#but it's still yet another death in the family within such a short period of time.

[orcelito]

Having lost my cat, my uncle, my great grandmother, my grandma's best friend (& one of the people who helped raise me), AND my dad all within the span of 9 months,

I have little sympathy for people who use deaths as an excuse to be an asshole. I get it, it sucks. Get the fuck over it. Your grief is not an excuse to treat others like shit. What the fuck.

[noirandchocolate]

I mentioned my Master Kohga's father in tags on another post, so now this post is my headcanons about how succession to the position of Master works in the Yiga Clan.

The short answer is, it's inherited, but it isn't automatic/doesn't have to be.

The Clan is not a monarchy (ewww, they would say!), and while they do have great "allegiance to their Master" according to Creating a Champion, the Master isn't thought of as a ruler. (I also do not hc that the Yiga are a "cult," and mine are certainly not a cult where they worship Master Kohga (either the specific guy in AoC/BotW/TotK or the "Master" as a concept/post held by many.)) They absolutely do not believe in a divine right to rule (that's stupid annoying Hylian nonsense and one of the things they rebelled against in the first place), and they also don't think that simply because a person is the scion of the particular bloodline/family that currently holds the Master position, they must necessarily be the best candidate for the job. I dunno, I just really don't think that a group that formed in opposition to an oppressive monarchy that betrayed them would keep a family in power forever in a similar monarchical system just because they're that family, or would let someone keep the position indefinitely if that person was genuinely horrifyingly bad at the job.

That said, the Master also can't be said to truly be a "first among equals" or "democratic"-type position. The Clan does treat its Masters special. They follow them, they protect them especially, they'll do their bidding loyally according to each leader's personal style (some like to be pampered--*coughcurrentKohgacough*--while others are more austere--currentKohga's father's mother's father for example). A Master Kohga expects orders to be followed. They ("Master" is a gender-neutral term and position) have a Right Hand and certainly take advice from others within the Clan, but ultimately they hold the final say on things, with all the power and all the responsibility that entails. Basically, what the Master says, goes.

Until it doesn't.

But I'm getting ahead of myself, ha! Better go back to the "usually inherited, but isn't automatic" part, because this post is about succession headcanons!

So, there typically will be a presumptive "heir" to the position and name of Master Kohga, and it is usually the current Master's first child. However, a subsequent kiddo might distinguish themself in a leadership/martial prowess/etc.kind of way and surpass their sibling into the heirship. If the Master doesn't have a child yet, the presumptive heir might be a sibling or other close relation. "Child" includes adopted kids, too, if that isn't obvious. Yiga children are raised communally, and it's considered a huge honor (/understatement of the century) if the Master thinks your kid is amazing enough to officially adopt and train to take over. A Master may also consider their Right Hand their heir. Nevertheless, traditionally it's the Master's first child, and barring one of these more unusual circumstances (and others I could go on listing--keep in mind the Clan has existed for 10,000 years), that's who'll be getting raised and trained up to take the position eventually.

Still, unlike with Hyrule's monarchy (and arguably most Earth monarchies), the Master position doesn't immediately pass to the heir upon the previous Master's death. As I said, there isn't some magical divine spark or quality that the Yiga believe transfers from one Master to the next. Instead, there is an interim period during which the Clan prepares for and holds funerary rites for the old Master and the heir...undertakes several trials and rituals to prove their worthiness for the position.

These include multiple types of challenges from hardcore meditation (as in, no food or water, very ascetic like the old Sheikah monks trained), to arcane skill demonstrations, to a trek up through the Highlands to retrieve a hidden object (somewhat similar to Blademaster candidates' journey to place bananas at the frog statues), to successfully leading a stealth raid on a Gerudo or Hylian settlement, to...well the big showy one is slaying a Molduga solo. That's the final test, a literal and symbolic showing that the heir is capable of protecting the Clan from even the biggest of natural threats. So, with all of that, it's not completely a given that the heir will succeed at becoming Master! Most do. They're raised for it, as I said. But they're not just handed the leadership role because they're a very special baby, like Hylian monarchs and nobles are. They earn it. Ultimately, what all of the tests show is that the heir is willing to go to great lengths of various types for the Clan--the underlying message beyond the shows of strength, fortitude and skill is "I do this because I am dedicated to all of you."

Once all those trials are complete, the now fully-realized heir is tattooed with a giant, red Inverted Eye on their back. (The upper "teardrop" starts at the base of the neck and from there the Eye spreads across the shoulders and back--it's big. And while most Yiga will have the Eye tattooed somewhere on their person, only the Master can have it, or any other tattoo for that matter, in red.) Their new mask is crafted, and unlike all other Yiga masks that are purely smoothed-down wood, the Master's mask has a thin overlay of bone--from the Molduga they defeated. Following that, there's an Ascension ceremony during which the title of Master and name of Kohga are officially conferred.

That's how it was with the current Master Kohga; his father was Master, he was the heir and (briefly) the Right Hand, he received all kinds of special training starting in childhood in addition to the usual martial arts stuff most Yiga learn, he completed all the trials, and he ascended to the position upon his dad's death just as expected. He "inherited the name Kohga" as stated in Creating a Champion, just like his father, grandmother, great-grandfather, and every other Master back to the very first Chief.*

Anyway, next for the "what the Master says goes until it doesn't" part I was cryptic about at the start of the post. You might think the kind of system I've described where the "heir" isn't always a Master's first child and that first child can be replaced etc., would cause just as much resentment and strife as a monarchy (I mean think of how many kings assassinated heirs to take their places irl). But again, the Clan is not a monarchy and they in fact have a formal method for those who want to assert a claim to the Master position against the heir.

As a culture, the Clan tends to be very much about maintaining internal peace because it's them against the whole rest of the world basically. So while sure, we see individual members in the games (TotK especially) complaining and having rivalries and being a lil' bitchy, ultimately they're quite cohesive and "ride or die" with each other and the group as a whole. So since the idea is to have a Master who will take care of and lead the Clan, a first child who'd rather do something else or who's a total klutz with a weapon is in most cases unlikely to be vendetta-level mad if their parent chooses their sibling as the heir. The fact that the heir doesn't have to be the Master's child at all also takes care of situations where a Master dies and their kid is still...a kid. A sibling to the deceased Master can step in and take the position, or someone else entirely can...okay here's the procedure.

The heir and even the Master can be Challenged.

Most instances of this happening occur in the above scenario: the old Master's chosen heir is still a child, and there's a sort of stylized "challenge" where that other relative or the Right Hand or someone else the Clan would agree is better than a literal ten-year-old (or whatever) to lead, declares their intent to take the tests instead and ascend to become Master. Less frequently, it can occur where the chosen heir is of-age but can't complete the requisite tests and someone else steps forward who can.

Least frequently, because as previously stated the Clan is pretty harmonious internally and generally loves its heirs and trusts its Masters' judgment, someone can Challenge the heir by attempting to undertake the tests as well. If both succeed, they will then battle it out. Not to the death! But to the defeat.

Similarly, at any time, anyone can attempt to Challenge a Master. This is incredibly rare, even across a history of 10,000 years. The Yiga are very loyal to their Masters! I was being clickbait-y with that ominous sentence before my readmore cut! However, they have the Challenge as a failsafe procedure for when a Master is, let us say...really shit at it. Acting like an utterly abusive despot, completely shirking all responsibility, repeatedly and unnecessarily/stupidly getting a lot of Clan members killed, that kind of thing. Generally a complete failure to the spirit of being a Master. The Challenge in that case consists not only of a battle, but also of a referendum in which all Clan members (anonymously) vote. If the challenger wins, they'll still have to undertake the trials to become Master. As I said, this is like, vanishingly uncommon, especially in more recent times.

For all that they're a bunch of shadowy assassins, the Clan prefers a peaceful transition of power because that kind of cohesion keeps them safest. The current Kohga's bloodline through his father has held the Master position for 800 years (keep in mind though, Sheikah-blooded folk live a long time), and his bloodline through his mother held it for several hundred before that. Still and all, every individual Master accepted the risk of the trials and the responsibility of the position. They've all been considered special, and been adored and waited on and obeyed by their Clan, but they all...

Well, one of our dear Best Guy Master Kohga's clearest, most impacting memories from his childhood is his Nana's final words to him and his father, on her deathbed:

"Go, and be Masters, my children. They will serve you, and they will love you, if you will serve them, and love them, and lead them."

As much as Kohga is theatrical, and hugely self-confident with a moon-sized ego, and loves napping and delegating chores...even with all of that window-dressing type sillygoofy personality stuff... He does care deeply for his Clan and his allegiance to everyone in it is just as great as their allegiance to him. As we see in AoC, when things get serious he will put his life on the line for them.

Just as expected of any great Master Kohga.

And he is certainly beloved for it.

