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copiousloverofcopia · 2 years ago

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Because I couldn't help myself... Enjoy 😈

Jesus He Knows Me

Also available HERE on A03!

Definitely NSFW below the cut!

He walked towards his car, parked just outside of the house of the Lord he called his own. It was late, street lights lit up like stars illuminating the street as he took his leave. The dear priest sighed to himself, another long day spent with his right hand lifted in praise of Jesus and the other handing out the collection basket. He kept his true self hidden in plain sight from the masses and knew his time for penance would come before the dawn.

Jim pulled loose his collar, tucking the white tab in his pocket as he reached for his keys. His ear, ever listening—waiting. It wasn't long before, and as if by magic, that the telltale sound of blasphemous rock music came rolling up behind him. The eerie melodic sounds coming from an otherwise quiet car. The vehicle was long and sleek. Black as the night and tinted windows that dare not even let the light of God inside them.

Father Jim smiled, pulling his key back out from the lock and turning to face the car as it pulled up behind him. The priest, standing there in the moonlight ready for them. His body shadowed over by the large cross that stood proudly atop the steeple. Within seconds a familiar man in a mask had rolled down the window. Not a man at all but something else, something that looked of science fiction and deceit, beckoning Jim to listen as he addressed him. "Father…"

"Yes, my child?" Jim asked smugly.

"You know where we're going?" The masked ghoul asked, his sharp canines catching the glint off the street lights as he smirked.

"Of course." Jim nodded, the door to the back seat opening up for him.

Before he knew it, they had arrived. Car pulling up to the large wooden doors outside the Ministry. Father Jim bit his lip. Tasting the tang of his blood and feeling his pants tightening up at the mere sight of the building.

The masked man opened the door for him. The father stepped out, adjusting the lay of his jacket as he walked inside. This church belonged to a much more malevolent God, or so he preached compared to that of his own. He made his way to the chapel, giddy as a schoolgirl for what awaited him inside.

The doors pulled wide open, revealing his true place of worship. The chapel was open and quiet, the smell of ashes and incense filling his senses. Father Jim's eyes, darted straight to the lavishly dressed and skull painted man at the lectern. Papa Emeritus IV had called for him—and like a good Catholic boy he did as he was told.

"Jim…" Copia said, acknowledging his presence and finishing up a note before looking up from his papers.

"Papa." The priest responded, falling to his knees before him in the center of the nave. Copia looked down at him, cracking a smile before rounding the lectern and standing before him. He was menacing and beautiful, Jim thought to himself.

"So eager to please are we?" Copia teased, watching the swell beneath the Father's trousers grow.

"Always Papa…ah…" Jim whimpered as Copia pressed his shoe against the his hard cock.

"Hmmm…Jimmy. How delicious is the sin of Lust for which all of his wayward flock succumb." Copia hissed. Father Jim's jaw, becoming lax and mouth falling open. A trail of saliva finding its way along the side of his lip.

"I'm hungry Papa, please." He begged, Copia quickly removed the shoe from his crotch and turned around. Pacing the room in thought as he secretly wanted to watch as the clergyman suffered.

"Have you been sinful? Greedily spreading the so-called 'word' of you God...only for your personal gain?"

"Yes, Papa...I must confess. I have been prideful and gluttonous." He admitted. Copia turned to face him. White eye, burning with need. Jim swallowed back, feeling his heart pounding within his chest and his blood surging through his veins..

"Good. That's what I like to hear. Now come to Papa and receive communion." Copia purred. Jim attempted to stand up when Copia growled at him. "No! Crawl, crawl on your belly like the serpent. Show me how much you really want to be saved."

"Yes, your Excellency." He abided, crawling towards Copia on his belly and slowly moving to all fours. The front of his pants dampened, leaving a streak across the marble tile in his own precum. The scent of lust, emanating from him as he got closer. Copia took a deep inhale just as Jim reached him.

"You smell of semen, fitting for a filthy slut such as you are. Your kind, living in the new Sodom and Gomorrah of the times." He responded, sending a wink to the ghouls to leave them. Copia pushed his ornate blue and bronze robes to the side, freeing himself. Jim could hardly believe it as Papa's magnificent cock hung in front of him. Like a vision from Heaven above, revealed to the Father for worship. Leaky and thick, begging to be taken.

Papa took hold of Jim's jaw, running his thumb along the fluff of beard hair that graced it, pulling it all the way open for him. Allowing Jim to watch as he stroked himself. Jim felt his own cock twitch and pulse with anticipation. The Father's drooling, becoming obscene as he stared hungrily at the phallus before him.

"Please Papa. I have been such a good boy." Jim whined, shifting on his knees below him.

"Tell me what I want to hear. The words so sweet from your lips the night before your God's resurrection�� tell me them and I will slip my cock into this greedy, filthy mouth." Copia commanded, running the swollen red tip over Jim's anxious lips.

"Hail Sa–" Jim began before cutting himself off. Suddenly Copia's shoe was back on his erection again. Pressing so hard Jim couldn't help but let out a yelp.

"I said SAY them Father, and I did NOT stutter." Copia snapped, continuing to dig his heel into him.

"Hail Satan!" Jim cried out, feeling as though he might explode. Copia began to chuckle, continuing to pleasure himself—his own hand brought him close to the edge.

"Good boy. Now you want the Eucharist Father? Then you shall have it in HIS name." Papa groaned, hands firmly grabbing the back of Jim's head. Slamming his cock past his lips into his throat. The father gagged a bit, tears pricking his eyes as he swallowed and gulped. Taking every inch of satanic panic he could.

Copia moaned, relishing the feel of his cock in such a pious mouth. Jim hummed along Papa's length, slurping and licking as his other hand reached to caress Papa's tensed sack. Copia panted heavy as the two men worked together as one. Thrusting into Jim's willing throat, the priest desperately trying not to cum on himself as he sucked on Copia's swollen shaft.

"Hsssss….no teeth." Copia groaned as Jim's teeth grazed the underside of his cock. Jim tried to mutter an apology, but his mouth was so full it only sounded like an amalgamation of disconnected, wet syllables between moans.

Soon Papa was close, his belly taut and his cock pulsing and ready. He drove himself deep into the back of Jim's throat a few times before popping his cock out from the Father's mouth. Spit stringing in the air like webs between them. Copia took his sex back into his own hands. Jerking himself hard and fast until he spilled his hot seed all over the father's face. fathery Jim's beard and mouth covered in sinful bliss as he smiled.

The father licked his lips, savoring the bitter yet salty taste of damnation Papa so graciously bestowed upon him. Copia stumbled over to the altar. Breathing ragged and cock soft and spent. Trying to compose himself before he spoke again. Jim got up on his feet, pants covered in cum from his own inevitable release.

Copia saw it, tightening his grip on his alb before letting out a groan. "You slut. How dare you cum without permission. Now be a good Father and drop the pants. Give me that tight hole of yours. Tonight is my time to rise again and make you mine. But not JUST mine Jimmy...you make wonderful fodder for my ghouls once I'm done with you." Copia hissed, Jim nodding in acknowledgement.

The rest of the night was a blur. Sex, fire, pain, pleasure. It all swirled together to where one was no longer distinguishable from another. Father Jim, the devout Catholic who led his parish with a heavy emphasis on giving—without getting, had been got. A man of the cloth, nothing but a heathen in the night. His ass offered up to Papa and his ghouls over and over again until they needed him not anymore. Leaving his clerical suit, covered in sweat and cum from his worship.

Jim was slowly coming to. The memory of the night before, returning to him as he opened his eyes—unsure of how he'd gotten home. It was then he realized the sun was too bright for behind his window. The smell of the air, too crisp and fresh from within his room. The birds chirping loudly finally alerted him to what he feared.

He sat up quick to find his naked body, covered in scratches and sticky from cum, on full display in the front of his church. His true nature—unhidden by his faith or cloth in front of everyone on Easter Sunday. He scrambled to collect himself. Rushing into the church, past the parishioners like lightning crashing to the sky. Papa had outted him on one of his holiest days. He was a whore and a sinner—and what a common sinner that he was.

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scottspack · 4 years ago

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SO YOU JUST FINISHED THE UNTAMED AND YOU WANT TO READ SOME FIC

Congratulations Jen @jlf23tumble on finishing The Untamed (tomorrow)! Now that you’re done with the show (tomorrow), you can finally dive into the wide and wonderful world of untamed fic!!! I’m ecstatic to be personally curating your reading experience! LET’S BEGIN!

I’ve started off with a list of 5 fics I think you should read in this specific order to 1. get some resolution from the end of the show and 2. get you acclimated to untamed fics! Then, I’ve listed a bunch of fics in different categories for your perusal to read at your leisure! This is an unbelievably long post holy shit brace yourself.

I’m like fairly certain that all of these follow the tv show canon BUT also its very typical for authors to combine many aspects of all of the different forms of canons to their liking. Therefore, I feel like I need to give a quick explanation of a couple things from the novel that show up frequently in fics that idk if you know already or not:

In the book, when Wei Wuxian is resurrected, he is brought back in Mo Xuanyu’s actual body and has his face and everything. Mo Xuanyu was pretty young when he died, I wanna say maybe 17 or 18??? and he was also short and pretty and flamboyantly gay. This is where the references to their crazy height difference come from, but again, I think I tried to include mostly fics that skew more heavily to the tv version where WWX keeps his same body and he and LWJ are more evenly matched physically.

Its novel canon that LWJ smells like sandalwood incense and has golden colored eyes. This is mentioned in like almost every single wangxian fic ive ever read, even if the author said they were strictly adhering to show canon lol

At the end of the novel wangxian run away together and elope! Obviously in the show that’s not how it goes down, but I think a couple of the fics I’ve recced might mention it in passing. (Oh also when they elope they make a pact to fuck “everyday,” a concept that might be mentioned as well.

Obviously, we have to kick it off with some fics that both reunite wangxian and give more resolution to the actual show. If you’re like me, it both took you a while to get all the way through the show AND took 100% of your brain power to remember all of the characters and plot lines. If that’s that case: these fics should be helpful in serving as a kind of emotional refresher for the show to wrap up some loose ends and to dive deeper into some of the things the show glosses over for one reason or another!

1. A Lot of Edges Called Perhaps by hansbekhart (Wangxian, E, 21k)

The funny part is - and it is a little funny, even if Wei Wuxian has no one left to share the joke with - they never have. Not anything. He has never kissed any part of Lan Zhan besides his slim hands; never been even partially undressed with him anywhere besides a miserable, xuanwu-infested cave. It’s always been like this between them, this simmering need, this desperate understanding: a knowledge so deep that it lives somewhere in his bones, that if he wanted to have Lan Zhan he could have him, and if Lan Zhan wanted Wei Wuxian he could have that too. But they never have.

I found this fic on someone’s blog when they said that it was the definitive fic to read directly after finishing the series so i saved it, read it directly after finishing the series, and felt COMPLETE. Beautifully written, seamlessly fits with canon, and has a super fulfilling resolution. The perfect way to kick off reading untamed fic!

2. One Rogue Spark In My Direction by hansbekhart (Lan Wangji/Xiao Xingchen/Song Lan, E, 5k)

He’d thought, in Yueyang, that they’d seen something in each other, something familiar. That maybe they’d recognized something in him. But it’s been many years, and many things have happened since, and he’s guessed wrongly at other people’s hearts before. Lan Wangji looks back down at the table, at his steaming, bitter tea. He’ll beg if he has to.

In “A Lot Of Edges Called Perhaps” Wangji mentions that he has had sex before and this is the in-universe story of that time and WHEW BABY!!!! AHHHHHH!!! While this fic is like, almost pure smut, I think there is a ton of value to it in terms of emotional perspective on how fucked up LWJ was after WWX’s death. Also, it’s very hot.

3. Gathered Herbs & Sweet Grasses by hansbekhart (Laz Sizhui & Lan Wangji, G, 19k)

Later, when he’s older, it’s this that A-Yuan will remember most: the stretch of silence, the two of them both dirty and shaking with fever, as he looked at Brother Rich, and Brother Rich looked back at him.

This is a fic about Lan Wangji raising Sizhui from when he rescues Sizhui from the Burial Mounds until they bring WWX back to the Cloud Recesses after he’s resurrected. It made me cry about 18 times and I consider it fully canon in relation to the show. I think this gives a lot of emotional depth to the Wangji/Sizhui family relationship that is very important in most fics, so this acts as a good base since the show doesn’t really talk about it too much.

4. Your Name, Safe In Their Mouth by astrolesbian (Lan Sizhui & Wei Wuxian, G, 10k)

“You’ve got a fever,” Wei Wuxian says soothingly. “You just keep still as well as you can. We’ll have you fixed up soon.”

Lan Sizhui recognizes his tone—this is the voice that Wei Wuxian uses on hurt people and young children, a very calm and no-nonsense voice that has none of the mischief and cheer of the way he sounds the rest of the time. Lan Sizhui looks up and meets his eyes, and they are dark, stormy gray, muddled and concerned.

“I’m all right,” he croaks.

“Hush,” Wei Wuxian says, in a low croon, like someone quieting a baby. Then he blinks, and looks away, awkward. “I mean—you shouldn’t speak. You’re tired. Rest if you need to.”

or: lan sizhui gets sick on a night hunt. wei wuxian comforts him. they both have a lot of feelings about it.

The Wei Wuxian and Sizhui bonding fic that I so desperately desperately needed to read. Since we got the emotional depth to Wangji/Sizhui in the last fic, here’s some emotional resolution for Sizhui and his other dad!!!!!!!!!! Scratched the very particular itch of “but have they REALLY talked about what it means that they’re reunited after 16 years???”

5. climbing up that coastal shelf by Sour_Idealist (Jin Ling, Jiang Cheng, & Wei Wuxian, T, 15k)

Jin Ling had begun to suspect years ago that there were parts of his family history that had been crossed out; long streaks of black where Wei Wuxian had been. The truth is more like whole books being brought up from their hiding places again.

Or: Jin Ling tries to figure out what family means, now.

OKAY!!!! Last emotional resolution before I send you on your way to explore! This is the emotional resolution for the other half of WWX’s family. Featuring just a FUCK TON of family feels and a lot of TALKING that this fucked up family needs so damn bad. *chefs kiss* muy delicioso! ALSO i think this is a good introduction to a lot of the naming conventions that are used frequently in untamed fic that took me a while to pick up on!

WHEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now that you’ve gotten some post-show catharsis in the form of a few extremely well-written fics, it’s time for a full rec! I’ve divided it up into seven categories: long fics, smutty one-shots, 3zun (lan xichen/nie mingjue/meng yao) fics, fics about the juniors, family fun fics, some miscellaneous fics, and then some yizhan RPF! I wouldn’t have put any of these fics on here if I didn’t think they were worth reading, BUT! I did mark my particular favorites with asterisks to demark the crème de la crème of the bunch. SO! LET’S DIVE IN!

EPIC TALES (LONG AND/OR IMMERSIVE)

My Age Has Never Made Me Wise by idrilka (Wangxian, E, 63k) ***

“We hear that His Excellency might be married by summer’s end,” the merchant’s wife says and Wei Wuxian freezes, his heart in his throat. “The Gusu Lan sect has been buying enough red silk and brocade that the merchants in Caiyi can’t satisfy the demand.”

He feels himself grow brittle inside, like a flick of a finger to his temple might make him shatter. His ears are ringing.

“Who’s the lucky bride?” he asks despite himself. His tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth.

Or: The story of a marriage.

I LOVE THIS FIC. YOU MUST PROMISE ME YOU’LL READ THIS FIC. The absolute best kind of slow burn and I think such an extremely accurate representation of the canon material. I’m always surprised by the authors in this fandom’s ability to write shit that is so concretely grounded in the universe. This could and should be a real companion novel. Amazing. I love it. (Also I know you said you’re not into fics that are long just to be long and I think this fic is the exact opposite of that, it’s long but for good reason and has such an insanely satisfying payoff that it’s completely worth dedicating a few hours to!)

The Year of Drought by idrilka (Wangxian, E, 24k)

Wei Ying could not be contained by the walls of the Cloud Recesses, alive again and overflowing with it, bursting like a dam in spring with the force of two lives unspent. And so he had to go. Lan Wangji understands that—he understood it when Wei Ying told him of his plans, looking at Lan Wangji above the rim of his cup with an apologetic smile, like craving freedom was something to apologize for.

Wei Ying would go, and Lan Wangji would see him off; this has always been the only way it could be.

Or: In the absence of Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji waits.

The previous fic but from Wangji’s perspective. Absolutely required reading if you read the other one. Wangji baby.......i love you.....

further than the grave by idrilka (Wangxian, E, 32k)

There is something about grief that turns Lan Wangji numb. He cannot be certain if it is not some kind of defect inside him that makes him so. But just as he grieved his mother’s passing with dry eyes and a stone in his chest, so he grieves Wei Ying: quietly, frozen inside, without tears. Beyond the Jingshi window it might be spring, but Lan Wangji’s body and mind are still held within the winter’s grasp.

As the anniversary of his leaving seclusion approaches, Lan Wangji ponders the nature of grief and healing.

One last fic from the same verse as the previous two, this talks about Wangji post-WWX’s death and then them dealing with the past post-marriage. Its just as good and immersive and amazing as the previous two parts, but this is the only untamed fic that actually made me gasp out loud and if you read this and can guess what it was we will be best friends forever. (There are two other fics in this verse that are also good but these three in particular are god-tier in my eyes.)

Vagabond by xantissa (Wangxian, E, 66k)

Wei Wuxian comes back to Cloud Recesses after a year of wandering the world, hoping to start a relationship with Lan Zhan. He doesn’t expect to come into the middle of a case of sleeping sickness mysteriously killing people, nor does he expect what follows, putting everything he holds dear on the line once again.

OOOWEE CASE FIC! CASE FIC! This is truly the twisty turny intense and INTERESTING type of fic from this fandom that blows my mind. This could fully be a stand alone novel its that good and there’s that much to it. Another one that isn’t long just to be long, it has so much PLOT!!!!! REAL GOOD SHIT!

Seldom All They Seem by Fahye (Wangxian, E, 25k)

or, one hundred and thirty-three principles of the Gusu Lan, pertaining to the state of marriage

***

He bows to Wei Wuxian, sword in hand, sleeves falling properly. Wei Wuxian bows in return, and the sect leaders begin the opening courtesies, and for all of ten minutes Lan Wangji is under the impression that he is betrothed to a boy who is perfectly normal and acceptable apart from an unfortunate tendency to fidget with his clothes.

That impression does not last.

A canon-divergent fic exploring “what if Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were betrothed from when they were young like Yanli and Jin Zixuan?” It’s extremely good and very compelling and also made me cry multiple times. (The confrontation in the rain doesn’t get any easier even if they’re betrothed!)

Half Cloak & Half Dagger by Fahye (Lan Xichen/Meng Yao, E, 13k)

Jin Guangyao lifts his head and smiles. "I'm considering a problem."

"Can I be of any assistance with it?"

He drops a kiss on Lan Xichen's chest. With the nail of one finger he lightly traces the characters for irony on Lan Xichen's side. "Not this one, er-ge."

A follow-up fic set in the “Seldom All They Seem” universe but focused on xiyao. Has hands down the best written characterization of meng yao in any fic ive read so far. I continuously come back to this fic just to read the absolutely genius way this author writes the Head Bitch In Control of the cultivation world.

The Absolutely True Story of the Yiling Patriarch: A Manifesto in Many Parts by aubreyli (Wangxian, T, 20k)

Wei Wuxian’s hand jolts, spilling a drop of wine onto the tabletop. “Love?” he croaks, then clears his throat and tries again. “Lan Zh— uh, Hanguang-jun, in love?”

“Have you not heard the story?” the other young woman asks, looking pitying. “You must, it is a truly heartrending tale of star-crossed romance and mutual pining — go to any storyhouse in town, everyone has been requesting a reading of this book.”

“There’s a book?” Wei Wuxian says blankly.

In which the junior disciples (namely, Lan Jingyi, Ouyang Zizhen, and a reluctant Lan Sizhui) turn to RPF in an attempt to rehabilitate Wei Wuxian's reputation so that he and Hanguang-jun can get together and get married and live happily ever after. It's... surprisingly effective.

