point she must have left, because she wasn’t there anymore, and Jin Zixuan was still opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water.

Mianmian peeked in, then snickered. “Oh no,” she said. “She broke him. Everyone! Come look! She totally broke him!”

“Did you actually cut off your hand to save a servant?” Jin Guangyao asked.

“It was a bit more complicated than that,” Jin Zixuan said, uncomfortable, then added, “Welcome to the family.”

Jin Guangyao smiled.

For some reason, Jin Zixuan felt a shiver run up his spine. He didn’t think he liked this new brother of his, and he felt bad about it – he’d welcomed Wei Wuxian whole-heartedly, hadn’t he? Was it really that different when it actually was someone of his own blood?

He didn’t like that thought.

“I hope we can be friends,” he said, willing it to be true, and Jin Guangyao murmured something agreeable in return.

Jin Zixuan wished he liked him.

“My mother is going to hate you,” he said, because he knew that she would. “If she does, let me know, and I’ll try to stop her…not just her. If anyone treats you wrong, just tell me. I’ll stand up for you.”

Jin Guangyao smiled again.

“You’re so kind,” he said, and for some reason Jin Zixuan had the feeling that he didn’t mean it at all.

Jin Zixuan had been engaged since before he was born, and it still somehow came as a surprise to find himself married. Not just the event, either – these days he woke up with his wife in his arms and was forced to just stare at her lying there in the soft morning light and wonder how he got so lucky.

He was married.

To a very nice girl, who actually seemed to like him a great deal – she’d made that clear enough when she’d had a chance. Very clear, in fact, which was why there was also a very slight curve in her belly that meant that soon enough he wouldn’t just be married, but a father.

“You’d tell me if I was dreaming, right?” he asked Wei Wuxian, who was visiting again. He did that a lot, but in fairness he didn’t really have a settled place to live – everyone knew the supposed ‘sect’ he’d founded was little more than a sham. He’d been technically kicked out of the Jin sect and refused all offers to rejoin, and it seemed he wasn’t quite ready to scandalize the entire cultivation world by marrying into the Lan sect no matter what Lan Xichen had been hinting. Sometimes he and Lan Wangji spent time at the Lotus Pier with Jiang Cheng, or the Unclean Realm with Nie Huaisang under Nie Mingjue’s long-suffering gaze…everyone called Wei Wuxian the Yiling Patriarch, on account of him ‘founding’ his sect there – or rather, summoning up extra resentful energy from the Burial Mounds for the purposes of obtaining an army while minimizing the number of disturbed graves – but he wasn’t, not really. He didn’t live there or anything.

Who would want to live there?

“I would,” Wei Wuxian agreed, but he didn’t follow it up with teasing or anything the way he usually did.

He just looked very uncharacteristically perturbed.

“What is it?” Jin Zixuan asked. “Can I help?”

“No heroic bullshit,” Wei Wuxian said at once, which meant that there was a possibility of heroic bullshit. Given Wei Wuxian’s personality, that also meant that it was heroic bullshit that would be bad for the Jin sect, which he still felt bad about on account of them raising him and all…in all honesty, it might be a good thing in the long run that Jin Zixuan’s father and mother had been so awful to Wei Wuxian as a kid, and that he’d known it. If they’d been good to him, he never would have been willing to leave. “But, uh, remember Wen Ning?”

Jin Zixuan blinked. Wei Wuxian had told him some stories: a junior disciple of the Wen sect, from a branch family – Dafan Wen – who’d helped Wei Wuxian out a few times when he’d been smuggling the Jiang clan to freedom.

More than a few times: he’d been Wei Wuxian’s first disciple in matters of resentful energy, which Wei Wuxian had apparently been thinking of since forever and started playing around with more or less the moment he was no longer officially tied to a sect, and had been a valuable contact during the early period of the war before events had changed and he’d been lost.

“Yes,” he said. “What about him?”

He hadn’t thought of Wen Ning in ages, beyond abstractly hoping he was doing well. It might be hard, with a surname as he had, but surely there was somewhere in the cultivation world for those surnamed Wen – Wei Wuxian had argued fiercely in favor of leniency for the remaining Wen cultivators, and the Lan sect had backed him, thanks to Lan Wangji. The rest of them had been exhausted, Nie Mingjue, Lan Xichen, Jiang Cheng and his parents, even Jin Zixuan…his father had ended up volunteering their sect to help with resettlement of the refugees, which had been a pleasant surprise.

Sure, Jin Zixuan knew his father well enough to know that he was only doing it for the clout and possible advantage it would give him, but he was pretty sure the Wen civilians didn’t especially care why they were going to get a reprieve from death and a new place to live, only that they did.

“I’ll get there,” Wei Wuxian said. “It’s a bit complicated…you know how Jin Zixun’s in charge of resettlement?”

Jin Zixuan nodded, puzzled. “What about it?”

“You can’t do that!” one of the guards shouted at Wei Wuxian. “We’re disciples of the Jin sect –”

“Is that so,” Jin Zixuan said, and they all turned to look at him, each one of them blanching in utter horror. “And why didn’t I know that my Jin sect had such people as you?”

“Where’s Wen Ning?” Wen Qing asked Wei Wuxian, looking desperate. “I don’t see him…Where is he?!”

“That monster?” one of the guards blurted out.

“My brother is not a monster!”

“He’s been hiding in the woods,” one of the Wen civilians volunteered. “He’s been raiding the camp, rescuing people who are being abused –”

“Our response was reasonable in light of his aggression,” the guard argued. “He used demonic cultivation – he’s a monster! We had no choice –”

“We’re going to need to question them,” Jin Zixuan said to Lan Wangji, who was looking faintly murderous in his usual righteous sort of way. “To find out who’s their backing – Jin Zixun wouldn’t have dared something like this, not on his own. Can you bind them for me?”

It was his father.

Of course.

“A-Yao, what do you want?” Jin Zixuan asked, and Jin Guangyao stopped in his tracks, staring at him in confusion – as well he should, since he’d only come into Jin Zixuan’s study in order to say good morning on his way to breakfast. “No, sorry, that’s not what I meant. I meant, you know, in life.”

Jin Guangayo blinked at him.

Probably not the best question to spring on someone before breakfast, Jin Zixuan reflected.

“It’s about the trouble that my – that our father got into,” Jin Zixuan explained. “The other cultivation sects are furious to no end that he took advantage of their trust in order to do such a disgraceful thing…I’ve ordered Zixun to be confined for now, and I suspect he’ll have to be banished to some country house for a few years. And as you know, my father will be retiring soon and handing over the position of sect leader to me…”

Neither of them especially wanted that to happen, his father as loathe to give up power as Jin Zixuan was to take it. But what other solution was there after such a scandal?

The Lan sect, ever concerned with morality, had been horrified when they’d found out what had happened; the Jiang sect, despite their close relationship to the Jin sect, had immediately denounced it, and Jiang Yanli, who was Wei Wuxian’s friend, was the very first to speak. The Nie sect, never a firm ally for the Jin sect, was growling about righteousness, and if Nie Mingjue was sincere about that being his only concern – and having worked with the man, Jin Zixuan believed he was – then there were plenty of others in the Nie sect that had their eyes on the greater influence and power that would accrue to their sect if Jin Zixuan’s father were allowed to bring his sect down with him.

Handing over power was the only way to make sure their Jin sect remained strong.

“He won’t be alone, at least,” Jin Zixuan sighed. “I won him that much.”

Jiang Fengmian had agreed to step down from his position as sect leader as well, making it seem as though Jin Guangshan’s retirement were voluntary, part of a joint agreement of the older generation handing over power to the newer. Everyone would know in their hearts that that wasn’t the case, but it would be far less shameful than the alternative – saving a little bit of his father’s face.

“You did well,” Jin Guangyao said, listening with a neutral expression. “In uncovering everything, and revealing it.”

“I would’ve brought you in to help, but I couldn’t,” Jin Zixuan explained. “I know he asked you to help in finding demonic cultivators to join the Jin sect, and…”

He hesitated.

“He implicated me?” Jin Guangyao asked.

He had. Their father was shameless: he’d even sought to move all blame to Jin Guangyao’s back, whether as the actual mastermind or, when that was rejected, as the inciter of the scheme. Nonsense, of course.

Anyway, it didn’t matter. Even if Jin Guangyao had suggested it, it would have been his father’s responsibility to refuse.

“No one believes it,” Jin Zixuan said, which was only partially a lie. “Even Chifeng-zun laughed in his face and said you wouldn’t be nearly that stupid.”

Jin Guangyao looked – oddly pleased by that, if Jin Zixuan had to guess.

“Still, it’s awkward,” he said, rubbing his head. “People talk, and our subsidiary sects have never been as quiet as some others…you don’t have to tell me right now what you’re planning, or what you want in the long term. But maybe – uh – you have two sworn brothers. Is there any chance…”

“I could go visit them for a while?”

Jin Zixuan smiled helplessly. “I wish it weren’t necessary. And if you did know what you wanted, I could take it into account when planning the future…”

“No, no,” Jin Guangyao said. “Visiting my sworn brothers will be – fine.” He looked thoughtful. “You said Chifeng-zun didn’t think I was involved?”

“Zewu-jun was also vociferous in your defense,” Jin Zixuan said, trying to elide the fact that it wasn’t so much that Nie Mingjue didn’t think Jin Guangyao was capable of such atrocities, but rather that he declared, and loudly, that if Jin Guangyao had intended to do something horrific like that, he’d have handled it better. Judging by Jin Guangyao’s amused expression, he might have guessed anyway. “I appreciate your understanding.”

Jin Guangyao smiled.

Jin Zixuan thought he might even mean it, this time.

“I’m an uncle!” Wei Wuxian crowed, holding Jin Ling in his arms. “I’m an uncle, I’m an uncle!”

“Big deal,” Jiang Cheng grumbled, which would be more convincing if he wasn’t beaming foolishly. “So am I. Hand him over...hey, A-Ling! It's me, your jiujiu!”

“Can I be an honorary uncle?” Nie Huaisang asked – Jin Zixuan had no idea when he’d even arrived, or why he was here, or anything, really, but that was probably because he hadn’t really slept on account of over-excitement. “I mean, my brother’s sworn brothers with Jin-xiong’s brother, so it works, right?”

“That’s ridiculous –” Jiang Cheng started.

“No, I love it!” Wei Wuxian immediately declared. “That means Lan Zhan’s his uncle, too!”

“Wei Wuxian…!”

“Don’t worry,” Jin Zixuan said, hugging Jiang Cheng out of sheer excitement. “You’re his only jiujiu, right? Everyone else is related through me, so they have to share.”

Jiang Cheng seemed pleased by that, and Wei Wuxian laughed.

Nie Huaisang was calculating on his fingers. “You know,” he said thoughtfully. “This might be the most well-connected baby in the entire cultivation world? The only thing we’re missing is the Wen sect…Jiang-xiong, how about you marry Wen Qing? Then we’d have them all!”

“That is not how I’m determining my marriage!” Jiang Cheng yelped, but notably didn’t reject the idea.

Jin Zixuan looked at Jiang Yanli, who looked back at him, and they both started laughing.

There was more noise after that, and eventually Jin Ling woke up and started crying, making everyone start fussing like a bunch of old hens surrounding a long-suffering Jiang Yanli who’d already grown accustomed to it in a way the rest of them hadn’t.

It suddenly occurred to Jin Zixuan that everyone who was here was here because they wanted to be. Not because of his name or his wealth, not because he was Sect Leader Jin, not because of the circumstances of his birth, but just because they liked him – because they wanted to celebrate with him, and to cherish his child, to share his joy.

It was a good day.

All the days were a little good, but this one was especially good.

#mdzs #jin zixuan #wei wuxian #mianmian #jiang cheng #lan wangji #jin guangyao #jiang yanli #my fic #my fics #right hand man

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justfandomwritings · 3 years

Text

By The Norns (Part One - Soulmate!Loki)

Pairing: Loki x Reader, Soulmates AU

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: Nobody was harmed in any way in the making of this story... but there was some arson.

Summary: She wasn’t a goddess. She wasn’t even an elf or a dwarf. She was a mortal, a Midgardian, a human. To Odin, she was a curse. To Loki, she was a second chance.

Notes: Don’t worry. Despite what the chapter and the description may make you think anyone whose read my stories before will know I am not a fan of soulmate aus that take away the character’s choice. This chapter is set up. Stick with me on this. I promise. Posted in honor of @muna1412 being very excited at the prospect of another soulmate au.

This is not related to Loyalty in any way... I just have an unhealthy obsession with Soulmate aus.

Fate was a funny, fickle thing. Loki knew that much. After all, he’d met her.

Them, to be more precise. The Norns.

Urdr, Skuld, and Verdandi were their names: Past, Present, and Future, as they should be known.

It was they who watered the tree, and they who grew its leaves. The task fell to the Norns to write, shape, create, and control the fate of every being under the branches of Yggdrasil.

A poor, dwarven craftsman working on the surface of Nidavellir, a beautiful, golden elf living on a hill in Alfheim, a meager, puny human scurrying around the surface of Midgard. It was they who made the dwarf rich, who killed the elf in his sleep, who let the human sow the land. They did not exchange the gold; they did not wield the dagger; they did not draw the plow. But it was by their hand, by their grace and mercy, that the worlds turned, that life waxed and waned, that the Realms drew breath.

Every birth was through their will. Every death was by their hand, and everything in between was because they decided it would be so.

All fell under the gaze of the Norns. The kitchen cook, Andhrimnir, who served the Aesir’s table at night, owed everything to the Norns. They allowed his birth into Asgard. They raised him above the station of a lowly tavern boy. They gifted him the family he cradled so dearly to his chest.

Odin, King of the Nine Realms, Protector of Asgard, owed everything to the Norns. He was born by their choice. He survived a thousand battles because they said he would do so. He married Frigga because they put her on his path. His sons…

Well, one of his sons.

Loki knew the exact moment Odin stopped looking at him as a son, the exact moment Odin chose Thor over him, the exact moment Odin turned his back on him, the exact moment his father marked him disappointment.

It was, like all things, the doing of the Fates. The Norns.

Fates were theirs to command from the highest branches of Yggdrasil down to its very roots. From king to beggar, slave to master, aristocrat to pauper, farmer to merchant, sailor to soldier. From Loki to her. She was their doing.

Love was an inevitable part of life. Not even the Norns, with all of the power of the gods and then some, could stop that. Humans, Aesir, Elves, Vanir, the sentient beings of the Nine Realms felt an overwhelming urge towards emotion, and one of the strongest, one of the most inevitable, was love.

They couldn’t stop it, but they could direct it.

It fell under the purview of Fate to decide who one loved. People, god and mortal alike, fell in and out of love all the time.

Sometimes, though, every now and then, the Norns would reach down and touch two beings. The Norns would take two souls in two bodies and braid them together, weave them together, mold them together, as if they were one.

Those who knew magic well, those like Loki, could see them, watch them, doing this.

They could see Urdr floating, invisible amongst them, deciding the pair. They could see Skuld, plucking up their souls. They could see Verdandi tying them together.

Loki watched them when they took his soul.

“Mother, Mother,” Loki tugged on his other’s silk skirts and pointed up into the rafters of the Grand Hall. “What’s that?”

Frigga followed her son’s gaze and gasped. Magic was not her proficiency, though what little she had she wielded well. She had enough to see the Norns, floating ghostlike in the air over her younger son. She had enough to see his soul in their hands, and another at their side.

In the old days, before that fateful night, it was considered an honor to be chosen by the Norns. It was a guarantee of a great, powerful destiny in the future. It was a promise of passion, understanding, and respect on the horizon. It was the mark of one who would know true love.

The Midgardians called them soulmates. The Aesir called them the destined.

“The Norns have touched Loki,” Frigga whispered to Odin at her side. “They are gifting him a match.”

“With who?” Odin asked because he could not see them for himself.

Frigga squinted in the direction of the apparitions tying together Loki’s future. “I cannot tell. She appears to be…” Frigga’s eyes whipped around to Odin, “Midgardian.”

Odin turned up his nose and sniffed.

Midgard. The word, the world, that had sentenced Loki to a lifetime of second best.

His ‘destined’, his ‘soulmate’, his curse.

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It was centuries before the soul tied to Loki’s found the body it would spend its own life in.

(Y/n), her parents named her.

They weren’t sure why they named her that. When asked, they said they saw the name once in a book. Or was it on the tv? Or in a dream?

Neither could really remember. All they knew was that, as she grew, the name suited her perfectly. Almost as if fate itself had chosen it for her.

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For centuries, millennia even, her soul had been lingering on the edges of reality, existing but not quite feeling. She floated through time and space, following the ties that bound her to existence, waiting.

By the time her soul entered her body on Earth, she had existed longer than any other Midgardian ever had or would in all of history. She had lingered for years just out of reach of one of the most powerful beings on Asgard, her soulmate. Lifetimes had passed her by in the blink of an eye, and though she didn’t remember any of them, they remembered her.

Her soul hovered above its mate, basking in the magic that dissipated into the air around him like smoke. She breathed it in, soaked it in, drew it in.

In many ways, even subconsciously, she showed her age, her mate.

Even as a baby, she never woke her mother up screaming, to the jealousy of her mom’s friends. She was the model toddler, even through her terrible twos. She almost never cried and rarely threw temper tantrums. They called her a prodigy when she started speaking in full sentences before time doctors even expected her to be learning her first words, and they called her a genius when she learned to read full children’s books while other kids were still struggling through their first alphabet flashcards. Even though she ran around playing in the mud or splashing in puddles, somehow her clothes were always pristine. She taught herself faster than the teachers could and skipped two grades in elementary school alone. She was suspiciously charismatic for such a little girl and made, literally, hundreds of dollars off her lemonade stand. She listened to a family speaking another language in the store once and ran up to them to answer a question they had; when her parents asked her how she’d learned to understand or say that in another language, she had no idea what they were talking about and seemingly hadn’t even realized she’d done it.

And yet there were other things, darker things.