[semper-legens]

44. The Devil in the Marshalsea, by Antonia Hodgson

Owned: Yes Page count: 373 My summary: Tom Hawkins is in trouble. He owes debts he can never repay - unless he wins big at cards. Fortunately, he does! Unfortunately, he’s robbed before he can pay up, and is thrown into notorious debtor’s gaol the Marshalsea. With no money and no prospects, Tom is looking at a short life...until a notorious villain helps him get on his feet. A man who is suspected of murdering his former cellmate. With his life and freedom on the line, can Tom find out the culprit for this crime before he winds up yet another corpse? My rating: 4/5 My commentary:

Time to start reading this series the right way round! I began my reading of Tom Hawkins' misadventures with The Silver Collar, which turned out to be the fourth book in the series. But I liked it a lot, so I resolved to seek out the rest of them and read them the right way round. Which I've done! This first book details lovable rogue Tom Hawkins being thrown into debtor's prison, then being tasked with solving a murder that had recently occurred to earn his release. He's lodged with Samuel Fleet, a sinister character who pays his way to stop him being thrown to the Common Side, whose friendship Tom eventually finds. It was a fun read, and I'm so glad I came back to this series!

Tom Hawkins is a fun protagonist. He's best described as a rogue, the kind of morally edgy scoundrel who got caught up in a criminal underworld, decided he liked it there, and stayed. But he's not the edgy antihero sort - while he mentions frequenting brothels he treats the women he encounters as equals, he's no misogynist. He's still angered by injustice and seeking that wrongs are righted, even if his own moral compass is a little askew. He's furious on behalf of a boy flogged to death in the prison courtyard, and gives some of his precious remaining money to his brother so he can be with him as he dies. This tendency gets him into trouble often. It's more harm than it's worth, but he's committed to seeing it through and finding the truth. I also like how he makes poor judgement calls and trusts the wrong people initially - it shows that he's not perfect, he's just a regular person trying his best to get by.

The Marshalsea was a real prison, and the description of the conditions therein within this book are historically-attested for the time period. And terrible. There were two sides - the Master's Side, where the gentlemen who could still pay for better rooms and food and such were lodged, and the Common Side, where everyone else was thrown together to rot. The governor was a cruel man who beat and tormented the prisoners, including the use of torture implements like thumbscrews. The whole thing was just a money-making racket - the prisoners had little hope of paying off their debts from within prison walls when they still had to pay for their bed and board. Typical for attitudes of the 18th century. Tom only spends a few days in there and comes out with horrible trauma, though to be fair his experience was not exactly typical.

Speaking of, let's talk about the actual plot! A former inmate died in suspicious circumstances, and Tom has to find out what really happened or face punishment - first being thrown to the Common Side, then outright death. This gives a ticking clock to the investigation, and makes Tom's actions more and more desperate as he races through his search to find out what really happened. The mystery here is really compelling, with a lot of twists and turns to keep you guessing. And the setting of the Marshalsea allows for a wide cast of characters who all have some secrets to keep. It kept me gripped through the whole book, and I'm looking forward to the next one!

Next up, two strange girls with a family history of magic.

[elizaellwrites]

Character Bio: Cameron

As Seen on my OC Library (In Works)

During a vacation, Cameron and his younger sister Jaleya were separated from their family on the night of the attack. Left alone in the center of Wotakour's capital city of Nelenai, they were caught in the center of the fray as the enemy attacked. A few weeks shy of seven years old, he would have the first experience of his family's anomaly. It had been in his family for generations, so long that no one remembered who it originated with, but being able to sense life and death was more of a curse than a gift that night. Cameron watched from the shadows, as a dark Wotakouran warrior cut through her own people, her image burned into his memory. Convinced he was going to die as she got closer, he pulled Jaleya close, but instead, the woman only looked him over, sparing their lives that night. Overwhelmed by what was unfolding, as well as the pain sweeping through his body, he collapsed, clutching his toddler sister to his chest. When he awoke, his mother was holding them and they were on a strange new world he had never seen before. They were among a small group of Wotakourans who fled to Earth together, some of the few from outside Caldesaria. His father was presumed dead that night.

Cameron was sick for years following the attack, his senses oversensitized and his memories making him relive that night over and over again. His sister was unaffected due to her young age, as the ability had not yet awakened in her. Nearly bedbound, he began to read, dedicating his time to learning as much as he could while he couldn't do much else. He found a particular interest in language and linguistics, and he sought to learn not only Hecathian languages but human as well. He also invested his time in learning self-discipline to manage his pain and truly start living his life. During this time, his mother had decided to move to the newly established academy to gain support for Cameron.

When he was thirteen, he decided to enter the traditional training period, feeling he was ready. Trained by his mother, a former elite warrior, he found strength and confidence. Though he still struggled occasionally, his body became more reliable, and he dedicated as much of himself to his physical training as he did to his mind. After training for two years, he joined the observance system where he would truly connect with others his own age for the first time as more young people joined.

Cameron settled into his new life, slowly mastering his skills and gaining the reputation of a talented and honorable warrior in his own right. The team changed over time, but Cameron remained; loyal to his team and his purpose there. Things had seemed fine, despite growing concern and grief over missing members within the community. The fall began with his observance leader, his friend Amber, resigning without warning. As her right hand, he was offered the leadership role, but he declined, choosing to stay in his position as second in command while Jacob took the lead. Cameron's world was then shattered on a night in October when he was called to his mother's home and told that her body had been found. She was the latest victim of a serial murderer, and his teammate Roselle was the last on that very same night.

Desperate for the perpetrator to be caught, Cameron was now alone with his team falling apart and his sister mentally scarred from having felt the death of their mother that night. Things grew worse when it was revealed that another member of his team was responsible. Betrayed and somber, Cameron would attend the short trial and execution of his former friend, and would find bittersweet solace as he felt his life fade. Things would remain grim, however, as Jaleya continued to struggle and was admitted into the academy's mental health ward as a precaution for her safety and for ongoing treatment. He visited her between his responsibilities as the temporary head of his observance as Jacob would leave the academy on a mission shortly after the trial, leaving Cameron to pick up the slack and hold what was left of them together. With the weight of his family and team on his shoulders, Cameron was about to crack, it was only a matter of time.

[teyvatdreams]

the yaksha’s wish

summary: when the strong yakshas who protected liyue begin to fall victim to their karmic debt, you decide to leave behind the ones who survived. it isn’t until 500 years later that you realize you aren’t the last yaksha alive.

pairing: xiao x yaksha!reader (kinda)

word count: 1.8k

note: basically a story that gives xiao at least a little bit of peace with what happened to the other yakshas

warnings: angst, mentions of death but nothing graphic, not a happy ending

you had a family once.

it was a long time ago, though. in a different period of time, a different liyue, it almost seemed like a different life time.

a yaksha brought to life to protect liyue from the horrid aftermath of the archon war, you never expected to feel love of any sort. you weren’t here to love, you were here to purge evil. you dedicated your life to this.

you considered your friends a found family of sorts. you were all known as the strongest yakshas and spent a considerable amount of time together. being with them made you forget about the demons you had to slay, the pain that coursed throughout your body; it all seemed to disappear. even if just for a moment, you were thankful.

having this bond, albeit short-lived, made everything hurt worse.

the fall of the strongest yaksha’s was expected, but it still felt like it happened too fast. the karmic debt you all faced everyday was wearing you down, there was no denying that. they could only hide the loss of memory and sanity for so long.

the day bonanus and manogias slain one another was the day everything changed. you had never expected your friends to turn on each other to the point of dying. even indarias was driven to madness. in such a short time, you had lost three of the people you held closest to your heart.

out of fear, you decided to depart from the remaining yakshas, alatus and bosacius. you feared that one day you would snap and hurt one of them, and it weighed heavy on your heart. alatus was the only one you spoke to about your plans.

“then where do you plan to go?” his voice is strained, almost hurt in a way. you feel a pang of guilt in your chest.

“i’m not exactly sure yet,” you sigh, sitting on the ground, looking down on liyue. such a beautiful nation, you think. i truly hope they will be okay without our protection.

alatus sits next to you. “you don’t have to leave,” he says softly. “i have faith that we will be okay.”

“you don’t know that, alatus,” you reply, voice shaking from emotion. “manogias and bonanus turned on each other, killed each other… it was so sudden, too…”

alatus is quiet.

“bosacius is already is poor health,” you point out. “do you think we’ll meet the same fate?”

“i don’t know,” alatus says. “i feel like all of my memories are still intact. i feel the same way i always have.”

you stand up again. alatus follows. “maybe i’ll return. maybe someday soon, maybe in a hundred years… maybe never.” you say. “but i hope to see you again, alatus.”

you spent the next 500 years in solitude. you would speak to the people you ran into, but most of the time, it was just you. you had found peace in your own company, spending most of your time collecting herbs to make your own medicine so the pain from the karmic debt was tolerable.

but, you always stayed close to liyue. even if it was just the outskirts of the nation, you were always close by just in case. one day you had finally decided to travel further away, planning to visit one of the neighboring nations, but you felt as if something was pulling you back to liyue. something was wrong. as fast as you could, you tried to find what was causing this horrific feeling deep inside you. eventually, you were lead to the chasm.

the millelith surrounded the area, fighting against monsters coming from deep within. your instincts kicked in, immediately joining the fight. no one questioned who you were, they were just thankful for your help.

you stopped in your tracks when you notice someone bigger than everyone in the millelith, four arms protruding from them, decorated in purple tattoos.

“bosacius?” you breathe. “bosacius!”

but he doesn’t hear you, and just keeps fighting. you shake your head to get yourself grounded.

now isn’t the time. focus on fighting these monsters.