I kept avoiding this fic, even though it was really high up on the list of most popular fics in the fandom, bc the premise sounded pretty goofy BUT I finally bit the bullet one day and AHHHHHHHH!!!!! Very very very cute and fun, made me smile like an idiot throughout the entire thing. Heartwarming and very well written!!!

never let me go by yiqie (Wangxian, E, 69k)

Wei Wuxian has certainly hoped so ardently in his two lifetimes, for so many different things, in so many different ways, that he could have summoned the demon to his front door with his bare hands. His eyes wander to Lan Zhan, settle on the back of his head, the blue-black curtain of his hair. Oh, how he has hoped.

Another extremely good and super immersive case fic. If you ever just want to sink really deep into an untamed fic, this is a great one for it.

hunters seeking solid ground by Attila (Wangxian, E, 24k)

“Hanguang-jun,” Wei Wuxian repeats. His heart clenches. He wants—but he’d really meant to have this nightmare stuff down before they met again, so he wouldn’t find himself relying on Lan Wangji’s nearness. He’s not supposed to go back yet. But he’s so tired, and his will crumbles. “Yeah,” he says. “All right. Take me back to Gusu with you.”

You want hurt/comfort? I gotcha hurt/comfort RIGHT HERE!

shadows in the sun rise by Yuu_chi (Wangxian, E, 25k) ***

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says, voice slow and a pitch too quiet. A second later Wei Wuxian understands why. “I cannot hear.”

Or; Lan Wangji is cursed into internal isolation. Their ability to understand one another remains as unwavering as ever.

OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD. I have been thinking about this fic nonstop since I read it. It is…..fucking incredible. One of the best qualities of wangxian is that they’re so in tune with each other and able to work so cohesively with little communication and this fic is like “what if we take that and DIAL IT UP TO ELEVEN” and i was like AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

I hope that you will come and meet me by feyburner (Wangxian, M, 28k) ***

The second time Lan Zhan said Wei Ying, come back, Wei Wuxian did.

okay so this is literally getting added to the fic rec one day before i send it to you because i just finished it and WHEW BABY!!!!! YES it is just another wangxian post-canon reunion get-together fic, BUT 1. i cant get enough of that specific brand of fic and 2. ITS SO GOOD. ITS. SO. GOOD. achingly tender and incredibly soft but also funny and sweet and very in-character! i love it!

THE BONE ZONE (WANGXIAN SMUT)

Sweet Night by corteae (Wangxian, E, 10k)

It was like coming back to life again, like being restitched into existence, cell by cell, nerve by nerve. From the surface of his skin to the marrow of his bones, everything new and purposeful. Like being pulled back from oblivion into an embrace of pure light. A feeling of absolute asylum.

That’s what it felt like, to realize Lan Wangji was in love with him.

An in-show au of “what if they just admitted they’re in love and fucked during episode 43?” Soft and romantic and hot!

the crucial point by dissembler (Wangxian, E, 7k) ***

Months after parting on the mountain, Lan Wangji makes up his mind, plots his course on a map, and has faith.

I LOVE THIS FIC! Very realistic and sweet wangxian reunion fic from wangji’s perspective. Has so many good little details and is very true to their characters. Good shit. Great.

Stainless by Fahye (Wangxian, E, 6k)

"I'm starting to feel," says Lan Xichen, "that this was a counterproductive suggestion."

Wei Wuxian looks down onto the pristine, tranquil cold springs of the Cloud Recesses. Sitting in the water, their bare shoulders rising like dumplings carefully spaced in a steaming-basket, are a large number of Lan disciples.

"They seem to be doing better," he says, encouragingly. "If they--oh, no, I see what you mean."

At the near bank, someone has pressed someone else against the rocks and is kissing them frantically.

What is getting into a new pairing if not an excuse to read sex pollen in new and exciting ways!

To Recklessly Confess by la_dissonance (Wangxian, E, 8k)

Lan Wangji has a fantasy. Wei Wuxian gets several clues.

The “what if they just fucked in episode 43” au but from a different angle.

all the depths of me, real by northofallmusic (Wangxian, E, 15k)

Wei Wuxian is dealing with a curse a little worse than he'd like to let on, and Lan Zhan is a little less than willing to let it slide.

Another “what if they just fucked in the show” fic, this time set when WWX has the curse on his leg and Wangji has to carry him back to the inn.

Every Day, Learning More by phnelt (Wangxian, E, 6k)

The pink was high on Wei Wuxian’s cheeks. “I mean I haven’t been able to… that I can’t. Not without you.”

Lan Wangji stared. “In this body, the whole time you’ve had it -- you’ve never…”

Wei Wuxian kicked his heels into Lan Wangji’s back. “I just said that!”

I knew at least one of these was more book verse than show! WWX hasn’t been able to jerk off in his new body, LWJ helps him out :-)

the meaning of the ritual by newamsterdam (Wangxian, E, 8k)

“Lan Zhan… wants to bed me?”

The hand on his chest is shaking, slightly. “Mn.”

“Oh,” Wei Wuxian breaths out.

There’s something— something powerful, about that. Lan Wangji wants to bed him. Lan Wangji wants to sleep with him. Lan Wangji wants to touch him, and kiss him. The immovable, implacable Second Master of Lan, with a face and principles both carved from jade, wants him.

“Is this a fantasy of yours?” Wei Wuxian asks. “Forcing all the demonic energy out of me with your—”

Lan Wangji claps a hand over his mouth. “Silence, now.”

When the entire cultivation world turns against the Yiling Patriarch, Wei Wuxian makes a risky gamble— he'll agree to participate in an ancient ritual for cleansing the spirit, so that his character can no longer be called into question. The catch? He has no idea who his partner for the ritual will be.

This is also book-verse! As the tag says “Let Lan Wangji Fuck the Yiling Patriarch”!!!!!!!!!!!

Hurricane by gdgdbaby (Wangxian, E, 6k) ***

"Haven't you heard?" Nie Huaisang replied, clicking his tongue, though he was clearly pleased that he could be the one to break the news. He leaned in to announce with a dramatic flourish: "Lan Wangji just took emergency family leave this past weekend."

WANGXIAN AS SPIRK STAR TREK PON FAR AU!!!!!!!!!!!!! WEEWOO WEEWOO WEEWOO!!!!!!!! This was actually recced to ME by CHI and I have not stopped thinking about this fic for a full month. It’s like author gdgdbaby sat down one day and was like “Tumblr user Liv Scottspack deserves everything she wants in this life.” and then wrote this fic. Thank you author gdgdbaby, I love you.

WORLD’S WORST THROUPLE (3ZUN)

The body is a blade by rheawrites (3zun, E, 2k) ***

In which Lan Xichen is taken by surprise, Nie Mingjue takes what he can get, and Meng Yao gets what he wants.

This was the first 3zun fic I ever read and whew baby, got it in one! It’s actually a slight AU but it gets their characterization so right and is a very fun read. One of those fics I go back to frequently because it does so much with so few words.

shang tiantang by fuckwarlock (3zun, E, 4k)

They wanted so much, and with the way A-Yao gasps at the saber-calloused hand unfastening his belts, he does, too. The night air twirls with the scents of osmanthus and cinnamon and melon. Lan Xichen smiles, leans in, and ghosts his lips over the crook of A-Yao’s neck. What kind of brother would he be if he didn’t give A-Yao what he wanted? “I think it’s your turn to ascend, A-Yao.”

The Venerated Triad celebrates the Mid-Autumn Festival the best way they know how.

Truly the only way the venerated triad works is if meng yao gets Destroyed :-)

Favour and Fate by soulgusttheguardian (3zun, E, 8k)

There have been times in Meng Yao’s life when he couldn’t help but wonder how he came to be in his current situation. Found himself reflecting on the choices leading up to whatever misfortune had befallen him that day, and pondering why fate hated him so.

Granted, there had also been times when he couldn't help but wonder just what he had done to earn the favour necessary to be rewarded with certain things...

The current situation he found himself to be in, however, was definitely the latter.

More of the same! Truly I personally can never get enough of the 3zun dynamic in smut fics its just too goddamn motherfucking GOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!

the stars do not take sides by everyearning (3zun, E, 4k)

Mingjue isn’t sure he’s ever seen Xichen do anything other than treat the boy like a porcelain doll and it’s laughable to him, to think of Meng Yao as something breakable, instead of the sharp, deadly object he is.

Okay one last “Destroy Meng Yao” 3zun fic! Enjoy!

never as alive as we are right now by ThirtySixSaveFiles (3zun, E, 12k)

Three perspectives on three sworn brothers, at three different times in their relationship.

(Or, three times 3zun got it on and some of the feelings they had along the way.)

Wait actually I want to end the 3zun fics on this one because it has true Emotional Resolution at the end and I think they deserve a little healing.

BABY BOYS. BABIES. (THE JUNIORS)

A Civil Combpaign by Ariaste (Jin Ling/Lan Sizhui, T, 20k) ***

“And,” said one of the pompous ministers, “there’s the matter of a marriage to consider as well!”

Jin Ling, who at the beginning of that sentence had expected to slam into the very last wall of his patience and lose his temper entirely, paused. “A what?”

Thing was… it wasn’t such a bad idea.

A MUST-FUCKING-READ!!! Jin Ling gets it in his head that as sect leader he should get married and sets his sights on Lan Sizhui. I cannot stress enough how FUCKING CUTE this fic is!!! Sizhui being the best boy! Jin Ling having more uncles than he knows what to do with! Jiang Cheng being the worst at relationship advice! It’s so fucking good it love it so much.

Anyway, Here’s Wuji by kakikaeru (Lan Jingyi/Lan Sizhui, T, 18k)

The melody gets a little clearer when he breaks out of the trees, and Jingyi changes course with certainty, barreling down the back hill and through the Cloud Recesses, dodging scandalized disciples left and right. He throws open the doors to the Receiving Hall without announcement and bows nearly double, eyes on the floor instead of on the shocked faces of the Mei delegation and the impenetrable gaze of the Chief Cultivator.

"Forgive this disciple," Jingyi shouts, because he's going to get punished for rule breaking regardless. "From the back hill, Hanguang-jun, there is a song in the wind!"

Lan Jingyi comes of age.

A Jingyi-central fic about Jingyi growing up and falling in love and being a hero and being the second best boy of my heart right after Sizhui. Not only is this fic sweet and romantic but it’s another one that explores a lot of interesting things within canon and all of the supporting characters are written very well and are just as interesting as second best boy Jingyi.

Ok, JiuJiu by kakikaeru (Jin Ling/Ouyang Zizhen, T, 16k)

Uncle's jaw works in the way that suggests he's about to say something irredeemable. Jin Ling, in a move of diplomacy he hopes the Chief Cultivator appreciates, distracts him with spicy food and his favourite subject: the incompetence of his own officials.

"I hear the lakes in the south east are having drainage problems?" he asks nonchalantly, sticking three big slices of braised pork belly into his Uncle's bowl.

Jin Ling just wants to get through the Discussion Conference with his Sect, his dignity, and his heart intact.

A follow up fic to “Anyways, Here’s Wuji.” I LOVE the Jin Ling/Ouyang Zizhen dynamic of Jin Ling having been raised by Jiang “I keep all my emotions right here and then one day I’ll die” Cheng AND being hopelessly charmed and smitten with Ouyang “President of the I Love Love Romance Novel Book Club” Zizhen! I LOVE IT! EXTREMELY CUTE!

Lan Sizhui's Guide to Courtship by Kimblydot (Lan Sizhui/Lan Jingyi, T, 23k)

In which Jingyi is a little oblivious, Sizhui is patient (and should have said something in the beginning), and everyone else is resigned to watching them dance around each other for far longer than necessary.

(Or: five things Sizhui tries to do in his courtship, and the one time Jingyi realizes there was one happening in the first place.)

I’ll stop describing fics about the juniors as being “cute” when they stop being SO FUCKING CUUUUUUUUUUTTTTTTTEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!

His Merit All My Fear by violettressed (Lan Sizhui/Lan Jingyi, G, 16k)

It’s too late for any of Hanguang-Jun’s rabbits to be awake -- one of the sundown chores for young disciples is to herd them back into their hutch -- but the rabbit field is as good a spot as any for quality sulking, so Lan Jingyi makes his way there.

Someone has beat him to it.

Lan Jingyi stares at Hanguang-Jun. Hanguang-Jun stares passively back.

When Lan Sizhui is swept away with the Ghost General, off on a new adventure, Lan Jingyi is the one who returns to Cloud Recesses alone.

Not only another extremely cute Sizhui/Jingyi fic BUT one that includes a Wangji/Jingyi friendship??? Incroyable! *chefs kiss*

spirit running wild by idrilka (Lan Sizhui/Lan Jingyi, E, 17k)

He doesn’t know, exactly, when the friendship he shared with Sizhui over the years has changed into something that’s made Jingyi finally understand why Hanguang-Jun always wears that expression whenever he looks at Senior Wei. There hasn’t been one single moment that he can point to and say, yes, this is where it started, because the thing about falling in love with your best friend is that it happens gradually, until it’s impossible to tell which step has been the deciding one.

Jingyi goes to Baling with a crush.

Written by the same genius that wrote the first three fics I made you read so you know it’s good. Its truly the childhood best friends to lovers of it all! Sizhui is adorable and Jingyi is a mess! *muah!*

FAMILY FUN TIME (NO ROMANCE, JUST FEELS)

Grow by cafecliche (Lan Sizhui & Wei Wuxian, T, 14k)

“Okay,” Jingyi says, as Sizhui puzzles this out aloud. “Okay! So the demon has been turning its victims into children.”

“I think so,” Sizhui says.

“To make them easier prey,” Jingyi says.

“Yes,” Sizhui says.

“So—” Jingyi’s voice cracks here, “this kid is Senior Wei.”

Wei Wuxian, still tangled in his own massive robes, blinks politely at them.

(Or: Wei Wuxian is cursed on a night-hunt, and the junior quartet rapidly finds themselves in over their heads.)

What I expected to be a goofy, silly fic turned out to be extremely emotional and made me FULLY CRY! It’s a very moving fic about Sizhui coming to understand himself and Wei Wuxian a lot better AND features all of the juniors arguing over who’s turn it is to hold 6 year old Wei Wuxian. A true win/win of a fic.

To The Act of Making Noise by words-writ-in-starlight (Lan Sizhui & Lan Wangji, G, 19k)

His father in white plays the song late into the night, and when A-Yuan wakes up confused and afraid, the guqin lulls him back to sleep.

Lan Sizhui hears his father play the same song every night for his whole life, and never, ever get an answer.

Another very moving and heartwarming fic about Lan Wangji raising Sizhui and Sizhui figuring out Wangji’s past and then eventually reconnecting with Wei Wuxian. It’s cute and soft and Sizhui is my best boy!

History (Proud To Call Your Own) by words-writ-in-starlight (Wen Ning, G, 5k)

“A-Yuan? Um—Lan-gongzi,” Wen Ning corrects, trying to set a good example. The children are young, seven and eight, exactly a dozen of them lined up in two crisp lines of tiny blue and white robes. Wen Ning can feel them staring at him, even though most of them have already mastered that Lan trick of neutrality. The smallest, a little girl with liquid dark eyes, is clinging to her nearest shijie’s sleeve and half-hiding. “Can I—what can I do for you?”

Wen Ning gets himself recruited for services, while he and Sizhui are visiting Cloud Recesses. Wei Wuxian gets a fan club.

Set in the same universe as “To The Act of Making Noise,” a very cute fic about Wen Ning finding his place in the post-canon world and being proud of Sizhui and being the world’s best substitute teacher. As the official Wen Ning Fan Club President, I had to include this.

the stone-filled sea by yukla (Lan Sizhui & Wei Wuxian, T, 9k) ***

He forgets how quickly Wei-qianbei changes faces, sometimes. Like pulling a theater mask over a bruise—color over color, a diversion with the swipe of his hand.

Lan Sizhui navigates a world that hates his father, one endless wave at a time.

Oh man oh man. I will never get enough of the fics where Sizhui (and the rest of the juniors) get ANGRY on Wei Wuxian’s behalf!! That’s their dad and their teacher and their friend and they will DEFEND HIM!!! YEAH BAYBEEEEEEEEEE!!!

PICK & MIX (MISCELLANEOUS)

This Side of Paradise by greenfionn (Wei Wuxian/Wen Qing, E, 3k)

Wei Wuxian does some very quick math in his head that goes something like this: He is pretty sure he’s in love with Lan Zhan - Lan Zhan is not here and likely never will be here - Wen Qing is here, not to mention very hot and let us not forget, actually interested in sex with him - there’s a solid chance he goes genuinely crazy or dies, or both, in the next few months and really, who wants to die a virgin?

Listen.......the fic premise is “Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing, noted bisexuals, figure life sucks enough at the Burial Mounds, they might as well have any fun they can before they die” and........I Am Looking Directly At It. It features Wen Qing bossing Wei Wuxian around and Wei Wuxian’s canon he-wants-to-be-pregnant kink. It’s........I liked it.

palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss by iodhadh (Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen, M, 15k) ***

The realization strikes Song Lan like a bolt of lightning: Xiao Xingchen laughs, and he wants with a sudden, stunning desperation to kiss the mirth from his beautiful mouth. How, precisely, he is meant to manage that—that, he has no idea at all.

Or: introspective meditations on touch, trust, and the problem of desire.

I Am Baby and for some reason cannot handle how sad the entire Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen storyline ended up so I rarely read songchen fics, and when I do they’re always soft pre-canon fics like this one. Luckily there are some very beautiful and moving pre-canon songchen fics!!! I love you fandom!!

purpose and ritual by iodhadh (Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen, E, 8k)

Song Zichen has beautiful hands. He's a powerful swordsman, strong and skilled, unfairly impressive and unreasonably handsome. He is devoted and self-disciplined and he takes direction like a dream. And he doesn't touch people—no one at all, if he can help it, except for Xiao Xingchen.

The poets might call him a saint, but Xiao Xingchen is so very, very human.

More of the same :-)

born to sweet delight by la_dissonance (Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen, E, 10k)

Xiao Xingchen lightly jumps into the center of the pool, the water a shock that cools his sticky, heated skin, and does nothing for the heat building inside him. When he surfaces, pushing the hair out of his face, he finds Song Lan's gaze and meets it. Between them, everything goes both ways. What Song Lan will offer, Xiao Xingchen will freely give too.

Or, Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan meet, pledge their lives to each other, and then fall in love.

This is about the angstiest I will go for songchen and its still absolutely Baby Soft lmfao!!!!!!

Pin it down by rheawrites (Jiang Yanli/Jin Zixuan, Jin Zixuan/Nie Mingjue, E, 2k)

“Yanli, I did not lie on our wedding night. You are the only woman I have gone to bed with. But… there was a man.”

“Oh?” Yanli blinks up at him. She does not appear horrified, or betrayed, which is surely a good sign.

Jin Zixuan swallows. “It was Sect Leader Nie,” he says quickly, as though that will make it easier.

“…Oh,” says Yanli, and her eyes are dark.

Jin Zixuan tells his wife a war story. Or, two thousand words of Jin Zixuan getting railed.

Have you ever looked at Jin Zixuan and been like “I bet that mf likes getting PEGGED!!!!!!!!” Well here’s the fic for you.

*YIBO VOICE* DIDI LOVES YOU! (YIZHAN RPF)

never really over by gdgdbaby (Yizhan, E, 10k)

The thing is: it would be good to see Xiao Zhan again — if Yibo could just trust himself to be normal.

Author gdgdbaby is the yizhan master, so here are five of my personal favorites of their fics, starting with this post-filming reunion fic that was the first yizhan fic I ever read and HIT real good after having just finished the show myself.

pedagogy by gdgdbaby (Yizhan, E, 17k) ***

Yibo opens his mouth and says, "I want to learn," barreling past the rapid rise of Xiao Zhan's eyebrows. "To last longer. Will you teach me?"

Quick-fire Yibo comes too easily and Xiao Zhan helps train him to last longer :-)

you’re the reason that i just can’t concentrate by gdgdbaby (Yizhan, E, 10k)

Xiao Zhan hears about it from Yu Bin, which probably should've been the first warning sign.

Yibo was only 20 when they filmed the untamed, which lends itself perfectly to fics like this.

a truth so loud you can’t ignore by gdgdbaby (Yizhan, E, 5k)

It's their last day of filming in Hengdian when the secret comes out.

