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zintranslations · 4 years ago

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Kaleidoscope of Death, Ch. 119

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Novel Updates

Chapter 119: Real Life

There were a total of eight chests in the kitchen. Xiao Ji had opened three, and Xiao Mei had opened three. There were two left.

Lin Qiushi went and gave these two chests a listen, confirming that one chest had something inside and the other was empty.

After the contents of the chests were confirmed, things got a lot easier. Lin Qiushi opened the empty chest and made sure the tunnel wasn't inside. Then beside him, Ruan Nanzhu used the wooden stake in his hands on the other chest. He stabbed the stake straight through the top of the chest and then used a dining room stool as a hammer, pounding the stake in inch by inch.

Following the stake's puncturing, an awful scream came from inside the chest. Large quantities of bright red blood seeped forth from the top, soaking the black wood through.

This was a cry they'd heard many times before—the cry of the Hako Onna. It was just that this time, her crying felt somewhat more wretched. Those standing around the chest listened on, silent and numb.

They were already used to death. Facing the Hako Onna once more, their senses of fright had already been sanded down flat. Luck was too large a component of this game; had they not been able to find the wooden stake, or had they not met the self-sacrificing Xiao Mei, this matter likely would've involved a lot more twists and turns, as well as several more victims.

Compared to when they first came in, there was more exhaustion on everybody's faces.

Ruan Nanzhu held Lin Qiushi's hand and stood in front of the wooden chest, listening as the cries inside got weaker and weaker.

"Who's opening it?" Sun Yuanzhou's companion asked once the crying died down.

"I'll do it," Sun Yuanzhou said. "We've been under your care these past few days."

He obviously had some lifesaver item as well. Had Ruan Nanzhu not expended the Hako Onna's power cards, more people likely would've died.

He took a step forward and grabbed hold of the chest. With a light application of force, he lifted the lid.

When he did so everybody held their breaths, but it was about as they expected—the Hako Onna inside the chest had disappeared, leaving behind only a puddle of blood. Behind the blood was a dark cavity, and at the bottom of that cavity there was a long set of stairs leading off into the distance.

The group entered the tunnel and followed the stairs all the way down.

Finally, at the end of the stairs, they saw a black metal door.

Ruan Nanzhu brought out the key, stepped forward, and opened the door. After it opened, he picked up the fallen hint slip.

And so the tenth door ended just like that. Both Ruan Nanzhu and Lin Qiushi got out safely and took the tenth door's hint slip with them.

Before taking off, Sun Yuanzhou tactfully expressed to Ruan Nanzhu a desire to work with them again.

Ruan Nanzhu was noncommittal and only took down his contact information. After that, he and Lin Qiushi followed that glowing tunnel into the real world.

Coming back to reality and getting to breathe this air again, Lin Qiushi once again felt the beauty of being alive. He rushed up the stairs, only to find Ruan Nanzhu standing at the other end like he'd just been ready to come down.

Then the two wordlessly caught each other in a hug, taking in the heat that emanated from each other's bodies. Only this way could they be certain that they'd survived the door.

Cheng Qianli just happened to be passing by, and when he saw the two wrapped around each other, he could only swallow the dog food and mutter about how it was the middle of the day, and he was a minor, could you guys please check yourselves.

Ruan Nanzhu shot him a glare and Cheng Qianli scampered away.

"Did you get the hint?" Lin Qiushi asked Ruan Nanzhu.

"I got it," Ruan Nanzhu answered.

"How does it compare to the one you got last time?"

Ruan Nanzhu thought for a moment and, without answering, took the hint slip from his pocket to hand to Lin Qiushi. Lin Qiushi took the hint and read the words on it, expression turning into one of consternation. On the tiny paper hint slip, there were only two words written: No Solution.

"How could this be?!" Lin Qiushi asked, stunned.

From the first through tenth door, the hint that each door offered provided them with some information. But the hint to the eleventh door was somehow "no solution."

He glanced up at Ruan Nanzhu. "The one you got before is the same?"

"Mh," Ruan Nanzhu nodded.

This was why he went through the tenth door again, because the hint he'd gotten last time was utterly useless and wasn't of any help at all.

The eleventh door did not provide them with a hint for use; the hint slip this time proved it hadn't been an anomaly.

Looking at the hint, Lin Qiushi's heart sank. But after some thought, he told Ruan Nanzhu: "That's okay. As long as I'm with you, I don’t feel so scared."

Ruan Nanzhu couldn't help but grin, pressing a kiss to Lin Qiushi's forehead.

Though the eleventh door's hint slip was a heavy weight to bear, they had to go on living.

That night, Lin Qiushi saw a piece of news on the television. It said that there had been a serious car accident downtown, and that a bus carrying more than a dozen people drove right off the bridge, resulting in six deaths and over twenty injuries.

In the list of fatalities, Lin Qiushi saw a young man named Li Bomei. It reminded him of something, and he let out a soft breath.

At least Xiao Mei and her lover had one last chance to say goodbye. In reality, they could hold each other and die happy. They might have even been able to give each other one gentle kiss, and make promises for the next life.

Ruan Nanzhu understood as well, but he picked up the remote and changed the channel.

"It's always worse to be the one left behind," Lin Qiushi said. "It's much better if they could leave together."

"It's hard to let that happen though," Ruan Nanzhu said. It was hard to let a lover die; you only hoped he could live on happily.

Lin Qiushi turned around to look at him.

"Then have you thought of the fact that once you come out, you have to face your lover leaving a second time?" And you had to see him die right in front of you. That was surely a bit too cruel.

"True."

Though Ruan Nanzhu's voice was faint, he agreed with what Lin Qiushi said.

There was a long time still between the tenth and the eleventh doors. They didn't have to be in a hurry.

But in a few more months, Cheng Yixie and Cheng Qianli would be going into their tenth door.

That was why in this period of time, Lin Qiushi basically didn't see the twins at all. It seemed that Cheng Yixie was taking Cheng Qianli through a crazy amount of doors, so many that Cheng Yixie nearly lost his mind.

"Uwaaa why me," Cheng Qianli wept in complaint to Lin Qiushi. "My brother's taking me through a door every three days, I really can't take it anymore!"

Lin Qiushi watched him in sympathy.

"Go on, don't worry about it. I'll take care of Toast for you," he said while he petted Toast's fat little butt.

Cheng Qianli had more to say, but Cheng Yixie came and whisked him away. Watching these brothers, Lin Qiushi thought this was quite funny.

Due to Ruan Nanzhu's presence, Obsidian had always commanded high prices and huge quantities of commissions. Countless people wanted to hire Ruan Nanzhu to take them through their doors.

Gu Longming contacted Lin Qiushi over the internet with a tactful message about how he would like to join Obsidian.

Once Lin Qiushi received Gu Longming's intentions, he went and spoke to Ruan Nanzhu about it.

"What are your thoughts?" Ruan Nanzhu asked Lin Qiushi.

"I think he's got a lot of potential." Lin Qiushi spoke his assessment of Gu Longming. "He's a good seed."

Ruan Nanzhu gave it some thought.

"When's his sixth door?"

"The beginning of next year, I think." Lin Qiushi made some simple calculations. "It should be around new years exactly."

"Don't give him an answer yet," Ruan Nanzhu said. "I want to meet him inside the doors first."

It wouldn't be too late to bring Gu Longming into Obsidian after he made certain Gu Longming had the qualifications. Not just anyone could join Obsidian, after all.

For a while, the mansion stayed busy. Those who did gigs did their gigs and those who trained trained. Only Lin Qiushi had absolutely nothing to do. At first he'd wanted to take some jobs from the forum, but Ruan Nanzhu had stopped him, telling him to wait until after the new year to take jobs. He ought to take this time to rest and replenish his spirits.

When December came, the weather grew cold. A snowstorm came about ten days in.

The heater was on inside the mansion, and Lin Qiushi was curled up on the couch, nodding off.

He didn't know where Ruan Nanzhu had gone off too. Ruan Nanzhu had been busy recently. It seemed to have something to do with White Deer.

Zhuang Rujiao returned to the mansion with snowflakes on her shoulders and hair. When Lin Qiushi heard noise, he looked up, saw her covered in snow, and asked, "you didn't bring an umbrella?"

"I didn't think it'd snow," Zhuang Rujiao said.

At this point, Lin Qiushi could see no hint of Xia Rubei on Zhuang Rujiao still. That cute, innocent scaredy-cat of a girl seemed to have been an illusion; only the woman before him now with the distant eyes was real.

"Something's happened at White Deer," Zhuang Rujiao spoke as she wiped her hair with a towel. "Jin Yurui is dead."

She announced Jin Yurui's death like she was talking about a matter of no importance at all.

Jin Yurui was the one who took over as White Deer's leader after Li Dongyuan's death. Lin Qiushi had only met her once before, and didn't think that she'd be gone not so long after.

"Because of a door?" Lin Qiushi asked.

"Mh," Zhuang Rujiao said. "I'm leaving." She picked up the hot tea on the table, taking a slow and neat sip. "I'll be the leader over at White Deer."

Lin Qiushi: "Can you do it?"

Zhuang Rujiao laughed: "I've got to, even if I can't. You have Ruan Nanzhu to protect you. The one protecting me is gone."

Lin Qiushi was silent.

"I really do envy you two. If I'd been able to become like you sooner, then he might not be dead." Zhuang Rujiao was talking about Li Dongyuan. "But the world never does sell medicine for regrets. I've been in your care these past months, thank you."

Though she'd lived at Obsidian for a while, she'd never truly become part of the group. Clearly, she'd anticipated leaving one day.

Lin Qiushi: "I hope everything goes well."

"Mh," Zhuang Rujiao said. "I'll take your well wishes."

After that, she went upstairs to pack up her stuff. Lin Qiushi went to the doorway and saw through the french windows that Ruan Nanzhu was back as well. Ruan Nanzhu wasn't coming inside though, only stood silently by the car at the front door.

White snowflakes fell on his raven-black hair, and his dark eyes were looking slightly down. His pretty lips were pressed together in a thin, taut line.

Lin Qiushi called out: "Ruan Nanzhu."

Ruan Nanzhu glanced up, and the corners of his mouth flicked up just for Lin Qiushi. Smiling sentiment tinted his eyes—nothing too strong, but plenty enough to warm Lin Qiushi's chest.

Lin Qiushi fetched an umbrella from the side of the door and went outside, opening it beside Ruan Nanzhu.

"Why don't you have an umbrella?"

Snow in the south was different from snow in the north; once fallen, it melted easily on a person. Ruan Nanzhu's shoulders and hair, therefore, all bore traces of wetness.

Ruan Nanzhu: "I forgot."

Lin Qiushi: "Are you driving her there?"

"Mh," Ruan Nanzhu nodded.

"What's the situation like at White Deer?" Lin Qiushi felt that things weren't actually so simple.

"Not great," Ruan Nanzhu said. "I'm not sure if she'll be able to hold it down."

Changing leaders twice in a row was not a good thing for White Deer. Had it been the Zhuang Rujiao of the past, then Ruan Nanzhu would definitely have not agreed to let her go. Now, however, Ruan Nanzhu chose to respect Zhuang Rujiao's wishes. Though Li Dongyuan wanted Zhuang Rujiao to live on well, did this sort of living at some point become a kind of torment?

This was a lesson that Lin Qiushi had taught Ruan Nanzhu, at least.

Zhuang Rujiao quickly packed up her stuff and came out. She did not have much with her; whether coming or going, she seemed like just a passerby.

"Safe travels," Lin Qiushi said to her.

"Thank you," Zhuang Rujiao replied, getting into Ruan Nanzhu's car.

So Lin Qiushi stood under the umbrella and watched as the car disappeared into the snowy distance.

This was the last time he'd see Zhuang Rujiao. Later, he'd learn from Ruan Nanzhu that Zhuang Rujiao did manage to hold White Deer down. She'd perfectly inherit Li Dongyuan's legacy.

"Did she kill Jin Yurui?" Lin Qiushi would ask Ruan Nanzhu when the time came.

"I don't know," Ruan Nanzhu would say. "I'm not sure, so I can't say either way. However, Jin Yurui did fail in a door that she and Zhuang Rujiao were passing together."

"Oh," Lin Qiushi said. "Then how did Li Dongyuan die?"

"Zhuang Rujiao says it has something to do with Jin Yurui. As for the truth, I don't know that either."

"Oh."

Not long after Zhuang Rujiao left, the new year came around. But because Cheng Yixie and Cheng Qianli were entering a door after the new year, they didn't go very over-the-top with this year's celebrations. The twins who usually headed home didn't go this time either, instead seizing the time to train on more doors.

Gu Longming's sixth door would be after the new year, around the tenth or so. When he learned that Lin Qiushi and Ruan Nanzhu were going into his sixth door with him, he was naturally ecstatic.

But Ruan Nanzhu still made it clear to him that they could not be protecting Gu Longming this time, nor could they make any guarantees about Gu Longming's survival, so Gu Longming should prepare himself for any incidents. Reading between the lines, he was basically telling Gu Longming to prepare a will, in case when the time came he’d come out the door, die, and have nothing arranged.

Gu Longming was shocked by how blunt this girl Zhu Meng was, and said Linlin ah, is this your girlfriend?

Lin Qiushi thought for a bit before answering yeah.

Gu Longming: "She's going in with us this time?"

Lin Qiushi: "Yes."

Gu Longming: "Is she good then?"

Lin Qiushi: "Better than me."

Gu Longming nodded, thinking that if she was better than Lin Qiushi, then she really must be amazing. And so he grew much happier.

As for the sixth door's hint, Ruan Nanzhu would be providing it. It was still being selected, and Lin Qiushi wasn't too worried.

The few days around the new year, the mansion was particularly lively.

Cheng Qianli finally got a couple of days off from Cheng Yixie, brazenly dragging Lin Qiushi with him to buy a bunch of fireworks in secret.

Lin Qiushi said, "but isn't it illegal to set off fireworks in this city?"

"We're the suburbs, sub-urban! Nobody cares."

Lin Qiushi looked at him in doubt.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." Cheng Qianli put on a pitiful face. "I've only got this one hobby, can't you indulge me a little bit?"

"Fine fine fine, I'll indulge you."

Then the two found a clearing to start lighting fireworks. Everybody else from the mansion watched from afar, and Lin Qiushi called, "come over and join us."

"That’s for kids," Chen Fei said. "Us adults couldn't possibly join you."

Lin Qiushi, "…"

Forget Chen Fei. Even Cheng Yixie beside him had the same sort of expression, the you guys are so childish I don't even want to speak to you kind of look.

Lin Qiushi glanced at Cheng Qianli grinning like a fool beside him and didn't know what to say for a whole minute.

But foolish Cheng Qianli didn't seem to know he was being judged, cackling with his butt stuck out as he lit the fireworks. He watched the fireworks shoot up off the ground and explode open in the night sky, bursting out into laughter.

"It's so pretty." His eyes curved up, grinning like a kid, pupils dyed the fireworks' rich colors.

Lin Qiushi looked over at Ruan Nanzhu, standing far away. Their gazes met, and saw a smile in each other's eyes.

But these smiles only lasted a few seconds before disappearing, because there came the sound of police sirens from the distance.

"Oh shit, run!!" Yi Manman roared. "If we're caught we'll be fined!"

So the group took off, Cheng Qianli darting and leaping like a rabbit. Lu Yanxue, who ran the slowest, was stomping her feet by the end, cursing, "if I'd known I wouldn't have worn heels today!"

They were quick to escape, and luckily did not get caught. They all got back into the mansion, laughing in living room, and Cheng Qianli still had the nerve to pout, complaining that the police came too quickly, he still had a bunch he hadn't lit yet!

"I told you not to get the rocket fireworks, but you wouldn't listen," Chen Fei said. "And look what's happened now."

Cheng Qianli's dream of beautiful fireworks was completely destroyed. The group cooked up the dumplings they’d prepared before and ate while they chatted, passing this lively new year's eve together.

After the countdown, Lin Qiushi snuck into Ruan Nanzhu's room, and the two slept in the same bed all evening.

This was the happiest new year's eve that Lin Qiushi had ever had. Last year, he hadn't been too familiar with Obsidian, but this year, he'd basically made it his home.

Ruan Nanzhu slept on his side with a hand on Lin Qiushi's waist, breaths hitting Lin Qiushi's neck.

It didn't take long for Lin Qiushi to grow sleepy, the two sinking into deep slumber.

The next morning, there were new guests at the mansion. Lin Qiushi first thought it was another organization, but when he went downstairs to look, he found that it was Cheng Yixie and Cheng Qianli's parents.

They'd brought with them a bunch of local specialties, and were passing them out with big smiles.

Lin Qiushi had heard about his parents from Cheng Qianli before, and that they didn't really know what their sons were doing. Cheng Yixie had lied and told them that they treated hereditary diseases here, but as for how they did so, he'd never told them in detail.

But for a once-hopeless family, the method no longer mattered. Tacitly, the parents didn't ask more questions—as long as their kids could survive, whatever the method, it didn't matter at all.

Cheng Qianli spotted Lin Qiushi standing in the second-floor hallway and waved him over, calling, "Qiushi, come down! My parents brought you a present!"

Lin Qiushi went downstairs and greeted Cheng Qianli's parents. Cheng Qianli stuffed a giant bag of candy into his arms.

"You like candy, don't you? My parents got these just for you."

Lin Qiushi thanked them with sincerity, but the father only gave him a smile filled with gratitude, saying his son's been in their care.

After that they all ate lunch together. Chen Fei had wanted to keep them here for a few more days, but the parents were staunch about still having things to do, so they had to leave first.

Cheng Yixie wanted to say something, but in the end, didn't try to keep them.

"Do they know?"

After they left, Lin Qiushi asked Cheng Yixie this.

"Probably not," Cheng Yixie said. "They seem to think we're doing something bad." Then, after a beat of silence, "but they also don't stop me or anything."

To a mother and father, the survival of their children was the biggest blessing, particularly for a pair of terminally ill twins. It was hard to imagine the sort of difficulty they’d faced when they thought they were losing both of their kids at once.

"Mh," Lin Qiushi said. "Maybe you can explain it to them."

"I have. They don't really believe it." Cheng Yixie glanced at the mansion. "But they should be less worried this time."

"Do they come often?" Lin Qiushi asked.

"Rarely," Cheng Yixie said. "This is the second time."

The first time was when Cheng Yixie brought Cheng Qianli over. Cheng Qianli had been just a kid then, passing his first door on luck and calling his brother in tears. Cheng Yixie rushed home overnight to take his little brother away with him. When his mother had learned what he wanted to do, her gaze had been filled with melancholy. But she hadn't stopped him, asking only: "Can Qianli really survive?"

Cheng Yixie had answered: "I'll do my best."

After that, she never asked again.

Cheng Qianli, who should've died years ago, was still alive and well; Cheng Yixie had kept his promise. He'd gotten that foolish brother of his past the torment of their sickness and made sure he lived on in health.

[Ch. 118] | [Ch. 120]

#kaleidoscope of death #xi zixu #cnovel #chinese translation #死亡萬花筒 #skjdfnsd the first time i read the novel and i got to this chapter ending i was like #UM UH OH EXCUSE ME DON'T YOU DARE MA'AM DON'T YOU DARE #but listen #my son's back next chapter so we're all winners here #get ready for rotten fish seasickness and claustrophobia #also badass LQS #also RNZ meeting GLM hahahahahahahahhahaa #but i'm being sent offsite for work for two days so there might not be a chapter update tomorrow #TTTT

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instasiswetrust · 3 years ago

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Cherry Lane Challenge Day 3 - Crow

A flutter of black, out of the corner of his left eye is what first catches his attention. His hand raises, signaling his party to stop in their tracks. There's some shuffling and a few annoyed huffs which he ignores in favor of taking careful steps towards what caught his eye in the first place.

All is still for a second and then- There. The dry sound of feathers brushing together.

Silently, he steps closer to the source of the sound. When he sees what it is, he relaxes minutely allowing himself another breath. It is but a crow, its left wing dragging over the dewy grass of the clearing. He sees no blood so he assumes it must be broken.

Another careful step takes him even closer to the scared bird, his fingers nearly brushing its feathers, so close-

"Steve, what's the hol- Is that a bird?"

Tommy and the rest of the hunting party burst into the clearing with too loud steps and raised voices, startling the bird into a frantic state once again. It squawks in its fear, broken wing fluttering pitifully as it tries to escape what it assumes to be a predator.

"I almost had it, Tommy!" He turns to his companion, features set into an angry scowl. He may only be seventeen but he was the Crown Prince and they should've listened to his orders! "Why did you break position?"

Instead of answering his question, Tommy walks past him as crouches right by the bird, poking it with a stick and laughing at its resulting squawk. "Can't believe you stopped a hunting party just to save a bird, Stevie. What are you? Snow White?"

Heat rises to the prince's cheeks and he smacks the stick out of Tommy's hands. "Leave it. It's already hurt enough without you making it worse."

Tommy quirks an eyebrow, teeth bared into a nasty smirk. He gives a mock bow that makes Steve's eyes narrow.

"As you wish, milord."

And then, making sure he's got Steve full attention, he gives the injured bird a sharp kick sending it smacking against a tree with a feeble squawk.

The bird struggles to upright itself, collapses, and tries again, before eventually just laying there. Unmoving if not for the minuscule shifts of its diaphragm. All Steve can do is watch, knowing full well that if he so much dares make a move to help it again, Tommy might outright try to crush it under the sole of his boot.

Under the raucous laughter of the soldiers, he follows the hunting party back to the deer trail they were following, the back of his neck red with poorly contained rage. All thoughts of injured crows and helpless birds are stored at the back of his brain where he no longer has to think about them again.

---

So that night, when he walks into his chambers half-drunk on too much ale and a hearty roast, the last thing he expects is to find a girl sitting on his desk chair. Her vermillion hair is cropped short and would help her pass for a man were it not for her curvaceous figure, so distinctly female even under the black robes she wears. On her head, a crooked hat sits adorned with what he thinks are feathers.

As he steps inside, she stands up and he notices her eyes appear yellow behind her spectacles.

"Who are you?" He tries to sound authoritative, like the prince he's supposed to be, but he's too drunk to manage anything more than slurred inquisitiveness.

"Don't you recognize me?" Her lips barely move as she speaks and yet her voice comes out as a shrill squawk, not too different from the frantic sounds of the crow in the forest. It makes him flinch, taking a step back. "Maybe this will help jog your memory."

Under his watchful gaze, he sees her shift into the same crow he saw that morning. His eyes follow the bird as it flies around the room once, before landing on the chair. A blink later, and the girl from before is sitting in the same spot.

No. Not a girl.

A witch.

Because of fucking course the crow had to be a witch. That was just his life.

"Look, I'm sorry for what Tommy did to you earlier today and I truly wished to help you but if I did-"

"But if you did, your companions might've killed me while you watched." She hums, inspecting her sharp nails with clear disinterest. "Those are but excuses and we both know it."

"They are not-!"

The witch clicks her tongue disapprovingly and he finds the words he meant to say dying on his tongue. Fear rises in him, and only then does he consider that the reason she's here and not with Tommy is that he's the one she's planning to hurt.

"It is an excuse, darling." She fixes him with a sharp glare. "You're Steve Harrington, Crown Prince of the kingdom of Hawkmond. They should respect you and yet your own foot soldiers treat you like you're below the sole of their feet."

A feeble protest rises in his throat but she only has but to look, before silence descends upon him again. The worst part? She is absolutely right.

"You're weak-willed. Spineless. A disaster in the making." She huffs, taking the few steps that separate them until they are standing almost nose to nose. "I shall not allow a person like that to ruin what this kingdom could become."

In her yellow eyes, he sees rage flash however briefly, and he wonders what sort of circumstances led a witch to care this much for the outcome of a whole kingdom. It is but a split-second judgment, yet it's all he manages.

For the next thing he knows, pain radiates from every single nerve ending in his body. He falls upon his knees, writhing in agony, and through his anguished screams, he swears he can hear the witch croon in a sticky-sweet voice.

Scion of swords and kings

A curse of feather and blood

Placed upon thee

For thine will is brittle as bone

This shape thou shall keep

Til’ the day thy soul’s to pass

Unless thy lesson is learned

And thee flies with thine own wings

By the next morning, every single person in the Capitol knows Crown Prince Steve Harrington has gone missing. None a single clue left behind to find him.

---

He finds out pretty quickly that the best way to find food in the forest is to follow the wolves.

It's been two months since the night he was cursed, and Steve's come to the conclusion that while sometimes annoying, being a bird wasn't as awful as he first assumed it would be. Flying was nice once he managed to get the hang of it, and messing with the occasional villager while he indulged in the instinctual desire to steal shiny things was something he hadn't expected to enjoy so much.

But he really could do without the feeding.

The first few days he had outright refused to take part of any rotten bit of meal he found, no matter how appetizing it might've seemed to his new instincts.

By day four he had to give in and eat, or he risked worse injuries.

It had been a distasteful ordeal up until he had found the wolf pack during his first full moon as a crow. Night had fallen, and as he made his way through the thick trunks on unsteady talons, he had heard the first howl. For a second, he had almost considered leaving. Retaining this half-human form was still something he struggled with and he wished to enjoy the little time he had before he once again had to return to his feathery prison.

But the call of the wolves ensnared him, and he had to find them.

Except none of them were normal wolves, as he found out once morning came.

From what he has observed in the last month, most members of the pack preferred to stick to their wolf forms as much as they could. Occasionally, one or two of them would venture into the closest town for certain necessities but that was about it.

It was weird.

It was also fascinating.

They didn't seem to mind his prolonged stay, in fact, it almost looked like they welcomed him among their midst without so much as a second thought. He didn't question it, just enjoyed it for the time being although he always made sure he only shifted into his halfling form where the wolves wouldn't find him.

At least, that had been the plan.

But now, staring into the ice-blue eyes of the blonde wolf he had started thinking as his wolf, he realizes that he overlooked one tiny but very important detail.

Wolves tended to have a keen sense of smell.

Well, shit.

Silence pervades the small nook between the trees he had taken as his hiding spot away from the pack, as he simply stares back at the wolf. Waiting for something, maybe a shift, a lunge. Anything.

Except a whole minute passes with nothing happening, and Steve is starting to feel foolish.

"So is this the part where you try and eat me? Or warn me to stay away from the pack?" He chances, hoping for a reaction.

The wolf cocks its head to the side, blue eyes looking almost mocking before there's a ripple and a human is crouching in its place. A very blond, very handsome, human with ice blue eyes. Who's also kind of naked.

Huh.

"The fact that you think nobody knew what you were as soon as you hopped into the clearing that night is telling." At Steve's confused look, the wolf (the man?) chuckles. Guess he was right about the mocking part. "You reek of magic, little bird. Magic and human flesh."

"Well, how was I supposed to know?" He snaps, the small feathers that cover his neck fluffing up.

"Common sense?" There's a smirk this time, along with a flash of fangs. "Did your mother not teach you about magical signatures once you came out of the egg?"

"I- ah" He falters, unsure if he should explain that he wasn't born like this but rather turned into this. He runs a talon through the feathers that have replaced his hair before sighing. "I'm a human, actually. Just got cursed to look like this."

The man-wolf hums, giving him an appraising look. "That explains a few things."

Steve scoffs, ready to stand up and leave this guy alone to go bother somebody else when suddenly he feels a heavyweight drop onto his lap. When he looks down, he's met with a pair of ice-blue eyes looking back at him.

He wonders, not for the first time, why he picked this particular wolf to stick close to out of all the others.

"Does the little birdy have a name?" That smirk is back again and it almost makes him blush. Makes him glad that his whole skin is now covered in black fluffy feathers.

"If I tell you, will you stop calling me that?"

"Nope. But I might give you my name too."

It sounds like a fair deal at least. And that way he could stop calling him man-wolf in his head.

"Steve."

"Steve. Hm. Not quite what I expected." It's been so long since the last time someone said his name, it feels weird hearing it now from someone that is not himself. "Mine's Billy, by the way."

"And what did you expect, Billy?" The name feels foreign on his tongue but he figures time will make it easier. After all, it's not like he ever can return to Hawksmond unless whatever conditions the witch placed upon the curse are met.

Billy shrugs, stretching languidly across Steve's lap in all his naked glory. Something that Steve's doing his best to steadfastly ignore. "Some fancy bullshit like Stefano or Guillermino."

He snorts at that, covering his mouth with a clawed talon. "Why would you even think that?"

"You look the part, little birdy."

#CherryLaneChallenge #steve harrington #barbara holland #tommy hagan #billy hargrove #harringrove #fantasy au #i have no idea what this is but enjoy #shotout to my friend who helped me with the curse bit #you're a lifesaver vani <3 #werewolf!billy hargrove #crow!steve harrington

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unnecessarywriting · 4 years ago

Text

Loneliness is Not an Option - Remus Lupin

A/N: Here is my last Christmas fic for this year. I hope you all enjoyed all of them that I uploaded. This is one that I’ve had on my mind for a week now. It’s short and sweet, although it starts a little angsty. It came from the song “Please Come Home for Christmas” and I couldn’t help but give a little love to Remus. Thank you all and I hope you all had a Merry Christmas!

Loneliness is Not an Option

How do we define loneliness? Such an existential question comes with a backstory, so here it is. It was Christmas night. Yes, you had spent the holiday completely on your own, but it wasn’t Remus’ fault. It also wasn’t the fault of any of your friends. It was quite depressing how you had no one to comfort you, or send you fun Christmas cards, or even just wish you a Happy Christmas. They all had duties to the Order. You tried to join, but Remus was insistent that he keep you safe. You still participated in certain activities, but he had wanted at least one person from the friend group to live their dreams. That’s what you were supposed to be doing, except it wasn’t going as planned.

You and Remus had bought a house right out of school. You were excited to start living with the love of your life, but you hadn’t anticipated how often he would not be home. You knew it wasn’t his fault. You honestly thought that he wanted to be home with you more than you wanted him home with you. In the beginning of the holiday season, you thought that you would be lucky, but when he walked into the living with a sunken look on his face, you knew he wasn’t going to be around often. You were rightfully disappointed that you wouldn’t be able to celebrate your first Christmas outside of Hogwarts with Remus, but you understood that the war was a bit more pressing.

The sadness didn’t really sink in until you decorated the tree. You had always dreamed of the situation being filled with laughter, playful kisses, and new memories, but that isn’t how it happened. You were alone, drunk, and singing along to muggle Christmas songs that came on the radio. It was about a week before Christmas when you put the tree up. You tried to put it off so you could decorate it with Remus, but when a letter came from him telling you that he might not be back until after the holiday, you stopped waiting and pulled out the firewhiskey. When everything was on the tree except for the star on top, you sat down on the ground. Your eyes traced over the outline of the tree, but the Christmas spirit avoided your soul. You sighed to yourself.

“This next one is a new release from the Eagles. Here is “Please Come Home for Christmas,” you heard the radio spit out. You laughed at the irony, but listened anyway. As the lyrics flowed through your ear, you felt the first tears of the holiday season start their journey down your face. You were completely alone.

The following days, it seemed like the world was playing some sort of prank on you. Everytime you turned on the radio, you heard that song’s melody flow through your body. It was catchy, you were not going to lie, but the words haunted you as you dreamed of being reunited with your love. Christmas Eve, you sat alone in your home, thinking about Remus. You hoped he was safe, but you wanted to be selfish. Just this once. You wanted him home with you. You stared into the fire and thought back to the last Christmas you spent with him.

“Moony, stop eating all of the chocolate. Share some with me at least.” He smiled with a bit of guilt. He was like a puppy who just got caught tearing up someone’s slippers. He was absolutely adorable. You fell into his embrace on the couch.

“I can’t wait until next Christmas,” he spoke earnestly. “It will be just the two of us, in our home. We will decorate the place to be the most comforting and joyful place. And, we will have plenty of chocolate on standby. Then, we will exchange gifts, and just spend the day with each other. No one to interrupt us.” You giggled at his plans. He was simple, but he meant the best. He wanted the both of you to just have each other. You knew that it was likely that a certain group of boys would ultimately crash your day, but you weren’t complaining. You were just excited to have a future with the man who was holding you.