When she was born, the nurses didn’t question the little shock of static that jolted through them as they held her. No one commented how, in the right light, the baby’s eyes could look terrifyingly aware. She lied as easily as she breathed and almost never got caught. A girl made fun of her friend's hair once at school, and that night ended up being rushed to the hospital by her parents with all the signs of a heart attack in a five year old child. She liked having things her way, and even when her parents refused her, they always found themselves oddly compelled to do whatever it was anyways. She had an affinity for snakes that often found her letting them in the house. The pranks she pulled on her little brother sometimes got out of hand and often resulted in loud crashes and screams, though by the time any adult arrived nothing ever seemed broken. Her father used to joke that she must be some kind of shape shifter because he swore that, from day to day, her eye would change their color. Sometimes, when he looked in them, he swore they weren’t his daughters, but when he blinked and looked back they always returned to normal.

Most of it was written off as the simple oddities of a child or exaggerations of first time parents.

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Superheroes did not exist when (Y/n) was a child.

It would be another decade before Tony Stark would stand on a stage and proclaim before the world, “I am Iron Man.” It would be even longer still before Peter Parker would put on a red and blue jumpsuit and call himself, ‘Spiderman’. Bruce Banner hadn’t even begun his research into the serum that would be his ultimate undoing. Dr. Stephen Strange was finishing up med school. Thor hadn’t made his presence known. Wanda had just been born. Hawkeye and Black Widow were still assassins working in the shadows. No one outside Wakanda had ever heard of the Black Panther. Vision hadn’t been built yet, and Captain America had been dead for decades.

Even if they did exist, it wouldn’t have helped (Y/n). Most of them weren’t born super. Most of them became so by lab experiments or radioactive insects or training or technology.

In the world (Y/n) grew up in, there were no superheroes. And if there were no superheroes... then what was she?

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She was 12.

It was her big day.

Not her birthday, she didn’t particularly care about birthdays. Something about them just felt off to her. When she turned 11, she asked her mom if she could have two of those candles that were shaped like the actual numbers, and she’d put them pressed against each other on top of the cake. She ran around all day telling everyone she was 1,111. Some people laughed, but mostly to humor her.

That was why she hadn’t had a birthday party when she turned 12. She didn’t like people fake laughing. It felt like lying. She didn’t particularly mind lying herself, but she hated thinking that people were lying to her. Especially because she could always tell when they were.

No, instead, she had this. The Science Fair.

She’d won first prize the night before. She knew she had because one of the judges had told her she’d won.

That morning, they would be handing out the awards, and she was so excited for everyone else to know the secret, to know that she was the best, even better than the older kids in her class.

The judges were walking up on stage, and any moment, once they got past the category winners they were going to call her name.

“In third place we have Jesse Martin with his project in the biology category!”

A cheer went up that, judging by the pitch, absolutely must have been from Jesse’s mom. The other parents in the room clapped while Jesse ran towards the stage, turning red in the cheeks from his family’s overzealous encouragement.

“Congratulations, son,” the Dean smiled as he bent down to shake the boy’s hand. The mike picked up a small bit of Jesse’s anxious thanks before he ran to join the line of winners.

“And in second place we have, (Y/n)! With her wonderful….”

Second place.

But Mr. Sellers, the science teacher had told her she won.

Was he lying? Did he honestly think second place was winning? Was he just saying that to shut her up? Or was he being mean? Did he want to laugh at her when his real favorite won?

The parents were cheering her, including her own. Her father was nudging her towards the stage, but she didn’t at all appreciate the gesture.

No. They told her she was going to win.

Her face screwed up in pain, and she balled her hands into fists.

At the back of the room something exploded.

A scream went out.

“Fire!” Someone shouted. “Fire!”

The poster boards up and down the hall were catching fire. It jumped easily from paper to paper. It didn’t help that there was no smoke, for some odd reason. That the sprinklers, that the fire alarm, didn’t turn on.

Someone grabbed (Y/n) by the waist. Her father no doubt.

(Y/n) barely noticed. She was still upset staring at the trophy on the stage over his shoulder.

Slowly, before her eyes, it began to melt.

She smiled. Good. If she couldn’t have it, no one could.

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“She caused the fire.” He whispered, staring down at the floor in front of him with glassy eyes.

“Wayne, that’s crazy; you know it is.”

“I saw it with my own eyes, Elle. She clenched her first and suddenly Christina Danvers poster exploded. She gets second, and the first place project explodes the moment she throws a fit?”

“Our daughter doesn’t throw fits.”

“Not normally, but she did today. She was about to, and then everything caught fire.”

“Wayne, you can’t be serious about this right now.”

“She was smiling.” He whispered. “When everything burned down, she was smiling.”

(Y/n) listened silently from the hallway as her parents talked.

She loved to eavesdrop on her parents late night. They never knew she was there. It was another one of those odd coincidences of her life that (Y/n) was the only person in the house who never made the steps creak when she walked up and down the stairs.

She was old enough to know what they were saying, what they were implying. It should’ve bothered her more than it did.

(Y/n) walked back upstairs, silent as the grave, and opened her closet.

She needed the duffle bag her father kept tucked away in the top of her closet, but she was nowhere near tall enough to reach it. As the door slid open, the bag teetered on the edge of the wire shelf and fell to the floor.

“How convenient,” (Y/n) mumbled to herself.

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“Hey Kid,” The man shouted at her out the window of his semi-truck. “What’re you doin’ out here at night? It ain’t safe!”

(Y/n) shrugged. “Not safe at home either.”

The man gave her an understanding look.

(Y/n) watched him carefully as he opened the door of his rig and offered her a hand.

Her mother had always told her not to talk to strangers, but (Y/n) had found she could always tell what people wanted. Besides, she was pretty sure she was a greater danger to them than they were to her.

“Where ya’ headed?” The man asked.

“West.”

“I can take ya’ as far as Texas.” He offered.

(Y/n) hopped off the curb and grabbed the man’s offered hand, hauling herself up into the passenger seat.

She didn’t know where she was going or why she was going there. But something inside of her told her she had somewhere to be.

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Next Time On.... Part Two

Thank you very much for reading! I hope you all enjoyed. I have just come back from a hiatus and a great deal of why I went on said hiatus was the stress of managing ‘added features’ for lack of a better expression. I like writing. I don’t like formatting or managing the blog side of things.

As such, no taglists. Please don’t ask me to be on a taglist. Keeping track of it stresses me out too much. I don’t feel like doing it. I don’t appreciate being pressured into doing it. In the olden days of tumblr, people used to follow each other, and I promise you that feature still works. If you follow me you will see part two when it’s posted.

#loki x reader #loki odinson x reader #Loki Laufeyson x Reader #loki soulmate au #loki soulmate #soulmate loki #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki x reader soulmate #marvel imagines #loki imagines #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel one shot #loki one shot #loki oneshot #mcu fanfiction #avengers fanfiction

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thebadboyfanclub · 4 years

Text

You Are Family Now (Sherlock x Reader)

So I had to repost this, @elanna-elrondiel was the one that requested it and i’m so happy they did, I feel like since I had to post it once again I should name you for this brilliant idea. Enjoy!

“Mister Holmes may I introduce you to my niece, miss (y/f/n)”

A young woman smiled at him as she extended her arm for him to take, her hands were covered but a pair of silk black gloves and her white dress complimented her complexion perfectly. Sherlock took her hand and gave a gentle kiss, before looking straight into her eyes, however she could swear that he looked in her soul.

“Sherlock Holmes, Charmed”

“Likewise, what brings you to my dear uncles event? I don’t recall being in your presence before”

“Destiny I hope, only that could explain being around such an ethereal woman”

After that fatal meeting Sherlock had pursued her, he was astonished by her kind heart and lively spirits, she looked at the world in rose colored glasses and her curiosity about everything was so heart warming to him, it was also a reminder that not everything has to be a mystery and sometimes you need a little sugar in your coffee.

“Happy birthday beloved”

“Oh Sherlock, you spoil me way to much”

“As I am expected to do, especially since it’s your first birthday we spend together”

Sherlock had asked he to spend the night in his home, after their engagement a few days ago she was free of the judgmental eye of the public and could do whatever she wanted with her fiancé in public or not. Sherlock touched the button of her nose with the red rose he had brought with the breakfast, he could not believe how fast he had fallen for her, she was needed in his life, she grounded him, she was the sensitive happy little tune in his head that brought a smile on his face.

“Happy birthday dear”

“Thank you honey”

He leaned in to give her a gentle kiss that made her smile in between the quick little pecks that moved from her lips to her entire face. She started giggling at the matter and tried to push him away.

“Sherlock the food tray”

He swiftly placed it on the floor and dove under the covers yet still on top of her. She kissed him back as her hands held on the material of his shirt on the side of his torso. She loved how smitten he was behind closed doors, how his hands felt almost like feathers by how gentle he was with her, as he pulled back and looked at her, her right hand traveled to his hair, combing through his curls with the feeling of it making her smile once again.

“How did I get so lucky?”

“I don’t know, I guess my uncle hosts great events”

The scene was interrupted by a ring of his doorbell. He wasn’t expecting anyone, he had made sure to not be disturbed today, it was all about her today so a sudden visit was the last thing he needed.

“Maybe it’s your brother”

She spoke, sensing his irritation and questioning the rude visitor. He looked back to her and gave her a kiss once again, dreading the fact that he had to go and open the door.

“Whoever it is, they are getting a brief excuse as for why they can’t come in. I’ll be back in a minute darling”

He put on his robe and to cover his pajamas and left her with her breakfast. (Y/n) didn’t mind it, her stomach was very excited about the delicious treats she was offered by her love, the smell of the pastries and the orange juice definitely made up for the few moments he had to be away from her.

As Sherlock opened the door he was met with the very last person he expected it to be.

“Mother?”

“Oh Sherlock, it’s so nice to see you”

Eudoria didn’t miss a beat nor took into consideration her sons wide eyes and shocked demeanor, she hugged him tightly as a way to show how much she had missed him, even thought she valued her kids independency, they were still her children.

“I wasn’t expecting you to visit”

“Oh dear how could I not? As soon as I got your letter informing me of your engagement I had to come and meet the girl that will be a part of our family, you have a lovely home by the way”

She said as she looked around. It was the first time that Sherlock didn’t know what to do exactly, his mother was in the same home with his fiancé that has no clue of what is going on.

“Is she here? Of course she is, you were never fond of high heels”

She let out a small giggle as her gaze found the shoes that were placed right next to his from last night. Sherlock quickly regained his cool and smiled at his mother.

“It’s her birthday today”

“Oh good, go get her for me please. I’ll wait in the living room for you two”

Without even waiting for a positive or negative response, she walked away from the hall and onto the living room. Sherlock huffed as he walked up the stairs, he had no doubt that his mother would adore (y/n), however (y/n) always became nervous whenever the topic of meeting his family was brought up. As opened the door of his room, there she was eating the breakfast he had made for her, she looked up at him with her mouth full, it was such a sight to see her do anything, she truly looked like a princess.

“Who was it?”

“My...mother”

Silence. As (y/n) waited for him to laugh or show any hint of this being a silly joke of his to tease her, as she waited the chances of it being a joke became thinner and her heart started to beat faster by the second.

“What?”

“I wrote to her about our engagement, she came to see you”

“no, no, no this can’t be”

“Darling, calm yourself”

He approached her, his hands taking hers. Of course she wanted to meet his family, she always tried to get some stories of them out of him, his mother sounded like a very interesting and excellent lady. Yet, this wasn’t the way she wanted to meet her, wearing the dress she wore last night, her hair is a mess and she didn’t have a stitch of make up, she couldn’t meet her in this state.

“Sherlock I can’t meet her, i’m not prepared”

“Dear she will love you no matter what, come on let me help you with your corset”

Sherlock took the tray and placed it at the table a few steps away from his bed. He was expecting her to be on her feet when he turned around, to his surprise she was still in bed, looking utterly mortified.

“(Y/n) come on now, she is waiting”

“What if you tell her i’m sick?”

“Dear, she is not stupid and she traveled all the way here just to see you, wouldn’t it be rude if you didn’t come down to meet her?

“I suppose so”

“Let’s get you ready”

(Y/n) let her feat touched the ground and slowly collected her dress. She stood still as Sherlock started tying her corset, he was.... used to assisting her tying it back up.

“What if... she thinks I’m not enough for you? What if she advised you not to marry me?”

“Then I guess we have once less invitation on our wedding”

“Don’t be ridiculous Sherlock, we can’t marry without your mothers blessing”

“And we won’t have to, you are a remarkable young lady that I am blessed to have in my life, I am sure my mother will think the same”

with one final tie, her corset was ready. Sherlock placed a light kiss on her shoulder and span her around to look at those eyes of hers. His arms wrapped slowly around her waist, bringing her closer to him.

“I will give you a few minutes to get ready, I will be right next to you through the whole thing alright?”

“Fine. I’ll be down in a minute”

He left her get prepared and for one last time went back down to his mother was had sat down in one of the chairs next to the window. The light of the sun brought warmth in the room and showed off the furniture that he had chosen.

“She is quite nervous to see you mother”

“Oh nonsense, I’m not some stuck up mother that thinks no one is enough for my son.”

“She just really wants to make a good impression, she always asks about you”

He sat in the couch close by her, patiently waiting for lovely little (y/n). Not even a minute went by before she appeared, her her up and away from her face and a nervous smile on her lips, she walked to Eudoria and bowed to an extent that made Sherlock think she touched the ground.

“Miss Holmes, it’s an honor to meet you”

“The pleasure is all mine dear. Let me look at you”

(Y/n) straighten her posture and smiled even brighter at the woman. Eudoria took in her sons fiancé before smiling herself.

“Oh my, you are a true beauty dear. My son is a very lucky man”

“I think I am lucky to have him in my life, you raised a very noble man miss Holmes”

“He is alright, but you... I see why he chose you”

Sherlock decided it was a good time to join the two women. He stood next to (Y/n) and took her hand in his, giving it a light squeeze just to let her know he was there for her. He looked over at his pleased more that was still staring at (y/n)

“She is even more wonderful once you get to know her mother”

“I have no doubt about that. What is your name love?”

“(Y/f/n)”

“A beautiful name for a beautiful lady. My so told me it is your birthday today”

“Yes miss Holmes it is my birthday”

“Oh please call me Eudoria, you are family now aren’t you”

(Y/n) almost collapse to the floor. Joy took over her and it was shown by how red her cheeks had gotten, with shaking knees she held herself and nodded at the request Eudoria had made.

“We must celebrate then, Sherlock I’m sure you can make a reservation to a nice restaurant for dinner”

“Of course, if (y/n) wishes to do so”

“I would love to have dinner with your mother”

“Excellent, now I have reserved a room for me in the Lenox hotel, I’ll give you two some privacy now”

“Allow me to walk you out mother”

Before she stepped out of the room, Eudoria opened her arms and hugged the young girl. (Y/n) restrained herself from fainting and hugged her back, the nervous smile was replaced by a big happy smile that reached her ears.

“Welcome to the family (y/n)”

“Thank you miss- I mean Eudoria”

Eudoria giggled at the flustered (y/n) and walked away accompanied by her son. As they reached the door she turned to her son who was also smiling, of course he was sure that they would get along but it was even better now that it actually happened.

“She is a lovely girl Sherlock”

“I know mother, she is perfect”

“Now Sherlock, marriage is not an easy thing so please don’t make me come here and beat you with a stick, cause I will if I find out you are being a bad husband”

“Mother if I recall correctly marriage is between two people, not just one”

“Oh please Sherlock, the girl almost passed out when she saw me, I saw how she relaxed when you took her hand, she loves you”

“And I do as well”

It was true, Sherlock loved and adored (y/n), she was his one and only. Eudoria hugged her son once last time and walked out of the house. As Sherlock was returning to the living room, he heard quick footsteps coming towards him and in a blink of an eye (y/n) had ran to him and hugged him tightly, making him take a few steps back by the force of hers

“Well now, someone’s excited”

“She called me family”

“You are family (y/n), I told you she would like you”

“Yes you did but.... she did as well”

Sherlock could only giggle at her cute outburst of excitement. (Y/n) had a lot of friends and family members that were already married or engaged so she had heard the mother in law horror stories, she was delighted that Sherlocks mother was not one of them.

“We must find an excellent restaurant for tonight”

“Yes, before that”

A squeal was heard that had escaped (y/n) as Sherlock swiped her off her feet and took her in his arms bridal style. Another kiss was given to her that she responded almost immediately this time.

“I have to give you one of your birthday presents”

“One?”

“Of course, one for your personal pleasure and another to flaunt to those rude little “friends” of yours”

“They are better than your brother”

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years

Text

Hide and Seek

Day 6, Story #1 is by @adenei

Title: Hide and Seek

Author: adenei

Pairing: Teddy Lupin/Victoire Weasley

Prompt: Babysitting

Rating: PG

TW: Mild Language

**********

“Don’t let them stay up too late,” Ginny reminds him as she opens the front door.

“And send us a Patronus if anything goes wrong. We’ll be here in an instant,” Hermione adds fretfully.

“Oi, ‘Mione, really? They’re not babies anymore!”

“Let’s go, or we’re going to miss our Portkey.”

Teddy laughs at the interaction. Of all the adults, it’s Harry who’s pressing them about tardiness. The foursome are headed on a weekend getaway, staying at the Delacours’ beachside cottage for three nights. James was shipped off to George and Angelina’s, while Rose opted to go to Percy and Audrey’s, so Teddy’s charges only include Albus, Hugo, and Lily.

“Everything’s going to be fine. I’ve got this! And if I don’t, I can think of at least five other Weasleys to call. Maybe even a Malfoy if I’m desperate.”

“That’s not funny, Lupin,” Ron warns as Ginny swats him upside the head.

“But if Scorpius does ask for Albus to go over for an afternoon, it’s fine!”

“Noted. Go enjoy your weekend!”

Teddy half shoves them out the door this time as he shuts and locks it behind them. The kids are out back playing in the garden, so Teddy goes out to join them. He’s chuffed that Harry and Ginny trust him enough to watch Al and Lily for the weekend. Plus, Ron and Hermione added Hugo to the mix. Normally, they’d be shipped off to the Burrow to stay with Molly and Arthur, but since it’s only a long weekend, and the kids are ten and twelve now, Teddy Lupin, a recent Hogwarts graduate, has been bestowed the responsibility.