If yibo has to be a fictional virgin than SO DOES XIAO ZHAN!

if you would only let you by gdgdbaby (Yizhan, E, 32k) ***

"Well?" Yibo demands. Past the severe frown tugging at the corners of his mouth, a flicker of the old him slips through, the persistent boy who shoved his way into Xiao Zhan's space without a second thought and made a home for himself there. "Are you coming or not?"

Xiao Zhan's heart twists. He forcibly settles it back in his chest. He's only told Yibo no once in his entire life, and it was already the hardest thing he's ever had to do. "Okay," Xiao Zhan murmurs, quiet but decisive, and thumbs his phone off. "Let's go."

Like I said, all gdgdbaby fics are incredibly good, super well written, and very hot, but this one does stand out from the bunch for being a Full Epic Romance! This is one of Chi’s favorite fics so that should speak to it’s quality!

baby, who’s counting by nobirdstofly (Yizhan, E, 12k)

Xiao Zhan gasps, trying to rein in another peal of giggles. “What do I owe you anyway?”

Yibo shrugs one shoulder, and his smirk deepens. “Haven’t decided.”

Xiao Zhan’s still staring at him, laughter gone in his dry throat, when he hears someone yell for a reset. Yibo’s eyes are so, so dark, and he hasn’t stopped watching Xiao Zhan this whole time. Xiao Zhan swallows, nods, and pushes every dirty thought out of his head.

(Or: Yibo bets Xiao Zhan he'll break first during a take, Xiao Zhan loses, and it's all downhill from there.)

Ah sex bets, who doesn’t love sex bets!

Mystery Dance by mrsronweasley (Yizhan, E, 16k)

"That? That's your confession?" Yibo's toppled onto Xiao Zhan's side and is clutching his shoulder, trying not to fall over. "That's pathetic!"

"Oh, what, you can do better?" Zhuocheng is pretty flushed and there's a challenge in his voice that Yibo just can't walk away from.

"Hell yeah, I can. Hit me, Yu Bin." Yu Bin cheers and refills Yibo's shot glass. "All right!" Yibo downs the shot, gags only slightly, and says, "Everyone! I'm a fucking virgin!"

WHAT’S better than a Yibo virgin fic? A SECOND YIBO VIRGIN FIC!

This author also writes extremely good yizhan threesomes so here’s three of them!

Some Nights by mrsronweasley (Yizhan/Xuan Lu (Jiang Yanli), E, 2k)

Xuan Lu opened her legs to him and Xiao Zhan wasted no time diving in. He pressed his mouth against her pussy, licking her out steadily as her thighs trembled around him. She was nestled between Yibo's legs and if Xiao Zhan looked up, not only could he see the planes of her body, her small breasts going up and down with her breathing, ribs expanding, her tipped back head and open mouth, but Yibo, gaze boring into Xiao Zhan's as he ate Xuan Lu out.

The entire cast is hot and there is no reason they shouldn’t ALL fuck! Not one reason!!!!!!

gege loves you by mrsronweasley (Yizhan/Wang Zhuocheng (Jiang Cheng)), E, 7k)

"We are very sorry," Xiao Zhan murmured as he unbuttoned Zhuocheng's jeans while Yibo kissed his ear, "for how we've been acting."

"Is this how you apologize to everyone," Zhuocheng panted, hands already going for his zipper to help Xiao Zhan along, "or am I special?"

WHEW LORD!!!!!!!!! WHEW!!!!!!!

Talking in the Dark by mrsronweasley (Yizhan (Side Xiao Zhan/M/F), E, 14k)

Xiao Zhan has a light-hearted romp of a threeway with some friends, then makes the mistake of telling Yibo. It goes down.

A non-yizhan threesome BUT features jealous!yibo which is a ton of fun.

Finally, a couple AUs!

With Joy and Purpose by feenwitch (Yizhan, E, 30k) ***

Yibo has been alone for approximately five Earth years when Xiao Zhan crash lands on his planet.

YIZHAN ANDROID AU!!!!!!!! This is a very star trek-esque universe which is fun, but the fic itself is also CRAZY interesting and moving and beautiful!!!!!!!!! It’s A LOT! This was a rec from Nina, so thank you Nina!

Bound With a Same-Heart Knot by mrsronweasley (Yizhan, E, 59k)

London, 1892. Xiao Zhan, a promising young attache at the Chinese embassy is tasked with showing the new ambassador's son Wang Yibo around London. The inevitable happens.

Victorian AU! I actually think you already read this, but included for posterity.

AND SCENE! This is the result of two months of daily fic reading, having 50 tabs of fic open at any given time, reading truly anything and everything, and Loving The Untamed. I’m SO EXCITED you’re diving into fic for this show and I can’t wait to talk to you about all of them and to have someone to scream with! WOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

#the untamed #fic #the untamed fic rec #holy gosh diddly darn moly #this is long as hell and has approximately 950k words of fic in it #my magnum opus!!!!#what's even more wild is that this literally doesnt even scratch the surface #i am constantly reading more #from the time i started putting this rec together until now #i added two new fics that i read and thought were amazing #there is no dearth of good shit to read in this fandom #ANYWAYS congrats on finishing (tomorrow)!#i cant wait to talk fic!#i hope you enjoy this list!#sorry it is genuinely absurdly long!

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theheartsmistakes · 4 years ago

Text

The Last Night Part XXI

A/N at the End:

Parts I-XIX:

Here is Part I

Here is Part II

Here is Part III

Here is Part IV

Here is Part V

Here is Part VI

Here is Part VII

Here is Part VIII

Here is Part IX

Here is Part X

Here is Part XI

Here is Part XII

Part XIII

Part XIV

Part XV

Part XVI

Part XVII

Part XVIII

Part XIX

Part XX

.XXI.

The cluster of ewes kept a respectful distance on their side of the fence, heads lifted now and then to watch the pair walking along the empty country road. Cordelia avoided a rather large puddle, filled over with dark murky water, and resumed her step with James on the other side. They were losing the light, and the setting sun had tinged the clouds a golden rose that glowed against the cold flat blue of the dusk.

James, tucked his hands into his pockets and resumed his guided tour. “I’m terribly sorry about having to abandon the carriage. It’s never clear how the wheels are going to weather the roads after a storm.”

“Another added to perk to Algernon,” said Cordelia.

“I’ll pretend you never said that and that you didn’t just use its given name. Matthew needs no further encouragement” said James and nudged her with his shoulder. “You know, Magnus owns this whole estate?”

“Really?” Cordelia looked across the narrow, feudal fields of rich red earth and verdant pasture sloping gently down from either side to form the shallow valley of the village, thinking how furious her father would have been to know that a Downworlder owned all of this. He hated the concept of massive estates. “That’s quite impressive.”

“He inherited it apparently. He owns everything— the pastures, the village, everything. Has done for nearly two centuries. Although he’s sold a lot of it in the past century or given it away, but he insists that the architecture be kept the same. That’s why some of the houses look sprung up from the colonies. Neo-Natalian, they call it, that flat-topped design. And that small cottage with the blue smoke coming out of the shoot”— he pointed down into the valley— “that’s his. Not too far to go. Are you alright?”

Cordelia tucked her hands into her coat pockets. “A little walking never bothered me. I would wonder around all over Tehran when I was a child. Alastair would grovel while I dragged him through the streets from one street merchant to the next.”

Squinting a little, Cordelia studied the westernmost end of the road, mentally comparing the earthy tones of England to the desert warmth of her homeland.

“I imagine it was beautiful,” said James.

“It was,” she said with a nod. “Though a different kind of beautiful than I imagine you’re accustomed to. The beauty lies inside of the city, with the people, the culture. It’s like every sense you have comes to life and you come to life. The air is so filled with spices and burning incense that you can taste it in your mouth. The language being spoken by neighbors sounded more like water trickling in a brook then the clumsy verbiage of English. Some streets were covered in rugs being woven and silks being beaded. It is its own piece of the world and could never be replicated.”

“You miss it.”

It wasn’t a question, but she answered as if it were. “Almost everyday.”

“Almost?”

Cordelia carefully avoided another puddle. “As I’ve told you before,” she started as they merged back together. “I grew up very much alone. I didn’t speak the language well— English being my first language, and the children often poked fun at my clothes or the way that I spoke. I had Alastair, but well, we both know how he can be.”

They began the slow descent now into the valley, not more than ten yards distant from the small cottage with the blue smoke chimney. If she was going to have this conversation with James, then she needed to start it now. She cleared her throat. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about what happened the other night. You have to understand that, there was once a time when Alastair and I— we were all each had in the world. And in that time, he protected me from a lot more than I realized and I don’t think he ever learned how to stop.”

“You don’t need to apologize for him, Cordelia,” said James. “As a brother myself, I understand perfectly well what he was doing and if a man had treated my sister the way that I treated you—even unknowingly— I would have flattened him to the gravel before he had a chance to speak. At least Alastair gave me a chance to explain myself before threatening to brazen me.”

Cordelia smiled. “He’ll probably never like you.”

James laughed and Cordelia’s heart responded to the sound. They’d come to the edge of the cottage’s property now, and the cottage seemed to be waiting for them.

“Then it’s a fine thing that it’s not his approval I seek,” said James, an eyebrow arched. “But I know he means a great deal to you.”

“He does,” she answered quietly.

She felt small in the shadow of the old cottage. The stone walls rose covered in a thin veil of moss and bright colored mushrooms. It was a narrow structure, hard and angular, save for the turret-like structure at one corner that probably sheltered a stairwell inside.

Reaching out, Cordelia ran her hand caressingly over the cold stones as they walked past. “Should we knock?” She asked, unsure how to approach the home of a high warlock— much less one with Magnus Bane’s social standing in the Shadowhunter community.

“Yes, I think so. He left specific instructions not to step on his azaleas,” said James, giving a flower bed full of the illusive purple flowers a wide berth.

He walked ahead of her towards the door tucked into the shadows of the wide porch. Cordelia’s trailing fingers snagged on something sharp, and she pulled her hand back, breaking contact with the stone wall.

“Curious,” said Cordelia, examining her finger tip where a small bead of blood now bloomed. “How does he get azaleas to grow this time of year.”

“I plant the bulbs in early winter,” said a voice from the porch, followed by a curl of smoke that drifted away into the air in the shape of a small white rabbit. “They freeze in the earth, then thaw in the summer, just in time for the rains to make everything moist. They’ll bloom until January.”

Magnus Bane emerged, resting his patched elbows on the porch banister. His eyes flickered, cat-like between the two shadow hunters on his lawn, and as a feline grin changed his face. “Come in,” he said, “it’s getting cold. And these hills are notorious gossips.”

Cordelia stepped through the front door, through the white-painted foray with the checkerboard floor. It smelled sharply of cut wood and coal dust and damp quarry tile.

“When I sent the letter, I expected to be invited back to your flat in London,” said James as he started unbuttoning his coat. “I hadn’t expected to be invited to the cottage. I haven’t been here since New Years of 99’ when you hosted that party.”

Magnus chuckled. “Yes, I faintly remember you and Matthew getting merry on spiced rum. One of you fell asleep in the antlers of my stag wall ornament.”

James blushed. “I have no recollection of that.”

“You wouldn’t, would you?” said Magnus. “It was very good spiced rum.”

James cleared his throat and quickly went to help Cordelia with her coat.

“Speaking of drinks, can I offer either of you something?” asked Magnus, lifting his hands towards the arched passageway into the kitchen. “I have fresh coffee, tea, biscuits, or a plate of chutney if you’re feeling peckish.”

Cordelia shrugged off her coat, and handed it off to James to hang beside his own. “I’ll take tea, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Magnus’s eyes flickered. “It’s not too much trouble at all.” Faint blue smoke curled from his fingertips as he snapped them. Cordelia heard the shuffling of glassware in the kitchen, but could not see who might be inside. “Follow me, we can sit in the front room with the fire so you can warm yourself.”

They followed the warlock through the arched walkway into the adjacent room. The large fireplace stacked with a glowing wood pile that crackled but didn’t seem to burn stood center against the forest green papered wall. A mural of Magnus sitting on a sofa with his ankles crossed and a gray cat in his lap hung over the gold painted mantle lined with fresh garland. Cordelia felt the texture of the floor change under her boots and looked down to notice the grand Persian rug underneath her feet. The style and design must have been over a hundred years old. She wanted to place her hands on it, to smell it, and see if there was anything left of its original home left on it, but resisted the strange urge by taking her seat in one of the wingback chairs that faced the fire.

James took his seat in the couple of her chair.

Magnus chose to stand beside the fireplace. “Your choice in correspondence has left me quite intrigued. It’s not often that one of your kind asks my permission before showing up at my doorstep. You either don’t want anyone to know you’re here or one of you has been raised with manners.”

“When have I ever just shown up at your doorstep?” asked James.

“Who said I was referring to you?” said Magnus, his eyes flickered to James’s wrist. “Aw, broken free from the manacle, I see. How did you manage it? Is that what this is about then?”

James gripped his wrist with his other hand. He glanced to Cordelia, probably weighing her reaction, and then back to Magnus. “We’re not here for me. It’s Cordelia.”

Magnus crossed his arms over his chest. “Aw, the young miss Carstairs. You look much better since I last saw you. You seem to have recovered nicely since your rendezvous with the prince of hell.”

“I wouldn’t call it a rendezvous as much as an unsuccessful kidnapping,” said Cordelia and allowed the comfort of Cortana strapped to her back to fight off the memory of being held against her will. Perhaps it was best that she didn’t remember any of it. What if he’d done something unspeakable to her.

“Tell me what ails you and I will see if I can help,” said Magnus.

“When I woke from my coma,” said Cordelia, taking a deep breath, “its seems that I have forgotten everything after the moment I got into the carriage with my brother to go to Alicante. I don’t remember being attacked, I don’t remember Belial, and I don’t remember how I got back except for what Lucie and James have told me. We were hoping that you would be able to gain access to my memories to hopefully learn what we can about Belial and his plan.”

“Curious.” Magnus tipped his head and thought for a moment, seeking a reply. “But you did hit your head rather hard in the attack, did you not? It could just be that your brain became scrambled just a bit and you’ve only temporarily forgotten.”

Cordelia and James glanced at each other. “That might be so,” said James, “but if Belial disclosed any information about his plan on how to capture me as his host to Cordelia and erased her memories as she was escaping, then perhaps her memories are key to his defeat.”

“Perhaps.” He looked between the two of them. “Unfortunately for you, your very concerned parents have requested that if you were to come to me, I not assist you.”

Cordelia and James both dropped their shoulders in dejection.

“Fortunately for them,” started Magnus, “in assisting you, I am actually assisting them, which they also asked me to do.” He examined some dust on the mantle. “This is a tough decision.”

A silver tray topped with a simple white teapot and three cups drifted into the room and gently bumped into Magnus’s shoulder. Without looking, he waved it away. “None for me, thank you.”

Cordelia watched as the tray floated over to the elegant wooden table and sank down with a delicate rattle.

“Cream or sugar?” Magnus asked.

“Just cream,” requested Cordelia.

The pot and the milk jar lifted and poured simultaneously into an awaiting tea cup. Cordelia’s mouth gaped as she watched.

“You never fail to dazzle,” said James.

“I invented the word, boy,” grinned Magnus as the tea and cup soared to Cordelia’s awaiting hands. “And don’t you forget it. But, now, back to our predicament. No one else has tried to access these lost memories?”

Cordelia swallowed a mouthful of hot earl grey tea. “The Silent Brothers refused as my mind was still healing from the trauma. They fear it might cause irreversible damage.”

Magnus frowned. “They’re right. Playing with magic in someone’s mind is incredibly dangerous. Especially when it comes to memories. Just the slightest wrong touch and you could forget entirely who you are.”

The teacup rattled on the saucer in Cordelia’s hand. James reached over and placed a hand on her knee.

“You needn’t go through with it, Cordelia,” he said gently. “We’ll wait for the memories to return.”

“What if they don’t?” She reached forward to set her tea back on the table lest she spill it all over Magnus’s gorgeous rug or plush velvet arm chair. “Can you do it? Do you think you can access them without—“

Magnus studied his polished fingernails. “I can try, but despite what some might believe, there are no guarantees when it comes to magic.”

Cordelia glanced over at James beside her. He was already studying her face; his expression was gentle and considering. They’d come all this way and they’d gone through all of the trouble to lie to everyone and she had promised to help in any way that she could to defeat Belial. Still, she knew that if she decided she didn’t want to go through with it, he’d leave this cottage with her and they’d find another way.

But there was always a trust in everyone’s voices when they talked about the infamous Magnus Bane. She’d heard stories of his camaraderie and bravery with the Shadowhunter community for years. The other thing that could possibly match his style and class would be his power.

“Let’s try,” she said with as much confidence as she could bear to muster.

“Cordelia,” James started. “Are you absolutely certain?”

“No,” said Cordelia, “but you trust him, do you not?”

“With my life,” said James.

Magnus grinned down at his suede boots, pretending not to be listening, or at least not to have any interest in the exchange.

“Then I trust him too. Besides,” she said as she leaned forward to pick up her teacup. “His magic makes a delicious cup of tea and if that’s any indication of his abilities, then I feel completely safe.”

Magnus snapped his fingers and the tray of tea disappeared from the table. He pointed to James next. “James, you lay that blanket over the table. Cordelia, lay on top.”

They did as they were instructed. James removed the tightly knit afghan from the back of the chair and over the coffee table with it. Cordelia sat and swung her legs over until she could recline back in a position that made her feel entirely too vulnerable.

Magnus rolled up his sleeves to his elbows and rubbed his hands together creating sparks between his palms. He came around the table and kneeled down behind Cordelia’s head.

James knelt beside her and offered her his hand. “Perhaps you’d rather wait in the library? This could take some time and may not be pleasant.”

James brushed a strand of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. “I don’t have to go anywhere if you’d prefer me here.”

“Actually, it might be better if you left the room,” said Magnus. “It will give Cordelia a chance to speak more freely and I don’t need the concerned significant other hovering over my shoulder while I am trying to work in the delicate details of the human consciousness.”

Cordelia took his hand and squeezed it. “He’s right.”

James leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I won’t be far.”

She nodded and reluctantly let his hand go as he stood.

Once James left the room, Cordelia felt the cool press of Magnus’s fingertips against her temple. “When you’re comfortable, close your eyes for me, Cordelia.”

After several deep breaths, Cordelia let her eyes close and focused her attention on the gentle rush of Magnus’s breath through his nose and the crackling of the fire wood.

“What’s the first thing that you remember from that night?”

Cordelia let the memories rush past her strangely warped and out of order. The first thing that came to mind was standing before James. “I said goodbye to James. I’d broken our engagement and was leaving London for Alicante with my brother.”

The warmth of the tears on her cheeks, the weight in her chest, the ache in her throat, she recalled all of it as if it were happening again. “I remember leaving James. I climbed into the carriage with Alastair. We started arguing. I told him of my plans to join the Iron Sisters when we returned to Alicante. He was so angry with me. He forbade me from doing it. He nearly turned the carriage around when we felt a jolt, as if we lost a wheel, and the carriage stopped.”

The picture in her mind started to become disfigured. Alastair stood in the darkness, a spear in his hands as he yelled something out to her.

“What was that?” Cordelia asked, pushing herself up to her knees.

“I’m not sure.” Alastair reached for the door. “Stay here. I’ll see what’s going on.”

“I’m coming with you.”

The memory started rippling apart like a stone thrown into still waters.

“Hold onto it, Cordelia,” said Magnus. “There’s a block on your memories, but fight through it.”

“Cyril!”

“Run, Miss Carstairs, run.”

The memory shuddered again.

Alastair stood in front of her with a spear in his right hand, held out in front of them ready to empale whatever or whomever came near. At some point, he had abandoned his waist coat and tie. His eyes danced sharply around them. “Draw Cortana, I believe we’re under—“

Then, there was blood everywhere, more blood than she thought she’d ever seen in her life. Head wounds bleed the worst, she told herself. It was fine. He would be fine.

“Cordelia.” More blood seeped from between Alastair’s lips, staining his teeth. “You— It wants—“

A sharp pain lanced through her ribcage, stealing her breath.

“It’s not real, Cordelia,” said Magnus. “It’s just a memory. Keep going.”

It was dark, that much Cordelia could tell, and it was cold. So cold the tips of her fingers ached. She was flat on her stomach, laying on something hard- stone possibly— that chilled her to her core. A dull, but intensifying pain, ached on the right side of her ribcage with every breath that she took. It was also the only part of her that felt inflamed with heat. Her lungs felt too full, the air scratched against the back of her throat as though she’d inhaled a mouth full of soot. She tried to cough, but nearly cried out from the pain in her ribcage.