“there’s too many! we need to retreat!” someone yells.

“we can’t! the lives of everyone in liyue are at stake. we need to fight!” someone replies.

“we still have the compass. if there’s a time it gets used, that time is now!”

“get the yaksha and the others to start the process. we need to seal these monsters away quickly,” someone says. they turn to you. “please, help me keep these monsters away from the compass.” they ask.

you nod and continue to fight.

“i shall hold the line by sealing the surface,” you hear a familiar voice say. in the corner of your eye, you see the amazing sight of the compass being used. blue light emits from the compass, and you can see the energy coming from it. bosacius stands next to it.

you can’t see what’s happening from all the light, but the monsters seem to be slowing down, and you won’t stop to look. and then, it’s quiet. the monsters have stopped. but bosacius is gone.

the mood hasn’t changed. no one cheers or congratulates their comrades for sealing the monsters away. it’s still somber.

“thank you,” a soldier thanks you. “you helped us immensely.”

“what about them?” you ask. “bosacius and the others? where have they gone?”

“bosacius…?” the solider furrows their brows. “do you mean the yaksha? is his name bosacius?”

you nod. “yes. him and i used to fight alongside each other long, long ago,” you explain. you tell the soldier your name.

“your name…” the solider sighs. “i heard bosacius talk about you. he kept calling for you and someone named alatus.”

“he also asked me where menogias was once,” another solider says.

“menogias and alatus were other yakshas we fought with,” you say. “do you… know where alatus is?”

the solider shakes his head. “no. i’m sorry.”

“and bosacius,” you add. “will he be okay?”

silence falls between you and the soldier, giving you the answer you were dreading to hear. you just nod, before walking to the seal that separated the monsters from the citizens of liyue.

“i’m sorry, bosacius,” you say. “i’m sorry i left. it seems that your memories are long gone… but i’m glad you still remembered me, even if it was for a moment. i won’t let them forget about you. i won’t let them forget about any of us,” you sigh. your chest feels heavy. what kind of feeling is this? you think. grief? or just sadness? “goodbye for now.”

you leave the chasm after that. and you don’t return.

you needed to look for alatus. you refused to believe that he was gone. if you and bosacius had survived all this time, there was a good chance alatus was still alive.

“alatus!” you shout. “alatus, can you hear me?”

a green flash of energy bursts in front of you, and alatus appears from behind it. he almost seems shocked to see that it’s actually you.

“you came back.”

you nod. “i did… i…” you try to collect your thoughts. “i had to.”

“i thought i was the only one left,” alatus admits. his voice is quiet as if he’d be shunned for thinking it. “you and bosacius have been gone for long. i didn’t know what happened to either of you.”

bosacius.

that’s right. you have to break the news of his fate to alatus.

“alatus…” you begin. “bosacius… he…” alatus’s face lights up at the mention of him. “he’s gone,” you quickly say. “monsters began to come out of the chasm, and i fought alongside him there before he was sealed away with the monsters,”

“you saw him?” alatus asks.

you nod. “he wasn’t in the best of conditions, not mentally.” you say. “someone told me he was asking for us.”

“he lost his mind before he left. i thought he died but it seems like i was wrong. perhaps he’s been residing in the chasm all of these years?” alatus suggests, more to himself than you.

“perhaps.” you agree.

“i can’t believe he managed to survive so long down there… i should have tried to find him, maybe this wouldn’t have—“

“alatus,” you interrupt him. “i will not let you put the blame on yourself. one way or another the karmic debt was going to catch up to him. it isn’t your fault this happened.”

for a moment his eyes meets yours before he quickly glances away, hesitantly nodding.

“do you plan to stay?” he asks.

“yes,” you answer. “now that we are the only ones left… i don’t see much reason in leaving again.”

from that day forward, alatus never left your side. you traveled around liyue together, usually taking refuge on the mountains. you introduced him to the medicine you had made to help ease his pain, and luckily, it worked. alatus was good at hiding the pain, but his drastic change in mood was proof that it was taking a toll on him.

you began to think that maybe it was fate that you and alatus were the last yakshas standing. maybe you were both safe after all.

what a foolish thought.

after awhile, you found yourself becoming tired much easier than before. no matter how much medicine you took, your body ached with so much pain you couldn’t move too much even if you wanted to. alatus did everything he could to help you.

there were many nights when he held you in his arms as you cried from the pain until you fell asleep. sometimes it felt unbearable, but having someone by your side made it easier.

one night, alatus helped you walk outside of the cave you were both staying in so you could see the sun set. you had spent the entire day asleep to combat the pain, but asked him if he could help you watch the sun set when you finally woke up. he helps you sit down on the grass as the sky fades into cool shades of orange and purple.

you rest your head on his shoulder, sighing. “this is the prettiest sky i’ve seen since…” you pause, trying to remember what you were seeing in your head. “there was one time, long ago, when i had fought alongside the other yakshas throughout the entire night, only finishing once the sun had risen. it was beautiful,” you say. “i remember looking at it with… someone i can’t remember the name of.”

“bonanus, right?” alatus tells you. “i remember seeing you two watching it. kind of like how we are right now.”

you nod. “right, bonanus…” how long ago had it been since she died? how long ago had it been since you and alatus decided to stay together? you couldn’t remember. “alatus, please stay with me.”

“of course. why would i leave you?” he asks.

“i just don’t want to die alone,” you admit quietly.

he doesn’t reply. he just grabs your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours.

the next morning, alatus wakes up alone.

he feels lucky that he was able to make at least one of the yakshas feel loved before they died.

he dug a grave for you. he didn’t want to, because then it would mean you were really gone. but he wanted you to have a resting place, which was something the others never got. he sat by your grave for the entire day, leaving only to find some qingxin flowers to plant on your grave so he could find it even when the dirt settled and the grass grew back. the first day of being alone again was the hardest, but he had to continue living, for you. for bosacius, for all the yakshas who perished. for the rest of his life he would never let anyone forget about any of you.

[bellafragolina]

About s/o dying giving birth, what if the child looks exactly like them?? Like a mini clone of s/o and looks like them more when the child is growing??

Would the submas twins be proud?? Woukd they be sadder?? Bittersweet feelings!

Aw, that would be so bittersweet for them

🍓🍓🍓

Ingo:

Ingo doesn't know what to do with himself. He takes your son home after your death, and just lies with the babe, a list of instructions from the nurses in his pocket. You had taken parenting classes together to prepare for parenthood, but. . . he's not prepared to parent without you

Despite his grief, he's a wonderful father, taking great care of the baby as he struggles with your funeral arrangements. The pair of them are solemn at your wake

The child grows up surrounded by love, and well informed about who you were. Ingo doesn't remarry, and he keeps a small shrine of you on the mantle. As his child grows, he finds himself comparing your portrait to the child. They look so much like you

It hurts to see your smile in them, your sparkling eyes looking up at him, your sweet face in theirs. But it also feels wonderful. It's like you're still here with him, in a way. Those heavy heart days lead to the child being smothered in love

Emmet:

Emmet can hardly get out of bed after your death. He mourns heavy and hard, and the cries of the twins in the crib right next to his bed are the only things that get him up. For a time, he doesn't eat or sleep well, but it's a short period. Elesa and Ingo remind him that he needs to stay healthy for you and for your kids.

Emmet is a doting, overprotective father. He's terrified to lose the children the way he lost you, suddenly and without warning. So for the first few years of their lives, he's hovering, waiting for something to happen so he can swoop them away. He relaxes as they get older, but not by much, because now he's seeing you in his little twin girls' faces.

They're your spitting images, it seems. Like he had no involvement at all. The tragic irony makes him laugh and cry, because he still has you within them, but you are still gone. One laughs how you did, the other has your smile. One has your sense of humor, and the other has your pranking skills. It's too much of you for Emmet, yet at the same time not enough

He tells his girls about you as they grow older and more curious. They learn about how you met, how you loved one another more than anything, and how your last gift to Emmet was blessing him with the twins he's always wanted. He's a broken man, but he holds himself together for his family, and because he knows it's what you would've wanted

🍓🍓🍓

Poor boys </3 They're good dads, even if things get rough <3

Hope you enjoyed it, love! Have a good night!

~Renee

[cyraniadebergerac]

A Minor Mystery of the Show

Obviously, there are several key mysteries of the show. But there's one minor one that could also use explanation. Yor and Yuri lost their parents when Yor was a teen and so had to take on the care of her brother. Because of the age, it's potentially connected with the war. Yet we don't hear how exactly their parents died. But a bigger mystery than that is where are any other near relations? If they had aunts or uncles or even grandparents around, they could have gone to them for help. Their absence in the story suggests they weren't around to help, but why would that be?

Theory 1: There just weren't any. Yor and Yuri's parents were the last of their respective families. A possibility due to the war and potentially due to something that I'll cover in Theory 4. It wasn't like one child was the norm at the time.

Theory 2: Yor and Yuri's parents were estranged from their families and so contact was lost. Another likely possibility, though you would hope that if they heard news of their death, then someone would still come to help the children. If it's this case, maybe we'd see a family member during the story who wants to reconcile then finds out about the deaths.