He’s always been the mature older ‘sibling’—well, he counts himself as a sibling or cousin to all the Weasleys, but he’s not blood-related. Harry and Ginny half raised him, though, so he’s just as much a part of the family as any of the kids. Heck, maybe someday he’d officially be part of the family.

No, it’s too early to be having those thoughts.

But there’s one person who makes him happier than anything to know he’s not related to the Weasleys by blood. Victoire, his best friend and girlfriend. As Teddy sits back and gets comfortable on a patio chair, he lets his mind wander to spring afternoons spent by the lake as he observes the kids playing on the muggle swingset Harry insisted on putting together years ago.

“Who knew a giant Muggle toy would get so much use?”

Teddy jumps at the sound of a voice he’s not expecting.

“Vic! What are you doing here? I mean, not that I’m complaining, but…”

She laughs as Teddy backtracks. The sound is music to his ears, soft and lyrical, and something he’ll never tire of. Making her laugh is something he’s striven to do ever since they were young. When she fell off her toy broom, he made his hair change colors at a rapid pace in an attempt to make her giggle, and then there was the time she broke up with her first boyfriend during her fourth year, when he’d used the Jelly Legs Jinx on the bloke’s legs while he walked over a patch of ice. Victoire’s laugh has always been the fuel that set his heart on fire.

“Well, you said you had to babysit this weekend, and I thought I might come over and help entertain my cousins,” she explains as she pulls up a chair next to him.

“Yeah, but the adults have only just left! You don’t think I can keep the kids alive on my own for more than an hour?”

“Of course, I do!” She slides her hand in his while waiting for a beat, “especially since James isn’t here.”

“Oh, I see how it is! James isn’t that bad.”

“No, he’s not. He just likes mischief. It’s a common Weasley trait.”

“And a Potter one, too, if I’m not mistaken. Harry and Ginny never stood a chance, especially after naming him after Harry’s dad and godfather.”

“True. When I have kids, they won’t be named after anyone. They deserve to have their own unique names.”

Teddy offers a sad smile at Victoire’s words. He’s named after his dad and granddad and doesn’t mind all that much, but he sees where Victoire is coming from, what with being named after a bloody war for Merlin’s sake.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have insisted on entering this world on the second of May, then. I mean, come on, Vic, of all the days!”

“Oh, sod off, Lupin,” she feigns seriousness while her eyes shine with mirth.

“I do agree with you, though. There’s enough people in this family who’re named after somebody else. I don’t mind it, but I do like the concept of original names. Though, I do think we’re a ways off from baby name talk, don’t you?”

He can’t help but lighten the mood. Teddy’s sure she means nothing by the comment and is just thinking out loud, but something still possesses him to weave it into their future. Perhaps it’s to gauge her thoughts in a casual manner?

“Probably, but it’s fun to talk about, isn’t it? I mean, it’s not like we’re actually picking names or anything.”

“Or determining how many kids we’re going to have…”

“Which would absolutely be—”

“Two!” they both say at the same time.

It’s really more of an inside joke, with Teddy witnessing firsthand the chaos that is the Potter household with three kids, and Victoire being the oldest of three. And yet, there’s some truth laced into their lighthearted conversation.

“See?” Victoire says as she leans in close, “This is why we’re good together.”

She plants a kiss on his cheek at the exact wrong moment because that’s when Hugo shouts,

“Victoire! Look, guys! Vic’s here!”

“Oops,” she whispers bashfully in his ears.

So far, they’ve managed to keep their relationship a secret from the family, but it looks like that’s about to end sooner rather than later. Of course, Harry and Ginny know, and Vic told Bill and Fleur when she came home at the end of term, but the cousins were still blissfully unaware… until now.

The three kids run over to Vic and Teddy, and Lily eyes them with curiosity. “Teddy, why did Vic just kiss you on the cheek?”

There are a multitude of different answers Teddy could choose from. ‘No reason’, ‘don’t worry about it’, ‘it’s nothing’, but instead he opts for, “Why do you think, Lils?”

Her eyes grow wider than her small face allows, and a wide O forms on her lips. “Are you two… together?” she whispers.

Teddy and Vic share a look. They both know the secret’s out now.

“Yeah, Lils, we are,” Teddy admits as he holds up the hand that’s still intertwined with Vic’s.

If there weren’t wards in place, Teddy’s sure that Lily’s shriek of delight could have been heard for miles. Albus and Hugo, on the other hand, seemed disinterested in the whole ordeal.

“Can we play hide and seek or something?” Albus asked once Lily was done reacting to the news.

Point in case.

“Wait, who else knows?” Hugo interrupts Albus’s question and bringing the focus back on Teddy and Vic.

“Of all the cousins? Only you three,” Vic answers.

“Only us?” Lily gasps.

“Not even James?” Albus eyes Teddy curiously.

“Not even James,” Teddy confirms. “Tell you what, we can go play hide and seek now, but what about an even better game?”

All three look on expectantly, waiting for Teddy’s proposition.

“What if we play, ‘let’s see how long it takes James to figure out Vic and I are dating’? We can all place bets, and I’ll take whoever guesses the closest date out for ice cream.”

Vic flashes him a knowing smile as the kids contemplate his offer.

“I’m in,” Lily says without thinking it through.

“Me too,” Hugo agrees.

“But that means we’ll have to keep it a secret,” Albus realizes.

He’s much more intuitive at eleven than Teddy ever dreamed of being.

“Yeah. Everyone else has to find out on their own, which means you can’t tell anyone.”

Lily and Hugo both nod in agreement, and after a bit more pondering, Albus agrees.

“Okay, but can we pick dates later? I want to play!”

Ted and Vic both laugh as Teddy offers to count to twenty. He closes his eyes and makes a big show of counting while Vic remains at his side.

“Nice one.”

“Thanks,” he responds in between shouting numbers. “I figure James is thick enough that we’ll get at least a couple more weeks out of him. He is Harry’s son, after all...”

Not only did they get a couple of weeks out of the deal, but the rest of the summer. It wasn’t until September first when James caught them snogging behind a pillar on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters and ran to announce it to the world that the couple knew the jig was up.

“Looks like I owe Al a trip to Fortescue’s next time I see him.”

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest romantic #submission #teddy x victoire #tedoire

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willowbleedsonpaper · 3 years

Text

Winter In The Shade XIII

Part XIII

Sirius Black x Ravenclaw Reader

W.C. : 2622

Requested by @pogueslandia : It is Sirius’ fifth year at Hogwarts, the same year he ran away from home and to the Potter’s. Soon, he discovers the unfamiliar sight of his brother Regulus smiling and looking truly happy, next to him a Ravenclaw girl who immediately captures his interest. What will happen when the Black family gets involved in their sons lives and the ones they hold close to their hearts?

Warnings: None (Let me know if there's any, though)

Want to know when I post the next part? Add yourself to my taglist!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

“Sending someone to wake me up it’s not what a best friend would do, Black.” you muttered, running your hands through your hair as you brushed it away from your face with your fingers.

“Is your roommate still alive?” he asked with a knowing smile, standing straight from his previous position leaning on the wall outside your common room.

That day you hadn’t woken up with the soft sunlight over your face, your skin warm to the touch as you stretched the sleep out of your body, you didn’t wake up to the distant chatter of the rest of the Ravenclaws at the common room or to the smell of your roommates perfumes after they had showered. No. You woke up to the harsh grasp of Anne, one of your roommates, shaking you awake like some natural event was happening and you all had to run out of the castle. Did natural disasters even dare to touch Hogwarts? You didn’t have the time to ask, the urgence in her voice when she told you some Slytherin boy was looking for you outside enough to make your own worry wash away with a groan, turning your back and diving deeper in your bed.

“He said it was important.”

“I’m sure.” you mumbled, your face buried in your pillow as you lifted your head, muttering under your breath as you got out of bed like a grumpy child.

“She’s breathing.” you assured him, a glare permanent in your face as you started to walk beside him “To what do I owe the pleasure of rising this early in the morning?” you asked bitterly.

“You’re the worst.” he said with a hint of humor, making you turn to him in both shock and a deeper glare.

“Excuse you?” you said.

“I play Quidditch, today is the game.” he reminded you, the vague memory of those words being told to you before coming back to you “You asked me to come and look for you just before it began.”

“You’re playing this early?” you asked, looking outside the windows in the corridor to see the sun was barely out in the sky “You’re not playing, Reg. That’s called torture, someone like you should know that.” you said, nudging his side with your arm.

He stayed silent, turning to you before he quickly glanced away. “What do you mean?” he asked.

You looked at him, taking his change of humor in before you answered “You and your habit of making me wake up early.” you explained, but there was no humor behind your words anymore. “Are you sure you feel alright?”

He took a deep breath, one you barely noticed before he nodded firmly. “Of course.” he answered “You’re right, it’s too early. I’m not fully awake yet.” he said, patting his cheeks gently with the pads of his fingers, making you shake your head and laugh. “I thought we could have breakfast together, before the game.”

“I-” you said, linking your arm with his “would absolutely love that.”

Regulus led the both of you to the mostly empty Great Hall, breakfast being served to the few early birds like Regulus that chose to raise with the sun. You would never understand but you had, literally , asked for it.

You seated on your usual spot, your eyelids still a little heavy while you saw Regulus moved gracefully.

“Your tea.” he said, handing you a cup with careful movements.

“How thoughtful.” you answered, taking the cup from his hands as you took a slow sip “But I think if you want me to survive this day I might need something a little stronger.”

He rolled his eyes and said nothing, as he switched his cup with yours with a swift movement across the table.

You looked down in shock at your new cup, the dark liquid reflecting your image and showing exactly how you felt “Since when do you drink coffee?” you asked in a whispered scream.

He glanced at you with little expression on his face “I took a liking to it during the winter break.” he explained.

“Winter break?” you questioned “Did your mother take a liking to it too or what? You’ve never even looked in its direction, not even when I tried to force it on you.” you said, spitting the words. Your arms laid crossed over your chest, your glare set on your face as you saw him shrug.

“It’s because you tried to force it on me that I didn’t try it.” he said back, both of you entering in a small fight over his new liking to the warm beverage, your body language becoming more prominent as you both started to lean on the table, hands pointing everywhere while trying to keep your voices hushed.

“They look like an old couple.” James said from the other end of the Great Hall, taking a bite of his breakfast as he glanced at the silence of Sirius.

“Stop.” Remus warned him, snapping his fingers in front of Sirius “They’ll feel you staring and it’ll be worse for her.”

“Maybe he should feel my stare.” Sirius snapped, lowering his gaze and taking his emotions out on his own breakfast, a fork his weapon of choice.

You hadn't even seen Sirius when you got to the Great Hall but he had heard your laugh the moment you turned right on the door, holding onto his brother’s arm like nothing had happened. Did you forget all that he said? Were you that great of an actress? The smile that inevitably appeared on his face at any sign of you was completely washed away when you two sat down and started talking like you always had.

He wanted that.

“You should talk to her.” Remus offered but James cut him short.

“I don’t get what the big issue is! So your brother is her best friend, why should that stop you from dating her?”

“You forgot the part where Regulus is a Slytherin with the mind and ideas of Sirius’ parents that hates him for being him.” Remus said, all three pairs of eyes on him with an unnatural silence “Don’t look at me like that, you know I’m right.”

“Didn’t have to be so harsh about it.” Peter murmured in his side while Sirius just stared blankly with hopelessness in his eyes.

“Point is,” James added, slinging his arm over Sirius’ shoulders and giving Remus a glare “He already hates you, why not give him one more reason?”

Sirius groaned, moving out of James' hold “Because she doesn’t want him to hate her.”

“She might have to pick.” James added, a bright smile on his lips. “And we all know who would win, right?” he asked, looking for Remus and Peter’s support but only finding his subtle shaking of heads, making all confidence in James fade.

“Yeah, Prongs.” Sirius said, pointing his hand in your direction as he let it fall with a thud on the table, the act of defeatment “The one in the old couple wins. Look at them! Everyone already thinks that they are secretly dating. I stand no chance.”

The three Marauders stared at their friend in disbelief. A side of Sirius Black they never expected to see coming to shine from the dark, making its way into the world for everyone to see it. Sirius Black, the boy who had all the ladies running after him, the one who had no trouble using his skills to have everyone down on their knees and that knew he was worth it of it all and more, that same Sirius Black that now hid his head in between his arms for a Ravenclaw girl who had the heart and wit to befriend his brother and become the shadow of one another.

Sirius Black cared for the girl enough to put his own desires aside and let her be happy, to keep his friendship. The only person she had left in the school. That wasn’t true anymore, but he knew it was the truth for his brother. A brother that deep down he still cared about, he knew that the girl sitting in front of him was his entire world and he didn’t have the heart to hurt two people he cared about for his own happiness. As selfish as Sirius Black was, this time he didn’t want to be. He just hoped he had the strength to keep that promise to himself.

*******

The air up on the bleachers was cold against your cheeks. The day had gotten a little cloudy and you could smell in the air a storm coming in the school direction. You just hoped it wouldn’t start as you watched the game. Moving through all of your housemates you found a seat in the front, a seat for someone who went there all by themselves, someone like you. You went for the sole purpose of watching Regulus play, something you two didn’t share in liking but he was still passionate about, you loved seeing the smile on his face while he flew on his broom.

The students divided themselves without even realizing it, covering the deep blue colors of the Ravenclaw house you could find the team they supported for the day. Dark red banners flew in the air while others jumped with green pieces of clothing. Of course, you didn’t stay behind. Covering the blue of your robes there was a green scarf around your neck. Regulus had wrapped it around your neck just before you went your separate ways, you wished him luck and watched him go to the changing rooms.

But now you didn’t feel sure about it. Wishing you could divide your body and paint one side with the colors of Gryffindor while the other flashed the usual greens.

It wasn’t every day that the two houses played against one another, the natural rivalry making the game all the more interesting for those who enjoyed the competition. They might not be the best teams or the greatest players, but they were the houses of Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin. The tension in the air was stronger than the one of the upcoming storm.

Your attention was captured from inside your head the moment the wind swept your hair out of your face, green and silver flying in the air as each player took their position. They waved proudly, the cheers loud and full of excitement.

Then the Gryffindor team make their appearance. The crowd burst with energy as the team flew around, waving to all the people in the bleachers. It wasn’t unknown how popular they were. Marlene Mckinnon was in their team, one of the prettiest girls in the school, a true Gryffindor and quidditch player. Then you could count on the charisma of James Potter, captain and star. And then there was Sirius, you were certain most people who usually didn’t show up to quidditch games were there only for Sirius.

But then inevitable happened. Sirius flew just above from where you stood, looking down at you with a smile. He moved through the air in a subtle way, glancing in different directions but inevitably ending on you. He flashed you his brightest smile, pointing to his neck as he shook his head.

You looked down, seeing the Slytherin scarf around your neck and feeling a blush come up to your cheeks.

His smile returned to his face, winking in your direction before he dissapeared in the distance. The game began minutes after.

Of course he would make a big entrance in your life after being missing for days. Only he would do that.

Your bubble burst when the cheers to your right began increasing in volume, seeing Gryffindor had scored. You restrained yourself to slow claps, James bumping fists with Marlene as they went back to their positions. The game was getting more interesting by the minute.

The last few minutes had you on the edge of your seat. The scores were even, the Slytherins played sharper and the Gryffindors rougher. Regulus had been after the snitch with no luck, almost fighting the Gryffindor seeker every time each of them caught a glimpse of it. Your eyes were focused on the black haired boy, his eyes snapping to all directions at the slightest sound and then he was gone. You tried to follow him but he was too fast, your neck too sore from trying to keep up, finally losing him in the crowd of players. Still you found your new focus.

Sirius flew through the middle of the field, following close to James as he kept the Slytherin team away from him, the Quaffle secured under his arm. They worked in sync, James flying higher and faster. He wasted no time once he got his shot, throwing the Quaffle with a swift swing of his arm.

Just then the game ended but the cheers grew as every single person joined in. All the players looked down, you following as your eyes widened in surprise. You shot up in your place, throwing your hands in the air. Regulus held the snitch in his hand.

Confusion filled the place as everyone wondered who had won. The game ended with Gryffindor having more points but Regulus caught the golden snitch.

You lowered your arms, looking at Regulus as he met your gaze. He shrugged, going to the ground where all the players were shouting their arguments to the teachers.

A couple of minutes in silence followed as everyone observed the crowd down in the pitch, the frustration clear in their faces. They were throwing their hands in the air, pointing at each other and shouting, the echo of their voices reaching the high part of the bleachers.

“Gryffindor wins!” yelled the student that had been commenting on the entire game. The crowd burst into loud cheers once more, some running down to the pitch while others hugged right there. The energy was too heavy and you couldn’t help but join in, letting out a shout as you jumped in your place.

You ran down to the ground, body clashing against many students going in the opposite direction. And then you met his eyes, far away in the distance, Sirius stood tall over many of the students that were congratulating the team but his gaze remained on you, a smile mirrored in both your faces as you started to walk in his direction, unknowing of Regulus watching you from the side.

He stared at your smile, one he had never seen in your face, and followed the direction of your eyes. It was a sea of people, all of them sharing the smile on your lips but not one sharing the feeling.

Just before you got away from him he reached for you, tapping your shoulder as he followed your step.

“Reg!” you gasped, turning to the side before you pointed at him. “I-I could’ve sworn I saw you over there.” you said, pointing in the direction you were headed.

“I’m right here.” he told you “You look far too happy for someone whose best friend just lost a game because of bad timing.”

You laughed, smiling smugly at him “And I’m the bad loser.”

“It was bad timing and you know it.” he said, about to add something else when he closed the gap from his mouth, seeing your eyes lost in the distance, glancing between him and whatever had captured your attention.

You shook your head and turned fully to him, taking his arm and dragging him with you “If only you were faster.” you mocked, returning to the conversation like nothing had happened.

“If only.” he whispered, letting himself follow your step as he took one last glance over his shoulder.

Gryffindor.