Laughter echoed around her as she walked forward through the hazy dream. A figure stood in the distance. He was dressed much the same as the last time she’d seen him, in an all white tailored suit complete with black buttons that glistened like eyes- perhaps they were eyes. His pale gray hair swept across his face; in much the same way as James’s, but she would not allow herself to think about that.

Belial.

“What is it that you want from me?” asked Cordelia, the words shook on her lips.

Belial chucked, it echoed around them. “Nothing from you.”

“James.”

No. No that wasn’t right.

The memory focused on her Lucie, standing before her grandfather in full fighting gear.

Belial’s smile glowed in her memory.

Cordelia’s eyes flew open and she blinked up at Magnus and James starting down above her.

“Lucie,” said Cordelia as fresh tears spilled from her eyes. “He wants Lucie.”

A/N: Thanks for waiting on the updates. I hope you guys enjoy this update. Magnus has always (and will always) be one of my favorite characters. I always have so much fun writing him. I hope I did him justice. Sorry if the ending feels a bit rushed (it was), but it was a lot of things we already know and Cordelia is just relearning. Leave me a comment, a like, and please reblog if you’re so inclined. Also, follow along for the next update coming on December 6. Stay safe and stay healthy!

#the last night fanfiction #the shadowhunter chronicles #cassandra clare #chain of gold #jordelia fanfiction #james x cordelia #james herondale #Cordelia Carstairs

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honestlyimstilllivinginthe90s · 4 years ago

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Golden |Drew Soulmate AU| Two|

A/n lowkey ngl im like really proud of this chapter. i really hope y’all like it. also idk if i wanna write a smutty chapter for the next part. i’d love to hear your opinion on if i should or not because ive never written smut before so itd probably be trash so...... whatcha think?

Warning: Swearing, kinda fast paced (wish it was slow burn but i dont have the attention span for that), mentions of vomit (at the end)

Word Count: Approx 1.9 k

APRIL 22ND 2020 12:32PM

“I’m going to shit myself.” Y/n said, moving the same strand of hair out of her face.

“Well that’s a really cute dress, you better fucking not.” Naya tutted from her position leaning against her bedroom wall.

“Okay. I’ve got this, right?”

“Yes! Now go get yo man! He’s still outside waiting for you.”

Y/n smiled at her reflection and let Naya drag her out into the hall. Naya walked over to the door and looked out the peephole.

“You didn’t tell me that he was that hot.”

Y/n pushed her out of the way to look through the peephole. Drew was leaning against a street pole and damn did he look good.

“Go get him girly.”

Y/n opened the door, Drew standing up straight at the sound of the door being opened. Drew’s heart stopped. She looked gorgeous and damn red was definitely her colour.

“Wow, you look, wow, you’re gorgeous.” Drew smiled as Y/n did a little twirl in response.

Y/n giggled and linked her arm through his. They walked down the street together to a small coffee shop that Drew said sold “chocolate chip cookies so good you’ll never be able to eat another cookie again”.

“The outside of your apartment looks nice.” Drew teased as they rounded the corner together.

Y/n blushed, sputtering out an apology. Naya hated having guests in their apartment even if it was for a few minutes.

“You’re cute when you blush.” Drew smiled down at Y/n, his hair flopping down against his forehead.

“You’re cute.” Y/n stated, spinning around so she was facing him while she walked backwards in front of Drew.

Drew reached out and took Y/n’s hands in his to make sure she wouldn’t fall over. Y/n’s skin tingled as their fingers interlocked. Damn, she could get used to this.

“Am I now?” Drew chewed on his lower lip as a rosy blush grew across his cheekbones. Drew chewing on his bottom lip when he got complimented made Y/n wanna compliment him for the rest of eternity.

“I suppose.” Y/n shrugged.

Drew gently tugged Y/n’s hands in protest, laughing along with her.

"How long have you been living in LA?" Drew asked, still holding Y/n’s hand.

"About a year or so. Naya, my roommate, we went to high school together and we were best friends. She wants to sing and well her dream brought us here."

"What about you?" Drew asked, tilting his head to look at her.

"What about me?"

"You told me why Naya's here, why are you here?"

"I wanna write. Or paint. I don't really know. Naya knew what she wanted, I'm just along for the ride." She shook her head in embarrassment. "What are you doing here?"

Drew smiled. "I'm an actor. I moved here from North Carolina to find my big break." Drew chuckled.

“Have you found it yet?” Y/n looked up at him as Drew stopped outside the coffee shop. It was a small building on the corner of the street, with window boxes filled with artificial blue carnations.

“I don’t know.” Drew smiled a sad smile before reaching forward and opening the door to the coffee shop, the smell of freshly baked cookies hitting Y/n instantly. Although the place was small, the inside felt bigger than it actually was. There were an elderly couple sitting in the corner beside the door and a young woman sat in the far corner working on a laptop with a forgotten cup of coffee beside her.

“This place is beautiful.” Y/n sighed in pleasure, Drew grinning as he took her hand and pulled her over to a table in the left hand corner beside a small window. Drew pulled out Y/n’s chair for her, she laughed.

“And who said chivalry is dead?” Drew sat down across from her, trying to focus so much on how beautiful she looked when she laughed.

“It’s easy to be chivalrous when it comes to you.” Drew shrugged, looking down at the table trying to ignore the rising blush on his cheeks. He had never felt like this about anyone before, they barely knew each other but already he craved to be closer to her. He needed to know everything about her, he needed to touch every inch of her skin, he needed her like an alcoholic needed a shot of whiskey. And with every passing second it just got worse. He was addicted. And so was she.

APRIL 22ND 2020 2:56PM

They walked out of the café, giggling and talking about everything and nothing at all. All they knew was that this date couldn’t end, not yet anyway.

“Wanna go to the beach? My car is parked around the corner.” Drew asked standing in front of Y/n, basking in her presence, their fingers still interlocked.

Y/n couldn't agree fast enough. Drew’s car was parked just a few feet down the street from the coffee shop, “I might have gone in before our date to ask them to save that table for us.”

Y/n climbed into the passenger seat and Drew drove them to the beach. Y/n reached over intertwining her pinky finger in his as he drove.

She stared out the window, hypnotised by the passing trees. Drew sneaked glances at her, hypnotised by Y/n.

From the Dining Table softly played in the background of their moment. Y/n basking in the presence of her soulmate, Drew basking in the presence of a girl he wished to know. So far from each other despite their interlocked pinky fingers all because of a bond meant to bring them together.

APRIL 22ND 2020 5:57PM

“You’re so golden.” Y/n muttered at Drew as she ran her fingers through his hair. They lay beside each other on an old ratty blanket Drew found in the trunk of his car. Drew’s hands were placed firmly on her waist, rubbing small circles on her still slightly damp skin from when he chased her along the shore.

Drew stared longingly at her lips, trying to tear his gaze away. He was not one to kiss on the first date and the last thing he wanted was to scare her off.

“Am I now?” Drew teased, tugging on his bottom lip with his teeth.

Without thinking Y/n reached out and removed his lip from between his teeth. Him chewing his bottom lip did unholy things to her.

Drew swallowed as Y/n kept her thumb on his lip, carefully rubbing it before moving her hand to rest on his jaw.

Drew’s voice was hoarse, sending shivers down her spine as he said, “I really fucking want to kiss you right now.”

Y/n licked her lips, as Drew’s hand made their way to rest on her hips. “Please,” she whispered, taking in shallow breaths, “kiss me.”

Drew pulled her into him as he pressed his lips to hers, her hands instantly found their place in his hair. The kiss was slow and soft, all movements gentle and cautious despite the hunger in both of their chests.

Drew slowly pulled away, resting his forehead against Y/n’s as the both tried to collect their breaths. It was pointless as the more they tried to catch their breath, all they could smell was each other and before they knew it their lips were crashing back together.

This was needier but slow and sensual. Drew lay on his back, pulling Y/n on top of him to straddle his waist.

One of her hands was under his chin, ensuring that his lips never left hers. Drew’s hands were on the small of her back until one slowly crept up to her hair and the other under her jacket, pressing her even closer to his chest.

Drew slowly pulled away, taking Y/n’s bottom lip in between his teeth, drawing a moan from her as she devoured his lips again.

The connection between them, their soulmate connection, tugged at Y/n until they separated, Drew held her close to his chest. As he told her a story about his time in college, Y/n couldn’t ignore the fear that he’d never realise they were soulmates. Remembering the address that Naya wrote in her phone, Y/n swallowed her fear and enjoyed this moment with Drew.

APRIL 25TH 2020 1:28PM

“Mrs Lopez, I’m Y/n L/n, I’m Naya’s best friend. I need your help.” Y/n stood on the steps outside of a two storey house with vines growing on the walls and an arch of flowers over the front gate.

An elderly woman of average height opened the door, she had dark skin which was wrinkled with age although she held a youthful aura about her.

“Of course, soulmate problems eh? Come on in Chiquita.”

Y/n walked into her house, silently wondering how she knew that she had soulmate problems. Mrs Lopez led her into a small room at the front of the house that smelt of incense. Mrs Lopez gestured to Y/n to sit down at a small table as she took a seat across from her.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

“I, well I, I think I found my soulmate.” Y/n stuttered, she felt foolish but she was desperate.

“Bonita that’s wonderful. What’s worrying you?” Mrs Lopez reached over and took Y/n hands in hers.

“He doesn’t know. He has no clue we’re soulmates and it’s killing me.” Y/n groaned, the pain in her chest returning.

“Oh you poor thing. That is unusual.” Mrs Lopez clicked her tongue, she released Y/n’s hands and poured her cup of hot chamomile tea.

“Are you sure that he’s yours? Sometimes emotions can cloud our spiritual judgements.”

“Yes. I know. He’s just, I know Mrs Lopez.” Mrs Lopez smiled a sad smile when her nose scrunched up suddenly.

“What age is he? When’s his birthday?”

“Em, November fourth, I believe. He’ll be turning 27.”

“Oh Amor.” Mrs Lopez shook her head as she stood up and started rummaging in her drawers.

“What? What’s wrong?” Y/n sat up, watching as Mrs Lopez walked around the room with surprising grace for her age.

Mrs Lopez didn’t respond as she walked back over to Y/n, a small bottle in her hand.

“We have the same soulmate through every lifetime. We may have different bodies, but the soul remembers. Something must have happened to him in his past life that is blocking him from remembering you in this life. You need to get him to remember what happened.” Mrs Lopez handed Y/n the bottle, “A few drops of this in a drink or in food until the memory returns should do the trick. It should take about three months to work. It’s just a herbal remedy, so it’s perfectly safe.”

Y/n held the bottle in her hands, she could solve this.

“Sometimes, the universe is wrong. Make sure you actually want this, you have the choice to choose if you want him to remember you. Some people don’t get that luxury.” Mrs Lopez sounded like she spoke from experience.

“But what did you need to know his birthday for?” Y/n watched as Mrs Lopez’s face fell in melancholy.

“Have you ever heard of the 27 club?”

“You mean the conspiracy about a bunch of celebrities dying at 27?” Y/n chuckled in confusion.

“There’s a reason. Soulmates are precious and rare so you only have so long to form the bond with them.” Y/n felt sick, “You have until their 27th birthday. But sometimes we run out of time and sometimes people can’t handle it.”

“Why? What happens if I can’t get Drew to remember me before his 27th birthday?”

“Amor,”

“Please. Mrs Lopez tell me.”

“You’ll forget. Both of you will forget that you ever met each other and every memory you have together, will leave you. You’ll only be left with a feeling that something is missing.”

Now Y/n was going to be sick.

Taglist: @butterfliesinthenightsky @netflix-imagines @copper-boom @starrystarkey93 @drew-starkey @maybanksbaby @poguequeen @prejudic3 @nxsmss @ilovejjmaybank

AHH!! did you like it??? i really hope you enjoyed. thank you so much for reading and feedback is VERY appreciated!! thank you and stay safe!

#drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey obx #drew starkey imagines #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe obx imagine #obx #obx imagine #outer banks #outer banks imagine #golden #drew starkey series #drew starkey soulmate au

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parjiljehavey · 4 years ago

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Lost Shadows Left Behind iv

Summary: He breathed in deeply, eyes closed. Vanilla and jasmine. Old books and incense. It took him back to a time where all he knew the warm sunshine of the island and the reverence of her touch.

i ii interlude vergilius iii

Read on A03!

25th of August, 2:23am

Two years, two months and ten days after the events of Redgrave City

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Nero had been... happy, Vergil noticed, when he finally returned from Russia. Vergil didn't ask how meeting her had gone. He only knew that they met for lunch on a regular basis, now. Nero came and went as he usually did in the following months. Vergil notices the past two times Nero had had a lunch meeting, that he'd be dropped off by a frankly awful appearing land rover. Instead of the occasional whiff he used to pick up off of Nero, the scent of… her was strong and clung to his son. Vergil had, much to his embarrassment and Dante’s amusement, caught himself scenting the air, tongue almost flicking out past his lips. He wasn’t proud of it, but he started holding his breath whenever Nero was near.

As a half-devil, Vergil didn’t need to breathe as often as a human did, much like he didn’t need much sleep or food, and his lung capacity was greater than a human’s could ever be. Father hadn’t needed to mimic the action of the lungs movement, but did for simplicity’s sake.

Dante, of course, had caught on to what Vergil was doing.

“Ya know, sooner or later the kid’s gonna figure out that you’re holding your breath around him. Might hurt his feelings.”

Vergil had glared at Dante, who was reclining with a magazine on his face and his dirty boots up on his desk, a pose he seemed to live in during idle moments. “I fail to see how that is any of your business.”

“My family, my business.” Vergil had grunted, returning to his own perusing of a tome they had pilfered on their previous joint excursion a week ago.

“It’s that new smell on him, ain’t it? It’s her’s?”

Vergil had deigned to not answer.

Nero was currently out on a hunt in the surrounding countryside. "Mother-Son Bonding Time" Dante had called it, when Nero had told them. Vergil had remained silent as Nero made a rather rude hand gesture at Dante and gone running out the door when they heard honking outside. Vergil had thought for a moment that it was Nicoletta, but looking out the window he saw that same land rover idling as Nero hopped into the passenger seat.

He could make out the silhouette of the driver, clearly female that reached over to hug Nero before the land rover drove off. Vergil understood the pang in his heart; so close but so far.

It ended up being a busy night. Several employment opportunities had appeared all over the city and Dante had elected to take them all, proposing a competition. Vergil had accepted the wager, as he wouldn’t have to handle laundry when he won.

They had gone their separate ways, Dante going taking the western part of the city while Vergil took the eastern side. Empusas were… simple minded creatures at the end of the day and the fight was over quickly once he had them all clustered into one group. The sun had risen and lit the city in an array of orange and yellow. Vergil noticed that that land rover was sitting outside of the shop. Deep gouges penetrated the vehicle, rending metal. Plastic sheeting covered a window. He placed a hand on the hood and noted that it was cold. It had been there for a long time. The driver side window was rolled down and Vergil could nearly taste the scent. Nero’s mingled with two others. One he was intimately familiar with and the other he didn’t know.

Vergil frowned, looking at the shop. The light downstairs was on. Vergil had turned it off himself when he and Dante had left. Coming up the steps, Vergil opened the door and stepped inside. The jukebox was on, crooning out Bob Sager as the fans whirled overhead. He noted Dante had yet to return. The first aid kit that his brother kept for his human compatriot was out on the kitchenette’s counter. He could hear the shower running upstairs. Vergil closed the door behind him as he stepped further inside. He turned towards the lounge area and...

“Good morning Vergil.”

He stood still, silent. Just staring at her, a shadow of the past who was sitting on the end of the couch leaning over the coffee table to write in a black book; two similar books were stacked next to her. Pale scars cut across the skin of her face; a bandage was secured to her shoulder that was beginning to prick red against sterile white.

Her chestnut hair now had silver threads with a streak of it by her temple, but it shone in the light just like he remembered as it hung past her shoulders like a curtain over him a lifetime ago. Her eyes were still bright. She almost looked just like she had all those years ago.

He breathed in deeply, eyes closed. Vanilla and jasmine. Old books and incense. It took him back to a time where all he knew the warm sunshine of the island, the chirping of birds and insects, the sound of her laughter and the reverence of her touch.

“Good morning. Lucrecia.”

He stared at her, she stared at him.

She smiled.

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tagging: @queenmuzz @starrymindgurl

#devil may cry #devil may cry 5 #vergil #vergil sparda #vergil x nero's mother #vergil x nero's mom #nero's mom #nero's mother #oc: lucrecia capello #vergil you emotionally constipated dingus #Should we start singing Kiss the Girl?

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merrysithmas · 5 years ago

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some POPPER-centric hcs:

Boris and Theo celebrating Popper's birthday together for two years, waking up at two in the afternoon, blinds drawn tight - but not tight enough to banish the bright gleam of treasure chest gold that flares through the slits between them, 777 Vegas coin yellow, graffitiing malleable stripes of desert sun across the walls and crumpled sheets. Theo peeking a tired eye over the coverlet from under Boris' arm, little Popper’s big cookie-round ink eyes already awake and staring at him, tail wagging bashfully against the sheets in the silence.

Boris, who was snoring just a moment ago, starts up, suddenly, electrified, hollering a gasping realization that sounds something like, “Moy malchik!” The sound pops a breaker in Theo’s brain, letting loose a migraine from last night's bender, which is evidenced by the toppled pill bottles (Xandra's), the semi-collapsed beer cans and the vague memory of Boris' stoned over-confidence ("Potter! Look - against my head - watch - I bet I can - like the movies!"), and the ultimately ignorable ache of his hamstrings.

At Boris' startling exclamation Popper lets loose an exuberant tirade of ungodly shrieking, like set off by the crack of a gun at race he was raring for, immediately licking Boris' morning-slick skin, teenaged greasy and gross, and Boris is laughing so loud that the walls almost shake, as they are so regularly starved and thin of joy. And Theo sits up, wincing (that phantom ache again, inadmissible memories) and leans on his elbow, reaching out to pat the wild little thing who quickly turns on him, "Ok - Happy birthday! Happy birthday!"

II.

Boris and Theo washing Popper in the sink - he reeks. Sickly sweet rotten fruit-smell compounded with the wet mildewy stench of old laundry, distinctly intermixed with the odor of shit. Popper’s yelping echoes through the kitchen like an antique car horn, petrified, claws rigid on the edge of the sink, braced for continued frantic attempts to flee his sudsy prison and energized with bouts of fervor not entirely unlike a demonic possession. The one overhead light fixed accusatorily above the kitchen sink makes the whole set up look like an interrogation room - worlds away from the girly relaxing grooming videos they found on Youtube.

“Potter! Not this way!" Boris screeches - voice cracking like it has been lately - exacerbated in its rawness by the cheap, caustic brand of cigarettes he smokes. Lately they’ve been meeting the parched maw of his chapped lips like a consecutive line of ants, one after the other, his fingernails yellowing. Popper shakes violently, way before Theo is ready and can throw the ratty towel across his drenched body, whirling like a windmill, fur centripetal and spiralling, soaking their filthy t-shirts flat onto their bony bruised limbs.

“Oh, Popper," Boris outright coos, followed by a placating barrage of what is unmistakably a grandmotherly coddle of (likely) Polish. "You look just like Potter!" he declares, finally discarding his ciagrette, which dims in the puddle on the counter as it sucks up water. Theo grabs it as it does, revives it, takes a long, charring drag of nicotine and tar. His eyes narrow behind his glasses, observing the drowned-rat Maltese, frigid and shaking to its bones, and completely hates how Popper's forlorn appearance quite accurately recalls his own reflecton, just in from the pool, hair flat to his head, eyes big and, somehow always, helpless.

III.

Boris and Theo say goodbye to Popper when he is fifteen. Congestive heart failure - a diagnosis so deleterious and uncomfortably human Theo finds it hard to believe when the middle-aged vet ("Dr Janet", purple earrings, thick rectangular glasses - incense burning, loose leaf tea drinking, National Park lover) breaks it to him. She seems to understand the frozen bones in his shoulders and his unexpected quietness better than he does, leaving the room before he notices she’s gone.