How naïve you two were. If only you could see yourself and tell you to not get your hopes up. Your bitterness was ruining the holiday. You wanted to turn it all off, and you did. You unplugged the lights, and took down the stockings. The tree remained in its place, but you took off the star. You would take care of the tree the following day. You then went to bed.

The following morning, you slept in. You had no reason to get up early. The rest of the day was filled with moping around the house. You looked at some of the photos that rested above your fireplace. One in particular caught your eye,

“James! Sirius! I swear, if you break anything, I will make your life a living hell. Remus, stop them. I don’t want to have to clean up after them. Thank you for being a good guest Peter, I just wish the other two would learn.” You face palmed as Lily handed you a glass of wine.

“I would try to stop James, but he is truly impossible.” You looked at her with misery written on your face. She laughed at your expression. “On a different note, I love this place Y/N. It is absolutely gorgeous and perfect for the two of you.”

“Thank you Lily, although I don’t think it is going to remain in one piece so long as those two are still here.” You giggled as you heard Remus try to lecture them on what it means to be a respectful guest.

“Do you think you’re gonna have everyone over for the holidays?” You thought for a moment.

“Maybe, although I think Remus might just want it to be the two of us. I will say that if you did decide to just pop by for dinner or something, I certainly wouldn’t object,” you hinted at her. She caught on and nodded as if she was already making plans.

“Darling, those two are impossible. I don’t know what to do.” Remus looked exhausted from trying to stop the other two. You laughed at him and pulled him in for a hug.

“Aww, did the two children break you? What was it, two hours? Lily, I think you owe me 5 galleons,” you joked. She laughed with you as Remus rolled his eyes.

Lily looked at the counter and saw a camera sitting there.

“Hey, let’s get a picture of you two to commemorate your moving in here.” You both agreed with her idea, and got ready for a cute pose. What you didn’t see was the two troublemakers sharing a knowing look.

That photo was one of your favorites. You and Remus looked so happy. That looked changed to one of both fear and confusion as Padfoot and Prongs entered. Yes, the deer and dog made their way into one of your favorite photos. You still hadn’t fully forgiven James for almost denting your walls with his antlers.

You walked into the kitchen that night to start cooking dinner. It wasn’t going to be anything given that you were alone, but you needed to eat something. You reluctantly turned on the radio to hear that dreaded song. At this point, you just sang along to the song that defined your Christmas. Alone, and hoping that the love of your life would return in time to end all of your sorrow and fill it with happiness.

“You know, I think I can make the sorrow, grief, and pain disappear.” You whipped around at the sound of his voice.

“You’re home,” you said as more of a statement than a question.

“I’m home.”

“For real?”

“Yes, for real. We finished earlier than expected, and I rushed home to be with you. I promised you a Christmas featuring me, and well, chocolate. I brought both.” He had an awkward smile as he held up some chocolate.

You ran over to him and practically jumped into his arms. He held onto you as you quietly sobbed into his sweater. You had never been happier. The only sounds in the house were your quiet sobs, and the sounds of muggle Christmas music.

“Dance with me,” he muttered. You pulled away and adjusted your body as you two silently danced to the tunes. It was a peaceful bliss. Some time passed as you two enjoyed each other’s company like he promised the year before.

“You know, I told Lily that she could invade our Christmas, but now I kind of hope she doesn’t.”

“Why is that, my dear?” You looked into his eyes, and then looked at what was left of the Christmas decorations in the living room.

“Well, as you can see, there isn’t a whole lot of joy left in this room.” You were feeling a little guilty for taking down everything.

“I guess it’s a good thing that none of us really care. We just wanted to be together anyway!” Sirius was standing with the rest of the group. Everyone looked happy to be safe in the same room. You smiled and got up to hug all of them.

Was it late? Yes, but none of you cared. You had enough room for everyone, and you weren’t about to kick out the people you desired to see most. Your night was filled with tears from the constant laughter that the group brought, firewhiskey to loosen everyone up, joyful memories that came from the dumb things you all began, and passionate kisses with Remus as the muggle tunes continued to play from the radio.

“You know, as long as I have you, loneliness is not an option. I promise that when this war is finally over, you will never spend another Christmas alone, or any holiday for that matter. I love you so much Y/N. Happy Christmas!”

“Happy Christmas Remus. I love you too, more than you’ll ever know.” You smiled as you kissed him with all of the love in the world to power it.

#harry potter x reader #young remus x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #young sirius imagine #Sirius black imagine #harry potter imagine #draco malfoy imagine #george weasley imagine #fred weasley imagine

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years ago

Note

For the meet ugly prompts, 02 indruck?

Here you go! I went SFW on this one and interpreted the prompt kind of broadly. It's set in the same world as this Sternclay prompt

Fun fact: there is a fire lookout in the Monogahela, but the structure I describe is based on more elaborate ones elsewhere

02. I bought a house three months ago but I’m finally moving in and discover you’ve been squatting because you’re homeless

Only in Duck’s life would “dream job” and “months alone in the woods” be equivalent.

The Bickle Nob Fire Lookout is a coveted position, and Duck is pretty fucking flattered they chose him as the ranger for July and August. He took the high clearance off-roader to get here, he’s got his bags full of everything he needs not to die of boredom (or anything else) and his schedule of supply drops. He’s as ready as can be and so fucking excited when he opens the door of the wide-windowed cabin.

Then he jumps back, startled to find a skinny, silver-haired man asleep on the floor.

“Uh, sir? This site is off-limits to visitors.”

The man wakes up in a series of catastrophic movements; he bangs into the wall, tangles in his blanket, and nearly stumbles out the window when he manages to stand.

“I, I’m sorry, I didn’t foresee anyone coming here.”

“Department spent all of June arguin’ about whether it was worth allocatin funds for this, so that’s why the place was empty. Fire up North two weeks ago scared ‘em enough to send me up here.” Duck explains with a casual smile; after all, even if he’s way off the trail, there’s no reason to assume this guy is out to cause trouble, “if you got lost hikin, I’m happy to radio down and ask for someone to come get you and take you back to your camp.”

“Nono, I, ah, I’m not lost. One needs to have a destination to be lost.”

“O-kay. Uh, well, whatever you’re lookin for, I’m afraid this ain’t it. This buildin is for the fire lookout only.”

“I promise I’ll be very unobtrusive. I even have my own supplies, you won’t have to worry about me in the slightest.” The man smiles,opening one of his two bags to show it crammed with shiny packets of food.

Duck shakes his head, “Can’t do it, sorry. I’m serious though, if you need a ride into town I can get a hold of someone who can help. Maybe, uh, you could find whatever you’re lookin for there?”

“No” the man sags, but begins zipping up his bags, “I do not think I will find it there. I am sorry for intruding.” He steps out the door, turning towards the deeper woods on the western slope.

“You need a map?” Duck calls. The man doesn’t so much as look over his shoulder.

Duck unpacks as much as he can, checks the weather station and notes the readings suggest those thunderheads on the far horizon are coming his way. By dinnertime, they’re right on top of him, rain pattering on the roof and thunder rattling the windows. He’s scanning the trees when he spots a metallic flash, not of lightning but of silver hair. His mystery visitor is huddled under a tree, wind forcing the hood of his raincoat back over and over again.

The rules and regulations in the forest are there to keep the environment and visitors safe. If something doesn’t violate those basic requirements, Duck sees no reason not to bend them.

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

“I really cannot stress how grateful I am that you allowed me back in.” The visitor, who introduced himself as Indrid, finishes packing their scant trash into the can, “I promise that as soon as the storm passes I’ll leave you be.”

“Yeah, about that.” Duck scratches the back of his neck, “you really don’t got anywhere to call home, do you?”

Indrid opens his mouth. Duck stares, pointedly, at the holes in his white shirt and the worn shoes sticking out from frayed jeans.

“....No, I do not.”

“In that case, you stay here the next two months, on two conditions: one, you don’t get in the way of me doin what I’m here to do. Two, you don’t tell anyone I let you do this. Deal?”

“Yes, yes absolutely” Indrid shakes his hand, bouncing up and down a bit, “thank you so much. You will barely know I’m here.”

This turns out to be completely true and utterly false.

Indrid does keep to himself most of the day; he draws, reads, lays in the sun outside the cabin and generally stays out of Ducks way while he’s working. But he’s also the person who sits and jokes with him during meals, who eagerly follows Duck’s hand when he points out interesting birds or plants, and watches intently when Duck reads his instruments.

He never thought he could live in a fifteen by fifteen foot space with another person and not have a full head of grey by the end of it. Indrid Cold is the exception that proves the rule, Duck certain he’ll never be able to be cooped up with anyone but Indrid ever again.

It helps that he still gets his quiet time; Indrid will got out for walks, even watches for smoke so Duck can do the same. They use the wild foraging guide and Duck’s knowledge of local plants to bring back extra food. Indrid was particularly pleased when he located some wild blackberries. When Duck reminded him to watch out for bears near the berry patch, Indrid simply smirked and said there was only one bear on the mountain who could get him.

Duck’s daydreaming of what Indrid might do if caught on his way back from a dusk walk. And, more urgently, how he can convince Indrid that he wants to sleep outside tomorrow night. So it takes two tries of the front door before he notices it’s locked.

“Indrid?” he knocks, “you in there?” Stepping back, he finds the windows hastily covered by his bedsheets and blankets. He knocks harder, “that’s real fuckin dangerous, if there’s a fire we won’t see it. ‘Drid! Open the damn door!”

He continues banging, unanswered, as the moon--two days from full--rises above.

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

Indrid covers his ears to block out Duck’s increasingly worried shouts from outside. This is the right choice, the best of a bad bunch; it will keep Duck and anyone else nearby safe. The ranger will probably turn him away come morning, rightly furious at his irrationality. Indrid resolves not to argue with him; he’ll slink back into the trees, just like he did the last time someone threw him out for his transgressions.

It starts in his chest, his heartbeat climbing to marathon speeds in spite of him holding still. Then his skin prickles, silver hair sprouting from every follicle, followed by his back bowing in pain and his jaw elongating with a crack. From there the adrenaline kicks in, flooding his body so the transformation doesn’t render him unconscious (and therefore helpless) with pain. When next he raises his head, a werewolf with glowing, red eyes looks back at him from the darkened windows.

Beyond the covered windows, someone howls. Then he scents it, another of his kind coming dangerously close. He has to go out, he can’t leave Duck out there with something that will rip him apart, surely he likes the human enough for his mind to see him as a friend, not prey-

CRACK

The door splinters off its hinges; he growls, ready to defend his home. A deeper growl answers him as a larger wolf, black-furred and yellow eyed, stalks across the threshold.

“What. the. Fuck?” the newcomer snaps, “I told you, you can only stay if you don’t fuck up my work and locking me out comes real fuckin close to that!”

He cocks his head “Duck?”

“No, I’m the fuckin president of the united states.”

“I, I’m so sorry.” Indrid drops to all fours, then flattens to his belly just to be safe, “I didn’t know, I just wanted to be sure I wouldn’t hurt you.”

Duck points to the broken door, “you coulda just done that from the opposite side and I woulda been dinner.”

“No I, I know that if I confine myself I tend to be...calmer. I don’t get overstimulated and then agitated.”

“You coulda just told me. Lockin me out is real rude.”

Indrid whines, crawls close enough to nose at him.

“You don’t gotta do that; I ain't assertin dominance or some shit, I’m just a little annoyed.”

He whines again, “please don’t make me leave.”

“I won’t.” Duck’s voice turns softer.

“And you will not get angry at me for not being appropriately grateful for your leniency?”

Duck frowns, “Aw jesus, did you come from one of those old-school packs?

“Yes” Indrid grumbles, hating himself for how easily he fell into manners he loathes, how deep the teachings of his home run.

Duck eases him up so they’re both sitting, then noses the side of his face, “We don't do that around here. Least, I don't. I don’t spend a ton of time with most of the other Weres when they’re wolfed-out, but they ain’t big on tradition and hierarchy the rest of the time.”

“Ah. That’s, that’s good.”

The other Were stretches, stands and pads about the room, removing the make-shift curtains, “You gotta teach me how you’re so fuckin accurate on when the moon is full enough to make us shift whether or not we want to; I thought I had a day left. I, uh, I was gonna ask you to sleep in here while I ‘slept under the stars’ so you wouldn’t know.”

“You’re not afraid of hurting someone?”

“Nah, especially not this far out. Sometimes I hunt deer, but whatever strain of this I got doesn’t go feral unless some shit goes majorly wrong.” He drops the blankets on the floor, “don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like huntin tonight. Or stargazin. I’m beat from work.”

“Agreed. Transforming against my will always makes me tired.”

Duck lays down on the floor,yawns, “In that case: sleep tight ‘Drid.”

Indrid tries to do just that. But every time he catches Duck’s scent he wishes he could move closer to him, then remembers that would be rude, and continues in that back and forth until he’s wide awake. It doesn’t help that his Were form runs cold; he’s shivering in spite of it still being close to eighty degrees.

His ears flick at Duck’s footfalls. Then a warm, bulky frame curls around his freezing, lanky one.

“This okay?” Duck carefully drapes an arm over him.

Indrid sighs, feeling safer than he has in a year, “better than.”

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

“I’m a seer.”

Duck looks up from his breakfast, mouth full but question clear.

“Last night, you asked me how I knew we’d transform. Seeing the future makes it rather easy.”

“Damn, that does sound handy.”

“In many ways it is. Though it carries some, ah, some downsides.” Indrid steers his thoughts towards safer paths, “If you’d like, I could use it to help you with the fire lookout.”

The ranger grins, the expression twice as warm as his fur the night before, “That’d be fuckin great.”

Indrid smiles back, keeps his eyes on the windows so as not to look longingly back at the rumpled sheets. They awoke this morning in a heap, Duck’s modesty preserved only by a blanket and Indrid’s hair stuck in all directions. He’d been ready to apologize for not moving away before dawn, but Duck simply reached out, stroked his hair down, and asked if he wanted coffee.

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

“You’re right, you can see more animals this way.” They’re perched, fully transformed, on the rocks outside the cabin. Indrid knows how to use his night vision for hunting, but Duck is teaching him how to use it for more peaceful matters.

“Yeah, long as you stay put most animals get up the nerve to nose around some.”

They’d transformed side by side, Duck banging his head in the process. Indrid licked near the bruise and made soothing, sympathetic sounds when Duck whined and cursed his luck. Back home, being demonstrative was frowned upon; here, Duck seems to always be casually bumping their bodies together.

When they go to bed several hours after moonrise, they curl up side by side without hesitation. It’s so very easy to tune out his visions when Duck is near and Indrid falls asleep while the ranger is still whispering about the birds they can hear.

He wakes up an hour later in a panic, disasters of visions past tearing through his mind.

“‘Drid? What’s wrong?” Duck noses the base of his neck.

“Nothing. Just a bad dream.” He closes his eyes, tries to focus on Duck’s scent, his breath, the wind in the trees, but still the ghosts of his memories lurk in the corners of his vision.

“Can I try somethin?” Duck murmurs. Indrid thought he’d gone back to sleep.

“Of course.”

Teeth tenderly and ever so carefully clamp the fur and skin of his neck. He goes limp in one breath. He was high status enough that no one ever did this to him, but goodness does he wish they had

The ranger let’s go, “Do I need to do it again?”

“Please.”

Duck obliges and Indrid whimpers, melting shamelessly in his arms.

“Thank you. I think I can sleep now.”

“Any time, ‘Drid. Uh, before you, uh, go to sleep there’s somethin I wanna ask you. Since you need a place to stay, do you, uh, wanna stay with me? In Kepler.”

“You’d really like that? You, if this is out of pity-”

“It ain’t.”

There were no futures where it was. Indrid wanted to hear the words all the same.

“Besides” Duck nuzzles him, “we already know we make damn good roommates.”

Indrid can’t help it; he howls, brief and joyful, safe in the knowledge that Duck will be ready with a laugh and a kiss in reply.

#indruck #indrid cold/ duck newton #meet ugly #taz amnesty #werewolf au

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ladyofsnark · 4 years ago

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In reality, Elizabeth had only known Bruce for a fraction of a fraction of their lives. Two years wasn’t anything at all, in reality. But in Gotham it was lifetimes. Months passed like little eons, depending on what sort of disaster was currently ongoing, and she liked to think that it had been enough in a lot of ways to know him more than most people ever would.

Which wasn’t to say that for everything she had learned or for all he had taught her, she had adopted his more unnatural-seeming quirks. He always heard her coming, rarely made a sound when entering or leaving rooms, could barely exist in a crowd or overwhelm every one with his presence just by making the choice to do it--things that maybe couldn’t be taught in just a year or two. Maybe those were really the things Ras Al Ghul had taught him--which had nothing to do with swords or the martial arts--in the frozen mountains where Bruce had given away so much of himself.

So she didn’t feel bad necessarily when she walked into her apartment and nothing seemed wrong. She took off her coat, hung it up, and then set her purse on the side table with her keys and headed into the living room, contemplating a hot bubble bath and dinner. The gala had been long and she just wanted to strip off her dress and makeup and be herself again.

There was nothing off. Nothing primal triggered in her; no ancient, animal instinct reared its head. There was no smell. No sound. Nothing.

“Hello, gorgeous.”

Elizabeth froze at the voice. The low, rasping husk was familiar, though only in the worst of ways. She turned, carefully, and saw him, leaning against the back of an armchair with the casual repose of an old friend.

Bruce was not a merciful teacher. When they sparred, he pulled his punches only so much as to avoid seriously injuring her, and when she was sloppy he took full advantage of it. He was always clear that he could give her the tools to defend herself, but her best option would be to never fight at all.

So, she wouldn’t. Fighting was for the Batman. She had other tools she’d honed for just as long.

“Hello,” she replied. “It’s… the Joker, right? That’s what the press has put out, but you can never really trust the papers.”

He smiled at her, though the combination of his ghastly face paint and his yellowed teeth, made it more like a snarl. “That’s right.”

Elizabeth felt his eyes, for the first time, following her as she changed directions and headed toward the sideboard and the mini bar. She tried to saunter, like she would at a cocktail party around the big wigs and lackwits who gossiped openly about their business deals and financials, like she was nothing but a pretty face and not another corporate shark ready to cut their throat. She wasn’t in a hurry. She wasn’t a panicked, cornered animal. For all the unknowns around this man, it seemed certain that that would just excite him. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting a guest,” she said. “Let me get you a drink. Wine?”

“Whatever you’re having,” he replied graciously as he pushed away from the chair.

Elizabeth grabbed a bottle of red from the shelf and two glasses. She hoped it all seemed natural; that she wasn’t giving away anything with her movements as she tried to focus on pouring the wine with one hand as she laid the other on the bartop, letting her fingers curl under the lip.

The Joker didn’t make noise when he walked. It wasn’t something she would have naturally attributed to him or his strange, drunken swagger. So, it was startling when his lanky frame was suddenly pressed against her, and his mouth was beside her ear.

“Looking for something?”

A box dropped onto the bartop and it took a second for her brain--overheated with adrenaline and too many thoughts--to recognize it. It was the panic button. He’d ripped it out of its hiding place, wires and all, from underneath the bar where Bruce had installed it. Her fingertips had only just met the edge of the hole left behind in the wood.

Elizabeth lifted a hand and fingered the wires. She let out a soft “hmph” of amusement and then turned to face the Joker, her back pressing into the bar, and considered him. He was too close. She could see the flecks of color in his impossibly black eyes and the poorly-healed scars which split either side of his mouth. Without it all, the make-up and the dangerous, unpredictable mania that bubbled under the surface, he might have been handsome. In another life, less broken and cruel than this one, maybe.

“You know, the press says you’re crazy,” she said, carefully as she reached behind her for one of the glasses she had poured and offered it to him. “But genius and insanity have always been hard to parse.”

He tipped his head to the side, studying her.“Are you trying to flatter me?” he asked, taking the glass from her. His strange gentleness, from his movements to his tone of voice, was unnerving juxtaposed against what she knew of his usual demeanor. It was like waiting for a bomb to go off.

“Are you flattered?” Elizabeth took her own glass and sipped from it.

He seemed to consider this a moment and then his face split into a wide, feral grin and he let out a burst of hoarse, raucous laughter. He pushed away from the bar, spinning around wildly, to pace back across the apartment. “You,” he began. He turned around to point at her. “You! You’re fun.” He growled the word, low and menacing. “I can see it--I know why he likes you.”

Elizabeth sipped at her glass as she followed him. She didn’t want to, it just felt inevitable. He was a black hole. “He who?” she asked.

“Batman.” He used one arm to flail his coat out wide and then giggled, high like a child.

Elizabeth laughed despite herself. “What do I need him for? I apparently already have one clown in my life.”

He crowed at that. “No, no, no,” he chastised and he wagged a finger. “I know. I know better.” He tapped his temple with the side of his finger and then slid it down his face and across his neck. “I’ve watched.” He grinned. “Wherever the Batman shows up, his little girl Friday isn’t far behind.” He swaggered a few steps closer. “Or are you telling me that he just really likes blondes?”

She shrugged, not reacting as he slid a familiar hand through her curls and twirled them around his fingers. “Don’t all men?” she asked and she tipped her head slightly toward his hand to show compliance.

He chuckled throatily and slid his hand slowly from her hair to trace her neck. His thumb eventually came to rest over her pulsepoint and stroked the skin there. Licking his lips, he spoke, slowly: “Who. Is. The Batman?”

Elizabeth didn’t look away from him. It would just make whatever followed--and she had no way of predicting what would--worse. “I don’t know.”

Instead, and unexpectedly, he seemed delighted by her refusal to cooperate. Another laugh bubbled out of him, like even he was surprised. Then his hand grasped her neck, forcing her chin up, though she’d never looked away from him. He drew that much closer, so close their noses nearly touched, and his next words were breathed into her mouth. “I could break you.”

He said it kindly, like an endearment. Like he meant the effort as a compliment.

Elizabeth hadn’t been able to describe it to Bruce when they talked before about what drove them. It was something like rage. It was also ego and obstinacy and whatever the equal opposite was of the fear that made a deer freeze in headlights.

“It’s just death,” she replied. And for all of her certainty of that, for as little fear as she felt looking into the mad black of this hollow man, she did think of Bruce. She had never gotten a chance to thank him. To tell him how much it all meant to her--how much he meant. “How’s the wine?”

Joker smiled, baring all of his teeth at once, and the pressure of his fingertips disappeared from her neck. “Sweet,” he said. He turned away from her then and in a dramatically casual movement, flung his wine glass, still half-full, across the room. It shattered against the opposing wall and threw its content everywhere. As he retreated to the door, he called back to her: “When you see the bat, give him my message, gorgeous.”

She turned her head, to indicate that she was listening, but no more. “What message?”

He didn’t answer her. Instead, he laughed, and then her apartment door shut and she was alone.

#Batman #the dark knight #joker #nolanverse #OC #Liz's only super power is a death wish

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tloujm · 4 years ago

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Part XV: How About Now?

Author’s Notes: Nothing to see here but Joel slowly breaking out his dad jeans and interacting with the fic’s newest character. I hope y’all enjoy this one. It’s a little bit longer than the last two and its a build up to some major fluffy plot development.

Genre: Fluff with a couple drops of angst

Summary: Joel tries to bond with the new girl. He convinces you to go camping with him. The two of you take the relationship to the next level.

Ship: Joel x Reader

Joel’s boots crunched against the wet gravel as he found himself walking toward the daycare center. He knew that you’d be there. This week had been so busy for the two of you, that you’d barely gotten time to see each other. He acknowledged what the feeling was that pulled at his heart strings; he missed you.

With the intention of pulling you away from your duties, if only for a moment, Joel walked inside and glanced around the play room for you. His eyes fell on something familiar, but it was not you. It was his jacket that he recognized, still wrapped around the shoulders of the new little girl who arrived in Jackson not so long ago. It was as if she had never taken it off. Joel noticed that she was sitting by herself at a table. As he walked closer, he found that she was drawing. His heavy footsteps alerted her, causing her to drop the pencil in her hand and look up at him. With a low grunt, he crouched down until he was eye level with her.

She shrugged off the jacket and handed it to him. “No, you can keep it, kiddo. I have another.” He waved it away before she placed it on her lap like a blanket. “Let’s see what you’re drawing here. Oh, well now I believe this one is called a Velociraptor. Yep, I learned this from a little known movie that came out back in…’93 I wanna say. Some feisty creatures. They may have been small compared to the rest, but you wouldn’t wanna get on the wrong side of those fellas.” Joel said, filling up the air of the one sided conversation. “You ever seen a dinosaur in real life? S’pose you haven’t. That’s wayyyy before your time.” He attempted to make her laugh. “Technically, I’ve seen them, their bones at least. I used to go to science museums all the time before the outbreak. You’ve probably never been to one, have you?” He genuinely waited for an answer, to which she barely shook her head. “I know of one not too far from here. Maybe me and (Y/N) will take you one day if you’re up to it.” Joel got back up slowly and stretched his legs until his knees popped. He tipped his imaginary cowboy hat as a farewell and continued his search for you.

Joel eventually found you in the backyard taking down laundry from the line. “Hi, darlin’.”

You put the clip back on the line and threw yourself into his arms. “Hey! I missed you.” Hearing you say that melted his heart.

“Missed you too. You know, I was thinking we should go campin’.”

“That’s random.” You laughed off his suggestion.

“Why? I reckon we can go hiking, fish, cozy up next to a fire, lay under the stars.”

“I don’t even know how to fish.”

“I’ll teach you.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I might be a bit rusty. I mean I haven’t gone fishing since I was a kid, but I’ll get back into the swing of things. But those other things, I know you like.”

“I mean I do, but we can do that here in Jackson.” You countered.

“Yeah, but it’ll be something different.”

“I don’t know, Joel. Ever since we settled here, we haven’t gone beyond the gates unless we had to.”

“C’mon now, don’t tell me you forgot about your birthday. The aquarium, remember?”

You glare at him knowingly. “How can I ever forget. But in my defense, I didn’t know we were going to leave the walls of Jackson. All you said was that it was a surprise and that was it. I just don’t want to run into any hunters or people from a hostile settlement.”

“I thought I was the worrisome one in this relationship.” Joel joked. “Listen, this ain’t our first rodeo. We’ve survived a lot out there and not for nothin’. People or clickers, we’re good at staying alive and even better at it when we’re together.” He placed his hands on your shoulders and rubbed them up and down your arms. “I promise we won’t go far. We’ll pick a patch of land along a recently cleared route. I trust you. You trust me?” You nodded. “Good! We’ll have fun! This is excitin’.”

“You know, I’ve never gone camping before.” You spoke up.

“Really? Not even an RV or cabin?”

You shook your head. “You know I love nature just as much as you, but I’m really just a city girl. I was used to seeing animals on tv or behind a barrier at the zoo. The wildest animal I’d ever seen before the outbreak was a raccoon. Maybe the occasional deer. The closest to hiking I ever did before was at a nature preserve park. It may all be outside, but damn, the actual woods are a whole other story.” He let out a light laugh. “Before the outbreak, I bought all my meat from the store and had a tendency to kill every plant I owned.”

“Well now look at ya, a natural country girl.”

You laughed. “I never chose this life. This life chose me.”

“It chose a lot of folks, but it suits you.”

“You don’t gotta butter me up anymore, I already agreed to go camping with you.” You said while giving him a sly smile.

“I mean it, it does.”

“Why do you wanna go camping anyway? I can see a hike for the afternoon, but everyday out there since the outbreak has felt like one big camping trip.”

“That wasn’t campin’. The difference is that campin’ is fun, you’ll see.” He tried to convince you.

“You still haven’t answered my question.” You said. He looked at you blankly. “Why though! We’ve been in Jackson for years now and you’ve never suggested it before.”

He shrugged. “Now just seems like a good time. Jackson’s in a good place. They won’t miss us for a day or two. Besides, we have some downtime coming up and I feel like I haven’t really gotten to spend time with you in awhile. I just want it to be you and me again for a minute.” He blushed at the last part.

You smiled at his defensive romantic side. “Kind of like a romantic weekend getaway?” You playfully wiggled your eyebrows.

He deepened the tone of his voice. “That’s exactly what it’s gonna be.”

“When should we go?”

“How’s the day after tomorrow sound?” He suggested.

“Sounds perfect.” You replied. The idea of camping was growing on you. The clothes line was now empty and the basket was full of folded linen. Joel followed you as you walked back inside to put them up.

“Now, onto other business.” He began.

You looked back in confusion. “What else is there?”

“I don’t know if you recall, but I remember a certain someone promising another certain someone that she’d move in with that…certain some...the original someone…wait um...” Joel began stammering over his thoughts. “It’s you. That certain someone was you who promised that if I made you breakfast in bed, you’d live with me again; no more of this back and forth. And if you recall again, I did in fact make you that breakfast.”

“Pancakes and freshly squeezed orange juice? How could a girl forget? They were delicious by the way.”

“For bonus points, I do remember being right as well when I said there wasn’t gonna be any bloaters in that manor.” Joel added on. “So what do you say?” He asked, trying to hide his eagerness.

“Suppose you were right about that, so yeah sure.” You said.

He looked at you for a moment before looking down at his feet. “Don’t make it sound like you’re doing it because you lost a bet or somethin’. If you’re not ready, I have no intention of forcing you, but,” He lets out a sigh. “I guess I don’t understand why you wouldn't want to.”

“Joel, I didn’t mean to say it like that. I love you, you know that.��

“Sounds like a ‘but’ is coming on.”

“It’s just new to me is all. I know we’ve lived together once, but I’ve never had a serious relationship with anyone before you and I sure as hell never lived with a romantic partner before you. The outbreak happened right after I graduated college. I only ever lived with my parents and a couple of roommates. I know it sounds stupid, but I’ve never had my own place before where it was just me doing whatever I wanted, however I wanted, wherever I wanted. I love spending time with you, believe me I do, but there’s something about having your own space, you know. I hate the way in which I got here, me having my own place, but I’ve grown to like it. Does that make me selfish?” You genuinely asked.

He let out a deep sigh. “No, it doesn’t. But, you know It’d be your house too. It won’t be you moving into my house; it’d be you coming back to our house. If you’re comfortable here, I can move in with you or we can find a whole new house altogether.”

“I don’t know, Joel.” You replied.

“Just think about it alright, darlin?” He requested. He stuck his hands in his back pockets and paced the floor around the linen closet. The air fell silent, but he wasn’t done pleading his case. He just had to find the words. “You may account your life experiences, or lack thereof, to being young, but you probably never thought about the fact that I’ve never lived by myself before the outbreak either. I was a teen dad. I went from living with my dad and brother to living with my daughter and her mother. After she left us, it was just me and Sarah all the way up until that day. After me and Tommy fell out, I was on my own for the first time. I...uh...It wasn’t easy; none of it.” He shook his head before looking at you with tired, pleading eyes. “I’m tired of being alone, (Y/N).” He sniffled and then you saw the corner of his mouth twitch up. “I know I’m not much to look at in the morning, but I want nothing more than to wake up next to you everyday. That’s where I stand, (Y/N), but if that’s not where you are, that’s ok ‘cause you’re the only one I’d wait for. I just want you to want this too.”

“Joel, I never...I” You tried to begin. He was right, you never thought about the fact that he always had someone. When you first met him, you grew to know him as a withdrawn, independent man. “I want to wake up next to you too, but not just that. I want to spend the middle of my day and end of my day with you too in our house.” You stood on your tiptoes and rubbed the pad of your thumb against his wrinkles.

He closed his eyes at your touch. “I need you to mean that.”

“I do.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too!” You smiled up at him.

“How much longer do you have here?” Joel inquired.

“I just have to finish folding the laundry.”

“Meet me at your place when you’re done. I’ll go and find some boxes.”

“Wait, what?”

“What better time than now? The rest of my day is clear and we still have a few more hours of daylight. What do you think, darlin’?” You playfully rolled your eyes at his eagerness, but seriously couldn’t think of a reason not to start today.

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gothpanda · 4 years ago

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Not So Different (M*A*S*H)

DESCRIPTION: Trapper becomes jealous of the new Major that replaced Frank.