Theory 3: The Shopkeeper purposely kept any family members from coming to claim them. It would put Yor's employment under him in a darker light as him doing this would mean he purposely placed her in a position where she had to work for him in order to support herself and her brother. It would also mean though that he would have been an early part of the tragedy, perhaps even arranged fir the parents' deaths himself. But he would have to really want Yor for some reason for that to be the case. Maybe she was actually born with super strength and durability and he knew it somehow?

Theory 4: Yor and Yuri's parents were immigrants to Ostonia. Think about it. While we see Ostonians have hair ranging from golden blond (Camilla, the first girl Loid broke up with) to light brown to dark brown (Frankie, Damian), we hardly see anyone with black hair except for Yor and Yuri, except for that one co-worker of her's where the black hair and glasses seem to be marking her as the brains of Yor's coworker trio (Camilla likely being the will while the last one is the heart). On top of that, Yor, short for Yolanda, and Yuri are basically the only characters with full on Eastern European names as well as the only ones with red eyes. The rest of the cast have English to German names and regular colored eyes, fitting being in an East Germany setting. And the author said himself that he meant for Yuri and Yor to have East European names. While it could be simply to have names to fit the setting while still sticking out from the rest, it could also point to their parents not being Native Ostonians but coming from a different Eastern country. The real question would be from where then, but there's one potential place based on what time period the show's supposed to be based on.

We haven't heard much about just what the rest of the world's like. Our main countries are based around West Germany/East Germany during the Cold War, yet the reason for the divide after WWII was so the USA and the rest of the West could work to rebuild the Western half of Germany while the Soviet Union rebuilt the Eastern half with the understanding that the nation would be allowed to come back together after both sides were rebuilt. Needless to say, while the West stuck to their side of the bargain and let West Germany be it's own country, the Soviet Union didn't honor their promise with East Germany, instead building a wall and no man's zone between the two sides to keep their subjects from easily escaping into the West.

This doesn't seem to be the case within this story given that Ostonia is considered a sovereign enough nation to declare war on their own and doesn't seem to be part of a Soviet Bloc. Yet we also have talk about people escaping across the border into other countries so they can reach Westalis and a secret police for, though other than those two things, we don't see any other signs of the country being Soviet, Fascist, or Nazi. Otherwise, there would be rationing, the characters wouldn't be able to just waltz into a grocery store then waltz out as there would be items missing in the store and/or long lines as people got what they were assigned to get with only the privileged getting anything more, and some things just not working and not being repaired even for the elite (mirroring how the apartment complex the Soviet party leaders lived in didn't have a working elevator, requiring them to have to walk up several flights of stairs), and Spy Wars doesn't seem to be Ostonian propaganda like most Soviet/Fascist shows were since Loid would have been commenting about the inaccuracies. Really, from what we see Ostonia seems to be more Imperial in it's structure with some capitalist elements while Westalis may be more democratic (since we don't actually see it much and so don't know), making the whole thing feel like a post-WWI world than a post-WWII one.

If it is really meant to be post-WWII though, there is an event fron before WWII that could have a parallel in Spy x Family and so could be where Yor and Yuri's parents came from. As talked about by MatPat in his lore video on the Cooking Friends horror game and by Blue on OSP in his History of Ukraine video, Stalin ordered that all farmers had to use modern equipment, such as tractors. However, the tractors broke down and it would have taken too long to wait for them to get fixed for there to be a harvest, Ukranian farmers went back to their horses and traditional farming methods. Seeing this as obstinate disobedience of his orders, Stalin ordered that no food should be left to the Ukraines, but that it all should be forcibly taken away even in the midst of harvest and set up a barricade to trap them within. And so started the Holdomer, The Great Hunger, an event that killed 9 million Ukrainians from starvation before Stalin's rage was satisfied, more than were killed total in Hitler's Holocaust. Some people could and did manage to escape the Holdomer though, and if an event like that happened in Spy x Family's world, then that could be where Yor and Yuri's family came from and explain even more the absence of any family members. It would also make things very tragically ironic for Yuri to end up in the SSS, an organization similar to what would have been used to nearly kill all his family before.

Those are just theories though, Spy x Family theories.

Have any thoughts or comments, please feel free to share them.

[deltas-writing-corner]

No regrets

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Sukuna x reader (reader is referred to with gender neutral pronouns, but there are slight implications of them being AFAB)

Author note: At a whooping 11.5k words, it’s finally here! Thank you all for your patience as well as those who gave feedback during the initial interest check! I hope the wait was worth it and you enjoy this long piece! A bit of forewarning, this piece is rather dark, so please read the content warnings carefully and only proceed if you are comfortable doing so.

Revisions made on 3/30/2021

Warnings: Implications of noncon | abusive behavior | unhealthy obsession | death | slight gore | Please ask to tag additional content warnings that I have failed to disclose

Minors do not read/interact with this post!

Heian era

It was only a matter of time before the king of curses came to your village and slaughtered you all. It was inevitable, but the village elders were determined to hand over every last scrap of fabric and goods if it satiated the cursed being for a short while, knowing the all powerful curse was an indulgent one. Your village was a well known trading settlement, so gathering and setting aside the best of the best on the market was rather easy with all the merchants coming in and out of the town nearly every day.

Your family specialized in sword crafting, often forging or repairing swords for soldiers or aristocratic families who merely collected them as works of art. Your father taught you a bit of the craft and a few seasoned samurai humoured you and taught you some forms while they awaited repairs, but you mostly spent time helping your mother around your quaint home. Your days with them were peaceful, even with the ever looming and expected arrival of Ryomen Sukuna blanketing your people with constant fear.

The day finally came, yet all the preparations you and your people took to secure a better chance of survival still didn’t feel like it was enough as the four-armed monster of a man easily destroyed several houses with a mere flick of his hand and cut down several innocent individuals who fled last minute due to their anxiety getting the better of them. He was at least willing to see all that was being offered to him when it was made clear your people were not going down without trying their luck, but that sadistic smile of his was all the proof everyone needed to know that their careful efforts meant nothing.

Your village elders remained determined, and to the shock of you and your parents, they grabbed you and offered you up as one final offering. You were young, the youngest in the village in fact, and unmarried too. A perfect candidate for Sukuna’s harem and they knew this when they turned and grabbed you without a second thought. You still remember the way your mother began to smack your elders with her shoe when they yanked you away from her and your father’s side. Bless her heart.

Perhaps a part of you knew that your status as the youngest would be taken advantage of if things weren’t working out. Sukuna’s harem was only a rumor, scary gossip whispered amongst the housewives. Yet the idea of a monster like him having a harem didn’t seem so farfetched. You knew better than to question the validity of the lucky few who got away and were displaced because of Sukuna’s village razing and massacring.

Whether he accepted the last second addition to the offer pile or killed every single one of you right then and there, you accepted that your life would never return to how it once was before he came. You didn’t make so much as a peep of discomfort when the brute began to manhandle you, pulling back parts of your clothes away from your body to inspect you in front of the entire village, in front of your distraught parents. You didn’t wince in pain when he roughly grabbed your cheek between two of his meaty fingers and examined your face like you were merely a piece of art, an object. You just went completely numb.

Everyone, including yourself, was shocked when he agreed to take you along with all the goods your village offered, but not without ordering them to prepare another pile for his followers to collect every following month from now on. He made it clear that if they held back a single grain of rice or gave him anything else but the best, he’d send your body back to them in a bloody sack before reuniting them with you in the afterlife shortly after.

As the king of curses hauled you away like a sack of potatoes, your emotions came flooding back in. You kicked, scream, cried and begged like a moody toddler for your mom and dad to help you, to not let this monster take you away and do know who knows what to you. The last you see of them before you’re forcefully knocked out is your mother suddenly collapsing on the ground like all the energy she had just left her body instantaneously. Your brawny father seemed equally at a loss as well.

When you were brought back to Sukuna’s temple, you were hauled away by servants after he unceremoniously dropped you on the ground and retreated to his chambers. You were thoroughly bathed, skin rubbed raw of outside filth and dressed into a fresh new robe before being whisked away to Sukuna’s quarters by his demand. 

That first week under his roof was meant to break you, but for some reason you kept fighting back because of something a bit stupid. You wanted to keep your old clothes the maids forced you out of and you wouldn’t shut up or keep still under him no matter how much he harmed or degraded you. You don’t know why you kept pushing back against him over something so meager. The fabric wasn’t anything that fancy. The color was faded and you were even beginning to outgrow them. It’s the only memento you have of your home, so maybe that’s why your mind zeroed in on it and refused to yield to his torturous ministrations until you made certain it wouldn’t be taken away from you.

“Again with those rags you call a kimono?” he clicked his tongue with annoyance. “You want to keep them so badly? Fine, but don’t think I’ll be so accommodating next time.”

Living in a merchant town, you know how to tell when someone is trying to swindle you. As much as you hate the man who has been violating your body for literal days now, you can tell that he means what he has stated.

When you finally relax your body, he lets out a disgustingly child-like cackle, but before you can express any sort of rage that bubbled up within yourself, your mind goes numb once more if only to alleviate the pain you’re in just a bit.