Even in the darkest edges of his flayed existentialisms Theo never found room for dogs. Dogs, he supposes for the first time, in an achingly unfair realization, with their bright renewable resource of happiness (which they often give freely even to the undesevering, or unknowning, or unappreciative) are immune to such nihilistic musings. Popper stares at him from the table, ragged and old, too heavy in the middle and too thin on the edges, breathing all wrong. How did - all that time pass?

Boris, on video-chat in Kyyiv, up to no nefarious deed (he insists) is the one, for once, startled by Theo’s harsh red eyes, like he's been doping too much again, but there’s no dope - just a clinical setting and a hard shuddering breathing, from somewhere offscreen, quiet like it’s coming from a baby in crib.

Boris, like a knitted sweater, so often and inevitably pulled in many different directions until he disappears, seems to swat away half a dozen Non-English speaking acquaintances before the line goes quiet on his end and Theo can actually explain what is going on. The way he touches the screen on the video chat with his fingertips when Theo presents it to Popper (“Let me see him please,” Boris had asked, with no hidden heartbreak) makes Theo’s chest crush inward like the emotional equivalent of the impact of a car accident.

Boris says no at first, when Theo makes the suggestion, no let him go when he's supposed to, not yet, then: let me see him first, and makes it all the way to JFK before his phone rings. He doesn't answer, won't, but when he walks in the jingling door from the merciless city rain, the black tails of his coat dragging water, all sharp angles and dark shadows, he already knows.

“He couldn’t wait anymore,” Theo says. And when he meets Theo’s cherry red eyes, Boris doesn’t yell, or get angry - he cries. Right there in the lobby - he cries. Hands shielding his eyes, like a boy cowering beneath the shade of an umbrella.

IV.

Later they bump coke in the bathroom of Gramercy Tavern, shitfaced at the table, “Remember when he ate Xandra’s G-string?” Theo says so loudly it rings across the room like a papal blessing.

“Aha! Yes! So sneaky. Little pervert! Gets that from you! And the time he shit in the grocery store? Aisle 12?”

The memories pour out: “His fucking pink collar with the bell on it.” “How he howl like - ooo ooo oooo! So annoying! Always in the morning! Yes, Popchyk! I’m coming!” “Oh when we caught him fucking The Playa’s chihuahua?” “да, I told him he could do better! He was nice boy she was not so nice. Still, he got more ass than either one of us,” Boris says fondly, proudly, and clinks his shotglass to Theo for what seems like the hundreth time.

“Something deeply not right about catching a Maltese in the throes of passion,” Theo says, blinking long-disturbed eyes behind the dewy lenses of his glasses. Boris seems to agree, with a noncomittal grunt, and puts a heavy, vice-like grip onto Theo’s shoulder, shaking him until he looks up.

“Like a teddy bear getting a blowjob,” he says, and Theo laughs a half-choked laugh. They’re both crying. They’re both fucking crying.

“To Popchyk née Popper, G-string sniffer, pillow hat, accomplished singer,” Theo sniffs, sitting up straightly from his messy, hunched position over the table, head back against the booth. Boris meets his eyes, they’re both such a fucking mess. “And friend.”

“Vichnaya pamyat,” Boris says formally, in response. Theo smashes his glass, agreeing.

“Eternal memory.”

“Open any one! Any one you want!” Boris crows happily, the tip of his nose red like he’s been outside in the cold but he hasn’t, not for hours, and the sloshing bottle of Christmas cheer which is sitting (carelessly, without a coaster, Theo notices with disdain) on the mahogany side table is nearly empty at only half past noon. “Oh! My big mistake!” Boris makes a big show of putting his hand to his chest in guilt, elevating the bottle and placing it on top of a book instead. “блядь,” he scoffs.

“I know what ‘bitch’ in Russian is,” Theo answers, wrapped warmly in a woolen Burberry pullover, burgundy, with the festive forest green cuffs of his starched button up curling around the ends of his sleeves. Snow is falling outside like white wafting butterflies, the stone Antwerp architecture nestled under frost, Tchaikovsky on the speakers hooked up to Boris’ sentimental iPhone.

“I know!” Boris says cheerily, gesturing towards the presents beneath the tree with a sweeping, encouraging hand. “Any one!”

Theo rolls his eyes, but as they land on the smattering of gifts wrapped festively on the dark hardwood floor his mood lifts. Picking up a small one, dark matte navy blue with a silver ribbon Boris exclaims offendedly -

“No! Any one!” he repeats, taking the blue one out of Theo’s hands and replacing it with a rather less elegant medium-sized red box, bundled together with a haphazard green string. “This one!”

The oddly-weighted box quivers in his grip, a strange feeling which sends an unexpected thrill of fear through Theo, “What is this.”

“Open!” Boris goads. “Just look!” he seems pleased with himself, taking another long hit off the joint that is smoking in the ash tray and then rubbing his palms together and leaning forward over his knees, eagerly like a kid.

The box is easy to open, just a cover over a base, which Theo lifts to reveal the small fuzzy face of a tiny, tiny round dog, so extremely gay, circular in the face like a teddy bear, pawing at the side of the box.

“You like her?” Boris asks with the trepidation of new fallen snow, peering over Theo’s shoulder.

The puppy stares at him, unblinking and cherubic, and softly licks Theo’s nose. It happily lets out the shrillest bark from its tiny lungs, a sound so high-pitched it makes the bells on the tree tingle in the vaguest memory of tinnitus.

“Ah, бубенчи�� Popchykova!” Boris laughs.

Theo hoists the little thing up, blinking tree lights ensconsing the ball of its fuzz, an ornament-shape itself - the puppy wriggles disorganized limbs in midair, pawing innocently for warmth and closeness. Somehow smaller, more effeminate, and more annoying than his last dog. He loves her already. Round cookie-shaped eyes and a bark that splits his skull. And the name?

It fits.

#the goldfinch #boreo #popchyk borysovych decker pavlikovsky #i have a lot of feelings abt popper ok

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greymuse · 5 years ago

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Witchy QnA

1. Are you solitary or in a coven?

Solitary!

2. Do you consider yourself Wiccan, Pagan, witch, or other?

Witch, or Enchantress if I wanna sound fancy

3. What is your zodiac sign?

Leo sun, Aquarius moon, Leo rising

4. Do you have a Patron God/dess?

Nope

5. Do you work with a Pantheon?

Nope

6. Do you use tarot, palmistry, or any other kind of divination?

Tarot sometimes

7. What are some of your favorite herbs to use in your practice? (if any)

Im just starting to get into more physical items. I was raised to do most things mentally.

8. How would you define your craft?

Im not sure? Green but a lil eclectic

9. Do you curse? If not, do you accept others who do?

I dont think of it as cursing. More so protection from certain people.

10. How long have you been practicing?

I found out about what I was already doing as being Witchcraft a couple months ago. But Ive been using Tarot, using kitchen Witch spells, as “prayers” as spells since I can remember

11. Do you currently or have you ever had any familiars?

Nope. I hope to have one soon though

12. Do you believe in Karma or Reincarnation?

Absolutely believe in karma. Reincarnation, possibly. Its definitely something I think about

13. Do you have a magical name?

Nope.

14. Are you “out of the broom closet”?

My whole moms side practices casually, so I mean I guess? But I havent referred to myself as a Witch or something like that.

15. What was the last spell you performed?

I enchanted a ring I got. Also, a money spell that worked but uhh its definitely showing me that I need to work harder.

16. Would you consider yourself knowledgeable?

Im pretty decent. Most of what I look up is common knowledge to me

17. Do you write your own spells?

I havent yet, but I also dont do many spells verbally. I more so visually manifest

18. Do you have a book of shadows? If so, how is it written and/or set up?

I do, Its just a plain lil notebook, I have just some basic reference sheet type things in it.

19. Do you worship nature?

Absolutely

20. What is your favorite gemstone?

rose quartz. or tigers eye

21. Do you use feathers, claws, fur, pelt, skeletons/bones, or any other animal body part for magical work?

I dont particularly enjoy using animal/ human materials. I use natural things, like dirt and water.

22. Do you have an altar?

Not so much a physical Altar, but my bed is definitely my safe space and I can clear my mind here the easiest.

23. What is your preferred element?

Water, but fire always make me wide eyed and curious. definitely curious. but its destructive potential scares me.

24. Do you consider yourself an Alchemist?

Not art all haha

25. Are you any other type of magical practitioner besides a witch?

Im not sure!

26. What got you interested in witchcraft?

realizing that I had been practicing for my whole life and I hadnt known before

27. Have you ever performed a spell or ritual with the company of anyone who was not a witch?

yeah, with my mom and her mom. I just didnt know at the time. We do protection spells often.

28. Have you ever used ouija?

yup! with my mom and her mom. Its just a family thing we do every time we all get together. I grew up thinking it was completely normal.

29. Do you consider yourself a psychic?

My mom says I used to be. I used to dream about natural disasters before they happened as a kid. I dont think im too good anymore. just empathetic.

30. Do you have a spirit guide? If so, what is it?

I dont think I do. If anything, I do feel a feminine energy? dark (like a shadow, not negative) and watery is the best way I can describe it. But its not a human entity. Just energy.

31. What is something you wish someone had told you when you first started?

That not everyone believes what you do. And its totally okay! Just maybe dont loudly announce your Ouija board antics with your science teacher in middle school.

32. Do you celebrate the Sabbats? If so which one is your favorite?

I havent before, but im going to try to this year

33. Would you ever teach witchcraft to your children?

Absolutely. I want my son to grow up the same way I did around magick. Itll be normal for him.

34. Do you meditate?

Sometimes! its definitely something im trying to do more often.

35. What is your favorite season?

Fall and Spring! Theres so much change

36. What is your favorite type of magick to preform?

Im not sure yet! Ive only just started branching out and actually considering what ive been doing all my life as magick.

37. How do you incorporate your spirituality into your daily life?

Daily affirmations/ protection spells, I manifest me and my sons happiness and safety every day.

38. What is your favorite witchy movie?

I dont think Ive seen any haha

39. What is your favorite witchy book, both fiction and non-fiction. Why?

The Darkest Powers books by Kelly Armstrong. More supernatural (vampires, werewolves, stuff like that) but I loved it growing up.

40. What is the first spell you ever preformed? Successful or not.

Knowingly, a protection spell from someone who had hurt me

41. What’s the craziest witchcraft-related thing that’s happened to you?

Im not sure! I can see auras if i really focus and can tune into someone, so maybe when i saw a family member with a pure black aura? That was freaky

42. What is your favourite type of candle to use?

I dont use candles! Bonfires or fires in fireplaces usually, to burn a paper if needed. Again, I dont trust myself with fire very much.

43. What is your favorite witchy tool?

My crystals and my tarot. They all have vibrations. Everything does but especially those, because im so connected to them

44. Do you or have you ever made your own witchy tools?

I want to! Havent yet

45. Have you ever worked with any magical creatures such as the fea or spirits?

Spirits, yes. I can call on family that Ive known in person for protection. Been doing that as long as i can remember

46. Do you practice color magic?

I used to! i dont really anymore.

47. Do you or have you ever had a witchy teacher or mentor of any kind?

My mom, aunt, and grandma!

48. What is your preferred way of shopping for witchcraft supplies?

Dollar store, thrift store, antique stores (though im always hesitant to use something that belonged to someone else. If there isnt a close emotional attachment, there wont be any noticeable vibrations.

49. Do you believe in predestination or fate?

I think theres a general way that things can happen. More like a decide your fate book. There are multiple options, it just depends on what you choose.

50. What do you do to reconnect when you are feeling out of touch with your practice?

Meditate, or go to the lake.

51. Have you ever had any supernatural experiences?

ohhhh boy. I got stories.

52. What is your biggest witchy pet peeve?

People thinking theyre better bc they have a crap ton of materials, thinking im less than because I visualize easier than with material items.

53. Do you like incense? If so what’s your favorite scent?

I do, I just cant very often. I have a child and very smell sensitive people livingg with me

54. Do you keep a dream journal of any kind?

I rarely ever remember a dream, so no

55. What has been your biggest witchcraft disaster?

Im not sure ive had one yet

56. What has been your biggest witchcraft success?

I havent seen who i dont want to see since protecting myself

57. What in your practice do you do that you may feel silly or embarrassed about?

Everything, haha. I think thats why I enjoy visualizing instead of rituals or verbal stuff.

58. Do you believe that you can be an atheist, Christian, Muslim or some other faith and still be a witch too?

Absolutely!

59. Do you ever feel insecure, unsure or even scared of spell work?

yes, I feel like it //can be// kinda like a genie in a bottle type thing. Itll work, but not without a price.

60. Do you ever hold yourself to a standard in your witchcraft that you feel you may never obtain?

Nope

61. What is something witch related that you want right now?

A cauldron to mix and burn things in haha

62. What is your rune of choice?

I dont know yet! Runes are something Im looking into

63. What is your tarot card of choice?

My birth card, the Tower.

64. Do you use essential oils? If so what is your favorite?

I love lemon and eucalyptus

65. Have you ever taken any kind of witchcraft or pagan courses?

nope!

66. Do you wear pagan jewelry in public?

Nope

67. Have you ever been discriminated against because of your faith or being a witch?

No one that would feel that way knows anything about it

68. Do you read or subscribe to any pagan magazines?

nope

69. Do you think it’s important to know the history of paganism and witchcraft?

Yes. Its like knowing world history and us history, We need to learn from the past.

70. What are your favorite things about being a witch?

I feel powerful, and connected and accepted by nature.

71. What are your least favorite things about being a witch?

having to tiptoe around things around certain people

72. Do you listen to any pagan music? If so who is your favorite singer/band?

Nope! ill have to look into it

73. Do you celebrate the Esbbats? If so, how?

I havent fully figured out what i want to do for the moon cycles yet, but I definitely want to. the moon and water are so closely related

74. Do you ever work skyclad?

No, but i mean.. maybe one day?

75. Do you think witchcraft has improved your life? If so, how?

I feel like i have more control of how im able to use my emotions and feelings

76. Where do you draw inspiration from for your practice?

The energy i talked about before.. It gets more intense and stronger sometimes, and i know i need to put more time and effort into my practice

77. Do you believe in ‘fantasy’ creatures? (Unicorns, fairies, elves, gnomes, ghosts, etc)

no, but i do believe in energy. not ghosts per say but definitely energy

78. What’s your favorite sigil/symbol?

I try to make most of them myself. I have one for protection while driving that i use for me and my boyfriend a lot. And one for the safety of my son.

79. Do you use blood magick in your practice? Why or why not?

Not as of right now. I did bleed onto my tarot cards on accident though..

80. Could you ever be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t support your practice?

Theres a difference between “doesnt understand and doesnt care to” and “fully doest support and refuses to let you practice safely”. I dont mind the first, but wouldnt stay with the second.

81. In what area or subject would you most like your craft to grow?

Reading auras, and tarot. Also just connecting with nature more

82. What’s your favorite candle scent? Do you use it in your practice?

I love fall scents! but no, i dont really use candles

83. Do you have a pre-ritual ritual? (I.e. Something you do before rituals to prepare yourself for them). If so what is it?

Meditate and protect

84. What real life witch most inspires your practice?

My mom honestly lmao. i dont think she views herself as a full witch though.And my aunt

85. What is your favorite method of communicating with deity?

I dont worship dieties. But i like to just be in natural and connect emotionally, nonverbally to this energy Im somehow connected with.

86. How do you like to organize all your witchy items and ingredients?

In this lil wooden box my mom gave me for my birthday to hold the tarot cards my grandma gave me haha.

87. Do you have any witches in your family that you know of?

my mom. aunt, and grandma. I know my grandpas grandma was a voodoo witch too.

88. How have you created your path? What is unique about it?

I havent seen much about nonverbal, mostly mental witchcraft. So i guess thats one unique thing.

89. Do you feel you have any natural gifts or affinities (premonitions, hearing spirits, etc.) that led you toward the craft? If so what are they?

A couple things. Feeling vibrations, the connection to nature, auras, growing up surrounded by it.

90. Do you believe you can initiate yourself or do you have to be initiated by another witch or coven?

I believe you can initiate yourself. I dont feel the need for someone elses validation is i know my connection with nature is real

91. When you first started out in your path what was the first thing or things you bought?

crystals, lmao

92. What is the most spiritual or magickal place you’ve been?

The southern oregon coast. honestly everywhere in oregon feels so alive and vibrating so heavily with energy. The water and the lush greenery is perfection.

93. What’s one piece of advice you’d give someone who is searching for their matron and patron deities?

I have no idea, I dont follow a deity

94. What techniques do you use to ‘get in the zone’ for meditation?

quiet, listen to music i like and that help calm me, slightly cool, a breeze is good. the sound of real water flowing from a lake or ocean. recordings of water dont help me. sometimes white noise if theres too much noise

95. Did visualization come easily to you or did you have to practice at it?

visualization is the easiest thing for me. ive always daydreamed so heavily that itll be like im dreaming with my eyes totally open and tracking.

96. Do you prefer day or night? Why?

early mornings, right as the sun is coming up.

97. What do you think is the best time and place to do spell work?

I like doing spell work before bed, when the moon is bright enough to light up what im doing

98. How did you feel when you cast your first circle? Did you stumble or did it go smoothly?

I dont know if it counts as casting a circle? but i visualize a swirling white ball of energy, starting out like a strawberry size in my hands, and every time i breath in, it gets bigger. Its a protection circle. i learned to do it at like?? 3 years old?

99. Do you believe witchcraft gets easier with time and practice?

Yup!

100. Do you believe in many gods or one God with many faces?

If i had to guess, id say multiple gods/ goddesses. one entity shouldnt have that much power imo.

101. Do you eat meat, eggs and dairy?

Ive been trying to go vegetarian, and i eat minimal eggs and dairy.

102. What is your favorite color and why?

dark, smokey colors. grey, black, dark muted purples, navy, smoky pink.

103. What is the one question you get asked most by non-practitioners or non-pagans? How do you usually respond?

I dont have many people im even slightly into that stuff, let alone a witch. So usually just “how do i cleanse my house? i think its haunted” type stuff

104. Which of your five senses would you say is your strongest?

Feel, haha, physically and emotionally.

105. What is a pagan or witchcraft rule that you preach but don’t practice?

Always properly cleanse new materials, haha

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she-wolf-of-highgarden · 6 years ago

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Arya and Trees

Maiden of the Tree, indeed. (Pt.1/?...there are more tree mentions than i anticipated when i started this)

“Her bedchamber was the only place that Arya liked in all of King's Landing, and the thing she liked best about it was the door, a massive slab of dark oak with black iron bands.” - Arya II, AGoT

“The old man dragged her well off the road into a tangle of trees, cursing and muttering all the while. "If I had a thimble o' sense, I would've left you in King's Landing. You hear me, boy?" He always snarled that word, putting a bite in it so she would be certain to hear. "Unlace your breeches and pull 'em down. Go on, there's no one here to see. Do it." Sullenly, Arya did as he said. "Over there, against the oak. Yes, like that." She wrapped her arms around the trunk and pressed her face to the rough wood. "You scream now. You scream loud." - Arya I, ACoK

“A boy called Tarber tossed a handful of acorns on top of Praed's body, so an oak might grow to mark his place.” - Arya II, ACoK

“The one-armed woman died at evenfall. Gendry and Cutjack dug her grave on a hillside beneath a weeping willow.” - Arya II, ACoK

“The land was gentle enough, rolling hills and terraced fields interspersed with meadows and woodlands and little valleys where willows crowded close to slow shallow streams.” - Arya III, ACoK

“Once, in the middle of a dense stand of oak, they came face-to-face with three men pulling a load of firewood in an ox cart, with no way for either to get around. There had been nothing for it but to wait while the foresters unhitched their ox, led him through the trees, spun the cart, hitched the ox up again, and started back the way they'd come. The ox was even slower than the wagons, so that day they hardly got anywhere at all.