SHIP: Hawkeye x Trapper

WORD COUNT: 4.1k

A/N: I posted this on Ao3 and thought ‘what the hell!”

WARNINGS: none

Clink. Hawkeye and Trapper smiled at each other from the front of their amateur distillery, sipping on the fresh gin that highly resembled if the liquor was bought back home. Trapper let out a relaxed sigh as he sat down on the wooden stool by his cot, the smile staying on his lips when he saw a completely empty corner in The Swamp. Only a cot and a desk ready for someone else to use, hopefully for no one at all as Hawkeye had an idea already in his mind.

“No more whining! No more stupid threats! And best of all I don’t have to waste my precious time looking at Ferret Face,” Trapper exclaimed, kicking his feet up on top of a crate. Hawkeye chuckled alongside Trapper, sitting right beside him as they sipped on their martinis. “Do you think Hot Lips will be P.O’d about Frank leaving when she gets back?”

Hawkeye starred out in thought, pursing out his lips. “Well, he didn’t call. Or leave a note. And he took the pearl necklace from her tent. So my prognosis would be ‘oh hell yes’ with a high level of colorful words,” Hawkeye said, grinning mischievously at Trapper.

“But of course she’ll just play it off as if nothing was between them because they were ‘oh so secretive’,” Trapper teased, tossing in a piece of gum to chew on.

“You’d think Margaret would’ve convinced Frank to quit the charade after asking me about my lack of flirtation with the nurses,” Hawkeye said, sipping on his martini, Trapper popping a bubble of strawberry gum.

“Nah Frank’s too stubborn and birdbrained to ever think about relaxing in this place. He has a ‘reputation’ to uphold,” Trapper said in a mocking tone.

Hawkeye stood up from the chair they had, walking over to sit on Trapper's cot with a certain look of remorse as he sipped his martini. He pursed his lips out, staring off ahead of him. Trapper was quick to notice Hawkeye's thoughts turning in his mind like a wheel, playfully kicking his foot with his own. He chuckled when Hawk jumped slightly, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. “What’s with the sour face?”

“It’s not a sour face, it’s my thinking face. I figured you’d know by now. I kind of feel bad for Margaret about Frank's ditching. Don’t you?”

Trapper shrugged, “It’s Frank so I don’t feel anything for the doofus,” Hawkeye glaring at him, which made Trapper change his attitude for a moment. “Okay yeah what Frank did was pretty cruddy but Hot Lips isn’t going to show anything to anyone. At least maybe to you,”

“If you did that to me, I’d get Klinger’s uncle a bus pass to Boston,” Hawkeye warned with the best of his ability to sound intimidating, Trapper smiling at Hawkeye as he sat beside him. Trapper swung an arm around Hawk, nuzzling him closer to his side, Hawkeye leaning on the vacant shoulder.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head-,”

“Oh, you think I’m pretty?” Hawkeye interrupted, raising his eyebrows to Trapper, making him roll his eyes with a hint of affection.

“Yeah yeah. As I was saying, I wouldn’t just leave you hanging after being together for this long. What kind of man would I be?!”

“A ferret face! That’s the kind of man you would be, and we both know we don’t need any more of those! Please I couldn’t handle it!” Hawkeyes exclaims, martini glass in the air, putting on his best general impersonation. Trapper only chuckled at Hawkeye, enjoying the relaxation that was given. It had been slow in the 4077 with no wounded flying in on choppers or coming in on ambulances. Hawkeye taking this time to write to his father while Trapper did the same, but mainly asking Louise to tell his daughters how much he loves them. When Frank Burns finally got his orders to head back stateside, the whole camp celebrated with Hawkeye and Trapper as the main hostess for the occasion. Unfortunately- unless you were Frank- Margaret was on her three day R&R pass that she rarely took, Henry almost begging her to take it since she highly deserved it. If Hawkeye didn’t have a soft spot for Margaret in this situation, he’d be placing bets with everyone on her reaction, but alas he’s a man with a heart.

Attention! Attention! Captain Pierce and Captain McIntyre report to Colonel Blake’s office! Captain Pierce and Captain McIntyre report to Colonel Blake’s office! On the double!

Both Hawkeye and Trapper rolled their eyes in unison, groaning as they were both relaxed in Trapper’s cot. Hawkeye fell on his side on the cot, pretending he was asleep, hoping it would stall walking the few feet to Henry’s office.

“You know every time that speaker comes on I feel like I’m in grammar school,” Trapper complained, setting his glass down on the still as he got on his feet. Trapper looked down at the ‘sleeping’ Hawkeye, smirking at him. He reached for the man’s hand and laced their fingers, pulling Hawk’s arm only to tug his body an inch.

“Tell Henry I’m dead. I don’t want him to give any eulogies at my funeral. Only you and dad are allowed to speak,”

“Come on, Hawk. Maybe if we get whatever Henry wants out of the way, we can have fun before the poker game tonight,” Trapper coined to Hawkeye, smiling right as Hawkeye jumped on his feet, fixing his khaki jacket.

“Onward Dr. Trapper!” Hawkeye said, gripping onto Trapper's hand as he led the way out of The Swamp in high gear, bursting out the tent. Trapper tugged behind, knowing no one would give a second look if the two were holding hands out in daylight.

“Alright, General, I’ll make sure to have my best men for the job. Okay. Okay. Goodbye now. Radar! Where are Pierce and McIntyre-” Henry yelled outright as Radar came front to his desk, Hawkeye and Trapper in tow.

“Captain Pierce and Captain McIntyre, sir,” Radar reported looking right at his clipboard. Henry could never figure out the way Radar could sense things so fast as if he was reading everyone's mind. Hawkeye sat perched up on the edge of Henry’s desk, Trapper sitting beside him with his feet kicked up. “Anything else, Colonel Blake?” Radar asked, moving beside the Colonel.

“No, that is all Radar. Thank you,” Henry said, twirling a pen in his hands. “Pierce, why can’t you sit in a chair for once?”

“It’s not in my programming,” Hawkeye said, crossing his leg over the other to get more comfortable on the desk.

“Henry, why did you oh so disturb our relaxation time?” Trapper asked, popping his gum.

“I need you two to pick up Frank’s replacement tomorrow afternoon at Kimpo Air Base. And please just go to the Air Base and come back, no funny business,” Henry ordered in a plea. Hawkeye and Trapper exchanged looks of annoyance at the idea of a replacement Frank, hoping to have a few more days of no R.A wanna-be majors.

“Why can’t Radar go? What if wounded come while we’re away? Or worse what if I get my discharge while we’re gone?” Hawkeye asks.

“I ordered Radar to go pick up Major Houlihan from the airport. Unless you two want to explain to Margaret why Frank didn’t pick her up,” Henry said smiling at the captains who only looked at each other, almost communicating in silence.

“I already have the hard job, sirs. It shouldn’t be bad to pick up the new Major,” Radar explained with the usual sheepish smile he had.

“What’s this new major like? If he’s a Frank I’m leaving him on the side of the road,” Trapper asks.

“Awe come on, Trap, have a heart. If he’s anything like Frank it’s entertainment for the both of us once again,” Hawkeye said with a smile. From the top of a whole bunch of other files, Henry gave Hawkeye the new ‘Frank’s’ file, reading off the basic facts about him.

“Young. 6’3. Graduated from Stanford with a fraternity background. Looks like a blonde in his photo. Major Hunnicutt, I might be in love with you,” Hawkeye teased, Trapper cocking his head up at Hawk from the last of his words.

“Cool it, Pierce. Tomorrow at 12 o’clock sharp you two will pick up Major Hunnicutt. Is that understood?” Henry asked, placing a cigar between his lips.

“Sir yes sir!” Hawkeye yelled out, jumping off Henry’s desk with his version of a salute, his right hand close to face as if he were waving. Henry shook his head at Hawkeye as he stood up from his seat, walking out of his office, Radar following the Colonel.

“Thank you!” Henry said from the far distance. Trapper yanked the file out of Hawkeye’s hands, standing right next to him as they always did. Hawkeye pressed his chin on Trapper's shoulder, wrapping an arm loosely on the man’s waist. Trapper read along with the new man’s file, seeing how much of a better surgeon he sounded compared to Frank. Hopefully, this would mean no more needing to worry if someone was bringing the assembly line down. The meatball surgery they all did was something Trapper and Hawk was used to, but maybe this Major can be used to it as well. Then Trapper stared at the corner photo of Hunnicutt, understanding what Hawkeye was apparently attracted to (or not). Trapper had to admit Hunnicutt was good-looking but of course, wasn’t his type of man, he gravitated towards brunettes who were almost his height. Hunnicutt looked perfect for Hawk, noting his attraction to blondes. Trapper tossed the file onto Henry’s desk, popping his gum in somewhat of an annoyance, Hawk scrunching his brows at him.

“It’s a file, Trap, it won’t hurt you,” Hawkeye teased, Trapper glaring at him, lightly pushing Hawk’s arm off him as they left the office.

“I’m just checking to see if this Major’s even worth coming down here, something you should be doing. Remember chief surgeon?” Trapper said.

“Oh I remember but as chief, I can just tell my men to do all the paperwork for me. Or in my case my man,” Hawkeye said, pinching one of Trapper’s cheeks as they headed back to The Swamp. Trapper only swung an arm around Hawkeye’s shoulders.

“Don’t get cute, you still have a poker game to win for us,” Trapper says opening the thin wooden door for his chief.

The next day coming around, Trapper and Hawkeye drove their slowest to the airbase, singing songs outloud of joy and love. Hawkeye keeps his eyes on the road at all times. Trapper smiling at Hawkeye, he couldn’t help but kiss him on the cheek after being a safe distance from the checkpoint.

“Oh, you do love me!” Hawkeye exclaimed, giving off that smile that made Trap blush out of nowhere at times, eyeing him for a moment.

“Shut it and watch the road,” Trapper said, pushing Hawks' face straight back as he chuckled along.

When the two parked in front of the Kimpo Officer’s Club, Hawk looked around the circus of men to find the new Major and put the jeep in park, getting out of the jeep. Trapper jumped out to stretch his back to then see a man in a perfect first-day uniform by a pile of crates. He waved towards the man, pulling Hawkeye by the arm to step their way to Hunnicutt. Major Hunnicutt was the exact opposite of what both Hawk and Trapper thought he’d be. A major with a heart, who has a soft-spoken smile and goofy when saw the opportunity. Hunnicutt saluted the captains like regular army, only laughing when Hawk and Trap gave him their versions. His name is B.J and even though Hawk tried to get him to explain what B.J means, they only received more jokes.

“Seriously what does B.J stand for, Hunnicutt?” Trapper asks as the three walked back to camp from Rose’s after returning in the evening.

“Anything you want, Trapper!” B.J says with a broad smile, Hawkeye laughing along as the new Major stood in the middle of the couple. Trapper only shoved his hands in his khaki jacket, Hawkeye patting B.J on back with a grip on his shoulder.

“Careful B.J or I might take you up on your name being whatever I want,” Hawkeye said, still laughing alongside B.J while Trapper remained silent. B.J was oblivious to Trapper’s quietness towards him, believing this was just how the guy was. Hawkeye was the fun jokester while Trapper tagged along with Hawk for their schemes. It wasn’t entirely wrong but not the full truth either. As the three grew to talking and getting to know each other within weeks of B.J’s arrival, Trapper knew he could not not like the guy. B.J was a good surgeon who only was nervous on his first day of many wounded, but quickly got into high gear the next day. He had a good spirit about him that confused Margaret as to how B.J could ever be a major, noticing how he played along with Hawk well. Trapper and B.J had similar lives back stateside, married with a wife and daughter waiting but never cheated. Hawkeye didn’t quite notice the change of Trapper right away since he played nice, it wasn’t until Trapper stopped his frequent little touches that made Hawk question.

It was movie night at the 4077, almost everyone was in the mess tent turned movie theater. B.J joined Klinger to see his first movie of whatever Radar could get his hands on, leaving Hawk and Trapper alone in The Swamp.

“You’re cheating,” Hawkeye said, pulling out a card from the deck.

“I am not! How would you know if I’m cheating?” Trapper protested, frowning at him.

“Because I taught you everything you know. I also know because out of the three people in this tent, you’re the cheater!”

“Oh sorry I’m not like Major Angel over there who admits to playing bad,” Trapper said, tossing the cards on the makeshift desk of a crate, grabbing his martini glass.

Hawkeye chuckled. “Major Angel? Why that nickname? Certainly, you would take the chance to use his initials for a crappy nickname,”

“Because that’s how he acts. He acts like an angel compared to us… or at least me,”

“He doesn’t act like anything. B.J is just more of a light of sunshine who knows a joke. You should ease up on the guy, he’s nice to be around,” Hawkeye said, shuffling the cards for another game.

“What do you mean ease up on him? I’m good around him,”

Hawkeye shot a look at Trapper that showed nothing could get past him. “Trap the moment we picked him up you’ve given him the cold shoulder. You interacted more with Frank,”

“Well, maybe I’m ‘cold’ to him because you two talk nonstop and don’t let me get a word in. Ever thought about that?” Trapper said, retying the rope on his yellow robe.

“That’s never stopped you before. The main reason why I liked you so much, you never cared to interrupt me,”

“Liked?” Trapper asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hawkeye couldn’t help but roll his eyes all the way to the back of his brain. From the year and a half of being around Trapper, Hawkeye had never seen this side to him on any level. It was strange to Hawk because in his head, he thought B.J would be a great addition to their antics like when Spearchucker was still here.

“Like, Trap. The main reason why I like you so much. Seriously what’s with you?” Hawkeye asked, folding his arms against his chest. “And don’t say nothing because there’s been something up your ass for weeks!”

“I’m fine, Hawk. Let’s just play before he gets back,” Trapper mumbled, dealing cards between them.

Hawkeye shook his head. “If I knew any better I’d say you were jealous,” Hawkeye said under his breath, getting up his seat and walking over to the still. As the words came out of his mouth, Hawkeye turned on his heels with wide eyes and grinned at Trapper, seeing the blush on his cheeks even when looking away from him. “Oh! You are jealous! That’s it!” Hawkeye exclaimed with a sharp finger, sitting back in front of Trapper.

“I am not!” Trapper protested, the blush staining his face.

“Yes, you are! You’re jealous there’s someone else I get along with that isn’t just you! My, my, my, Trapper I never thought I’d see the day!” Hawkeye teased, his shit-eating grin growing bigger.

“I’m not jealous! Why would I need to be jealous of Major Angel over there?” Trapper said, trying his best not to yell.

“Well, then why haven’t you talked to him on your own? Or even stopped giving me little kisses that I like behind my ear? You know it hurts my feelings,” Hawkeye asked with a little pout, still playing along with the teasing.

Trapper shook his head as he gulped the rest of his martini. “So what if I’m jealous? You don’t think Hunnicutt might have a little crush on you?”

“Of course he would, have you seen how gorgeous I am?”

“That’s it! I’m done with this conversation!” Trapper said, rising up from his seat in one motion, grabbing his toiletries to hit the showers. Hawkeye immediately followed Trapper's steps, gracefully stopping him from leaving by his hand on Trapper’s arms. He was able to see how uncomfortable this conversation was for Trapper, telling himself to tone down the jokes.

“Hey hey hey, Trap, I’m only teasing. You don’t need to worry about B.J at all. He’s a married man if you don’t remember,”

“Yeah and so am I if you don’t remember,” Trapper muttered, grabbing the towel that hung from the nearby hook.

“That’s different! He doesn’t seem like the type to cheat on his beloved back stateside,”

Right as Trapper was about to say anything else, the crowds of people from the mess tent spilled out, all going back to their respective tents. “Forget it, Hawk,” Trapper said, leaving The Swamp and headed straight for the showers. Hawkeye slouched his shoulder as he stared at Trapper disappear in front of him. He dropped himself on his cot, covering his eyes with the thin blanket. He let out a long sigh, hearing the door open and close shortly after, peeking up to see B.J.

“Oh, you played cards without me?” B.J asked sitting on his cot and taking off his boots.

“Yeah it’s part of me and Trap’s bonding time,” Hawkeye mumbled, propping himself on one elbow.

“Aw that’s sweet. Peggy and I would play checkers every Friday with wine before she was pregnant with Erin. God, I miss those days,” B.J said with a soft smile as he reminisced of being stateside in California. Hawkeye smiled at the idea of the similarities, knowing Hawk and Trap could very well pass for a married couple if just one of them was a woman.

“You know Beej, did I ever tell you the time Trap and I threatened our old Major who wanted to report a soldier for loving someone of the same-sex?” Hawkeye asks, sitting crisscrossed on the cot.

“No, but sounds like something you two would do. I would’ve been on your guy's side for it all,” B.J said with a smile.

“Really? Why’s that?”

B.J shrugged, “Because everyone should find love in someone. If a man finds that love in another man, who am I to judge?”

Hawkeye smiled at B.J tenderly with affection at the relaxed feeling of the new Major. “Well in that case let me explain a little bit more in-depth on life at the dear old 4077. Or love life,” Hawkeye said, clearing his throat as he tried to inform B.J as fast as he could before Trapper came back from the showers.

“You got a minute, Trapper?” B.J asked behind Trapper by The OC’s bar. Trapper looked over his shoulder before finishing the rest of his whiskey, slamming the glass down loud. He sighed out right before coming face to face with Hunnicutt, pursing his lips out as if Trapper were thinking. “We could go outside for a smoke. I was able to get some nice cigars from Peg,”

“Lead the way, Major,” Trapper said, seeing Hawkeye eye both of them from the corner he was at with Margaret. When the two stood off to the side of the aluminum club, Trapper and B.J were silent amongst each other, only taking in puffs of smoke from the cigars. Trapper didn’t know what to say to B.J, only speaking to him in polite regard during the time in the O.R. After last night's spat with Hawk, Trapper just felt an embarrassment in it all, wanting to make himself small.

Finally, B.J cleared his throat to cut the silence. “Look, I wanted to talk because I think there might be a misunderstanding between us,” said B.J.

“Oh yeah? And what is that?” Trapper asked, letting out smoke into the air.

“I’m not in any way interested in Hawkeye, Trap,” B.J blurted out, causing Trapper to look at the man with wide eyes.

For a moment, Trapper thought about playing the clueless game but knew there was no point. B.J wasn’t like Frank by a long shot after all. “He told you?” B.J nodded. “Everything?”

“He said how you two have been together for a while, and you might have gotten jealous after I arrived. I didn’t mean to cause any tension,” B.J said with sincerity in his voice.

“Might is a soft way of putting it,” Trapper mumbled, puffing out another cloud of smoke. “And trust me you didn’t. It’s just, since being here it was always Hawk and me. You getting here and meshing so well, I didn’t know how to take it,”

“Well, I can understand. You found a major who’s almost exactly like you,” B.J said, pressing his lips together as Trapper looked at him in such confusion.

“You’ve…?” B.J nodded. “But you got married?”

“Because I really did fall in love with Peggy. That’s the difference between you and me, Trap. I played both fields for a while before I met my wife, and when I did, I knew she was the one for me. But that wasn’t for you, was it?” B.J asked, gripping his by the shoulder.

Trapper stepped on the small cigar bud. “I thought it was,” Trapper said, leaning against the cold wall, hands in pocket. “Then you get drafted to a country you’ve never been to and meet a brunette that takes your breath away but isn’t a nurse,”

B.J smiles at Trapper, patting him on the shoulder. “See, we’re not so different after all. I know exactly that feeling. So are we good?” B.J asks, sticking out a hand. Trapper accepts the handshake, pulling B.J in for a quick hug, patting him hard on the back. “Awe, I knew you were a softie!” B.J exclaimed as Trapper pushed him off, laughing as they both walked back into The Officers Club. As the two walked in, Trapper went straight to Hawkeye in the corner, seeing him all by himself.

“Care for a dance?” Trapper asked, extending out a hand with a short bow.

Hawkeye sipped on his martini. “Okay, but arm's length. We need space for Jesus,” Hawkeye teased, standing up to accept the hand of the man he cared about. Trapper was the one to lead this time, placing a soft hand on the small of Hawkeye’s back, Hawkeye having his hand on Trapper’s shoulder. “Everything good, Captain McIntryre?”

Trapper smiled down at Hawkeye. “In tip-top shape,” Trapper glanced down for a moment before seeing the bluest eyes he’s ever seen. “I’m sorry about being jealous towards you and B.J,”

“Don’t sweat it. It was actually quite attractive seeing you like that if I do say so myself,” Hawkeye smirked.

Trapper matched Hawk’s smirk, looking around to see if anyone was staring right at them. “Well, do you want to make up for lost times?” Trapper whispered, only getting an answer by Hawkeye leading them out in a swift and heading straight for the empty tent they called home. Trapper pulled Hawkeye for a kiss right as the thin door slammed shut, not being able to contain the smile on his lips at the same time. Everything falling back into its blissful place. Hawkeye enjoying every minute of him and Trapper, back in perfect harmony.

#MASH #tv: mash #mash 4077 #hawkeye #trapper #piercintyre #Bj Hunnicutt

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thepandapopo · 4 years ago

Text

A Step Through Time - Chapter 1: Visitor

Me: Don’t do it

Brain:

Me: Don’t do it.

Brain:

Me: We haven’t even finished the other one yet-

Brain: HERE’S A SYLVIX IDEA THAT YOU NEED TO WRITE SINCE IT’S PREVENTED YOU FROM DOING ANY MEANINGFUL WORK ALL DAY.

Me: FUCK.

Pairings: Sylvain x Felix ; minor Claude x F!Byleth

Warnings: mentions of masturbation/sex; typical Felix swearing.

Synopsis:

When Felix agreed to go back into the past to make sure certain events during the war actually happen, he expected that he would be the only time traveler at the monastery for those three moons. What he did not expect was for his 6 year old daughter to send herself to the past 4 weeks after himself because she missed him.

The one where the post time-skip gang meets an older Felix Fraldarius from the future who tells them he’s there to help for a few battles for reasons he can’t explain and everyone’s dying to figure out who the hell he’s married to - wait, what the fuck he has a daughter?

Some notes:

Verdant Wind / Azure Moon route mash up. Basically the Golden Deer Route but then at the Battle of Gronder (Ch: Blood of the Eagle and Lion), Dimitri joins up with Claude.

Dedue is back. Dimitri isn’t crazy anymore. Rodrigue is unfortunately dead.

All characters are recruited (including Black Eagle students)

Next Chapter (coming soon!)

XxXxXxXxXxX

It takes roughly two weeks for the Resistance Army to fully wrap their heads around the fact that there are not one, but two Felix Hugo Fraldarius’s at the monastery.

It takes them another week on top of that to come to terms that the newest Felix to join their army is from the future. 12 years, to be exact.

The day that Future Felix - that’s what they’ve dubbed him and he thinks it’s ridiculous; who has time to say that mouthful? - arrives knocking on the monastery gates, the entire place goes into an uproar. Claude and Byleth aren’t entirely sure whether or not this is just some dark magicks that the Empire has cooked up in a sad attempt at espionage, or if something has gone so horribly wrong in the future that they send their prickliest general back in time to whip them into shape.

Claude insists on tying him up which Felix grudgingly accepts, because of course this all seems a little far fetched - no one has ever heard of time travel magic...at this point in time anyways. And like everything else Felix does, it just makes them even more suspicious of him because the Felix they know would be hissing and spitting at them with all the fury of an angry wyvern if they even tried to touch him, much less restrain him.

Funnily enough, it’s his past self that manages to convince them that he’s the real deal.

“This is the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard.” Younger Felix crosses his arms and glares at his future self, as if his stare alone could dispel any illusionary magic with its withering intensity.

It’s a bit weird to be on the listening end of his scathing remarks rather than saying them. But technically he is saying them... or at least the past him is, so really is it any different?

“Well, unless you have a better idea, I think this is the best we’ve got for now.” Claude shrugs and runs a hand through his tousled hair for the millionth time that day. “If he really is you, then he should know a secret you’ve never told anyone, and you can confirm it.”

Byleth nods from her place next to the Alliance leader, “We can’t wait until Lysithea and the others find an answer in the library. It could take weeks before they can confirm that any of this is possible through magic.”

More like years, Felix thinks to himself. In his timeline, time travel magic is still a completely new thing. In fact, the only people who know anything about it are a select few that Dimitri, Byleth, Claude and Linheartd trust with their lives. The only reason he’s here now is because the green haired mage had somehow stumbled upon a rift in the flow of time while conducting some experiments. Fearing that this small bump could have dire repercussions to the past, it was decided that they would send someone back to Harpstring moon of that year to help along the events that were yet to unfold.

Between the people who knew and who were available, it ended up coming down to Felix or Sylvain.

Unanimously, they all voted for Felix. (”Hey! I’m totally trustworthy!” “We know that, Sylvain, but with your reputation for having a silver tongue, none of them will believe you.”)

And now here he was 12 years in the past, tied up to a chair in the Knights hall in front of the fireplace, patience running dangerously thin at the bickering that has been going on for hours.

“Fine,” his younger self grouses with a scowl fierce enough to make a grown man cower. “But he’s writing it down and none of you are allowed to stand close enough to read it.”

It’s a smart idea, really. And if Felix knows himself, then he knows that the quickest way to get to the end of this whole fiasco is to write down a secret his younger counterpart is too embarrassed to admit out loud.

Thankfully, Felix has plenty of those from that time.

From before things become official with Sylvain.

From before he becomes Felix Hugo Fraldarius-Gautier.

A mercifully short moment later, his hands are free and he’s rubbing at the tender muscles where the rope bit into his skin.

A small inkwell, quill, and piece of parchment are placed in front of him by a silent but wary Dedue and Felix nods in thanks before his younger self more or less shoves everyone back a good distance so they cannot read his secrets.

It is silent other than the occasional pop and crackle from the low fire. Hard, piercing Amber meets warm liquid Amber, neither willing to look away, one gaze filled with distrust and jaded bitterness, while the other watches with silent empathy and understanding.

Blame it on his husband’s bad influence, but Felix can’t help the growing desire to tease his younger self. (Which he knows is absolutely hypocritical because he hates being teased but Sylvain was right when he said it is just so easy.)

“How much do you want me to reveal?” Felix dips the tip of the quill in ink and pauses, the tip hovering over the parchment ready to spill secrets only the two of them know.

“...I’ll tell you when to stop.”

It’s a free pass to go wild, is what Felix hears.

There are so many things that he could write. Ranging from the priceless family heirloom he accidentally broke and hid when he was child all the way to some of his more embarrassing training mishaps - one of which involved him falling and stabbing himself on his own goddamn sword - but despite all of the memories that flash through his head, one in particular stands out the most.

For the second time that day, Felix curses his husband and his perverse influence before scrawling out:

Bedside table. Second drawer. Third notch - press hard to release the fake bottom.

Images of a very familiar flask of oil that has seen many restless nights flash across Felix’s mind. And if the red flush on his younger self’s face is anything to go by, he would bet everything he owned that he was also thinking the same thing.

A beat of silence. “Not enough?”

Felix is honestly a little impressed. He was sure that his secret sex drawer would be enough to mortify his younger self into believing him.

Fine then. He could bring out the heavy artillery.

The first time we realize we are in love with Sylvain is when we are 15 and figure out that the burning rage we feel every time he talks about his latest girlfriend is actually jealousy.

He pauses for a moment to look up at younger Felix. Receiving no response, he continues writing.

The first time we realize how absolutely fucked we are is the morning after the training session where Sylvain takes off his shirt and we dream about -

Ink splatters on the table and over his gloves as the parchment is unceremoniously wrenched away from him and immediately tossed into the fire.

“He’s real” are the only words the new Duke of Fraldarius manages to sputter out between the fingers hiding his burning face. The poor boy looks like he wants to spontaneously combust and also let the floor swallow him whole.

Felix almost feels bad. Almost.

----

The days following can only be described as incredibly odd as Felix wanders the familiar - yet different - grounds of Garreg Mach. He helps where he can with the chores and spends the remaining time either at the Training Grounds like usual, or just simply chatting with his friends of old.

A few times a week he will accompany the troops and assist them in their various missions eliminating bandits or Demonic beasts that have wandered too close to their base. Though he is older now, Felix has never slacked off in his training regimen, not even after the war ends, and his current skill and mastery of swords and Reason are more than enough to deal with these minor nuisances.

All in all, Felix is enjoying himself.

...Except for how much everyone keeps pestering him to reveal things about the future.

“Ooooh, do Claude and the professor finally hook up?” Hilda is leaning across the dining hall table with the biggest shit eating grin on her face, the sausage breakfast in front of her completely forgotten in favor of even juicier gossip.

Felix sighs for the umpteenth time that morning and cuts into his own plate with a bit more force than intended. “Hilda. For the last time, I can’t tell you anything specific in case it fucks up the future.”

“But you’ve already told Annette that she goes on to teach at the School of Sorcery and Mercedes opens up an orphanage!”

“Yes, and that’s because I want to make sure those things actually happen.”

“So what, you don’t want Mr. Leader Man and the Professor to finally knock boots?!”

To his right, Dimitri chokes on his toast at the mental image Hilda conjures.

Much to his relief (or dismay), Dorothea chooses this time to slide into the seat to his left along with Petra.

“Are we interrogating Future Felix again?” The Songstress doesn’t even bother hiding her mischievous glee as she eyes Felix the same way a predator would prey.

“No, we are not.” He glares at the former opera star, cursing the fact that his friends have already figured out that the years have more or less mellowed out his bark and that he has a LOT more patience before he actually bites.

“Aww, come on. It’s basically a breakfast tradition now! Nothing like a side of future gossip with my tea to get me going in the mornings.” Dorothea winks at him before a flash of flaming red near the food line catches both her and Felix’s attention.

“Hey Sylvain! Felix! Come sit with us.” She waves them over and nudges Petra to scoot over to make room.

“Is there anything you guys want to know about the future?” the pink haired Great Knight asks as soon as the pair are seated.

“Oh tons,” Sylvain winks as he picks up his fork and twirls it loosely in his hands. “But the real question is if Future Fe over there will actually answer them.”

Felix lets out a humorless snort. As if he would.

He makes a point to actively avoid his younger self as much as possible because he isn’t sure if it will affect his timeline in any way. Unfortunately, that also means that he has to avoid Sylvain.

Seriously, how did he never realize that they were basically joined at the hip? Where one went, the other was never very far.

It was a fucking miracle that no one had figured out his lifelong crush on Sylvain considering how much time they spent in each other’s company.

But then again, considering everyone’s surprise at how many of them ended up paired off after the war... maybe they were all just that blind. Or stupid.

Thank the Goddess they were all blind and stupid.

Felix manages to fend off most of their prying inquiries, snapping only a few times at Hilda and Dorothea who don’t know when to stop, but everything truly goes to hell in a handbasket when Mercedes comes by asking the group if there is any equipment or armor that needs cleaning since she’s on duty this week.

“Oh, yes actually.” Felix seizes this opportunity and begins pulling off his gloves to hand to the Bishop. “I need the ink stains removed from my gloves. I never managed to find time to properly clean them since the first night I arrived.”

He isn’t aware that he has done anything wrong until the table goes silent and everyone is staring at him, or rather his hand, with a mixture of disbelief, shock, pleasant smugness, and overall general bewilderment.

“What are you all...” His question trails off when he realizes that his wedding ring - the one that he always wears under his gloves - is now out in the open, the plain obsidian band glittering innocently in the morning sunlight filtering through the windows.

“You’re... married?!”

Oh fuck.

----

“So who’s the lucky girl?”

You like Annie. Don’t murder Annie.

Felix swings his training sword against the practice dummy and lands a clean diagonal hit.

“Ohhh, I bet it’s some noble girl from the Kingdom.”

You like Thea’s opera shows. If you kill her now, you won’t be able to see them after the war.

Stab. Feint. Slash.

“No, Felix doesn’t care for dainty noble girls who don’t know how to fight...”

Thank the Goddess Ingrid is still reliable as ever.

“Maybe it’s a guy?”

Nevermind. Ingrid is the devil.

Duck. Side step into a zig zag pattern approach. Upwards slash.