TAGS

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Winter in the Shade

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Marauders

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#winter in the shade #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x ravenclaw!reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader #regulus black #marauders era fanfiction

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throughtheinterstices · 3 years

Text

for the one who does not wear his heart on his sleeves (feat. oikawa tooru's onee-san)

❝ oikawa tooru does not wear his heart on his sleeves. oikawa toura, his older sister, knows this well. ❞

characters. oikawa toura, tooru’s onee-san; oikawa t. x fem!reader

genre. drama, comedy, slight romance

word count. 4.8k words

warnings. themes of teenage pregnancy

a/n. i wanted to delve a bit into tooru's character and thought, "who else would let us get to know him better than his older sister?" reblogs are appreciated. and as always, i’d be happy to hear your thoughts.

HAIKYUU MASTERLIST • AO3

及川 Oikawa reaching the river

Oikawa Tooru was not one to wear his heart on his sleeves. This didn’t stop girls from clinging on to them, however.

Oikawa Toura contemplated on this every time her younger brother got himself a girlfriend.

She figured that his handsome looks, good grades, athletic talent, and irresistible charm make up for it. (Not that she would ever admit it to her younger brother. Even then, Tooru wouldn’t be able to get all the credit. The Oikawa genes were impeccably attractive, so they all possessed the same assets anyway.)

The girls started to flock him when he was really young. Tooru was a cute and energetic kid. He was always running around with a volleyball that he loved to toss and a unique boyish charm that made him beguiling.

It was no wonder that his first grade classmate in elementary always lent Tooru her princess stickers-filled pencils whenever he “forgot” to bring his own, that Tooru weighed surprisingly heavier one time in elementary school because he always had extra to eat during meal times (courtesy of his third grade seatmate), that Tooru went home blushing one time during pre-school because a cute girl kissed him on the cheek. Toura, herself, was amused by his early puppy-love kind of escapades.

But as leaves changed color and as the siblings experienced more that life had to offer, Oikawa Toura found herself concerned about her brother. Tooru, as a kid, was a fluffy cinnamon roll that everyone wanted to devour. As a teenager, he was something else. He was growing well into the magnetic Oikawa looks, with the towering height, the playful grins, the captivating russet eyes. Partner it with his fastidious methods of fixing up, he was practically teenage royalty.

But as all teenagers were, it was easy for all the attention to get into his head. So Toura took it upon herself to keep him on his toes and to give him a few slaps back to reality.

“Ouch!” Tooru recoiled from his sister’s hand. “What was that for?”

“Stop acting like a superstar!” Toura hissed, her eyes molding into the famous Oikawa glare that she inherited from her mother. She sneaked a glance toward the flock of girls they passed by a second earlier. “You’re not only embarrassing me, you’re also embarrassing yourself!”

Tooru raised his hands in defense. “I was just waving! Is it so bad to be polite?”

“Being courteous and narcissistic are two different things!”

“Me? Narcissistic?” Tooru put a palm to his heart.

“Yeah! I’ve heard a few things about you lately!” Toura accused.

“Ya!” Tooru fished for his phone. “When did Iwa-chan become so talkative?”

Toura swiped his phone away in a flash. “You think Iwa’s the only one who notices your obnoxiousness? A lot of different people come to me just to put you in your place! Do them a favor and turn it down a bit, huh?”

Tooru huffed in disbelief. “You? Just who would do that? Everyone’s scared of you!”

Murder. That was what Toura was going to do. “What did you just say?”

Toura most often gave her brother tough love. It really couldn’t be avoided with a sibling as exasperating as Tooru. It was what his thick head needed. At first, the elder sister was frustrated whenever her brother would brush her off, would be so defensive, would grumble blatantly to the side, and sometimes would even run away at the very sight of his “nagging” sister.

Later on, these younger brother tendencies would put a knowing smile on Toura’s face. Toura thought that she would be forever pulling Tooru by the ear, yapping at him to “be nice” to his juniors or to “treat that girl well.” Apparently, forever was a bit too much. She realized this once during a phone call with her brother’s best friend.

“Iwa!” Toura called into her phone, as she exited her the room of her son, who was finishing his homework.

“Hai, onee-san!” the person on the other line coughed.

“How are you?” she chirped, entering the kitchen. “I heard you’re one of the main players for the team this year! Congratulations!”

Talking to Tooru’s friends was one of the joys of her life. When they first met her, she might have gone overboard with the fierce act and left them terrified. Through the years, they slowly got over it but she was still her mother’s daughter who inherited her temper. Tooru’s friends became witnesses to her losing it a couple of times so she couldn’t really blame them for being careful around her. Toura used their wariness to have fun once in a while.

“Ah, thank you very much,” Iwaizumi answered, brief and respectful.

Toura grinned, whipping out some strawberries from the fridge. “Iwa! You’re so polite, unlike some people I know!”

Iwaizumi hurried to reply. “Don’t worry, onee-san, Oikawa’s on his way home.”

Such loyal friends, Tooru. “Hmm? I didn’t ask for him.”

“But you were going to… right?” Iwaizumi’s hesitation was too adorable.

“Yes, sorry to bother you all the time, Iwa.” Toura tried to keep her tone sweet. “Let me just ask, is there a particular reason as to why this onee-san has to make excuses for her little brother’s lateness?”

If he was bullying the first years again…

“He’s helping the first years with their serves,” Iwaizumi said. “Sometimes with their spikes too.”

Huh. “Really?”

“Hai.”

“And how’s that been going so far?” Toura asked.

“Hmm… I can’t say really…” Iwaizumi said. “A few days of practice won’t really show much results but somehow the first years don’t seem too lost. Though sometimes they do seem irked by Oikawa’s stupid perso—”

The other line went silent.

Toura laughed. How cute.

“It’s okay, Iwa! I have firsthand experience with that stupid personality of his. Totally understandable.”

She could hear his breath of relief.

“Okaa-san!” Takeru’s voice echoed from the hall.

“I have to go, Iwa. I’ll cover for him but tell him he has to wash the dishes for two weeks.”

Toura hung up, shaking her head at the thought of her (not so) agitating brother.

Though Tooru put up a prickly front, deep down inside, Toura knew her brother always listened to the important things she said. With this, Toura was relieved. At the same time, she was concerned. Rivers looked shallow from those who viewed it from afar. A closer look would let people’s eyes see the depth of its waters. What Toura worried about was that people only saw her brother for the things that were skin deep. Worse, that they only loved him for these things.

Tooru was more than those. If only people looked a little closer and deeper.

冬麗 Toura winter, beautiful

Oikawa Tooru was not one to wear his heart on his sleeves. Oikawa Toura felt she was partly to blame.

She was eighteen, just about to enter college. It was the spring of life. New beginnings. New opportunities. Adversities would come her way. That was inevitable. She expected them to come like light rainfall, showering her days with just enough raindrops to make every color vibrant and with just enough trouble for her to appreciate the good and to grow steadily as she went. She was an Oikawa, adept with the woes of the water. She would conquer it just like she did all the other times, with the cutting russet eyes of her father and the fiery disposition of her mother.

At least, she was supposed to.

Spring was the season of new life. She was prepared for all of the changes that were coming, all except for the birth of the new life growing inside of her. Toura was eighteen when she found out she was pregnant with Takeru. Tooru was nine.

The light drizzle she was anticipating was nothing compared to the storms that came.

The strongest downpour surged one night in the kitchen of the Oikawa household. Lights all around the house were dimmed. Windows were shut. Doors were locked. Tooru was tucked impatiently to bed earlier than usual.

All throughout the night until the wee hours of the morning, the usual sanctuary of home-cooked meals and family banter became a cold court of trial. Eyes were bloodshot: Toura’s from crying, her mother’s from exhaustion, her father’s from anger. Hands were shaking: Toura’s from hopelessness, her mother’s from pity, her father’s from disappointment.

Toura had never seen her parents the way they were that night. Her mother was normally the raging one, with all the scathing beration and the matching fiery gaze. That time, it was her father, her typically sarcastic laid back father, who was blazing with fury.

By the early morning, all backs were slumped. All voices were hoarse.

As Toura crawled her way back into her room, she heard the hurried shutting of a door.

Tooru was awake.

At that time, Toura didn’t have the energy to dwell on it. She just dragged herself to bed and hoped to forget, even just for a while.

As much as her parents tried to act ordinarily, Tooru was an intelligent kid. He heard the raised voices at midnight when they thought he was asleep. He heard his sister’s muffled cries as she crawled her way back into her room. He noticed her carefully hidden swollen eyes in the morning. He saw through everyone’s strained smiles the weeks that followed.

Keeping true to his family name, as the river followed the path the soil has carved for it, he followed the flow that his family had created. He never questioned the changes that happened within their home and their family. Yet, he never remained idle either.

The season was spring. However, it had never been more winter for Oikawa Toura. The sun was still high and shining down on the secluded playground near the Oikawa household; even so, Toura had never been so cold. She was donning her favorite sweater and held tightly toward her father’s coat (for comfort or for warmth, she was not sure) but it was to no avail.

Toura was seated on a park bench, with a child blooming inside her womb and the father sitting beside her.

The “father.”

Among the excellent genes of the Oikawas were some not-so-pleasant ones, such as sarcasm or hot tempers (this comes from the mother’s side though). Stupidity was not one of them. Oikawa Toura could take a hint. Hints, to be more accurate.

After dropping the bomb on her boyfriend, after having a long crying session with him, after listening to all his promises of “we’re going to figure this out,” after seeing him off as he shipped himself to Tokyo and she stayed in Miyagi, after weeks of pruned text messages, and after complete utter silence in the end, Oikawa Toura knew that he did not want to be a “father.”

Toura sighed. “Just get to the point.”

She did not even turn to know that he had whirled around to face her. That was how much she knew him. Loved him.

Hell.

“I—can’t.” The crack in his voice broke her. Or maybe it was the meaning of his words. Or maybe, she had been long broken, way back from the moment he first chose to leave.

Well, this time, I’m the one leaving.

“Okay,” Toura whispered. It was the most difficult thing to do, to pull herself up and walk away from him.

“Wait—”

Toura halted. She almost turned back and buried herself in his arms.

If not for the whirling volleyball, the sound of the collision, and the groan.

She did pivot her head a bit, just enough to see her boyf—ex-boyfriend crumpled on the floor, his hands clutching at some very painful goods.

Before she could do anything, her hand was tugged by a familiar grasp and towed away from the scene.

Right there, Oikawa Tooru, with one arm clutching a volleyball tucked and the other on her sister, was walking briskly, a resolute look on his face.

Toura did not exactly know the right response. She had always been a slave to her emotions. She knew, because she was going to become a mother soon, she had to let this go, but to hell with it, there was still time.

“Hey,” she found herself saying. “Nice kill.”

Tooru swiveled in surprise. Just as quickly, irritation morphed in his features. “I was aiming for his head actually.”

“Well then, actually aim for what you hit next time.”

After a long while, Oikawa Toura found herself grinning.

At eighteen, Oikawa Toura had to face the consequences of her actions. She had to endure their relatives’ disappointment and mocking. She had to put up with the whispers around their town. Sendai’s golden girl was ruined. The girls who used to want to befriend her disappeared. The guys who ogled at her never looked at her again.

Spring, summer, and autumn all felt like winter to Toura. How symbolic. She finally lived up to her name.

Oikawa Toura. River. Winter.

What exactly happened to the river during winter? It went cold. Sometimes, it even froze. That was how she survived it all. Oikawa Toura chose to harden herself to everyone’s frigidity, to life’s cold harsh truth.

Tooru was aware of it all. At nine years old, he learned that if he showed vulnerability, he wouldn’t leave the battlefield intact. Especially in their world. If he showed his heart to the wrong people, he was bound to get hurt.

So at nine, Oikawa Tooru buried his heart deep within himself and only allowed a few people in.

徹 Tooru to go through, committing to one thing to the end

Oikawa Tooru was not one to wear his heart on his sleeves. His love was rare.

When it came to love, Tooru was one who used his head. He only gave his love to the people and the things that he knew would be worth it. This was why he revealed his heart only to a few chosen.

To his family: his nonchalant father, his fierce mother, his headstrong sister, his cute nephew.

To his close friends: his reliable Iwa-chan, his bright Makki, his good-natured Mattsun.

And of course, to volleyball.

However, even with all the preventive measures her younger brother had taken, Oikawa Toura knew that it could not protect him from heartbreak.

“I’m going to bed. Already ate.”

Toura watched as Tooru climbed the stairs with heavy feet, sagged shoulders, and defeated eyes.

She gave an inquiring look to their mother. “He got benched today. In their game with Shiratorizawa.”

“Oh,” Toura replied.

She heard her son’s light footsteps running towards the stairs. “Toowu! Toowu! Let’s pway!”

She caught Takeru before he managed to reach the second floor and shushed him. “Tooru-ojisan isn’t feeling well today, Takeru.”

Toura watched her son pout. She mussed his hair and said, “You can play with him tomorrow. Hopefully, he’ll be better by then.”

Toura was frantically scrolling through different contacts on her phone when Tooru came in and announced, “I’ll take Takeru to his volleyball lessons.”

His older sister stared at him, dumbfounded.

“On Monday, right?” Tooru said, rummaging through the fridge.

Toura was confused. “I thought your girlfriend was going to introduce you to her parents on Monday.”

“Nah,” Tooru answered, his fingers shifting back and forth from the banana milk to strawberry milk.

“What do you mean ‘nah?’ I thought you really liked this girl?” Toura said.

“Apparently, I liked volleyball more and she grew tired,” Tooru replied, finally getting his hands on the banana milk.

Toura scoffed. “Well, I never even liked her in the first place.”

“I know.” Tooru drilled his straw through his drink. “Don’t worry about Takeru, nee-san. I’ll take care of him.”

Tooru moved to leave the room. Toura called him back. “Oi. You okay?”

Her younger brother paused for half a second—half a second too long—before turning back. He waved his hand as if to disregard the entire thing. “Of course. Onee-san, I’m Oikawa Tooru.”

Toura rolled her eyes at her grinning brother. It was when Tooru left that his older sister felt more unsettled.

He was Oikawa Tooru. He tried to show everybody that he just brushed off his worries. He had inherited their father’s devil-may-care fa��ade and his tendency to mask his problems by joking about them. But when he’s alone, Toura knew that Tooru took everything hard.

Toura wished she could spare her brother the pain because she knew how cruel life was. She knew she could not.

Oikawa Tooru was not one to wear his heart on his sleeves. Then you came along.

Out of all the girls Tooru had had, you were different. First of all, you weren’t even his girlfriend. You were just a friend. Someone who lashed out on him for punching a vending machine and later on, found your way into his inner circle.

Safe to say, Oikawa Toura was quite alarmed, skeptical, and just a little bit curious.

“So you mean to say that you really didn’t know who he was?” Toura asked you. The two of you were sitting beside the makeshift court on the backyard of the Oikawa household, watching Tooru and his friends play volleyball with Takeru.

You buried your head into your hands. “He told you?”

“Psh.” Matsukawa appeared in front of you. “Mr. I’m-Better-Than-Everyone-Here? Of course not!”

“I told her!” Hanamaki said, taking a swig of the tea you and Toura bought.

Toura held her palm up for a high five. Hanamaki eagerly returned it.

“Ya! My own friends! How could you?” Tooru barked, hurling a volleyball towards them.

Iwaizumi easily dodged it, choosing carefully among the pastries laid out. “How could we not?”

“Aww, was wittle Toowu’s pwide hurt?” Toura teased.

Tooru made a face and turned to his nephew.

“Look Takeru, this is not something you should copy from your mother!”

Toura retaliated, hugging her son close to her. “Takeru, unlike your oji-san, you should stay humble, okay?”

Takeru, used to her mother and uncle’s banter, wiggled free of his mother’s grasp, ignored the two of them, and dug into the pastries you bought.

Toura tried not to be hurt by her son’s actions and diverted her attention to you instead.

Resting her cheek against her palm, she asked, “How did the two of you actually, well, talk to each other then? I mean, YOU DIDN’T KNOW WHO HE WAS.” She added the emphasis just to irk her brother.

Effective. He was staring daggers at her.

Lifting your face from your hands, you answered, “Well, he was out punching vending machines by the gym—"

Toura wheeled towards Tooru’s direction. “You punched a vending machine?”

“I was having a bad day,” Tooru muttered, suddenly preoccupied with snacks.

Briefly, his gaze shifted to you. You looked back at him with sympathetic understanding.

Hmm…

Mornings were hectic in the Oikawa household. Everyone had somewhere they needed to be. Movement filled the house and a string of “ittekimassu” followed. On this particular Monday, the two siblings were the last to go.

As they were putting on their shoes, Toura was intrigued by the two bento boxes Tooru had packed.

“How hungry are you?” Toura remarked.

“The other one’s for the smart girl of the group,” Tooru said, standing up and fixing his hair in front of the mirror. “She’s too engrossed in her books that sometimes, she forgets to eat.”

Clicking her heels in place, Toura asked, “Just who is she to you, Tooru?”

Tooru’s hands froze. “What kind of question is that?”

Toura gave him a pointed look.

“She’s my best friend!”

“I thought Iwa was your best friend.”

“He is!” Tooru exclaimed. “This is different!”

“I’ll say!” Toura turned her back to him. “Ittekimasu!”

“Ya! Onee-san!”

Toura rushed into the halls of her former alma mater. Her steps quickened as she caught sight of the infirmary.

“How’s my brother?” Toura nearly shoved her face into the school nurse’s. “Will he still be able to play?”

This was Tooru’s second knee injury. It would excruciatingly break his heart if his volleyball dreams ended here.

“I can’t say,” the nurse said, breaking the news softly. “He needs to see a doctor first.”

Toura’s breath hitched. “Where is he?”

“In the other room.” The nurse pointed to the door of the adjoining room.

Toura nodded. She turned the knob slowly and quietly, just in case Tooru was asleep.

He wasn’t. Toura heard his muffled sobs before she saw your figure tightly holding on to her younger brother. His shoulders were shaking. It seemed like you were the only thing keeping him together.

“This is the one thing I’m good at!” Tooru cried. “Hard work! And even in this, I failed!”

“Shhh,” you say. “It’s not a failure. It’s a setback.”