Arya could not help looking over her shoulder, wondering when the gold cloaks would catch them. At night, she woke at every noise to grab for Needle's hilt. They never made camp without putting out sentries now, but Arya did not trust them, especially the orphan boys. They might have done well enough in the alleys of King's Landing, but out here they were lost. When she was being quiet as a shadow, she could sneak past all of them, flitting out by starlight to make her water in the woods where no one would see. Once, when Lommy Greenhands had the watch, she shimmied up an oak and moved from tree to tree until she was right above his head, and he never saw a thing.” - Arya III, ACoK

“Lommy Greenhands sat propped up between two thick roots at the foot of an oak. A spear had taken him through his left calf during the fight at the holdfast. By the end of the next day, he had to limp along one-legged with an arm around Gendry, and now he couldn't even do that. They'd hacked branches off trees to make a litter for him, but it was slow, hard work carrying him along, and he whimpered every time they jounced him.” - Arya V, ACoK

“They found Lommy where they'd left him, under the oak. "I yield," he called out at once when he saw them. He'd flung away his own spear and raised his hands, splotchy green with old dye. "I yield. Please." - Arya V, ACoK

“With Pinkeye awake, she dared not go back to her bed. Not knowing where else to hide, she made for the godswood. She liked the sharp smell of the pines and sentinels, the feel of grass and dirt between her toes, and the sound the wind made in the leaves.” - Arya IX, ACoK

“She slashed at birch leaves till the splintery point of the broken broomstick was green and sticky. "Ser Gregor," she breathed. "Dunsen, Polliver, Raff the Sweetling." She spun and leapt and balanced on the balls of her feet, darting this way and that, knocking pinecones flying. "The Tickler," she called out one time, "the Hound," the next. "Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, Queen Cersei." The bole of an oak loomed before her, and she lunged to drive her point through it, grunting "Joffrey, Joffrey, Joffrey." Her arms and legs were dappled by sunlight and the shadows of leaves. A sheen of sweat covered her skin by the time she paused. The heel of her right foot was bloody where she'd skinned it, so she stood one-legged before the heart tree and raised her sword in salute. "Valar morghulis," she told the old gods of the north.” - Arya X, ACoK

“This postern was the least of Harrenhal's gates, a narrow door of stout oak studded with iron nails, set in an angle of the wall beneath a defensive tower.” - Arya X, ACoK

“Outside the walls of Harrenhal, a wolf howled long and loud. She lifted the bar, set it aside, and pulled open the heavy oak door.” - Arya X, ASoS

“It was no good arguing, Arya realized; Gendry had the right of it. The Mummers will need to sleep too, she told herself, hoping it was true. She was so weary it was a struggle even to get down from the saddle, but she remembered to hobble her horse before finding a place beneath a beech tree.” - Arya I, ASoS

“They still had not seen so much as a glimpse of the sun. It was growing colder, and pale white mists were threading between the pines and blowing across the bare burned fields.” - Arya I, ASoS

“The soldier pines were dressed in somber greens, the broadleafs in russets and faded golds already beginning to brown.” - Arya I, ASoS

“Lightfoot, she moved to the big old willow that grew beside the bend in the road and went to one knee in the grass and mud, within the veil of trailing branches.” - Arya II, ASoS

“Two, then. Arya bit her lip. She could not see them from where she knelt, on account of the willow. But she could hear.” - Arya II, ASoS

"Now who are you?" demanded Lem, in the deep voice that Arya had heard through the branches of the willow.” - Arya II, ASoS

“Are you Old Pate's daughter, then? A sister? A wife? Tell me no lies, Squab. I buried Old Pate myself, right there under that willow where you were hiding, and you don't have his look." He drew a sad sound from his harp. "We've buried many a good man this past year, but we've no wish to bury you, I swear it on my harp. Archer, show her."The archer's hand moved quicker than Arya would have believed. His shaft went hissing past her head within an inch of her ear and buried itself in the trunk of the willow behind her.” - Arya II, ASoS

“There were woods to her left, she saw. I can lose them there. A dry ditch ran along one side of the field, but she leapt it without breaking stride, and plunged in among the stand of elm and yew and birch trees. A quick peek back showed Anguy and Harwin still hard on her heels. Greenbeard had fallen behind, though, and she could not see Lem at all. "Faster," she told her horse, "you can, you can."Between two elms she rode, and never paused to see which side the moss was growing on. She leapt a rotten log and swung wide around a monstrous deadfall, jagged with broken branches.” - Arya III, ASoS

"I look like an oak tree, with all these stupid acorns."

"Nice, though. A nice oak tree." He stepped closer, and sniffed at her. "You even smell nice for a change." - Arya IV, ASoS

“The dogs caught the scent. He was sleeping off a drunk under a willow tree, if you believe it." - Arya VI, ASoS

“Panting from exertion, Clegane jerked his shield up over his head just in time, and the cave rang with the loud crack of splintering oak.” - Arya VI, ASoS

“With a shout of revulsion, he hacked down savagely on the broken oak, completing its destruction.” - Arya VI, ASoS

“Nor do they love the flames. For the oak recalls the acorn, the acorn dreams the oak, the stump lives in them both.” - Arya VIII, ASoS

“They sat on damp rocks beneath an oak tree, listening to the slow patter of water dripping from the leaves as they ate a cold supper of hardbread, moldy cheese, and smoked sausage.” - Arya IX, ASoS

“One day, in an earthen hollow made by the roots of a fallen oak, they came face to face with another survivor of the Twins.” - Arya XII, ASoS

“In the higher hills, they came upon a tiny isolated village surrounded by grey-green sentinels and tall blue soldier pines, and Clegane decided to risk going in.” - Arya XII, ASoS

“Close by the water's edge, they found some willows rising from a jumble of weathered rocks. Together the rocks and trees formed a sort of natural fort where they could hide from both river and trail. "Here will do," the Hound said. "Water the horses and gather some deadwood for a fire." When he dismounted, he had to catch himself on a tree limb to keep from falling.” - Arya XIII, ASoS

“There, where Denyo pointed, a line of stony ridges rose sudden from the sea, their steep slopes covered with soldier pines and black spruce.” - Arya I, AFfC

“The sound was as huge as he was, a terrible groaning and grinding, so loud it drowned out even the captain's voice and the crash of the waves against those pine-clad ridges.” - Arya I, AFfC

“The shadow lifted, the pine-clad ridges fell away to either side, the winds dwindled, and they found themselves moving through a great lagoon.” - Arya I, AFfC

“The scent was unfamiliar, and she put it down to some queer incense, but as she got deeper into the temple, they seemed to smell of snow and pine needles and hot stew.” - Arya I, AFfC

“Winterfell, she might have said. I smell snow and smoke and pine needles.” - Arya I, AFfC

#Arya Stark #We get it george the forest has trees #trees #a clash of trees #is more acurate #we know #A Song of Ice and Fire #asoiaf

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killerqueenjoy · 6 years ago

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99 Question Tag

okay okay I know i got tagged to do this like a month ago on my main blog by @santonicababy iM SORRY LIN ILY BUT THIS WAS SO DAMN LONG

1) DO YOU SLEEP WITH YOUR CLOSET DOORS OPEN OR CLOSED

I sleep in the room where everybodies closets are and they all gotta be closed goddamn do you know how spooky it is to even have one open during the night

2) DO YOU TAKE THE SHAMPOOS AND CONDITIONER BOTTLES FROM HOTELS

my parents do, but alas I don't use them in case they have silicones or sulphates in them because I got a whole lotta curls to protect

3)DO YOU SLEEP WITH YOUR SHEETS TUCKED IN OR OUT?

if this refers to the sheet protecting the mattress, then my answer is in because how the fuck would you be able to sleep with that moving around???

4) HAVE YOU STOLEN A STREET SIGN BEFORE

NO SORRY IM BORING

5)DO YOU LIKE TO USE POST IT NOTES

heck yeah, but for random shit

6) DO YOU EVER CUT OUT COUPONS BUT THEN NEVER USE THEM

nee my parents are fancy fuckers who use the coupons on their phone (our local supermarket has a damn app skskksksk)

7) WOULD YOU RATHER BE ATTACKED BY A BIG BEAR OR A SWARM OF BEES

a bear because its one giant son of a bitch and not millions of tiny motherfuckers and also I've never been stung by a bee and intend to keep it that way because majority of my family seem to be allergic

8) DO YOU HAVE FRECKLES

nope! I have a couple beauty spots on my hands and face but thats kinda it

9) DO YOU ALWAYS SMILE FOR PICTURES

not really but if I've been told to smile then its 200% dead inside

10) WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST PET PEEVE

i find many things annoying

11)DO YOU EVER COUNT YOUR STEPS WHEN YOU WALK

only when i go up and down stairs, but i also try to make sure i step with each foot equally (if that makes sense) and i step on only certain colour tiles when im bored

12) HAVE YOU EVER PEED IN THE WOODS

the real question is have i ever been in the woods? both answers are no

13) HAVE YOU EVER POOPED IN THE WOODS

refer to question 12

14)ummmm idk what this question is meant to be curse you Lin

15)DO YOU CHEW YOUR PENS AND PENCILS

nope, the idea weirds me out

16) HOW MANY PEOPLE HAVE YOU SLEPT WITH THIS WEEK

none, this week and in general

17) WHAT SIZE IS YOUR BED

one person and a long yet smol doggo size

18) WHAT IS YOUR SONG OF THE WEEK

Eddie from the Rocky Horror Picture Show has been stuck in my head for the whole week so yeah i guess that

19)IS IT OKAY FOR GUYS TO WEAR PINK

HeLL YEAH DUDE HAVE YOU SEEN RAMI MALEK IN PINK

SKSKSKSKS END MY LIFE

but yeah, anyone can wear anything they want to wear (although a suit made out of meat might not be wise)

20) DO YOU STILL WATCH CARTOONS

dudeeeee scooby doo and tom and jerry are my jam I watch them on the regular (among other things)

21)WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVOURITE MOVIE

uhhm idkkkkk I tend to repress bad movies sksksk

22)WHERE WOULD YOU BURY HIDDEN TREASURE IF YOU HAD SOME

idk shove it in the closet ig at least it will be hidden behind my sexuality

23)WHAT DO YOU DRINK WITH DINNER

I usually only drink before or after but ig water??? cooldrink if I'm in a restaurant

24)WHAT DO YOU DIP A CHICKEN NUGGET IN

depends on the nug

25)WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE FOOD

How dare you assume i only have one favourite

tbh it depends cos i love pizza and pasta and stuff but then i cannot live with my granny's curries ksksmks

26) WHAT MOVIES COULD YOU WATCH OVER AND OVER AGAIN AND STILL LOVE

borhap, sing street, rhps, the natm movies, the harry potter movies, any mcu movies

27)LAST PERSON YOU KISSED/KISSED YOU

ahhahahahahahha bold of you to assume anyone wants to do that

28) WERE YOU EVER A BOY/GIRL SCOUT

nope but I was a catrobat which is basically my preschools acrobatics team that was actually really terrible

29)WOULD YOU EVER STRIP OR POSE NUDE IN A MAGAZINE

nahh m8

30) WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WROTE A LETTER TO SOMEONE ON PAPER

this week for a transactional task at school (It was in Afrikaans and I got a C skskskks)

31)CAN YOU CHANGE THE OIL IN A CAR

omg no

32)EVER GOTTEN A SPEEDING TICKET

not old enough to drive!

33)EVER RAN OUT OF GAS

my parents never have for as long as i can remember

34)WHATS YOUR FAVOURITE KINDA SANDWHICH

cheese because I am actually John Deacon

35)BEST THING TO EAT FOR BREAKFAST

MUFFINS!!!!

36)WHAT IS YOUR USUAL BEDTIME

school nights its 11pm otherwise i dont have one lol

37)ARE YOU LAZY

YES BUT MY LAZINESS MAKES ME ANXIOUS OOF

38)WHEN YOU WERE A KID WHAT DID YOU DRESS UP AS FOR HALLOWEEN

we dont celebrate that here but i rly want to it seems fun!

39)WHAT IS YOUR CHINESE ASTROLOGICAL SIGN

Ram, which is really cool because im an Aries, so I'm sheep squared

40)HOW MANY LANGUAGES CAN YOU SPEAK

English, Afrikaans (at a basic highschool level), I could speak very vERY basic isiZulu when I was younger but I'm not sure about now, I know a bit of French and Telugu, and I'm gonna start learning Hindi soon!!

41) DO YOU HAVE ANY MAGAZINE SUBSCRIPTIONS

nee

42) WHICH ARE BETTER, LEGOS OR LINCOLN LOGS

i didn't play much with legos and i have no idea what the second one is rip

43)ARE YOU STUBBORN

to an extent

44)WHO IS BETTER, LENO OR LETTERMAN

I kept reading Leno as Lenin ffs

45)EVER WATCH SOAP OPERAS

I watch them occasionally with my granny, but I don't keep up with them very well (Kasamh Se is my shit tho)

46)ARE YOU AFRAID OF HEIGHTS

no, im afraid of falling in general tho

47) DO YOU SING IN THE CAR

My dad and I bop frequently to Never Gonna Give You Up in the car, and also classic bollywood songs (we have even learnt the choreography for some)

48)DO YOU SING IN THE SHOWER

i perform

49) DO YOU DANCE IN THE CAR

well theres not exactly much space

50)EVER USED A GUN

nope

51)LAST TIME YOU GOT A PORTRAIT TAKEN BY A PHOTOGRAPHER

not sure

52)DO YOU THINK MUSICALS ARE CHEESY

most are but thats why i like them

53) IS CHRISTMAS STRESSFUL

we don't celebrate because we're not Christian (we still eat a lot and exchange presents tho), but it can get stressful if we have to visit extended family, mostly because my extended family loves to insult everything about me so thats great!

54)EVER EAT A PIEROGI

not i good sir

55) FAVOURITE TYPE OF FRUIT PIE

never had one, it doesnt appeal to me

56) OCCUPATIONS YOU WANTED TO BE WHEN YOU WERE A KID

a vet

57)DO YOU BELIEVE IN GHOSTS

i am a ghost

58)EVER HAD A DEJA-VU FEELING

not that i remember

59)DO YOU TAKE A VITAMIN DAILY

yes, I take a multi vitamin, a vitamin D pill because I'm vitamin D deficient, and im not sure if this is a vitamin or not but i take evening primrose oil so that im not outwardly a bitch due to pms

60)DO YOU WEAR SLIPPERS

i wear slipper socks, because my doggo got jealous of my doggie slippers and murdered them in cold blood

61)DO YOU WEAR A BATH ROBE

i have one and rarely use it because i forget it exists

62)WHAT DO YOU WEAR TO BED

a random shirt and pants, though ive been known to kick pants off (ive been doing that since birth), occasionally i manage to get the matching pj set

63)WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CONCERT

ive unfortunately never been to a concert before

64)WALMART TARGET OR KMART

ive never seen any of these stores in my country

65)NIKE OR ADIDAS

i own neither

66) CHEETOS OR FRITOS

neither

67)PEANUTS OR SUNFLOWER SEEDS

Peanuts because thats my doggos name!

68) EVER HEARD OF THE GROUP TRES BIEN

no sorry

69)EVER TAKE DANCE LESSONS

i went to a bhangra class for about a year, and we performed for our parents at the end of that year (i was in one of the few groups that didnt have to dance in lehengas thank goodness)

70)IS THERE A PROFESSION YOU PICTURE

YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE DOING

probably something creative, but I don't mind as long as they're happy with what they're doing and its not harming others!

71)CAN YOU CURL YOUR TONGUE

yep

72)EVER WON A SPELLING BEE

never entered one, having to spell out loud makes me anxious

73)HAVE YOU EVER CRIED BECAUSE YOU WERE SO HAPPY

i think so

74)OWN ANY RECORD ALBUMS

nope

75)OWN A RECORD PLAYER

i wish

76)DO YOU REGULARLY BURN INCENSE

my granny burns incense while I'm at school because my mom and i both get really sick when its just been lit and the smell is strong. Going to the temple is a damn nightmare because of it

77)EVER BEEN IN LOVE

no, too busy fangirling

78)WHO WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE IN CONCERT

oof a long list

Queen, Twenty One Pilots, Waterparks, Frank Iero and the Future Violents (ffs fronk stop changin the name), Panic! at the Disco...to name a few

79)WHAT WAS THE LAST CONCERT YOU SAW

refer to question 63

80)HOT TEA OR COLD TEA

both

81)TEA OR COFFEE

coffee

82)SUGAR COOKIES OR SNICKERDOODLES

sugar cookies

83)CAN YOU SWIM WELL

i wouldn't drown, but im no professional either

84)CAN YOU HOLD YOUR BREATH WITHOUT HOLDING YOUR NOSE

im doing it right now

85)ARE YOU PATIENT

86)DJ OR BAND AT A WEDDING

I've only ever been to Hindi,Tamil and Telugu weddings and lemme tell you 90% of the time bands flop at those weddings because they can't sing the classics without failing miserably, so DJs are generally better. However, in that case, if a band can perform those songs, then I'd prefer a band ig

87)EVER WON A CONTEST

yep, a couple of reading contests

88)HAVE YOU EVER HAD PLASTIC SURGERY

nope, not planning on it

89)WHICH ARE BETTER, BLACK OR GREEN OLIVES

dont like olives rip

90)CAN YOU KNIT OR CROCHET

i can knit!

in fact, my friends and i are so cool that we're in our schools knitting club (which besides myself, @grandfunnyemopainter and @imjustabruh , only has 2 other members)

91)BEST ROOM FOR A FIREPLACE

lounge or study/library

92)DO YOU WANT TO GET MARRIED

i guess, its not on my goal list tho

93)IF MARRIED, HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN MARRIED

94)WHO WAS YOUR HIGHSCHOOL CRUSH

currently in highschool, and in love with the borhap cast, sebastian stan, stephanie beatriz and band members (theres more but yeah)

95)DO YOU CRY AND THROW A FIT UNTIL YOU GET YOUR OWN WAY

nope, i have only two ways to deal, be a total pushover or a total bitch

96)DO YOU HAVE KIDS

nope

97)DO YOU WANT KIDS

kind of undecided, but i do want more pets

98)WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE COLOUR

Dark Blue

99)DO YOU MISS ANYONE RIGHT NOW

my dog, shes been ignoring me for about four hours now because I stayed at school for an extra hour (for knitting club!)

@softspaceboibrian @roger-taylor-owns-my-wigg @im-inlovewithmycar do it cowards

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shuuv · 6 years ago

Text

Chapter 3: The Revolutionary King (?) Part 1/3

Hidaka Akira laid on the bed, covered in a blanket but yet he still broke in a cold sweat.

“Not again.”

He was one of the only few on the frontlines that could fight for his king. There was a shortage of manpower in Scepter 4 as such, everyday, he works nearly 24/7 before returning to the pitch dark dorm with no viable source of electricity.

“Hehehehehehe.”

The candle flickered in the darkness. It wasn’t the sound of a mouse or a cockroach. It was a shadow in the shape of a young girl. Retreating like a tortoise into its shell, he hid in his blanket. The cry of a girl could be heard yet again. Covering his ears with his hands, he felt someone touched his back. “Hey, do you hear me? Why don’t you care now that I’m back? Come’on, play with me!” In a last ditch attempt to get rid of the “ghost”, Hidaka chanted and recited phrases from the bible.

“It’s not real!” He told himself.

Every night, he constantly heard eerie and busy footsteps. A pungent smell filled the area and it was as though he was a protagonist in a horror flick. His room seemed to be a hotspot for paranormal activity. No matter what talisman, burning of incense or chanting he did, the “ghosts” didn’t disappear. With the “paranormal activity” going on around him and the disappearance of the other squad members, his stress piled up.

It was a sensitive topic in a sense and no one would believe him even if he talked about it. Just like a kid telling his parents about monsters in his closet or under his bed. He tried sleeping with other members in their rooms but the “paranormal activity” wouldn’t stop. As such he came to a conclusion.

He was being haunted.

The bed rocked at night and moaning of girls, boys, men and women of all ages could be heard.

“I’ve hAD ENOUGH IF THIS! SOMEONE SAVE ME!!”

At this moment, a knocking could be heard. As the door creaked open, a figure emerged.

“Scuse me?”

Turned out, it was his superior and the Captain of Scepter4, Munakata Reisi. He was donned in casual clothes with a helmet-light on his head and a backpack. Hidaka felt as though he had met an idol for the first time. Or as if an angel had appeared.

“Is this the correct lightbulb?”* “Ahhh... yea i think it is.”

With that, Captain Munakata was about to leave the room.

“Captain! Where are you going?!” “To fix all the problems. Just listen to the next set of instructions.”

As he left, Hidaka felt as though the burden had been lifted and the “paranormal activity” had disappeared. Seems like Captain Munakata’s presence was stronger than any “ghost” in the world. He could finally get a good night’s rest.