“It’s... forgive me if I am overstepping, but I am happy that you have found happiness in the future, Felix.”

Don’t kill your king. Regicide is a crime.

Retreat backwards. Dash in for the final blow.

“Yeah! Congrats Felix on finally getting laid!”

It’s only when Felix snaps his training sword in half at the blue haired warrior’s comment that his sword training session turns into a brawl training session.

----

The Fraldarius Duke has never been more relieved to receive a call to action than when Byleth rushes in not long after Future Felix gives Caspar a shiny new black eye.

“Bandits. In the sealed forest. Civilian involved. Gates, now.” is all the warning they get before she is sweeping out the training room doors, no doubt going to retrieve her own equipment.

After 5 years of being at war, they are all seasoned soldiers and as such, it doesn’t take them very long before they are rushing towards the site of the battle.

They have foregone the usual battalions in favor of only deploying their former classmates, allowing them to move much quicker through the dense vegetation.

Up ahead, they can hear low voices talking and what sounds like muffled sobbing. Byleth signals them to slow down and get into position - it’s one of their usual strategies: approach undetected, surround the enemy, and then close in to eliminate.

It isn't until they get close enough to hear the sobbing more clearly that Felix feels his heart leap up his throat.

He knows that sound. He’s heard it a million times over the past 6 years at all times of the day.

Please Goddess, he prays as he creeps closer with more urgency, ignoring Claude’s alarmed look, let me be wrong.

Of course he isn’t.

Raw panic seizes his chest as he recognizes the little girl with an ornate sword strapped to her back cornered under the jagged overhang of a large rock, her long wavy hair a crimson beacon amongst a sea of green and brown, and Felix is running before he can even formulate a plan.

“Come on, little girl... just give us the sword and we’ll let you go,”

“N-no! Papa gave m-me this sword!”

“Well then I hope you’re ready to die-”

Electricity crackles through the air and his body falls to the ground before he can finish his threat.

“Sophie!”

Large, watery honey gold eyes lock onto his and suddenly the battlefield narrows. For one agonizingly long heartbeat, Felix watches the little delicate, red nose he loves so much scrunch up, and he can already hear the tearful wail that comes next.

“PAPA!”

Then, all hell breaks loose.

---

There were very few of them that could say they had the privilege of watching the Felix from the future fight prior to the current battle. Felix - the younger Felix of this timeline - is not one of them.

However, as he watches his older self weave through the bandits like liquid steel, mercilessly cutting them down with cold rage, he cannot help but compare it to his current skill level.

He wonders how many more battles he will have to go through before he reaches that level of deadly grace.

“Watch your left!” Sylvain shouts at him from somewhere to his right and Felix grunts as he parries a hard downward strike of an axe.

His feet flow through footwork long ingrained in his mind and in the next moment, he has slipped past the bandit’s strike range and shoves his sword through his chest.

A clean, quick kill.

Felix is actually rather grateful for the distraction of a battle. But despite the battle cries and sounds of metal on metal clashing around him, he still cannot silence the one thought he’s sure is going through everyone’s mind.

He has a daughter.

He has a daughter in the future. A freaking daughter.

A little girl whose hair is unmistakably the same obnoxiously beautiful colour as those of the Gautier lineage.

Who in the actual fuck does he marry?!

The question rings in his head over and over again as he fells enemy after enemy, and by the end of the battle, he still has not found reprieve from the shock that he is grappling with in his mind.

Felix is not aware that he is unconsciously searching for familiar golden brown eyes before the knot in his chest dissolves when he spots Sylvain cleaning his lance off to the side.

But just as quickly as that knot disappears, another one takes its place.

Because as much as he loves Sylvain with all his heart, there’s no way that even if by some miracle they get married in the future that they can have a child together.

Which means that either Felix has married a distant cousin of Sylvain’s or Sylvain has a daughter that Felix somehow ends up taking care of.

And since Felix knows that he would never be able to love or marry anyone other than his childhood best friend...

...that leaves him with a very bitter pill to swallow.

----

“Papa!”

Sophie is wearing her favourite teal dress with the little swords embroidered on the hem, and even though it is now caked entirely in mud, Felix cannot bring himself to care as he falls to his knees and cradles his daughter tightly to his chest.

“Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?” Calloused fingers fruitlessly brush away the steady stream of tears on Sophie’s blotchy cheeks, the salt water clearing some of the mud away as Felix scans for any injuries.

She shakes her head twice and continues to sob into his chest and he continues to hold her while stroking her hair gently in gentle, calming caresses. Even after this whole fiasco, Sophie’s long waves somehow look as beautiful as ever and a distant part of Felix’s brain wonders if it’s just some inherited Gautier genetic to always looks good no matter what.

“Felix! Goddess, who is that? Is she okay?” Ashe runs up to him, Mercedes and Ingrid not far behind him with equal looks of concern in their expressions.

Felix shakes his head, “I’ll answer questions later. Mercie, can you take a look over her right now and make sure she has no injuries? she says she’s okay but she’s probably still high on adrenaline.”

It is the first time in Mercedes’ life that she has seen Felix look this concerned for another person’s well being and she’s already reaching out with warm white magic even as she nods, but as soon as her hand makes contact, Sophie flinches further into Felix as if burned.

“Sophie. Sophie, it’s alright. You’re safe now. I’ve got you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

It takes a little bit more coaxing before she pulls away far enough to look at him.

“Hey,” Felix nudges her temple gently with his nose. “It’s alright. You remember Auntie Mercie, don’t you? Auntie Mercie would never hurt you. She just wants to make sure you’re not hurt, okay?”

If Mercedes has any reaction to being called Auntie, Felix is thankful that she does not outwardly show it.

“It’s okay, Sophie.” The healer flashes her a soft smile. “I promise this won’t hurt a bit!”

It’s only when Mercedes manages to start her healing spell that Felix lets the tension and fear seep out of his body.

There are so many questions clamoring around in his head, like how in the world is she here in the past and where the hell is his husband who is supposed to be watching her in his absence, but all of that will have to wait until they return to the monastery.

And, if the matching strangled, heart-broken looks on his younger self and Sylvain are anything to go off of, he’s also going to have to reveal a little more than planned if he wants to make sure that he still gets to marry the love of his life.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Sorry that the ending seems a bit rushed. I’ve been working on this for 5 hours now and I just want to post it and go to bed (it’s 3AM). I promise I’ll come back to make some edits later!

Next Chapter

Masterlist

#sylvain jose gautier #felix hugo fraldarius #SylVix #felix x sylvain #fire emblem 3 houses #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem #byleth eisner #dimitri blaiddyd #blue lions #golden deer #azure moon #verdant wind #AU #alternate universe #alternate timeline #time travel #future felix #original character

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xbellaxcarolinax · 5 years ago

Text

Forging a Heart (Ivar the Boneless) 11- Arvid/ The Sacrifice

Pairings: Ivar x Artemis (OFC)

Word Count: 4160

Warnings: Some violence.

10- Requests

AN: Thank you guys for the notes and reblogs 😊

...

Gold.

Something about the yellow metal was hypnotic, causing both wealth and greed.

Ivar and Arvid had watched her work in tense silence, not being able to take their eyes off the shinning metal in her delicate hands. Her fingers worked tirelessly in the way her father had taught her. It was meticulous and tedious, far from the stylings of deadly weaponry.

Floki was quite pleased.

It looked beautiful on Helga, decorating her pale collarbone like a queen. She should be a queen.

Helga's smile was brighter than the summer sun as she lightly touched the pearls embedded in the gold.

"My husband put you up to this?" She asks her, bending down to the young Moorish girl now in her care.

"Floki insisted." Artemis nods

"Tanaruz, look how pretty the gold shines." The child stares at the necklace uninterested. The poor girl appeared so lifeless and Artemis watches her with sad eyes. She didn't deserve such sadness, no one taken away from their home deserved it.

"And who is this?" Ivar asks, crawling over to the girl. He reaches a hand out towards her as a friendly invitation, but the child let's out a shrill scream in reaction. She was so frightened that her screaming didn't sieze until Ivar pulled away completely.

Helga reacts immediately, pulling the girl to her side and rocking her back and forth in comfort. Floki sighs, rubbing a hand down his face in frustration as Ivar casted him a look of confusion.

Artemis watches the girl cower into Helga's skirts, the tears spilling from her eyes like waterfalls. If she recalled correctly, the girl was from Moorish Spain, which meant she spoke the language of Arabs. Many Moorish merchants often flocked towards the south of the Mediterranean, selling their silks and spices.

The language was difficult, so much more that the northern tongue.

Artemis had grown up hearing it, her father and brother almost fluent from their travels selling their work, and she was able to pick up on it here and there. She wouldn't be the best, but she probably knew enough to speak to the scared girl.

She closes her eyes for a moment, searching her mind for basic words, and when she opens them, Ivar was watching her in confusion.

"What are you doing?" He asks.

"I'm thinking."

"Well do not hurt yourself." He snorts. Artemis let's a smile slip at his teasing, getting down on her knees beside him so that she may attempt to speak with the girl.

"Your name is Tanaruz?" She tries in her broken Arabic, immediately feeling Ivar stiffen beside her. The child's watery brown eyes looked at her in awe, but she remains silent, nodding her head in response

"Artemis." She points to herself, smiling at the girl. Helga watches their exchange with keen eyes, absentmindedly petting the girl's dark sleek hair.

"How do you know my language?" Tanaruz asks her timidly, trying to shrink away from Helga's touch. She reminded Artemis so much of herself, scared and alone.

"Your people trade with mine." Artemis tells her, searching in the folds of her cloak to produce a shiny red apple. She offers it to the girl with a smile, watching in satisfaction as she grabbed hold of it without hesitation.

"Helga is kind. She will treat you well." Artemis speaks as best she could. Helga smiles now that Tanaruz was calmer.

"So, you can speak other languages?" Ivar asks, teasily yanking at one of Artemis's curls to get her attention. She scowls, turning to look at him and his little grin.

"Not very well," She mutters, "I can barely speak yours properly." Ivar chuckles, nodding in agreement.

"You have a terrible accent." He replies, grinning when she scowls again, but it was just for show. Both Floki and Helga watch their exchange with wide eyes, shocked at the playful nature they had with each other.

Artemis rips her eyes away from Ivar's teasing ones in favor of looking back at Tanaruz. She leans forward, holding out her hands encouragingly to her. Tanaruz hesitates but finally lowers the apple to her lap to grasp her hands. They were so small and cold, and she shook like a frightened rabbit.

"Do not be afraid." Tanaruz blinks at the statement, twisting her body round to look up towards Helga and Floki before glaring at them.

"They killed my mother," The girl begins, "And took me away from home." Artemis was stunned into silence for a moment. She licks her lips and sighs, lowering her head in sadness for the girl. Tanaruz was traumatized, and she had every reason to feel resentment.

"What does she say?" Floki asks with arms crossed. He was growing tired of the interaction. This must have been what he meant about losing his patience.

"She is distressed. She says her mother was killed." Artemis answers, her eyes never leaving the girl who had tears in her eyes again. She squeezes her little hands in comfort before turning to look at Ivar. He was not at all invested in the situation, but his interest only peaked whenever Artemis let the foreign language tumble from her lips.

"Do you have a god?" She asks Tanaruz, and the child nods, moving away from Helga to get a better look at the girl who spoke her language.

"Allah." She says.

"Pray to him. He will give you strength." Tanaruz sniffles, looking up at Artemis through her thick lashes. After a moment she nods, turning back to bury her head in the soft wool of Helga's bodice.

"What did you tell her?" Helga asks frantically, her large blue eyes inquisitive.

"I told her you are a kind woman," Helga smiles at this, "And that she should find comfort in her god."

"Her god wont help her." Ivar snorts, taking one last look at Tanaruz before crawling to the door.

"Perhaps not," Artemis sighs again, moving to stand, "But she is young. She needs comfort." Ivar grumbles, before looking to the older couple.

"I hope Artemis has pleased you in her work. Floki, Helga?" Helga smiles and nods, gripping at the gold around her neck lovingly. Floki waves his hand aimlessly, but he offers Artemis the smallest of smiles, a genuine one that she'd never seen before.

"The Chrisitian is talented, that much is evident."

Ivar smirks, pride swelling in his chest as he glanced at Artemis. She was looking at Tanaruz with such sad eyes, and he knew she sympathized for the girl.

They leave the humble home, and Ivar decides he wanted to sit by the beach before heading home. The hood of his cloak flies off his head as the winds grew stronger at the waters edge. Artemis trails behind him, plopping beside him when he motions for her to sit.

"You gave the girl an apple." He says, eyes following the crashing waves.

"I did." She looks down towards the sand that surrounded them, grabbing a fist full of it and watching as the wind drags it away from her skin.

"Did you take it from the kitchens?" He asks, though his tone wasn't angry, "Stealing is very bad, you know." The words were said in a childlike form, and he finally turns to look at her. His cloak was large on her but she wore it faithfully, something that seemed to bring him great satisfaction.

"I would never steal," She stresses, scooping up more of the cold grainy sand into her hand, "Prince Ubbe gifted it to me."

"Ubbe?" Ivar voices his confusion, pursing his lips. He lays back against the sand, bringing an arm behind his head to comfortably watch the passing gray clouds, "Ubbe gifts you things now?"

"Only apples when he can." Ivar hums, closing his eyes for a moment to feel the frigid wind nip at his skin. He breathes in the cold salty air, exhaling through his nose like a little bull. He then moves his head to the side, glancing at Artemis shivering viciously despite the warm cloak he'd given her.

"You cannot handle the cold." He says, reaching up to brush his fingers through the fur at her collar. She flinches slightly but does not move away, finally bringing her gaze to his large fingers and then to his eyes.

"The cold does not exist in my home. Only the heat," She looks up at the gray sky and the lack of sunlight, "And the sun."

"Sounds terrible." Ivar snorts, pulling his hand away. He sits up, squinting when the grains of sand whip against his face. He sighs with a roll of his eyes when he sees Artemis burrow her red cheeks into the warmth of the fur.

"You're like a baby bird," He says, "Weak and fragile." He turns over onto his hands and stomach, smiling at her unamused look.

"Come on, baby bird. Time to go home."

...

Artemis would not miss the winter.

That much was clear when the frost began to melt, and the spring flowers slowly began to bloom. The hills were now turning a luscious green, along with the forests and mountains. Norway was a land full of life in the wild. The birds came back to sing their song of rebirth, and the deer pranced in between the trees. There was beauty that Artemis did not wish to see at first, but she could not deny it anymore.

The harsh winter winds slowed into a chill breeze. Thick furs were required less, eventually stored away for the next winter to come. The usual stews were cooked less as the cold nights turned pleasantly cool.

She noticed that Ivar enjoyed the change in seasons. For one, he could crawl about better than he could in the snow, but his most preferred way to travel was now on his new chariot. That was Floki's surprise for the crippled bastard those weeks ago, but he couldn't test it properly until the snow melted away.

She had always compared Ivar to a child when it came to certain areas of emotion, and his wild antics and anger only proved it to her more, but when she'd watch him on his chariot pushing through the newly blooming trees, she all she saw was a man ready for war.

Ivar was practically at his happiest, beating the reins on the back of the white mare that galloped ferociously over the dew coated grass. His usual brooding features were smoothed over with that of contentment, that even the helmet he wore could not hide his beaming features.

Ivar would often interrupt her chores in order to accompany him to his chariot practices, whether it was her practicing her mending with Aria, or at the blacksmith's shop where he knew she preferred to be. After crafting Ivar's precious axe and Helga's gift from Floki, the people of Kattegat began to flock to the forge, requesting minisucle items such as a silver candle holders for a wealthy home, or iron nails and tools for the average farmer.

Then she began getting issued gifts.

They started out small, in the form of an extra meal or bath. Then they increased in value. She was given a comb made of bone, similar to the one Margrethe had let her use long ago. Ivar claimed her wild hair needed taming. Then she was given a fleece blanket. It was of simple construction, nothing special, but the material was nice, andn he wouldn't have to sleep blanketed in her cloak anymore.

Despite the gifted items, Ivar never gave her anything personally, his pride wouldn't allow it. He preferred to send a thrall in his place.

One of the last items was one she was surprised to see. It was a golden cross pendant belonging to one of the monks of the monestary before he passed. It was the only connection she had to home, and Ivar had allowed her to have it. When she tried to thank him humbly, Ivar would brush her off and send her away.

"He's a pining dog, can't you see?" Arvid tells her with a laugh one day as she sat repairing weapons for the other princes. Hvitserk's axes and daggers were particularly worn out from his first raids in the Mediterranean. Even Bjorn had given her his weapons for repair.

"Pining? The only one pinning here is you, Arvid," Artemis couldn't hide the smirk from stretching over her lips.

They often danced around each other, a flirtatious battle that would remain unexplored. There was a flame there, that much was true, but it would not evolve. It was nothing more than a platonic friendship.

Her long braided hair fell over her shoulder when she turned to look at the young blacksmith, a slight blush dusting his pale cheeks, but there was an amusement in his blue eyes.

"You mean to tell me that you do not see those things he gives you as lovesick gifts? Ivar has always been angry and stubborn, but I've never seen him like this. I've known him my entire life."

"Don't be ridiculous. Ivar has always hated me." Artemis responds, passing her finger over a nick on the tip of Ubbe's dagger. It was a simple fix, but Arvid was a great distraction.

"Oh? If that were the case, then he wouldn't have threatened me at the point of his axe." Artemis stops her movememts, quickly glancing at Arvid who quietly stoked the fire. The fire blazed as roughly as the beating of her own heart.

"What do you mean?" Her voice rose an octave as she voiced her confusion fiercely.

"What I mean is," Arvid begins, bending down to meet her eyes, "That Ivar sees me as a threat upon winning your affections." He placed his hands upon her small shoulders, holding that charming smile that made her pleasantly nervous.

"Which also means," He continues, "That if he were to see us now, he'd kill me."

Arvid had always adored her eyes. He gazed into them until he settles on her lips. He was so close that he could almost hear her little heart hammering in her chest.

He smiled, moving forward to place a gentle kiss on her lips, the soft muscle moving against his instantaneously. It wasn't passionate in any way, but it was soft and kind, a simple caress of lips that could leave anyone wanting more. It was nothing like Sigurd's ale covered kiss, desperate and messy. Arvid's felt like a farewell.

Artemis enjoyed his kiss more than she thought she would, and she took in a shaky breath when they pulled apart. Her eyes fluttered and her lips remained pursed, until she heard Arvid's deep chuckle.

"I thought I'd do that now, as I'll probably never get the chance to again." She says nothing, clearly not understanding him. Arvid stands, turning from her to stoke the fire that began to diminish.

"What are you talking about?"

Arvid offers her a sad smile, running a hand through his dark hair that curled just below his broad shoulders.

"I am to be married," He reveals with a shrug, "It is time for heirs, and father has chosen a suitable wife." Artemis sighs, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear as a distraction, but she offers Arvid a timid smile.

"You would have been a suitable match, if you were a free woman," Arvid's eyes follow the crackle of the fire, wiping his brow when the sweat began to build, "But I see now Ivar intends to keep you for himself."

Artemis continues her work, putting on the leather gloves and standing beside him. She let's the flames lick at the dagger with a pair of pincers.

"The prince intends to keep me as property, he has made that quite clear."

Ivar was master of fickleness, a character that no one could read. He wasn't particularly kind to her. Sometimes he'd reprimand her without reason when he felt he was being too soft-hearted. She had grown used to his sudden outbursts against her.

"Do not fool yourself, silly girl," Arvid laughs, giving her a crooked smile, "Ivar isn't alone in his affections." Artemis snorts.

"You've gone mad."

"I only say what I see," He replies, eyeing the cross about her neck, "There is a fondness there between you."

"He finds me useful, you mean."

"You lie." Arvid accuses.

"I do not!"

"Your eyes wander over him."

"I..." Artemis hesitates, the metal pincers threatening to snap in her deadly grip. She would be in such denial to lie and say her eyes have not wandered towards the youngest prince.

"My eyes do not wander." She finally says, removing the dagger from the fire and plancing it on the anvil. She does nothing but stare at the bright colored metal.

"You're lying." Arvid taunts, moving away from her as if he were truly bothered. Perhaps he was.

"Ignorance does not suit you, Artemis," He concludes with a sigh, "But ignorance is bliss."

...

She pricked herself with the needle again, cursing in her language before sucking at the bead of blood forming on her fingertip.

"You must learn patience, Artemis."

Artemis watches the redhead's skilled hands move quickly, bone needle going in and out at a rapid pace.

"I have no patience for needle work." She groans, dropping the fabric onto her lap. Aria sucks her teeth.

"If you intend on helping, then pick up the banner and try again." Artemis huffs, picking up the thick fabric, working her already sore fingertips to the bone. Aria was on a mission to help her with her terrible sewing skills, but it has proven to be a challenge.

"This is not my strongest point," She says, tongue sticking out slightly as she brought the fabric close to her face. She had lost her place and now had to find her way back to the previous stitch. Such a tedious task.

"You can't thread a needle but can easily beat metal with a hammer? What sense is that?" Aria snorts, putting down her work to flick Artemis on the forehead. The action made her laugh, swatting Aria's hand away.

"We all have our strengths."

They worked in silence for a while, both glad that it was not their turn that day to milk the cows or deal with the stable animals. The female thralls of most households were to report to the Great Hall, helping in the last minute preparations for the journey ahead, which meant the mending of many sails and banners.

Queen Lagertha was currently out checking on the fortifications. The snow had caused some damage, but not enough to cause alarm, and she believed spring would be kind to them.

"There will be a sacrifice soon, you know." Aria speaks above a whisper, stopping her movements. She seemed extremely excited about it.

"A sacrifice?" Artemis blinked, her blood running cold, "An animal?"

"No. A human. The Queen will choose someone of strong faith in their gods and sacrifice them. It is to gain favor for the army to succeed in England."

Artemis was left completely speechless. She's heard of such practices, but she'd put it to the back of her mind. Oddly enough, no one ever talked or mentioned human sacrifices, not even Ivar.

"You've gone pale," Aria laughs, reaching forward to place a hand on Artemis's cold cheek, "Are you unwell?"

"I do not know."

"Are you not familiar with sacrifices?"

"Of course not," Artemis hisses. Her hand were shaking and her chest felt tight, "Your people sacrifice?"

"We do. The Druids perform sacrifices every solstice," Aria explains, confused as to why Artemis was reacting negatively, "It is something that must be done if we are to please our gods, is this not the Christian way?"

"No!" Artemis squeals, catching the attention of the others in the hall. Embarrassed, she clears her throat and lowers her head until the stares stop and the isolated conversations began again. She notices the way the Queen's most trusted warriors watched her. If she remembered correctly, the fair haired one was Torvi, who she now knew was Bjorn's companion and mother to his childern. The dark haired one was Astrid, rumored lover of Queen Lagertha herself.

They were both beautiful and fierce, shieldmaidens in their own right. Artemis did not want to cross paths with them. They did not trust the weapon making slave that belonged to Ivar the Boneless.

"No," Artemis repeats quite breathlessly, "It is not the Chrisitan way," She pauses, "It is not the moral way."

"But it is the Pagan way. That is what the Chrisitan priests call my people." There was no kindness in Aria's voice when she spoke, mostly resentment, "The whole of Ireland has almost turned to the Christian religion, but a few factions remain faithful to the gods. These sacrafices must be done, Artemis," Aria says sternly, "They must be done if things are to return to normal,"

"But you do not believe in the same gods."

"No, I do not," Aria agrees, "But I will pray to my gods on the night of the sacrifice, and I hope they will hear me."

"And what will you pray for?" Artemis asks, bringing her eyes back to her mending. She hears Aria sigh.

"A better life, I suppose."

...

The drums were beating loudly, reverberating into the star filled sky. Torches were lit and hung around the center, illuminating the very center of the city. The air around them was ominous, and a shiver ran down Artemis's spine.

There she was, the Queen, looking as beautiful as ever to perform such a heinous act. Her ceremonial dress was bone white, but it would soon be covered in the blood of an innocent man. The sword in her hand glimmered as she placed the tip of it on the stomach on the man. He was a Jarl, and a willing participant. It was courage that Artemis had never known.

"Do not look away," Ubbe warns her, his blue eyes watching as the queen stabbed the willing sacrifice cleanly, "You will offend the gods." Artemis watched unwillingy, her nails pressing deeply into her palms.

Blood poured out from the man, the tip of the sword now visible from the other side of him. The Jarl did not scream, nor whimper in pain, but the blood kept flowing.

Artemis looks beside her as the brothers watched in fascination, Ubbe being the only one to reprimand her. Margrethe was in between Ubbe and Hvitserk, gripping their arms in anticipation. She seemed to be enjoying the scene. Sigurd was just as attentive, but he must have felt her gaze. He catches her eyes, staring intently at her for a moment. It was as if he were searching for something, but finds nothing. He motions for her to look back at the bloody scene with a jerk of his head before turning away.

Suddenly the crowd began to chant along side their queen:

For a good year and peace, may Thor watch over us

Artemis felt a knot forming in her throat, watching the pagan priest collect the blood in a golden bowl, sprinkling their faces with the thick crimson liquid. She immediately makes a noise of discomfort, closing her eyes at the sensation of the warm blood gliding down her face. The image was already engraved behind her eyelids. The sight of the dying man would be permanent.

The sacrificed man was dead, and placed upon the ground as if he were in a deep slumber. The fires burned long into the night as the people worshipped and prayed to their gods.

Helga moves to her side, grabbing her hand in the little comfort she could offer. Tanaruz burys her face in Helga's skirts. If Artemis was frightened, then surely Tanaruz was as well.

Shs feels the familiar tug on the hem of her dress, and she slowly lowers herself to her knees to meet the wide eyes of her crippled master. His eyes trace over her blood spotted face, immediately taking note of her frown.

"Are you afraid?" Ivar smirks, his own bloodied face quite fearsome in the light of the fires. He seemed calmer than ever, completely in his element when surrounded by death and blood.

"Are you afraid of our ways?"

She remains quiet, not sure how to respond. She wanted so much to hide in that moment. She wanted God to save her. She felt a loneliness like no other. A sadness reaches her dark eyes and Ivar's amusement faded at her frightened expression. She sniffles, little tears streaming down her cheeks, smearing the blood in their path.

"I am afraid." Ivar hears her whispered words despite the loudness of the drums. She wipes her nose with her sleeve, not meeting his eyes.

"Veikr," He sucks his teeth, "Stop your crying, baby bird. My legs ache and I wish to have ale. Let us go,"

...

Veikr- Weak

...

@heavenly1927 @didiintheblog

#ivar #ivar imagine #ivarfanfiction #vikings #ivar lothbrok #ivarxofc #alex hogh andersen #vikings ivar #hvitserk #ubbe #sigurd #helga #floki

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prettylittlehargrove · 5 years ago

Text

Party Crashers

Request - Here

Summary - Billy and Mayor Clines daughter are in a super secret relationship, but things become a little restless and the truth gets revealed by accident... but not in the best way...

Warnings - Tommy being a bit of a creep lmao, Alcohol consumption, Mentions of underaged drinking, a small mention of drugs

Word Count - 2048 , I finally counted them yay!! x

Authors Notes - This was a hefty one and i’m so sorry it was so late, ive been super preoccupied and I also wanted to make this to the best of my abilities and I hope you enjoy it! x

Everyone in Hawkins knew you. Everyone.

A lot of people would think of this as some popularity dream come true, but in all honesty it was a nightmare. Any hope at a relationship was diminished due to a lack of privacy, even going to the store at the weekend people made a fuss.

“The mayors daughter bought meat? Does she hate animals?” Or “Y/N L/N caught smoking!” And your personal favourite “The Mayors Soon To Be A Grandad”. That was after a certain Harrington got caught making out with you behind his car.

That was another problem with relationships, you were constantly being set up with rich kids who owned islands and beaches. Steve was the most casual relationship you’d had after his parents started to cozy up to your father. Unfortunately that didn’t end on the best of terms, both of you growing apart romantically and only really wanting to keep in sexual contact till you officially broke it off.

But then he came. Sun kissed skin and golden curls, he was the definition of a bad boy. Someone your parents would hate the thought of you dating. Billy Hargrove.

He was the everything you’d been told to walk away from. But instead you walked towards him, and soon enough you’d formed yourself a secret relationship.

Making out in his camaro at midnight, down by an old wreck on the outskirts of town. Fucking in your bed at the dead of night whilst he held your hands. Cuddling up on his sofa whilst you got out of your mind high.

He was a rush of adrenaline in your boring and plain life.

Every event you went to, your mind would wonder to the way his hands felt on your body, or how soft his lips were.

Everything was simply divine.

Tommy pulled a flyer from his bag and waved it around in Billy’s face. “There’s a fancy ass party up at the lakeside mansion, and I’d say we crash it tonight, theres gonna be beer and shit, they probably do drugs too man, all rich people do drugs right?” He blabbed, a sure fantasy made up in his mind about some crazy party going on.

“Sure whatever, but you’re in the shit if there’s no beer k?” He chuckled, flicking his cigarette on the floor. His eyes gazed around the parking lot, trying to scope you out. Usually, he didn’t have that hard a time, your elegant stature and bounce in your step drew obvious attention towards you. Finally he caught sight of the familiar heels that clicked against the concrete.

“Y/L Cline man... fuck if I wasn’t with Carol I’d fucking-“ Billy elbowed him harshly and dragged his eyes to look at the rest of you.

“I gotta go” he mumbled, heading to your usual make out spot, the back of the school, behind the bike shed.

You did the same, waving goodbye to your friends to go ‘do some errand’.

Quietly, you looked around to make sure the coast was clear before heading behind the shed to meet with Billy.

“Heya Princess” he winked, his arms were open as he engulfed you into a strong hug. Squeezing you a little before pulling away. You leaned up on your tip toes and gave him a small kiss on the cheek.

“Can we pretty please hang out tonight? It’s my birthday tmr and I wanna make sure I get to spend as much time with you as I can before I have to go to some shoddy event...” Billy sighed, remembering back to Tommy.

“I wanna so bad princess, but Tommy asked me to do something with him... and I’ve kinda stood him up like 5-6 times already, I’m an asshole but not a jerk” he chuckled. You rolled your eyes and kissed his cheek one last time.

“Well be safe and don’t get too drunk or high, because I’m not prepared to try and heave a 5,10 brute through my window again... mr muscles..” giving his bicep a quick squeeze. “Oh and before I forget, here’s your lunch... Maxine told me to make something with jam in it” Billy’s face lit up, food being something that always got him in a good mood.

“Thank you angel, and you can call her Max if you want... I only call her Maxine because it pisses her off etc..” His voice lowered a little in embarrassment and slight shame.

“Don’t worry, I tease my younger cousins all the time” you giggled, handing him his sandwich and giving him a tight hug. “See you when I see you, and I’m expecting a birthday kiss tomorrow!” You giggled and headed away from the spot.

9pm headed around the corner as Billy waited outside Tommy’s house.

“Thought your parents were rich as shit, why aren’t you going?” He muttered, lighting a cigarette.

“Not as rich as these fuckers... probably related to royalty or something.. gonna get so wasted tonight” Tommy chuckled. “So we sneak in through the back and head across the hall towards the wine cellar, and then figure it out from there” The plan was stupid enough, let alone Tommy’s fantasy that he was gonna get beyond wasted.

Your mother fussed around the house, dressed in a gown with her hair tied up and prepped. “Y/N! Why aren’t you ready? The party is in an hour and you’re in your dinner wear?” She scolded, heading down the hall, muttering something or other about how irresponsible you were.

In all fairness you’d completely forgot about this party, it was a small celebration by your fathers lake house. A few kids from your old middle school would be there, probably dressed in diamonds and crystals. Private school wasn’t your favourite place in the world...

Quickly, you shoved on a gown from your wardrobe and did it up. Your mother rushed into the room, pulling your arm to take you to her bedroom where she curled your hair and applied some makeup to your face. “Can’t believe you’re wearing this old thing darling... there’s a pink dress in there that I bought especially for this event” she huffed. So you scuttled off down the hall and carefully stripped yourself of the green gown, being aware that you had a full face of makeup and hair was sprayed perfectly into place. The pink dress was pretty and hung perfectly on your frame... a bit flouncy but still beautiful.