“Yeah, right.” He pulled back from your embrace. “What if… What if this is the end for me? What if all those years of proving I’m worth something, of chasing after Ushiwaka, of outrunning Kageyama… What if it all just ends here?”

Toura remained before the door. She waited to hear what you would say. Personally, she didn’t know how to respond. How does one answer to that?

“Then let it end here,” you said. Toura gasped.

Tooru’s eyes bulged.

“Chasing Ushiwaka, beating Kageyama… Let that all end here. Why did you choose to play volleyball?”

Something dawned in Tooru. “I… love to play volleyball… Always have…”

“That’s right. You love volleyball. It sharpens your senses. It makes you feel alive. I’ve seen it. This is why you play volleyball.” Your voice was as unwavering as you gaze.

You softened. “It’s not going to end here, Tooru. No matter what happens, even if it takes millions of therapy sessions, I know and you know that you’re not going to let it end here.”

Toura carefully closed the door, not wanting to intrude in their intimate discussion. Before she did, she saw the change in her younger brother’s previously defeated expression. It was now hopeful.

She did not know what would happen next. Perhaps, hope was what he needed most. Toura felt most grateful for your presence in that moment.

The crowd screamed as one of Tooru’s serves reached Shiratorizawa’s side of the court unreceived. First set won by Aoba Jousai!

Toura joined them with her own set of cheers. “That’s my baby brother right there!”

Takeru pretended as if he wasn’t related to her. You erupted in laughter beside her.

Toura faced you, flashing you a broad smile.

“I think he heard you!” you shout, pointing to the scowl on Tooru’s face, evident even from the stands.

Toura stuck her tongue out at her brother. It was obvious where he got that from.

To add fuel to the fire, Toura gestured to his jersey and tilted her head towards you, as if to say, “So you gave her your jersey, huh?”

Tooru reddened and avoided his gaze, running uncharacteristically towards his teammates.

Toura smirked. Best friend my ass.

“I told him his hard work would pay off,” she heard you whisper. “He sells himself so short sometimes.”

Toura watched as you mumble things to yourself, touched by your affection towards her brother.

Out of all the girls that Tooru had had, you saw him for who he was, not for who he was trying to let everyone see. You weren’t starry-eyed for him. You didn’t let him off the hook from all of his pettiness and faults. Somehow, you inspired him to rise above his inferiorities and become better. Remarkably, you were able to let him break down all the barriers that he put up.

It was safe to say that out of all the girls that Tooru had had, you were the one his older sister liked best.

Oikawa Tooru was not one to wear his heart on his sleeves. Because he knew that love was pain.

“Tadaima,” Tooru called softly.

It was the night before his flight to Argentina. A few minutes ago, the Oikawa household was a boisterous place, filled with Oikawa relatives and Tooru’s teammates and friends. The clamor earlier was the opposite of the silence that echoed as Tooru slipped in.

“I’m here,” Toura called from the backyard.

“What are you doing here?” Tooru asked, taking a seat beside his onee-san.

Toura puckered her lips. “I was waiting for my favorite baby brother.”

“I’m your only brother,” Tooru pointed out. “And will you please stop it with the ‘baby?’ I’m an adult now! I’m even going to Argentina tomorrow.”

“I know.” Toura sighed. “Can’t you be my baby brother a bit longer? It feels like you’re running further and further away.”

Tooru was torn between repulsion and affection. “Who are you and what have you done to my monster onee-san?”

That earned him a smack.

“Just tell me you’re going to miss me,” Tooru said, rubbing the spot that his onee-san hit.

“Tch.” Toura rolled her eyes and diverted her gaze toward the makeshift court the two of them had built back when they were younger. How time flew. Now, he was off to play in bigger courts.

“So…” Toura started.

“So?” Tooru asked.

“I’m guessing, you’re still friends?”

“Hmm?”

“With the girl you walked home earlier, your best friend, the love of your life.” Toura raised her hands in exaggeration.

Tooru had a solemn look on his face. “I’m eighteen, onee-san. I don’t even know what love is.”

Right then and there, she caught a glimpse of the nine year-old fear that had been plaguing his heart. Toura always thought that people can only inherit things from their parents. Apparently, they can inherit things from their siblings too. Just like hand-me-down clothes worn out through time, Tooru had witnessed his elder sister’s experiences and acquired her pain.

Because of this, she knew he was mistaken. He knew too much about love. That love wasn’t just stolen kisses, first dates, holding hands, and smiles. It was pain too. It was the fear of not being enough, of being left behind.

It was true that love was anguish. But after nine years, Toura was able open her eyes to different aspects of love. She found it in her son’s laughter greeting her after a tiresome day. In her father’s jokes during tense moments. In her mother’s complaints about anything and everything. In her brother’s steadfastness especially when she needed it.

She saw it in the way Tooru looked at you.

“I doubt that,” Toura said.

“I doubt a lot of things,” Tooru replied.

“But never anything with her,” his elder sister said softly, looking at him in her periphery.

Tooru shook his head.

“You love her,” she said.

Tooru whispered, defeated. “I do.”

The next day brought a sense of déjà vu to Toura. She felt like she’s lived the scene before. A boy was leaving, off to chase his dreams. A girl was being left behind, to make do of what she had.

She had to remind herself that this was different. It was her brother, always keeping true to his name. He would go through everything life had to offer and he would commit to the things that he loved until the end. He was kind in his core, loyal to the ones he loved. He was not the scumbag who couldn’t make up his mind nine years ago.

It was you, the wisest and most understanding person Toura has ever met. You thought of everything carefully and thought of everyone deeply. You were not the naïve girl who acted impulsively and just hoped for the best.

“Just try and forget me, smart girl. I’ll come for you when you least expect it,” Toura heard her brother say.

Toura always felt the need to guard her brother from the world, especially after all the brutality that she has experienced. No matter how hard she tried, this was something she could never accomplish.

When it was time for Tooru to enter his gate, Tooru looked back, just once, just at you. You returned his gaze and offered an exaggerated smile. Tooru laughed.

This was the last image of himself that he left in the minds of those he loved before he left. You made that happen. Toura wished that you were there to make him laugh all the time, even when it was difficult for him.

So before the world shifted again, while you were still within Toura’s reach, she made a silent plea, an older sister’s prayer for her little brother—

“Oikawa Tooru was not one to wear his heart on his sleeves. But he had given you his heart. Please, keep it safe.”

—this is somehow related to my other oikawa fic HERE

HAIKYUU MASTERLIST • AO3 LINK

#haikyuu #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru x fem!reader #oikawa tooru x y/n #oikawa tooru fic #oikawa fic #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru x you #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa x y/n #oikawa #aoba jousai

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iwhishtomeetinournextlife · 3 years

Text

An anonymous lover (part 2)

Summary : Y/N sees Sirius Black running away after a particularly rough letter from his mother. She wants to cheer him up and decide to send him a letter, anymously, she knows how much he hates her house.

Warnings : Slytherin!Reader, female!reader, Sirius’ mom being a b*tch, not proof read

Words count : 1.7k

English is not my first language, sorry if there is any mistakes

Part 1 - You're here - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

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

Sirius hated receiving letters, he felt absolutly like shit everytime he received one, he hated this, hated how much the words of his mother affected him. He should be used to them by now, shouldn’t he ? “You are the shame of the family”, “a useless son”, “a blood traitor”, and so on, and so on, he’ve read it all. But still, here he was, in his bed crying like he never cried before.

He was happy his friends did not try to force him out of bed to go to class. James did say he would check up on him after he ate, after the morning classes, he would probably bring something to eat, thought Sirius. He felt so grateful to have him and his other friends in his life, to feel appraciated for who he was, with his flaws, to feel taking care of, to feel loved, but...

Sirius couldn’t stop himself to think his mother’s words were, in some ways, true. She was saying them so much, over and over again, it had to be found on reality, right ? The pain in his chest, that weight in his stomach, the feeling of rope around his throat, suffocating him, he was unable to move any member of body. So after his friends left for the morning, he closed his eyes again, trying to get some sleep after his troubled night, maybe his mind would be more at peace after a long nap.

He groaned when he got woke up by a tapping sound. “Stooop”. When the sound did not stop he stood in his bed, pissed. “James I swear if you don’t stop I-”. But his friend wasn’t in the room, no one for that matter. He looked around, trying to locate the tapping, he finally saw an owl at one of the window and get out of bed to open it.

He froze when he saw why the owl tried to get in, a letter. Sirius felt all his blood running out of his body, and the air of his lungs escaping through his mouth. Wasn’t one letter enough mother !? With a trembling hand he took the enveloppe, and watch the animal fly away. He closed his eye, breathing in and out, before daring to look at what was in his hands.

And when he looked, he couldn’t help a confused expression, that was deffinitly not from his mother. The paper was decorated with drawing of stars who seemed to.. glow ? Wierd. He smiled when he recognize the constellation on the front, his star shining the most, with written “To: Sirius Black” in dark ink.

He got intringued, and delicatly open the enveloppe, trying not to tear it. His eyes wided when he unfolled the paper and saw flowers previously dry getting fresh as new and moving drawings, a dog, a stag, a rat... He smiled, the letter must be from his friends, trying to cheer him up. It was beautiful. He felt a warm feeling going trough his body, and staying in his heart.

The lines were written in a dark purpully color, he liked that. “Dear Sirius Black, it had come to my attention you were feeling down because of a letter you received recently”, he greeted his teeth, it’s true, he must have left quite the impression yesterday at lunch. “and because I consider you to be one of the greatest person of this school, I decided to remind it to you through this letter. You and I don’t know eachother that well ”. Wait, what does that mean ? It’s not from the marauders ? “but I hope I will be able to make you feel better with my words. On how much you impact people’s life here, on how much your are loved, even by people you ignore even exist, with your pranks, like for exemple -”.

Sirius savoured every words, curves, loops, they were explaining that time the marauders field the corridors with bubble, thanks to it they were able to get away from dentation with Finch, “a very unjustify detention !” had they specified, he smiled at that, always a pleasure to help someone to get away from the janitor of Hogwarts.

They were a whole paragraphs of all the nice things Lily Evans had told them about him, “She may not show it much, but she really loves you, she admire the way you stand up for what is right, and so do I”. Whoever was that person, they know Evans, that was a beginning to discover their identity, even if a part of him still thought it was from his friends.

But that little part quickly wanished when the stranger started discribing little things he had not realised about himself, the way his nose scrunch when something annoyed him, they big smile he got when he respond correctly to a teacher who thought he was not listening, he blushed a little. Sure, Sirius was perfectly aware of the affect he had of people, but he didn’t believed anyone was really paying attention to him.

“Your are an incredibly honest person, and we lack that kind of people. The ones true to themselves, not bending to others’ expectations, and by being that way you trully are the brightest star in the sky, and unfortunatly, some people will do anything to take those person down, jealous of not being them. But do not listen to those person, keep shinning, because they will stay wretched, but you, Sirius, you will have a good life, you will be great, the best of person to have around.”

Sirius couldn’t help the tears from falling again, but they were good ones this time. These last words were what he needed right now. His smiled desappeared though when he didn’t saw any name at the end of the message. He flipped the paper, over and over again, trying to find a name, a nickname or anything, observing the little animals who kept running around as he was reading, and he looked as they seemed to try to show indicate the enveloppe right next to him. Oh, is the name written there ?

But nothing on it either, so he looked inside, a piece of sturdy paper was nicely fold, they were a word on it. “Kiss ?”. He openned the paper and froze when he got surprise feelling something on his face, slapping his hand on his forhead. “WHAT THE F-”. He ran to the nearest mirror, dropping everything on the way and looked at his face.

He was searching everywhere for a mark, was this letter a prank ? His blood boiled at the idea, of being fooled by such nice words just to be hurt right after.. but nothing. He calmed right down when he found nothing. He took back the letter, the enveloppe and the “kiss”.

“Was that.. It's really a kiss ?”, he sat on his bed again, openned the paper and payed more attenttion to it this time, yes it was. He felt lips gently pressing down on his forhead, right at his hairline. He smiled, it felt incredibly nice. He closed it before openning it once more, closing his eyes too. The kiss doesn’t last long, but it didn’t make it any less pleasant.

He felt incredibly giddy about it, he realised he had never been kissed there before, well, not that he can remember anyway. Not by any of his friend, despise being really close to them and not shying away from physical affection, not even in past relationship, he had kissed his exes of course but that felt so.. Sweet and tender, he couldn’t wait to feel it again.

When he was about to do it again, James entered the room. “You’re awake !”, James got closer to his friend and groaned at what he had in hand. “Y’ mom again ?”, Sirius shook his head “Not her, for sure, open that”, he gave his friend the little card. He looked at it and open it, and flipped it aound like it was nothing. “S’pose to do something or ..?”, Sirius’ eyes widen, “What, you didn’t feel it ?” taking back the paper he looked at it before doing what he was doing before but nothing happenned this time. He only saw three darken dots. Shit, did it run out ?

Sirius felt a huge wave of dissapointment going through him, if he had know better he would have try to not waste them so fast. “Y’good Pads ?”. Sirius nobbed. “Yeah yeah, ‘just it had kisses in it”, friend looked at him like he had lost a part of his mind and smirked. “Did you loose your head ?”.

Sirius hit him with a pillow, owning a laugh “Fuck off Prongs !” he looked down at the letter James had in his hand, the boy was waiting for his friend’s permission to read it, when he had it he observed the little animals running around. “Is that us ? Brilliant !”, “It is, yeah”, Sirius installed himself, leanning against the headboard of his bed while James was reading.

After a few minutes James whistled a bit, “Pads ! Quite a lover you’ve got here, heh ? Who sended it ?”. “That’s the problem, Prongs, I don’t know ! I just received it !”

“Wha’ ? There no way you have no idea ! Got to be someone who tried something before, no ?”, Sirius put his head back, hitting the headboard, his face anwsering for him. “Don’t worry Pads, will find her !”, Sirius raised an eyebrow, “How d’you know it’s a girl ?”, James laughed a little “Too clean of a handwritting to be a boy”. Sirius rolled his eye, to him not being much of a proof, hesitating to bet like he would usually do just to try to proove him wrong.

“You’re feeling ok to go back to class ? We could ask Evans, they seemed to know eachother”, Sirius sneered at him, “Sure, all the excuses to talk to dear Evans” making kissy sounds with his mouth, owning a hit from James, “Fuck off, I’m only trying to help you here !” Sirius smiled, “I know, thanks Prongs”

Sirius quickly got ready, carfully putting the letter on his nightstand with the enveloppe, smiling like an idiot, thinking of all the things said in the letter. He decided to take the kiss with him, it might not do anything anymore, but holding it helped him feeling the sweet kiss on him again. He didn’t know who was that person but he will for sure getting more of these from the source when he found out.

#sirius black x reader #marauders x reader #an anonymous love #sirius black #sirius x reader

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syn0vial · 3 years

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The Official Star Wars Fact File: Zam Wesell

(Unofficial translation by me, syn0vial. Please forgive me for any mistakes, I've studied Spanish for some years but it's definitely not my first language!)

Zam Wesell was an exceptional figure that belonged to an equally exceptional species, the Clawdites. The bounty hunter was an unorthodox and extraordinary being who left a mark with her short life and career.

The Clawdites have always been oppressed and never been trusted. It is something that is accepted as natural in life. Their society arose due to a gene therapy that cured a sickness, but also created a new species, condemned to be exiled from the principle habitable zone of the planet Zolan. All Clawdites can change the color of their skin, but only a few are capable of altering the texture of it, and there are even fewer that can change its shape. Only a small number—very capable beings, dedicated and with great self-control—could take the form of another being for an indefinite period of time.

Shape-shifting results in great pain and discomfort for a Clawdite; they must use oils and ointments to stop their skin from becoming horribly cracked. Yet, in contrast to even the best of her species, Zam Wesell could not only change form with relative speed, but could maintain it while resting.

Combat Training

In Zolan society, those that deviated from the rigid secular norms were persecuted. Clawdite society was less restrictive, but even they showed apprehension about some of Zam Wesell's activities.

In the semi-anarchic society on the Clawdite-dominated continent of Sultur, where Zam was born and raised, the clans were governed by warriors known for their boastfulness. In general, the strongest prevailed, but even the boastful owed loyalty to their clan. Among them all, the best warriors of Zolan were the Mabari knights. They were part of a religious order that would not admit sinners among their novices. The religion of Zolan preached that the untruthful were the worst sinners of all. Despite this, Zam, when she was with them, successfully hid her true nature long enough to reach the third level of mastery in the Mabari martial arts, before being forced to flee Zolan.

Zam relocated to the corporate planet of Denon, where skills like hers were in great demand. The corporate security organizations always needed new employees and with Zam's shape-shifting ability, it didn't take much for her to ascend to the rank of sergeant. Nevertheless, this was only the beginning of her career. She calculated each step with utmost care; in this way, she quickly rose to become a very well-paid corporate bodyguard.

She was a self-proclaimed "progressive" and never forgot her planet and her people. She always sent huge sums of credits to Zolan, to radical Clawdite groups dedicated to the emancipation of their species; it is unknown whether she was truly invested in the situation of her species or if she only wished to provoke unrest.

Outlawed: Zam Wesell's journey before she became a bounty hunter was a winding one. She was denounced on her home-planet, Zolan, for being Clawdite and even more so, for her ability to shape-shift. After learning martial arts in a religious sect of warriors called Mabari, she abandoned her planet.

Clawdite Assassin

Since leaving Zolan for Denon, Zam Wesell had accepted work that provided huge profits and little excitement. Not much happened before she left her job as a bodyguard and sought a change of scenery.

Her experience in the risky world of industrial espionage on Denon had perfected Zam's deadly skills, while also allowing her to develop a web of contacts, financing, and gear to start her career in earnest. Finally, she could establish herself as a bounty hunter. She had adopted as her identity the appearance of a short, attractive female human, as a means of securing more work and hiding her true Clawdite face. With practice, although not without pain, she managed to maintain this appearance even while sleeping. She also adopted a uniform, a purple jumpsuit that could adapt to both her human and Clawdite forms, and that helped protect her skin.