There are two types of fates for those in Sukuna’s harem. There are the favoured concubines, who live relatively better than the disfavoured, who are made into servants. Of course, this is all a meticulous set up by the king of curses himself. Those he shows higher favoritism towards are desperate to remain in his good graces if only to make their way of living that bit easier to bear. Those he turns into lowly servants and brushes aside are desperate to rise above their rank and gain the privilege and spoils he grants to the selected few. It’s all an elaborate plan to instill discord between members of his harem so he can sit back and watch them tear each other apart without lifting a finger.

Your fighting back was what earned you an automatic spot amongst his favoured. He thought he had broken you, but just as soon as you yielded to him you flared up and began to fight back once more. It was invigorating, seeing the rage and desperation in your eyes when you were quiet and had a distant, blank look just moments before. How long had it been since a human raised their fist against him? Far too long for him to remember.

You were an outlier. Where all would refuse to meet his gaze whenever he passed through, you would always meet and hold his gaze without fail or hesitation. You talked back, cursing him a thousand ways into the next phase of the moon. You never bowed when others did. Never.

Your disobedience gave him plenty of reasons to drag you to his chambers and attempt to break you once more, only for you to shut your mind down as soon as you were thrown into his bed. Perhaps it's a defense mechanism? A way of trying to disassociate from all the rough treatment you endure under him? A part of him is grateful you aren’t like the others, that you’ve come up with a way of protecting yourself while the others around you, who give into the despair and hopelessness he brings them or lie to themselves that he holds some sort of affection towards them, if only to find some sort of hope through this hell even if it means lying to yourself. Both of which bore him immensely as well as annoy him greatly.

It’s sudden and neither of you can recall when it began, but after he was done having his way with you and you regained your sense of reality and would devolve into the usual episode of flailing rage and crying, he began to hold you against him and whisper soothing phrases like “good job” or “It’s over, you did well”. He kept his many arms wrapped around your shaking figure, waiting for you to eventually exhaust yourself and pass out before doing so himself. When the sun rises you are always gone from his chambers. How you manage to escape right from under him is a mystery, but he doesn’t have much of a desire to ask you about it. He likes waking up surprised. Hardly anything surprises him anymore.

It becomes clear to everyone that Sukuna acts differently towards you, treats you differently than the rest of his concubines. There are even periods of time where the rest of his harem is given little to no attention because he’s completely focused on you. The time he spends with you isn’t anything kind or relieving. He purposely says things that offend you and have you screaming at him. Should anyone else say what you say to him in return, he’d rip their tongues out and swallow it before their very eyes without any remorse. But you? He’s smiling down at you, as if you were an actor entertaining him with an elaborate and well-rehearsed performance.

“Damn you! Damn this temple! Damn your ancestors for existing and bringing you into this world!”

“Yes, that’s the spirit!” he gives you a toothy grin, his sharp canines glinting under the light of the sun. “Damn me and damn the rest of the world for that matter!”

His encouragement only infuriates you more. Without a second thought you began to throw whatever it is you can get your hands on at him. Your comb, your shoes, your untouched makeup products, anything in sight is hauled at the deranged man who dodges everything with ease. Just as you throw a jar of ink at his head and it shatters against the way, bathing the wood with dark ink, he grabs you and you both tumble back into your unmade futon.

As usual, you thrash and voice your disdain as he presses his lips against your neck and aggressively undresses you. He’s high off the adrenaline from earlier, making his ministrations much more excruciating than they normally are. 

To him, it feels like a passionate session of lovemaking and he’s left light headed when he finishes.

For you, it’s just another day under his reign and body, your mind going numb as soon as he puts you on your hands and knees.

Just as quickly as he gave you most of his attention, he turned away and left you in the dust.

You have been his concubine for over a year when it happens. Your village continues to uphold their end of their deal and provide him with all the luxurious goods they can get their hands on each month. You’re not sure if he’s trying to torture you more or genuinely thinks he’s bringing you some sense of comfort and calm, but he personally brings you a small bunch of fabrics and trinkets that your father specifically went out of his way to get for you, hoping you would receive them somehow as a reminder that he still thinks of you. It’s during these small moments of Sukuna passing on these items that you learn that your mother passed after you were taken.

You didn’t shed even one tear when this information was given to you, as a part of you knew that was the case after you saw her collapse. Sukuna expected you to fly into another fit of rage. That was the only reason he told you if he’s being honest. He’s caught between feeling disappointed or worried when you just hummed in acknowledgement as you rolled up the soft, intricate rolls of fabric and stored them away. You never did anything with them, so they were sure to collect a layer of dust like the rest in due time

No one, not even Sukuna or even yourself, expected your village to take up arms and fight back against the followers he sent out to collect his offerings. When word came back of what transpired, Sukuna was tempted to take you with him and force you to watch as he slaughtered your village in retaliation for breaking the accord. He didn’t, nor did he send back your disfigured corpse like he promised he would back then. He simply went out, killed them, and then came right back to wash off all their spilled blood. All within the same day. 

After he killed all the villagers, he attempted to locate your father amongst the scattered corpses, but they were too mutilated and disfigured to discern who was who. Even if they weren’t, it’s not like he remembered what your father looked like. Did you even bear any resemblance to him? He overheard you speaking with one of the other concubines that your father was an armorer and was tempted to grab one of the expertly crafted swords the villagers were carrying and bring it back to you, blood and all staining the scabbard. He decided against it.

He’s demoted many concubines, all with the purpose of watching them try to regain the meager luxury and privilege they grew accustomed to. He did the same for you, eager to see you break character and come crawling back to him with pitiful desperation. 

A part of him knew that it wouldn’t take much effort on your part to have him changing his mind. He’d easily forgive you for the betrayal of your village. All you had to do was put on a show and give him the entertainment he wanted from you. You can kick and scream and deny him all you want, but he’s broken many people like you before. He’s had you under his spell since day one.

Except, you didn’t do anything. When he sent you to live within the overcrowded servants chambers near the far end of his temple, you never put up any sort of fight or caused a scene. Not even when he gave away all the fabrics your father sent you to the other favoured concubines, going as far as to force them to wear the garments whenever and wherever your presence is at. He waited with giddy for someone to inform him of how you lashed out at another girl and attempted to rip the cloth off of her body because they were wearing the fabrics meant for you. But there was nothing from you.

When he dragged you to his quarter and began to violate you like normal, he forced himself to brag and even fabricate details of the day he slaughtered the people from your village. He even lied about how your father asked about you before he was killed, falsely stating that the man had a smile on his face when Sukuna told him that you received all the goods he selected just for you.

Like always, your mind went blank until he finished. There were no twisted words of comfort afterwards like before. He simply ordered you out once he was done, one final attempt to invoke something out of you. You merely redressed and left in silence. He nearly got up and dragged you back, but once again, he decided against it.

One day he ordered a few men to build a crude looking home out back, detached from the main temple, and have you moved in it upon completion. If his normal efforts won’t elicit the usual reaction out of you, then he’ll take a different approach. He’ll deprive you of everything, social interaction, decent and consistent meals, and a stable shelter. He’ll have you isolated for a short while, after which he will visit you out of pity and revel in the sight of you crawling back into his arms. If the time he forces you alone is not enough to break you, he’ll simply extend your stay until you either give him what he wants or die because of your own stubbornness.

It hasn’t even been a day since you’ve been moved from the servant's chamber to your new quarters, and already he’s come to visit you. Within the same breath that tells you that your only other option besides begging for his forgiveness is to rot away in this poorly made shack, he gives you one final chance to change his mind, to beg him to take you back into his good graces.

The tatami is poorly crafted and discolored. The rafters used to construct the frame of the house already show signs of rotting and water damage. Before he allowed himself in, the tiles on the roof appeared to be hastily made and were not properly laid out. It was lightly raining outside, yet you already have a wooden bucket set up to collect leaking water.

“Can I help you?” you ask without glancing over your shoulder. He smirks at the thought of you knowing who he is by presence alone.

“No,” he smugly answers. “But maybe I can help you?”

You look back over to him with a mean glare. “You’re the one that put me here in the first place.”

“No, I didn’t,” he shakes his head to further cement his point. “You’re in here because your people thought they stood a chance against me and broke our agreement. Killing you would be an act of mercy to them. So long as I keep you alive and slowly torture you in both mind and body, they will never know peace.”

“You’re lying,” you say with certainty, with no fear. “I’ve never lied to you once. I would appreciate it if I can at least be given the same courtesy in return.”

He hates when people demand things from. Most importantly, he hates that you’re right. Your neck is always so small within his grasp, his fingers able to meet and fold over one another without strain. He keeps you suspended in the air just enough to where you can balance yourself on the balls of your feet. Whether you were tall or short, it mattered not. He always towered over you like the predator that he is.

“You want to know why you’re in this shitty home?” he sneers down. “You’re in here because you’ve begun to bore me. You amused me so much before, but the moment you started depriving me of my source of entertainment on purpose is the moment I decide to deprive you of your basic needs in return. I take what I want, when I want it, in whichever quantity I desire.

“You want out of here?” He makes a sweeping gesture around the room. “Then you better press your forehead all the way to the floor and beg for me to take you back. I’ll even tell you the exact words you need to say. ‘Please Sukuna-sama. Please allow me the privilege of sleeping under the same roof as you. Please let me breathe the same air as you.’”

He lets you go and grins when you prostrate after regaining your breathe.

“Please Sukuna-sama,” you beg.

“Please what?” he mocks. “Use your words.”