Finally you were ready, getting into your fathers car and heading straight for your birthday party thingy.

Billy heaved Tommy up the wall and over into the garden.

Tux on and everything. If he was to say so himself, Billy thought he looked quite handsome, might keep it on and surprise you later.

They both landed on some bush and wiped themselves down, climbing from the foliage.

“There it is, the lake house. These really are some rich fuckers” Tommy smirked, admiring the huge mansion, lit up with classical music coming from it.

“Right, but I don’t see any bear?” A low growl causing Tommy to twiddle his thumbs.

“Eh well maybe there might not be beer, but! There might be... ok truth is these guys have a daughter and I’ve heard that she’s hella hot so I kinda wanna see for myself ya know” Billy rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“You have a girlfriend”

“You don’t”

“Yeah I - I don’t” Billy stiffened up, remembering the pinkie promise you’d forced him to make.

“Right so let’s go get you laid, and then you can tell me everything” He smirked, eyebrows wiggling as he pushed Billy towards the house.

“Look man I’m tired”

“Bullshit” he chuckled, pushing him through the doors. The house was indeed grand, marble check floors with beautiful fluffy rugs and a glamorous chandelier hanging in the middle.

“Who the hell owns this place?” Tommy shrugged and dusted off his tux.

“No way... I think there is beer” The mischievous grin played on Tommy’s face as he spied a rather large old man swigging back some liquid.

You sat glumly with Sabrina, she chatted on about how ravish her private school life was and how perfect everything was going, something like that. Your mind wondering to Billy, how he’s probably high as hell right now without you. Everything was boring and dull without him.

“Dude! Let’s check out upstairs” Tommy grabbed Billy’s arm and hauled him up the stairs a long corridor of various doors facing them. A voice started to make its way up the stairs to, quickly Tommy shoved himself and Billy into the first door. They both stumbled and fell into the huge room.

“Holy shit dude... this is the chicks room” Tommy slurred, that clearly wasn’t beer that he was chugging back.

Slowly Billy took in the surroundings. His eyes focusing on a picture on the dresser. Was that him? Then it dawned on him.

Who was rich, had a lake house and was a chick? His girlfriend.

Fuck.

Tommy started to shift through the closet, grabbing a pair of panties and holding them up.

“Woah... she’s foxy” he was hammered.

“Give me those” Billy snatched the panties out of Tommy’s hand.

The voice that had been following them got louder. Quickly Billy grabbed Tommy and pulled him into the other side of the bed, forcing him to duck.

“So this is my daughters room... goodness, it’s quite a mess, I apologise she doesn’t-“ A loud thud cut off your mother’s words. She let out a screech as two teenage boys stumbled from behind the bed. One drunk and laughing, the other looking like a deer in the headlights.

And that very moment led to Billy sat in front of the very Mayor himself, you sat right next to him and Tommy sitting against the wall.

“He’s my boyfriend and I tried to sneak him in” you mumbled, fuddling with your fingers, trying your best to not get Billy into trouble.

“So you snuck him through the window? Look I don’t want to hear it anymore, you can’t see him again, and you boy, if you come near my daughter again I’ll have you out of this town fast” Your father was beyond mad. He looked about ready to kill.

“But dad-“

“She didn’t sneak me in, it’s not her fault, I just wanted to surprise her and I chose the wrong night” billy piped up, looking at the floor.

“Surprise her? Why?”

“Because it’s her birthday tomorrow and we probably wouldn’t have seen eachother on the day because you usually plan stuff out for her... so I came early”

“Without a gift?”

“Dad-“

“I don’t have much money sir but I do have a gift for her”

“What is it?”

“DAD?!” You squeaked, “look I’m tired of this, it doesn’t matter anyway, I love Billy but clearly you only ever care if he’s got money or if he’s some private school kid but I don’t care because he’s amazing and none of that matters” You sternly presented your point. Grabbing Billy’s hand and squeezing it.

“Fine, be with him but don’t expect to come running to me for comfort when he leaves you high and dry, and also if you break my daughters heart-“

“Dad... he gets it” you muttered, looking in Billy’s eyes. A small smile on both of your faces. Quietly your mother stood smiling to herself, rembering when her own father had yelled at her for dating some bad boy, turns out that bad boy became the mayor so jokes on him she chuckled to herself. History sure does repeat itself.

Tommy’s snores came from the back of the room.

“Dipshit wake up” Billy shoved his leg.

“Fuck off” Tommy grumbled, eyes still closed, Carol was gonna kill him.

“Langauge” you scolded both of them, taking Billy into the party again.

“I think we should head to your room” Billy whispered. You gave him a playful smack on the arm.

“We just got told off we can’t do that now-“ Billy held his hand out, a certain pair of lace panties in his palm.

“Why do you have those?!”

“Tommy’s a fucking perv” he grunted, as you both shuffled back into your room.

It was gonna be nice not to have to hide Billy anymore.

#Billy Hargrove #billy x reader #stranger things billy #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove stranger things #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things 2 #stranger things 3 #stranger things #stranger things fanfic

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lolmouseywritings · 4 years ago

Text

Cursed Child

So this is what happens when I move, have no internet access to my computer, draw mdzs and watch Paper Dolls 2 gameplay from CJU on my phone.

I will now go back to writing the WenWuxian Au. I’ve been working on.

I hope you enjoy this, and if you’re confused, ask away.

P.S. I wrote this to get it out of my system. First time writing a horror story.

This will be on AO3, I also added the keep reading line

dabaizi: I think this mean brother-in-law. If I’m wrong, please let me know the correct title. I was trying to be accurate.

Summary: Lan Sizhui just wanted to run away. He didn’t realize it would drag him into a curse filled history of Gusu Manor. Running from fierce corpse’s, the ghost general and Yiling Patriarch, he could only hope he can get out of this alive.

Lan Sizhui sighed, his breath fogging up the glass window. He wasn't interested in the passing background, but it was something that got his mind off, as his cousin chastised him.

"Seriously? I know that I run away a lot, but I wasn't expecting you to do it," chastised Jin Ling tugging up his jacket. The chilly air from the mountains of Gusu was unexpected, but it was the place that Sizhui wanted to go.

Twelve years ago his parents passed away unexpectantly from the accident and he was taken in by his A-die and senior. It was fine, he guessed, but in the short while, his senior's health was failing. He was notorious for sleeping in late, but it was apparent that he had trouble getting up. Then he had trouble eating. He wouldn't even drink his favorite wine. Then one day-

He didn't wake up.

A-die didn't fare well, and now he hardly moved from Senior's side.

People called him cursed.

"Come on Jin Ling, no need to be upset, he just needed some space. Right Sizhui?"

"Yeah just ignore little mistress. He was just, if not, more worried than he let on." Then there goes. Jingyi was always riling up Jin Ling. It was a mystery to how they stayed being friends.

"Shut up, you- ZIZHEN! WATCH OUT!" Without question Zizhen swerves, hitting a tree branch and stopping the vehicle.

The boys step out, zipping up their jackets, and look around.

"Hey what the hell was that?" Questioned Jingyi looking straight at Jin Ling.

"There was a deer out on the road."

"There wasn't!"

"There was!" Ignoring the argument, Sizhui looks around and groans in despair. 'Damn the tire is out.' He looks at his phone and wonders just how cursed he is.

"My phone is out, is anyone else's phone working?" Asked Sizhui as the entire group shook their heads. All phones were out of service.

"Dammit! Uncle will break my legs!" Sizhui patted Jin Lings back.

"It's okay.” Jin Ling shakes it off and glares at him. His stance aggressive.

"You don't get to say that, when you packed up and left. I know shit's hard for you, but it's hard on everyone else too."

"Calm down," Zizhen starts. "I'm sure none of us want to be in this situation. Best bet is to go to the nearest town and call for a tow. We can also call our families and let them know where we are."

"The nearest town is Moling. It will take us at least 2 hours to walk! And it's cold and I know that none of us want to walk for that long!" Gripped Jin Ling. Sizhui and Zhizhen shared glances, thinking little mistress.

"HEY I SEE SMOKE!" Exclaimed Jingyi. The group looks up to see what looks like a dilapidated manor. They agree to separate in groups of two. Zizhen and Jingyi at the car and Sizhui and Jin Ling to walk up to the manor and see if they could make a call. Sizhui would have honestly preferred Zizhen or Jingyi. Jin Ling, however, wasn't about to let him out of his sight. He was way too much like his uncle than he cared to admit.

Not a surprised considering how close the Jiang/Wei siblings are. Walking up the mountain was a tiring endeavor as the steps seemed to never end. It was worth it once they reached the entrance until they realized that no one lived in the house.

"I guess the smoke was just our imagination?" Remarked Sizhui.

"So the four of us imagined smoke coming out of this place." Jin Ling rolls his eyes. A nervous laughter escapes Sizhui at Jin Ling's rebuttal. With a sigh, Jin Ling walks up and knocks on the door. The icy breeze passes by, causing both boys to shiver. The door opens with a creek.

With a hesitant step, Jin Ling goes in.

"Hello?" His voice echoes into the manor. Not waiting for Sizhui, he walks in.

"Wait Jin Ling." He walks up the steps ready to follow his friend. As he steps in, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dark. Or it would have if he didn't feel a sharp pain at the back of his head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "You promised me!" "W̷̧̎͌̿͌͋̀́ë̵̟́̍̈́̚i̸̩̭̤̦̱̐-" "You promised me they would be okay! AND NOW THEY ARE DEAD!" "Please, listen!" "I'M DONE LISTENING! I'M DO-" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Wake up. Junior master, wake up!" Sizhui groans, placing his hand to where his head felt a throb. He felt nothing wet, so that was wonderful news. There was a however a sizable bump on the back of his head.

"What happened?"

"Quick get up!" He looks up and notices that the voice he kept hearing was nowhere to be found.

"Where are you?"

"I'll tell you but you must leave the room or else-" He hears the heavy dragging of chains. It was his only warning before he hid into an old decorative closet. He held his breath as he took a peak thru the crack.

Pale skin, clumpy lumped black hair, poor posture and old tattered clothing. The chains were black, looked as heavy as they sounded, and covered in blood.

Sizhui had to cover his mouth to hold back the bile as the heavy scent of iron, which he was certain was not only from the chains, filtered into the air. He waited as the groans and dragging chains disappeared into the next room. He gave himself some time to get out.

"Magnificent job," he heard the voice as he looked around to discover its origin. "Take the door on your left and walk down the hallway till you reach a door. It should take you outside. Walk down the path next to the pond until it leads you to a building surrounded by bamboo, the Hanshi. Quickly!"

Without a word Sizhui follows the directions, eyes and ears peeled for anymore unearthly beings. Thank god he didn't have to take the door that- he shivered- thing took.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The man sitting before him was wrapped in gold robes with a peony emblem in front. He held a certain charisma that it almost made Sizhui want to sit down and drink the tea that was sitting innocently on the table. Prepared just for him.

Guangyao, as he presented himself, had the smile that made Sizhui want to run in the opposite direction. Especially when he told him what was happening.

"What do you mean that I'm stuck here?"

"Hm, kids these days are hard of hearing, I guess." Upon looking Sizhui's face Guangyao sighed and refilled his cup. "I mean that until you can set the resentful spirits to rest, there's nothing you can do to escape. The Yiling Patriarch has us trapped here until you can vanquish him."

"And why can't you do it?"

"I tried and failed. Now the Patriarch has me trapped here for who knows how long." Sizhui let out a breath of frustration.

Great! He leaves his home because his life is falling apart, gets caught at the gas station by his friends, their tire blows out because of a random tree branch, even though Jin Ling claims it was a dee- wait!

"JIN LING! Where's my cousin Jin Ling!" Guangyao looks at him confused.

"Jin who?"

"My cousin! He was with me!"

"Ah well, it's possible that he’s lost in the manor as you, Sizhui-er. Though I would start looking. He may end up dead before the night is over."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Sizhui cursed his luck for the umpteenth time. There were zombies in here, zombies that moved faster than what he would have liked them too, and some of them liked to explode!

They sucked!

They sucked so hard that- argh!!!!

He hated them!

It didn't help that he met the chained zombie, a fierce corpse, as Guangyao like to call them. He saw him this time when he opened the door, thinking the room was clear, and chased him across the manor. He was lucky enough to find another closet to hide in. As soon as the creature left, Sizhui carefully climbed out and walked to another path.

Ok, so to recap he went to the library and found Elder Teacher's Scroll. It had spells for evocation, suppression, and rest. He didn't understand it much, but once he found the other items that he requested, he was sure Guangyao could help him. He placed the scroll in his back pocket, making sure it was secure.

There was still no sign of Jin Ling increasing his worry, as he hoped his cousin did not have to face those creatures. He kept walking until he heard nothing. The crickets did not chirp and the sound of the wind was ominous. It had a haunting tune, one that spoke of longing-

"Is that a flute? No, it's a-". He looks up to see a man in a black robe, red trim sitting on the rooftop, a red ribbon holding back his hair. It was a black bamboo Dizi, the type that Senior would love to get his hands on and play. It looked like the man did not hear him until he opened his eyes, looking straight at him. They had a red glow to them that spoke of pain and suffering.

"Sen-"

"My, my, look what the mouse dragged in! Tell me, what did you do to get trapped in here?" The animosity in his voice forced Sizhui to recoil back. The laughter sent a frigid chill down his spine.

This wasn't, this wasn't-

"No matter, let's get rid of the pests, shall we, Hanguang-jun?" With a few notes from the Dizi, the room marked Jingshi bursts open and out popped a man dressed in a white robe as if he was in mourning, a white ribbon around his forehead and his long bangs covered his face.

Sizhui moved out of the way as the blade cut thru his jacket sleeve. The sting on his arm caused him to hiss. Run! He thought. He had to run so he could stay alive.

He ran to the path towards the classroom, but the man had an unnatural speed to him. He was upon him, but Sizhui did not plan to give up. He took another direction, and he was there. Another and he too was there. No matter what path he took, he was right in front of him.

Fleeing would not work, so he looked around and found an old rusted blade. He held up to block a strike from above and fell, feeling the shock to his very bones. Such a ferocious attack!

It didn't appear, as the man walked to him slowly carrying what looked like an air of serenity, but the movement and aggressiveness of his blade was monstrous. It betrayed the strength that this fierce corpse was capable of.

Sizhui couldn't even get up. It was stupid! He thought fighting that thing was his only choice to live, and now he regretted it.

He thought of the mischievous laughter and the stern but reassuring ‘Mn' from his guardians, his parents, as he closed his eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Wen Qing, Wen Ning, it's okay! I'll give them the Stygian Tiger Seal and I'll go to Gusu. When I do that, they'll leave you and everyone else alone."

"Ẅ̵̧̨̠͇̦̩̹͕̰͉̥͔̪̯̱̙́̉̅͛́̅̎̔̎́̐́̔̃̃́̏̍͑̀̃͘̕͜ͅẻ̷̤̼̭̭͍̮̝͎̪̯͕͈͔̻͍͐͒̾̌͊̆̂̓̿̋̇̾͊̾̎̒̉̆͜͠į̴̛̤̩͕̙̗̥̠̦̬̙͈̗̟̖̆̽̃́͂̀̏̀͒̊̎̔̇̎̈̃̿͑̋̄̚͝ ̵̨̛̘̯͈̻̔͋͒̀͌̀̌́̌͋W̴̨̛̖̮̖̫̗̣̫͖̣̌̌̏̃̀̐̔̐̆͛͛̆̿͆̀̈͑͂͌͑̈́̂̓̕u̷̧̖͈͕̹̬̫͓̲̠͉̭͐̈́̓͋͐x̶̳͓̪̟̯̜̯̳͙̳͇̪̳̻̳̦̺̲̝̟̓̄͋̅̈́̑̋͜͠i̴̢̨̛̛̙̱̺͍̜͚̗̟͉̗̹̘̝̦͌͑͛̌̃̎̇̔̀̋̈́̊͊̾͋̉̓̽̚͜͠͠ͅͅa̶̹͖̤̝̗̻̹͎̦̤͚̮̯̪͎͇͕̗̫͙̠̹̹̎̇̀̈́͆̃̃̈́̈̈́̈̎͜͠͝͝n̵̳͉̤͈̗̽̏͛̈́͗̊͝͠, you know we can't accept this! You paid your debt! You took us out of the camp, you brought my brother back. Don't do this!" Ẅ̵̧̨̠͇̦̩̹͕̰͉̥͔̪̯̱̙́̉̅͛́̅̎̔̎́̐́̔̃̃́̏̍͑̀̃͘̕͜ͅẻ̷̤̼̭̭͍̮̝͎̪̯͕͈͔̻͍͐͒̾̌͊̆̂̓̿̋̇̾͊̾̎̒̉̆͜͠į̴̛̤̩͕̙̗̥̠̦̬̙͈̗̟̖̆̽̃́͂̀̏̀͒̊̎̔̇̎̈̃̿͑̋̄̚͝ ̵̨̛̘̯͈̻̔͋͒̀͌̀̌́̌͋W̴̨̛̖̮̖̫̗̣̫͖̣̌̌̏̃̀̐̔̐̆͛͛̆̿͆̀̈͑͂͌͑̈́̂̓̕u̷̧̖͈͕̹̬̫͓̲̠͉̭͐̈́̓͋͐x̶̳͓̪̟̯̜̯̳͙̳͇̪̳̻̳̦̺̲̝̟̓̄͋̅̈́̑̋͜͠i̴̢̨̛̛̙̱̺͍̜͚̗̟͉̗̹̘̝̦͌͑͛̌̃̎̇̔̀̋̈́̊͊̾͋̉̓̽̚͜͠͠ͅͅa̶̹͖̤̝̗̻̹͎̦̤͚̮̯̪͎͇͕̗̫͙̠̹̹̎̇̀̈́͆̃̃̈́̈̈́̈̎͜͠͝͝n̵̳͉̤͈̗̽̏͛̈́͗̊͝͠ shakes his head.

"They have to, besides my control isn't the same as before. It won't be long before they break through the seal. At least this way I can save-" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CLANG!

Sizhui opened his eyes as he saw that the blade, ready to strike him, wrapped in chains. The howl sent a shiver up his spine as the chain pulled back, sending Hanguang-jun back to fight the fierce corpse that followed him.

'I guess they're not friends!' He thought as he looked up and saw that the mysterious Dizi player gone. Seeing an opening, Sizhui runs into the Jingshi and looks for the instrument, a Guqin. It sat on the table next to two white jars covered with a white cloth. From the smell of the fermentation, he could tell that taking a sip would burn his throat.

He shook his head. He had no time to think of such things and grabbed the instrument. It would be too heavy to lug this around and heads to the Hanshi.

He forced himself to forget that Senior looked like the man from the rooftop, along with the laughter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He told Guangyao all about the Hanguang-jun and the mysterious man from the roof.

"Great, he knows you are here. Look if you see them again just run. When Hanguang-jun died they already knew him as one of the top cultivators. As for the man you saw, well, the Yiling Patriarch is an entirely different beast on his own. His ability to cultivate resentful energy is how he can bring fierce corpse's to life." He sips from the tea, savors it, then sets it down.

"From what you told me the Ghost General-"

"Ghost General?" Sizhui receives a silent reprimand from him causing him to stop talking.

"It's rude to interrupt. The fierce corpse with the chains. They knew him as Wen Ning, the Ghost General of the Yiling Patriarch. Though I find it odd that they would be fighting. Maybe something happened?" Sizhui shrugs. Everything was going over his head. Really, the sensible thing would be to grab Jin Ling and run to the edge of the forest and find a way out.

Jin Ling was still missing, though, and Guangyao had no way of knowing where he might be. Plus, it wasn't as if he could leave the Hanshi. He’s stuck in this beautiful and dark room, a partition serving as a cutoff from the tea table and the bed.

He notices a figure sitting slouched forward.

"So you've noticed my roommate."

"Who is he?"

"The last Sect master of Gusu, Zewu-jun."

"He's alive!"

"Hardly. He’s also afflicted by the same curse as me." Before he could ask more Guangyao smiles at him. "It's best that you look for the next items on the list."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With supplies ready, given by Guangyao, and an old rusted sword he found, which he knew he was useless with, made Sizhui felt slightly braver. Hopefully, the talisman's would be helpful.

The Library Pavilion was tricky to get to. He knew something was following him and knowing what the denizens of this cursed place was like, Sizhui was rightfully hesitant to meet this creature.

Finally reaching the place, he walks around looking for the secret passageway. Being in the library, however, he could not help but look at an open book talking about a chord assassination technique. Backing away, he forced himself not to jump when he heard whispers.

Lan-er-gege! You can't be mad! I've called your name so many times. Sizhui stops there. Lan? That's his family name. Why would he hear his family name? He thought back about his parents saying that they had an ancestral home once. But they never finished telling him anymore than that. After all, how could they when the 18 wheeler hit them, pushing their car over-

"Find the secret passage. Find the flags. Find the secret passage. Find the flags." He tripped. Face smacking the floor.

Did he mention how much he hated this place?

He rubbed his nose, checking for blood. Thankfully, there wasn't any and looked to see his foot caught on a handle. A handle that led to a door under the library. The secret passageway. He pulls it up and walks down the staircase.

Dust and cobwebs covered the entire place. Gulping he walks forward using the sword to clear the way making sure to not disturb any of the spiders.

"Well, I know that Jin Ling is definitely not here. He would just screech at this sight." He finds a stack of flags at the end of the room next to a jar. He makes a quick count and realizes he’s short one.

"Okay, where's the last one?" Looking around, he feels a sudden vertigo.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Come to Gusu with me.

I can't. What will happen to the Wen's? You know that the other Sects want them dead.

I can talk to brother.

I- I

Please W̴̢̳̻̮̪̱̤̖̲̤̟̱͌̈͌̆̚͠͠ͅę̶̮͖͍̕ḯ̴̛͚͉̜̙͉̰̱͐͝ ̴̲̺̭̰̆̈́͐́͒̀̋̋̋̓̾̕͠͝W̴̨̛̖̮̖̫̗̣̫͖̣̌̌̏̃̀̐̔̐̆͛͛̆̿͆̀̈͑͂͌͑̈́̂̓̕u̷̧̖͈͕̹̬̫͓̲̠͉̭͐̈́̓͋͐x̶̳͓̪̟̯̜̯̳͙̳͇̪̳̻̳̦̺̲̝̟̓̄͋̅̈́̑̋͜͠i̴̢̨̛̛̙̱̺͍̜͚̗̟͉̗̹̘̝̦͌͑͛̌̃̎̇̔̀̋̈́̊͊̾͋̉̓̽̚͜͠͠ͅͅa̶̹͖̤̝̗̻̹͎̦̤͚̮̯̪͎͇͕̗̫͙̠̹̹̎̇̀̈́͆̃̃̈́̈̈́̈̎͜͠͝͝n̵̳͉̤͈̗̽̏͛̈́͗̊͝͠ come to Gusu. I will talk to brother. The Wen's will be safe. A̷͕̯͔̖̤͖̫̼̫̹̼͛̏͆͑͆͂̏̏͊͂͂́͘-̵̡͍̗̬̯͚̹̹̱̼̰̟̘̩̖̥́̐̄̈́Ỵ̵̢̮͎͚̱̗̯̘̹̉̋̂̔̓̍̇͆͗̈̃͑̐̈́̋̋̐͊̉͛̚͘͝͝ͅu̸̧̡̖͕̼̗͓̳͙͍̠̹̙̗̙̘̥͍̯͖̫̦̣͆̊͠͝ȧ̶̡̖̳̫̟͔̣̩̋̔̀̆̀̒͠ň̸̢̧̨̛̘̠̗͍͇̭̯̪̠͕̤͈͚͔̟͕͔͖̖͕͌̇̈́̿̏̈̇́̃̏̈́̎̃̚̚͜͠ will be safe-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A hand holds him up, and he calls out a name.

"Jin Ling?"

"Jin Ling? There is no Jin Ling, though there is a bastard with that family name." Her hair was up and her dirty black robes have seen better days. It looked burnt and ashy. She had a stern face, but oddly he felt the urge to see her smile. He shakes the thought and looks back, her face familiar, though he knows he never met her.

"Who-" She shushes him as they hear footsteps from above. It was slow and methodical. He catches sight of a white robe. Eyes widening, he hopes that his heartbeat would not betray their location. They lean back against the wall, standing still as statues. She silently signals him to follow her. He watches as she walks a few steps past the bookshelf to reveal a secret door, initially hidden by the shadows of the room. He works his way towards her.

The jar, caught by his jacket, falls with a loud crash. The woman gasps and holds out her hand. He darts to the door as Hanguang-jun breaks down the floor beneath him. As they enter, the woman is quick to close the opening making a grating rocky sound. The stone door should hopefully hold off the fierce corpse. His companion seemed to think otherwise.

"Quickly! Follow me!" They run down the passageway which leads to the forest.

"He's still following us!"

"How do you know?" The sound of trees and branches falling behind him answers his question. Leaving him to wonder if this Hanguang-jun was strong enough to cut through the stone.

He's forced to stop when the woman turns towards him. From her robes she pulls out a needle which she uses to cut his cheek. He hisses as he watches her make a sigil. Something red and hazy appears next to her.

"You go down the path quickly, I'll meet you soon!" He didn't question her and took the path she pointed. He stopped at a dead end. For once it wasn't scary, in fact there were rabbits there. Sizhui sits down by the tree and hugs himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

W̷̧̪̱͚͖̅̐̌̀́͠ȇ̶̛̹̜̐̋̀̎̈̄͝į̸̡̗̤͈̪͉̈́ ̷̟̻͔̋̋̓͂̌̋͊W̴̨̛̖̮̖̫̗̣̫͖̣̌̌̏̃̀̐̔̐̆͛͛̆̿͆̀̈͑͂͌͑̈́̂̓̕u̷̧̖͈͕̹̬̫͓̲̠͉̭͐̈́̓͋͐x̶̳͓̪̟̯̜̯̳͙̳͇̪̳̻̳̦̺̲̝̟̓̄͋̅̈́̑̋͜͠i̴̢̨̛̛̙̱̺͍̜͚̗̟͉̗̹̘̝̦͌͑͛̌̃̎̇̔̀̋̈́̊͊̾͋̉̓̽̚͜͠͠ͅͅa̶̹͖̤̝̗̻̹͎̦̤͚̮̯̪͎͇͕̗̫͙̠̹̹̎̇̀̈́͆̃̃̈́̈̈́̈̎͜͠͝͝n̵̳͉̤͈̗̽̏͛̈́͗̊͝͠. I love you.

Ah, L̷͍̣̟̬̤̹̝̜̪̮̭̈̌̀̿̑͑̈́̐̈́̐̇ȃ̵̧̫͕̪̰̻n̴͔̳͖͗̑͒ ̸̲̖̜͕̈́̀̂͌̏̐͂̇̎̚͘Ŵ̴̭͊̾̎̌̆͜͠a̴͍͉̳͍̐̓͜͜ͅͅͅn̴̜̺͖̰͉͖̻̆̂̾̓̈́̕g̸̗̈́͋͂̊̑͌̇͝͝j̸̢͓̣͎̟͠i̶͇̚! Warn me when you tell me things like this.

L̷͍̣̟̬̤̹̝̜̪̮̭̈̌̀̿̑͑̈́̐̈́̐̇ȃ̵̧̫͕̪̰̻n̴͔̳͖͗̑͒ ̸̲̖̜͕̈́̀̂͌̏̐͂̇̎̚͘Ŵ̴̭͊̾̎̌̆͜͠a̴͍͉̳͍̐̓͜͜ͅͅͅn̴̜̺͖̰͉͖̻̆̂̾̓̈́̕g̸̗̈́͋͂̊̑͌̇͝͝j̸̢͓̣͎̟͠i̶͇̚, take responsibility and hug me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He wakes with a start.

That wasn't- that wasn't them.

It looked like them, but it wasn't them.

"Hey Sizhui! Wake up or I'll break your legs!" Sizhui rubs his eyes as he looks up to finally sees his cousin.

"Jin Ling, where were you?" Jin Ling scoffs.

"Looking for you! Come one let's get out of here. This place is creepy." Sizhui nods and stands up. They walk out of the grove.

"What were you doing, anyway?" Jin Ling asks, rubbing his arms up and down. Seems he lost his jacket while searching for him.

"I was running from zombies." Jin Ling stops to look at him, then laughs mockingly.

"I'm serious! These fierce corpses were chasing me, and I had to run around getting these items. Look! I had to grab these flags to do a ritual-" He feels a sharp pinch on his arm. "Hey!"

"Can you hear yourself," asks Jin Ling as he tsks. "Zombies, rituals, really Sizhui I know you don't want to go home but stop playing around."

"I'm not-"

"Really? Then why don't you go visit jiu'jiu'-Xian? Visit-"

"I'm not playing!"

"As if! Look, I know the shit that everyone is saying. Cursed child, whatever! You just punch them in the face!"

"uh... A-die says I shouldn't."

"Your A-die doesn't even respond anymore. Coward." Sizhui turns his head sharply, eyes narrowing. Jin Ling raises his hand up. "Sorry. Low blow, but I'm serious. Everyone is worried about you and you can ignore those gossiping blowhards. They just want to say something to feel important." Sizhui doesn't even bother to get after for him.

"How did you find me, anyway? I didn't leave any notes." Jin Ling raises his eyes in disbelief.

"We sent pictures on the web and tv. Some dude caught sight of you at the gas station." Odd, he only saw granny there taking care of the counter and there were no cars around. Maybe it was a passing vehicle and the guy just saw him. It didn't matter. He tried to run because he wanted to escape. Better for everyone.

Ever since his parents died A-die and Senior took care of him as if he was their child. They still told stories about his mama and baba. A-die even taught him how to play the Guqin, though he knew he was rusty now. He stopped playing when A-die stopped responding. That was almost six months ago. Now he was the cursed kid that no one wanted to be around. Anyone that takes care of him meets a grisly end. He receives a harsh slap on his back.

"Hey, when we get back I'll stand by you and help you beat up those whinny ninnies." Sizhui snorts.

"Whinny ninnies? Have you been hanging out with Jiu'jiu-Cheng?" Jin Ling scoffs looking away, but not before Sizhui caught sight of his face turning red. It was then that they heard moans coming from one of the forked paths.

"Sizhui. Tell me you were really kidding about those zombies." Jin Ling stares at Sizhui, who shakes his head. They both turn just in time to see the fierce corpses heading towards them, now running since it caught sight of them.

With no prompting, they ran side by side to the hallways of Gusu Manor. Left, right they ran to hide from the monsters, but no matter where they went they found themselves unable to outrun them. It was as if there was a tracker on them. Letting these creatures were they were going.

Sizhui has a horrid realization.

"Jin Ling! Take this path! It should lead you to the Hanshi, you should be safe there!"

"What? No!"

"Do it! Wait for me there! I will meet you there!" He pushes his cousin and runs the opposite direction. The fierce corpses ignore Jin Ling and follow him instead.

Damn Guangyao! Couldn't he have told him that these flags were a damn beacon for these monsters! And he wanted to smack himself for leaving the sword behind. Though it would do much good since he had a horde.

He remembers the talisman and finds one that say's repress. As he runs he is quick to grab a box that was the perfect size for the flags, place them inside and places the talisman on it. It glows a light blue and slowly it appears as if he is losing them. Once he ran far enough, he found that he was further than he intended from the manor.

Luck was on his side when he caught sight of large, trumpet-shaped flowers. They were an intense blue. Finally, Sizhui was on his way to the Gentian house.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arriving at the house was no trouble. It was the last item that was the issue. Guangyao had told him that at the Gentian House there should house the Stygian Tiger Seal. The only thing he found was the missing flag, which he placed in the box for safekeeping.

No matter where he looked, he could not find the item in question. Under the bed, in the desk drawer, the bookshelf with a sealed red and white urn, he even went to look under the boards, but nothing. He was about to call it quits when he heard the door open.

He hides in the closet and peeks to see the Yiling Patriarch. He looked around, confused. Crap! He’s bound to notice him.

