#I always think about the idea of his spirit thing just wandering in that forest

[flixiastar]

Boogie man of saint Juana’s forest

[creativenicocorner]

Hello! I'm really curious what Starry Starry Night is about?

♡(o˘◡˘o) Thank you so much @disorganised-thoughtss for asking! ♡

This is another fic I'm excited to sink my teeth into when I get the chance!

"Starry Starry Night" is heavily inspired by the manga Insomniacs After School by Makoto Ojiro.

I plan on having it be very Tome centric, taking place nearly directly after the events of the Reigen Manga. As a result of Rusty-chan, the forest, and Roshūto, Tome develops a really bad case of insomnia and really struggles to sleep. Making her snap a little more than usual, and causing a bit of growing pains in terms of inserting herself into Spirits and Such.

The following is a super rough bit of back and forth during some brainstorming. I'm always fascinated by the thought of either Tome or Teruki feeling ... complicated feelings as (what they feel to be but aren't) 'replacements'.

Idk I'm not married to this bad and forth, but I think some version of this will perhaps exist in the finished product:

"I know why you really don’t want me here.” “Yeah?” Challenged Reigen, matching jeering tone with jeering tone. And then Tome straightened, right and serious and deftly to the point in the only way teenagers can: Terrifyingly. “You’re just mad I’m here instead of Shigeo." A fiery whine tinged her voice with emotion. Tome hated it, hated how her eyes felt prickly with potential tears. "You wish he were here, instead of me.” Reigen’s eyes widened, then he looked away, unable to meet Tome’s challenging eyes. Mostly because, in that moment, he was too ashamed. Dreadfully so. She was right…in a small sense. He did miss Mob, but he had grown, and that's okay. Reigen just didn't realize how much he'd miss him until the moment Tome pointed it out. And it made him feel wretched. He had no idea Tome felt this way... did Teruki as well? Or any of the other gaggle of teens? Reigen took a measured breath while Tome pointed at the act as if exposing condemning evidence. "See!" Tome continued her jabbing motion. "I knew it!" Serizawa looked between the pair of them, unsure how to help. A growing silence was filling the restaurant as fellow patrons turned to watch the scene in curiosity. Reigen and Tome ignored them. "Alright," said Reigen, resigned, and painfully honest, "…yes." "HAH!" Tome jumped, and nearly caused the table in their booth to jolt. "I do miss him," continued Reigen, ignoring her interruption. "But that doesn't mean I expect you to replace him. You're your own person Tome, and he is his own person. No one can replace another. People aren't things, it doesn't work like that. Which means you are irreplaceable in your own right, Tome-chan." The dagger straight point of Tome's index finger transformed slowly into something less sharp. Serizawa smiled, and politely passed Tome a tissue. With fumbling hands she accepted Serizawa's tissue gratefully. Then looked away from Reigen's knowing look, "shut up." Reigen nodded. "Allergies, huh?" "Whatever." Reigen and Serizawa shared a smile. Over the sounds of Tome blowing her nose, Serizawa said cheerfully, "I wonder what they have to offer for dessert."

Anywho... Instead of sitting around at home, staring at the ceiling waiting for a sleep that won't come, Tome starts spending her nights wandering Seasoning City alone which is interesting, until not safe/risk of getting caught by a bicycle cop.

During one of her nightly escapades she runs into Takenaka (who struggles with insomnia for different reasons. Wanting to take advantage of the night as one of the few times the world is a little quieter for the telepath. Making it one of the few times he doesn't need to use his headphones). Shenanigans ensue, but also a far deeper friendship than before.

One night they stumbles across Reigen as well, (likewise still experiencing after effects of dealing with Rusty), but his insomnia is something he had been dealing with since before dealing with Rusty. Words of wisdom etc and encouragement for Tome to learn astronomy. Among other Tome and Reigen shenanigans as I love them as a bombastic chaotic duo.

Somewhere down the line Tome manages to convince Reigen to chaperone for school sanctioned nightly escapades for night time photography.

Serirei things happen in the background, sometimes mirroring Tome's own navigations of the heart (she WILL be a disaster bisexual because I DO make the rules of this fic haha). And perhaps exploring what it is like to be in a fresh new relationship with each other (serirei)?

And uh, yeah! I have a very vague idea, but a barely there outline, and am filled with vibes. I'm very excited for this concept though! I think Tome developing a love for astronomy and star gazing feels completely natural considering her love of aliens. And yeah, I want to see more Tome and Reigen scenarios/shenanigans, as well as explore her relationship with Takenaka more

We'll see how these vibes grow haha

(♡˙︶˙♡)Thank you so much again for the ask!!

[danieyells]

Originally I agreed with the idea that Haku is the spy but now my thoughts are beginning to shift. There’s that one campus scene where Leo mentions one of the “hook-up” spots being close to a “creepy forest.” “Creepy forest” could be in reference to Hotarubi or Obscura. Since you’ve shown us Haku’s higher affinity lines… I’m beginning to think he’s working w Alan, Towa, Taiga. Obviously Haku has connections with Towa. I feel like the scene of them encountering each other at the car junkyard could be read a few different ways. My first thought was that Towa was calling Haku a snake by mentioning the dodge viper. This could be a nod to Haku being a spy. But after reading the higher affinity lines, what if it was just him poking at Haku for leaving Frostheilm? Third thought was what if he’s trying to slyly say someone’s (Leo) listening in? Himbo Alan doesn’t seem to catch onto when Towa attempts to hint that someone’s eavesdropping but Haku would catch on. Any animosity between them could just be for show? It would explain why they’d still agree they’d need to chat. Also, why is Haku at the junkyard in the first place…? Meeting with Alan? Towa? Or someone else entirely? 🤔

The fact that you said "Towa" instead of "Tohma" several times makes me laugh lolol. SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO RESPOND TO ANON I DRAFTED IT DURING WORK AND FORGOT FOR AGES 🙃

Idk why but Haku as the spy or actually being suspicious never really stuck with me like. . .it genuinely felt too obvious. Look at him. This is a guy who looks like he's supposed to betray you. Especially when he helps you in the beginning.

Same with Tohma. Look at this guy. One of his voicelines is him offering to share his lunch with you then assuring you it's not poisoned. You aren't supposed to say that if you're not suspicious! His profile makes him sound suspicious!! He is WALKING SUSPICIOUS GUY.

Speaking of these two, knowing Haku is ex-frostheim. . .remember the gossiping frostheim girls in the beginning?

You think they're talking about Haku? If so, the "creepy forest" being Hotarubi might make sense(although Obscuary sounds more accurate for "creepy forest" given Hotarubi is a big traditional Japanese garden where it always rains, not a forest? I mean they probably have forests though so.)

Back on the subject of that campus chat, in Japanese what Tohma says is 「ここに、横車の取り扱いがあれば良かったのですが……」 something like "I wish they dealt with cars driven sideways here"--"sideways car"(横車) being a word meaning "stubbornness"--it's something like "pushing a cart from the side instead of the front(even though it's an unreasonable thing to do)". Which either means that Tohma suspects Haku(and that the aforementioned disgrace that had him go to Hotarubi was something suspicious or damaging despite that Tohma helped him run away from it--or perhaps he wasn't helping him run away but instead moving him somewhere safer for everyone) or that Haku's behavior did more harm than good, and he's poking fun at him for it despite that he helped him escape the trouble he caused by getting him into Hotarubi and taking his place as Frostheim VC. Not necessarily to say that Haku is suspicious, but that he's difficult, perhaps

But yeah, I think Haku's part of the "find the spy" team and Leo's inadvertently getting himself involved as well. But maybe I'm reading too much into how suspicious he is and it is, in fact, supposed to be obviously Haku and he's not a big ol red herring.

As for why Haku went behind Vagastrom. . .clearly it wasn't to meet with Tohma, but perhaps to meet with Alan? Maybe he really does like cars and it's a coincidence? Plus his interest is "going on walks" so he really may have just wandered over there by chance tbh. . . . Haku can see ghosts and spirits and things, so maybe he followed something Tohma wouldn't be able to see there and, rather than explaining, said it was about the cars? His profile says he cleans up after other students often, maybe he was helping somebody in Hotarubi who was too scared to go to Vagastrom? Or maybe Tohma's trying to keep him in the dark about things relating to the spy because Tohma suspects/distrusts Haku after what happened before he left Frostheim, and he's trying to be nosy?

[rp-partnerfinder]

In search for a kindred spirit 🌹

... Let's try something different, shall we?

Aren't you tired of bland roleplays that only consist of one liners and smut? Or extensive, tedious paragraphs of nothing? What about partners that suddenly ghost you without any reason?

If so, look no further!

Creative spurts come out of nowhere, and the one I had came in the form of a longing for a story that would inspire in me the same kind of passion and intrigue I felt from the books I read many years ago, and probably also because of my great passion for D&D and fiction in general. That tenderness mixed with the right dose of wonder that once filled my mind with endless daydreams, stories and characters... If you get what I'm talking about, you'll be a perfect roleplay partner!

In short, I'm mainly looking for someone to be a huge nerd with 😅

Think of it as a detailed, long-term roleplay with everything a story needs to be good, and filled with all those things dorks like me go crazy for, like being emotionally invested in fictional events or even giving characters musical themes!

The standard setting would be a high fantasy one in whichever place our characters would fit the most, but nothing says we can't play modern, sci-fi etc. I'm but a human, and I admit that I've always been drawn to the concept of elegant Femme Fatale-like characters. Be it a kitsune, a vampire, a witch, a spirit or simply a woman, if the plot involves your character trying to my character's mind (and body~) through dubious means, consider me sold! A myriad of methods are possible: an intoxicating perfume, an aphrodisiac smoke blown in the face, a soothing voice to trap his mind, or a personal favorite of mine, long silky mesmerizing hair. Either to bind him or toss i his face, smothering him in a wave of softness and perfume ❤️

... But that's just me being weird. As long as it will keep both of us affectioned to the characters and constantly wanting to see where the story will go, I will call that a wonderful experience~

Further information about the characters I have available, along with various sheets and image references, will be discussed in private!

⚠️ Last thing to add, might be VERY important to know that I hate playing dominant roles, even though by now you probably already got that 🤭

And as a last treat, here's a little prompt to give an idea:

🌹

*The man's steps echoed through the forest, each one causing the veil of dried twigs and leaves to crackle under his feet. It were hours, or maybe even days that he was wandering aimlessly in those woods in search for the ancient artifact, but until then it seemed like all he did was walking in circles. The tediousness of his task was almost driving him crazy, and he was constantly on the verge of giving up for good, but for better or for worse his determination dictated him to continue*

*And then it happened. At first, it seemed almost like a mirage, likely given how thoroughly exhausted he was, but upon closer inspection the figure he saw moving amidst the foliage became more and more definite. From occasional glimpses of white and purple, he could then make out the outline of a body, a feminine one, and its erratic movements less and less dictated by chaos... It was a dance, performed by what would have been a normal woman hadn't it been for those long, luxurious white hair that elegantly flowed behind her and bounded with every step she took*

*Awestruck, he walked closer without even considering what to say, such was his curiosity, but be it for distraction or a deliberate choice, once he was just a couple of feet from her, she suddenly twirled, making her silken locks swipe right across his face. Upon impact, a cloud of velvety rose petals wafted from it, and the combined effects of its silken softness and flowery fragrance made his eyes flutter*

*From there, the world seemed to slow down*

🌹

What else to say? If this sounds like what you're looking for, and you too want a story to remember, interact with this post and I'll be right to you~!✨

[M4F, Looking for 18+ writing partners. 20M here, in GMT+2]

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[myhomeiswriting]

Goddess Flora the Fae of the Forest

Imagine: a young woman in a flowing white dress dashing through a forest. Is she a spirit you wonder? A ghost? Maybe a witch, running from her latest kill. If you believe such horrible stereotypes about witches who really were healers more than child-eaters, but don’t tell the villagers that. They told their children those awful stories to keep them safe in their beds at night and keep them from wandering in the woods. So why, then, has my spirit always longed to go wandering at night when I know it is most dangerous, but not because of witches, but because of the night creatures who can see you better in the dark than you will ever be able to see them. Or because of the ravine behind town that would be easy to walk and fall into at night due to a lack of visibility. We’ve always been most afraid of what we couldn’t see because without our eyes to tell us the truth, we must trust that the thing we don’t understand will have empathy for us, and children have always been told never to trust strangers. It’s no wonder that we live in a world that fears everything we can’t see, or that doesn’t look exactly like us. You grow up with ghost stories, you’re going to believe in ghosts. Same goes for racism and prejudice. I sought out ghost stories because I liked the idea of living on even in a corporeal form after death. The thing I feared the most as a child was death, because none of the adults could explain it to me. All they could tell me was that Jesus loved me and that if I believed in him with all my heart I would go to heaven when I died, but that never brought me any comfort, because what if I didn’t believe enough? What if I didn’t know how? No one could answer that question. To be honest, I’m not sure I ever asked it. Pretty sure I kept that one to myself because I knew there was never going to be a satisfying answer. So, I gave up on Jesus and his magical heaven around 14 years old and never really went back. I am still a heathen who prays when someone I know is in trouble with something I can’t help them with, because I need to do something, and I can’t say for certain if prayer doesn’t work. All I know is that I don’t believe in it myself, but that doesn’t mean anything really. Maybe it would really work better if I did believe in it, but I’ll never know because I’ll never believe. I believe in ghosts and demons, however, regardless of a lack of interest in God. I can believe in evil, what I cannot fathom is a benevolent god who sits on the sidelines and lets people suffer. That’s not a new idea, and I know that. I am not the first to struggle with accepting faith in a god who just let’s people die and be condemned to hell because they didn’t believe the right amount. I can accept belief in a healing power that exists in the rocks and stones and living flora. I can believe the world in which we live was made with certain magic meant to heal us and keep us alive, because I want to believe in that, because that speaks of active benevolence; the earth is a god I can believe in because it’s natural and kind and there for everyone whether they are believers or not. One does not have to believe a crystal can have healing properties and still be positively affected by its power without even knowing it. That belief is harmless, but believing God told you homosexuality is wrong is dangerous and detrimental to society at large, and specifically a select group of that society then has to live in fear that you’ll come for them in the night to burn them at the stake or stone them to death. What did you imagine when I asked you to imagine a woman in a white dress running through the woods? Was she white? In her 20s? a crystal-loving hippie? What stereotypes did you assign her? Because that’s my point: Look at your prejudice; you have them even if you don’t think you do.

[thetimberhearts]

Shepherding, Part 3

In which Fargon and Hyla figure out how to talk to spirits.

This was no earth elemental; this was a timber spirit. Hyla became acutely aware of this as her axe came up and cut through its face, and she almost dropped her axe as it fell back, green light spilling from its wound.

‘Spirits preserve us!’ she gasped. ‘I am so sorry.’ She was on the verge of tears as Dregorda got to her feet, staring at her slack-jawed.

‘Hey, it tried to kill us,’ she said. ‘Only fair we return the favour.’ She started forward, but Hyla grabbed her shirt and pulled her back.

‘Everyone wait!’ she yelled. She stood, putting her axe away. Fargon was getting to his feet, covered in dirt and worms. Tilt was near the hole in the fence, at once trying to stop the sheep wandering out and drawing back on her bow.

‘This is a forest spirit,’ Hyla explained. ‘If we kill it, we injure the forest - I’m not sure that’s a good idea.’

‘Alright,’ Dregorda replied, ‘but if we let it live it’ll keep stealing the sheep. I’m all in favour of taking it down permanently!’

‘That’s not our call!’ Hyla protested. ‘We need to return through this forest. If we do it harm it’ll pay us back in kind, and I’m not keen on dying because we took down a sacred tree folk.’

‘I dunno,’ Fargon said. ‘I just got hit by a wave of dirt, I’m on Dregorda’s side here. I’m gonna burn this sucker.’

‘Will all of you just stop for a minute and help me with these sheep!’

They turned. Tilt was currently leaving grooves in the dirt as she dug in her heels against a ram which was gently but steadily pushing her towards them. The other sheep were following on, all apparently keen to be out of the field. Hyla and Dregorda felt something barge past them, and Dregorda began to protest, but the tree creature was walking to meet the sheep. It held out a hand, and shoots began to grow from its palm - the sheep nibbled at them contentedly, and it began to walk into the forest.

‘Hang on!’ Hyla cried, interposing herself between it and the trees. She held out her hands and began to sign to it as she spoke: ‘the owner of these sheep is mad that they keep disappearing at night. We want to know why, and we want you to stop stealing them. Understand?’

The tree folk cocked its head to one side, unheeding to the nudging of the sheep. It raised its hands and signed, stronger and more emphatically. Hyla watched, mouth tracing sentences for a moment before she stared, confused.

‘I hate to say this,’ she said, ‘but I don’t understand this thing’s dialect. We need another way to talk to this spirit.’ It tried to move past her and she jumped in the way, looking to the others for help. Dregorda shrugged. Tilt was now atop the ram’s head, staring backwards as it walked ahead.

‘I might be able to,’ Fargon said. ‘But it’s... risky.’

‘...Alright,’ Hyla said. ‘We’ll follow him for now. Let’s at least find out where he’s taking these things.’