Above the jumpsuit, she wore a flexible armored doublet and a protective skirt. The skirt's connected segments concealed an impact-absorbing system that offered protection against attacks from behind. Her helmet had its own light and incorporated a commlink under the veil that hid her face. In the heat of combat, her true Clawdite face could emerge, which the veil helped hide. Zam's belt had a series of compartments and essential devices for her profession, including the holster for her KYD-21 blaster. In front of her doublet, she carried a small respiratory device. These tubes inserted into Zam's body and allowed the device to function through her lungs if it was required by the atmosphere. The uniform came complete with a certain number of Mabari objects, among them an ancient cape clasp, an emblem on her helmet, and combat gloves. All these objects were ingraved with inscriptions from sacred Mabari texts.

We're bounty hunters, Zam, not heroes: The partnership of Zam and Jango Fett began long ago, long before she was contracted to kill Padme Amidala. The two bounty hunters respected each other. Zam had the honor of knowing the son of Jango, Boba Fett.

Elite Assassin

It was fated that the paths of Zam Wesell and Jango Fett would meet, but it would prove a very dangerous crossing.

Zam Wesell was considered one of the best bounty hunters of her generation, and she believed it. So it was logical that she would come to be known by Jango Fett, considered the number one in their profession.

One of their first encounters [Syn's notes: preceded five years by their true first encounter in the game Star Wars: Bounty Hunter] took place after Antonin Vigo, of the Black Sun, contracted Zam to kill Dreddon the Hutt. She took the form of a red-headed slave and successfully carried out the mission. Just as she was about to take her leave, Jango Fett appeared. Zam discovered that she was not going to be paid, nor was Jango, who had taken out Antonin at the behest of Dreddon.

Zam and Jango both knew of each other's reputations. The mutual respect that they had and their simiar ethics led them to allow one another to go on their way. However, the two would meet again shortly afterwards when a dug named Fernooda contracted Zam.

We've Got To Stop Meeting Like This: Zam and Jango were contracted to recover an ancient artifact. She let him do all the hard work; then ambushed him and made off with the idol.

Jango, you're always complaining about my shapeshifting: The mutant power of a Clawdite was very useful in her work and elongating her arm to grab hold of the idol that both she and Jango Fett were searching for. [Syn's notes: The presentation of this information is a little misleading. Zam catching the idol like this occurred well after this job for Fernooda, when both Zam and Jango were working together to keep Fernooda's boss from using it in a terrorist attack.]

I know that there's a man under that mask: Zam managed to get closer than anybody to the mysterious Jango Fett, with the exception of his son Boba. Even so, she knew that a relationship between them would affect her work, and thus decided not to push it further.

It was an awkward situation, since Fernooda had assigned the job to Jango, but had decided to ensure its success by also contracting the Clawdite. The aforementioned mission involved recovering an idol that had been in the possession of Fernooda's boss. Zam, who knew that Jango had also been contracted, let her rival do the dirty work before springing an ambush. This time, she insisted on seeing the face of the man under the mask. She was so transfixed on him, that she didn't realize there was an enormous insect, the guardian of the idol, about to attack her.

Without knowing why, Jango came to Zam's rescue and, recognizing that she was in his debt, she allowed him to leave with Fernooda's idol. Thus began the strange and exceptional relationship, even friendship, between Jango Fett and Zam Wesell. [Syn's notes: As mentioned earlier, their association truly began with the events of Star Wars: Bounty Hunter, but perhaps this is the point things got a little more personal between them.]

Partners: Without a doubt, Zam and Jango worked well as partners. The question was whether they were willing to let their affection become more important than their work.

Mutual Empathy

Although it was nearly inevitable that Zam Wesell and Jango Fett should encounter one another again, the first reunion that occurred between the two bounty hunters did not go as either had expected.

At first glance, the mission seemed simple. It involved an assignment that Vigo Antonin, of Black Sun, had given to Zam Wesell, and the contracts from this organization were always lucrative. Certainly, the jobs offered to bounty hunters of Zam Wesell's level were never easy.

The target was Dreddon the Hutt. It was never a good idea to threaten Black Sun business and Vigo Antonin wanted to make an example of him. Zam used all the resources at her disposal to investigate and infiltrate Dreddon's organization. Her Clawdite powers allowed her to adopt the form of a human dancer that appealed to the Hutt. She needed all her concentration to maintain this form during a prolonged period, but Zam was very good at what she did. The disguise completely fooled Dreddon. Hutts are very difficult to kill.

Poisons and blasters could not guarantee that Dreddon wouldn't have time to call for his guards, so, to end his life, Zam restrained herself to placing a microbomb hidden in one of Dreddon's amphibian snacks when he was about to enjoy a private performance from his favorite dancer. The result was somewhat chaotic, but decisive.

A Private Affair

Just when she was about to leave, Zam heard someone approach. She grabbed her blaster and hid, waiting to see who could be intruding on her mission. She was almost happy to see Jango Fett, the most infamous bounty hunter in the galaxy, next to the corpse of his client.

Zam had successfully completed her mission and would soon receive a rich reward for her troubles. What's more, she could make fun of Jango Fett for the murder of his client. She had him at her mercy, pointing at him with her blaster, knowing who he was and what he was capable of.

Unfortunately, Zam's good humor soon went up in smoke. Jango had returned from completing a contract for Dreddon: killing Vigo Antonin! Thus, neither Zam nor Jango would be paid. Fett took the first opportunity to draw his blaster and with that both bounty hunters were in the same bind.

Zam was the first to lower her blaster, with her trademark style. With a twirl and a grin, she pointed out that the problem was that neither of them wanted to make the first move. She then flounced off, leaving Jango alone with his thoughts.

It's a weird rock: The artifact that Fett and Wesell had to recover was an idol that, as they would discover, bestowed mysterious powers upon its owner. [Syn's notes: ...If "mysterious powers" means "ownership of extremely explosive chunk of rock," then yes, that is correct.]

A New Contract

However, Zam needed work. The matter with Dreddon had left her without anything to show for it. A dug named Fernooda offered a contract shortly after she returned to her base of operations, but he warned her that he had already contracted another bounty hunter for the job in question: Jango Fett.

Zam readily accepted the job, since it seemed simple. Recovering a little statue from the natives of the jungle planet Seylott that had been stolen from Fernooda's boss. She had already decided to let Jango do the dirty work and ambush him at the temple's exit.

Jango's Revenge

It seemed that this time, Zam Wesell had won. She even managed to get Jango to remove his Mandalorian helmet. The scarred face she saw was handsome, if a bit gloomy. Then, a huge carnivorous insect attacked Zam from behind. The other bounty hunter ignored Zam's cries for help, taking the statue and running.

My client offered 50,000 Republic credits: The paths of Wesell and Fett crossed once again when the dug Fernooda contracted them to recover an object that the natives of Seylott had stolen from his boss. Immediately, the instinctive sense of rivalry returned between the two bounty hunters.

Heroes of Coruscant

Zam thought that she was doomed, Jango Fett had taken off, leaving her to be devoured by the enormous monster on Seylott.

While fighting to escape, Zam was surprised to see Jango return. He told her to take out all the explosives that she had on her and prepare to detonate them. Zam didn't have much option but to trust him, although she wasn't sure that he wouldn't get both of them killed. Fortunately, Fett's jetpack got them out of trouble. Zam picked up Jango's helmet from amidst the smoke and the dust left from the creature's destruction, gave it to him, and allowed him to take Fernooda's idol; afterwards, she turned and left, smiling as she told Jango to take care until next time. There would be a next time, Zam assured her rival, although this didn't seem to bother Fett.

However, Wesell wasn't satisfied. She had heard rumors here and there, and soon learned the truth about her mission on Seylott. The idol had been under the power of the Force-sensitive natives. The Annoo-Dat general Ashaar Khorda wanted the idol to use as a weapon capable of generating explosions that could destroy an entire planet. Even worse, Khorda's target was Coruscant.

Zam traveled quickly to Kamino, where she met with Jango and, to her surprise, with his young son Boba. She believed that Boba's mother had been killed and Jango said nothing to the contrary. Instead, he listened impatiently to Zam's story about the idol. Zam ended by saying that, since she and Jango had found the weapon, they owed it to the people of Coruscant to stop Khorda's plan.

Under the Mask: Zam Wesell was one of the few people who could elicit affection from the harsh and implacable Jango Fett

A Matter of Conscience

Jango wasn't interested, since he wouldn't be paid for the work and his son needed him on Kamino, but Zam convinced him that there were countless children that needed him on Coruscant. Jango Fett, an orphan rescued by strangers, softened his position and finally accepted his first time working together with Zam Wesell. [Syn's notes: Again, second time since Star Wars: Bounty Hunter.]

Zam had seen Khorda's right-hand man, the dug Fernooda. Thus, she took on his appearance in order to discover Khorda's and his lackeys' plans. They found out that Fernooda planned to place the idol in one of the planet's central reactors, where the explosion would cause a chain reaction that would destroy the planet completely.

Jango and Zam, along with a solitary Jedi, found the mad killer, after following the clues that he and his gang had left. Together, the three proceeded to defeat the gang and recover the idol. The Jedi could absorb the Force of the idol and leave it without power once more; although at the cost of his life.

Safe Return: Zam Wesell worked together with Jango Fett to seize a powerful Force artifact and return it to its owners. She managed to convince Jango to accept the mission.

Zam and Jango took the idol back to Seylott, earning them the gratitude of the natives. They were requested not to return ever again, something that the bounty hunters had no intention of doing. Upon returning to Kamino, Zam was not fooled by Jango's complaints of not being paid, since she knew that, deep down, he knew that returning the idol had been the right thing to do. It was the same impulse that had saved her on Seylott. She said goodbye to Jango with a kiss on his scarred cheek, so he wouldn't feel it had all been for nothing. It seemed that Zam had won again.

Altruistic Mission: Zam's desire to prevent the deaths of millions of people in a terrorist attack shows that she had a certain sense of conscience.

The Final Mission

Jango Fett made an atypical decision: subcontract Zam for the most dangerous assignment.

Jango wanted to spend more time with his son Boba. The boy's education was very important to him. However, the most famous bounty hunter in the galaxy had many offers of work. He accepted most of them and the rest he passed on to Zam Wesell. She worked alone most of the time, although they worked together occasionally, to the benefit of both of them.

Assassination Contract

A man that Jango knew as Tyranus, the same that had given him work with the Kaminoans, requested that he accept a special mission. It involved the killing of a high-order politician who had interfered in Tyranus's business. The pay was very good and Jango was happy to be able to pass it on to Zam Wesell. It seemed like a simple job.

The target was a senator dedicated to public life, something that would make her an easy target for an intelligent assassin. However, the target was also a queen of Naboo, friend of the Jedi and a central figure to the supreme Chancellor of the Republic.

Direct Hit: Ostensibly, Zam Wesell had killed the senator Padme Amidala with a bomb on her ship, but the victim ended up being a decoy, making it necessary to take another approach.

Reckless Driving: Zam realized that she was being pursued by Jedi. Her skill at the wheel of a speeder allowed her to traverse the busiest districts of Coruscant, but her pursuers wouldn't give up the chase.

To Kill a Senator

Zam chose the occasion carefully.The target was to return to Coruscant for a crucial vote, and her landing would be predictable enough. Zam used her capacity for shapeshifting to discover the time and place of Senator Padme Amidala's return.

With her usual cunning, Zam managed to place a bomb on the target's landing platform and then left to observe from the heights of a building a kilometer away. From there, she waited for the moment of truth. Amidala's silvery ship landed, flanked by fighters. The senator came down from the ramp and the moment her foot stepped onto the platform, Wesell detonated the explosive. There were few survivors and the news was full of stories and images of Zam's success.

Double Action

Zam Wesell believed she had completed the mission, but her satisfaction was short-lived. Amidala was apparently alive in the rotunda of the Senate at the end of the day, a very irritating outcome. The woman killed on the landing platform was a double. Fett was angry, along with his client. There could be no more mistakes.

Fett spoke with Zam and gave her a glass tube with two kouhuns inside. He cautioned her that they were extremely venomous, since she wasn't an amateur.

The bounty hunters counted on an ASN-121 droid, programmed with the location of Amidala's quarters, to deposit the deadly cargo. Then, Zam sat and waited for the return of the robot.

It was emiting an alert signal. Zam saw through her scope a Jedi holding onto the droid. Not even the droid's destruction could shake the Jedi, and soon she was being pursued through all of Coruscant, with her skills as a pilot put to the test.

Just when she thought she had lost them, one of the Jedi jumped onto her speeder. In the subsequent skirmish, her vehicle was damaged and she was forced to land. She sought refuge in a bar with the Jedi close behind.

Death of a Hunter

Seeing one of the Jedi at the bar, Zam approached as close as she dared, knowing that he could deflect a blaster bolt if warned in time. Unfortunately, the Jedi was much more astute, igniting his lightsaber with a twirl and severing Zam's hand that held her blaster. The pair of Jedi dragged Wesell's wounded body into an alley to interrogate her.

Ground Chase: Zam, without her speeder which had been damaged, had to flee on foot. She got into a bar, where she intended to ambush her pursuers, but Obi-Wan Kenobi attacked her with his lightsaber before she could fire; Wesell was badly injured.

One of them, the younger one, pressed Zam to reveal the name of her client. At first, she resisted, but then, after the Jedi spoke again, began to tell her captors what she knew.

The poison dart that Jango shot ended Zam's life before she could speak a word. She died quickly from the venom's deadly effects; she didn't suffer. This was the last thing that Fett could do for a friend.

#zam wesell #jango fett #boba fett #whew! this took a while :`D #please let me know if any of my translation needs to be corrected; i'm definitely an amateur when it comes to translating!#star wars fact file #star wars fact file 71 #the official star wars fact files

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juminsmysticmc · 3 years

Note

Hi, this is me (again)! If you have time and motivation can you please write something in High school AU (i just love it so much). Maybe something with MC who is told by her mother that as a girl she doesn't have to be smart she just have to be beautiful, she shouldn't have her own opinion and should only find herself someone who will take care of her and rfa + minor duo heard that? But remember that your well-being is the most important and it's ok to take a break! We love you!

High School AU where the RFA overhears Mc‘s Mom saying to her that she doesn’t have to be intelligent but beautiful

Hey my love, thank you for sending in a Request! Just like the last Requests I will leave out the Minor Duo due to the busy time. However I will write it again if you want to, yes? Hope you like it, please give me your opinion!

Jumin

,,Sometimes I wonder how parents raise their daughters,’’ Jumin mumbled as he walked down the hallway with his best friend Jihyun.

Jihyun laughed at his friend’s words.

,,I mean, I’m not wrong, am I?’’ Jumin asked.

,,Today in music class, a girl chuckled and thought she was cute. The teacher wanted to know if she knew something about Beethoven and she simply looked at me and said, ,,Jumin-oppa, I don’t know, can you say it?’’, it was so disgusting!’’

,,Well, I think she just has a crush on you,’’ Jihyun laughed.

,,No, she doesn’t,’’ he corrected.

,,She just wants my money,’’ he said and with that they finally changed their shoes and went out, ready to go home.

Neither Jumin’s or Jihyun’s driver was there. Instead, a girl with her mother stood there.

,,No one cares about your good mark you got in math. The world doesn’t need a doctor like you! All you have to do is to find a rich man and do what he wants! Just listen to him and be pretty for him so that he always will love you. Everything else is not important,’’ the mother told the girl who was looking down.

,,See, I told you,’’ Jumin said, shaking his head.

However, at the second look he noticed that the girl who was looking down was you, the one who was always a bit better than him at school.

,,What your mother said is completely wrong,’’ Jumin said loudly.

,,Keep studying. An intelligent wife is more exciting than a dumb chicken like everyone else,’’ he said and with that Jumin finally saw his driver and dissappeared.

The next day, you saw him again.

,,Thank you,’’ you said.

,,You showed me that my feelings are important too. I will fight for my way thanks to you,’’ you smiled and walked off, making Jumin blush and keep up with you…

Zen

You and Zen were very good friends.To be honest, one of you just had to say something about a relationship and you guys would finally become a couple.

,,Okay, Hyun, my mom is here, so tomorrow at my house?’’ you asked him.

Both of you planned on studying together to start your dream of being in entertainment.

You wanted to become your boyfriend’s manager.

And of course, even though your prince was intelligent, you were the most intelligent of the two of you.

A few hours later, Zen did as he was told. The young boy already met your parents.

They were kind, much kinder than his mother. He saw your parents as second parents even through you often told him that your mom was manipulative and mean.

Zen rang at the doorbell. The loud sound was heard and a few seconds later an older woman opened the door with a smile on her lips.

,,Hyun! My favorite son-in-law!“ she joked and pulled him in, hugging him.

,,How are you? Wait, you’re here for Mc, right?“ with that she called you, her daughter, who a bit later stepped down the staircase.

You had your hair up in a messy bun, the one Zen loved so much.

You were wearing other clothes than the one you had today at school. It looked much more comfortable.

You and Zen could feel your mother tense up as you walked down.

However, you ignored her and went up, giving Zen a kiss and making him sit down.

And then you began to study, which ended with you both arguing about this one question.

,,You have to subtract this from here and add it on this side,’’ you explained.

,,No! Why are you doing it like that?!’’ Zen asked you back.

,,Gosh, Zen! Just do it your way and I will do it my way and later on we can check!’’ you told him, a bit annoyed by now.

Suddenly, your mom came in with a few snacks.

,,How do you dare?’’ she asked.

At first Zen thought that she meant him, but apparently she meant her own daughter…

,,First, you open the door like that! You look really bad! Totally messy! And then you also argue?! Don’t act as if you’re intelligent. Just do what he says and accept that! You don’t even know how to study! Just be an obedient wife!’’ your mom hissed.

At some point, Zen jumped up and grabbed your hand, storming out with you ,,I finally understand what you mean,’’ he told you before he comforted you.

Yoosung

You could almost say that Yoosung was kind of a stalker; he always followed you around, observed you, and dreamed about you, the girl of his dreams.

You were the most beautiful girl at his school, as well as the most intelligent and kind human being.

He never saw someone smile that bright, laugh that happily, or think that hard.

The young man was totally different and for you, he wanted to change.