He feels a vein pop out on his forehead when you dare to look up and look at him with yet another angry grin. Without an ounce of hesitation, you say, “Please get out and leave me be.”

He nearly breaks the door from how hard he slams it shut. He abruptly turns around when he hears a roof tile fall over and splat into the muddy dirt. Those followers of his really built you a shitty home, exactly like he ordered them to do.

He feels the urge to gather them and wring their necks one by one, but he doesn’t know why.

Sukuna can’t sleep during those weeks apart. Not because of you, but because right as he drifts off into slumber he’s abruptly woken up by an intense source of cursed energy flaring up out of nowhere. But just as quickly as he feels it and wakes with a startle, it vanishes without a trace. He’ll go out onto his balcony and try to locate where the energy is coming from, but for some reason he can never pinpoint it despite his superior senses. He tries to suppress his own energy in the hopes of tricking the source into thinking he’s asleep and unsuspecting, but it would seem that they’re smart enough not to fall for the bait.

He doesn’t need sleep in the first place, so he’s tempted to just stay up and catch whoever is trying to scare him red handed and be done with them. The idea of someone getting the upper hand at him and forcing him into a position of defensiveness doesn’t sit well with him, so he decides to just let the unknown person have their fun for now and continue this little back and forth with them. Eventually they’ll grow cocky and slip up and he’ll confront them when it happens.

Because your little shack is located near the back of the temple, completely out of sight from Sukuna’s view from his balcony, Neither he nor the others notice the plumes of smoke that rise during the dead of night. No one also takes notice of the bits of metal that go missing throughout the temple.

The rise of the next full moon indicates the end of the month. Sukuna sends for someone to go retrieve you, but they never return and he’s left waiting long enough for the moon to reach its highest peak in the sky. When he orders someone else into his quarters he’s met with more silence that only further enrages him.

Just as he’s about to call for Uraume to figure out what the hell was wrong with his servants, he feels it. The cursed energy that he’s been trying to catch off guard the last few weeks. It’s willingly making itself known, practically begging him to follow its trail and meet with him. Just as quickly as he is able to identify and figure out which direction it’s originating, he notices that it strangely leads him in the direction of your poorly built home.

It’s impossible that it’s you. Cursed energy is born from negative emotions. He’s sure you still have an abundance of negative feelings towards him. Yet never did he feel even a speck of cursed energy resonate off of you. His mind immediately wonders if the individual knows of his strange obsession over you and is using you as bait. It’s foolish on their part, thinking the king of curses would yield for a mere human. 

His pace quickens despite his internal dismissal, failing to notice that everyone is hiding and waiting in anticipation. 

When he discovers that the cursed energy is indeed from you, he can’t help but to laugh like a crazed hyena. The sword by your side further amuses him and he’s genuinely curious as to how you got the proper materials to craft it.

“It took a bit of convincing,” you willingly answer his question. “I made everyone believe I could stand a chance against you and they gave me all the materials and tools I needed and looked the other way. I guess watching all those traveling merchants try to hype up their goods came in handy after all,” you look out in the distance as you briefly reminisce on the bygone days of your former life.

He begins to slowly clap with one pair of hands, the other crossed over his chest in amusement. “This is by far the most entertaining performance I’ve ever witnessed. Bravo. You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

“I’d gladly accept the compliment, except this isn’t a show,” you stand to your full height and get a better grip of the hilt of your sword. “It’s the real deal.”

He erupts into yet another cacophony of wild laughter. “Do you seriously think you can kill me?”

“No,” you answer, truly throwing him off guard by the way he goes still so suddenly. “But that’s alright. I’m fine with never being strong enough to put a permanent end to you. Only one of us will be walking away from this fight, and I assure you that it’s going to be me.”

You draw your blade out and get into a low, defensive stance. Even under the lackluster light of the moon, he can see how well crafted your weapon is. He’s reminded of the craftsmanship the weapons your people carried when he slaughtered them, no better than a bunch of wooden sticks against him either way. Immediately, he regrets not bringing back one of their weapons and forcing you to expose to him your knowledge of swordsmanship and blacksmithing. Perhaps then he could have had you brandishing your blade under his command rather than against him.

Oh well, it’s better this way. It’s just as exhilarating and head swirling as those instances where you damned him with all of your being and threw things at his head. No, it’s more than exhilarating. It’s downright intoxicating seeing you readying yourself for his first move. How sweet of you to allow him the honor to make the first strike.

“You truly are something else entirely, beloved,” he dreamily sighs. “Did you honestly think you’d have the upperhand against me just because I gave you a little bit more of my attention?”

“Never,” you reply. You press your eyelids shut for a moment, and the moment you open them up the layer of dissociative numbness vanishes into a look of total focus and emotions he cannot discern. “But whether I live or die, I have no regrets about tonight.”

You really didn’t have enough strength to kill him. However, you did have enough to dismember all twenty of his fingers and seal him away. For the first time in years, the sun rises and bestows its warmth to a world in which two-faced Sukuna does not instill fear upon humanity or stain the earth in their blood. You and those who were under his servitude walk out of his temple as free people, hopeful people. As an act of gratitude for becoming their savior, nineteen others take one of Sukuna’s fingers each and swear to scatter them as far as they can so he cannot be brought back into the world.

As for yourself, you set out to rebuild your destroyed village and take up your father’s legacy as a maker of swords. Eventually you meet and settle down with a loving partner and raise children together. You pass on the family trade, your self developed cursed technique, as well as the memories of your time as Sukuna’s concubine. Those who come after you continue to carry on your will, to ensure that Sukuna can never be reborn into the world. Your sword and the old robes you kept after you were taken away are passed down as family heirlooms, but they are never used by any of your descendants.

That is until the year 2018, when Sukuna is resurrected within a compatible vessel.

Modern era

You bear not only a striking resemblance to your ancestor, but many of their memories as well. The family sword that was used against the king of curses is bestowed upon you, now dubbed the next in line to claim the title of clan leader, their preserved kimono now fashioned into a sageo that wraps around the scabbard.

Your family stays out of most affairs within the jujutsu world, but your birth and the strong connection to your ancestor eventually reaches the ears of many prominent figures within this hidden society. They think your birth a bad omen, a sign that the king of curses may return to the world one day. Most are scared, but your family pays them no attention. Even if the damnable curse did find a way to revive into the world, you and most of your family members who have inherited your ancestor’s technique will oppose him just as they did a thousand years ago.

“You don’t look too concerned,” Gojo makes his observation known to you as soon as the two of you settle in the small private room you ushered him to when he came to your family estate. He wanted to confirm the news of Sukuna’s resurrection to you himself. “None of you do, actually.”

“We all knew this day would come,” you calmly tell him as you poured him a cup of tea. “This is the risk our ancestor took when they developed their technique. In exchange for the strength and ability to seal Sukuna away, they willingly gave up the ability to deliver him a fatal and final blow against him.”

“I’m not well-versed when it comes to binding vows and heavenly restrictions,” he takes a moment of pause to sip his now cooled tea, visibly showing his disdain over it’s bitterness. “But is giving up the satisfaction of killing him really a fair exchange for a specific technique and a bit of cursed energy?”

Your lips pressed together in a grimace. “You have no idea what it was like living underneath that monster’s reign. Even if the binding vow had odd conditions skewed against their favor, every bit of what was given up was worth it if it meant regaining their freedom.”

Gojo isn’t moved or even impressed by your admittance. He simply shrugs before taking another sip of his tea, face contorting in displeasure once again as he forces himself to swallow the green liquid. You’re tempted to ask him why he keeps sipping if he hates the flavor, but he begins speaking again before you can voice your thoughts.

“So, about the vessel,” he leans against his closed fist, propped up by the low table underneath him. “The higher ups are willing to postpone the kid’s execution in favor of the opportunity to kill Sukuna, but they want someone from your family, preferably you, to be his second shadow so to speak. You’re the failsafe in case the plan doesn’t play out like I promised and the curse needs to be sealed again.”

“Sukuna’s vessel...is a child?” you ask incredulously.

“He’s about your age,” Gojo admits with a displaced smile, but it soon falls once you suddenly erupt into a fit of uncontrollable giggles.

“That’s priceless!” you say while wiping away a stray tear. “The king of curses, Ryomen Sukuna, stuck inside some teenager’s body? I bet he’s pissed off and swearing up a storm inside the kid!”

You’re not sure who exactly is getting the most amusement at the turn of events, you or your ancestor from beyond the grave. After your laughing fit subsides and you straighten yourself out, you turn back to Gojo to ask him the burning question.

“So when do I get to meet him?”

Itadori Yuuji is the polar opposite of Sukuna. While Sukuna had a smile that both angered and scared your ancestor and those around him, Yuuji’s was like a literal ray of sunshine. He’s nice, energetic, strong willed and even humorous. You’re honestly surprised he can act so hopeful despite all that’s happened to him and has been forced upon his shoulders.

You’re not going to lie, but you honestly expected a timid and somewhat gloomy kid. Someone easy to manipulate to put it bluntly. Yuuji’s friendly personality is welcomed in your book. Though you admit that now that you’ve exchanged a few words with him, you feel bad and pitiful that he’s been marked for death and likely has to deal with Sukuna on a somewhat regular basis.