-

‘What’s so risky about talking to it?’ Hyla asked Fargon as they followed the spirit. It paid little heed to them as it wove its way through the trees, the roots obligingly flattening its path as it went.

‘There’s always a risk when magic is involved,’ Fargon whispered. ‘It could backfire, or it could work too well - I could get stuck inside the thing’s head or it could get stuck in mine!’

‘Neither of those is ideal,’ Hyla muttered.

‘And even if it works perfectly,’ Fargon continued, ‘we’d have no filter. Or I wouldn’t - I don’t know about spirits and their attunement to magic, but I’d essentially be... sharing my mind with it? I dunno, it’d be tricky. If I even think something it dislikes it could mean hostilities.’

‘So we’d have little control over how it happened, and even if it worked we’d have little control over what we said?’ She looked at the back of the thing’s head, thoughts working through her mind.

'Maybe? It's... even more complex than that,' Fargon said. 'But if no other option presents itself, I'll try it.'

'Well be prepared,' Hyla said. 'I think we're coming up on the clearing - we're about to find out why the forest is stealing sheep.'

The tree elemental had stopped as the forest opened out into another large, clear area. The Timberhearts followed it in, behind the press of sheep which fanned out and resumed nibbling on the verdant grass. Others took a drink from the small pool which rippled at the foot of a great tree.

A tree which then moved.

All of the trees in the clearing moved in response to the entrance of the sheep; they curled in close, some drooping branches low to caress their woolen coats, others sprouting shoots around head height which the beasts would turn to chomp with idle comfort.

‘Ohhhh spirits,’ Fargon murmured.

‘It’s not just one elemental,’ Hyla said. ‘It’s a whole copse of them!’

-

Dregorda and Tilt spent the next hour sitting in the branches of these trees, while Hyla and Fargon argued quietly below. Tilt pulled leaves from her tree and leaned down to try and entice the sheep to look up.

Dregorda had attempted to negotiate a peace between the two of them earlier, but it had led to raised voices. Fargon didn’t know the consequences of using his powers to communicate with these things; Hyla didn’t want to give up and let the sheep just stay here.

‘Surely there’s another way?’ Dregorda asked. ‘I mean, maybe one of these trees speaks our dialect of spirit-speak?’

‘We’ll get nothing done if I have to interpret the words of spirits I barely understand!’ Hyla grumbled. ‘I need Fargon to talk with them.’

‘And I told you, I’m not risking my brain leaking outta my ears!’ Fargon snapped.

‘Well one of us has to!’ Hyla yelled, loud enough that the trees paused to stare at them with faceless trunks, and the ambulatory spirit moved to a combative stance. The time between was spent having a similar conversation, several times over, in hushed tones.

Tilt giggled as her tree shook in irritation, bursting a bloom of leaves where she’d been pulling them from the branches. Dregorda huffed a laugh and leaned back, closing her eyes.

‘Hey, why doesn’t Fargon just go into Hyla’s mind?’ Tilt asked. Dregorda opened her eyes.

‘I don’t... would that work?’ she sat up, running it through. ‘Then what’s going on? He’s just seeing what Hyla’s seeing. But he can’t interpret for Hyla.’

‘Well can he link a tree’s mind with Hyla’s too? Then Hyla’s the bridge between them, and Fargon doesn’t need to risk his brain turning to goop.’

Dregorda leaned down, grabbing a lower branch and swinging herself to the floor. She approached the bickering pair and tapped Hyla on the shoulder.

‘Hey. Tilt’s just given me an idea. Can I run it by the two of you?’

‘I’m not going into a spirit’s mind,’ Fargon repeated.

‘You might not have to,’ Dregorda said. She relayed the plan; Fargon rubbed his chin and paced back and forth as he thought it over.

‘It’s trickier, sure,’ he noted. ‘Dangerous for Hyla, perhaps - would you be okay with that, acting as a bridge? You’d be dealing with two minds, but I’d only be a passenger. I’ll just facilitate the connection.’

‘What are the potential problems?’ Hyla asked. ‘You were worried about being stuck in a tree before - could you get stuck in my head?’ She visibly grimaced at the thought.

‘Unlikely. Human minds are easy, it’s the same scale as mine - no chance of getting lost in there. Not that I’m calling you small-minded!’ Fargon added, seeing Hyla’s glare. ‘Spirits are ancient things - their minds cover miles. I’d be worried about you getting lost, but if I’m acting as a tether...’

‘Then you can always fish me back!’ Hyla finished triumphantly. ‘Brilliant! Okay, if you can interpret for me, I can talk to it.’

Fargon looked at Dregorda, then back at Hyla.

‘Are you sure about this?’ he asked. Hyla nodded.

‘We made a promise to Brye,’ she said. ‘Hook me up, wizard boy - I’m gonna talk to these trees!’

-

It took several minutes for Hyla to convey the idea to the tree spirit in her pidgin sign language - it signed back once or twice, emphatically, but in the end it nodded in understanding and joined her and Fargon.

They sat cross-legged in the middle of the clearing. Fargon glowered at the sheep which bleated around him.

‘You know,’ he said, ‘this would be a lot easier without so many distractions around.’

‘We don’t pick where we do this, Fargon,’ Hyla sighed. ‘Let’s at least make it quick - you’ve got me freaked out about this thing getting stuck in my mind, I’d like to get it over with.’

‘Alright, fine. Close your eyes.’ Hyla did so, and he followed suit. ‘Take a deep breath,’ he added. And as she did, she felt the space around her pinching...

‘You can open your eyes now.’

Hyla opened her eyes.

She was standing on a plain of grass, a meadow which sparkled with wildflowers in all the colours of gemstones. Fargon stood opposite her.

‘...this is a tree spirit’s mind?’ she asked uncertainly. Fargon tutted.

‘This is my mind,’ he said. ‘I brought you here first, before I link us up to the spirit. Just jumping straight into a mind like that can be dangerous - like staring straight down into deep ocean.’

Hyla looked around, seemingly admiring the space.

‘Kinda empty in here, isn’t it?’ she said, with a wry grin.

‘Hey!’ Fargon cried. ‘Do you want my help or not?’

‘Sorry, sorry!’ Hyla held her hands up placatingly. ‘Alright Fargon - what else do we need to do?’

‘I just need to warn you: what you’re seeing here is a merest fraction of a mind. Because I have the control to show you only what I want you to see. I’m going to be doing that for the spirit, so it doesn’t see everything in your head - we’ve known each other long enough, I’m sure you don’t have any problems with me going through your memories.’

‘So you’ll be puppeting me this whole time?’

‘No, I’ll just be editing what you show to the spirit. It’ll get a controlled version of you, rather than the whole thing. Rather than getting impressions from your subconscious, it’ll be getting pure conscious.’

Hyla strode around the meadow as she pondered this, kicking up flowers and clods of dirt.

‘It’s tricky,’ she mused. ‘On the one hand, we need to talk to this spirit; on the other, I don’t really relish you going through my subconscious while I try to negotiate with it.’

‘Last chance to back out,’ Fargon warned. ‘Is my looking in your head too big a price to stop this thing?’

Hyla planted herself and shook her head.

‘You’re right, Fargon - that’s no choice at all. Bring in the spirit; it’s time to talk.’

[sunlit-gully]

Hi there, its Athena. Welcome to my new Thursday Ask-A-Thon where its basically a Thursday version of my Sunday Ask-A-Thon where I ask ya'll about your wips: Has there been any major changes in a character in terms of how you created them, to how they turned out as the wip went on?

hi again Athena.

Well, definitely! My two most fleshed out WIPs has gone through at least 4 pivotal changes, each. I'll go with Anthologia Sovietica.

Medea Kurauli was originally a guy called Malkhaz Artsividze. However, because I changed her backstory from a regular Tbilisi urbanite guy to a Khevsur highlander, I had to change her name as well as her surname ending to fit the background (-uri/uli suffixes in Georgian surnames are a great bet that the bearers come from the Northeast highlands). Also, her missing-in-action period was originally much more vague - at the beginning I just thought she'd get ping-ponged between various captors before somehow finally meeting her crush postwar. Oh well, the Vrba-Wetzler Report and the Red Orchestra gave me some nasty, but necessary ideas to sketch out an alternative. One more thing, I originally intended her to have only one birth kid with Mykola aside from Lev, but the more I thought about it the sooner I realised that those two pining idiots would definitely not keep their hands off each other. So, four birth kids it is.

Mykola Sokolenko was originally a girl called Maria Kogut. However, the name didn't hit me the right way - I had always envisioned the character's personality as fierce and elegant at the same time and Maria just wasn't what I had in mind. Also, I changed his backstory from just a nondescript Ukrainian peasant girl into a half-Jewish Cossack boy (I somewhat blame the influence on Tommy Shelby). The assault on his mother by a Cossack was there since the beginning, but I never connected it to a pogrom till I read about Fastiv. And after some obsessive repetitions of the Seventeen Moments of Spring soundtrack on piano I decided that giving Mykola a job in KGB would be very very fitting, actually.

Lev was originally just some random Jewish kid wandering in a nondescript Polish forest in a constant state of fatigue and hunger during the War, but then I got some fridge brilliance and thought 'oy, he can be the catalyst to Mykola and Medea's union!' So I gave him a much more active role; he evaded the Germans and the concentration camps, followed the nearest Soviet division he could find around till they gave up and let him be their scout, and eventually got trusted with establishing connections with local sympathisers because he could speak Polish and German fluently (this boy is fluent in 4 languages by the time he reached the age of 15 he is a chad alright). Note the last part: that's how Mykola found Medea.

Rusudan was originally supposed to be a nurse, following her mother's medical career. However, after some thinking I realised that her flippant, adventurous spirit would definitely feel stifled by the rather rigid hierarchy and heavy workload of the major Soviet hospitals, so instead I let her become a wildlife biologist. That way Rusudan got to be the cool science lady she deserved to be. Shame that her death turned out to be very early and tragic...

Lasha and Mykyta were actually last-minute additions. I was kinda on a whim and wanted to see how far the Sokolenko kids could travel and settle. The answer is very; Lasha ended up a cool lone ranger sort of ethnologist in the Caucasus, while Mykyta ended up following his dad's spying career but worked in a different department (Mykola was in the 3rd Department, his son in the 7th). I also gave them a sweet tooth and unnatural hunger for roasted meat of any kind, like their mother, as well as a love for horseriding, like their father.

[littledanette]

Hello!! Yes so I have completely fallen in love with Wil and the whole Shannara series. I am shocked by the lack of fanfic on ao3/ff.net, especially regarding Wil in particular. There’s just so much material there imo. I am not fond of reader x character fics or smut, but I love backstory, h/c, soft fics, and character development fics. If these are not anything you write, I totally understand!! I just wanted to put in a request for anything along those lines, for what it’s worth :) Wil is just so sweet and caring, and he has so much courage! I love him. Thanks for your offer to take requests and for taking the time to read this!

Hello darling, and thank you for your message! 💜

I thought I’d start off with your request just to metaphorically test the waters with writing for our beloved Wil. 

Everyone, please bear in mind i saw both seasons of Shannara and am currently re-watching season 1, but since it’s a very complex world, forgive me if I still mess up a few details, write something non-canon, or mix up some canon facts. 

Anyway, here are a few random HC’s for our favorite half elf….

WIL OHMSFORD HCS

He grew up mostly with his mother. He still worshipped his father like a hero, but we all know what a complicated character he was. And since Wil had no idea about his family’s history, when he was little he started thinking his father wasn’t around much / started drinking / got into trouble because he didn’t fully enjoy or want his family life. It hurt him to think that, but he still tried to make the best of the few precious moments he shared with his dad.

Because of his upbringing, Wil started to rely almost entirely on his mother. They had a very profound emotional bond, and we know her death left a scar in his heart that never really healed. 

Also thanks to his mother, Wil learned to respect and admire women, especially those with a strong spirit and a loving heart.

He has a very deep sense of protection towards the women he loves, but he also craves the motherly attention and love that was so brutally ripped away from him. 

He’s not as naive as he might seem - think of him at the beginning of Season 1. He just wants to search for the best in even the worst situation and he tries to see the good in everyone. He’s actually extremely anxious and afraid of what he doesn’t know, so he also tries to encourage himself by keeping an open mind and heart towards the world. 

He was quite lonely growing up because being a half elf meant that a lot of the other children weren’t very nice or welcoming to him. He got called names and made fun of, especially for his ears, which he became extremely self conscious about. But back then he was always too gentle to react or lash out, so he’d usually end up isolating himself instead of picking up a fight. He’d wander around exploring the little forest surrounding Shady Vale, or go visit his uncle, or stop by to watch the Healers work in their village quarters. He never really held a grudge towards the kids that were mean to him, but sometimes he did wish he had a friend he could talk to. 

He felt safe and at home in Shady Vale, but he secretly longed to leave it behind and go explore the world. He never allowed himself to fully embrace that pull towards the unknown…. Until he was forced to, by the events we all know. 

He is very empathic and often gets overwhelmed by his own emotions. This is why sometimes he’ll be too impulsive or make a ‘dumb’ decision. He hates himself when he messes things up, especially if someone else gets hurt (emotionally or otherwise) because of it. 

He doesn’t want to admit it but since the first moment Allannon first revealed the story of his father, the Elfstones and his destiny, Wil started feeling as though a huge weight had been lifted from his chest. Sure, he was terrified and confused, but suddenly so many things about his life made sense to him, and feeling as though he had a higher purpose actually started bringing out his most authentic self. 

This also meant bringing out his courage. Wil has actually been brave his entire life, but he always assumed that just meant doing the right thing and caring about the people he loves. The quest for Safehold finally allows him to discover just how brave and daring he can actually be. 

On the downside, he can be quite moody and difficult to deal with when he’s in a bad mood. There’s a lot of unresolved anger and frustration buried deep inside him. The dark side of learning how to use the Elfstones meant having those feelings start to surface from time to time. It won’t happen often, but sometimes he’ll lash out unexpectedly, breaking something or taking his anger out using his sword against some unanimated object. 

His tendency to isolate is another one of his flaws. As much as he craves love and affection, he’s also extremely sensitive to whatever might make him feel unwanted or rejected. He’ll quite literally disappear from everyone if that happens until the feeling fades away. 

His favorite season is autumn. He loves the colours of the leaves and the crisp air, not to mention spending the chilly evenings outside by a campfire or looking at the stars. 

He’s loyal to the core. Once he knows he can trust you, he will always have your back and defend you with his life.

A FEW ROMANTIC HC’s 💜

feel free to skip them if they’re not your cup of tea….

First things first, because I feel this needs to be said: he’s an amazing kisser. You can’t fool me, those lips were made to kiss and he knows it very well.

That’s also why he really, really loves giving kisses. It’s one of his favorite gestures of intimacy, whether it be passionate kisses that take your breath away or little loving kisses all across your face. 

He is extremely touch-starved. That’s obviously because he had to learn to live with loneliness at such a young age. He’s very shy at first, but once he starts feeling more comfortable around someone he’ll grow close to them very quickly and likes to express that with physical touch. After all he probably wouldn’t have wanted to be a Healer if touch didn’t resonate with him as his primary love language, right?

Speaking of that, he loves hugging the people he cares about. But he also wants to be held and reassured, especially when he’s feeling particularly alone. Sometimes falling asleep in his partner’s arms is the only way for him to finally relax and let his guard down. 

He falls in love very easily, but his emotions are also quite fleeting and sometimes very intense to deal with. 

His sex drive isn’t insanely high, but once he starts having feelings for someone he’ll crave being intimate with them even if it just means falling asleep with his arms around them, or holding hands while taking a walk, or spending time cuddling in peace while watching the sunset. 

He’s a romantic at heart, even though he can be quite awkward at first. He loves giving little presents, courting, and genuinely giving his attention and time to someone he cares about. 

He always dreamed of getting married young and have a family of his own, probably to subconsciously heal the family wounds he holds in his heart. 

His loyalty shows in his romantic relationships as well: although his emotions can sometimes be all over the place, once he choses a partner for good, there is nobody else in the world for him. 

He believes in soulmates.

He is extremely protective, sometimes becoming slightly too aggressive if he senses anyone or anything might be a threat or even a slight annoyance to his partner. 

Ironically enough, his weakness is - yup, you guessed it - his ears. Kisses, nips and little bites will immediately make his knees go weak and his restraints vanish into thin air. 

Remember how I said he’s initially shy and awkward? Yeah, that all goes out the window once he knows he can trust you as his partner and starts having feelings for you. He might not have the highest sex drive, but when he does get in the mood…. You’re always in for a very, very long and ecstatic night… A lover boy, indeed!

Hope you enjoyed these! 💋

[blzzrdstryr]

Prima materia

Yandere!Kaeya & Yandere!Albedo x gn!reader

Wordcount: 4156

CW: Yandere themes, mentions of violence, death and NSFW

An angel.

That’s what Kaeya thinks when he sees you - he’s far from being a religious person, yet this word appears in his mind, vivid and burning, pushing out any other thought away. He stands here, starstruck and unsure what to do, devouring your visage with his eye alone.

Your first meeting is incidental - he walks around the Mondstadt, looking for the leads for the recent mass disappearance case. An alarming number of people went missing right before the Windrise festival. All are destitute alcoholics with no real importance, all except one - Javier Lawrence, who in this case is a rich alcoholic, and a reason why investigation even started. Mondstadt may be a nation of freedom, yet money and status still dominate most of its social dynamics.