"Aiyah! I must have left a mess. Oh, well." He sits down, pulls out a board and reaches in. From there, he pulls out a bottle that reads Emperor's Smile.

"He, he, he There's not much left so I may as well enjoy what's left." He pulls off the seal and drinks it. The fermentation strong in the air. Sizhui tries not to gag.

THUD! THUD!

He holds his breath when he sees the man stand up, angry.

"Get lost!"

THUD! THUD!

"GET LOST!" He hears the bottle of wine crash against the door, the resentful energy feeling thick in the air.

"GET LOST! GET LOST! GET LOST! DIRTY LIAR! CRUEL WORTHLESS DIRTY LIAR! MURDERER!" Sizhui almost felt faint by how much resentment was filling the air. Thick inky clouds expelled from the Yiling Patriarch. He wanted to cry, yell, anything, but all he could do was let out a pitiful sob. He sits back, upset.

It becomes quiet, the energy he felt gone. Sizhui covers his mouth. Did he hear him?

He sits still, listening. The footsteps are slow, as if trying to make the most minimal sound as possible. Maybe he heard but didn't know where the sound came from? If he's lucky he can sneak out and distract the Yiling Patriarch and maybe come back?

The door opens as a pale hand pulls him out. He screams as he's thrown to the partition.

"Oh, and look at this small mouse. Did you think I would not find you?" Sizhui crawls back, trying to get away from the man. The steps he took were still slow, but also predatory. The resentment, the ominous clouds now hung heavy in the air.

"Tell me what are you looking for mouse? Maybe I can help you?" Teased the man viciously. Sizhui is still crawling back until he finds an incense burner.

He throws it. It didn't hit him, but it gave him the chance he was looking for, which was to run to the door. As he opened the door, he barely missed being decapitated when he ducked to an opening.

"Damn that Hanguang-jun!" He doesn't turn to look back. But he could feel that they were close, which was bad. All the running was getting to him. He didn't know how long he could keep it up. He was about to trip, when he’s suddenly wrapped in chains and pulled up to the sky.

He's caught by the Ghost General. His heart, wrought in fear, goes to his throat as he faints.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stop following the demonic path

Ah, L̷͍̣̟̬̤̹̝̜̪̮̭̈̌̀̿̑͑̈́̐̈́̐̇ȃ̵̧̫͕̪̰̻n̴͔̳͖͗̑͒ ̸̲̖̜͕̈́̀̂͌̏̐͂̇̎̚͘Ŵ̴̭͊̾̎̌̆͜͠a̴͍͉̳͍̐̓͜͜ͅͅͅn̴̜̺͖̰͉͖̻̆̂̾̓̈́̕g̸̗̈́͋͂̊̑͌̇͝͝j̸̢͓̣͎̟͠i̶͇̚, you have no-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

L̷͍̣̟̬̤̹̝̜̪̮̭̈̌̀̿̑͑̈́̐̈́̐̇ȃ̵̧̫͕̪̰̻n̴͔̳͖͗̑͒ ̸̲̖̜͕̈́̀̂͌̏̐͂̇̎̚͘Ŵ̴̭͊̾̎̌̆͜͠a̴͍͉̳͍̐̓͜͜ͅͅͅn̴̜̺͖̰͉͖̻̆̂̾̓̈́̕g̸̗̈́͋͂̊̑͌̇͝͝j̸̢͓̣͎̟͠i̶͇̚, than-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ẅ̵̧̨̠͇̦̩̹͕̰͉̥͔̪̯̱̙́̉̅͛́̅̎̔̎́̐́̔̃̃́̏̍͑̀̃͘̕͜ͅẻ̷̤̼̭̭͍̮̝͎̪̯͕͈͔̻͍͐͒̾̌͊̆̂̓̿̋̇̾͊̾̎̒̉̆͜͠į̴̛̤̩͕̙̗̥̠̦̬̙͈̗̟̖̆̽̃́͂̀̏̀͒̊̎̔̇̎̈̃̿͑̋̄̚͝ ̵̨̛̘̯͈̻̔͋͒̀͌̀̌́̌͋W̴̨̛̖̮̖̫̗̣̫͖̣̌̌̏̃̀̐̔̐̆͛͛̆̿͆̀̈͑͂͌͑̈́̂̓̕u̷̧̖͈͕̹̬̫͓̲̠͉̭͐̈́̓͋͐x̶̳͓̪̟̯̜̯̳͙̳͇̪̳̻̳̦̺̲̝̟̓̄͋̅̈́̑̋͜͠i̴̢̨̛̛̙̱̺͍̜͚̗̟͉̗̹̘̝̦͌͑͛̌̃̎̇̔̀̋̈́̊͊̾͋̉̓̽̚͜͠͠ͅͅa̶̹͖̤̝̗̻̹͎̦̤͚̮̯̪͎͇͕̗̫͙̠̹̹̎̇̀̈́͆̃̃̈́̈̈́̈̎͜͠͝͝n̵̳͉̤͈̗̽̏͛̈́͗̊͝͠ .

Did you forget what we promised? What's right and what's wrong?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Did you hear? The Jin Sect is cursed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another vision. Great. Ever since his hit on the head he tried to ignore them as time passed, but whatever happened back then seemed to want to make itself known. No matter if the audience is unwilling or not. He takes a deep breath and opens his eyes.

He awoke in what looked like a boarding room for school kids. As he got up, he’s quickly pushed down.

"You need to rest. You've had a hard night." It was the woman from before.

"No, no, I need to continue"

"And as a doctor I need you to sleep. My brother found you and saved you from those two." Sizhui’s confused.

"Your brother. He fought the Ghost General?”

"He is the Ghost General." His eyes widened as he looked around. "He's not here, but I am. My name is Wen Qing and you are?"

"Lan Sizhui." He noticed her hand stiffened for a moment, then continue with his wounds. She wrapped and cleaned his arm with a bandage and was now cleaning a wound was on the wing of his back. Funny, it must have been the adrenaline running in his system. He didn’t realize he was injured till now.

"What exactly are you doing? Running around, you should be leaving, not staying." She reprimanded as she cleaned and tidied up her supplies.

"I was told that I could not leave until I broke the curse."

"And who told you that?"

"Guangyao." Her hand freezes just as she was about to close her box.

"Guangyao? Jin Guangyao, you're listening to that beast!"

"What are you talking about?" He asked, understanding now that there was something more to his mysterious benefactor.

"He didn't tell me he was a Jin, just that his name is Guangyao." Wen Qing scoffs.

"Only because he doesn't want his crimes to be known. Listen here! You need to stay away from that man. He will only use you and throw you away once you're no longer any use to him."

"What do you mean?!" Wen Qing sighs.

"He is the reason that this curse came to be. A long time ago our leader, Wen Ruohan, lost the war and they killed the survivors off. Only Wei Wuxian stood for us since we save him and his brother." She closes the box and puts it away.

"During the war he created the Stygian Tiger Seal. It was powerful, but it did its job, however later on he grew to fear how much resentful energy it was consuming. So he made a deal with the remaining Sects. He would give himself up and the Stygian Tiger Seal. In return, the Sects would let us live in peace." "I'm guessing that's not what happened."

"They killed us all and those remaining died without medical help. Even the smallest-" she chocked as tears fell from her eyes.

"You're not alive. Are you?"

"I died trying to hide little A-Yuan. But from what I hear, he didn't make it." She wipes away the tears.

"I don't get it. Why is it Jin Guangyao's fault?"

"It's his fault because under his father's order, he incited the other clans to attack by killing Sect Leader Nie and blaming us for it. If it wasn't for his brother, Nie Huaisang, finding out, then everyone would have believed we were guilty. I only know this because even now the remaining spirits love to whisper, but Nie Huaisang, visited Wei Wuxian. He was heartbroken when he couldn't visit A-Yuan's funeral. They thought he was there to console him. They were friends during their schooling here in Gusu. Then a few days later he activated the curse. And now we are here, stuck in Gusu, unable to move on."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

L̵̡̧̢̞̦̰͖͍͚͉̳͒͌̀͗̀â̵̧̯̫̦̳̟͉͖̣̝̄̆͑̆̾̑̈́n̶̥̔͋́̈̊́͘ ̸̢͉̬̞̲̘͎͊̐Ŵ̴̭͊̾̎̌̆͜͠a̴͍͉̳͍̐̓͜͜ͅͅͅn̴̜̺͖̰͉͖̻̆̂̾̓̈́̕g̸̗̈́͋͂̊̑͌̇͝͝j̸̢͓̣͎̟͠i̶͇̚ stood outside-

-wail in agony.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Jin Ling! Jin Ling! Where are you?!" He pulled open the door, not caring about the commotion he was causing.

Both of them were getting out of here, he thought. They weren't staying there a minute longer.

"Sizhui-er! What's the matter?!" Guangyao appeared by the partition as he walked over to calm the teenager.

"My cousin! I sent him here. I know it. I saw him head this way."

"No, no, no, I saw no one come by. Here," he pours a cup of tea and presents it to Sizhui. It felt warm to the touch. "Drink this. You would feel better afterwards." Sizhui stared at the cup and felt a surge of anger as he threw the teacup, not quite hitting Jin Guangyao, but close enough.

"ENOUGH! Enough with the lies! Enough with the half-truths! Tell me what do my parents Lan Zhan and Wei Ying have to do with the spirits of Hanguang-jun and the Yiling Patriarch!?"

Jin Guangyao sighed, sat down, as if he was the one who ran around this damn place, tired. He looked at him straight in the eyes.

"It took a while to find all of you, you know."

"Excuse me?!"

"Lan Zhan and Wei Ying are the reincarnations of Lan Wangji, Hanguang-jun and Wei Wuxian, the Yiling Patriarch. Or rather, their half-reincarnations. So I called them. Pulled their souls over here." Sizhui punched him.

"YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THAT MY PARENTS ARE COMATOSED BECAUSE OF YOU!" Guangyao laughed, not a care in the world. The secret now out.

"See I made many choices, choices that led to the deaths of an entire sect, that led to the terrible descent into madness for Wei Wuxian. I didn't care. I was working my way to getting my father's approval, or at least I thought I did." He grunts as he gets up, wiping the blood from his lip.

"I was a war hero and shared the cups of brotherhood with two other known figures from the war, Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen. Yet, no matter what I did, it wasn't enough." He gave an empty laugh. Sizhui felt uncomfortable as he felt the despair.

"I ruined Sects for that man so that our Sect could stand on top. I killed one venerated brother so there would be no opposition, had the Wen-dog survivors blamed so we would kill them off. I destroyed Wei Wuxian's reason for living and relationship so we could appear righteous and powerful. Then I destroyed the one that truly mattered." Sizhui gulped as the man in front of him reminisced.

"I didn't mean to, but I failed to see how much Huanguang-Jun loved Wei Wuxian. It was easy to see how much Zewu-jun loved his brother, and for him I made sure no harm would come to his little brother. Zewu-jun, he called me his equal. I wasn't some son of a prostitute, I was special to him. When I had the Wen's killed, the Yiling Patriarch cast his curse, which Huanguang-jun accepted... I saw how Zewu-jun broke down to see his brother give up, be taken willingly."

“Hanguang-jun blamed himself.” Stated Sizhui. Jin Guangyao nodded.

"Yes, and maybe he wanted to show that he would stand by Wei Wuxian's side. Who knows, that man didn't speak much, always keeping his thoughts to himself. Like I said, I didn't care about anyone else except for my father's approval and... Zewu-jun, Lan Xichen." Sizhui looks back at the man sitting on the other side of the room, hidden by the partition.

"Discovering what I did, Zewu-jun immediately blamed himself, for without his blessing's and his help, I would not have been able to do the things I did. When I tried to break the curse, the reason we couldn't was because of me. Zewu-jun could no longer trust me. So we- I failed. The only thing we did was just forcefully subdue part of the spirits." Jin Guangyao clenched his teeth, holding back the tears that threatening to spill from his eyes.

"My betrayal was too much, the pain that it wrought was too heavy, that he just shut down. I don't care wether any of the spirits here can find healing, but for Zewu-jun I want to break this curse and maybe he can finally move on." Sizhui sighed.

He just wanted to find his cousin and get the hell out. However, hearing what happened to the Wen siblings living the half cursed life. The memories of Lan Wangji sitting outside the Gentian house when he wanted to get Wei Wuxian to at least talk to him, hear him, see him. The pain when Wei Wuxian wanted to save little A-Yuan only to die. He never even got to see his body to mourn properly. Damn his bleeding heart.

"Fine, let's get started."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Mingshi was musty smelling, perhaps from the mold, dark and littered with cobwebs. They worked quickly to clear it with only the light of the moon, from the broken ceiling, to guide them. Though ominous, Gusu must have been a beautiful place. He could almost imagine the foliage from the outside, how the ponds and rivers would have trickled and the birds singing.

But it wasn't. He would need his friends' hands to count how many steps he broke from him just placing the slightest pressure. He picked up the scroll and read the evocation and rest. As he told Guangyao it had been a while, but he hoped he could remember the hand placement to play these scores.

A nagging question had been on Sizhui's mind. Would the ritual work? And why? Figuring it wouldn't hurt to ask, Sizhui turned to ask Guangyao the nagging question.

"Sizhui-er, I have every belief that this ritual will work."

"And why is that?"

"Because, you have Wen Yuan's spirit." Sizhui's blank face caused Guangyao to sigh heavily.

"Part of the reason for Wei Wuxian's madness is that he blames himself for his adopted son's death. When he realizes that you're the reincarnation of Wen Yuan it may settle him down enough to allow us to play Rest for the peace that he denied himself." With all the cloak and dagger from Guangyao, his word was useless. So why go along with this?

"And if that does not work?"

"In the words of today's youth, we are totally screwed" Sizhui snorts. Guangyao side glances at him questioningly.

"You are out of touch."

"Shut up." Odd how that reminded him of Jin Ling. That is the most frustrating part. He met his cousin finally only to lose track of him.

He's startled when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

"I have it on good authority that your cousin is fine." Sizhui felt a familiar course of anger but was too tired to act on it.

"Is this something you've known for a while?"

"Not until I had confirmation." Knowing the man by now, that could have been a few hours ago or maybe right from the beginning. It was no use now.

Quickly they set the Spirit Flags and drew the sigil for evocation from the Elder Teacher's scroll. He pivots to see Guangyao holding the flute, Liebling as he called it, touching the mouthpiece, his lips pursed.

"Will you be able to play it?" Guangyao snaps out of his trance and nods.

"I've practiced, just not with this instrument, but it should be no different." Sizhui nods and takes his place.

"What do we do about the Stygian Tiger Seal?" That had been the only thing he hadn't been unable to bring with him since he had to run for his life. Really, he would do anything to not get near the madman.

He... he wanted to go home with his A-die and Senior.

"He'll bring it with him. There is no way that he would leave without it." Guangyao ignored Sizhui's glare as he puffed in indignation.

"Then what was the point of me going to the Gentian House?"

"To let him know that I haven't stopped."

Lan Sizhui had to count to twenty in order not to kill Jin Guangyao.

"You are the most aggravating man I ever met."

"Yes, Dage would tell me that often." He was not laughing. He wants to go home. Wants to find Jin Ling. Eat Lotus Pork Rib Soup and forget that this night ever existed. Sadly, he let himself get duped, he realized. He should have grabbed his cousin the first chance he found him and just ran the hell out of this place. Now he’s stuck here, baiting a madman who apparently had every right to curse this place, who held... Senior's soul.

He realized the implication now. Did Senior not wake up because now, in his previous life, Wei Wuxian the Yiling Patriarch held his soul. It would make sense, weirdly. The doctors could not find out why he refused to wake up. There was no brain damage, no previous health problems. He was just asleep. A-Die is like that too. They had trouble waking him up, and now his appetite was non-existent.

That broke him.

He couldn't see him go down the same path as Senior. He was the one lifeline he had against, the vicious rumors that sprouted. Cursed child.

He left for that reason.

His parents died trying to get home quick to surprise him. A-Die and Senior are now dying because Guangyao called their spirits back and the only way to save them is to put the Yiling Patriarch and Hanguang-jun to rest. The doors open and the few candles that Guangyao lit flicker off, one by one. Sizhui follows Guangyao's lead as he plays Clarity. He did not understand what was happening, but he could feel the coaxing influence as Guangyao directed the energy to circle around them.

"My, my Lianfang-zun, you're still here? I would have thought you'd have wasted away," joked Wei Wuxian as he walked through the door. He wasn't alone. Behind him were scores of fierce corpses in faded blue and white robes marred with dirt and blood. They stood there as if in attention.

It became apparent why, when the Stygian Tiger Seal is pulled from his sleeves, floating in his hands.

"If I recall correctly, I wounded you."

"Yet here I am."

"Yes, very interesting. Anyway's give me back the Wangji. That Guqin doesn't belong to you." All this time Sizhui hadn't stopped playing as instructed, but felt nervous. The Guqin, called Wangji, trembled in Sizhui's hand. He didn't see how this could be a weapon, but right now he had no choice but to trust Guangyao. He played the notes on and on, concentrating on the music, trying to listen to the scene happening before him.

"Wei Wuxian, you know that it's time to stop."

"Time to stop? Funny, the time to stop should have been when I gave myself and the Stygian Tiger Seal up, the time to stop was when we locked ourselves up in Burial Mounds, the time to stop would have been after the war when the Wen's gave up. But you didn’t, did you?" He plays a harsh note and sends a red and black energy towards them.

The sound of Clarity encircling them dissipated the attack.

"Oh, and I guess you learned some new tricks? Then again, you always were so good at twisting something so good for your benefit weren't you?" Guangyao growled as he prepared to send an attack only to stop when the Yiling Patriarch moves to the side.

Lan Xichen was supposed to be in the Hanshi. Yet here he was floating, held by the dark resentful energy that the Yiling Patriarch exuded.

Lan Xichen dropped to the floor, shoulders slumped.

"And here is the other culprit."

Guangyao stilled. With a quick movement, he motioned for Sizhui to be ready to be on the offensive.

"Seriously dabaizi, how naïve could you be. Oh, wait you weren't, you were just willfully ignorant. You know Sang-Gongzi was kind enough to tell me how many times Dage tried to warn you about Jin Guangyao? He's a liar. You can't trust him outright. He's up to something. And what did you do?" He lifts the other man's chin up.

"You gave him the very thing he needed to kill him. Your action allowed him to pin the blame on the surviving Wen's and kill them. Tell me, why were you allowed to mourn for A-Yuan when your actions had a hand in killing him." He could not see an expression from Zewu-jun, but Sizhui could see the tears.

"Tell me Guangyao, will you be willing to save Zewu-jun or will you let him die just like Sect Leader Nie?" The horde of fierce corpse's ran in and Guangyao’s forced to work double time. On one end he played Liebling to continue the surrounding shield, on the other he helped Sizhui to direct the attacks to the fierce corpses.

If they had more time. More chances to work together, their teamwork would have been possible.

It failed as a demon corpse plunged a blade into Lan Xichen's back. His body dropped.

"No!" Guangyao ran hoping to catch Zewu-jun as Sizhui let out one last attack, pushing back the fierce corpse's back. It broke the connection. Red eyes narrowed in irritation.

Guangyao held Lan Xichen's body as he wept in agony, trying to stop the blood. It seeped his beautiful white robes.

"Zewu-jun! Zewu-jun! Xichen!" Cried out Guangyao, his voice breaking in pain. Sizhui allowed himself to become distracted, not realizing that the Yiling Patriarch was right next to him. He stood up in fear only to feel him ram his hand to his chest.

It was odd as he looked down. There was no blood, in fact it didn't go through his chest, but he noticed a red energy where the hand went through. It wasn't until he felt a squeeze to his heart that he realized the terrible implication.

"I don't know how you broke the connection. A lucky strike, perhaps? It matters not, why don't you make your last amends, eh?" He squeezes his heart and Sizhui could only scream in pain. His mind blacks out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "I can't-" "You should take him. He see's you as his father" "..." "A-Die! A-Die!" "A-Yuan! How is my little turnip!" Sizhui can feel himself carried and as he squeals into the air. A-Die is so fun! Alway's burying him in dirt to make him grow like the turnip he is, taking him to the market and let him play with the toys. Although he never bought him any, he never thought to beg him to buy it. He's thrown up in the air, enjoying the excitement. He could hear Wen Qing chiding him and uncle Wen Ning moving around to make sure he didn't fall. No worries. A-Die will always protect him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Yiling Patriarch let's go as Sizhui falls back gasping for air. He didn't believe Guangyao's remark, but he could feel A-Yuan's feelings and how safe he felt. Tears fell from his eyes as he tried to get ahold of the turbulent emotions within.

"A-Yuan? A-Yuan is that you?" Sizhui looks up and see's the man in utter happiness. He looked so young, so joyful. Like he had committed no atrocities in his life. He tries to back away, but frozen from the frenzied look of Wei Wuxian. The man hugs him, his shoulder becoming damp with tears.

"A-Yuan! You're back, you're finally back! Please tell me you're here to stay. I'll protect you. This time I'll protect you from anyone that wants to harm you! No one will hurt you here. I promise! We'll stay in the Gentian House, plant potatoes and radishes, I'll play the Chenquing for you, no nightmares. Maybe if I'm in a pleasant mood, if I can trust him, I can let that man play on his Wangji. Stupid man, naming it after himself, ha, ha, ha!" With each word the Yiling Patriarch hugged him harder and harder, his nails digging into him deeper and deeper to his sides.

He tried to push him back, but he just refused to let go. It was becoming harder to breathe. The sound of the iron chain was the only warning they had before the Patriarch pushed him away.

"Wen Ning... why are you stopping me? I get it now, why you did what you had to do. You knew he was little A-Yuan, but now you're trying to take him away from me? Why?"

"Because A-Yuan died and moved on!" All occupants looked back to see Wen Qing, holding a red and white urn, the same one he saw in Gentian House, standing by the doors.

"He's A-Yuan reincarnated, but he's not our A-Yuan anymore. Wei Wuxian let it go. It's okay. You did your best." Wei Wuxian shakes his head in anger.

"No, no, no! It wasn't my best. I trusted the wrong people! I thought I was doing the right thing. I had the best intentions, and you died, granny, uncle four, everyone died. A-Yuan died!" He makes way to grab A-Yuan only for Wen Ning to get in the way. Hanguang appears and sensing Wei Wuxian's intention runs to grab Sizhui, but the extensive range of the Ghost General's chain cuts him off.

He does a sweeping arc to the two men, who’re forced to step back. Lan Wangji however changes his momentum forward when the chain passed by him, intent to accomplish the new goal.

Sizhui grabs Guqin and plays more notes, remembering how Guangyao guided him. He plucked the strings towards Hanguang-Jun. It wasn't strong, but it caught him off guard. He picks up the instrument and runs towards Guangyao and to pull him away from this place.

They failed, but they can come back and make an alternative plan! Something that'll free his guardians, free the spirits!

He forgot how fast Hanguang-Jun could be when he appeared by his side and used his long legs to trip him. His face smacked against the floor and he’s forced down when a foot pushed into his back. The Guqin landed far from him. Guangyao was not idle, though, as he pulled his blade out.

"Get Zewu-jun out of here!" Sizhui nods as he attempts to pick up the body. He didn't know if Guangyao noticed or just ignored it, but already Sizhui could tell his body had lost its warmth.

Sizhui attempts to move the man's body, but he was tall and he had trouble moving him. He looked to Wen Qing to help him, but she just stood there.

"Wen Qing! Help!" But she shook her head.

A misstep happens as the chaotic resentful energy acts up and crackles in the air. It nearly hits Sizhui, which causes the Ghost General to change tactics and steps in to protect him and Zewu-jun’s body.

The negative energy pours into Wen Ning, who lets out a howling growl. Seeing Sizhui endangered Wen Qing is quick to throw the urn passing through him. He shivered, cold and confused. Why did she pass through him? Wasn't she a fierce corpse? Was she a ghost?

He hears a scream and turns to see Hanguang-jun cut the Ghost General into pieces.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Lan-er-gege! You can't be mad! I've called your name so many times." "Shameless." The innocent sound of laughter is heard in the air of the Library Pavilion. Lan Wangji lips tilt in a smile. He hides it before Wei Wuxian catches sight of it.

***********

The Wen's took so much and now Lan Wangji’s left to wander with Wei Wuxian’s brother to look for him. He could only hope they weren't too late.

*********** "Stop following the demonic path," he laughs, surprising the occupants in the room. "Ah Hanguang-jun, right? You have no right to tell me anything. This is Jiang Sect's business." Lan Wangji leaves confused. What happened to him?

*********** "Lan Er-ge-ge, thank you for playing for me." Lan Wangji smiles and thinks everything would be okay.

************ It wasn't okay. It stopped being okay, and he didn't know what to do. "Wei Wuxian." "Did you forget what we promised? What's right and what's wrong?" That promise, they promised to protect the weak.

************ He'll protect them. He'll uphold his promise like he should have when We Wuxian first left. "Come to Gusu with me." "I can't. What will happen to the Wen's? You know that the other Sects want them dead." "I can talk to brother." "I- I…" "Please Wei Wuxian come to Gusu. I will talk to brother. The Wen's will be safe. A-Yuan will be safe." "Can you promise me that?" "Mn." He will make the promise again if it gives him the chance to protect him and the others when he should have.

*********** "A-xian. I love you." He murmurs as he held him close. They couldn't bring A-Yuan yet, seeing as the Lan was in discussion with the Jin Sect about this. It should be fine though, as his brother promised to see things through. "Ah, Lan-er gege! Warn me when you tell me things like this," giggles his love. He looked better now. His face didn't look as pale, and though he found out his golden core’s gone, it still wasn't impeding his recovery. "Mn." "Lan-er gege, take responsibility and hug me." He does, and so much more. This moment and all other moments would become so precious to him.

*********** "You promised me!" "Wei-" "You promised me they would be okay! AND NOW THEY'RE DEAD!" "Please, listen!" How could it all go wrong?! The Wen's killing Nie Mingjue. He still couldn't understand how such a thing could happen, but all evidence pointed towards them. "I'M DONE LISTENING! I'M DONE! WHY DID I EVER LISTEN TO YOU! I SHOULD HAVE STAYED AT THE BURIAL MOUNDS! At least-" He sobs and he could only watch in pain. "At least-AT LEAST THEY WOULD BE ALIVE. WEN QING... WEN NING... A-... A-YUAN!"

********* They found A-Yuan, hidden by the tree trunk and sneaked him back here. They were too late, and they prepared a private funeral. The elders however had stipulations. "Never! His outbursts are too dangerous. Did you not see the resentful energy around him! It would only agitate the boy's spirit. It's sad that we were too late to save him from the fever, but we cannot allow him to partake in the mourning ceremony! The poor boy's soul would be endangered." Lan Wangji stood outside as he heard Wei Wuxian wail in agony. He wouldn't even answer his calls. He stood there, like he did when he was younger for his mother, but now for his A-Xian.

********* "Did you hear? The Jin Sect is cursed. Many of the main family are dead. The young madam had to move back home to protect the heir. How sad that her husband did not survive. Some say he had a hole in his ribs." He ignored the rumors, when all he cared about was whether his love would open the doors. He sat there on his knees, waiting. Waiting. He never noticed when the Stygian Tiger Seal flew into one of the opened windows.

********** Jin Guangyao arrived, claiming that Wei Wuxian stole the Stygian Tiger Seal. Lan Wangji didn't care.

********** Lan Wangji can only watch in despair as the Gentian House, the home of his late mother and now of his love, surrounded by resentful energy. The others begged him to move, to stop the Yiling Patriarch, but he knew he couldn't. He didn't trust him. Wouldn't open the door. He didn't even want to talk to him anymore. He lost that right when he could not protect the Wens. 'If I gave you my life.' He thought as he stood there ignoring his brother's call. 'If I gave myself to the curse, would you please look at me? Just once more.' Tears slid down his face, his throat closing up. 'Please look at me once more.' Jin Guangyao had to pull Lan Xichen away as he watched his brother give himself up to the Yiling Patriarch's curse.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"GET OUT OF HERE!" Hanguang-jun stood still, surprised that Wei Wuxian was looking at him.

"YOU DID IT AGAIN! GET OUT OF HERE!" Without a word he leaves, but not before grabbing his Guqin, Wangji. The Yiling Patriarch surveyed the area, ignoring the longing look from Hanguang jun.

The ashes were scattered across the floor as Wen Qing held her brother's corpse cut into pieces. She wept as Wei Wuxian landed on his knees.

"Wen Qing," he sobs. "Qing. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He kowtows before her. Wen Qing grabs his arm and shakes her head.

"It's okay. We've suffered enough, you've suffered enough. Let it go, it's time to rest," she utters as a golden light circles around her. Wei Wuxian could only cry as she disappears.

Both Sizhui and Guangyao leave with Xichen, allowing the Yiling Patriarch to mourn.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They arrived to the Hanshi in a somber mood.

They didn't succeed and Zewu-jun, who somehow lived all this time, was finally dead.

He was still curious how such a feat was possible, but Sizhui didn't even had the energy to sate his curiosity. The latest visions left a sour and bitter taste to his mouth. So much good intentions and it all lead to this hell.

Jin Guangyao fell. He waves off Sizhui.

"Go take him to his bed. I'll- I'll sit here and then join you for a bit." Sizhui nods and proceeds past the partition.

Odd that he never really walked passed here. Then again, he was never invited to the private room and with Lan Xichen mourning... it really wouldn't be appropriate.

He steps in and takes in the sight. The place was tidy. The books were in their place. A broken Guqin rested in one corner of the room with blood on its strings. It must have been Guangyao's as he remembered the conversation from earlier. The event must have been bad since it stained the wood.

Sizhui turns and finds a sight that should have terrified him, but after tonight's events he felt numbed. There on the bed was a dried up corpse. He wore the same clothes as Jin Guangyao but where the peony emblem should be, was nothing more than a hole, dried blood staining the fabric.

Jin Guangyao was a ghost too, huh? Odd how he felt real to the touch. Then again, so did Wen Qing. He wondered how that was possible, when she just passed by him, except for the urn holding the ashes. Were those her ashes?

He settles the last master of Gusu Lan to the bed, next to Jin Guangyao. Funny that Zewu-jun looked like he was sleeping peacefully. He wonders what his visions would have been. Did he and Guangyao share tea in this room? What was the relationship between him and his brother to fully entrust the safety of the now deceased Wens? He must have been a man of great integrity to have everyone trust him undisputedly.

He walks out of the room ready to face Guangyao's ghost, only to see the Yiling Patriarch standing over the fallen form of Guangyao.

"Stay away-" He stops short when he sees a sight for sore eyes. On the floor wearing Guangyao's clothes was his missing cousin, Jin Ling.

"This makes little sense."

"It does to me. I knew I killed him, I was just confused about how he could wield Liebling. After all, ghosts have no corporeal forms, so for them to hold on to anything they would need a relative or someone with a weak spiritual constitution to possess. Let me take a crack at it. A Jin? He has the same haughty look that all Jin's carry." Sizhui stood still, ready to grab his cousin to safety.

Wei Wuxian smirks.

"Don't worry, no more blood will be spilt. We have enough tragedies as it is. Question though. You are Lan, but you're not bound here. You could have left anytime you wanted. Especially when you found this one, so why are you still here?" Sizhui clears his throat.

"I can't leave till I free my A-Die and Senior. You have their souls"

"Let me guess. Guangyao? Here's the truth. He lied. Go ho-"

"You have their soul's! Their names are Lan Zhan and Wei Ying. Your laugh sounds almost like his if it didn't sound cynical and Hanguang-jun," he pauses. Unsure to tell him about the visions. "He is just as intimidating." Wei Wuxian laughs.

"Well, it makes sense why I felt out of it. It's only till recently that I feel coherent." He walks around the room taking in the sight and stops.

"You know that empathy can go two ways, right? It's hard for those that start off in the beginning, but once you get the hang of it, it becomes easier to look at the other side." He see's Sizhui's face and laughs.

"You know the visions you had. Tell me why did you run away?" It stuns Sizhui. did he know, no wait what did he know? Lying wouldn't get him anywhere, so he might as well be truthful.