One day, it was a cold afternoon and Yoosung could feel that it could begin to rain. He wanted to ask you if you were interested in going home with him.

And after a lot of hesitation, the boy finally approached you.

However, he was about to go again when he saw that you were talking to someone.

Yoosung didn’t mean to overhear you guys but he heard.

And his heart was crushed at the words you had to listen to.

,,I already told you that you won’t go to that school, Mc! Your studies may be good, but you should learn how to make kimchi and be a good wife! Just find someone who will take care of you and your family and both of you will be much happier,’’ the woman said.

,,I am your mother and I know what you need,’’ she nodded and opened the door.

,,However,’’ you began ,,I don’t want to live like that! I am me!’’ you said, louder, trying to fight her. However, no one helped and the situation ended with you staying back while she drove off.

Even though Yoosung said that eavesdropping shouldn't be said out loud, he did as soon as he heard you sob.

,,What she said isn’t true,’’ he called.

,,I, for example, like independent people,’’ he said and was about to go away when you suddenly pulled him back.

,,Help me, please,’’ you begged him, your red puffy eyes on him while your trembling hand tried to stop him from leaving you.

Yoosung hugged you and padded your back.

,,I will help you. I will be here for you,’’ he assured you.

And so your long journey began...

Jaehee

You and the brown haired girl were best friends.

Well, deep in your heart you knew that you may have felt a bit more than that, but this was a completely different topic.

You and Jaehee did everything together.

You two went shopping together, went to school together, and hung out together.

You and Jaehee often wore matching outfits and ate the same lunch.

Jaehee’s house was almost yours too because you stayed there so many times.

But Jaehee never really visited yours, after all these years, she couldn’t remember what your kitchen looked like, how your house smelled, and what color your walls were.

And the reason was that your mother was a quite strict one with everything else, but an open mind.

One day, it was the day of the school’s drama production. You played a big role in it because you were the one who scripted everything and helped the teacher a lot.

Jaehee never saw such an intelligent person.

Such a kind person.

And she never saw such a bad mother like yours.

Actually, it was kind of her fault, Jaehee thought.

Your mother approached her and asked her where you were staying.

And without thinking about it, Jaehee told her that you were behind the scenes.

Your mother walked there on her red high heels, the dress way too short for a theatre at a school, and her perfume almost too strong for her.

Jaehee could feel a headache coming up as she smelled the strong aromatic smell on her.

Without thinking about what she would see, Jaehee followed your mother, curious why she would search for you.

In that very minute, your mother observed how you were arguing with a boy. The older boy one class above you who actually had a crush on you, or so it was said.

And from the frozen expression on your mother’s face, Jaehee could tell that she wasn’t okay with the way you were talking to him.

,,ARE YOU CRAZY?!’’ she asked you, making Jaehee twitch at her sudden yell.

Apparently you felt the same.

,,I told you tons of times to shut your mouth!’’ she hissed.

,,The young boy was talking to you! You should have nodded and agreed with him! Don’t tell him to do it better or different! How did I raise you?!’’ she asked you.

From afar, Jaehee could see that your eyes were watery.

,,I only want the best for you, but what can I do if you ignore me? You should simply be obedient and make sure that you find someone who will just take care of you!

Get out of these dirty clothes and apologize to him! Maybe he will show mercy!’’ she said, standing on her right leg and pulling the white Gucci bag on her shoulder again.

,,No need,’’ Jaehee finally dared to say something.

,,I will take care of Mc and then she won’t need to change,’’ Jaehee said.

,,Don’t worry, I will treat her better than you,’’ she scoffed.

Saeyoung

,,You are such a tomboy!’’ Saeyoung teased you and let you run off before Saeran could find you for taking his idea of making the garden more beautiful.

He never saw a girl like you at the school he was visiting thanks to a friend of his and his fiance.

The catholic school only accepted intelligent students or students with money, but he never expected you to be there. You were a little tomboy that was super intelligent and kind of rich.

Usually the rich people there were just dumb.

,,He got her,’’ Saeyoung laughed as you stopped.

He guessed that his twin brother found her from the other side, but he was so wrong.

Approaching you to make him calm down, he suddenly realized that the high, annoyed voice wasn’t his brother, but instead, a woman’s voice.

,,Again, you look like garbage,’’ the woman said.

,,Didn’t I tell you to look like a lady like everyone else and just try to find a good person who will take care of you? Instead, what are you doing? Walking off like that in dirty clothing,’’

Saeyoung could hear that the person you were talking to was annoyed.

,,Mom,’’ you tried, making the red haired boy even more curious.

,,No, mom, you will embarrass me.

Now, please go and put something else on and try to make someone like you in class.

Like I said, studying isn’t the most important thing as long as you have a person who will give you money and a house.

Look at me, I also didn’t study a lot, but your father came to like me.

My tights helped me to have you,-’’

,,The only reason why he didn’t leave yet,’’ Saeyoung said from behind, approaching the both of you.

His uniform was dirty from the place he stayed hidden and his hair was just as messy as yours.

,,I beg you for pardon?!’’ your mother asked you and began to play with her nails on the purse.

,,I said that her father didn’t leave you yet to make sure that Mc isn’t alone with you, a manipulative old hag.

Besides he is sleeping with your friend daily by now,’’ Saeyoung said, laughing and trying to pull you away with him.

,,How dare you-’’

Saeyoung laughed. ,,What? Make you realized that there won't’ be a man forever who will just like you for being obedient like a dog?’’

With that, he pulled you along with him until he reached Rikas place with a sobbing you holding his hand.

MASTERLIST 1

MASTERLIST 2

MASTERLIST 3

19.03.2021// 22:05 MEST

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Initiative - aka NMJ and JYL get engaged - ao3 or tumblr pt 1, pt 2

Jiang Yanli’s first engagement had been announced when she was three and a half years old – there had been a big party, festooned in color, exquisitely and meticulously planned out in advance, and she’d been obliged to stand on stage next to a baby in a cradle that had done nothing but cry and spit as all the adults around her congregated and congratulated each other on the excellent match.

She hadn’t enjoyed that at all.

Her second wedding announcement was simultaneously more casual and more noteworthy, and she enjoyed it tremendously.

Madame Jin had sent several invitations to Jiang Yanli to come visit Lanling in advance of the hunt planned for Phoenix Mountain, speaking of how beautiful it was and how much she looked forward to seeing her good friend’s daughter – talking about she’d always regretted how Jiang Yanli had been obligated by circumstances to take shelter at the Unclean Realm rather than in Lanling City, although she’d been pleased to hear from her son that she was doing well – all the right sort of words. The words might have been more welcome if Jiang Yanli hadn’t known that Madame Jin was still intent on securing the marriage she had arranged.

If she hadn’t been engaged, she would have accepted the invitation, hoping to form an alliance for her sect through a close relationship with Madame Jin even if she didn’t have one with Jin Zixuan (no matter what Madame Jin hoped), but as she was, in fact, engaged to another – even if it hadn’t been formally announced – it would be inappropriate to go. So she instead played ignorant and responded graciously, protesting that she couldn’t possibly impose, that the rebuilding at the Lotus Pier needed her, but that she would of course be happy to attend the hunt alongside the rest of her sect.

She arrived at her brother’s side, smiling all the while.

Her second engagement was announced like this: Sect Leader Jin, using his newly legitimized son as his mouthpiece, had brought forward some ghastly ‘entertainment’ that involved shooting at helpless prisoners, tied up in chains. Jin Zixuan had complied, but Wei Wuxian had marched out and disrupted everything by showing off to a ridiculous extent – Nie Mingjue, who had been watching with a black face full of rage but unable to speak due to propriety, had started applauding very loudly and very enthusiastically – and Sect Leader Jin had ordered the prisoners taken away.

“Well, then,” he said, clapping as if he had impressed himself: as if they hadn’t just been subjected to a powerplay under the guise of hospitality, as if everyone would be over-awed by his might now that they had seen him abuse the helpless while they were all forced by the rules of etiquette to say nothing or else risk carrying the blame for trying to start another war. “Absent anything else, we should proceed to the hunt itself, where await you only the finest of prey and the sharpest competition among your peers.”

For the further display of the power of the Jin sect, he meant.

“Actually,” Nie Mingjue said, interjecting in a moment in which Sect Leader Jin had paused to take a breath so that it was technically not an interruption, “there is one thing. A request, in fact.”

Sect Leader Jin’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he maintained his false smile. “Of course, Sect Leader Nie. What can I do for you?”

“I’m getting married,” Nie Mingjue said. “The bride is Young Mistress Jiang, of Yunmeng Jiang, and I would like –” He raised his voice to overcome the abrupt explosion of talk that had erupted. “– I would like to have her accompany my sect in today’s hunt. I hope that doesn’t interfere with your plans for a competition between the sects?”

There were those who said that Jiang Yanli’s chosen husband was bad at politics, and they might even be right. But it didn’t really matter in the end if he’d thought of the idea on a whim or if it’d been a prearranged plan by Nie Huaisang, who was cleverer than he liked to let on to people, Jiang Yanli’s future husband had still wiped away in a single sentence all memory of the farce they’d all just endured and of the hunt that was yet to come, ensuring that the only thing anyone would remember about today was the shocking news of the engagement of the leader of one Great Sect to the sister of another.

(And if everyone remembered that at the last celebration hosted by Sect Leader Jin, he had proposed to resurrect the marriage between Jiang Yanli and his own son, instead, forcing her to publicly demur on vague terms…well, that just made it all the more satisfying.)

Now it was Sect Leader Jin’s turn to scowl and glare, and Madame Jin’s expression looked no less thunderous, but in the end Jiang Yanli got to go with the Nie sect on the hunt.

“You know I’ll only slow you down,” she said to Nie Mingjue, who snorted.

“No more than Huaisang will,” he said, and if his face was stern and his voice gruff then she still thought she detected fondness and humor beneath it. “Besides, it’ll be a good opportunity to measure you.”

It turned out that he meant that more literally than she might have thought.

Jiang Yanli was promptly whisked away to the back of the Nie retinue by a small cadre of Nie disciples, men and women both. She was presented with a number of training sabers shaped out of wood and made to hold them in a variety of positions as they murmured things about stability and reach and balance as if they really, truly thought that she would actually use the saber they were preparing for her.

“This one,” Nie Jiahui, a steely older woman with silver in her hair and fierce eyes, eventually announced, and the practice saber Jiang Yanli had been waving around was taken away. She was then presented with one that was twice as heavy, for “practice”.

“Do you always practice with something heavier than the actual thing?” she asked, and Nie Jiahui nodded.

“Strengthens the shoulders,” she said, curt but not standoffish. “Have some candy.”

Jiang Yanli blinked, but smiled and accepted the offer. It was licorice, which she liked.

“Do you often carry candy with you on night-hunts?” she asked, listening to the sound of fighting from up ahead. Every so often, a disciple or two would trot by carrying the corpses of larger and larger creatures, slain in the fighting; it seemed that the Nie sect was not, in fact, being slowed down in the slightest by her presence.

Of course, she also wasn’t being tended to as if she were their chosen lady, either, as she might have otherwise expected – all pomp and flowery language, Nie Mingjue by her side at all times to show her around as if they were on a pleasure stroll – but in all honesty that would have been a little bewildering. It was very much not the Nie sect’s character, all practical and straightforward, and she found that she preferred it that way.

“It’s important to have something to replenish energy,” Nie Huaisang said, having dropped back to join them from the front. He looked tired and grumpy, but his saber appeared to have been put to some work; he immediately climbed up into the carriage that people were taking turns riding and started cleaning it. “And licorice candy clears the lungs.”

“Clears the lungs?” Jiang Yanli asked.

“It’s good for more than that,” Nie Jiahui said. “But that’s one of the uses, yes. Do you ever feel like your chest is too tight, especially when you move too much? Leading to coughing, shortness of breath, your lips turning blue?”

Jiang Yanli blinked. “Yes,” she said. “But that’s just because I was born with a weak body.”

Nie Jiahui scoffed and Nie Huaisang laughed. “Good luck with that,” he said cheerfully. “I was born with muscles that didn’t keep their tone: too flexible, incapable of gathering strength, requiring more energy to do less, making me twice as tired twice as fast – even sitting up straight can be a struggle in some extreme cases, though luckily not mine. And do you think that helped me one bit in getting out of saber training? It did not.”

“Early childhood intervention is best,” Nie Jiahui said. “But the next best is starting today. I’ll show you some low-impact exercises that you can start working on to strengthen your shoulders and stomach, as well as some balance movements to center yourself and improve your posture – that way, by the time your actual saber is ready, you’ll be able to take it through one of the basic routines.”

“I’m happy to learn whatever you have to teach,” Jiang Yanli said, ignoring Nie Huaisang’s dramatic cry of ‘And here I thought you’d be on my side!’ “I only regret troubling you.”

“Not at all,” Nie Jiahui said. “It’ll be good to have someone watching the Sect Leader’s back on night-hunts.”

Jiang Yanli felt a surge of terror and excitement in her belly. “He would trust me with that? You would trust me with that?”

“I did tell you that you’d need to keep up with him,” Nie Huaisang said mildly, and it was true, he had, only she’d assumed it was a bit more metaphorical. “You don’t have to fight or even walk too much, if it doesn’t suit you – my grandmother was lame in both her legs from a childhood illness, she rode everywhere, scariest woman I’ve ever met by far – but you do have to be there. Someone needs to be able to tell my brother to stop. Someone he’ll listen to.”

And wasn’t that something of a thrill to think of?

Jiang Yanli wasn’t someone anyone listened to – not her parents, not her brother, not her sect disciples. She’d always been the one who comforted them afterwards, who supported them; she made them food and tried to convince them to be kinder to each other, and sometimes they even tried for a while before getting into another tiff. They would kill for her if she so much as hinted at it, tear down the sky for her, but it was more in the nature of indulging her rather than actually allowing them to guide her.

Yet here was Chifeng-zun, a war hero and a sect leader, one of the most powerful men in the world, a man admired by men and sought after (even if only in their hearts) by women, and his family was telling her that he would listen to her.

“If you say so,” she demurred, but they insisted, and by the time the hunt was over Jiang Yanli was surprised to realize that she hadn’t needed to resort to sitting on the carriage more than twice the entire time.

“We’ll send Auntie Jiahui to the Lotus Pier after today’s hunt is done,” Nie Huaisang chattered cheerfully in her ear as they headed back towards Jinlin Tower. “She’ll work you through your paces, believe you me, and all the supplemental things, too – making sure you eat the right thing, take medicinal baths to improve your meridians, apply massages to loosen your joints…those parts are nice, actually. Take care of your body as you would your saber, take care of your saber as you would your wife! That’s how the saying goes. Trust me, you’ll be regretting the whole thing soon enough.”

Jiang Yanli didn’t think she would. “You seem very confident that A-Cheng will allow you to do as you please, even in the Lotus Pier.”

“I’ll tell him it concerns secret Nie sect marriage rituals,” Nie Jiahui interjected. “When two women are involved, men tend to run away when the words ‘marriage’ and ‘secret’ are combined.”

Sadly, she was probably right.

“Show me those exercises again,” she requested, and Nie Jiahui climbed up on to the carriage to show her the ones she could do even while sitting down.

Jiang Yanli might never have had the opportunity to strengthen herself before, and she was moderately certain that she wouldn’t have too much success now, as the various tricks Nie Jiahui had taught her were largely body refinement, barely reliant on qi, and her cultivation was still as low as ever.

But she was good at devoting herself to learning something when she wanted to, and as soon the hunt at Phoenix Mountain was over and they had shifted over to the various feasts and meetings that Lanling Jin had planned for the rest of the week, she began her efforts at self-improvement in earnest.

The weak body her mother had always despaired of might always be weak – Nie Jiahui had been quite blunt on that subject, making it clear that nothing she was suggesting was some sort of miracle pill, and furthermore that there was nothing wrong with being weak as long as she made an effort (Nie Huaisang had been the recipient of several pointed looks there) – but Jiang Yanli was determined to at least demonstrate that she was trying.

A gesture of good faith, perhaps. Some small show of initiative.

Nie Huaisang had said that Nie Mingjue appreciated her initiative.

“A-Xian,” she called one morning, only a few days later. “A-Xian, are you going out for a walk? Let me come with you.”

“You’ve gone on a lot of walks recently,” Wei Wuxian laughed, but allowed her to take his arm as they walked into the crowd. “Do you like Lanling City so much?”

“It’s the exercise I’m after,” she said, smiling at him. “The Nie sect is a martial sect, remember? I’ll be going on more night-hunts in the future, if all goes well, and I’ll need to keep up.”

“Oh, but surely they’ll bring a carriage..? I don’t know if you really need to go on night-hunts –”

“I want to! It’ll be nice. Don’t worry about me so much, A-Xian –”

Wei Wuxian was shaking his head, smiling, and he wasn’t looking where he was going; perhaps that was why he bumped into the young woman.

But then she looked up at him, and he looked down at her, and he froze.

“Wen Qing?”

#mdzs #jiang yanli #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #wei wuxian #my fic #my fics #initiative #the untamed #includes my medical HCs for JYL and NHS #but no actual medical incidents

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dialovers-translations · 3 years

Text

Diabolik Lovers DARK FATE ー Shuu Maniac [Prologue]

ー The scene starts in the shopping district

Yui: ( ...This place has not changed at all. Although I suppose that only makes sense given we weren’t away for that long. )

( There don’t seem to be any rumors about wolves or such either. )

Shuu: Oi. Keep walking.

Yui: Ah, right.

( Somehow the roles are reversed for once... )

Shuu: ...

Yui: ...? What’s wrong?

Shuu: You just thought ‘I don’t want you to be the one telling me that’, didn’t you?

Yui: I-I didn’t!

Shuu: Heh...Not that it’d matter. Let’s go.

Yui: ( ...Thank god. Seems like Shuu-san is back to being his usual self too. )

ー Shuu starts walking away

Yui: ( ...Huh? )

Uhm, Shuu-san? Are we dropping by somewhere on the way home?

( He’s going into the wrong direction. I wonder where he’s headed? )

Shuu: You’ll find out if you follow me.

Yui: ...?