Kaeya goes to Eula first - Javier was her twice removed cousin after all, she ought to know something. The spindrift knight is restrained in her speech, careful not to insult her missing relative, despite the deepening frown. She says almost nothing new, stating that Javier had a passion for drinking and wasting his days away, she also mentions his favourite places to wander while drunk - gardens, plaza and the forest outside the city.

Visits to the first two bear no fruits - Kaeya doesn’t find any eyewitnesses, but hears tons upon the tons of complaints and insults directed at the missing, so he heads for the forest, expecting to find the mangled body among the heaps of green leaves - being drunk in the forest deep is never a good idea, yet he finds none. He stumbles upon you instead.

You sit among the wild flowers and bitter herbs, head bowed, closely inspecting the plants in your hands and humming a light tune as you do so. There’s a certain serenity about you, some kind of magical elegance radiating off of every movement, it’s deliberate, yet relaxed. You remind him of the forest nymph from the paintings he saw - celestial and seductive, and totally unaware of the effect you have on him.

This feeling is further exacerbated by the simple white shirt you're wearing - the material is thin and half-transparent, already revealing the outline of your torso. Kaeya gulps when he imagines it getting wet and clinging to your body, your skin and nipples showing through the flimsy fabric. The only thing that spoils this otherwise perfect sight are small dark bruises both hands, blooming like two ominous roses.

“Hello”, he finally suppresses lustful urges and steps closer, distracting you from the herb picking. “My name’s Kaeya Alberich, I am the cavalry captain of the Knight of Favonius, and I want you to answer a couple of my questions”.

You turn unnaturally still upon hearing his voice, hands squeezing the plants, even your breathing is impossible to hear. You are terrified. Kaeya turns his head to the side at this picture, eyebrows raised - this is… a very interesting reaction.

“I am sorry, I am not allowed to talk to strangers”, you say, finally collecting yourself and raising your head to meet his eye, and Kaeya finds himself struck again.

Stars.

You have star-shaped pupils. Just like him.

He makes a step again, back this time, as his chest starts to rise and fall faster, breathing accelerating. Why do you have these eyes? He thought he was the only one left…

“Sir Kaeya, what brings you here?”he hears a familiar voice. Albedo comes from the forest deep, quickly striding to him and then stopping between you and the cavalry captain. Alchemist's face remains indifferent and his tone impassive, yet through the haze of confusion and shock Kaeya still notes how he protectively put himself between you two, as if shielding you from his gaze.

“Investigation. I thought asking… this lovely person a couple of questions might help solve the case”, he flashes one of his most charming smiles to Albedo, who predictably remains apathetic towards such displays. You, on the other hand, still sit on the forest ground and have your eyes shifting between Kaeya and Albedo, with fear and hope respectively.

“I am afraid you won’t find any answers here. They are under my care, and they don’t know anything about whatever your case is”. Albedo’s voice still remains polite, but Kaeya can taste the hidden hostility, he almost backs off from surprise.

“Well, that’s unfortunate”, he admits defeat and puts on a smile again - it’s a colder one this time, less genuine - and turns on his heels, throwing “have a nice day” as the afterthought, insides burning with the strange mix of disappointment and resentment.

He almost leaves the forest, as he hears Albedo talking to you: “It’s alright, [First], I won't punish you for speaking to him, he asked you first”. You reply something, but Kaeya is too far to make out any of your lovely voice, yet the things he witnessed today are enough to spawn a horde of questions.

Why does Albedo act so possessive? Why do you allow him to do so? What connects you two together? And most importantly: Who are you?

Thousand different theories fleet through his mind, as he mulls over new information. He doesn’t come back to that place, despite his curiosity nagging him to do so, he can’t - Kaeya is now acutely aware of the power Albedo seems to hold over you and returning might anger the alchemist.

Cavalry captain returns to the case of missing people, yet his mind continues to wander off, thought returning to your face and voice and body and the colossal mystery cloaking you.

***

Investigation progresses unbelievably slowly - if he was a gullible person, Kaeya would’ve thought that all of the missing just vanished into thin air - no leads, no traces, not a single clue of what might have happened, leaving the knights with nothing but straws to grasp at. To add to the severity of the situation after a week of receiving the case from Jean, Kaeya is notified about the new disappearance of two other people - Joachim and Luckas. They’re also a pair of alcoholics, the first one was last seen around the Angel’s Share, the second one was heading for the Dragonspine.

Kaeya goes to the said tavern - at first he just talks with the patrons, effortlessly fishing out the information about the missing person, which brings nothing new (again), then he gets a bit bored with drunk-interrogating others and decides to ask Diluc what he might’ve seen. And that also reveals nothing new (again) - Joachim has visited the tavern, ordered some wine and after a couple of bottles downed, left. Nothing extraordinary or groundbreaking, just a day of another Mondstadtian drunkard.

It seems that he isn’t destined to find whatever spirited Joachim away, so Kaeya leaves the city heading for the snowy mountain in the distance. He asks around the adventurers camp near the ruined tower, only to hear that Luckas was seen around the mountain.

Kaeya walks to the Dragonspine, already feeling the chill at the foot of the mountain, and his determination slowly melts - Dragonspine is one big freezing hellhole, full of monsters and Fatuis who for some reason decided to reside here, yet one particular face appears in his mind. Seeing you again might be worth the whole trouble - he noticed you a couple of times, always in the company of the certain alchemist, so if Albedo is in his camp, then you’re most likely there too.

Now inspired Kaeya quickly traverses the mountain, skillfully avoiding the hilichurl tribes and skirmishes altogether. After a short, yet frankly gruelling travel he finds himself finally arriving at the camp, your figure seen from the entrance. You sit near the alchemical device, tightly bundled up in layers upon layers of warm clothes, a book in your hands with no Albedo in sight. The alchemical apparatus is on, dyeing the whole room into scarlet shades, something red boiling inside of it, filling the air with the strange metallic scent. “Recent history of Teyvat”, Kaeya reads the cover and takes a step in. You remain still, too engrossed in reading to hear his footsteps, which he uses to take another good look at you.

Your face still looks lovely as it was on that day, yet there’s now a strong aura of frailness present - a greyish undertone of the skin, dry, chapped lips, pinkish-red rims blooming on your eyes, duller hair, even the fingers holding the books appear to be thinner. You look emaciated and exhausted, you must be sick.

“Hello”, Kaeya decides to pop the bubble of tranquility again - you quickly lift your head to look at him and almost drop the book: “We met before, in the forest, remember? I am here because of an investigation”.

“I am sorry, but I don’t think I can be of any help and I am still not allowed to talk to strangers”, you say and return to reading, pretending that he isn’t here.

“Well, that means we can introduce ourselves, so we won’t be strangers anymore and you will be able to talk to me without breaking any rules, right? Hello! I am Kaeya Alberich and I work as cavalry captain in the Knights of Favonius, pleased to meet you!”, he puts on his warmest smile and outstretches his hand to shake yours.

“I am not sure that this is a good idea, Albedo warned me to avoid outsiders”, you say, looking uneasy, as you throw a quick glance, past Kaeya, to the entrance of the camp.

“Albedo and I are coworkers, we both even had to work on some missions together, sure he doesn’t think of me as some outsider”.

“If you say so”, you sigh and cave in, your palm finally touching his. Kaeya feels the corners of his lips creeping up at the sensation, his heart skipping a beat or two: “I am [First} and I am… Albedo’s ward, pleased to meet you too”

“Now with introductions done, can I ask you a question?”, he takes another step and you nod - a step more and he might feel the warmth radiating off of your body, or hear your faint breathing, or smell your scent.

“Where are you from?”, your eyes widen at that. Kaeya finds himself almost hypnotized by this sight: the stars in your eyes shine with a renewed strength, the pale sunlight bringing out their warmth and radiance.

“I don’t really remember”, you admit, voice quiet and small: “Albedo says he found…”

“I discovered [First] in the heart of the mountain”, alchemist ends it for you, standing at the entrance of his camp with both of his assistants by the side, hands occupied by the local flora.

“Timaeus, sort and prepare ingredients”, he hands the herbs to the man: “Sucrose, you check up on [First] and give them.. the medicine, don’t worry I’ll just talk to sir Kaeya there”, Timaeus and Sucrose rush to the assigned task, with the latter taking out a red vial from the alchemical drawer, the liquid inside shimmering and glowing with an unnatural glitter. The last part is said to you, as alchemist gestures for the cavalry captain to go outside, quickly leaving the room.

Kaeya follows him as they both leave the camp - Albedo walks unusually quickly, not looking around even once to check if he’s still behind, and only when the both of them leave the camp far enough - so far that you, Timaeus and Sucrose turn into a small dots does he stop.

“What do you need? Why did you interrogate [First]?”, Albedo says, skipping all of the courtesies. His voice remains neutral, but Kaeya can feel the displeasure - it radiates off of his pose and faster speech, how Kreideprinz’s disinterested eyes suddenly turned cold and piercing.

“Easy, easy”, Kaeya half-laughs, raising his hands in mock defence: “interrogate is a strong word here, we two just had a friendly chat”.

Teal eyes narrow at this whimsical answer and alchemist’s face sours: “Leave [First] alone”, he voices, darkly and angrily - Kaeya almost backs off from surprise - it’s quite unusual to see Albedo express his disdain so freely and openly, yet he replies in the same carefree tone:

“I won’t, not until you say where they’re from at least. [First] has star-shaped pupils, we both know what it means”.

“I already have said that - I found [First] deep underneath the mountain, completely frozen. Cold must have trapped them in the ice and preserved their body for all these years, yet it also damaged their memory. They seem to be unaware of what happened to your homeland five hundred years ago, nor do they have any idea of the present world". Kaeya intently observes Albedo as he says that - alchemist is certainly hiding something.

"That's how.. Well, I wish [First] good luck in retrieving their memories", he decides not to press further - Albedo is already in a bad mood and won't tolerate him fishing for more information, nor will the alchemist agree to share what he hides. Kaeya asks him a couple of questions pertaining to the missing person and he gets the expected answer - Luckas wasn't seen by Albedo or any of his assistants either. Alchemist says it a bit quicker than he usually talks, Kaeya chalks it up to annoyance.

***

The first useful lead appears after the third disappearance this month - Masha Haedle, who was characterized as hardworking and passionate, yet troubled by her alcohol addiction, vanished on the way to her job. Her employer sent one letter after another, demanding her to visit her workplace, lest she will be fired. Haedle didn’t answer any of the messages, nor was she spotted anywhere in the next few days.

It was her concerned neighbours who notified the knights, who quickly connected her disappearance to the series of other missing cases and Kaeya was dispatched again - he decided to start by investigating her house and he was right in doing so.

Her place is barren, but tidy, Haedle's diligence and financial issues shining through the simple interior. Kaeya strides among the neatly cleaned house until he enters a small bedroom.

Unlike the rest of the place, the bed here is undone, sheets lay messily across the nightstand and floor, with a couple of plant pots knocked over, dry soil sprawled everywhere. He comes closer to this picture, taking in the small details - there's a trace of fingernails on the wood, as if the victim was latching onto the furniture as she was dragged back, a part of the sheets is actually burnt, with a small candle crushed on the floor - it could be knocked down when kidnapper attacked Masha, and the most glaring piece - an orange dimly glowing crystal.

It crumbles and disintegrates the same second Kaeya picks it up, but this short moment is enough to feel the warmth radiating off of it - it's a geo crystal, formed by the reaction with pyro.

Whoever attacked miss Haedle was using a geo vision to put out the fire, and might also be the reason of other disappearances. After all, a vision user kidnapping the drunkards is just as nonsensical as said drunks just vanishing into thin air, leaving nothing behind.

***

Mondstadt embraces the Windrise festival with the same warmth it always did, as citizens of all sorts start to prepare for the coming festivities. Some decorate their houses with dried and paper flowers that they consider anemones, others stock up on both sweets and wine, no doubt for a celebratory dinner, bards recite the new songs, praising the anemo archon and caroling the freedom that Barbatos gave them, and knights, both high and low ranks alike are piled with even more work.

Kaeya finds himself temporarily dispatched from the dead-end investigation, tasked to look out for any suspicious persons and possible lawbreakers, as a horde of tourists and traders flooded the city. He spends the entire day working, and catches a breather once the sun starts to set. This break, however, is swiftly interrupted, when Jean summons him, asking to deliver some messages to Albedo for the lack of workforce.

Unsurprisingly, the alchemist spends his time outside of the city in a temporary camp, preferring the fresh air and forest landscape to the human loudness and cheer. He finds you alone again, with Albedo nowhere to be seen. Seems that whatever disease has plagued you started to back off - your tone is still far from healthy, yet it stopped being so ashy and grey like the first time, and your starry eyes no longer look like you’ve cried all night non-stop.

You stand near the table, slowly sorting the alchemical compounds, with both sleeves rolled up, exposing the delicate, elegant wrists and the old bruising on the forearms. The setting sun almost lights your visage on fire - you look brighter, more vivid, than you did under the pale Dragonspine sun or the cool shadow of the forest. You look like you glow too.

Even with the fatigue, he still smiles - ah, you’re so easy on the eyes, he rests just by looking at you..

“Hello”, he approaches, distracting you from your task for the third time: “is Albedo here?”.

“He left some time ago, he wanted to sketch hilichurl tribe. Said it’s too dangerous for me, so I am just standing here, waiting for him”, Kaeya can sense a mild disappointment coming from you, which is not surprising - spending your time in the wilderness, while the city before you is set ablaze in the celebration can frustrate anyone. He gets an idea.

“I see you want to see the Windrise for yourself, am I right?”, your affirmative nod, “How about I accompany you to Mondstadt and we both have some fun?”.

“I would really want to, but Albedo asked me to stay here. I don’t want to disappoint him”, you reply, the hesitation in your voice clear as day.

“And you won't!”Kaeya retorts: “I will take all the blame, say that I spirited you away with my persuasion skills”, he adds dramatically and outstretches his palm in a theatrical gesture. You giggle at that, obviously entertained by his antics.

“Alright, you’ve convinced me”, you take his hand, before asking: “this is why you came? To invite me to a festival?”

Oh, he forgot about messages.

Kaeya leaves them in the secure box you pointed to, before taking your hand again and almost running back to Monstadt. Something tells him that Albedo will be livid once he returns to the now empty camp.

***

“Oh gods”, you gasp, looking at the burst of colors exploding in the night sky - some travelers have brought fireworks from Liyue and Inazuma and decided to set them off, creating a breathtaking scenery. Kaeya even forgets how to breathe, but not because of the fireworks, but you - you look so excited and amazed, and all kinds of colours reflect from your eyes, the stars in them resembling two large diamonds. He’s ready to kill for this sight.

The next half an hour are spent with him following you, as you excitedly run from one thing or another - turns out Albedo didn’t allow you much outside time, so even the main streets of Mondstadt are novelty to you. He drinks in your reactions, all the faces and sounds you make are stored away in his memory as you get amazed by the simplest things.

In the end, he decides to take you to the Angel’s Share, you’re already so cute and he can’t imagine how much more adorable you’ll become all drunk and giggly. He orders a bottle of a young wine for you two - made from the spring dandelions, it’s taste is perfect for the atmosphere of Windrise - it tastes of freedom and adventure, the spirit of Mondstadt encapsulated into a beverage.

“It tastes nice”, you comment, taking a small sip, “it’s sweet but not too sweet”, before your face suddenly contorts from pain and you bend in half, hands clutching your abdomen.

“[First]? What’s happening, [First]?”Kaeya rushes to you, his hands stopping your fall. You mumble something incoherent, before going limp in his hold - you are unconscious. He shakes your form to wake you up, yet you don’t respond, inner panic slowly rising - what to do, what to do, what to do?

“Did you give alcohol to [First]?!”, suddenly someone hisses near him. It’s Albedo again and it’s the first time Kaeya sees him so angry. “We need to get [First] to my lab quickly. Every second counts”, Albedo helps him to lift you up and almost runs out from the tavern, pushing others away to make way for Kaeya and you in his hands.

“Put them here”, alchemist point to the big wooden table, quickly knocking over all empty flasks down, uncaring of the equipment he might break, as he rushes into the further part of the room, taking out the already on alchemical apparatus from the depths of his cabinets.

The strange red liquid slushes inside, as Albedo swiftly opens the top and adds some hideous mix of blood and pieces of flesh into the device, the reek of blood and alcohol permeating the air.

Kaeya wants to gag. “What’s this?”, he asks, not bothering to hide his disgust.

“Medicine”, Albedo quickly replies, teal eyes shifting from the mix to your sick face.

Over time the stench subsides, and apparatus starts to glow and shimmer with that scarlet radiance Kaeya saw in the Dragonspine camp, replacing the stink with the same strange coppery scent. Albedo takes out a glass vial from his pocket and connects it to the faucet of the apparatus, collecting the fat drops of the produced liquid.

Kaeya takes a good look at the product, mesmerized by the strange glitter and shimmer - it looks alive, and then suddenly everything clicks - the origin of medicine, the smell of alcohol coming from meat and even the disappearances of the drunkards. He remembers the tales his father used to tell him, about khemia and the wonders and horrors it could unleash - artificial humans, endless gold and…

“Philosopher’s stone”, he breathes out, utterly shocked by his revelation.