Daiki Fuse stood on a cliff, skipping rocks into the ocean. He shouted and screamed, feeling lost in the great ocean before him His phone was unusable and no matter how much he shouted, no one could hear him. He was stranded on an island. He knew that it was impossible to swim back to shore, even though they had went through relentless beach training by Lieutenant Awashima. With the distance and his stamina, he would never make it. Even with a life jacket or a bouy. His experience in fishing taught him that the ocean is dangerous and swimming in its tough currents could easily sweep him away. After what had seemed like a shipwreck, Fuse had found a chest. With it, every amenity that could keep him alive. Ranging from tents and sleeping bags to beer, wine and underwear.

Here’s the first few pages :,,) Ive had this book for about 2/3 years now and yes my lazy ass didn’t bother translating till now :,D its written in traditional chinese and i suck at basic chinese already but my aunt majored in chinese history or smth so ill probs be uploading snippets day by day then compiling everything eventually. pray for daily updates orz :,D

Page 114 - 125

At the side of no man’s island, there where temporary toilets and many sources of entertainment, such as movies and PS4s. There was also a box filled with PSPs and Gameboys and other handheld consoles. It seems that someone had known he was going to be there and had prepared the island just for him.

Fuse thought to himself, “Looks like I’m in a trap... Well if I have too, I’ll drink muddy water and eat raw fish just to get out of here!”

There was a sign in the corner that said

‘The best camp spot is right here.’ The sign said.

Fuse thought of this whole trap as insulting however, he wanted a real challenge, not a paradise.

As such, he made a tank and formed it into a round ball with a cooler compartment for food.* He looked into the horizon and examined the sea. Well prepared, he jumped into the ocean and swam. However, after what seemed like hours of strenuous swimming, there was no sign of shore.

Frustated, he shouted “GODAMNIT!!!”

He splashed the surface of the water around him. All of a sudden, a motor could be heard. Fuse cried for help. He thought that it was a fishing boat at first, however, as the boat got closer, a bespectacled man with a miner’s hat leaned over the boat.

It was Captain Munakata.

“I’ve come to get you.”

Fuse chuckled to himself,

“Don’t cha think you’re too late?”

Fuse got onto the boat and dried himself off with a towel. It was in fact, a squid fishing boat. It wasn’t a big fishing boat and in the captain’s cabin, the Captain Munakata was chewing gum.**

“Fuse, its not like you to have jumped into the ocean. Were you that desperate?”

“I wanted to lure who the guy spying on me was.”

“That’s not wrong.”

With this compliment from the captain, Fuse felt a sense of security. Fuse had the right instinct, and that made him feel comforted.

“That island had everything for me. I can’t believe it.” Fuse felt super offended. *

“They tried keeping you on that island, Daiki-kun. By monitoring you on that island with CCTV cameras and with actual people watching you, they kept an eye on you. That’s what you think right? That you wanted to lure them out yes?”

Fuse nodded.

“Both you and I have the same thinking... if there was someone actually watching you, you came up with the best plan and found a way out.”

Fuse felt embarrassed yet proud.

“I’m more than happy that you personally came to fetch me, Captain Munakata.”

“While you may feel very fatigued, I urgently require your help. We meed everyone in the Special Forces to restore order and name to Scepter 4. Would you assist me?”

Fuse didn’t reply. However, he stood in attention and saluted to Captain Munakata.

“Captain! You don’t need to ask for my help. I will gratefully follow you without hesitation!”

Yuujiro Benzai was in a quaint town by the seaside. 11pm at night, he sat at the police station drinking instant coffee. He had been in this town as he was chasing a thief-strain. This “thief-strain” was Takeshi Tamada, aged 26. He was not employed. Benzai was sure that Tamada was hiding nearby. Benzai had a car ready to catch him.

The town was rather sub-urban, it wasn’t modernized and was rather rural, filled with grass and small wooden buildings. It was possible that Tamada was hiding in an abandoned building or in a vehicle. The whole area Benzai had to cover was as big as Tōkyo, as such, he was exhausted. This town actually had a very low crime rate. Policemen at the station empathized Benzai.

“Cases like this take time, let us help you.”

Benzai actually worried alot. Firstly, Scepter 4 was in disarray. Secondly, Lieutenant Awashima had disappeared. Thirdly, his partner Akiyama was still under suspicion of molestation. Although there was no point worrying. He knew that Akiyama was innocent. Akiyama already had the best lawyer to represent him, but Benzai still wanted to help.

Tamada was like a wild animal roaming about Hōkkaido. Tamada’s case file stated that he had already stolen tens of thousands of dollars. If Tamada had just turned himseld in, his punishment wouldn’t have been so bad, however, Tamada kept running away. As though he’d committed a grave crime.

Benzai thought for a moment. He was a high ranking officer in Scepter 4, why was he responsible of catching a theif. As he decided to leave the town, he stepped out of the police station and was greeted woth a flurry of lights. Strong winds blew at him. A helicopter that had belonged to Scepter 4 was above his head. He blinked for awhile, before making sure that the helicopter did belong to Scepter 4.

As the helicopter landed, wind gushed to Benzai’s face and used his hand to try and block it. As the helicopter door opened, Benzai generally felt surprised.

“Benzai-san! I got em! C’mon pack your stuff let’s go!”

This voice belonged to his squadmate, Fuse Daiki. Next to him stood Takeshi Tamada, in handcuffs and behind them stood Captain Munakata. Still in a state of surprise, Benzai hurriedly packed his luggage and left with the trio in the helicopter.

Arriving in a helicopter felt very... odd though.** Benzai was burning with questions.

“How did you manage to catch him?”

“I know what you’re feeling now, Benzai-san.”

“Benzai-kun, what do you think about this?”

Benzai was pnce again, in a state of bewilderment.

“Benzai-kun, you ran all over Japan just to catch Takeshi-kun. What do you think you’ve been doing all this while?” ^^^^^

Benzai had alot he wanted to ask Captain Munakata. But he began to recall what he’d been doing. Benzai wasn’t a genius, nor did he have an extraordinary IQ but he meticulously thought of every detail, even the small ones. When he was in the military, he accumulated a bunch of experience as a investigator.

“This whole situation is a mess, I don’t even have to point it out, do I?” The captain said.

“A strain activity hotspot has been happening is within a 100-kilometer radius.” Benzai reported.

Fuse nodded in agreement.

Munakata Reisi was a King, selected by the Slate. And Konomura Zenichi was after his role, and the role of Scepter 4.

“There are strains in this world, and they go against our “order”(1). That is why Scepter 4 exists. For our clan to work, a King must have clansmen. And we have to maintain order in out society. But everything with Konomura, is a special case.” In a sarcastic manner, Captain Munakata said

“All these strains committing crimes... they all have a variety of motives to escape. Though all of then are everywhere, not all of them are bad. Some strains have the sudden urge to steal or commit petty theft but its not always against the law. Some of them want to escape just because they want to pray to their dead relatives or hang out with their classmates.”

“Isn’t it strange for these to happen amongst strains? Didn’t they all commit crimes? Because of that Benzai-san has to travel all across Japan. Not everything that the strains say are true though.” Fuse interrupted.

“Some of these claims have a certain degree of truth. However, there are some strains starting rumors amongst others. Claiming that Scepter 4 is currently immobilized.” Munakata said.

Captain Munakata did not go into great detail about the mastermind, but both Fuse and Benzai knew who their captain was talking about. Konomura Zenichi.

“If it was not Konomura Zenichi, there would be no one else to attack Scepter 4 like that.”

“Firstly, how did Konomura Zenichi force minor strains like Takeshi Tamada to commit all these crimes and follow him? Tamada. Why did you decide to leave capital and run here? Who asked you to do it? Were you blackmailed?”

Tamada looked up at Benzai.

“Hmph!”

Tamada turned around. That was when Tamada has realised that Benzai had an anti-social aura around him.

“I just don’t want to be with the rebellious dogs!” Tamada pouted.

Even if its Konomura, it was unlikely that Tamada would listen to him. Would it be possible that Konomura had actually bribed Tamada?

Munakata closed his eyes, thought for a moment, and then smiled.

Fuse smiled as well. He didn’t know how much of help he could be to the Captain. Benzai was very anxious to know what method Munakata Reisi had used to catch Tamada.

“I figured out the problem. As such, Daiki-Kun and I came up with a plan.”

A jolt went down Tamada’s body(2). Captain Munakata made this statement very calmly, but yet it felt as though there was a very deep meaning behind. As he began to explain the situation, Benzai, Fuse and Tamada listented intensively.

As Munakata was in the midst of explaining Konomura’s strategy, another clansmen seemed to be very unhappy.

This unhappy clansmen was Dōmyoji Andy. As of now, there were 2 departments. The PR department and the Legal department. They were currently using the Legal department to talk about Akiyama’s case, where he had allegedly molested a high schooler. But the one in charge of the legal department was Andy. Everyday after talking with several lawyers and diplomats about Akiyama’s case, he had to collect data and information before compling a report to be handed in. However, he had absolutely despised having to write reports or doing paperwork. Because of his inital mistake, he felt that he was being punished by Captain Munakata.

Domyoji felt as though that paperwork was the most boring job ever. So he had a brilliant idea. He would take a break. As he was just going to leave, his Supervisor walked in. This supervisor was none other than Fushimi Saruhiko. Carrying a paper lantern with the Scepter 4 symbol, a slouched back and glasses, he looked like a ghost.

“Who? What? Where?” (English) Domyouji’s mind blanked out and flung his arms and he started doing weird body movements, just like performing a ritual.

“Speak Japanese, idiot. And stop dancing.”

“Ah, weren’t you in America?”

“I’ve returned.”

The impression Fushimi gave off was as though he had come back just because Domyouji could not be trusted. He looked at Domyouji and then turned to the table with documents.

“Hehe.”Domyouji shrugged and gave an awkward smile.

“Why am I unsurprised?” Fushimi approached the table. “I’ll help you.”

“What can we do? There’s so many things that have to be done. Work quicker.”

“I’m sorry Fushimi-san!” He clapped his arms and bent 90degrees. “I can’t take this anymore!” Afterwards, he made haste and ran as fast as he could. Fushimi would have never imagined that Domyoji had acutally ran away from his responsibilities. He was lost for words.

“That asshole...!”

Angrily, Fushimi hunted him down and chased him. It was simple. Domyouji could run but he couldn’t hide from Fushimi.

“If you analyze the situation, the situation is actually very simple.” Munakata said.

As Fushimi and Domyoji played cat and mouse, Munakata was still explaining the idea to Benzai, Fuse and Tamada.

“The first step. Find out the truth. You have to find where the strains are and how they live on a daily basis. Benzai, please recall. How did Konomura find out what we do daily?”

Munakata took great humor in the photos that Konomura took of them(3).He shot us from fair and used underhanded methods to access CCTV footage. As such, Munakata took the information and data from electronic devices too.

“What program did he use to access this information? It was probably stolen from other sources. The whole city could have been affected.” Munakata said.

“In other words, not just Scepter 4 but every other civilian was under surveillance. Maybe I have said it before, but when Konomura sent the message to us, he could have access to the Yushiki system as well, and all the private data of each human is now accessible and defying the rights of the public. This is our weak point.”

Benzai was actually surprised. Fuse’s mouth gaped open too. Tamada examined Captain Munakata, questioning who he really was.

“I have no rights to reveal this information to you. But human rights must be protected. The only issue now is that we keep losing out to Konomura and he’s able to reach and stop them before Scepter4 can. We need to step back and reorganize ourselves and the system.”

Benzai and Fuse didn’t know how to reply. Only Tamada understood what the Captain had meant.

“Moreover, whatever method Konomura used could have been easily been applied all across Japan.”

Tamada slyly smirked at them. Konomura had carefully studied the behaviors and characters of the strain, in order to lure them to where he wanted them to be, just like moving pieces on a chess board.

T/Ns *it was unclear of what Munakata had gone to hidaka for. Something about asking for the correct hardware along those lines. also in the previous chapter he had a vintage lamp? Seems like he has a miners hat now LOL

^^at least i think he’s chewing gum, maybe a translation error.

^^^Fuse wanted a real challenge and because he was placed on an island with basic necessities he thought he was looked down upon, unlike his colleagues that was working day and night to fight Zenichi he was made to relax, or smth like that

^^^^the direct translation would be extravagant but Benzai felt more confused or compelled as to why Munakata and Fuse arrived in a helicopter

^^^^^The last statement was to prompt Benzai to think about what he was actually doing to try to catch Tamada, like what Munakata had asked Fuse earlier.

Also they kind of repeated an earlier part where Fuse and Munakata were talking about whatever was happening on that squid boat thing

(1)”Order” probs refers to their ways or laws. (2)A chill went down his spine (3)back in chapter 1/2 where eno was looking at porn or something

#casefilesofblue #kcasefilesofblue #project #munakatareisi #fusedaiki #benzaiyuujiro

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silverfootstepswrites · 7 years ago

Text

title Runaways summary What are we even running for anymore? pairing itasaku, tobisaku, hot messes

The tip of her tongue tingled as she sat. The too-hot coffee steaming away in her grasp. Paper sleeve rough against her palms.

“This better be good,” Sakura said, letting the steam bathe her face. Her gaze swept the quiet coffee shop. Heads bent over laptops. What looked like a couple touching feet on a date. Only the occasional hiss of the espresso machine broke the peace.

“Busy night?” chuckled Rock. White teeth gleaming. His bandaged hands resting against the tabletop. Sakura eyed the swelling of his knuckles without comment. Eyes flickering back up to his face.

“What gave it away?” she answered, finally letting her frown drop. Palm against her neck, she leaned in closer. She pushed her coffee towards him.

“Ah, there she is,” Rock remarked, eyes squinting into half-moons. “You hadn’t come to train for so long. I was starting to think you were mad at me or something.” He took the coffee. Opening up the plastic lid, he blew. The black, black coffee steaming and rippling.

“I’ve been a little preoccupied... Sifu Might would have me in a headlock if he heard me say that,” she answered, leaning her elbow on the table. Rock continued to blow on the coffee. He paused for a second, smiling again.

“He would make you run laps up and down Victoria Peak,” Rock agreed. Fondness tinging his words. He made a satisfied noise as he pushed the coffee back over to her. He leaned back in his chair, watching Sakura take a tentative second sip.

“So... you know I don’t like getting involved with your problems,” Rock said, picking his words carefully. Sakura’s eyes narrowed. She put the coffee down. Lifted her chin. Searching his expression.

“Tell me.”

“Fai Tsai came to me about a week ago. Begging for me to hide him,” Rock said. And then he added, “Said you were going to kill him if you caught him.”

“Oh,” Sakura said. She went to take another sip of her coffee. Rock leaned forward. Hand grabbing her wrist before she could touch the cup again. She had almost forgotten how fast he could be.

“Are you?” demanded Rock.

Sakura locked eyes with him.

“Do you believe Fai Tsai?” she asked him. Rock swallowed. His adam’s apple bobbing.

“I’m asking you, Jing-Mei,” Rock insisted. But Sakura smirked.

“You already know that it’s true. Why bother asking me, Rock?” she sighed, pulling free from his grip. She took another sip of her coffee, eyes wandering again. Rock bent his head, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Are you hiding him?” Sakura then asked.

Rock shook his head. “By the time I reached back out to him, he was gone.”

Sakura got to her feet. The metal legs of her chair screeching against the tile. She fluffed her fingers through her hair. The humidity hadn’t been kind to it since she had returned to Hong Kong. And all the while, Rock stared up at her. His eyes dark and sad. She could see the disappointment as clear as day. She was used to that by now.

“What would Sifu say?” he asked. His voice so quiet, she barely heard it.

For a moment, she really did consider it. That broad smile. His ridiculous bowl cut. His inspirational yet rambling speeches about harnessing the energies of youth. And then she remembered his blood painting the pavement. Gurgling out of his mouth. Kabuto standing at the top of the building, staring down at the mess below. His hands shaking as she grabbed him by the front of the shirt.

“I didn’t mean to! It was an accident!” he blubbered over and over again.

The smell of incense at Sifu’s funeral. The warmth of his hand as he clapped her on the shoulder. How he would point at the stars and name them randomly. Laughing from his stomach when she doubted him for the millionth time.

“It doesn’t matter if it was an accident! He’s dead because of YOU,” she remembered screaming. Pummeling him with her fists. Sobbing as she fell to her knees. Kabuto’s blood smearing over her knuckles. His tears and blood mixing down his cheekbone.

“Sifu can’t say anything because he’s dead, Rock. You should know that since you were at his funeral too,” Sakura finally uttered. She reached out, ruffled his black hair. He didn’t say anything to her as she walked out of the cafe. Into the light mist of rain that had begun to coat the city.

Tobirama called late that night. As she stood on the roof of one of the many buildings she owned. She couldn’t even remember when she had bought this one. She could see a shadow shift in one of the windows across the street. She waved. Sai grumbled about being spotted so easily again through the earpiece. And Zabuza angled the umbrella so that the scattered rain wouldn’t drip onto her shoes.

“Aunt Cheng wouldn’t spot you if you weren’t so shit at hiding,” Zabuza muttered in return.

“Boys,” Sakura sighed.

“Sorry,” they said in unison. She could see Sai duck behind the tripod set up in the window. She raised her binoculars to her eyes. Staring over the edge of the building, down into a narrow alley a couple buildings over. The night vision setting tinged everything green. Someone stood hunched behind a dumpster, glancing from his phone to the quiet streets.

“He’s late,” Sakura remarked. She lowered the binoculars and handed them to Zabuza. He took a look too.

“Red Eyes Chiu is always late because he’s always hungover,” Sai remarked.

“No. The guy’s clean. He says it’s because he never gets enough sleep,” Tenten corrected him.

“Smart dealers never dip into their stash. It’s the only way to keep a level head,” Sakura agreed.

“What if he doesn’t show, Aunt Cheng? We’re just going off of rumors that Red Eyes was spotted doing business around here,” Zabuza asked, returning the binoculars. Sakura glanced at him. He held her gaze.

“I wouldn’t call the observations of some junkies the most reliable source,” he added. And Sakura nodded.

“This could be a bust. But Red Eyes being missing is putting a lot of stress on the 24K. Tobirama and Kabuto are pissy enough as is without being short a dealer,” Sakura stated. She heard Tenten and Sai snicker together in agreement. And then she added, “The faster we figure this out, the better for all of us. I’m not waiting until the HKPD finds him floating in Victoria Harbor.”

The earpieces fell silent. Sakura reached into her coat for her lighter. As she stood burning her last cigarette in the box, her phone lit up.

Zabuza’s eyes slid across the screen. His eyebrow rose.

“Maybe he’s calling to say that he’s killed some puppies,” he remarked. Sakura smacked him in the shoulder. He didn’t even flinch. She clicked her tongue as she answered.

“Wei?”

“Jing-Meiii,” he drawled.

Sakura let out a heavy sigh. She lowered the phone, pressing it to her shoulder.

“Go get my car,” she whispered to Zabuza. He handed her the umbrella before he ran off in the rain. His wet shoes slapping down the concrete stairs. She lifted the phone back to her ear. Wedged it between her cheek and shoulder.

“Where are you?” she demanded.

She peered through the binoculars. Someone appeared at the other end of the alley. Her eyes flew to the window across the street.

“He’s taking pictures, Boss,” Tenten buzzed into her ear before she could say anything to them.

“Victor...Victor Ho’s...” Tobirama slurred into her other ear.

“Victor Ho’s bar, huh? It’s rare for you to be so shitfaced. Something good happen?” Sakura queried, keeping her tone light.

There was a long pause on the other end. She could still hear the faint voices and music in the background. And then she heard him gulp something down. The sound of a glass hitting the counter hard.

“It’s... that day, you know,” Tobirama said.

It took a moment for the pieces to come together. Mid-December. The smile slipped off her face.

“...M’hou yi si. I didn’t realize,” she apologized.

She watched the men in the alley. One opened up a duffel bag. The other revealed the contents of a briefcase. The binoculars let her see the neat stacks of cash lined up inside. One of the men grabbed one of the stacks of cash. And then another. He began gesticulating wildly with the money, shoving his companion in the chest.

“Ah. Looks like someone’s short on cash,” Tenten observed.

“Or maybe he hid something in the briefcase to make it look like there was more money,” Sai suggested.

And then Tenten hissed “diu” when gunfire peppered the air.