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the outside of the Mukami manor

Yui: ( This is... )

Shuu: Let’s go inside.

Yui: Eh!? Shuu-san...!

ー They enter the manor

*Creaaaak*

*Thud*

Shuu: ...Nobody’s around.

Yui: Shuu-san, this is the Mukami’s residence...Right?

Shuu: Yeah.

Yui: Are you sure this is fine?

Shuu: Entering this place uninvited, you mean? I don’t see the problem. This place technically belongs to the Old Man after all.

I assume the Mukami’s fled to the Demon World in fear of the Wolves as well. We’re lucky it’s currently empty. (1)

Yui: ...

Shuu: Don’t worry.

Unlike at the Demon World, the lunar eclipse has come to an end already here. Its effects on us species have faded as well so rest assured.

We’re borrowing this manor just in case. The Sakamaki manor is being sniffed out by those wolves after all.

Yui: ( Shuu-san actually thought things through. )

( He makes a valid point...I might have gotten worried for nothing. )

Shuu: Hm...So this is what this house looks like.

Even though we’re all Vampires, our lives are so different. It feels odd.

Yui: ( The atmosphere is most definitely different from the Sakamaki’s place. How should I put it? You could say the mood is more light-hearted...Ah. )

ー She walks over to the wall

Yui: ( It’s a photograph of the four Mukami brothers...! )

( They really are close. It looks like a family picture... )

Shuu-san, look at thiー Wait, huh? Shuu-san?

( He vanished into thin air...Where could he have gone? )

ー The scene shifts to the kitchen

Shuu: ...

Yui: Ah, there he is. Shuu-san, so this is where you’ve been.

( I wonder what he’s doing, staring at the shelf with silverware? ...Ah. )

They’ve got color-coded silverware. Since there’s four kinds in total, I suppose they all got matching ones?

Shuu: ...They’re matching as brothers?

Yui: Looks like it. They really are close-knit...

Shuu: Is this what you’d call...’a family’?

Yui: Eh?

Shuu: Taking pictures while smiling or using matching plates and cutlery...Those are things I can’t even fathom happening over at our place.

Yui: ( I can’t imagine the Sakamaki’s doing that either... )

Shuu: I’ve always felt disconnected from the concept of ‘a family’.

Yui: That’s not true. You have plenty of brothers, don’t you?

Shuu: Too many. Besides...With the Old Man being the way he is, you can hardly call us an ideal family.

I won’t deny that I’ve always been surrounded by other people for as long as I can remember but...I’m a little reluctant whether or not I can call them ‘family’.

Just having someone there by your side doesn’t necessarily make you feel fulfilled after all.

Yui: ( Shuu-san... )

( Perhaps he actually often felt lonely? )

( Even if he was always surrounded by others, they only stuck to his side because he is the eldest son of the family...So he might have actually been ‘alone’ this whole time. )

Shuu: ...How about your place?

Yui: My home?

( It’s rare for him to ask about me. )

Shuu: I don’t understand very well, but as a human, you can probably grasp the concept of a family very well, no?

Yui: I wonder...My family might be a little different from the average household as well.

Shuu: Is that so?

Yui: I was raised by a single father after all. Father is my only family.

Therefore, I don’t think I can confidently say ‘this is a family’. However...

I am certain that a close-knit family like the Mukami’s is what an ideal family should be like!

Shuu: Ideal, huh...? Do you feel envious of them?

Yui: Just a little. Me and Father were close too but sometimes I did feel lonely by the lack of any other family members as well.

Shuu: You are actually capable of feeling lonely too? I had no idea.

...No, I suppose I never attempted to see it. I figured there was no point.

Even though we’ve spent so much time together...

Yui: Shuu-san?

Shuu: ...Wanna try becoming a family?

Yui: Eh...!?

Shuu: As fellow strangers to the concept. Well, we’re just gonna play pretend, of course.

Yui: Ah, play pretend...

( He startled me...Because he suddenly dropped the word ‘family’... )

Shuu: It would be best to try it out before we actually do become one, right?

Yui: ...!

( When he suddenly says these kinds of things, it’s bad for my heart... (2) )

( ...But, if it’s with Shuu-san. )

( Exactly because we’ve both experienced loneliness before...It might be nice to try and make our own ideal family here. )

( It’s just the two of us after all. Even if we’re just pretending...As long as I’m with the person I love. )

Then, can I make just one request?

Shuu: What? Tell me.

Yui: I want plates and cups. Of course, matching ones. Is that okay?

Shuu: ...I don’t see why not?

Yui: Also let’s take a picture together too...What else?

Shuu: Sleep in the same bed, for example?

Yui: ...Can we?

Shuu: ...You’re weird today.

Yui: I mean...It’s a normal thing for family to do.

Let’s have our meals together too. It might not be bad to cook together every once in a while as well.

Shuu: ...

Yui: No?

Shuu: Oh well, why not? Even though it’s a drag. That’s what family does, no?

You can do as you wish. Whatever you desire, I do too.

Yui: Fufu, that sounds very family-like too. My family’s happiness is my happiness after all.

Shuu: I see. In that caseーー

ー Shuu moves closer

*Rustle*

Yui: ...!

Shuu: If I do something that makes me happy, it’ll please you too, no?

...Look my way.

Yui: ( I wonder if he’ll suck my blood...? )

Shuu: ...Nn...

*Smooch*

Yui: ( ...A kiss instead of sucking my blood...? )

Shuu: ...Somebody seems disappointed.

Yui: I’m not disappointed or anythi...

Shuu: Just be honest. You were looking forward to having your blood sucked, didn’t you?

That’s why this doesn’t satisfy you...Nn...

*Smooch*

Shuu: ...So, how do you truly feel?

Yui: ...I don’t feel dissatisfied...

When it’s you...I feel happy no matter what.

Shuu: ...Hah, you really are a natural at flipping my switch, aren’t you?

I was going to leave it at just a kiss, but I’ve changed my mind.

Show me your neck. I’ll live up to those expectations...and suck your blood.

Nn...!

ー Shuu bites her

Shuu: Nn, nn...Phew...

Yui: ...

Shuu: Hah...You’re making a great expression right now.

From here on out...I’ll please you in tons of ways.

My family’s happiness is my happiness, was it? ...Yui.

Nn...

*SCENE SHIFTS*

ー The scene shifts to the entrance hall of the Sakamaki castle

Reiji: ...

Kanato: You’re still here, Reiji?

Why not give up already? They’re not coming back anyway.

Laito: Well, leaving Shuu aside, I do think losing Bitch-chan as well was a miscalculation on our part~

Reiji: My thoughts exactly. Why did she decide to chase after Shuu?

Shuu is to blame as well. We are being prompted to proceed with the preparations of the evening gala, yet, that good-for-nothing...

Now that it’s come to this, I shall take command and make the necessary prepaーー...

Laito: Speaking of which, where is Subaru-kun? I know that Ayato-kun can’t move just yet.

Kanato: He has isolated himself per usual. I assume he’s sulking because Yui-san is no longer around?

ー Subaru walks up to them

Subaru: ...Fuck off! Sulking, me!?

Laito: You’re so quick to react, Subaru-kun~ You must be dying from loneliness now that Bitch-chan’s gone, huh?

Subaru: Like I said, who are you callin’ lonely!? Imma fuckin’ end you!?

Reiji: Haah...Keep quiet, you lot!

...I suppose we have no other choice. We shall wait just a tad bit longer.

However, my patience is running thin. ...Shuu.

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) 助かる or ‘tasukaru’ literally means ‘to save’ or ‘to rescue’. However, the term ‘助かった’ or ‘sentence + が助かった’ is used to express relief or even gratitude towards a certain person or situation. In this case, the Mukami manor being empty works in favor of Shuu’s plan to hide there while the Wolves are possibly trailing them.

(2) Technically Yui says she is ‘troubled’ by Shuu-san who will suddenly say those kinds of things.

→ LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

<- [ Dark Epilogue ] [ Maniac 01 ] ->

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #shuu sakamaki #dark fate #diabolik lovers translation #dfshuumaniacprolog

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missdawnandherdusk · 3 years

Text

No Place Like Home

Draco X Hufflepuff!Reader

An Alternate Reality (read the entire series here)

Summary: In a world with no such thing as magic, or wars, or potions, what happens when you find yourself in a muggle school with an equally confused Draco... and your very alive father? It’s a perfect world... but it’s not home.

A/n: So, I watched WandaVision, and well I have a few things to say. Anyway here’s out Hufflepuff darling in the same situation and me toying with what she would choose on a much shorter time line. Let me know if this hurts you as much as it hurts me.

“Miss Y/l/n!” The loud voice woke me from my slumber, and I sat up abruptly. “Please sleep on your own time and not in my classroom!”

“Sorry, professor,” I rubbed my eyes, blinking.

The room was a bright cream color with vibrant posters on the walls. The desks were a cheap knock off wood and the chairs were plastic and metal. The floor was tile. The projector showed... chemistry. The notebook under my arms was filled with chemistry notes all done in pencil. The kids around me weren’t in uniform. They were... muggle.

I was in a muggle school.

Internalizing my panic, I started to think furiously about how in the world I had ended up in a muggle school. I should be at... and I should be with... and I had a... with... and I was planning...

A splintering agony surged through my head. I gasped and pressed against my temples, trying to ease the pain.

“Miss Y/l/n! If you are going to disrupt my class, then please remove yourself!” My eyes flashed up to a stranger. I didn’t know a face that surrounded me.

I stumbled out of my seat and out of the classroom into the hallway. Again, the floors were tile and the walls an awful plaster painted an off-white. A bulletin board gave information about school spirit and upcoming events. All of the paper was an obnoxious neon color that did not aid my headache. My hand went to my bag to get out a... I frowned. I normally had them on me. They... they were...

In my painful fervor, I ran into someone. My headache subsided at the sight of him.

“Draco!” I sighed in relief.

“Yes? Do I know you?” He raised an eyebrow at me, a cold look on his face. I took a small step back my brows furrowing. My hand went to the hollow of my neck where my locket normally hung, but it was gone.

“Draco,” I couldn’t believe it. “You don’t.... you don’t know who I am?”

“Well, I’ve seen you around school, but no.” He shrugged. “I didn’t know you knew my name,”

I know a lot more than just your name, I thought in vain. I worried my lip, trying to find the best course of action. There was no answer for me.

“I’m... Y/n,” I spoke slowly, to be sure of my words. “Could you... help me?”

“Are you alright?” He almost scoffed.

“Uh... no not really,” I admitted. “I have a terrible headache and it feels like the room is spinning a bit,”

He sighed and rubbed his face. “Alright, I’ll take you to the nurse,” I didn’t expect his kindness. I don’t think he expected it either judging by the furrow of his brow and the indignation in his eyes.

As we walked along in the hall, I attempted to memorize the route, or even find some sort of marker that differentiated one hall from the next but there was nothing. It was a maze of mundane.

The only comfort I had was walking by Draco’s side. There was still something off. I yearned to reach and hold his hand. The longer we walked along the quicker my headache subsided. I had glimpses into memories of laughing with him. Dancing, walking, kissing, smiling, fighting...

I looked down at my hands and for the blink of an eye they were covered in blood. I gasped and the pain in my head intensified.

“Hey, woah, are you okay?” Draco asked, steadying me.

“No,” I screwed my eyes shut. “Something... something’s... Merlin I wish I could remember!”

“Did... Did you just say Merlin?”

“...Yes,” I dared to open my eyes to see curiosity in Draco’s.

“Who in the world are you?” He was mystified, reaching out to steady me. As soon as his hand touched my shoulder, everything came into perspective.

A thousand memories came flooding back. Train rides and magic. Slytherins and Hufflepuffs. Harry Potter and Quidditch. Wands and short hair. Robes and castles. And Draco, a thousand times Draco. In every memory, woven into every part of my psyche. It always came back to him. It always centered on him.

“Draco, something is wrong,” I stressed, pacing the hall, the pain in my head gone now that my memories returned. “This... this isn’t right,”

“Well of course it isn’t right,” His words sparked a flicker of hope in my chest. Maybe I wasn’t crazy after all. “I shouldn’t be here. We should both be in class.”

“But you should be here!” I raised my voice. “How can you not remember me, Draco! How can you not remember everything we went through together!? Why does no one remember!? Where are we!?” My hands went to my hair to run through it anxiously but the perfectly done updo constrained me. “Oh this stupid hair!” I started to pull out the pins and ties that held it into place and muss it up until it was falling at odd angles around my shoulders. “Oh, I wish I had my wand so I could chop it all off!”

Draco’s eyes flashed to mine at my final statements, something familiar in his eyes. The Draco that I knew. The one who I loved. But it was soon gone replaced by the caring ditz of a schoolboy.

“No,” I refuted, wanting that look back. “Wait,” I paused, going to him. “You remembered something. I know that look,”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He stood, turning his back to me.

“Draco Malfoy,” I snapped. “You remember! Merlin all it took was me shouting at you! You arrogant egotistical little twat!” I was giddy with the fact that Draco remembered.

“I don’t—” Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. “I... I can’t see it all. Just... flashes. Brief glimpses... then it’s gone,” He turned to me, his brows knitted together. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “There’s just... there’s something off. Something missing. There’s supposed to be magic. And wands, and something called Hogwarts... and... Voldemort,”

Draco hissed and glared at me. “Don’t you ever say that name!” He pinned me to the hallway wall.

My eyes widened in shock at his outburst, but it was a brief moment because suddenly Draco was struggling to stand, staggering over to adjacent wall to steady him.

“Draco?” The concern in my voice was evident.

“I... I think I need to lie down,” He choked out.

“You do remember,” The revelation quelled my old fears but brought on new ones.

“I... my head hurts,”

“I know,” I comforted softly, reaching out for him. “Let’s get you to the nurse,”

“You have no idea where that is,” He muttered, leaning against me as a crutch.

“Not really,” A smile played at my lips.

“I liked your hair shorter... I can almost see it...” He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. “Why do you remember fully, and I can’t?”

“I don’t know...” I mused. “I don’t know if I’m even supposed to remember anything. This has to be some sort of spell... a curse.”

We had found our way to the office, Draco conscious enough that he remembered the way. The receptionist eyed us, but Draco with his usual schmooze, lied elegantly. It made me smile, knowing that he was still just as clever here as back... back home.

“Alright sweetie,” The receptionist clacked on her computer and smiled sweetly. “I’ll just call your dad and have him come and get you,”

“My dad? You’ll call my dad?” I stammered out, leaning against the raised front desk for support.

“Or I can call your mom if it’s too much trouble,” The receptionist smiled kindly. “Are you sure you’re alright dearie?” The nurse asked.

“She’s had a long day,” Draco held my shoulder, giving a tight smile. “It’s her migraine. It throws her off the rest of the day, hence our reason for coming.”

The receptionist smiled kindly and made the call... to my dad. Draco and I waited for a while in the lobby, near a fake Ficus that had no hope to flourish in the florescent lighting. He held my hand the entire time and let me lean on him for comfort and strength. I didn’t doubt that he could feel anxiety rolling off me in waves. Merlin, I wish I had a potion or two on me! It would allow me to think straight even for a moment.

“Is that my little sunshine?” The voice made me jump out of my skin and turn.

“Papa?” I gasped and broke free from Draco’s grasp and ran into my father’s arms, tears stinging my eyes.

“Hey there pumpkin,” My dad chuckled. “You haven’t called me that since you were two... you feeling alright sunshine?”

I drew away, staring... memorizing him. Photos didn’t do the kindness in his eyes any justice. And the warmth of his hold was intoxicating. It was everything I ever wanted.

“Just tell me it’s gonna be okay,” I whispered without thinking.

“Of course, it is,” He smiled, petting my hair softly. “Everything is going to be just fine,”

“Dad?” I asked. He looked at me expectant. “I love you,”

“I love you too, sunshine,” His smile reached and lit up his eyes. “Now let’s get you home. You’ve had a long day,” He looked over my shoulder, to Draco. “Thank you, son, for taking care of her,”

The look in Draco’s eyes told me how much those few words meant to him, and how much Draco remembered.

“Hang on, dad,” I paused taking a step toward Draco.

It was a choice before me. Draco and a life of magic and danger and true love and battles between good and evil. Or my father and the chance at a normal, magic free life at a muggle school with no danger or fears that Draco could be a part of... that my dad could be a part of. The gravity of the situation made me reach to my locket for comfort but was met with the tangled waves of my long hair.

“This isn’t right,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face. “Don’t make me choose,”

“Let’s go home, sunshine,” My dad spoke as if I hadn’t. As if I weren’t crying. I looked back at him one last time.

“I’m sorry,” I was really crying now. “But this isn’t my home. I love you, dad,”

Tears blurred my vision, but I felt Draco stand firm and ready beside me. My hand reached for a wand that wasn’t there.

“You couldn’t just be happy?” A voice echoed in the now vacant office. Draco hovering beside me, my breath quickened. “I tried to give you everything! A happy ending! Couldn’t you just be happy!?”

“...Mother?” I blinked rapidly, clearing my tears. “What did you do!?” I shouted at no one, at the disembodied voice.

“Just once, couldn’t you be happy? And play your part?” She materialized in front of us. “You could have been happy, my darling,”

“This?” I gestured around me at the white sterile scene and florescent lighting. I glanced up at Draco. “I’m not happy if I’m not where I belong,”

“In the middle of a war?” My mother sounded desperate. “As the leader of all of Hogwarts? In danger!? Fatherless!?” I flinched at that.

“With Draco,” I took his hand in mine. “And my friends. And... Abby.” I gasped, suddenly recalling. “And...”

“Pansy,” Draco breathed out, struggling to form more of the memory.

“We have to go back,” There was no denying that. “This isn’t right,”

“If you want them, they can be here too. Anything you want.” She was desperate to make me stay, “You could be happy here. Walt... Your father could be here, no one could hurt you,” There were tears in her eyes. “You’d be safe,”

“I want to go home,” I choked out.

The world changed around me, and I felt a weight off my shoulders. Quite literally. My hair was short and cropped again, and a familiar weight hung around my neck. I reached up and ran my fingers over my locket.

“It isn’t safe, but it is good,” I murmured.

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