“How? How did you know”, Albedo looks at him with scared eyes, almost dropping the vial with “medicine”.

“Why?! Why did you do that?!”Kaeya yells instead of answering the question, still shocked and horrified, a taste of bile appearing on his tongue.

Alchemist seems unsure and totally lost for a good minute, as his usually calm face rapidly shifts between different emotions: sadness, shock, horror, shame and even anger, until finally resulting into the expression of total defeat: “It’s for [First]’s sake”, he tiredly admits the dark secret: “The frost has severely damaged their internal organs. I’ve been trying to heal them, but to no avail”.

“So you decided to break alchemical laws and create the elixir of life”, Kaeya grimly concludes, face scrunching up from disgust.

“Yes”, an unsettling lips makes its way onto the alchemist's lips as he lifts his head and looks captain right in the eye: “I’ve broken the laws, killed people and used their bodies. All to save [First]. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t do the same, I’ve seen how you stare at [First] and I know what you want to do with them”.

.Was he that obvious?

“I see”, Kaeya replies, sensing the growing headache and rubbing his temples: “I won’t tell others of what you’ve done”. He can’t just imprison Albedo and doom you to a slow, agonizing death.

“I knew you would agree with me”, alchemist sighs “[First] is getting healthier, they won’t need… medicine as often, yet their organs will never be in a top condition”.

“How many?”

“What?”

“How many people per year?”

Albedo turns quiet again, the creepy smile vanishing as quickly as it appeared, as his eyes adopt that contemplating look again.

“No more than three people. Once I fix that liver damage you gave [First] with your wine, they won’t need no more than three transfusions”, he says his verdict and Kaeya weighs his words - three missing people per year is a miniscule number.

“I make at most philosopher’s stones per year and you cover my tracks in exchange for time with [First]. Deal?”, Albedo extends his hand for a handshake and Kaeya takes it, yet doesn’t shake it, asking instead:

“Can I get to taste [First]?”, he smiles, remembering your face and imagining your body.

“If [First] consents to that, then yes”, Albedo becomes that inexpressive again, yet he can still feel the displeasure and indignation coming from alchemist’s answer.

“I am sure they will, I think they like me”, he finally shakes the other’s arm.

They sit in a silence for a while, before the vial gets completely filled by the “medicine” - Albedo takes out a syringe and injects the mixture into your bloodstream through the veins on the hands. Kaeya smiles even wider, looking how a healthy colour returns to your face - he can’t wait to reap the fruits of this agreement.

[vespertinefantasy]

People say that there is a demon living in the forest, and at night it wakes up to eat human flesh. I've never believed it but I've always stayed away from the forest at night, just in case.

Until today: this morning I made a stupid bet with my friends.

Let's go in the forest at night and undress, they said.

Let's be completely naked under the moon and let's see if we can summon the demon, they said.

Let's see if this demon is actually that terrible, they said.

We went in the forest and had a few beers, then we decided to get naked and danced for hours. I was expecting to have some fun with them, maybe even sexually, but then they all run away after hearing weird sounds. I run too, but I fell and I think I hit my head because everything was black for a while.

When I wake up again, I'm facing the sky and someone is watching me. No, not someone but something. The half naked body is that of a man but it has onyx black deer horns on its head. After realizing it, I try to get up again and run, but everything hurts, especially my ankle. It must be broken.

"Stupid humans," a soft, warm voice says, "You call spirits and then you get scared when we actually come. There's always someone who gets hurt."

I can't say anything, I just stare in silence, heart racing, I can't believe what I'm seeing and hearing. The thing lowers so that the face is closer to mine, and my mouth is wide open at this point. Now that the moon is lighting it, I can see that it... he is terrifying yet somehow beautiful: the eyes are completely black, just like the horns, and he such noble features, with a defined jawline. The skin is almost white, but with a green undertone to it, and the lips are a strange mixture of pink and green.

"Are you ok?" he asks, smiling, and I can just nod while thinking that the sound of his voice reminds me of moss. He's still staring at me, so at the end I get finally to speak. "No, actually. I think that my ankle is broken."

He smiles wider, and caresses my cheek, I feel his claws on my skin while he speaks: "Let me take you to a place where you can get better."

I nod, not really knowing why. This creature makes me feel safe somehow. He then picks me up as if I weight nothing and throws me over his shoulder. Only then I realize how tall he is and that his skin is as soft as moss in the morning (everything about him reminds me of moss, apparently). I let my hand wander on his muscular back and I realize that his skin is covered with something soft, almost feathery, which I can't figure out what it is. I let him take me to whatever place he feels like, only because I'm hurt and alcohol is apparently still in my blood, and not because he's probably the most beautiful being I've ever layed eyes on. Maybe, after all, the idea of summoning a demon wasn't that bad.

[minsyal]

The Fugitive (Finding Home), Pt. 1

Karl Heisenberg x Reader

Warnings: strong language, Resident Evil-esque violence and descriptions of gore, and dark/sexual themes

Summary: A once-in-a-lifetime trip turned dark. You're quickly exposed to the sinister and mysterious world of a cursed village under the control of dark leaders. How long will you last and will you ever return home in one piece?

Backpacking through Eastern Europe was not a top priority on your “to do” list. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Being one to preplan everything, you were completely caught off guard when your roommate sprung the idea of the trip out of the blue. You roommate, Jezebel Haine, was your first and only roommate from college onward. All legs, she was one of the stars of the track team but was most certainly not one of the brightest shining ones. She was considerably dim-witted, fanatical, and had a booming over-the-top personality that scared every potential boyfriend who had the disservice of meeting her. There were times, though, that she was rather endearing. Her childlike sense of self and emotional drivers consistently put her at a crossroads between what everyone else was doing and what she should be doing; she was, and always will be, a follower.

After four years of becoming “the bestest of friends,” you had a hard time imagining such a hard shift either into another roommate or living alone. Plus, her parents funded most everything she did and, in turn, funded the apartment the two of you shared.

“It’s an amazing opportunity!” She insisted, waving her hands in a simple manner as she rose from the condensed cushion of the leather-clad couch. “Think about it.” Gathering your hands in hers like a 20’s actress who had just met the man of her dreams, she pulled the bundle to her chest. “We frolic through the European countryside, it’s golden hour. My skin looks absolutely gorgeous… yours too, of course. The sun is just about to set, but alas!” She let out a dramatic gasp, removing one of her hands to cover her mouth. “It’s growing dark out!”

“That’s what happens when the sun sets.” You noted, causing her to drop the act for a moment only to immediately go back into character.

“We hear the crunching of leaves and twigs all around us as if something…” she drew close and lowered her voice to a whisper, “sinister is coming. Out of no where we’re ambushed! By what, I’m not sure. Then,” her eyes became glassy as she lay a delicate hand to her forehead, “two absolute studs… and I’m talking big bulging muscles, gorgeous trendy hair, captivating eyes… really everything a simple girl could ask for… seemingly drop from the sky! We’re saved!” She throws your hands into the air as if they’d fall like confetti. Drawing both her arms in, she sways back and forth in a waltz of one. “We’d be married by the next day! Hell, maybe we’d even end up as princesses.”

Oh, how utterly wrong she was.

“I told you this was a stupid idea.” You groaned, haughtily holding your chin up while feeling your spirits low. A few miles back, on an asphalt road that quickly turned to dirt, sat the dingy red rental truck with a blown out engine and a deflating tire. With no cell service and the last town being over 100 miles back, your only choice was to walk.

“Don’t blame me!” Jezebel stopped walking, feet falling flat to the ground as she stomped her foot in a childish manner. “I,” her lip quivered as all the anger held in her body dissipated, “I just wanted to have a fun time with you.” Big tears flowed from her eyes quickly after finishing her proclamation, leaving smearing black lines down her face from the eyeliner she insisted was necessary in the Romanian countryside. God, if her parents weren’t funding this trip, you’d throw a fit for your money back.

“Jess, just,” reaching backward, you fished a rag from your backpack, “don’t cry. That’s not going to make this better.” Sniffling, she accepted the rag and wiped her eyes, further smearing black all over her face. You couldn’t help but feel a shred of sympathy for her. “Let’s just keep going. No use in wasting daylight. I really don’t want to get caught out here in the dark.”

“Where are we supposed to go, then?”

“I’m sure the next town will have some sort of inn or hotel. At the very least, they’ll have directions to the nearest city.”

After another five miles of walking, the sun was beginning to set and no gorgeous studs were waiting to save you. The blazing yellow ball inched slowly beyond the horizon. Its warming rays that had kept the snow from freezing the two of you in the day crept down below the snow peaked mountains that were nestled in the distance. Shadows began dancing between the trees, sending the forest into a theater of silent performers. The dirt road that was once large enough for two cars was now only a walking path so slim that Jezebel had to follow on your heels. Every now and again you were reeled back by the piece of rope that she had attached to your backpack that was firmly gripped in her hand. She claimed it made her feel safer.

“You think those two hunks are going to come save us now?” You joked, attempting to make light of this dark situation.

“I wish.” She huffed, frustration evading her voice as exhaustion took center stage.

Flickering light caught your eye. Hues of yellow and red mingled together in the distance, the outlines of rooftops and smoke-filled chimneys littered the ground below. “I think that’s a village.”

Another mile of downhill travel was all it took to reach the place where the once distant flickering of torches and lanterns grew into the quiet streets of a cluttered settlement. There was no clear indication of movement once you stepped foot in the village; the only evidence of any life came in the form of fresh boot prints, livestock, and the ever-blazing lanterns. Jezebel was all to happy to release your makeshift leash from her fingers, trotting mindlessly by to examine the street corners and homes. Your eyes continued wandering up the rooftops, finally landing upon the eerie looming castle situated on the mountainside above.

From around the bend, you heard Jezebel screech.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You threw caution to the wind, quickly rounding the corner to scold her like a parent would to a misbehaving child. “You don’t know if these people are violent or not. We can’t just go parading ourselves into the town center.”

“I think they’re violent.” She mustered the shaky words. Her hands covered her eyes and the majority of her face as she backed away from whatever had caused her distress.

“What?” The unpleasant squelch of snow beneath your feet caused your attention to draw downward. Dark snow surrounded your boot, an unnatural red hue stained the pure white. Gaze moving upward, your chest restricted feeling as if it had crushed inward on itself. The putrid smell finally fell upon your nostrils as you backed away from the scene. Severed animal heads hung lazily above you, their tongues flopping from their opened mouths.

“I want to go home.” Jezebel sobbed, rasping her cries into her cupped hand. Shaking her head as if to knock this moment from her brain, her short-lived façade of curiosity gave way to her immediate feeling of impending dread.

“That’s what I’m trying to do right now, Jess. Just, calm down.”

A low grumble had you standing further on edge, if that was possible at this point. The sound was clear as day and was anything but human. You weren’t even sure a human could get to an octave so low without the help of technology. Eyes darting upward once more, a chill ran from your shoulders to your toes.

Hauntingly yellowed eyes lingered upon the two of you. The beast-like figure was silhouetted by the moonlight, outlined like a ghost. It looked to be a man, but also anything but a man in the same sense. Its mouth was parted, baring old rotted teeth that looked to have dried blood caked between its gums. Its hands were bloodied as well, small cuts were painted across its forearms only hidden by the rags that clung to its chest.

Before you could process the situation, Jezebel let out another yelp. In an instant, the beast lunged down from its perch, landing with a ground shaking thud nearly five feet before you. “No!” Jezebel’s open palm collided with the space between your shoulder blades as she pushed you toward the monster. The last thing you saw was her backpack falling to the ground as she began running toward one of the homes. You landed face-first in the snow, groaning as all the air in your lungs were forced out. The beast snarled, once again showing its teeth as it hunched down to your level. This was, most certainly, not the way you envisioned dying. Things like this weren’t supposed to exist; this is myth, this isn’t real. It all felt like bad dream gone worse that you couldn’t wake from.

“Pesky creatures, aren’t they?” A new voice called out as the horrendous sound of metal crushing bone and muscle slithered through your ears. The disgusting feeling of gore instantly trickled down your hands. “Please,” the voice continued, “feel free to thank me anytime.”

A moment later, the stranger let out a scoff with the squishy suction of whatever he had used to quiet the monster. The tap of a boot on your elbow finally prompted you to uncover your eyes. “Or don’t.”

“I,” you started, opening and closing your mouth multiple times unable to find the right words, “thank you.”

“Oh.” He tiled the stiff rim of his frayed hat back, exposing a pair of circular sunglasses perched upon his nose. “Foreigners, eh?”

“Yeah, um.” You gathered yourself, finally pushing up to stand on your feet. “We got lost.”

“And ended up here, no doubt.” A stifled chuckle left his lips as he tilted his hat back in place and swung whatever he used to kill the beast over his shoulder. “If I were you, I’d get the hell out of here.”

Without another word, the stranger sauntered off with a backward wave of his hand. “Oh, and have someone clean this mess up.”

“Y/n!” Jezebel’s shrill voice called as she returned with a rather confused villager. He held a shotgun with both of his hands, Jezebel shone a flashlight in your eyes.

“Are you okay?” The villager moved forward with extreme caution after peering around you dumbfoundedly seeing the crumpled body.

“I’m fine, no thanks to her.” You spat, anger swelling in your throat causing a particular acidity to your words.

“All of you! Inside this instant.” A matronly holler came from behind Jezebel and the villager. “You know Miranda’s protection only runs so far as we grow closer to this time.”

Who is Miranda and, more importantly, who was the man who saved you?

The home you were ushered into was on the outskirts of town. It was one of the larger estates given the fact that some people seemed to live in one-room shacks. Upon entering, you were greeted with the warm glow of yellow light trickling in from what looked to be a formal living room. The sweet aromas of honeyed tea wafted through the air, drawing further in as the woman led the three of you deeper into the home. What was worse? You pondered. Being killed by that beast or potentially being murdered by the inhabitants of this home? You couldn’t decide. Thus far, the two gave no indication of malice.

“Please, sit.” The woman pulled out two of the chairs at her table, the wood scratching against the floor. “I’ll fetch the tea.”

Jezebel was so brainless. She smiled at you as if she hadn’t just offered you up as a midnight snack. Surely there was no hamster running on that squeaky track that powered her.

“What was that thing?” You turned to the man who was now seated to your right. “The monster.”

The man ignored your question, instead grabbing a piece of rounded bread from the plate at the center of table. Slathering butter on it, he looked to you. “How’d you kill it?”

“I didn’t.” You frowned, recalling the mysterious man who saved your life without even dropping his name. The villager raised his brows and kicked his foot up on the table. He was waiting for more information. “Some man came out of nowhere. He had some hammer-like weapon.”

As soon as he processed the words, his foot fell from the table and he leaned forward, uncomfortably close. You could smell the distinguishable bite of alcohol percolate from his lips. “Did he wear glasses? A hat?”

“He did.” The words slowly drifted from your mouth. “Hair to about here.” You motioned to the halfway point of your neck.

“Adelina,” the man called, presumably to the woman who guided you inside. He got up quickly, rushing to the other room leaving you and Jezebel alone.

“What the hell is going on here?” You whispered in a harsh tone, leaning forward to get closer to her. “Is this not weird at all to you?”

“I think they’re nice people.” Jezebel responded at full volume without a second of thought.

“That’s coming from someone who tried to feed their supposed best friend to a monster.”

“I was buying us time to get help.”

“Help? I almost died!”

“But you didn’t.”

“When we get back to the U.S. I never want to speak to you again.” You seethed. How could she be this bad? You knew there were a few… a considerable amount of screws missing from Jezebel, but how in God’s green earth does she justify her actions at this point? The thought of it accompanied by her dazed and empty stare only fueled the fire of anger more.

“Dear,” the woman, who you now knew was Adelina, reentered the room accompanied by the man with a tray of cups and a kettle in her hands. She set a delicate china glass in front of you, softly filling it with a reddish colored liquid that she assured you was Celestial Seasonings, a tea imported from Africa. “I hear that you’ve met Lord Heisenberg.” Placing a hand over her heart, she gave a warm smile that only sent another wave of dread through your body. There was something so alluring about this woman, yet so sinister.

“Lord, who?”

Adelina stiffened, craning her neck to the side as she plastered a forced smile upon her lips once more. You had upset her, that much was obvious. “One of the four Lords that rule here alongside our dear Mother Miranda.” She explained, pushing the cup of tea closer to your body. Jezebel had already finished her first glass. Warily, you lifted the cup in your hand and allowed the warm water to heat your frozen body. An elongated finger pointed to the framed painting that hung to the wall. “Mother Miranda protects us here.”

Mother Miranda. You could only focus on the image of the woman silhouetted by six black wings and a halo outlining her head. Her eyes were indistinguishable behind the raven-like mask that clung to her face. Adorned in a black garb, she looked to be a holy figure in this town. But like Adelina, something just wasn’t right with Miranda.