“Boss,” Zabuza said into her earpiece.

Sakura turned away from the alley in time to see her car pull up out front. She hurried down the stairs back into the building, hand gripping the metal railing. And she could hear Tobirama breathing on the other side as she climbed down and down- all the way to the ground floor. Her heels echoing back twice against the concrete floors and walls.

“Mei,” Tobirama called.

Sakura stopped. Jaw clenching. And then she kept walking. Straight out of the building. Zabuza got out of driver’s seat. He took the umbrella from her, holding it over her as she climbed in.

“Watch over things for me tonight,” Sakura said. Zabuza nodded before he shut the door for her.

“Mei,” Tobirama called again. Softer, this time.

“...Don’t call me that,” sighed Sakura. She leaned back. Head resting against the leather seat. The engine purring softly beneath her. She drew in a deep breath as she shifted the car into gear.

“Stay where you are,” Sakura told him. She hung up before she pulled the car out onto the street.

When she showed up at the bar several minutes later, Tobirama sat slumped. Cheek against the top of the bar. Silver rings gleaming in the low light. Victor nodded at her as she walked in. The haze of cigar smoke and the stink of beer clogged her nose.

“Need help, Aunt Cheng?” one of the patrons asked her.

Sakura didn’t respond as she pulled Tobirama’s arm over her shoulder.

“Get up, you idiot,” she grumbled as she hauled him to his feet. Tobirama stumbled, but he came along. Eyes squinting half-open. She managed drag him all the way to her car. Shoving his body into the passenger seat. And just because the sensor would beep the whole ride, she buckled his seatbelt too. Shoving his heavy arm out of the way. As she settled into the driver’s seat, she saw that his eyes were closed.

“Drunk old man,” she muttered as she started the car.

“...’m not old,” he mumbled in return.

“Shut up,” Sakura snapped as she pulled onto the highway.

She kept her eyes focused on the road. Both hands clenching the steering wheel. The ruby on her pointer finger caught the light every once in awhile. Sending little twinkles into the corner of her eye. She exhaled through her nostrils.

“It’s been another year, huh?” she said after a while. Construction on one side of the road slowed things down. She waited to merge into traffic.

“Yeah,” Tobirama sighed.

“You told me once... a long time ago... he was your younger brother?” she then asked. Keeping her gaze far from him. She heard him rub his hand across his face.

“...How old was he?” Sakura queried.

“17.”

She had glimpsed a photo a few times. In the corner of Hashirama’s office. An old, wooden frame. Four brothers standing shoulder-to-shoulder.

Kawarama had been the eldest Senju brother. But he had been known better as Scarface. Charismatic and strong. He had been gathering a small following in Kennedy Town when he was stabbed to death in front of a nightclub by jealous rivals. Hashirama had told her the story once, his face like granite. He and Tobirama had been just teenagers when he had died. And he never said so, but Sakura suspected that Kawarama’s death had been what had pushed Hashirama and Tobirama into this life too.

Hashirama refused to talk about Itama, though. His eyes going icy at the mere mention of that name.

She remembered Tobirama spilling the details one blustery night. Many years ago. When the ink from her koi tattoo was still healing. His breath reeking of whiskey just like this.

Tobirama put his feet up on the coffee table. Sakura sat on the other end of the sofa, staring down into her own glass.

“Is this the whiskey I bought you?” she suddenly demanded. She reached for the bottle to squint at the dusty label.

“It is!” she laughed. And as she collapsed back on the sofa, a hiss slipped out between her teeth. She sat back up, glaring at the sofa. Tobirama eyed her without comment. He leaned over to refill her glass, pushed it into her hands.

“It’s going to be sore for at least another week. Better suck it up,” he told her. Sakura made a face at him even as she took another sip.

“I’m a Red Pole too now. Don’t talk to me like I’m a kid,” she growled. Tobirama raised his hands in defeat.

“Yeah, yeah, Madam Red Pole. Like we shit gold or something,” drawled Tobirama. And then he smirked. And the expression was so rare that Sakura found herself staring a little too long. He caught her, and the stare morphed back into a frown.

“What?” he demanded. Sakura scowled back.

“You know, you always go around looking like you smell shit. Would it kill you to smile a little?” she criticized. And for some odd reason, he snorted.

“You sound like my little brother,” remarked Tobirama. Something in her voice stopped Sakura from being snarky. This was the first time Tobirama had ever brought him up before. She leaned forward a little, both hands around her glass.

“I didn’t know you had a little brother,” she said, cautious. Watching his face to gauge his reaction. She was getting better at that. Reading those subtle shifts in his stony expressions.

Tobirama closed his eyes. Eyebrows relaxing.

“Itama was always such a clumsy kid. Goh go was always scolding him,” Tobirama recalled, head lolling back. His cheeks and ears a little red.

Sakura bit her tongue. She didn’t want to shatter this strange moment. But she was dying to know. And like he could read her mind, Tobirama opened his eyes.

“The police shot him right in front of me. Because they mixed him up with someone else. They shot a kid,” he said. His voice startlingly clear.

And then, Tobirama sniffed. He rubbed at his face, turning away. But not fast enough. She glimpsed the tear glittering its way down his cheek.

Sakura set her glass down on the coffee table. When she closed her fingers around his, he resisted for a moment. Then let her set it aside too.

She crawled into his lap. Hands smoothing over his cheeks. Stubble prickling against her palms. The stink of booze washing over her as he exhaled. She stared into those red-rimmed eyes. At all the hurt pooling deep in that gaze.

Sakura kissed him. Pulling his hands to set them on her waist. She pulled the tie out of her hair, letting it spill over them. The whiskey numbing her lips as she kissed him again. The tips of her fingers fuzzy. And then the slide of his fingers up her back. Her flinching as they grazed the edge of her healing tattoo. The black koi with that unblinking eye.

The rest of that night was a little hazy. What she could remember with certainty was the way his fingers tightened on her thighs. The tired creak of the bed that punctuated each of their movements. And how she woke early in the morning, before even the sun had risen. Throat dry and mouth even drier as she got up to find her clothes.

“I called you a taxi,” he told her. His expression flat again as he watched her pull on her jeans. The ugly bruises on her legs disappearing beneath the denim.

“Thanks,” she replied. She buttoned up her shirt. Straightening her collar and the cuffs.

“...Jing-Mei,” Tobirama said. And she finally stopped looking for her purse and looked at him instead. She smiled with her mouth.

“Don’t look at me like that. You didn’t do anything wrong,” she told him. And then she spotted her purse in the corner. She slung it over her shoulder, peeking inside to check for all her belongings. She looked at him again.

“I have a headache already. Maybe the next time I buy you a gift, I’ll get you wine instead,” Sakura said. Tobirama frowned.

“I don’t like wine, Jing-Mei.”

“I don’t care.”

Sakura dropped Tobirama onto his bed. Huffing, she sat down at the foot of the mattress. Rubbing at her shoulder. He was a lot heavier than he looked.

“You asshole. I’m too old for this shit. Next time I’ll just dump you in the nearest alley,” she threatened. But there was no response. She wondered if he had fallen asleep. When she twisted around to check, she saw that his eyes were wide open. He lay on his side, just staring.

“Are you going to throw up?” she asked.

“Maybe later,” he answered.

Sakura got up. Straightening her shirt as she moved to check her hair in the mirror.

“You know, have you ever thought about talking to Hashirama about this? It was his brother too,” Sakura suggested. She fixed her part. Brushed a stray eyelash away. In the mirror, she could see Tobirama close his eyes, shaking his head.

“You know goh go. He doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t want to think about him.”

“Hm... I wonder,” Sakura responded.

And when she turned, Tobirama kept his eyes closed. But she knew he wasn’t sleeping. Not with his face pinched up like that. Scowling. He was listening.

“Hashirama probably is thinking about it. I think that’s probably why he went out and made his own family. And probably why he tries so hard to talk to his kid, even if she hates him,” she pointed out. She turned the lights out as she walked out of the room. When she closed the door of the apartment behind her, she thought she heard Tobirama running to the bathroom to vomit.

Tenten called her as she got off the elevator. Sakura stepped into the lobby, squinting against the absurd chandelier dangling from the ceiling.

“So, it was Red Eyes. We picked him up and brought him to the hospital. He’s shot in the stomach pretty bad but doesn’t seem like he’ll die,” she reported. Sakura could hear the chatter of voices and ringing phones in the background.

“What about the other guy?” Sakura questioned. She walked to the corner, to where she had illegally parked her car. There was a cop trying to print her a ticket. But when he saw her pink hair, his eyes went wide. He shredded up the ticket and stuffed it into his pocket. He bowed before he scrambled to get back into his own vehicle.

“We have him too. He’s in surgery right now. Hopefully he won’t die and we can get something out of him too,” Tenten told her.

“Good. Keep me updated. I want guards at their doors. I want eyes and ears on every entrance to that hospital,” Sakura instructed.

“You got it, Boss,” Tenten said before she hung up.

Sakura sat in her car. Staring straight ahead. It had stopped raining at some point as she dragged Tobirama into his apartment. The windshield was still covered in moisture. Sirens wailed in the distance. Even at this late hour, there were still people on the streets. Stumbling in and out of clubs and bars. Their glittering clothes askew. Raucous laughter filling the air.

Sakura watched them all. Suddenly feeling so exhausted as their lives intersected for that one moment.

She called Itachi.

The clock on her dashboard read 2:22 am.

It was unsurprising when he didn’t answer. It was past 3 in the morning in Tokyo. No sane person would still be awake. Tossing her phone aside, she started the car and began the drive home.

As she pulled into the parking garage below her building, her phone rang. ‘Kumicho’ flashed across the car console.

“Hello?”

“Sorry. I was asleep,” Itachi said. His voice still scratchy. And then he asked, “Sakura?”

She blinked a few times. The corners of her eyes stinging.

“Itachi.”

“Yes?”

“What do you like about me?” she demanded.

There was a pause.

“Well… off the top of my head, right now? Probably your need to call me at 3 in the morning and ask me what I like about you,” he replied after some thought.

“I’m serious,” she snapped. He chuckled.

“So am I. You’re thinking about me. At 3 am. I’m happy.”

Sakura didn’t know what to say in response. She glared down at the steering wheel.

“Do you miss me?” he then asked her.

“No,” she retorted. Voice flat.

“You do…” Itachi said, sounding a little amazed. Sakura considered breaking her phone just so she wouldn’t have to endure the rest of this humiliating conversation. She didn’t even understand why she had called him in the first place. But her hand stilled when she heard his next words.

“I miss you too.”

Sakura leaned forward, forehead against the steering wheel. She stared at her phone sitting in her lap.

“You sound tired. Get some sleep, Sakura. I’ll call you later,” Itachi promised. Sakura closed her eyes.

“You will?” she heard herself say. Sounding like some little kid. And she didn’t really care anymore that she did.

“I will,” he replied.

#eastern suns #writing #itasaku #triad!sakura x yakuza!itachi #tobisaku #pls tobirama stop hurting us all #you lil shit #but also itachi you lil shit #triad!au

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sanderssides-fics · 7 years ago

Text

A special haven (CHAPTER 1)

Ship: analogical Plot: anxiety is an ever-returning mental health patient; Logan is his nurse. Warnings: mentions of suicide, self harm, drugs, and alcohol. A/N: guys I promise this is generally sweet.

@analogically-prinxiety @the-prince-and-the-emo @the-sanders-sides @softlogic @dan-yuna @polysandershell (dunno if you'd like to be tagged in my stupid writing but saw you answer an Anon about others being able to tag you in stuff so yeah uh I'll shut up now haha) ________1________

Anxiety winced as the doctor fixed his iv into his arm. “This is your third time here this month” she said concerned, Doctor Alice had been 1 of 2 doctors that came to him, the other was her sister Doctor Emelia but she was at her wedding.

“I know, things just aren’t the best” Anxiety spoke in a quiet voice, looking anywhere but at Dr.Alice.

“Well I know you won’t open up to me about any of that, I’m guessing you want your usual” Dr.Alice had a teasing tone in her smooth voice, she tucked her pen behind her ear and her blonde phone cord curls covered it seconds later. Anxiety just nodded with a small blush, She left a minute later and Anxiety looked around the familiar room. He just start paying rent he was here so often, room 17, floor 2, East wing. The only room on the floor without a window, Anxiety had requested he moved out of his windowed room he was first put in when he first came here. The window was too bright compared to his dark life.

“Good morrow Anxiety” the sweet, buttery smooth voice of his favourite and only nurse filled Anxiety’s depressed ears. Anxiety perked up a little bit as nurse Logan sat on the edge of the bed, just a small ‘hello’ smile. “Third time this month, first was from a major attack, 2nd was an alcohol poisoning due to…”

“My brother um outed me to the whole school” Anxiety whimpered nervously, Logan was very familiar with Anxiety’s sexuality as Anxiety came out to him on accident while under anesthesia intoxication. Logan was a venting system for Anxiety’s issues and he was okay with that because it was his job and honestly, Anxiety was a tolerable person.

“What’d you do about that?” Logan asked, tapping a pen against his plump lips, Anx was ditracted by the motion for a minute before he swallowed and spoke.

“Before or after what everyone else did?”

Logan frowned “both” He leant back, allowing Anxiety time to speak when he felt strong enough. Anxiety explained that his brother outed him to Roman’s friends, whom all proceeded to call him varying slurs and push him around, mock-flirting with him was the worse because Anxiety fell for the first Flirt. Anxiety locked himself away for all weekend after that, when he had to go to school he was beaten and made fun of all day. At the end he drowned his agony in vodka and some ibuprofen. He was back in the hospital 2 days later because his dad found him with half a bottle of gin down his throat and the other half in the kitchen sink.

Anxiety felt safe around Logan, he felt pleasant. Anxiety knew he had quite the infatuation on Logan but he’d be a fool to think it was returned.

“Roman isn’t making home a safe environment then.” Logan said referencing the time Anxiety had said that Roman was a safe person.

“Not anymore, not since Dad died” Anxiety gave in to Logan quick as always. He always gave in to Logan’s questions, he vented almost everything to Logan because he was trust worthy in Anxiety’s eyes.

“Your family is hurting you more than supporting you. Anxiety, I think you need to move into our group home. It’s much safer and it’s accepting of all sexualities, genders, and ethnicity.” Logan spoke, eyeing Anxiety carefully. This was the third time Logan asked him to move into the hospitals back building.

“No. I’m okay, I’ll live at home” Anxiety said flatly.

“But for how long, Anxiety?” Logan asked as he stood up walking over to Anxiety’s side.

“Long enough”

So it continued, Anxiety vented and made Logan discuss himself too for the 4 more hours he was there. Then Anxiety was instructed to go home, he changed into his usual sweater, Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge t-shirt, ripped black skinny jeans, and shoes. Logan handed him a card for the home. No doctors, no nurses, just a caretaker for everyone. Logan noticed Anxiety’s new emotion as he stared at the card. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re just trying to get rid of me” Anxiety threw the card down and ran out of the hospital. Logan sighed, he’d never do such a thing. He hated admitting it but he was falling for his recurring patient.

4 days later Anxiety was in ER and being treated for 3 broken ribs and a punctured lung. He was soon transferred to his room and was greeted by Logan 10 minutes later. The sight of Anxiety broke Logan’s heart. He was coated in bruises, cuts, and his chest was thickly bound in tensor bandage.

“Hey Lo! God you’re hot” Anxiety spoke in a little bit of a low voice. Logan chuckled slightly.

“Why thank you Anxiety” Logan smirked “What pain meds did they put you on?” Logan asked suspiciously. Anxiety always held these kind of thoughts inside.

“Morphine I think, why does it matter? All I know is that I’m feeling it, there’s something I’d rather be feeling though. Your lips and my lips need to meet, cause they’re a match.” Anxiety practically slurred, Logan just laughed and sat in a chair next to him.

“Why are you here today Anxiety?” Logan asked with his notebook half full with Anxiety’s history here, another notebook of it at home.

“Darren, Roman, and Josh beat me up when I got home last night. Hit me with bats and boots. They kept hitting even after I stopped fighting back.” Anxiety spoke “I tasted blood, I couldn’t breathe very well and my head hurt a lot” Anxiety finished with a small whimper. Logan frowned and stood, hugging his patient gently. Anxiety actually hugged back best he could.

“Anxiety do you want to talk to the police and press charges on them?” Logan asked and Anxiety shook his head No, the medicine making him sleepy. Logan told him to rest and so Anxiety did, but only after complimenting Logan again but this time-

“You’re so smart, I’m sorry I’m a pain and refuse to listen to your advice when I’m sober” Anxiety had said and Logan just smiled. He took his notebook and dimmed the lights before exiting the room, closing the door.

“You’re so smitten for him” Logan jumped and spun around, Dr.Levon next to him. The male doctor with striking genetic-deformed-yellow irises smirked at him, a foot and a half taller.

“Hush Dr.Levon” Logan groaned.

“You know I’m right, you stare at that boy with so much love and care. You seem him hurt and your heart breaks, you’re sad whether he’s in the hospital or not because if he’s not here you don’t see him but if he is here it’s because something is wrong.” Dr.Levon deciphered.

“Don’t you have a book to write?” Logan asked a little frustrated. Dr.Levon left with raised arms in defence. Logan sighed and went to the back building to prepare Anxiety his own quarters, they only had 5 people in the building other than the caretaker so everyone having their own room wasn’t a big deal. Logan didn’t care what Anxiety had to say any more, he was safer in this house than at home with his brother and as a trained medical treatment nurse he could say what was safe for one’s health.

Anxiety was awake again 5 hours later. “Where’s Nurse Logan?” Anxiety asked a female nurse who entered to check his ribs compared to his x-rays.

“He’s gone home, his shift ended 2 hours ago” she said with a bittersweet voice “You should stay away from him actually he is wasting his time with you” she growled “You keep coming back, either you are really stupid or you’re just lovestruck and this is the only way you know how to see him” she jammed an IV in Anxiety’s arm hard causing him to scream out and blood to spurt out. “Oh crap I can’t lose my job!” She ran out of the room and Dr.Alice came in.

“Anxiety darling, calm down.” She spoke slowly and fixed the IV “What happened?”

“Sh-she called me stupid, asked if why I was always here is because I like Logan and said for me to stay away from him” Anxiety whimpered, “Then she stabbed my arm with the IV and worried about losing her job”

“That’s Logan’s ex girlfriend, he realised he didn’t like tits soon after getting together with her. Weird I know, she blames you though because they got together 2 days before you showed up the first time and he broke up with her that day.” Dr.Alice drug on and on about the stupidity of the girl. All anxiety knew was the IV was putting him to sleep and soon he was half concious and his bed was being moved. He felt the elevator, the doors open, the cool spring nighttime air, and then the familiar smell of cinnamon of the back building spice incense. He felt himself be left there for a few minutes before moved again to a room that smelt like Logan, he questioned it before recognizing a feeling on his chest. The tie Logan wore every once in awhile had become Anxiety’s Attack-grip. He needed something to hold on to during his attacks and Logan had generously offered his tie. A few minutes later he fully passed out.

A few hours later Anxiety woke up and noticed his IV had been taken away. Next he noticed where he was and got scared. The room held posters, a dresser, a closet, the bed he was on, and best of all only one window which was boarded up. The only light came from a leather-scented candle, the clock next to it ticked past 4. 4 what? Am or Pm?

Anxiety staggered out of the bed, half falling with his legs tangled in Satin sheets. Logan had betrayed his request and put him in the group home. Anxiety crawled on his hands and knees, it was easiest on his chest and lung, his hands bobbed over carpet, his knees squished the crocheted wasteland of greys and blues.

“Someone’s up early” Anxiety heard a voice and turned towards the door, A skinny boy stood there. No older than 10. He had thick brown hair and looked strong but deceiving. “The floor is not very comfortable” the boy helped Anxiety back on the bed. “You should get more sleep, don’t tell Vander I was up, he’d kill me” the boy went back out of the room and nd closed the door, for some reason… Anxiety listened, with Logan’s tie held tightly in his hand he drifted off.

Anxiety was woken up around 8 by the same boy. “Morning!” He giggled and then ran away from Anxiety, out the door, and down some stairs. Anxiety was so confused, but mainly he felt a strange ping of happiness at the boys energy.

#logan sanders #anxiety sanders #sanders sides #sanders fic #analogical #hospital #love

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