"I'm cursed, or at least that's what other's say. My parents died when I was five and A-Die and Senior Wei took me in. After a while Senior Wei fell ill, with A-Die following along after that."

"Hm... and you thought running away would help?" Sizhui feels ashamed for the first time since he ran. Why did a man who placed a cursed, who almost killed him, wanted to kidnap him, now appeared to be admonishing him as if he did nothing wrong in his life? His mood was all over the place.

"Look kid you had good intentions right? Follow my advice, then. Running won't do you any good, it'll just make things more complicated. I ran instead of talking to others, confiding to others, and look where it took me." He gives him a grin, eyes appearing to water. "How about you go home and let those that love you help?"

"But the curs-"

"I'll take care of it. After all your what 15?"

"I'm 17!" He laughs lightly, painfully reminding him of Senior Wei.

"Take your friend home and leave. By the time you are walking down the mountain, we should break the curse. I just need to collect someone to help me."

"And you could have done this all this time." The devil may care smirk seemed to be a favorite face that Wei Wuxian loved to wear.

"Rule number one of a curse maker. Always know how to break said curse." He walks away, heading down the path that lead to the library. Sizhui wastes no time and wakes up Jin Ling.

"What the hell am I wearing?" As he takes it off, revealing his shirt and pants underneath. Sizhui finds his shoes and jacket in the closet, mindful to keep Jin Ling out of the room with the two dead occupants. No way would he be able to calm Jin Ling.

Leaving no room for argument or questions, he pushes his cousin out of Hanshi and down the path that would take them down the mountain. Along the way, they met Jingyi and Zhizhen.

He answered their questions the best he could without revealing the horrors he faced. It was especially helpful when Jin Ling could not recall what happened at all. He saw Jin Ling look at him suspiciously, but figured he would explain to him at a later date. Now though was the time to leave this damn mountain.

Zhizhen was the first to hear the distant sounds of Dizi and Guqin playing.

"Wow, that sounds beautiful! Hey, are those fireflies?" The group looked around as orbs of light floated the night sky. Sizhui could feel it. They broke the curse.

Thank Jingyi who did not believe they were fireflies and urged them down the mountain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The tow truck came and took them to Moling, where they called their Jin Ling's uncle Jiu'jiu'-Cheng. They could hear him threaten to break his legs if they moved from the spot.

Apparently the boys didn't ask or tell anyone they left to pick him up. He could only imagine how Jiu'jiu'-Cheng would react with him. He was always cautious about how he interacted with him, treating him like he was some porcelain doll. He didn't think that would last long after his latest stunt, though.

The next day, after a vigorous shower and thorough checkup, the injuries he had horrified his friends. He went to the hospital. The place was busy, but not as much as the one coming from his parents' rooms. Nurses were coming in and out, getting things and chit-chatting in excitement.

"What's going on?" he asked gu'gu'-li. Jin Ling's mother Jiang Yanli smiled, the joy reaching her eyes.

"Why don't you see?"

Lan Sizhui walked up to the room. It was a lot to take in.

Last time he was in this room Lan Zhan would just not move. Jiang Cheng, Wei Ying's brother, had to always come in and forcefully move him. Didn't work for long, as he always returned, until he could no longer move. He came to occupy the bed next to his beloved. He stopped coming in after that.

'That goes to show how much he loves Senior Wei.' He thought mournfully.

He didn't know what he was expecting, but the moment he came in heard the rustling of the bed. It's been so long since he saw those grey eyes filled with mischief and glee. Tears erupted from his eyes.

"Well, there's our little rabbit." Commented Wei Ying, laying back comfortably on the pillow, his voice hoarse from disuse. He held back his gasp with a choke, foot pace quickening as he went to hug him. He felt so frail, and if he hugged him any tighter, he was sure to break him.

The sob came out, but he didn't care. He wasn't embarrassed, he just wanted to make sure that this moment was real. That the nightmares from Gusu manor were long gone. Senior Wei, he wasn't cold; he wasn't menacing and most of all broken. He was here alive! Living, breathing, and so warm. It was just so hard to let go. But he did when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked back and seeing those tired golden eyes.

"A-Die." His father turned him around.

"I'm sorry." Why was A-Die sorry? He didn't have to apologize. He was heartbroken. Lan Sizhui knew how much A-Die loves Senior Wei.

"Ah Lan Zhan, take responsibility and hug our little rabbit. Don't you see how worried he must have been." Lan Zhan agrees and hugs him tight. Lan Sizhui's eyes widened, then softened as he returned the hug.

"Don't worry about it. I know how much it hurt."

They stayed at the hospital room the entire day, reminiscing about the past and planning for the future. Jin Ling and the other's would join along. Almost caused them to be expelled, only to be kicked out when Jiu'jiu'-Cheng threatened to break his legs for his stunt. Running away had now permanently put him on the same list as Jin Ling, which said cousin cackled. Traitor.

Needless to say, Senior Wei forced him to stay the night to keep his adorable rabbit and show him all the love in the world.

Sizhui was okay with that as he slept on the couch happily. He was ready to welcome the many more days to come.

#mdzs #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #the untamed #MDZS au #the untamed au #mo dao zu shi #mo dao zu shi au #Lan Sizhui #Jin Guangyao #wangxian #angst #horror #thriller #cursed child au #I fucking apologize about the cursed text! Never again!

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lordxgrinnyxboy · 4 years ago

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rewatching tgm, wifi being useless edition 2/?

every time i hear puppet!Dea say “when a story is raw and real” i see Mr. Gordon Ramsey memes, they just scroll across my vision and there’s nothing i can do to stop it u-u

ngl im kinda in love with Mojo Puppeteer

the foot shimmy during this scene, like right as Ursus gets up off the floor Gwyn/Mr. Maskell does this little ankle squirm. u-u

foreaaaaaaaaaarmmmmssssss

love how mr maskell doesn't emote w/his face while puppeteering but ms. brisson's just facially so into this performance and honestly so's ms. onitiri

also love all the different bits of ribbon and such puppet!Dea’s hair is made of. several different textures in there

kay but the way he makes the prince puppet kinda bounce in place as he sings “only those three words could ever free me from the curse” it just makes it look like the prince is kindof adorably excited about this

im just now realizing that one part of the puppet is supposed to be the prince’s mouth and not his chin or something.

Dea’s soft “oh” when their hands touch

foreaaaaaarmsssss

Gwynlit always looks so shook as they step back from each other after the aging up sequence like he’s full dear-in-headlights (i know it’s ‘deer’ in headlights but he is Dear to Me so)

and really so is Dea for a second there

oh god her look of alarm changes to a smile the second Gwyn starts singing. i need a minute.

i love these two so much

the harmony will never not end my life why is it so powerful

idk what they put in this song but every single time my aroace self is like “shfjshfsj play this at my wedding” and then i have to be like “wait.”

Dea’s adorable and i hope she knows how adorable she is

im cry they’re so cute they’re so cute i love these two

Quake is on it about letting ppl know entertainment’s cancelled due to the king dying Quake is ready Quake loves her job so much

oh so the barrels are just there for Dirry-Moir and Osric to have somewhere to sit while Ursus tells the story okay

wait how quick did dude just throw on his Clarence costume and climb in the coffin that was. super duper fast

he’s literally offscreen for 24 seconds and managed to

holy cats how does he do it

wait also mojo tho. mojo had to put on his priest costume

wait also Osric and Dirry-Moir had to put on their Lord attire

and they say movies are supposed to be magic

just continuing to absolutely love every character played by ms. obianyo

love how they just. have trombones. 10/10

i mean i guess the costume changes aren’t super complicated like throw on a robe and a wig but STILL within 24 seconds? i think it’s impressive

oh hey jojo-as-a-random-lord is also here

ohhhhh is that why Jojo’s costume is Like That then? to make it easier to switch characters real fast? but no actually???

the hats on the lords tho. we’ve got Fish Lord, Bunny Lord,,, maybe some kind of Bird or Chicken Lord...

so it’s a Pig’s Foot that killed Clarence and the name of the holy relic translates to like, “pig’s flower” ...thematic....dots.......

oop there’s Only a Clown

ngl i kinda love Archbishop Kupsak. a weird dude.

would love to know why Angelica thought she needed to ��make a law’ regarding traitors being brought to justice. just curious about her thought-process. heck she could probably have her own musical.

WAIT MS OBIANYO PLAYS THE TROMBONE. SICK.

wait hey, hey. hey. petition for ms. obianyo to play a FATE.

oh god it’s my least favorite scene

skip? no...but? no u-u

jojo apologize to the trash clown

scene too stressful

genuinely have no thoughts, head completely empty

CART SCENE CART SCENE CART SCENE

is that a bowl and spoon on th-

separate post separate post gentlefolks of the jury i

jaw twitch

okay but Dea gets this Look when Gwyn asks Ursus “who did this to me” she looks a little Surprised

does not react however to “who carved me into this freak”

the hand flex as Gwyn walks away from Ursus after Ursus Won’t Let Him Talk

oh Osric you absolute delight

beauty and the beast ii destroys me every time gwyn’s just steadily wilting but trying to hold on but he can’t and Dea’s so supportive

would love to know what Ursus’ take on all this would’ve been if he hadn’t been involved. like would he still be hell-bent on not letting Gwyn remember or would he have been more chill about letting Gwyn make that decision for himself

like on the one hand i can see why Ursus would think that maybe Gwyn would be better off not remembering, but also making him forget clearly didn’t actually help him suffer any less, it just gave him a different kind of suffering. He’s wrung-out tormented and Ursus can’t/won’t help him because of the potential repercussions of Gwyn learning the truth. which do include some Worst Timeline options for how that could go but. also include a few Gwyn’s Able To Move On And Live Well, With Or Without Ursus options so.

idk i just feel like after a certain point of seeing how Gwyn’s basically falling apart over all this Ursus really should’ve considered having that difficult Discussion bc that boy was Not getting better on Ursus’ Plan A

also the whole dismissively invalidating ur kid’s struggle is not a good look Ursus

i love him and absolutely believe he is definitely Trying His Best but he’s #Problematic_Dad for sure

that bit where Ursus notices Josiana as if for the first time and does that little bow to her oh my goodness XD

also him just trying so hard to keep it together in the lead-up to Born Broken. debating whether Ursus sticking his head through the curtain is the funniest part of this show. probably not but it’s real close

Dea’s so pretty and i love her outfit u-u

and her blue makeup

and her lovely lovely eyes like wow she’s Perfect

this girl is in her element and im fully convinced that in the version of events where Gwyn and Dea stay on as Lord and Lady Dea does some addressing of parliament or whatever, has speaking engagements, she’s all kinds of involved.

there’s tears in Ursus’ eyes during this bit and i don’t agree w/him but i do feel bad for him. he does want to do right by these kids but he’s just...it’s not working out for him because he can’t have it both ways.

i mean genuinely tho Ursus is so desperate to forget/bury/escape/move on from the past but in adopting Gwyn and trying to be a family and a fresh start for him...that shut down any chance of that actually happening.

no but fr Ursus’ face when Dea says “it doesn’t keep us safe, Father, it turns us against you” which is like. probably the exact thing he’s afraid of happening if they ever learn the truth.

*strums lyre* it’s a sad tale, it’s a tragedy!

Musical Ursus is fully a good dude who did one Stupid Thing and spent the rest of his life trying to control the damage only to make it Worse and then he died and i’m so! 😭

at the end of the second 30minutes but im keep going

Dea and Gwyn are holding hands so intently im feeling feelings about

harmonyyyyyyyy

ngl though i wonder if given Ursus’ “dear god, you pick your moments” and “who did what to you” if maybe this is something that’s just been festering and hasn’t been verbally brought up until the show’s events

“What do you want?! BLOOD?!” i mean u did script him as saying he wants to kill a man

“I can’t tell you anything you don’t already know” i mean technically that’s true bc technically Gwyn does know, he just doesn’t remember, which is pretty much the same as not knowing but ayyyyyyyyyy

would love to know what Ursus thought was coming when Gwyn said “I can only tell them what I know I am” like

wait no but “I can’t tell you anything you don’t already know” being followed by “I can only tell them what I know I am” idk how to say but oh heck oh heck oh heck heck oh no.

but yeah Ursus’ little glances at Gwyn and then the Turn as Gwyn starts to sing. i just wonder what Ursus is thinking just then

ohhhhhhhhh wait a minute now. stars stripped from the sky. the play on the lyrics from within Ursus’ show. the conversation they just had. is Freak Show (partially?) a vaguepost at Ursus 👀

no but the Wiggle before that next to last “watch me smile” tho

needs the backbend 🍹

hello Puppet Helmet Thing. i’ve developed a fondness for you, you unexplained and kind of weird yet near-infinitely interpretable element of the show.

and cutting here for length uwu

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years ago

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Getaway

This is for a request made @sathlens I hope that you like it <3 Please let me know what you guys think in the reblogs/comments! 💜

Warnings: noncon sex (oral and intercourse). This is dark!(nomad)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader is away on vacation and finds something, or someone, in the woods.

Note: So in my head, to make this work, after Civil War, Steve’s kinda running around on his own. He was on a mission and got separated from the team. He’s found himself in the middle of nowhere but no alone.

Anyways, hope you all enjoy some scurry Steve and let me know what you think as always. Love ya <3

---

It had been a few years since your last real vacation. Well ever, because who could really count that disastrous road trip as a vacation. Time away from it all; stress, work, your boyfriend. You loved him but you didn’t realize how much you needed time to just be you. A girl’s week on the northern shores was nothing to complain about and you were ready to take full advantage of the serenity. The isolation.

You deposited your cars at the docks and climbed aboard the small boat, crammed in with the luggage of four other girls, plus the girls themselves. It was Kaya’s family cottage, concealed by thick pine, aspens, and spectrum of fragrant foliage. After hours of driving, the sun was well into its descent and it was a race against daylight before the pearly ripples turning dark and foreboding.

You watched the shoreline come into sight. A small dock where you could see yourself sunbathing, a carpet of twigs and dirt turned to grass the further you ascended, the wooden deck that fronted the cottage peeked out from between the crowd of trees. A small stream trickled away from the dock; a small finger off the greater lake. You smelled the purity; the unfiltered wild. It was refreshing after the filth of the city.

After you docked, it took a couple trips up and down the trail to unload all the bags, and the two large coolers of assorted goodies. One was filled with all varieties of alcohol with more stored warm in a box. The other contained the more important staples; bacon, sausages, tofu, milk, eggs. Enough to feed your small army until another boat trip was made to the closest town.

Kaya claimed the master bedroom; your sister, Gia, and you shared the bunk beds across from those occupied by Camile and Milani, while Coretta took the fold-out sofa. All were situated by nightfall and cans were opened as sausages grilled on the stove. With the generator awaking from its seasonal sleep and the cabin groaning in welcome, you settled in for a late night of cards and rowdiness.

The first morning greeted you in a golden dawn. You drank your coffee on the dock and spent most of daylight reading a book in the sun. The hours were punctuated by empty cans and drained bottles. You fed your buzz enough to relax and lose yourself in the natural lull of the lake. After dinner, you tried your hand at fishing and after an accidental dunk into the stream, you returned with the other girls to the cabin. Drinking games to end the night; one in which you did not reach your bunk, awaking at the table in shame.

The next day, the rest of the girls wanted a trip to the waterfall. The thought was enticing but your stomach grumbled from your previous day’s excess and you hoped the painkillers would help ease your hangover. You had several more days at the retreat, you could go tomorrow. You helped clean the dishes from breakfast and bid the girls farewell as they boarded the boat for the opposite shore.

A day alone would be nice. You had never minded solitude. In fact, you had hoped for it. The idea of being trapped in a small cabin with half a dozen others had been intimidating. You had trouble enough with just your boyfriend in your cell-like apartment. You watched them roar across the lake, the engine fading to a distant whir until the noises of birds and critters were the only left. You hung your legs off the dock as you dipped your toes into the water and basked in the ambiance. The soft ripples eased the stone set in your forehead.

You pulled your feet up after a while and went to grab your book from the kitchen table. You changed into your bathing suit and grabbed your sunscreen. The sun was strong today. You opened a can of cider and sat in the low deck chair as you opened the novel and delved into fantasy. A sword shining in the dark; a gloom most sinister on the rise.

The water and summer breeze mixed to lend a calming vibrance to the dock. You eased deeper into the chair and listened to the occasional flick of a fish’s tail as it ventured close to the surface. You sighed and rested your book across your chest as you leaned your head back. It had been what, an hour since they left. You loved how time seemed to slow down here. How you could just be; not think.

Your eyes popped open as you heard a distant rustle in the trees. You shrugged and set aside your book to sip on your cider. You had seen a deer earlier that day, some other critters hung around when they thought no one was looking. Near the outhouse, you had even thought you saw wildcat. Kaya said it was possible but not likely.

Another rustle. The snap of a twig. You drained half your tall boy and peered around your chair up into the trees. Whatever it was, it would scare itself away. You stood and stretched in the sunlight. You went to the edge of the dock and onto the large flat rocks that led to the water. You dipped down into the shallows and squeaked at the chill. Your body attuned to the temperature and you ducked your head under, rising with a gasp. It was nice. Revitalizing. Your headache started to slake away.

You heard the jostle of leaves and again glanced towards the forest. It did sound so much like there were footsteps out there. You tried to laugh at yourself but the shiver that went up your spine kept your self-deprivation at bay. You made your way back to the rocks and climbed up on the dock. You took the towel from the back of your chair and rubbed your hair and body as dry as you could. You let the towel fall across the arm of the chair and slipped on your sandals as you followed what you were certain weren’t footsteps. There was no one else here. You were alone. Of that you were sure. There was no way anyone else could have stumbled upon this little hideaway.

You didn’t bother calling out. You were quite convinced it was only a confused deer. Or an overly zealous rabbit. You walked up past the outhouses and the noise stopped. You exhaled but stared through the trees. You were still curious about what had caused such a ruckus. You saw no sign of flight. The sound had just died. It was almost eerie.

Assure yourself it was nothing and you could return to your book. You sighed at yourself and wandered into the brush. A chipmunk here, a woodpecker above, several other avian calls through the trees. You glanced around at nothing more than leaves and bark. You were definitely psyching yourself out. You finally laughed and turned back.

You cried out in surprise at the figure that waited behind you. Your yelp was smothered as his hand went over your mouth and he saved you from falling out of your sandals. You pushed against the tall man in your terror and confusion. He pressed his palm tighter to your lips and you silenced your murmurs as he shushed. He held you against him, his dark clothing rough against your bare stomach.

“Quiet,” He warned gruffly and carefully removed pressure from his palm.

He watched you as he lowered his hand and you stared up at him with wide eyes. Even if you screamed, it would be muffled by the branches above and none were anywhere close enough to hear. He released you and stepped back. He leaned against a tree and wiped the blood from the corner of his lips. As you got a good look at him, you realized he was injured. A man of poorer stature would not be standing.

He pushed himself straight and growled as he examined the blood on his fingertips. It was dry; flecks scratched from his flesh. His wounds were at least a few hours old. You hoped that meant they had not been dealt near here. He reached out and grabbed your shoulder firmly. Your body went stiff as he guided you past him, back in the direction you had come.

“You have a place around here,” He said. His tone was steely, his fingers left your skin tender as he rescinded his hand. “Show me.”

“How did you get here?” You asked as you wove along the path, past the outhouses and towards the back steps.

“No questions,” He retorted, “Are there others here?”

“No,” You answered, uncertain. “Well, not right now. They’re at the waterfall. Across the lake...they’ll be back soon.”

“Will they?” He sounded doubtful at your last-minute addition. “It’s barely noon. I’m sure they’ll want to enjoy the sun.”

You swallowed and remained silent. He wasn’t going to answer your questions; only discern your lies. He marched you up the steps and you opened the screen door. He caught it behind you and followed you inside.

“Any weapon?” He nudged you against the counter as he looked around. “I’ll find them and I can promise you, I can wield them better than you.”

“Just a flare gun…” Kaya’s family weren’t the hunting types. The most dangerous possession they had were fishing knives and those were down in the shed. “Just beside the fireplace in the next room.”

He nodded and pushed past you. He opened and closed each drawer. He huffed and neared the round table. A few half-empty cans remained from the night before and the deck of cards in a crooked pile. He pulled out a chair and sat heavily.

His dirty blonde hair hung in sweaty knots around his face, his thick beard a shade darker. His narrow blue eyes shone beneath long lashes as they never stopped searching. He wore a dark blue uniform; some sort of combat suit. A harness stretched across his broad chest and the belt around his waist was lined with several pouches. His boots were worn and covered in grime and what looked to be even more blood. There was more crimson along his shoulders, small cuts along the corner of his lips and top of his forehead. You could guess that he had won the fight, even if he had taken a few blows himself.

“Well, you got a first aid kit or something?” He asked as he planted his elbow on the table. “Something stronger than…” He lifted an empty canned cocktail and eyed the label, “Whatever this is.”

“In there,” You pointed to the cooler by the door. “The kit is just…” You moved slowly, afraid that you might provoke him. When he had grabbed you in the woods, you had felt his strength. Even in his state, he could easily overpower you. “Over here.”

You crossed to the table just inside the living room; the space divided by the change in flooring. He watched as you opened the slatted door beneath and pulled out the metal box. It looked to be right out of the seventies. It must have been as old as the cabin. The man stood as you set the kit on the table and he kicked open the cooler. He bent and grabbed the bottle of gin you hadn’t yet uncorked. He resumed his seat and placed the bottle down beside him.

He dragged the box over to him and undid the metal clasp. He stirred through the contents and pulled out gauze and the small bottle of peroxide. Then he fished around for a spool and a curved needle. They looked like they’d never been used. That was reassuring. He shifted in his chair and pulled off his fingerless gloves. Next he pointedly loosed the buckles of his harness and slipped it past his arms with a pained grunt. He piled each piece on the tabletop between the cans and the open first aid kit.

You began to back away as he tugged at the hem of his shirt and he paused. He looked up at you and shook his head. He kicked another chair towards you, “Sit.” Your throat contracted and you obeyed. Despite the hot air trapped beneath the sun-cooked roof of the cabin, you felt ice in your veins.

You sat and he finished stripping himself of the sweat-stained shirt. His chest and torso were laced with thick muscles, his right shoulder gashed and bloody. You watched his bulging arms as he reached over to grab the gauze and peroxide. You had never scene a man in such peak condition. Not outside the television screen. The power which lay in his form kept you from admiration. It was more intimidation.

You watched as he cleaned his wound. He hissed through gritted teeth as he touched his tender flesh and blood flaked away. He dumped the reddened gauze on the table. He unscrewed the cap of the gin and drank heavily before he reached for the needle. He sterilized the metal in peroxide before he began the agonizing work. You wanted to look away but you didn’t want to seem weaker than you so obviously were. The only sign of his discomfort was the tic in his jaw.

Time dragged by as he wove the stitches. He glanced up at you when he finished, his brow lifted and he tilted his head. He was surprised that you hadn’t looked away. Then you did. You didn’t like the weight of his eyes on you. There was something behind them. The crystal-like irises could not disguise the darkness beneath. This man had been good once but now...something had corrupted him.

You listened as he cleaned the needle and wound up the thread. He packed it up with the unused gauze and closed the box with a click. The gin swished as he lifted the bottle and swigged. You kept your gaze averted until a speck entered the bottom of your vision. You turned to look at the short neck of the bottle. He held it out to you with a staunch look. You bit your cheek and accepted it.

You took a small sip and handed it back. He gulped again and pushed his shoulders back as he looked around. “How many of you are there?” He asked.

“Five,” You answered in a half whisper.

“All girls?” He passed the bottle back. Another small drink; your stomach was sinking and the alcohol wasn’t helping.

“Yes,” You should’ve lied but you suspected he already knew.

“Didn’t know you were still here,” He took the bottle back and drank again. He set it on the table as he turned his chair and leaned forward. His blue eyes held yours. “Was hoping to hang back and sneak in and out. Maybe steal a few pieces of bacon if you hadn’t ate it all.”

“I won’t tell,” You said in a small voice, “You can still go. Take whatever you want.”

“Aren’t you curious about what happened?” He leaned his elbows on his knees as he gauged your expression.

“I think the less I know, the better,” You replied grimly.

His eyebrows shot up and his lips twitched. “Smart,” He sat up and his chest rose and fell as he exhaled. “You should’ve gone with your friends.”

“I should’ve,” You agreed. “You were watching us then?”

“Watching you.” He countered. “You were talking to yourself when you came out to the dump the dishwater.”

You recalled how you had in fact been muttering to yourself as you tipped the large steel basin over the side of the porch. It meant he had been close enough to hear you. He had been lurking in the trees for at least several hours. You nodded. Your voice was trapped in your chest.

“Have a drink.” He took the bottle and held it out to you again. You looked down in defeat and numbly accepted the gin. You raised it to your lips carefully. “A real one.” He pushed up the bottom of the bottle and forced you to gulp back the searing alcohol until you choked. He grabbed the gin and put it back on the table as you grasped at your throat.

When you recovered, you looked up at him. There was a frightening confidence to his gaze. “You can take the gin...there’s more bacon in the fridge and--”

“I don’t want it. Gin doesn’t affect me that much. Not very hungry anymore,” His features set as his pupils dilated. “Well, in a manner of speaking.”

“My friends--”

“Have got five, six hours before they need to start their boat and head back.” He said evenly. “It’s summer, they might have even longer. At least eight hours before dusk. I’d say we’ve got all the time in the world.” His tongue poked out between his lips as a smirk spread across his face. “You and me. All alone.”

You swore your heart stopped. You stood but he was faster. He shoved you back to your chair, his hands on your shoulders as he loomed over you. His nose was only inches from yours. “How far do you think you’ll get?” You blinked. Resignation shadowed your face and you knew he could see it. He could feel it as your shoulders fell. “It’s a vacation, isn’t it?”

He stood straight and his hands ran along the front of his belt. His fingers deftly unbuckled the leather and you looked to the wall. You listened to the metal as it clinked and the zipper of his pants as it descended. Your fingers sank into your thighs without thinking. The brush of fabric, the movement in the corner of your eyes, his breath steady and determined with his movements.

His hand was on your chin as he forced your head straight. You closed your eyes and his fingers squeezed harder. He could break your jaw with a single pinch. “Look at me,” Your eyes opened and you kept them aimed up at his face. He had his cock out, you could see it at the edge of your vision, smell it even. The odor of sweat and something else. Of him; dusky. “Just you girls up here...must be boring.”

Your nostrils flared as your fear melded with anger. Then shame. You thought of your boyfriend waiting for you back home. You had felt bad enough going away without him. Now look at you. It might not be of your own volition but you weren’t fighting it much were you.

“I don’t want to tie you to the chair.” He warned. “But I saw the rope in the drawer and it wouldn’t be hard. So stop that little mind of yours from running astray and open up.”

You did as he said. Your lips parted mechanically as his hand moved to cradle your cheek. His fingers spread and he gripped the side of your head as he pressed his cock to your lips. Slowly he pushed further and you couldn’t look him in the eye. You lowered your gaze so that you stared at the trail of hair along his pelvis. He sank deeper until he poked at your throat and you struggled to take more of him. He was bigger than your boyfriend. Much bigger.

“It’s been about a month since I’ve talked to someone else.” He spoke as he forced himself down your throat and you pushed against his thighs. You were at the edge of your seat as you tried not to gag. “Been running. Fighting.” He pulled back and then back in. He worked himself in and out as he urged you to accept more. “Lonely.”

Your eyes rolled back and your lids finally closed. You slapped at his thighs as he kept his motion steady, slowly building his speed. The room filled with the sound of his cock sliding in an out of your throat. Slobber spread across your lips and up his shaft. Your nails dug into his skin as he held your head between his hands. Your head spun as you were suffocated by the gin and his relentless fucking.

You were just about to fall out of the chair when he pulled out. He held onto your head with one hand as he stroked himself with the other. “Open.” He commanded and you kept your lips as you were as he tilted your chin. Erratic ribbons shot along your tongue and around your mouth. You waited until he finished and at last released you.

“Swallow.” His voice was smoky as he stared down at you. You closed your mouth and urged yourself to do as he said. His cum slid down your ragged throat with a painful gulp. “Strip.”

There was something about his tone, the way he ordered you around, that told you he was used to being in charge. You rose and stiffly untied the neck of your bathing suit top. The cups fell forward and you undid the back as well. You tossed away the bra and braced yourself as your fingers slid under the waist of your bottom. You bent and drew them down in one swoop. You stood straight as you stepped out of it.

“Turn around,” He twirled his finger in the air. His cock hung out of his pants without shame and you turned to hide your stray eyes. He looked even bigger than he felt. “On the chair. On your knees.” You approached the wooden chair and got up on your knees. He growled in approval as he came up behind you. “Do you swallow your boyfriend’s cum?”

“How--” You stopped yourself and bit your cheek instead.

“I heard you mention him to your friend. Something about him working too much. Wasn’t really listening.” His hands came up on either side of your head and brushed through your hair. He dragged his nails over your scalp and you resisted a shiver. “So, do you?”

You shook your head. You couldn’t have spoken if you tried. He gave a soft chuckle as his hands settled on your shoulders and kneaded them. His fingers then danced down your shoulder blades and along the curves of your body. He cupped your ass in his large hands; his palms calloused and rough. He pulled the cheeks apart and pushed them back together.

“Should I feel special then?” He teased. You sucked in your lip as he slipped one hand below your ass. He felt around and you closed your eyes as you felt your wetness at the same time he did. “Maybe less work and more play for you.”

“Shut up,” You whispered, “Just shut up.”

He slapped your ass so hard you fell against the back of the chair. “Too bad he’s not here to see how it’s done.” He continued. “Hmm? He could probably use some pointers if your quivering like this.”

You wrapped your fingers around the back of the chair. You clung to the top bar as you clamped your lips together. He felt around with his fingers until he found your entrance. He pushed inside with two fingers and you bit down. He added a third and you squirmed. He roughly worked in and out of you as he slid his cock down between your cheeks.

He pulled his fingers out and pressed on your lower back, your juices spreading across your skin. You arched your back as he lined his cock up with your entrance and you exhaled slowly. As he pushed inside you couldn’t help the whimper. The signal of your surrender as you hung your head. With every inch, you leaned forward, aiding his delve inside. When he bottomed out, he sighed. He slapped your ass with both hands and bucked his hips, poking your cervix sharply.

At first, his thrusts were slow, as if to allow your body to adjust. Your walls strained against him, aching as he stretched you to your limit. You grunted as you tried to withhold your moans. His hand slid up your back and his fingers wrapped around your shoulder as he curved your back further. He slipped out of you so that only his head remained and paused.

He slammed into you and you cried out as you slumped against the back of the chair entirely. Your breath picked up as his thrusts turned sharp; rough. He was done playing nice. The chair creaked and wobbled beneath you as he threatened to fuck it to splinters. You held on as you feared its collapse. His other hand was on your hip as he rutted into you like an animal. The grunts and snarls which rose from him assured you of nothing else. This was a man unhinged. A man who had left his humanity far behind.

Your walls clung to him, pulsed around him as you felt the bloom. The sudden surge and your head flung back. His fingertips dug into your shoulder as his pelvis clapped against your ass. You whined as your orgasm flowed through you and shattered the last of your strength. You spasmed against him. You dropped your head down and leaned it against the back of the chair as you chased the breath that had whisked from your lungs. You could barely keep yourself from crumpling to the floor.

The chair almost tipped as he pulled out of you suddenly. He drew you off your knees and turned you to face him. He swiped the empty cans, the bottle of gin, and the first aid kit from the table with his arm. He grabbed you and lifted you so easily your head spun. You landed on your back atop the wood and he was quick to move between your legs. His hands went to your thighs as he pushed your legs up as far as they would go. He entered without delay, even deeper than before.

His blue eyes glided up your body and watched the twitch of your cheek as you tried to restrain the pleasure soaring through you. His gaze retreated as he smirked and he pressed his thumb to your clit. You moaned and reached to latch onto the edge of the table as he resumed his former rhythm. There was no patience left in him. He pounded into you so that the table shook and your body added to its tremble.