The unsettling reverb of crickets and cicadas chirping grew louder and louder with each passing hour. You counted the seconds between waves of mass chorus; so far, it was roughly thirty seconds between each bleating scream of their nightly tune. You couldn’t sleep. Despite the somewhat comforting, but entirely unsettling welcome given by Adelina and Marion, you couldn’t help but feel like a caged animal in the tiny cupboard room they had given you. A curious thought tickled the back of your mind, willing you to remain as alert as possible after an exhausting day of hiking; where had they put Jezebel? Not that you particularly cared at this point. After the attack she had done a 180, dropping all suspicion of malice in this village. She simply flushed the pictures of hanging heads and wild beasts from her memory. You sometimes envied her lackadaisical memory accompanied by a fanatical view of the world. Living blissfully ignorant, especially in a situation like this, seemed to serve her best.

After a small dinner of fish that smelled of ammonia, of which you politely picked at, Adelina insisted the two of you stay the night. “The beasts will return!” She exclaimed, holding a firm hand over the intricately carved wood of the doorframe. “Early tomorrow we can arrange for a car to pick you up from the next town over.” Hushed murmurs climbing up from the cracked floors pulled you from your thought. The voices spoke in an incomprehensible argument.

“I’d quite like to keep...” the words faded in and out.

“No, no, no. Don’t be ridiculous...”

“What if....”

The floor spoke a soft squeak from beneath your feet as you shifted to get closer to the voices. Their conversation stopped, and you waited with bated breath for it to continue.

“We have to offer someone up tomorrow.” It was Adelina.

“I know, I know.” Marion sounded frustrated. “But you know Mother Miranda prefers only the purest. How are we supposed to know if either of them are-”?

The words faded once more as the two moved from room to room. Walking on the sides of your feet, you followed. Peeking around the corner, your eyes landed on Adelina and Marion illuminated by a flickering fire. They stood close to one another, keeping their tones low.

“Clearly, we offer the frumpy one. Take a look at her. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s unexperienced.” Adelina snickered, taking a seat on the worn couch with her back to you. “She wouldn’t fit in here anyway.”

“The dumb one would get along nicely with our son.”

“I agree.”

A knock at the front door sent a shiver of adrenaline down your spine. Quickly scrambling to hide, you took in a deep breath as Marion passed by with his shotgun in hand. From the parted door, you could see the sun barely peeking over the horizon. Had it really been that long already?

“Are you sure she’s pure?” The new man stood in the doorway rushed past Marion, looking in the direction of the room they had put you in.

“I suppose we could check.” Adelina called, rising to join the others. “The both of them had that tea. They shouldn’t wake until the ceremony later today.”

“Is she in there?”

“Yes, the other one is upstairs.”

“Let’s check this one first.”

With heavy footsteps falling upon the rotting floorboards of the somewhat dilapidated home, you slunk further into the shadows of the room behind you. The glint of something metal caught your attention; a small handgun sat perfectly on a dresser as if set there intentionally for you to find. Holding your breath, you crept forward to it. You’d never shot a gun in your life, but you knew the basics... both hands, check for ammo, rack the slide, pull the trigger. At least, that’s what the movies told you.

“Out of bed so soon, are we?” The soft voice turned malevolent as Adelina appeared in the doorway of the room. “I wouldn’t use that if I were you.” She motioned to the gun that was aimed rather unskillfully for her chest.

“What the fuck is going on in this village?” You spoke with purpose now, tone wavering slightly as Marion stepped behind his wife.

“You don’t understand things around here, girl.” Adelina spat, moving aside as Marion began charging into the room. The loud blast of the gun echoed from the walls of the home followed by a harsh curse and the sound of a body crumpling to the floor. You had shot Marion in the leg; he’d live.

“No,” you started, re-racking the slide as Adelina’s other friend approached wielding a similar gun to your own. Adrenaline washed over your nervous system, your hands shook violently, but you attempted to remain composed. “You’re the one who doesn’t understand. This isn’t normal! Tell me what’s going on now or,” your eyes trailed down to Marion who was attempting to control the flow of blood from his wound.

“You wouldn’t.” She laughed bitterly.

“Like hell, I wouldn’t.” You exclaimed, training the gun onto her. “Now tell me, what’s happening here.”

“You’ll understand soon enough.” Adelina’s friend’s words were the last thing you heard before your ears rang and the sting of a bullet burnt white hot in your shoulder. You weren’t sure if your gun ever went off again.

Despite being tied, bathed, dressed, and currently sitting on a freezing alter-of-sorts, you still hadn’t the slightest clue as to what was going on. A crowd of villagers surrounded from the south, all carrying on with a rumble of conversation. Adelina shot daggers at you, Marion as well, from a small, inclined hill at the edge of the crowd. The clothes you wore were your own, she had fished through your backpack claiming that it was of no use to waste a nice dress on “someone like her.” Jezebel was likely still fast asleep at their house.

A woman with the likeness of the framed photo you had seen appeared out of nowhere. So, this was the famous Mother Miranda that everyone regarded so deeply. She stood before you as the crowd’s voices hushed and their eyes became hazed with looks of admiration and devoted appreciation. Surely, she was a human, deities and gods didn’t exist in a physical form, you assured yourself.

Without a word, Miranda moved gracefully as if flowing across the ground to stand before Adelina. Taking her face between her hands, she whispered what you assumed to be praise as Adelina’s lips moved rapidly thanking Miranda. She then moved to Marion and grazed her hand against the wound on his thigh, speaking of how his steadfast devotion would quickly heal any injuries of cruelty spread by evil. When her attention finally fell back to you, she frowned. Stalking around you in circles, Miranda’s imposing figure made you want to shrivel to nothingness.

“Thank you.” She turned to the villagers as if to dismiss them. “When the time comes, I will return for another.”

The black wings you had seen in the photo sprouted from her back, shielding your sight of the villagers as they retreated to their homes. Hopeful cries and shouted blessings to Miranda echoed from the crowd as the village gate slammed. The only evidence of them once populating this empty square were flowers and offerings of fruit and grain left for the supposed goddess.

The world swiftly darkened once more.

Part 2 - Paths Meet

I promise there's more Heisenberg in the next part..

Feedback is always appreciated

[phoenixyfriend]

Rex and Anakin Raise a Family: Part Four

Part One, Part Two, Part Three – Chrono

Warnings: grief, resentment, lactation, animal death

----

For all that Anakin had said he could handle the twins, Rex still takes one in the sling as they go into town. They don't have a hoverpram yet, and neither of them could figure out a way to fold the fabric to securely hold the babies' heads up. Anakin takes Luke, and Rex takes Leia, and they ignore the whispers that still follow them.

The General keeps just behind his shoulder when they get to the hardware shop that carries the closest paint they can find in such a small town. It's not meant for armor, really, but speeder paint will do the trick for now. Rex's hands shake as he picks out the shades he needs, and the young Rodian at the register almost asks about it.

The issue isn't pressed.

They make their way back to the cottage, and Leia starts fussing fifteen minutes past the town's edge. Anakin looks like he wants to offer to take her back, but Rex is fine. He can comfort her. He can--

Anakin takes the paint, floating it along in the air before them, freeing Rex's hands to focus on the infant strapped to his chest.

"I'll feed her as soon as we get back," Anakin says, low and calm. "She's a little hungry."

Pacifier, then. They're only a few minutes out, by now. She can wait for them to get back to where exchanging the twins won't involve juggling.

Rex feels eyes on him, looks up and sees the soft, quiet smile on his General's face, and ducks his head back to Leia.

She glares up at him as well as a newborn can, sucking angrily on the paci in her mouth. Rex has no idea if she's actually upset or if her face just naturally follows such an expression, but it's adorable nonetheless. He hums to her, nonsense without words.

He's never learned lullabies; they picked up drinking songs in the field and from local soldiers, from their Jedi, war songs from their trainers, pop songs from the radio. A few learned lullabies, those who loved children and wanted their own, one day, brothers like Waxer who would have adopted Numa in a heartbeat if it had been an option.

He wants to learn lullabies. He wants to be able to sing children's songs to these tiny, helpless lives he holds in his hands, day in and day out. He wants to learn Mandalorian songs, real ones, not just battle chants and mourning melodies. He wants to be able to raise them with the childhood he didn't have.

"Rex? Door's open."

He looks up, and Anakin's standing on the porch, pulling the keys from the lock and gesturing in with his head. Rex hadn't even realized he'd stopped walking, subconsciously waiting for the blockage of the door to be handled. It's easier to focus on the children.

The paint gets sent to the backyard--trapped fumes wouldn’t be good for the children--and Rex lays Leia down in her crib. Anakin urges him to the backyard, says I’ll handle it about anything Rex uses to delay, and it’s only a few minutes later that Rex finds himself sitting on the grass, armor spread across a sheet of disposable flimsi, paints and brushes at the ready. He doesn’t quite remember setting it up, but he must have.

Anakin joins him, a twin in each arm and the Force laying out a picnic blanket. Leia’s nursing, swaddled up but content to suckle, and Luke seems happy to doze when Anakin sets him down on the cotton gingham. It’s a warm day, with a light breeze, and the babies are where the wind won’t carry the paint fumes.

“I’m here if you need me,” Anakin promises, though his attention drifts immediately to his daughter.

Rex begins to paint.

----

His remembrances are endless.

Every brother he’s ever known, every general he’s met, every small commander and random civilian, everyone he loved and knew. He lights a pyre, sings under his breath and tries not to break in a way that can’t be patched together. He mourns the tubies and cadets, the Jedi younglings, names he never learned and now never would.

Anakin gets Japor from somewhere, carves it whenever he’s too jittery to sleep and the twins are asleep. Rex recognizes a few symbols, like the open circle fleet, like Fives’ helmet eel, like Ahsoka’s markings. There are more, though, that are wholly unfamiliar, things he thinks are born of desert sands and binary suns, rough and painful and deeper in Anakin’s heart than even the Jedi.

He asks about the one for Fives, when he sees it.

He hides his anger.

Explanations, first.

“It’s an apology,” his General tells him, eyes distant. “I should have listened to him. I didn’t. The carvings are regrets, broken trust... that sort of thing. I’m part of why he died, and in that, part of why the rest is gone. He and his memory deserve a place of honor.”

Rex considers that, and accepts it.

Fives deserves an apology. The General recognizes that.

The General recognizes that he fucked up.

This is a good thing.

Rex lets go of his anger, still curled tight to his chest after months, as best he can.

He’s not very good at it, but he can try.

Luke starts crying, and Rex gets up to warm a bottle.

----

“I need to stay close to home until the twins are a little older,” Rex says. Teskarim, the woman at the childcare store, tilts her head to encourage him to continue. “I’m... I’ve never been anything but a soldier, and nobody here needs security services, but I can hunt. Do you know if there’s any kind of licenses required, or lists of which animals are legal hunt and which are endangered?”

“I... don’t,” she says, chewing her bottom lip. “But I think the butcher’s shop can probably point you in the right direction.”

Damn. He’d been hoping he wouldn’t have to talk to anyone new today.

“Thanks,” he sighs, and shells out some of the local currency for more formula.

----

The butcher has answers, and preferences. Rex isn’t much of a trapper, but he’s a hell of a shot, and decent enough scout and tracker. He listens to what there is to hear, and mentally takes all the notes he can. There aren’t any licenses needed in this hemisphere, but there are legally-defined hunting seasons for different creatures. The butcher knows when the optimal times of day are, which parts of the nearby forest and mountains are best to stake out, and so on.

Rex tells Anakin about his plan. He gets a slow blink in response, a cringe in what he thinks is guilt, and an offer to meditate for the best direction to take when he goes out. He accepts the offer in the spirit its meant, and sets out the next morning with the expectation that he may need to spend a few nights out under the leaves and stars.

The calm and quiet are their own kind of comfort. He’s loyal to Anakin, and he already loves the twins, but there’s a part of him that needs to be away from natborns right now. Anakin was a Jedi, a general, and fought in the metaphorical trenches with the rest of them, but he wasn’t a brother.

They grieve many of the same people, but they do not grieve the same way.

Rex needs the solitude. Not forever, not even for very long, but he needs it.

It takes two days, but he finds one of the in-season creatures, a creature shaped much like an Alderaan deer, but larger, and with longer fur. It’s darker in color, too, and he gives it a bit of time to wander about until he can be sure it’s a male, and he’s not about to leave some fawns without a mother. The shot is clean, and it doesn’t take him very long to tie it up and sling it over his shoulders to bring back to town.

The trek back takes hours, and the creature on his back is a pain to carry, but it’s almost worth the looks he gets from the civvies. Eyes bulge out the sockets at the sight of him, and he’s glad his helmet hides his smirk. He’s Kamino stock, hardened by over three years on the front lines, and there’s a pride in how easy the physical things are for him. It’s not impossible for a natborn to carry this kind of creature this far without help, but it’s uncommon.

He kind of likes the attention, now that it doesn’t come with the many prejudices that being a clone always had.

Anakin meets him at the butcher’s, one twin on his chest and the other on his back.

Seems he’s found a solution to that.

“Here to help me barter a fair payment?” Rex asks, and gets a too-charming grin in response.

“Well, I’ve been doing it most of my life,” Anakin says, cheery in a way that feels pasted on. “And I’ll have a trick to know if we’re being cheated.”

It’s a solid response, but Rex doesn’t like it. He takes note of the bags under Anakins eyes. “Have you been sleeping, sir?”

“Twins,” the man himself says. “And don’t call me ‘sir,’ Rex, we’ve been over this.”

“You need to sleep, General.”

Anakin pouts at him, probably because of the title. “I can handle two days alone, Captain.”

Rex rolls his eyes and sidles through the entrance of the butcher’s shop.

They’ve got this.

[yandere-sins]

Maybe some inspiration for a yandere kitsune atsumu fic?? I just imagine him coming across you hiking in the woods one day and he’s like “you’re cute I’m gonna keep you!” He thinks it’s cute to have a pet, something that is his alone that no one else can have

Oooh, thank you! I love the idea! Enjoy!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««     

This wasn’t how he usually did things, but what about him was ever normal?

If Atsumu wanted to mingle with humans, he’d go down to the town at the foot of the mountain. Roam its street, flirt a little with the giggling girls he met, or play with the children. In the hundreds of years he lived, he sometimes needed the change from his otherwise dull life. Atsumu was way too strong to brawl with the other creatures, and his own kind was too proud and traditional to be around of. So all he did was eat and sleep, occasionally do some trickery or run from the rain. It wasn’t a very fulfilling life to him; he didn’t even have a mate to share his days with, so what really was there left for the bored kitsune?

But you, you weren’t a usual thing either.

Few to none ever got lost in the forest that coated the mountain he lived on. There were too many rumors about strange creatures inhabiting these lands, of people going missing and turning up talking nonsense about what they experienced here. And even then, if someone wandered up here, it was usually an old monk with spiritual powers on a pilgrimage who could find their way around.

So what were you up to in his part of the forest? Perhaps you were lucky it was just his territory, or you might have already been torn up by an oni or lead astray by anything else. Instead, Atsumu had been following and watching you for a while as you moved through the lands. He waited patiently while you rested at the river and shushed away some of the animals that came too close to you for his liking. You might not recognize a deer as something dangerous, but he didn’t like thinking about the marks it would leave if it decided to bite. But now you were closing in on the end of his territory, and from then on, he wouldn’t be able to watch over you anymore, instead, having to go back to his utterly boring day in his utterly boring life.

That’s not what he wanted to let happen.

“Leaving already?” you heard behind you, instantly turning around in surprise to hear a human voice in the uninhabited forest. Even though you were tense, you didn’t seem immediately alarmed by his presence, Atsumu hiding his more extraordinary features behind magic. “Who are you?” you asked him curiously, and he lifted a hand, pointing back into his territory.

“I take care of the temple here. Not many humans come across it, have you made an offering?”

Imitating to be a shrine caretaker seemed to work as your shoulders relaxed, and you turned to him fully, flight instinct dispersing. “I must have missed it. I’m sorry...”

“No problem,” Atsumu was quick to chime up happily. “I can show you where it is. You wouldn’t want to continue on your way without divine protection, would you?”

Hesitating, you looked back at the path over your shoulder before shaking your head. “Certainly not. It can’t hurt to have some protection on this mountain, can it?”

You quickly caught up to him, and Atsumu laughed as you implied the rumors, shaking his head. “Don’t tell me you believe in yokai?” he teased you, and you quickly spluttered that you weren’t afraid of these things, putting on a brave face. However, twiddling with your thumbs gave away that you did mind - a lot.

Cute, Atsumu thought.

You soon enough started to tell him all about your adventure after he initiated the conversation with, “What are you doing here?” telling him you were just wandering to get some clarity of mind. Atsumu took the time you were talking excitedly to study your features. Humans were all so unique, and even if he was able to imitate their looks, he always found himself mesmerized. Foxes usually had just one topic when it came to looks: How unique and shiny is your coat? But it was different for humans. They dyed and cut their hair as they wanted, changed their bodies significantly over time. Their noses were all very different, eyes as unique as their gestures or voices. Humans were so much more interesting than the other kitsune, even if Atsumu didn’t envy how weak they were.

“There we are,” he interrupted you merrily at the foot of the staircase leading to the temple. There really were old, rotten temple grounds on top of the steps, but one you wouldn’t be allowed to see. Humans had long forgotten and abandoned this place, justifiable even, as it was too hard to reach and maintain. No one could even come here with all these dangers. But back in the days, he remembered how much he loved watching the humans build it and pray at it, before when the humans still co-existed well with the spiritual world. But it wasn’t like when he was a little cub anymore. It was his home still, but not one he would show you.