As Yuuji rambles to you about some childhood incident, the slits underneath his eyes open up and a familiar pair of red eyes meets your gaze. “It’s you,” the manifested mouth on the side of his cheek morphs into a deranged, toothy grin that is so painstakingly recognizable. 

Your heartbeat picks up and your palms are coated with an instantaneous layer of nervous sweat. You contemplate saying something or simply ignoring the curse, not wanting to give him any satisfaction of hearing the voice of your ancestor acknowledge him in any way. Before you can come to any consensus, you’re amazed at how Yuuji easily slaps his hand over his cheek and tells the curse to buzz off.

Itadori further cements that he is Sukuna’s antithesis as he goes out of his way to apologize to you for the inconvenience the curse caused you (How could he tell you became nervous when Sukuna spoke only two words at you?) He even brings you a can of soda as a sort of peace offering/token of forgiveness! You’re grateful for the gesture, but you feel bad for letting him think that he’s at fault for something that wasn’t even that big of a deal to begin with.

“Still, I made you upset,” he looks down to his empty can and pouts. “If you don’t want to be around me-”

“Yuuji,” you interrupt him. “I’m fine, really. My ancestor stood their ground against him once. Surely I can do it again a millennium later.”

“Gojo-sensei was telling me about that!” his eyes sparkle with recollection. “That’s so cool! You’re basically his arch nemesis!”

You awkwardly laugh at his enthusiasm. “That’s one way of putting it.”

“So, Senpai,” he looks at your with a hopeful gaze. “Gojo-sensei seems pretty certain this plan of his will work, but what do you think?”

“Well,” you take a quick sip of your drink before continuing. “Before I tell you what I think about this whole debacle, I need to make a few things thing clear regarding the two of us.”

He obediently nods, face now serious, though it takes you a considerable amount of effort not to laugh from how innocent he still looks. It’s hard to believe he’s housing the king of curses within himself.

“First and foremost, don’t call me Senpai! ” you firmly say. Don’t call me by my family name either. We’re about the same age, so just call me by my first name from now on. Understood?”

“First name, got it!”

“Second,” you put up two fingers. “This is the most important point, so pay attention,” you look at him to make sure he’s ready to commit your words into memory. “Whether the plan works out or not, you must never forget one important fact of the matter. You are not Sukuna.”

He flinches, clearly not expecting such words to be directed towards him.

“I’m sure Gojo whipped up some epic tale about my ancestor’s grudge against that two-faced monster. I not only inherited their technique, but also many of their memories during their initial life. In a way, I suppose I hate Sukuna as well, and based on my reaction from earlier when he popped out, I’m not exactly going to handle moments where he gains control with as much poise as I should.

But remember Yuuji. My discomfort will never be towards you, but the curse you are now bound to,” you reach out and pat his head in assurance. “As the saying goes ‘the enemy of my enemy is a friend.’ Which brings me to my final point!” You excitedly profess. “I want us to be friends!”

“Wait, really?” he sounds almost unsure over your insistence. “I mean, I don’t mind, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to put up with me for my sake.”

“I’m not saying we have to be the best of friends” you explain. “Since we’re going to be around each other so often, I at least want us to be on friendly terms. I want your time left in this world to be as enjoyable and carefree as possible.”

“I guess we can be friends,” he crosses his arms and stares off in deep thought. “I’m just trying to think of a good starting point to get to know you.”

“You can always keep it simple and ask me what I like,” you say, laughing at the way he suddenly has an “ah hah!’ moment and looks at you like an excited puppy.

“Do you like Jennifer Lawrence?” 

Yuuji is almost offended that you didn’t know who Jennifer Lawrence is. He was utterly flabbergasted that you haven’t watched any of her movies either (“I don’t even know who she is Yuuji how the hell am I supposed to know she was in movies?”). He went on and on about every single film, but if you’re being honest his 2 minute summaries (infodumping, really) of the plots didn’t really do them justice. Out of nowhere he proposes that you and him have a movie night so he can show you exactly what you’re missing! Of course, it’ll have to be after the two of you settle into your dorm rooms.

It’s true that you were offered immediate admission into Tokyo Technical college due to your lineage, but no one but you and your family knew about this. Gojo also knew. He was the one that brought up the idea in the first place… 

Oh, Gojo told him. Well now you just feel stupid.

That’s how you found yourself in the dormitory’s common area with Yuuji and your other classmates, Nobara and Megumi. Meeting them wasn’t that bad. Just kidding, it was terrifying! Megumi looks exactly the way your family often describes members of the Zen’in clan to look like, blank and unnerving. You honestly thought Nobara would beat you up just from the way she was looking at you with such an observing glare, completely forgetting the fact that you’re a descendant of the person who single handedly sealed Sukuna away.

Oh yeah, Yuuji told them that! Was he not supposed to?

“Hah?” Nobara scowls at Yuuji, who puts his hands up in defense. “You mean their old ass grandparent turned that ugly ass curse into bite sized pieces?”

“I did,” you answer, but you quickly catch your mistake and correct yourself. “They did. Along with the sword they used to cut Sukuna down I also inherited most of their memories which is...It’s not as pleasant as you would think.”

Her expression softens up a bit and she steps in front of you. She holds out her palm and makes a beckoning gesture. “The sword,” she clarifies when you look at her with confusion. “Let me hold it.”

You make a quick trip back to your room to retrieve it. She nearly doubles over into you once you pass it over to her.

“Damn! How much does this thing weigh?!” she looks at you with disbelief

“It weighs next to nothing whenever I hold it,” you explain, taking it into your hold and tossing it in the air and twirling it around to further drive your point.

“Bullshit! It’s like 50 pounds!” 

“It can’t be that bad,” Megumi comments.

“Oh yeah? Here!” Nobara grabs and tosses it at him, much to your dismay. “See?” she shrills when he nearly doubles over himself. “It’s heavy!”

“Yeah, ok. This is definitely the sword that took down Sukuna,” Megumi gasps.

“My turn! My turn!” Yuuji makes grabby hands, but you push yourself between him and Megumi who’s still holding onto it before he can get too close.

“It’s probably best if you don’t touch it. Y’know?” you point back and forth between him and you.

“Oh, right,” he sheepishly remembers. “Crap, the popcorns gonna get cold!”

You sigh in relief when his attention goes elsewhere before quickly heading back to your room to put the weapon away. When you reenter the lounge, Yuuji greets you with a cheery smile before patting the empty space next to him. He wants you to sit beside him, but Nobara seems to have other plans as she sits right in your intended spot and tells you to sit next to her instead. You were honestly scared and a bit reluctant, but your fears subside once you sat down and she locked her arm with yours and leaned her head on your shoulder for the rest of the night. 

She and Megumi eventually retreated back to their rooms before they could fall asleep on the couch after the second movie concludes.

“Do you want to keep going?” Yuuji asked, hands fidgeting with the next DVD case he had at the ready.

“Sure,” you nod, not tired in the slightest just yet.

“Sweet!” he gave you a toothy smile before standing up to head towards the dvd player. However, the moment he stood to his full height he went deathly still. His body contorts before swiftly relaxing. He rolls his neck a few times and lets out a relieved sigh. Before you can ask him what’s wrong, that’s when you feel that disgusting familiar aura and your heart starts beating like you just did a triathlon in a few short minutes.

“Finally, some fresh air,” he sighs in relief as he arches his back and his spine lets out a few crisp pops. His voice hasn’t changed in a thousand years and neither has your fear and disdain for it. When he turns and looks at you with those familiar blood colored irises, you involuntarily reach out to grab your weapon, but you only grab at empty air.

“Hey,” you flinch when he addresses you. No, it’s not you he’s talking to. Given your identical appearance and even your cursed energy that you manifested out of habit, in his mind he must think of you as your ancestor themself, not a distant descendant. “It’s been a while.”

“What do you want?” you somehow manage to stutter out.

“Nothing,” he admits. “’Just want a good look at you.”

If your ancestor or even your family were to see you now, you’re certain they’d be disappointed in you for going still before your greatest enemy. All those years of hating and experiencing all those horrible memories feel like a complete waste when you can’t even muster the strength to bat his hand away when it takes hold of your chin and turns your head over for him to thoroughly inspect you.

“Did you miss me?” he strangely inquires.

Finally. You feel some control over your body come back and answer with an affirmative, “No.”

“That’s too bad,” he clicks his tongue with mocking dissatisfaction. “Because I missed you.”

His face begins to lean into you, lips slightly parted, and you know that he’s going in to press them against yours. Just as you’re about to gather all the strength you can muster and push him away, his body seizes once more and the black markings cross his face and wrists begin to fade and crumble away. An in-control-again Yuuji blinks a few times before checking his surroundings to regain his bearings.

“What happened?” he looks down at you and asks, not registering the fact that he was kneeling over you and firmly pushing you back against the couch with a painful grip.

A part of you wanted to punch Yuuji and run back to your room so you can wait out the slight panic attack that overcame you once Sukuna vanished, but you had to remind yourself that you would be hurting Yuuji if you went through with your action. In all honesty, that second point you told him of remembering to never think of himself as Sukuna was more for you than for him. While your ancestor would willingingly strike down any and all who have the slightest bit of affiliation with their tormentor, you are not them. Therefore, you will not stoop down to their discriminating level, no matter how justified it may be.