You swore as another orgasm tore through you. Your legs were flush to his torso as he grabbed onto your thighs and held you close. He rocked his hips into you in violent thrusts. Your ass was almost off the table as he bit his lips and threw his head back. His strokes turned spastic and he slowed as he came. His heat seeped through you as he buried himself as deep as he could.

You shuddered as he let your legs fall around him and your chest beat a melody. You lay prone across the table and he removed himself after a moment. He huffed and fell back into the chair. He was still hard but fatigue lined his eyes and hung from his broad shoulders. You raised your head as you sensed his gaze. He watched as his cum leaked from between your legs and you pushed your thighs together as you sat up.

“Come on,” He patted his thigh and held the base of his cock with his other hand, “Might as well have some fun while your friends have their own, huh?”

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gt-adventures · 5 years ago

Text

Hey Little SongBird

(SFW GT fantasy adventure short story.)

A Tale of the Mystic Woods

Staring: Yonah HaEsh the half-giant wizard. and guest-starring Ophir, the mostly human bard.

Summary: Ophir the bard needs a story to get back in the good graces of the Bards Guild and ventures into the Mystic Woods to find one. And what a story he ends up in! In the clutches of the Great and Terrible Yonah HaEsh. Can Ophir, through story, song, and dance, touch the evil “man-eating” giant’s wicked heart and avoid a terrible fate? (yes of course he can!)

Warnings: Yonah’s job is to be a villainous fairy tale giant (and wizard). That means the whole “fee fi fo fum” and threatening to eat people routine, and he’s really convincing. At no point in this story does he ever intend to follow through on the threat. ALSO Ophir tells a fairytale that ends slightly gruesomely (I actually changed it to be less so… still)

---

I hate the stereotype of bards being horny tricksters who use their voices to seduce people into infidelity. Any such stories are complete poppycock and base slander. Bards are more than pretty faces and lovely voices. We are first and foremost story tellers, entertainers! Actors and chroniclers! Often risking life and limb to get you the stories you love so much. Those fancy sword moves and fight dances you see on stage aren’t just for show.

But still. Going into the Mystic Woods in search of my next story was not a great idea. Solo’ing an adventure into such a dangerous realm was asking for death, with no one around who could tell of it. And yet. I had run out of new material and was desperate. Why didn’t I just purchase rights from another bard through the guild? You might ask. Clever, very clever, but that’s what low rankers do. The apprentices, the journeyors. Not Masters such as I. At least. Not ones who are blacklisted from the guild for not properly crediting a story. How was I to know it wasn’t public domain! It seemed pretty generic to me.

Another problem with being blacklisted? No one wants to adventure with you. Not anyone high ranking enough to help me anyways.

Regardless, to earn back my place in the guild I needed a new story, an impressive story. So I gathered my supplies and took the first teleport to the City of Luster, closest city in the Kingdom of Orr to the Mystic Woods. Sure, other cities exist at its borders, but Luster is the only one with a direct path into the Woods. A path that is safe, to a point.

It’s also a great place to get a few last minute supplies. For example, a small ukulele. My previous instrument, my precious goldenrod Oud, was repossessed by the guild. I needed something cheap and lightweight. And also I was banned from purchasing from most craftsfolk because, and I’m sure you’re tired of hearing this, im Blacklisted.

Luster is so large that I was able to find the ukulele in a pawn shop. I wasn’t after a ukulele, that’s just what was there.

Right! I was ready to go.

Whistling the first ever song I wrote, and tuning my new old ukulele, I set off down the road.

And Into the Woods.

---

Maybe I should lower my standards? Surely the guild won't be too hard on me?

Or perhaps it would just take more than a day and night in the woods to find a story.

The first day I found some gnomes preparing for a small feast of the half-moon glory. I was confident that something would happen at the party. Something had to go wrong, and maybe a hero, maybe I, would save the day! Or night, as it would be night. No such luck, it was a very nice celebration, absolutely no issues. Wasted a day!!

Not that i'm on a time limit.

The gnomes were so nice, and they made the most delightful floral scented cakes. They enjoyed my songs and tales about heroic gnomes and I left their camp with a flower crown and a sack of cakes.

I felt like today I would find a story!

Nope.

In this forest of wonder and magic and monsters and secrets, I ran into nothing. I even played music to attract trouble but Nooooooooo, guess even the beasts of the woods knew I was blacklisted!

It was late afternoon when I found some interesting deer tracks and decided to follow.

Bards aren’t known for our stealth but I’m going to tell you a secret. What’s the guild gonna do! Blacklist me?

Anyways the secret is: certain Bards learn to play notes and pitches that cancel out our footsteps and create silence.

I followed the prints to find a small herd of very interesting deer!

They had really interesting patterns, each one slightly different but only if you looked closely. That meant I needed a closer look.

So focused on the deer I didn’t watch my feet and I tripped. The deer ran off.

“HEY!” a shrill voice called from somewhere in the trees, “What did you do that for?”

No idea who was yelling at me but I was taking no chances, and like the deer I bolted. But not fast enough, not nimble enough.

An arrow shot by my leg and stuck in the ground. I stopped. And stood perfectly still.

“idiot.” the voice was now right behind me!

I turned. And looked down. It was an elf! With plum purple skin and dark green hair.

And they were laughing.

Then another elf fell from the trees to land silently next to the first. This one had dark green skin and straw yellow hair. Their long ears were standing straight up reaching higher than my eyes.

They were laughing too.

“What’s so funny?”

“You responded to ‘idiot’!” Said the purple one.

Ugh. Elves!!

Then they got suddenly more serious.

“Can’t believe it! We’ve been hunting those deer for days and you happen to trip when we got them in our sights!”

“I’m, sorry?”

The second elf elbowed the first, “he couldn’t have known we were there, Damian! Not his fault!” She spoke in elvish but I’m fluent.

The first elf, Damian, looked up and half groaned half sighed, “and I suppose, Bridget, that I should apologize to the human for almost shooting him?”

I don’t know why I spoke up but I did.

“It was an impressive warning shot!”

Damian’s ears stood up again then folded back and a little red flush appeared on the purple cheeks. As did on Bridget’s but for a different reason.

“Yes. Warning shot,” they said.

This time I managed to keep my mouth shut. Not a smart idea to quip about an elve’s bunting prowess. I still wasn’t happy to learn they were trying to shoot me!

“You’re an adventurer?” Asked Bridget.

“A bard!” I said.

“Need a place to stay tonight?”

The shadows were lengthening, I hadn’t noticed. And then my stomach growled.

“I sure do. But are you sure? I mean I did scare the deer-“

Damian shouldered their bow and nodded, “It wouldn’t be very elven to leave a stranger in the woods.”

Even not hunting they moved so silently I couldn’t take my eyes off them as I followed them to their village. We stopped by the temple, as it is the respectful thing to do when entering the village. It was set up for fall, done up in browns and oranges and paper chains. On the altar was a single brown leaf. The first one seen by a member of the village.

I’m not elvish but I still prayed to Autumn for my hometown to have a bountiful harvest.

I sat on the floor in the common dining hall as my new… friends, sat on stools made of tree stumps. They may not have caught any deer but there was some sort of roasted meat concoction wrapped in sugary leaves, crystallized to give it crunch, making a sweet and savory combination I’d never experienced before. The same sugar crispy leaves were used to scoop a sort of nut and vegetable curry. Delightful! I could write a song just about the food.

I of course told them why I was in the woods, since they were curious.

And they told everyone how I tripped and fell, exaggerating it greatly. All the elves laughed but knowing elves I was better off. They enjoyed slapstick comedy. The fact that I was able to laugh at myself seemed to gain me favor.

One elf, with lighter green skin and dark brown hair laughed like the rest and yet, their eyes were deep in thought. They were a strange one, I think. Even by elf standards they had a strange name.

Jacuzzi? Who names themselves jacuzzi?

Then they spoke.

“So, you need a story?” They asked. I nodded.

“I think I can help you,” they said, “at the very least point you in the right direction.”

At their words a lot of the company got quiet.

“If you’re that desperate, there’s,” they paused, as if they were still considering whether or not to tell me, “A wizard. If you encounter him, you’re sure to get a proper story.”

I couldn’t think why this made the elf act so strange, plenty of mages made it their job to participate in tales. Though. With wizards they were usually evil, if not a member of an adventuring party. Nonetheless! A story about a wizard sounded fantastic.

“Where does-“ I stopped myself from finishing that stupid sentence. Nowhere in the Mystic Woods stayed put so asking for directions was complete folly.

“What’s the best way to, uh, find him?”

Jacuzzi shrugged “The birds have the most up to date information. But you’ll know it’s his place when you find the tower in the garden.”

Lots of wizards had towers, few had gardens. That was more of a witch thing.

“He’ll be there? Tonight”

“Probably, he can't- well he’ll be there. If not tonight then by the morning. Don’t mess with his things.”

“Why-”

“He considers it extremely rude- You don't want to be rude”

Sound advice.

“Hold on tonight?” Damian re-entered the conversation. “Are you mad? Traveling the forest at night is dangerous! Especially alone.”

“So? I’m trying to get into trouble. Doesn’t make a difference if I find it at the tower or on my way.”

My confidence wasn’t entirely fake. I had a good meal, I wasn’t tired. I could knock this out by morning!

“Thank you, for everything.”

I swear I heard giggling as I departed. If these elves were pulling one over on me well! I don’t know what I would do but I’ll think of something. I had a wizard to find.

It wasn’t long before I realized why I should have waited for morning.

No! Birds!

From Who could I ask directions? The sun was about to set. It was only early autumn, the days were still a decent length, but it would be dark real soon. No birds, no people.

Wait. I spoke too soon. There were footsteps. It was a slim chance but maybe they could help me.

“Young man, what are you doing? Don’t you know it’s dangerous to be out at night alone?”

The voice had a deep and soft quality that wasn’t human. But they were speaking Orriandish. Really folks, dont meet strangers in the forest that you can’t see. They’re usually evil witches or sorcerers or cyclops ogres. Yeah, one-eyed ogres are skilled talkers, luring people to them. It was only after I answered I realized this could be an ogre.

“Aren’t you out alone too?”

“Why yes-” the voice was closer and then I saw them.

Thankfully it wasn’t and ogre. But it was a witch, and a dwarf one. Uncommon. Probably not evil. It did explain why they were confidently out at night. Dwarves had pretty amazing night vision. They had the traditional black robe and hat, and a cat sat down beside them. It was a really large cat, which was amusing next to the short witch. Their long braided beard was decorated with trinkets, which was a quaint look I must admit.

“But I live here.”

I stood up straight, which I guess was a bit rude.

“How do you know I don’t?” I stammered, “I could!”

The dwarf stroked their beard, “I guess it’s possible, do you?”

I sighed and slouched, “No…”

“But I am looking for trouble.” I explained my story and the dwarf listened, smiling kindly.

“So the elves told me I would be guaranteed a story if I found this wizard who has a tower and a garden-”

The witch’s eyebrows raised.

“- you know this wizard?”

The cat mrowed loudly, his tail swishing on the forest floor a bit faster.

“I do indeed,” there was an extreme fondness in their voice.

“And you know where he is?”

The witch laughed, “I’d say this was coincidence, but in these parts there are too many of those to be truly coincidental. I do in fact know the currently location, and it’s close by.”

“Really!” I almost danced with excitement.

Unlike the elves the dwarf had no hesitations. They pointed me in the right direction, and informed me of a few roadblocks and landmarks.

“Thanks so much!” I waved back at them and didn’t look where I was going and almost tripped.

Almost.

“And light your lantern!”

Oh right, duh!

Finding the tower was easy with the witch’s directions. They’d even told me the thorns were fake and the vines safe to climb up. That should have raised red flags, or some color, but I was so focused on achieving my goal.

Now, we bards aren’t really known for our… physical abilities beyond dance. We can fight sure, but a fifty-foot climb is gonna leave most bards gasping for breath. I'm proud to say I was merely on the cusp of wheezing, though I was having difficulty standing.

I needed to rest. So I lay on the windowsill.

Which I failed to notice stretched so that I could more than easily lie down. The cool night air and stone felt so nice. I looked into the tower.

And my heart stopped.

I’d gotten a brief glimpse before nearly passing out, but it was different now.

Exactly the same.

But.

Bigger.

You might know, my readers, that wizards are all human. All of them. Non-humans aren’t allowed to attend the academy. I’m sure those like I, being a quarter fairy, might be let in, but... This- this giant sized workshop didn’t make any sense. A giant could not be a wizard no way. Why would the elves say this was a wizard’s tower? Did they not understand the difference between wizard, witch, and sorcerer?

But the dwarf witch, they had to know! They had not corrected me. Plus, the workshop did have a very wizard feel to it.

What was going on here?

I needed a moment to process so I rolled over to look outside. Looking inside made my head hurt.

But a Giant Wizard. If that were real, what a story! If it were fake, then well, a giant mage is still exciting. I looked once more into the room. Three desks, one for material prepping and alchemy, one that looked like the main workbench, and one… like a spare workbench? It was not very organized compared to the other. And shelves full of things I could not identify.

And on the floor, an open trap door with stairs leading down. Down to where the wizard must be.

I was thankful I had noticed the shift in scale, or I surely would have fallen 15 feet onto the floor. Instead I got out my grappling hook and rope and rappelled down. With a flick, the hook dislodged. This place was large, I would need it again.

I could have spent hours in this room, just taking in the immense magical collection, but that wasn’t why I was there. And I heard noises from down the stairs. Water? Clinking metal? I took each stair one at a time, slowly making my way deeper into the tower.

Either the kitchen just happened to be one floor down or this stairwell was enchanted to take you to the floor you were thinking about. For just as I reached the landing I saw the massive doorframe that led into what was clearly a kitchen and small dining room. Small for the giant, who was at the sink washing pots, pans, and other things.

He certainly looked like a wizard! A tall wide brimmed hat with a curling point, and robes that matched the garish colors and patterns. He had a neatly trimmed goatee and mutton chops, and long curly black hair tied behind his back. On his handsomely large nose rested thick square spectacles. Not only was he tall, he was just plain large.

I know I talked about the false stereotypes of bards, but we weren't the only profession with them. People tended to think of Wizards as more delicate, as they spent all their time studying, never going out, forgetting meals. But this, man, for he looked more human than giant except for being over 20ft tall, well the only word for it was burly.

I’d never imagined a wizard who, if you removed his wizard robes, put him in a flannel shirt and handed him an axe would be a picture perfect lumberjack. Now such a wizard was right before my very eyes.

Suddenly I was not so confident. I should have lost my nerve back at the window, when I saw the scale of the workshop. But it just didn’t hit me until I saw the giant. I’ve seen giants before, they are actually larger than this person, that made him seem more dangerous.

Oh.

Oh no.

This wasn’t just any wizard, or any giant.

This one was evil.

Maybe I could just leave! Yeah. I would just get the fuck out of here. I was not prepared to handle an evil giant wizard.

I made my decision a bit too late. The giant stopped cleaning a plate to look up and sniff the air.

Shit.

It was futile to run, but it was my only option. I didn’t even make it up two stairs before the giant roared with delight.

“FEE FI FO FUM!”

No no no! Not that!

“I SMELL THE BLOOD OF THE HUMAN KIND!”

Well technically I was quarter fairy but-

“BE THEY ALIVE OR BE THEY DEAD, I’LL GRIND THEIR BONES TO MAKE MY BREAD.”

Yeah… I should not have come here. Evil giants tend to eat people. I’d had a small hope that this smaller giant, who was very likely a proper wizard, wouldn’t. Also the line about grinding my bones to make bread? I’m no alchemist but I dont think powdered bones make for a good flour, and wouldn’t even be enough to make bread for a giant if it were! As far as I knew giants didn’t bother with such things and just gobbled people up.

Which didn’t bode well for me as this giant made it stairwell in a few seconds and scooped me up in one hand, holding me up to his face.

“How convenient, a tasty little thief” he smiled, revealing very giant-like fangs. His breath was horrible. “I was just thinking I needed some dessert.”

“Please! Mister Wizard, I did not steal anything, I am no thief! I’m a bard!”

The giant raised his eyebrows, but did not set me down, instead he turned and walked back into the kitchen.

“A bard?” he asked, “what’s your name?”

“Ophir Shel Peh!” I said.

“Not Jack then?” The giant tapped his chin, and his eyes found my ukulele. “Hm. Yes I would say you probably are a bard! I don’t get many of those.”

He sat at the personal dining table. And set me in front of him, putting his elbows on the table, and his chin over intertwined fingers. It was silent except for his breathing, and my heart in my ears. Every breath he took blew around me, and it was just a little warmer than I expected. He didn’t say anything for a long time and I started shaking, adding my rattling bones to the noise.

“Why are you here?” he asked before I fainted (I had… somehow forgot about breathing).

“Adventuring!” I couldn’t say ‘for a story’! THAT’S CHEATING. But perhaps... Ah I can’t lie to you reader. I wish I could say I was perspicacious enough to consider this giant was a professional fairytale villain. But I had no idea. I was damn lucky he was though. And he’s really good. I understand why His Mystical Majesty hired him.

Let’s get back to me being a complete dumbass shall we?

The giant’s face hardened and I worried I’d fucked up.

“Adventuring?” he asked rhetorically, but I nodded, then he looked a little morose.

“Shame, I was thinking of letting you go-”

He was!?

“-But I guess I have to eat you after all.”

He didn't sound at all troubled by it. I mean, he had threatened to do so. I backed up and he smiled, knowing he could snatch me up no matter what. I think he could tell I was going to ask why, even just to stall.

“It’s nothing personal, I don’t like intruders on my good days. But I can’t have you out there talking about me, spreading the word of a merciful giant. You’ll only get more people killed. ”

That was a lot to process but I got the gist.

“I won't talk!”

He stood up and slammed his palms on the table so hard I finally fell down.

“You’re a bard, it’s your job!”

Unfortunately he was right.

Then he looked a bit surprised by something, narrowing his eyes at me.

“I suppose,” he said, “your job also involves performing?”

I nodded.

“I don’t get to go out much,” he said, though I wasn’t sure that the entire truth “If you give me a good show, I might consider it payment for what would have been an extra special treat. I can smell the fairy blood on you.”

I tried not to make a face. My fairy blood made me smell better? Great. And there was always a chance he was lying, just to get a show and his dessert. Evil giants might be fairly honorable, but evil wizards were notoriously dishonest. So I had no idea with this evil giant wizard.

“Wh-what do you want me to do?” I asked.

He sat back down, perfectly copying his original pose.

“Tell me a story,” he said. “And perhaps I will not eat you.”

Great. Legally there weren’t many stories I could tell. You might be asking, ‘Ophir! You’re about to die, what do you care?’ Well if I live and I'm found out, I’ll be expelled from the guild for life. I’m already in hot water.

That… and the only stories I could think of were ones with evil wizards or giants, who ended up dead. Curse my stupid brain. But I couldn’t refuse, he would eat me! Guess I had no other choice.

[(adapted from a real tale)

The story of Maestro Lattantio and His Apprentice Dionigi.

It was an old tale, from the long dead kingdom of Italy, so anyone could tell it. A wild tale of a wizard and his apprentice battling it out in ways only two mages would. Wanting to be free of his abusive master, Diogini kept turning into things, animals, creatures, to escape.

But Lattantio would transform into the exact creature or monster or animated object needed to re-capture Diogini. Eventually Diogini turned into a fish and swam down a river. Lattantio declared that he was through with these games and would kill him. Lattantio turned into a kingfisher hawk, intending to snatch him out of the water, but Diogini jumped into a basket carried by a handmaiden for the princess. The handmaiden had been doing laundry, so being a fish wouldn’t do. He turned himself into a beautiful ruby ring. The princess found it in her pocket and he became her new favorite piece of jewelry.

Then one day, the King became ill, and Lattantio was called in to cure him. He did of course, and in payment, asked for the princess’s ruby ring, for he could tell it was Diogini. But he could come back tomorrow for the payment

That night, when the princess took off the ring, Diogini transformed back into a man. He apologized for his ruse, and explained that the wizard Lattantio was his enemy, and would do anything to get him back into his clutches. The princess, who at first was horrified, saw that Diogini meant her no harm, and he was as handsome a man as he was beautiful a ring. She asked how she could help.

The next day, when Lattantio returned, the princess stepped forward and held out the ring. Then dropped it to the floor. It turned into a mouse, so of course, Lattantio turned into a cat. The princess whistled to one of the palace dogs, which leapt at the cat, breaking its neck.

Diogini quickly returned to human form and separated the dog from the cat’s corpse, tossing it into the fire. The only way to be sure the evil was truly destroyed.

Impressed by Diogini’s skill and at the behest of the princess, the King was happy to make Diogini the court wizard, and his son.

]

I concluded the story, and looked at the giant, distressed to find he looked unimpressed.

“That was,” he waved his hand in a dismissal manner, “diverting, but I could just have easily read that story.”

WHAT! I’d done voices! I was dramatic and expressive! How dare he say reading it from a book could be the same! But I couldn’t be angry because I was scared.

“Though I suppose it was decent,” he continued, “just not enough to keep you alive.”

Crap.

“Dance for me,” he said, “and perhaps I will not eat you.”

It took me a few seconds to notice he wasn’t eating me, but instead was giving me another chance. But… Dance!? On this table? With my leather boots on? And my thick pants? And no music!? This was not good.

“S-sure” I said, I was still shaking badly.

Since there was no music I thought perhaps, something that conveyed real meaning through motion. I could hear the song in my head at least, so I wouldn’t falter or look like I was making shit up.

I leapt and gestured, and waggled my body in the most embarrassing ways.

“What is this crap?” said the giant after I had danced for only a minute.

“Interpretive dance, mister giant,” I said, freezing in a most uncomfortable pose.

“You’d better pick something else,” he said. “And give it some more personality”

All I knew was he had given me a second chance. Ok. So I didn’t have music, but maybe something rhythmic would be better. I didn’t have the right shoes but my footsteps were still very audible.

So I went into a new dance. Hopping and stomping and tapping my feet. Then I started singing. I had been so stupid that I forgot I could do both at the same time. I basically re-invented a few ritual dances from my hometown, used to bless the beginning of each month. If I lived through this I would go home and teach everyone.

The giant Watched me carefully from behind those huge glasses. Judge, jury and executioner.

Finally I was sore and out of breath, jumped up to land with a mighty THUNK, ending the performance.

The giant looked a bit sorry now. Why would he look sorry!?

“That was very impressive, and your singing was a nice touch, but I think such things would best be done with a group. Alone it was underwhelming.”

What did he know! I’d danced my freaking ass off! I sat down and tried not to cry as I regained my strength. Why weren’t my best efforts good enough!? I was a Master bard. But I was at the mercy of the most subjective critic. I had to change tactics. Impressing him wasn’t going to cut it.

“Well, since it’s getting late,” he reached out a hand.

“Wait!” I shouted, nearly breaking my voice which would have been a death sentence.

The giant’s hand paused, “That was so bold I’m inclined to do so, but not for long.”

“You, liked my singing?” I asked.

The hand retreated. “You could say that.” Then he caught on. “Fine. One last chance.”

He leaned back, crossed his arms, and cleared his throat.

“Sing for me, little bard, and perhaps, I will consider not eating you.”

I scrambled to my ukulele. It was so old it was already out of tune, so I hurriedly tuned it, under the piercing gaze of the giant.

“Your voice isn’t magical is it?” Asked the giant as I tuned the ukulele.

I smiled “No, it is. My fey ancestry. Never really tested its power. Mostly I’ve transfixed crowds or made them cry with the opening notes. I’ve also played monsters to sleep.”

He leaned forward as I realized my mistake and quickly added “but that doesn’t work if you know about it! Which you now do!”

Thankfully he believed me. I was telling the truth, but there was no reason for him to trust me.

“Well, just make it a nice song. I’ve got sensitive ears.”

Oh fantastic. That meant he could probably tell if I went out of key. I had a moment’s thought to play something screeching and horrible, to make him bleed from his ears, giving me a chance to get away, or at least cause him pain before he ended my life. No. My first choice of song was probably the best one.

I sat down criss cross apple sauce, but back very straight. And I strummed the opening cords.

[

In the quiet mystic morning When the sun’s just graced the land O’er the horizon, lies a story And it begs to take my hand

Now that summer’s ceased its gleaming And the harvest’s past its prime In adventure I’ve found meaning But I’ll be homeward bound in time

Bind me not, to the pasture Chain me not to the town Set me free to find my calling And I’ll return to you somehow

As the first instrumental break started I turned my attention to the giant. His face was as stoney as ever. I wasn’t hitting my mark. So I continued.

If you find it’s me you’re missing And you’re hoping I’ll return To your thoughts I’ll soon be listing On the road I’ll stop and turn

The old strings were threatening to cut into my fingers but I just used the pain to fuel my voice, powering it with agony and sorrow. I saw the giant’s brows raise as my human sized voice grew to fill the giant room.

For the wind has set me racing As my journey now begins To leave the path I’ll be retracing When I’m homeward bound again

Bind me not, to the pasture Chain me not to the town Set me free to find my calling And I’ll return to you somehow

The second, and last, instrumental break. I had started crying at the chorus and couldn’t see the giant through my tears. My last performance, and it was for my murderer.

And still my song rang out.

In the quiet Mystic morning When the moon has gone to bed When adventure’s lost its meaning…

I’ll be homeward bound

Again

My ears were ringing from the sheer volume, I was clutching the Ukulele so hard it threatened to crack. I was numb from all my efforts. Now would be a great time for him to eat me, maybe I would feel no pain.

Then, as my ears and eyes cleared up, I saw.

The giant's eyes, red. Shiny trails of tears down his cheeks. His arms were still crossed but he looked like he was almost strangling himself. Still, I did not let myself feel any hope.

“Dammit,” he hissed and sniffed, “I should eat you for making me cry.”

No. No no no no no.

“But I won’t” he sniffed again and got out a handkerchief, “You’ve more than earned your life.”

I collapsed and started crying harder. I had done it. By the gods. I had fucking done it. I let myself melt into the table, half passing out. I didn’t want to feel or think for an entire week. I guess because he wasn’t going to kill me, the giant let me lay there.

When I finally sat up he was making tea! I very much wanted to get the fuck out of there but the tea smelled amazing, almost magical.

He noticed me moving.

“I find tea helps after a harrowing adventure,” he said cheerfully.

His demeanor was entirely different. His face was softer, his voice was higher, his dark brown eyes colder, but considering they had been blazing before, it was a friendly warmth now.

That really had been an adventure hadn’t it. One that really made use of my skill set. One that was perfect to turn into a story. It had great pacing too, with just a bit of tweaking. I’d already started writing out the flowery prose and accompanying staging in my head. My interpretive dance was going to be way better in the retelling, but don’t say anything to the guild alright? Everyone embellished.

I had to scramble away as he set the table, which meant setting down a smaller table and chair for me, and then bringing over his own cup and the teapot. He touched the sides of the pot that must be hot enough to scald skin from bone like it was nothing, pouring out near boiling tea. I watched mesmerized as he used a bit of magic to pour the tea into my teacup.

“Let it cool,” he said, as he took a drink of his own tea, “I’m not normally a fan of sweetened tea, but I thought a little extra honey would do your throat some good.”

I gingerly stood up and got into the chair. It was normal sized of course, since he was giant. But here I felt like a doll that some demonic girl had set up for a tea party.

“Thanks,” I said, and indeed my throat felt raw. I couldn’t wait to drink the tea, but it was still too hot.

“I should be thanking you,” said the giant, smiling and showing off his fangs, but it no longer felt so threatening, “That was quite a show! You must be a really high ranking bard.”

My face turned very red, “I- well I’m on probation,” I admitted, “blacklisted. So really, thanks for-”

I saw his eyes glitter, literally.

“You- you never meant to eat me did you?”

He grinned even wider, “No, but I trust you won't include that in your tale.”

I shook my head.

“I very much enjoy playing the big bad giant,” he mused, “But I have other work; I can’t have adventurers showing up all the time.”

Now I was curious, “If I may ask, what else do you do then?”

There was a short pause as he considered whether or not to tell me. I wondered if it was a grand secret.

“I’m a royal wizard,” he finally said, and there was a massive amount of pride underneath his tone. And resentment. That was concerning.

My jaw dropped, “You- A Royal Wizard?”

This might be the most interesting person I’d ever met. How did a giant, or giant-esq thing become a royal wizard!? How did a royal wizard end up running an evil tower?

“You already got one tale, but if you’re not inclined to leave so soon, I can give you another.”

I definitely knew where this was going and I definitely wanted this tale.

“But on one condition,” he said. “You cannot tell it until either I or the Mystic King is dead.”

“Are- you dying?” I asked.

He laughed, “No, but I am still a villain. I try to keep a fairly low profile, but any day a slayer could show up and succeed in killing me.”

That made sense, but now that I was not mortally terrified of him, I saw that this man was much younger than I’d previously thought. He looked barely 24, a young man, and he had to worry about slayers! It also meant it couldn’t have been in this job for that long, being evil must really suit him.

“Hopefully it won’t be for years, which will give you time to make this tale as grand as possible,” he continued.

He drank more of his tea.

“I’m not great story teller,” he started off, “but I suppose the tale of how a foolish half-giant with dreams of becoming a wizard, and ending up a prisoner in the woods, might be a good one.”

Prisoner? Even more layers. Yes. This should be a good one indeed.

Though he was right. Gods, wizards! They have no concept of narrative flow! They don’t leave out details!

And yet. It was riveting. Yonah HaEsh, for that was his name which I finally learned, was half giant, half FireWitch. His father, the FireWitch, got interested in magic, but he wanted more structured study, beyond what witches can do. So he disguised himself as human to attend school. He was found out eventually, expelled and arrested for infiltrating the kingdom as a dangerous magical monster. He was almost executed before he was offered a job here in the tower! And amazingly, the Grand Master of the school had taken pity on him and allowed him to continue his studies here and graduate, earning the right to call himself a wizard.

I had forgotten about my tea by the end and it had gone cold. That was an easy fix apparently: he pinched the cup between his thumb and pointer finger. A few seconds later it was steaming again.

I finally took a sip, it was incredible. I made a mental note to write a poem or a song about it. But I had other things to think about, to talk about.

“It’s a great story,” I said, with a cockiness I should have tried to keep in check, “but it needs a lot of work. It’s a good thing I’ve got a lot of time. I’ll need to go out and interview people.”

I stood up, “Which means, I need to hear it again.”

Yonah raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”

“I should have been taking notes,” I said, “I need more specific dates and times and names! Oh and if you can tell me how your parents met, that would make for a great prologue.”

He stood up too, clearing away his and my tea settings. But he didn’t clean them, just put them aside.

“In that case,” he said, returning and offering his hand palm up, “We should take this upstairs.”

I still hesitated a bit, but I sat on his hand and was transferred to his shoulder. I’d never been on a giant’s shoulder before. I was tempted to touch his curly hair, since mountain giants don’t have hair, I thought it amazing that this half-giant had such thick silky locks. I settled to lean a bit towards his head for steadiness. Yonah didn’t say anything as he regathered the teapot and cups, and even got a few pieces of berry-nut bread and goat cheese. Then headed up to the workshop.

Once again, he had a human sized desk that he set on his much larger one, and human sized pens (really nice ones), and a few human sized notebooks. Though I guess, since he can reduce to human size whenever he wanted (that was part of his “disguise”), and had many human friends, it made sense.

“We can go in order,” I said, “But I think I want to start on what you got up to in school. We want people to really get attached to you and your friends so that they are on your side by the trial.”

Yonah liked that idea. I think he wanted this story to show him in a positive light, even if he was officially evil.

We worked through the night. And my second cup of tea got cold.

[FIN]

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FOR REFERENCE, HERE’S HOW THE SONG SOUNDS: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VooU55wzSEc

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[I have to mention, that I have many more Mystic Woods stories, however those contain safe/soft non-sexual v/o/r/e... But lucky for you! i have filed them them separately! and (when needed) Every story comes with detailed content warnings!]

For ALL mystic woods stories:

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