“Well then,” you chuckled nervously, eyeing the stairs. You two began the climb in silence, your eyes mainly on the unmaintained steps, trying not to fall over them. Even focused, you were quite the adorable one, and he appreciated how chipper and optimistic you had been all the way here. Yes, you certainly were a special human, Atsumu decided, his determination only strengthening the magic that was forming halfway up the stairs.

With how little you looked up, you didn’t notice how the stairs kept coming and coming, as if in a loop. Only the feeling of exhaustion was growing on your part, but when you finally looked up, Atsumu could see your eyes growing wide with the wonders you were seeing.

“Do you like it?” he asked, inching closer to you. You were so amazed by the gold and red of the beautiful, large temple spreading out before you, you didn’t notice him taking a whiff of your scent, a mix of soap and sweat, but nothing he found terribly appalling. After all, it was your scent, and he’d find you with it no matter where you went. The scent of his human.

With a delighted giggle, you took the last three steps, leaving Atsumu behind as you looked around you. You seemed to be in awe by how beautiful the temple was that it even made Atsumu forget for a second that this was just how he created it with his magic. “Who’d have thought there’d be such a beautiful temple in the middle of nowhere,” you mumbled before finally turning around to your guide.

“You must be taking really good care--”

Only then did you notice the prominent features of a fox spirit peeking out of his hair, his tail slowly wagging behind him. Of course, in a world of his magic, he’d not be able to keep up the appearance of a human, but you had long crossed the borders to the spiritual realms. It didn’t matter anymore if you recognized him or not.

Still, you backed away in shock while Atsumu always drew closer to you no matter how many steps you took back. “I am glad you like it. Why don’t you stay here?” he asked, and panic spread in you as you looked around to find a way out. Only briefly did you look to your left and then him again before you bolted. You were quick, but if he had run after you, he would have been faster, no question asked.

Instead, Atsumu approached his home - the place he lived in all alone until now - calmly, sitting down at the stairs to the temple and waiting for the loop to bring you back. No matter how far you ran, you eventually stumbled back onto the property, falling to your knees as you didn’t expect the open space. “Welcome back,” he greeted you, and even more panic crossed your expression. For every sadistic spirit, this would have been the absolute height of pleasure, seeing their prey so desperate, but Atsumu concentrated on the most important things.

He’d need to create a room for you. A room fit for a human, where you could feel at home while you stayed here with him. “Do you like beds or futon more?” he asked you as you stumbled back over the temple grounds the second time. You gave him a confused and flabbergasted look before booking it into the other direction again. Even if he wasn’t like the other kitsune, Atsumu decided to keep it traditional with a futon.

It took you three more times before you came to a halt in front of him, asking, “Why? Let me go! I want nothing to do with the likes of you!”

“Ah, too bad,” Atsumu sighed, standing up, and for the first time, you looked up to him properly, like the good tiny human you were. Even at your size, Atsumu was a towering force, making you feel relatively small next to him, a mere illusion from his magic. You wanted to complain as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you up close to his body as if he tried to melt you two together, taking another deep breath. “I always wanted my own human. Everyone said how great it is to have one just for myself, and here you are.”

He felt you shiver in his arms at his words, and it brought a smile to his face. “You’re so adorable~ Why don’t you just stay here with me and let me have you?”

“N-No!” you said firmly, using his moment of inattention to push him away roughly. “Your kind just wants to play with us and make us crazy! I want to go home! I won’t play with you!”

“Play?” Atsumu mumbled before a broad smile grazed his lips. “Do I look like a child to you? I have no such intentions. If you want to leave, by all means, leave. I know you’ll come back all on your own.”

Anger festering in your expression, you huffed before turning on your heels, running towards and down the long staircase. How could he be so sure that you’d come back? Well, you were long caught in his realm, and he had sent out the invitations to everyone on the mountain to look at his darling little human.

It was just before sunset that you crawled back to him, having seen the horrors of true monsters that wanted nothing more than to drool on you and laugh about how pitiful you were. Maybe Atsumu did want to play with you a little bit, make you a little crazy, but mostly show you there were worse creatures waiting if you left his side. Instead, he’d keep you with him safe and sound, his arms wide open as you returned, making you fall right into his lap and into the comfort he offered to you, brushing over your head as tears streamed down your cheeks.

“I’ll definitely leave tomorrow,” you announced bitterly. “Sure, sure~” he merely pitied you, picking you up and carrying you inside the temple. In a few weeks, this would probably get boring, but by then, he’d surely come up with another method to keep you busy. And until then, he had a futon to share with you and a world you could never escape from until he decided to let you go.

But why would he ever let such a cute, amusing human go?

[stargaze-sunflower]

Hello! Could you do some Dewey and Louie bonding? Or maybe Dewey protecting his brothers? Your writing is amazing btw.

This ask is from way back when I was taking prompts sajdskj I'm sorry its so late but I dug up something that I wrote for the green beans discord and it sort of fit this so I cleaned it up a bit :]

The context is that Dewey and Louie have been stuck in a magical forest that shows them their worst memories, but it kinda starts near the end of that story so asjdkkjsa anyway I hope you enjoy!! <33

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

Dewey’s worst nightmare used to be Huey being freakishly tall, but now that he’d been introduced to freakishly tall trees in a disturbingly magical forest, he might be reevaluating that decision.

“We’ll get out of here,” Dewey said, softer than he might’ve, had it not felt like something was watching them. “We always get out.”

“Yeah, sure, we always escape magical forests that trap us and show us our worst memories,” Louie grumbled, sarcastic and defensive; tired and lost.

“You know what I mean,” Dewey said, standing up from where he’d been kneeling in a patch of bright green and glowing moss. He held out a hand for Louie to take. “We’re two-thirds of the Duck Boys, we’ll be fine.”

“It only takes once, you know,” Louie said, taking his hand and rising on slightly shaky legs. “And then always turns into sometimes, and my mental health will somehow get worse.”

“We’ll be fine,” Dewey reiterated, his chest squeezing a bit at Louie’s words, at the fact that he was so scared of sometimes. “I mean, we could probably use some help, sure. Or ideas. Or a miracle.”

“I’m afraid I’m out of stock,” Louie said drily.

Dewey laughed a bit, glad that most of the horrible tension from earlier had dissipated into something more manageable. Running from reruns of their worst memories until Louie collapsed into a panic attack had not been the fun adventure he’d been hoping for.

Still holding Louie’s hand, Dewey turned to take in their surroundings for what had to be the thirtieth time. There were trees as far as he could see, and they were taller than he could even fathom, so much so that he couldn’t see the sky, couldn’t tell if it was night or day. Patches of glowing green moss were spread haphazardly across the forest floor and growing near the bases of the trees. And speaking of trees…

“Do you think we should try climbing?” Dewey asked, his head tilted backwards at an uncomfortable angle as he searched for one worth a try. All the branches were at least twenty feet in the air.

“Nope, no. Absolutely not,” Louie said, tugging on his hand as if to shake the thought of it from his head. “I’d rather you didn’t fall and die, thanks.”

“Maybe one of those giant deer we saw earlier would catch me.”

“I don’t really want to see that either.”

“What? But it’d be so cool!”

“Do it on your own time, then,” Louie said, but a small smile was pulling at the corner of his beak, and Dewey grinned.

“That sounds like a challenge,” he said, teasing.

“That was the opposite of a challenge,” Louie said. “That was a thinly veiled plea to never leap into the arms of a giant deer.”

Dewey pouted playfully. “You’re no fun.”

“No, I just happen to have common sense and a healthy fear of injury.”

Something in the air shifted.

(“Fear, you say?”)

Dewey jumped about a mile in the air, startled, as Louie yelped in poorly concealed surprise. The voice seemed to come from all around them, layered and echoing and amused. Slowly, they turned around, and with wide eyes they took in the figure in front of them.

It was a child, glowing with the same light that had formed imitations of their family members just a few minutes ago. The child looked like a ghost, or a hologram, and despite its youthful appearance, Dewey got the feeling that it was older than anything he’d ever met before; ancient and magic and terrifying, like the trees surrounding them and the creatures they’d encountered throughout their adventure.

But it looked like a child.

The figure smiled, and Dewey blinked, feeling Louie’s grip on his hand tighten as they stared at the entity in front of them.

“Who are you?” Dewey blurted, forgoing a polite hello in favor of getting straight into whatever this was.

(“I am the forest,”) the child said, as if that were a perfectly normal and reasonable response. For their family, it might as well be. (“Why are you here?”)

“Trust me, I’d rather not be,” Louie spoke up, stepping out from where Dewey had subconsciously stepped in front of him. He gave the forest spirit a long, resigned look. “So if you could point us towards the exit, that would be great.”

(“There is no exit,”) the forest said, that amused undertone to its voice again, and then it smiled. (“But there is an escape.”)

“Okay, uh, can you point us to the escape, then?” Dewey asked, already frustrated by the word games the thing was playing.

The forest hummed as if deliberating, and the leaves around them rustled in an echo of it, low and haunting. Dewey felt Louie shiver.

(“It is something you have to find for yourself,”) said the forest spirit, floating forward a bit. (“All I can be is a guide. It is up to you, whether you leave or not.”)

There was a moment of silence, in which Dewey got the impression that the trees were breathing, or something equally as ridiculous.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Louie asked, growing bolder in his irritation. “We want to leave. Let us out.”

(“Freedom is not free, child,”) the forest said, for a moment sounding exactly as ancient as it really was. Sounding sad, almost. (“You have to give me something in return.”)

Dewey glanced back at Louie with a question in his eyes, and Louie just shrugged. Bargaining with the forest. Sure. Now he’d seen everything.

“What do you want?” Dewey asked.

(“An answer,”) said the forest, tilting its head to the side as it examined them. (“An answer to a question.”)

“Great,” Louie said flatly, exhaustion and resignation seeping into his voice. “Ask away.”

What Dewey had expected was some sort of riddle, or trick, or maybe an impossible task. What he got was something completely different.

(“What are you afraid of?”) the forest asked, and Dewey’s breath caught. The child frowned. (“No one ever tells me the truth.”)

“This has happened before?” Dewey asked, and the spirit shrugged.

(“I’ve lived for centuries,”) the forest said, looking around at the trees that were growing tall and proud around them. (“There are always those who wander.”)

“And do you let them leave?” Louie’s voice was careful in the way that meant he was scared. Dewey lightly squeezed his hand.

(“It depends on what they tell me.”)

Dewey swallowed, feeling the pressure begin to press in on him from all sides. He was the older brother here; he had to make sure they made it out.

“Okay,” Dewey said, after a few long seconds of eerie quiet. “I’m sacred of heights, and thunder, and— and rivers.”

He heard Louie’s rushed breath of surprise at his declaration, because there were definitely some things in there that his brother hadn’t known.

(“That is the truth,”) the forest acknowledged, (“but it is not enough.”)

“Why not?” Dewey asked, halfway to being offended.

(“What are you afraid of?”) the forest spirit repeated the question gently. (“More than anything.”)

“More than anything?” Dewey parroted, and the forest nodded. He’d never met a forest who could nod before.

Sighing, Dewey turned to look at Louie, who was staring back at him in resigned bewilderment. The glow from the moss cast him in an eerie sort of lighting, but he supposed it reflected the mood well enough. Eventually, Louie broke eye contact and sighed.

“Okay, sure, if we tell you our greatest fear, then you’ll let us leave?” Louie asked, apparently making sure that if he bared his soul, it would be for a good reason.

(“Yes,”) said the forest, simply. (“You will be free.”)

“Great, not ominous at all.”

“Do you even know what your greatest fear is?” Dewey asked, glancing at Louie over his shoulder. He wasn’t even completely sure if he knew his own.

“I’ve got a few ideas,” Louie said absentmindedly, not meeting his eyes, and Dewey’s stomach twisted into anxious knots.

(“Will you tell me the truth?”) asked the forest spirit, and it almost sounded like it was excited. (“It has been a long time since I’ve heard honesty.”)

“It’s been a long time since I’ve practiced it,” said Louie, “but I’ll do my best.”

The forest nodded, something like a wry smile pulling at its lips. (“That is the truth.”)

“Thanks,” Louie said, and then in the same breath: “I’m afraid of being useless. Of having nothing to offer that makes me worth keeping around. I’m afraid of hurting people, of letting them down. I’m afraid that I’ll be left behind because I’m the only one who doesn’t always like where we’re going.”

Dewey stood rigid in the wake of Louie’s confession, his hand gone still and clammy in Louie’s tight, shaking grip. The weight of the words was not lost on Dewey, who suddenly had something new that he was afraid of. He never wanted Louie to feel like any of that was even possible.

“Louie?” Dewey’s voice wavered around his little brother’s name, but Louie ignored him in favor of staring challengingly at the forest spirit.

There was a long pause, in which everything was hauntingly still.

(“That is the truth,”) the forest said eventually, a bit of pride making its way into its voice. (“Thank you.”)

“Yeah,” Louie said, sounding equal parts fragile and relieved. “No problem.”

Big problem.

“Louie,” Dewey said, looking at him with confused, hurt eyes. “Why do you— You know we’d never do any of that stuff, right?”

Louie just shrugged, smiling a bit awkwardly.

“Somedays it seems more rational than others,” he said, and then, “It’s your turn.”

Reluctantly, Dewey turned back to the forest spirit, who was standing there serenely and watching them patiently. Right. His greatest fears.

“I don’t like to think about being scared,” Dewey opened up with, deciding to just wing it. “So I guess I’m afraid of being afraid. I’m afraid of missing out, being ignored. I’m afraid that no one will ever think I’m special or unique. It would really suck to be thought of as boring, you know?”

(“I do not know,”) said the forest spirit, kindness shining through its old eyes as it looked at him. (“But that is the truth. Thank you.”)

“Sure,” Dewey said, feeling slightly sick. “Anytime.”

“Though preferably never again,” Louie added, his voice thin and weak.

Dewey turned to look back at him, and found nothing but sadness and understanding in his gaze.

“You’re special, Dewey,” Louie told him, “and the fact that we’re standing here talking to a forest spirit is testament enough to the fact that you couldn’t be boring even if you tried.”

Despite himself, Dewey started chuckling, and Louie joined in with giggles soon after, all of the tension tumbling out of them in the form of laughter. The forest spirit smiled at them.

(“Laughter is rarer than honesty,”) the forest spirit mused. (“Or at least it is so where I come from.”)

“It depends on the person, I think, more than the place,” Louie said, and how did their lives reach this point? Making casual conversation with the embodiment of a magical forest. “Can we go now?”

(“Of course,”) said the forest, leaning back against a tree, seeming completely at ease. (“I told you the truth. You may go.”)

“Oka—"

“Why did you need to know our greatest fears?” Dewey asked suddenly, overcome with curiosity. “Are you holding them hostage now? Will we not be afraid anymore?”

(“I am a magical being,”) the forest spirit said, smiling up at the leaves above them, (“but even I cannot make you fearless.”)

“Then what was the point?”

(“To make you brave.”)

“Brave?” Louie asked, frowning a bit.

(“Honesty and Bravery are closely connected.”) The forest shrugged. (“To have any of either is to wear your heart on your sleeve.”)

“That’s another thing I’m afraid of,” Louie said softly, a bit wonderingly, and Dewey glanced at him sharply. “Being known.”

(“And yet you are,”) said the forest, glancing at Dewey and smiling softly. (“And you are loved all the same.”)

“I’d call that a miracle,” Louie said, a wry grin growing on his face even as Dewey squeezed his hand in a silent reprimand.

(“You may call it whatever you want.”) The forest around them began to change, the trees shrinking and shifting in the corners of Dewey’s vision. (“But I call it the truth.”)

The glow of the moss began to fade away, leaving behind a depressing normalcy. The trees had molded themselves into a mere shadow of their former glory, sunlight passing through the leaves that hung shortly above them. Before long, the only thing left of the magical forest was the figure in front of them, fainter and more translucent now that its home was back in… whatever realm it had come from; Dewey didn’t really know much about the logistics of magical forests and such.

“Bye,” Dewey said awkwardly, uselessly, and the forest spirit laughed brightly, eyes crinkling.

The laughter lingered even after the childlike figure had disappeared, until even that was carried away on the wind, leaving Dewey and Louie standing in a perfectly average sort of forest, staring at the spot where the last of their adventure had just vanished into thin air. Too much had happened in the past few hours. Too much to even begin to process.

“That was… something,” Louie said faintly, and Dewey snorted.

Understatement of the century.

Dewey opened his mouth to respond, but the harsh sound of the bushes to their right moving around pulled his attention away. Huey and Webby came tumbling through the underbrush moments later, looking wild and worried. Dewey and Louie turned to look at them with wide eyes, and Huey sighed in relief.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Huey said, rushing over to them to pull them into a hug. “Where have you been?”

“And why were you holding hands and staring at a tree?” Webby added, scanning them for injuries.

“It’s a long story,” Dewey managed, finally letting go of Louie’s hand as they shared a look.

“Yeah,” Louie agreed, looking back at their other siblings, “and we’re not telling it until we’re far, far away from anything resembling a forest.”

“The trees have eyes and ears,” Dewey said, nodding seriously, fighting a smile when Huey and Webby looked properly baffled now.

“And the forest talks like a poet from like, 80 centuries ago. I don’t—” Louie cut himself off with a yawn. “I don’t know. I’m tired.”

Hueys face softened into something concerned and caring.

“Okay,” said Huey. “Okay, let’s go home.”

The wind ruffled their hair gently as they were led back towards the Sunchaser, and somehow the rustling of the leaves sounded like a goodbye. Dewey looked towards the sky and smiled.

[pastelsandpining]

Congrats on 300!!! You are one of my favorite fan fiction writers!! Literally everything you write makes me scream loudly. Or sob.

Could I request a drabble on OoT. Maybe link struggling with his feelings for all the girls he’s met on his journey & also pining for Zelda? 💕💕💕

aww omg thank you!!! i see you in my notes a lot and i am SO APPRECIATIVE i'm always like its them!! it's the person that can eat a house!! i hope this is to your standards <333

wandering hearts

Masterlist | Small Drabbles

requests are still open so feel free to send me a little prompt!

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Wandering hearts were such troublesome things to a weary traveler. The Hero of Time had met so many people on his journey—one that seemed to have no end. He could move backwards and forwards, ricocheting off the vacuum of time, as much as he wanted and still, nothing would make sense to him. He was lost; a lost soul, a lost cause, and a lost heart. He was lonely and not alone all at once, and this state of heaviness pressed against his chest so tightly that breathing became a chore to him. Surviving became a chore, and he could not stop because he needed to get to her.

How guilty that made him feel.

Princess Zelda was so far out of his reach, he didn’t even know if she was alive. The fate of the world was a heavy thing to rest on the shoulders of one man.

“Your worry is understandable,” Sheik told him from their spot on the windmill in Kakariko. “But I am honest when I tell you that the princess is safe.”

Link let out a quiet sigh and tilted his head, fixing his gaze on the stars just starting to peak out and twinkle against the purple sky. Zelda was only one of his many worries, but he assumed having the sort of fate he did, did not come without struggles. But these were things he felt he shouldn’t have had to worry about. He had too much on his plate to worry about something as trivial as…

“I don’t think I understand love,” he spoke at last, leaning his head against the bricks. “You mentioned young love turning to deep affection–back at the Ice Cavern.”

“Love is not to be understood,” Sheik said with a small shrug. “It’s a complicated thing. Are you in love, Hero?”

Link frowned, furrowing his brows. His gaze flickered from where he knew the castle was, to Lon Lon Ranch, to Kokiri Forest, to Zora’s Domain.

“I don’t know,” he replied.

He didn’t know if love was something he was even capable of. Admiration, sure. It was easy to admire the people he met and the world around him on the rare occasions that Ganondorf did not ruin the atmosphere with his utter terribleness. But with so many years stolen from him, when he could not tell where his childhood ended and his adulthood began, he could not, in any confidence whatsoever, say that he was in love.

Saria was his first. A dear friend, a role model, a big sister. Childhood infatuation and wonder made her so lovely in his little eyes, and now she was really nothing more than a spirit to him. Sage of the Forest Temple–he had to fight for his life to free her, and there was no reason to believe he would ever see her again. She deserved better than having her cherished ocarina shattered by an evil king, all because a silly little boy thought he could protect everyone. Did he love her? No, not in the way that he loved others. He couldn’t–not when he was running around in the body of a seventeen year old. He’d never belonged in Kokiri anyway. There was nothing ageless about him, except maybe the sadness he carried in his heart.

The Zora Princess was a complicated thing. She grossed him out all those years ago when she started talking on and on about marriage. It was funny now, but at the time, he’d stuck his tongue out and made a face at the idea. She did force him to carry her around inside the stomach of the Zora deity, which was disturbing in itself, but to swear herself to him on top of that was something else. She’d grown into a beautiful Zora, but her utter insistence on having his hand steered him away. She admired him, and he could appreciate her persistence, but there was a heavy guilt that hovered over him any time he thought of her. Ruto was kind-hearted and true, but he did not love her. Not in the way that she wanted him to, and he could only hope that she would be able to forgive him for that.

There was a farm girl with a sweet voice and affinity for music, too. Malon had red hair that caught the sun and turned to flames, and soft freckles covering her sun kissed skin. She was strong and steady and beautiful, and seeing her after a long seven years of slumber caused his heart to twist so painfully, he thought he might die. She was playful and sweet, and though he did not know her as well as he wanted to, there laid an undeniable affection for her in his chest. But she did not want him. She told him one night beneath the stars, when she could barely recognize him outside of ‘fairy boy’, that her dream was for a knight in shining armor to sweep her up and take her far away. He was no knight. He never would be, unless Princess Zelda asked him to be. There was guilt there, too, because it didn’t matter what he felt for Malon–he would follow the Princess to the ends of the earth.

He had not seen Zelda in years, but the time Link spent with her in the courtyard of the castle were precious days he would never forget. She always laughed at his masks, and they always caused trouble for her Sheikah caretaker. She was who he’d wanted to protect when he faced down Ganondorf as a mere ten year old boy. And then she was gone, tucked away somewhere, where the King of Thieves could not put his tainted hands on her. They were supposed to do this together. They were supposed to face this evil man as a team, and he was not going to let that go because it was the only thing he had left to hold on to. There was something there, something that he couldn’t explain, and maybe he was just fishing for ways to understand fate, but sometimes, Zelda was his everything.

And then there was Sheik. A traveling bard, a mysterious warrior, someone Link swore he’d never seen before in his life–but he felt like he knew him. He felt some sort of deep connection to this man that had helped him in almost every step he took. He’d started pushing his way through dungeons for the hope of seeing Sheik again (and getting closer to Zelda), and it had yet to fail him.

“Love can manifest in different ways for different people. It is not so straightforward,” Sheik said, turning to look at him. Link tilted his head, those eyes as red as blood searching into his mind, his heart. “Do not let it trouble you, Hero. If you are in love, then that is alright. No one is here to hold it against you. We are social creatures at heart.”

“And if the one I love isn’t… if she doesn’t–” A frustrating thing indeed. Link took a breath and shook his head. “I need to serve Hyrule first. If I don’t get to Ganondorf and slaughter him where he stands, then I guess it doesn’t really matter.”

“Do what you must,” Sheik said. “But whoever this woman is, she will be waiting for you.”

Link leaned his head against the brick again, letting his eyes close. He wanted to ask if there was a way to undo the tangled knots in his heart, or if Sheik would wait for him to figure himself out, too.

But love was not meant to be understood. It was a complicated thing, and wandering hearts would do what they did best.

[istanleyff7]

TOTP, Episode Aerith, Scenes 15-21

Final Fantasy VII Remake: Traces of Two Pasts Episode 2: Aerith Scenes 15-21 A Light Novel by Kazushige Nojima Translated by Stanley (@istanleyff7 on twitter) Scene 15

"My mother and I think alike. There are too many names, and we didn't know whether they're good or not. So we said, that's good enough. This name will be somewhat fine. Whew, perfect.'

"But you're Aerith now, aren't you? So there was an issue after all?

"Yeah it was a big one. In terms of the number of incidents, I don't think you’ll beat me to it, Tifa."

She let out a huge sigh, and Tifa then showed sympathy for her struggles.

Scene 16

It was the day after they decided on the name 'Rona'. Marvin came down in the morning, Roger in the evening. And the day after that, Bauman came down in the morning and Lewis in the evening. All of them brought gifts for Rona, the daughter of a relative taken in by Elmyra Gainsborough. She was the wife and the representative of Clay, the second in charge, who was the representative of Gabriel, the first in charge. Apparently, the news spread quickly to everyone who was related to the business. The old-fashioned room on the second floor turned into a vibrant space full of primary colours because of the children's souvenirs.

Aerith particularly liked the 'animal cards' and 'plant cards' that Bauman had brought over. With Elmyra's permission, she pasted the cards on the wall. She was able to lose track of time gazing at the illustrations of unknown creatures. It's not that she didn't like the other gifts - such as the books and the dolls. Whatever it was, the experience of receiving things like gifts and souvenirs was new and exciting. Except in the mornings and evenings when she had to attend to her guests, mainly the members that were the third in charge, Elmyra still spent her time outside. Rodin secretly told Aerith that Elmyra no longer went to the station but roamed around the slums. She wonders if Clay was wandering the streets because he couldn't go home for some reason. That's what she thinks.

Scene 17

"And then, the night came."

Tifa then nodded quietly next to her.

"My mother, Ifalna, came that night and looked down the corridor with a troubled look on her face. I got out of bed, opened the door and looked down the aisle. I could see the light downstairs. I went down and saw my mother, Elmyra, washing the dishes and scrubbing them clean in the kitchen. I could smell the grass. It had a thick, stuffy smell. I thought I heard voices, and I saw a trooper standing at the door."

Scene 18

Aerith thought that Shinra's soldiers had come to take her away. Startled, he called for Elmyra, but she did not move. Her voice was not heard, and the trooper turned to look at her. Then he took off his helmet. He was the man she had only seen in pictures.

"Clay?"

His face was dirty, and when looked closely, he could be seen covered in mud. He really looked like he had been wandering around a lot.

"Welcome back, Clay."

However, Clay was only just looking around his surroundings and looked like he was unsure where to go. Elmyra didn't notice him, even though the Clay she loves was right over there!

"Mummy!"

Sure enough, she can't hear her.

“Clay!”

Clay closes his eyes tightly and opens them again. He probably thought that this would change the scene in front of him. What was he seeing? He closed and opened them again and rubbed them with the back of his hands repeatedly. He let out a loud sigh and then crouched down at where he stood. Even though she tried to get closer, her legs would not move.

"Clay!"

As expected, Aerith couldn't be heard. Clay sprawled his body on the floor, and it looked like he used all his strength to do so. His lips were moving. Aerith wondered what he was saying and then focused on his consciousness.

“Elmyra, I'm sorry,” Aerith felt that he said that.

"Clay, no! Mummy, please look here!" Aerith yelled.

After that, she woke up. She was on her own bed. However, she firmly believed that it was not a dream. Clay passed away. Moments before his death, his spirit connected with the planet, and he probably went to see the place he had wanted to visit the most before he died. She wondered if he had seen Elmyra.

Aerith got out of bed, went downstairs, and saw Elmyra standing in the kitchen, washing the dishes. There was no longer any unusual smell.

"Mummy."

How should she tell her?

"Mummy, don't cry."

Elmyra turned around with a puzzled expression.

"What's wrong?"

"A man you really really love just died. His heart came a long way to say goodbye. But he couldn't stay 'cause he had to return to the planet."

Elmyra looked at her in silence.

"Are you saying that Clay is dead?"

"Yes. But, I think he had properly returned to the planet."

"Aerith. Go back to your bed."

There was undeniable anger in her voice. Aerith's chest tightened.

"Mummy..."

"Go back to your bed."

"Clay had returned to the planet. He'll always be connected with you, Mummy. That's why..."

Elmyra forcefully took Aerith in her arms, carried her up the stairs and put her back in bed as if she were luggage. She slammed the door and left, with her anger lingering in the room. Aerith covered herself with her blanket and cried. She wasn't crying because she had angered Elmyra. She was sad that Elmyra could not see Clay.

She felt Ifalna's presence was very close to her. Even though she had her blanket, she knew it was her.

"Mummy..."

She peered out of the blanket and saw a kind face, but Ifalna looked different than usual. Aerith could see the wall through her face, and she could see through Ifalna's body. She looked like Clay just before he disappeared.

"Mummy!"

Aerith jumped up in a panic. Her mother's face blended in with the patterns on the wall. Her lips were moving, and she was saying something, but Aerith couldn't hear anything. She reached out to feel Ifalna, but she lost her balance and fell off the bed. Her whole body hurt, but she bore with it and searched for her mother. Her whole body was disappearing, and her mouth was moving. As expected, she couldn't hear her voice, and she completely disappeared. There was no longer a sign of anyone.

↞↠

The next day was quiet. When Aerith woke up, Elmyra had already left the house. She had prepared a simple meal for her and left a note saying that she would be out until evening before returning home and that she would not have any guests today. Aerith finished her meal and went back upstairs to her room. She opened a drawer from her desk and took out a small pouch. In it, was a white materia that Ifalna had given her. She placed it on the palm of her hand and grasped it tightly. She then felt at ease. That was the only thing that did not change.

In the evening, the door opened quietly. The sound of footsteps, followed by the pull of a chair, can be heard if listened carefully. Aerith concealed her footsteps and headed downstairs. She saw Elmyra sitting at her usual seat at the dining table, sprawled on the table, and could hear her weeping. Elmyra probably noticed Aerith's presence and turned around to look at her. Her eyes were deep red.

"The news came from Shinra. The helicopter he was on crashed into the forest. Because he went away from the crash site, it seems that they discovered him late. He probably tried to exit the forest. Why didn't he just stand by and wait? He was always like that."

"He wanted to see you, Mummy. That's why he walked. He came to see you."

"And then he returned to the Planet? Stop talking about that already."

"But..."

"Why did he return to the Planet! His home is here, isn't it? Shouldn't this be the only place he returns to? That's a reason why he couldn't do that, and because of that, he's dead. No matter what anyone says, Clay's already..."

Elmyra raised her cries and bawled like a child. Aerith chest tightened by the sight of an adult crying.

"But even so, he returned to the Planet! We are connected with the Planet! That's why he'll always be together with you!"

"Aerith, I beg you. Stop it already, please."

"But I lost my Mummy Ifalna too! I won't believe that she didn't return to the Planet, I won't!"

↞↠

Over the next few days, Elmyra and Aerith were companions overcome by grief. They spent their time together, huddled together, and the warmth of each other's body was an antidote that relieved their loneliness. Butch and colleagues took turns to come and check on them after hearing of Clay's death. It seemed that Rodin told his colleagues to deliver Elmyra some food after finding out that Elmyra had even lost the will to do her house chores. Carlo appeared on behalf of Meguro, who was not feeling well. It was Aerith's first time meeting him. He was a tall, thin young man and had black, wet-looking hair combed down backwards. He seemed restless and always had some part of his body moving. Aerith was afraid of him at first because he gave a strong hooligan-like impression, but he was kind to Aerith from the start. To her surprise, Carlo volunteered to do all the house chores. Elmyra disliked him, but she tolerated him coming in and out of the house. Her spirits must have been so low.

A week or so has passed. There was a loud noise of tableware breaking in the kitchen. It did not seem like minor damage. Elmyra and Aerith were upstairs, but they couldn't ignore it and went to take a look at the situation.

Elmyra stared at the vast number of broken fragments scattered about the floor. Carlo drooped his head to the side.

"Is this expensive?"

"I have no idea. These were collected and given by Gabriel when Clay and I first got together."

"That probably isn't cheap... Or should I say, it's perhaps an exceptionally top-grade item? My apologies, Elmyra. I looked in the cupboard and saw a lot of dust... I can’t stand things being dusty, so I couldn't help myself but clean it..."

Elmyra was still staring at the fragments, ignoring Carlo, who was looking at her. Carlo, having given up on words of forgiveness, squatted down and began to pick up the broken pieces.

"Hey, Carlo. Can you go home now?”

"Elmyra," he said in a shameful voice. "Give me a chance."

"It's not that. If you pick up the pieces like that, won't you hurt yourself? I'll clean up afterwards. You go back. I'll talk to Meguro and tell him that you've helped a lot. Yes, that's the truth. You've helped me out."

Carlo's face lit up.

"You are so simple. You have to hide your emotions more to get ahead in this world."

"Ahhh, right."

Carlo slapped himself on the face, and his expression changed.

"Well then, I'll get going now, and call me if anything comes up. And, about the injury on your face, I'm sorry."

"I fell on my own, you know."

"No..." Carlo shook his head in denial. "I don't know how to apologise to Clay otherwise."

His voice was trembling. They looked at Carlo in surprise. He was crying.

"'He was a good man. He was always there for me when I made a fool of myself, scolding me and even connected me to Gabriel. I can't believe he's gone..."

"Hey, don't cry. It isn't cool."

The usual Elmyra was back. Carlo rubbed the area around his eyes with his arm and grinned.

“You too,” he awkwardly remarked and left.

"Well then..." Elmyra said as she looked around the house, "They've cleaned the place pretty well, but it's far off my standards! I'll have to clean the whole house. Aerith. No, Rona. Do you have the energy to help?"

"Yup!"

Aerith was surprised by her own cheerful voice.

Scene 19

"Then we did a major cleanup of the whole house together. Firstly, we cleared the broken fragments, then we opened all the windows and used a feather duster and a broom to get rid of the dust and the tears — Mum loves to clean, she has many brooms and mops in the house. She cut the handle of one of them with a saw for my use. We wiped the house down the next day. Once the house was clean, it was time to remodel the home. We decided to change the curtains in my room and the cover of my bed. It was then that we went shopping for the first time. It was the first time that we went out together.”

Scene 20

They were walking down an alleyway that continued from the front of their house and went past the neighbourhood "Sector 5 House" orphanage. Children around the same age as Aerith leapt out and blocked their way.

"You're Rona, right?", "Rona? She's Rona?", "You're an orphan?" , "Nope, I heard she's an adopted kid. How lucky!", "Come live here!", "How cute...", "Why are you so flashy?"

Aerith was disorientated by the rapid succession of crude remarks pouring down onto her and hid behind Elmyra. She felt uncomfortable because she wasn't addressed by 'Rona' when it was just the both of them back home. After Carlo left, the self-consciousness that she's Rona was also diminishing. She was feeling nervous, and then someone touched her hair from the side. Startled by the suddenness, Aerith let out a small shriek.

"Ayumu, stop it!"

An older boy yelled.

"If you pick on Rona, you'll get in trouble."

"I wasn't picking on her!"

"Yeah, she wasn't. I was just shocked. She isn't a bad kid."

"If that's the case, it's fine, but..."

"No, no, this is not fine." Elmyra butted in. "Jean, who would y'all get in trouble with?"

"Carlo said so."

Elmyra frowned at the reply of Jean, the older boy.

"Did you hear about Rona from Carlo?"

"Yup, that's right. If we make Rona from the Gainsborough household cry, he'll make us cry threefold."

Elmyra let out a sigh.

"Well, Rona, don't be shy. Say hi to them. These kids are from the Sector 5 House. They're like neighbours to us, so be nice to them, okay?"

Aerith was now ready.

"Hello, I'm Rona. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you!" A cheerful voice replied.

"I'm Sarah", "I'm Zoey", "I'm Glad", "I'm Yoko", "This is Ayumu. She's my sister."

Ayumu was the girl who touched her hair.

"'I'm Jean,' said the older boy at last. "You can come and play with us whenever you want."

"Okay, thank you."

"Do you want to play now?"

Ayumu invited her. The children all looked at her with eyes of expectancy, and that tickled Aerith. It was the first time that so many children of the same age, even though it's six of them, were staring at her. When she was at a loss as to how to respond, Elmyra stepped in to help.

"My bad, you all, but we're going shopping today. I'd like Rona to choose lots of things, so I can't leave her here. Please let her play with you all next time."

Elmyra took Aerith by the hand, and after a short distance, she looked back to see the children staring at her. One of the children, who introduced herself as Sarah, waved her tiny hand across her chest. After she waved back, the other children waved wildly in return. What a happy sight, wasn't it? Until they were out of sight, Aerith turned around and continued to wave her hand.

"It seems like you all can get along, doesn't it?"

"Yup!"

Aerith was then introduced to numerous acquaintances of Elmyra, including a café owner and the town doctor. They were all very friendly. Before they parted, Elmyra told them about Clay's death as if it were just another topic. Before they could express any surprise or words of condolences or sympathy, she would add, "I miss him, but having her helps me take my mind off him."

Before the slight smile on their faces faded off, Elmyra would walk away.

"I'm sorry, Aerith, for using this as an excuse to end the conversation. But I don't want to talk too much about Clay. It's probably better for me to talk about it, but for now, let me do this, please."

"Okay. I'm fine with it. But, I'm Rona, right?"

"Ahhh, yes. Rona. Even when it's just the both of us, I'll still have to address you as 'Rona'."

↞↠

It was one week after the introduction of Rona. Aerith was playing with the children in front of the Sector 5 House when she saw Meguro walking down the road. His pure white suit stood out against the earthy-coloured road. She was told earlier that he was coming over to visit and promised Elmyra that she would play at the House until then. A boy, probably around ten years old, was walking behind him. He was wearing relaxed-fitting trousers, a bright white shirt and had a bored look on his face. There was also a girl who walked up behind him. She was wearing a skirt, with the hem almost touching the ground, which was a rarity in the slums. She pinched her area around her thighs, and it looked like she had difficulty walking. She was wearing an ornate blouse and a large hat. With one look, they were three people who appeared to be well off.

"Oh!"

'Rona' (Aerith) understood the meaning of what she was seeing. Even though the impression was that Meguro was coming over alone, that was not the case. He had brought his children with him. In other words, the real Rona had come.

She apologised to her playmates and ran down the road. She then ran through the planked road in the garden and darted into the house.

"'Mummy, it's Mr Meguro. He's with his children. The real Rona is here!"

Elmyra did not seem too disturbed.

"'He didn't tell me that he would be with his children."

"What should we do?

"You mean the name? He isn't a shallow guy. He'll understand. I'm sure he already knows it too."

Meguro first introduced his son, Marcellus, then his daughter, Rona. Rona was looking at Aerith, who was not hiding her curiosity. Meguro then opened his attache case and took out three white flowers. He gives one to Marcellus and the other to Rona. Elmyra looked at the remaining one, which Meguro was holding onto.

"I'm sorry that these flowers are fake, but there's no way I would steal flowers from your garden."

Elmyra nodded and pointed at the photo frame on top of the table. It had a picture of a father and son, Clay and Gabriel, together. They looked as though they were brothers. Meguro and his children placed a flower in front of the picture. They crossed their fingers in front of their chest, put their palms together and closed their eyes. Aerith wondered what they were doing, and she looked at them with her mouth agape. Eventually, they opened their eyes and looked at Meguro. Aerith hurriedly closed her mouth.

"Is it unusual to pray? I'm old-fashioned, so this is how I convey my thoughts to the dead."

"Can you actually convey your thoughts?"

Marcellus snorted after she asked, and he probably felt fear the next moment as Meguro glared at him. Aerith glanced at Rona for a moment. Their eyes met, and Rona smiled.

"That's what I believe, and the important thing is to believe. Gabriel used to tell me often that it is the foundation of everything."

Elmyra was listening, and she quietly nodded.

"Well, Elmyra. I would have immediately come over, but my body didn't allow me to," Meguro said apologetically.

"It's alright. You sent Carlo over, didn't you? He really helped me out."

"How was Carlo?"

"He worked as though he was a different person, I can't help but wonder if something strange happened.”

"Clay was someone he adored dearly like his own brother, you know. I think he wanted to repay Clay by helping you out. He probably was so aggressive towards you all the time because he didn't like that you took him away from him, Elmyra.

"That's childish of him. Nope, I was the same as him too. Clay always took Carlo with him when he goes out for the night,  and I can't tell you how many times I've complained about it."

"Hey, I'm thirsty," Marcellous muttered to his father. He was pouting.

"What should you do if you're thirsty?"

The boy looked annoyed for a moment, but he quickly realised what he should do and asked Elmyra for a drink.

"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't notice. I'll be right with you."

As Elmyra was preparing the drinks, Rona came running up to Aerith.

"I was born in March. What month were you born in Aerith?

"I was born in February."

"Ahhh, so you're only a month older than I am."

"She's not Aerith. She's Rona, isn't she? She stole your name," Marcellus condemned.

"I don't mind at all, okay?" Rona uttered with a smile.

She truly didn't seem to mind. However, there was a premise amongst everyone that Aerith stole her name. Aerith felt pain in her breathing as if her heart had been clenched."

"About that..."

Elmyra was carrying a tray of lemonade. She handed them out to everyone, interrupting Aerith.

"Meguro, I was thinking of a new name for Aerith at your suggestion, but I didn't decide on it properly, and Aerith had to introduce herself suddenly. And at that time, she replied 'Rona' on the spur of the moment."

"After I heard from Mr Meguro about Rona, I wondered what she was like. I wondered if I could meet her and wondered whether we could get along. I kept thinking about Rona, so I said her name."

"It's my fault that I didn't control the situation properly. Since the word has been spread across the neighbourhood, may we leave her name like that?"

Meguro gave a composed nod.

"Of course. There shouldn't be an issue."

"I'm happy about it!" Rona's voice lit up. "After all, you liked the name, didn't you? My mama thought up the name 'Rona' and named me that."

"But she died after giving birth to you, though."

Marcellus struck his sister in the shoulder, and the expression on Rona's face completely went away.

"Marcellus, if you blame Rona for that again, I'll throw you out of the house," Meguro declared with a low voice.

"Okay." Marcellus nodded. He looked like he was sulking.

He was foaming and playing with the lemonade, blowing it through a straw inserted in the glass. He was having fun gushing the lemonade out from the glass and getting the table wet. It's going to be tough getting along with this boy, Aerith thought. But Elmyra trusts Meguro, and that was his son. She decided to make peace with it all and went ahead with it.

"Then we will also..." Meguro uttered, "address you as Rona, not Aerith. It's important to make a habit of these things regularly."

"Rona, nice to meet you," said the real Rona.

"Nice to meet you, Rona," Aerith replied. "Marcellus, nice to meet you too."

There was no response.

"Okay, children. We have some business to attend to, so you all can go outside and play. Only in the garden, though. Don't go into the alley."

"Understood."

Marcellus replied firmly and drank his lemonade in one gulp. Rona imitated him in a hurry and Aerith also did so, but she choked and spilled some on the table. Elmyra laughed and pressed her to go off quickly.

When they went out into the garden, they saw Jean and his friends from Sector 5 House watching them from the garden entrance.

"'Pathetic orphans!” Marcellus spat and waved at them.

"'Hey~!”

"What should we do, big brother? Orphans are scary."

"We don't have to worry since we've got a powerful dad."

The conversation between them made Aerith nervous. She had a feeling that something terrible was going to happen.

"Come on, y'all!" Marcellus called out for them in a cheerful voice.

"Is it alright if we come over?" Jean asks again.

"Of course. Let's play 'Tickling Ogre'."

"What's that? We don't know what that is."

Jean came into the garden accompanied by a group of children from the Sector 5 House. There were around two or three faces Aerith didn't recognize.

“It's a game that's popular in the Sector 4 Slums. Ahh, you all won't know that since you all live in an orphanage.”

Aerith did not overlook the gloominess that dwelled in Jean's eyes. But Ayumu was still young and unaware of Marcellus' malicious intent.

"Sounds interesting! Can you teach us how to play 'Tickling Ogre'? Hey, what're your names?" asked Ayumu.

"I'm Marcellus."

"I'm Rona."

The siblings introduced themselves. Aerith braced herself nervously.

"Ehhh? There are two Ronas!" Ayumu looked at Jean with an amazed look on her face.

"It's not a rare coincidence," Jean replied with a know-it-all look.

"It's a coincidence, alright."

Marcellus said in a low voice and looked triumphantly at Aerith.

"She stole the name of my little sister over here. Her real name is Aerith. She's Aerith, the name thief. Right?"

There was a grin on Marcellus' face. All the children who were there looked at Aerith.

"I'm not a thief! I'm not a thief!

"All thieves say that," Marcellus, who has finally shown his true colours, mocked her.

"Stop it, big brother!" Rona pleaded, but Marcellus didn't seem to hear her.

"I'm not a thief!"

That was the only thing she did not want to admit.

"Name thief."

"I'm not!"

Her voice was hoarse. She thought to herself that she should not cry, but tears rolled out of her eyes.

"I'm not!"

"You're an orphan, aren't you? You know what? You suit being at an orphanage. But you went into Clay's house. How clever!” Marcellus showed his disgust.

"Shut up!"

Someone rammed himself into Marcellus. It was Jean. With a short period of anguish, Marcellus falls on his back. Another boy pinned Marcellus down. His name was X. He doesn't usually play with the others much and instead helps the teachers. He was a small boy, but he must have been three or four years older than Aerith.

"Stop it! Get out of the way!"

"Don't make fun of the House!" X shouted.

"Shabby orphans, poverty-stricken orphans," Marcellus' abusive language did not stop.

"Fight! Fight!" the girls cheered on.

The children's violence made Aerith cower in fear.

"Stop it!" Rona shouted. "Big brother, apologise to them!"

X grabbed the collar of Marcellus' shirt and shook him.

"The first one that should apologise is Aerith! She's the name thief."

Marcellus did not give in. Jean looked down the alley and then at the door of the Gainsborough house.

"I'm sorry. It's my fault. I used Rona's name without her permission."

"You used it without her permission? Tell them you stole it!

"That's not true."

X slapped Marcellus on the cheek.

"Stop it!"

Aerith felt as though she had been struck. She did not feel like standing up for Marcellus, but she felt this was too much.

"Stop it, X.”

"Not unless he apologises. I can't forgive him for making a fool of us and the House.”

"Apologise!"

X shouted and was about to strike him again.

"Aerith first!"

Aerith wanted it to be over.

"I'm sorry. I stole Rona's name. I'm sorry, Rona. I'm sorry, Marcellus."

She was in tears. Jean moved and helped X up to his feet. Marcellus, now free, staggered to his feet.

"Hmm. You finally admit it."

There was a trickle of blood oozing from the cut on his mouth. His whole body was trembling. He looked as if he was doing his best to keep up a bold front.

"You're next. Apologise for insulting our House."

Marcellus slowly looked at Jean, then at the children of the House.

Then he grinned...

"Poverty-stricken orphanage!"

Firstly, Jean, X and the children whose names she did not know because it was the first time she saw them, jumped onto Marcellus one after another. Another fight had begun. Rona then let out a scream and ran to the Gainsborough house. That was it! She should have called for help from the start! Aerith also chased after Rona. Just as Rona was about to put her hand on the door, it opened, and Meguro appeared. He understood the situation at an instant.

"Hey!"

It was an angry voice that sounded like it gushed from the depths of the earth. Aerith could not imagine Meguro other than what he usually was, and she shuddered. The same was for the children who were fighting. Elmyra was astonished as she appeared by the doorway. Leaving Aerith, Rona and Elmyra behind, Meguro shortened the distance between him and the children.

"Run!" either Jean or X shouted.

The children of the House quickly disappeared into the alley. Meguro grabbed Marcellus by the ear as he stood there and brought him back to the Gainsborough house. Marcellus stumbled along, exclaiming that it hurt.

"I'm seriously fed up with you."

"They came into the garden. I tried to chase them away, but they started it."

"That's the reason for your actions?"

"It was firstly Aerith's fault."

"It has been settled. Rona and I gave her permission. It has nothing to do with you."

"But...!"

"You have to be smarter than that! How many times do I have to tell you for you to understand? Listen, Marcellus. You don't have a mother. Whenever you mess up, they'll say it's because you don't have a mother. You'll be smearing mud on the face of your mother and me, you understand?" Meguro continued to pull Marcellus's ear while scolding him.

"Meguro, that's about time to stop it."

Elmyra could not keep watching this and gently pressed down Meguro's hand.

"Yeah, I know."

Meguro then let go of Marcellus' ear―

"Aerith, I'm sorry. Please forgive Marcellus. He's a moron, but he did what he did because he thought of his little sister. Please forgive him for Rona's and my sake."

Marcellus was behind Meguro, glaring at her. Aerith was okay to accept whatever conditions so that she could put an end to this mess now.

"It's okay. It's my fault. I'm really sorry."

Aerith faced Meguro, Marcellus and Rona and apologised to them individually. Lastly, she looked up at Elmyra, and she gave her a tiny nod.

"Well then, Elmyra. Let's finish up the job. Rona and Aerith, you can go inside. Marcellus, you'll stay here and reflect."

Once inside the house, Aerith was looking out of the window at Marcellus. She wondered if that was what monsters were like. Soon it was time for Meguro and the others to leave.

"I'll stop by the orphanage to warn them. They are not to enter the Gainsborough garden. And if anything happens to Aerith... no... Rona, the orphanage may disappear. I probably should nail that into them that much."

"No, Meguro. I'll talk to them. I'm very close to the adults there. I'd like to keep things peaceful."

"...Well, if you like it that way, then it's fine. It's your property. But if you ever need my face, feel free to turn to me. Don’t need to hesitate."

He was no longer the kind-looking gentleman that Aerith met at first. That was a front for the children.

While she was vaguely thinking about that, Rona ran up to her and whispered, "My name, I'll let you use it, okay? You're special, Aerith."

Rona was both kind and cruel.

Scene 21

"Hey, is the Sector 5 House that Jean and the others were from, different from the Leaf House?"

Tifa, who had been listening in silence, raised the question.

"It's the same, it's the same. If I recall correctly, the 'Lower Class Sector 5 House' was the official name, and Sector 5 House was the common name. That name was changed to the 'Leaf House'. I didn't know it at the time, but there was a rumour that its proprietors were selling kids away."

"Ehhh!?"

"It seems that neither the children nor teachers knew about it. Negotiations were then held with the house's proprietors by X, and he bought the house over. He was one of the kids that stood up against Marcellus and had grown up."

"I see. There was a fellow Avalanche member who had been aiding the orphanage he was raised in, so I thought he was related to this, but it seems like it's different..."

Tifa looked disappointed.

"Biggs?"

"You know him!?"

"I never met him, but a lot of the teachers and kids were talking about him. He was respected... ahhh!?"

Due to shock, Aerith's voice unconsciously became louder.

"X is Biggs!"

"What do... you mean?"

"He didn't have a name because he was picked up as a baby. So the people in the House decided to call him 'X' until his name was decided. He liked the alias, and he kept calling himself 'X'. He declared that he would give himself the best name one day."

When the kids at the House found out that Aerith's name 'Rona' was fake, the reactions were mixed. But only X, talked about the situation about his name and consoled her. It was better to decide one’s name on one’s own.

Aerith saw Tifa's eyes welling up.

"Amazing, Biggs... You were amazing... I have to tell Barret about this too." ↞↠ You’re on page 93/142 of Aerith’s segment of the Light Novel. to be continued Next Scenes: Scenes 22-27 Previous Scenes: Scenes 10-14 Back to Content Page (click/tap here) follow @istanleyff7​ on twitter for updates support the TOTP translation project financially here (click/tap here)