The night ended on an expected awkward note. Yuuji, bless his heart, went out of his way again to make it up to you. How? He bought a bunch of snacks from a convenience store in the city and gave them to you in a pretty, gift wrapped box. Nobara and Megumi, who helped him put together the forgiveness present, thought the gift itself was dumb and lackluster, but he reasons with them by stating how you also come from a countryside town as well and how you’d definitely like to try some of the Tokyo-exclusive goodies.

Well, the way towards another’s forgiveness is through the stomach, or something like that. The exact quote is a bit lost to you since you’re too busy savoring all the odd flavored chips and candies you’ve never had the chance to taste back home. Nobara and Megumi feel the immense urge to punch you in the back of your head over how easy you are to win over, but you look so happy eating your second bag of potato chips and Yuuji looks very relieved that he’s earned your forgiveness- 

Oh wow you’re offering to share your snacks with them? Don't mind if they do!

While all of you try each and every snack Yuuji gifted to you and rate them like you’re all a bunch of snack experts all of a sudden, Sukuna is brewing in his own satisfaction as he watches you through the eyes of his vessel. Nevermind the fact that you sealed him away all those years ago. He’s back now by a stroke of luck that only seemed to strike again when he saw your familiar figure through Yuuji’s vision. The cursed energy that radiated off of you, the sword you carried by your side, even your face, there was no doubt in his mind that it was the work of fate that you and him were reunited in this new era.

He made the mistake of letting you out of his sight back then, and he isn’t going to let it happen again. He wants to take control over his vessel's body each and every time he’s anywhere within your vicinity, but not only does the brat have the convenient ability to suppress him, you’re a rather cautious one. Just when he thinks Yuuji to be alone and susceptible, you appear out of thin air and keep him at a standstill from within. It’s annoying, but at the same time impressive as well.

While you may be oblivious to his vessel’s budding feelings towards you, he sees this growing fondness Yuuji is beginning to garner towards you as an opportunity, a weakness he can exploit to force a small rematch between you and him. He won’t kill you. He just wants to know if your technique that surprised and caught him off guard back then still elicits the same thrill it did then. 

You are his favorite source of entertainment after all, and it’s been far too long since he’s been amused.

Sloppy and desperate. Those are the best descriptors of your cursed energy the first time he detected it. Your sword still remains as beautiful and deadly as it was, cutting through rows of trees with ease with just the slightest bit of cursed energy embedded into your attack. It makes the phantom sensation of his vessel’s freshly ripped out heart, beat faster and his grin widens to the point of his cheeks hurting from the uncontrollable strain.

Precise and brutal. That is how he would describe your energy now. He easily feels the hatred and sudden rage that began to fuel and flare up your aura oozing out of you that only further accentuates its new characteristics. Normally, you would be swearing at him with a mouth so foul that it would make the average curse blush in embarrassment. He can’t say he likes the way you silently assault him. Where is that crude vocabulary of yours?

“Senpai!” Megumi shouts for your attention as he tries to keep up with your fast paced exchange with Sukuna. “You need to call down-”

“Megumi, don’t call me your damn Senpai!” You shout in response, eyes never daring to look away from Sukuna even as you address your classmate.

“That’s more like it!” he cheers with satisfaction. “Oh, how I’ve missed your damning words beloved.”

“Don’t call me that!” you shout as you swing your right arm and impulsively punch him. He easily blocks your melee, though you send him skidding back a few feet. 

With the much needed space set between the two of you, you correct your stance to a more defensive one. Your innate technique has been actively running ever since Sukuna took over Yuuji’s body and activated his domain expansion. Your sudden bout of rage overwhelmed you after witnessing Sukuna rip Yuuji’s heart out, nearly forgetting that you’ve been barred from the ability to inflict any lasting damage against him in your frenzied state.

Your inherited technique allows you to perfectly parry his ‘Dismantle’ and ‘Cleave’, but no damage will be inflicted if you purposely strike with the intention of dealing a lethal blow as you have been for the past few minutes. Your sword is blunt upon contact, evident by the lack of any lacerations upon his skin.

He may have offered the chance to heal Yuuji if you agreed to spar with him, but you know better than anyone that it’s all a bunch of lies coming out of his stolen lips. Yuuji was lost the moment Sukuna came out and set his sight on you, or rather, who he believes you to be. You’d easily blame yourself for being the cause of his demise, but you also know that Yuuji wouldn’t like it if you blame yourself over this from the afterlife.

The least you can do to make it up to him is bring his body back so it can be properly cremated. He at least deserves a proper funeral.

“All tuckered out already?” Sukuna mockingly coos at you. “I suppose that’s to be expected. How long has it been since our last battle? I doubt there was any curse who could live up to my strength this past millennium.” He cackles when you don’t reply. He’s right. He knows he is.

You finally break your silence with an odd comment. “You really think I’m them, do you?”

Though obviously rhetoric, Sukuna gives you a questioning look. “Elaborate,” he commands.

“I’m not who you think I am,” you simply state. “I have the same technique as them, but I am not the one who sealed you away that fateful night. That person is my predecessor, while I am their descendant.”

You state your family name, then your first name, and wait. He willingly takes in this information, cupping his chin and looking up at the sky as he mulls it over before coming to his own conclusion. Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t seem to accept it as the truth, evident by the way he slips his hands back in his pockets and cocks his head at you with a playful attitude.

“Whatever the punchline was, I’m afraid it fell flat,” he lets out a sympathetic laugh. “You mean to tell me that after I was sealed away, you found yourself a spouse willing to take you, a washed up whore, into their bosom and bear children with you?”

The way he shakes his head and clicks his tongue in a dismissive manner pisses you off more than watching him crush Yuuji’s heart in his bare hand. Most of the memories of your ancestor revolve around their time as one of Sukuna’s concubines. The memories you have of their life afterwards are foggy at best, but you do remember the feeling of peace as well an overwhelming amount of bliss and mutual love their spouse gave them despite their history. It was one of the happiest moments of their life and it never once faltered even after they retold their darkest memories to their children and handed down their initial will, to always oppose the king of curses, no matter the era.

People may think it cruel, selfish even, that they did not strive to develop a better technique and pass down such a heavy responsibility to their children and their children’s children. But if there’s anything those hazy memories taught you, is that they do not regret the efforts that they did make to set themselves, and the others under his servitude, free from his tyranny. Had they submitted and gave into his whims, they would have never been blessed with their children and loving spouse.

Had they not done what they did, acted the way they did, you would not be here, opposing the king of curses within this new era of curses.

“I have never lied to you,” you repeat those now ancient words. “The least you can do is give me the benefit of the doubt before dubbing me a liar.”

It happened so fast that you question if it even happened or not. His eyebrows furrowed, the exact same manner when your ancestor severed the first of his twenty fingers on that fateful night.

When he began to approach you, you sheath your blade and returned to a neutral stance, feeling safe to do so as the previous hostile energy he exuded calms. Megumi stumbles in just in time to see Sukuna and you standing nearly chest to chest. He presses his palms together in preparation to summon one of his shikigami to provide support, but he stops his incantation when he notices that neither of you are exchanging blows anymore, though the two of you do exchange unfaltering glares towards each other that puts Megumi on edge even though he is merely a spectator in this situation.

“I am not them,” you firmly state. “This is the truth.”

Sukuna hums, dissatisfaction clear as you repeat your claim from earlier.

“It seems you weren’t lying,” he finally concedes. “Such a shame.”

With one final shrug, the black markings all over Yuuji’s chest and limbs begin to crumble until there's nothing but his unblemished skin. The sharper features his face takes on when Sukuna takes control and taints with his sigils turn back into those belonging to the typically boisterous boy.

“Hey,” his slightly raspy and confused voice greets you so genuinely. 

“Hey,” you greet him back with a relieved, yet sad smile. His eyes follow yours that seemed focused on his chest and that’s when he finally notices the gaping hole as well as the lack of a beating heart and blood trail.

The grey clouds that have been gathering before you all were dropped off at the school finally begin to shed droplets of cold rain down on you. A drop lands perfectly on his face that looks indistinguishable to a shed tear. You instinctively reach out and wipe it away.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like this,” he pouts. 

“It’s alright,” you withdraw your hand away from his cold and sickeningly pale cheek. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you from him.”

He took a deep breath as if he was about to say something else, but his eyes finally go blank and his upright body gives out and falls forward. You catch him with ease and carefully set him down on the damp soil. He’s officially gone to you, yet you take extra care to cup the back of his head and gently set him down with shaking hands. As you kneel beside his stiff body, another drop falls on his face and trickles down. 

You’re not sure if it’s another raindrop or the first of many teardrops that begin to spill from your tear ducts once your brain finally registers that your best friend is lying dead before you.

A week later

Yuuji is dead, yet it is as clear as the large hole in his chest that Sukuna is still living on within the body, if only barely. Ieiri, Gojo and Ijichi can’t tell, but you can. Call it yet another inherited skill or instinct, but no amount of pitiful words or comforting pats on your back from either of them are going to make you second guess yourself on this matter.

Sukuna is alive, yet for some reason he isn’t staking his claim on the body. You know he can at any moment, but it seems he’s not entirely stupid and is trying to play his cards right.

Perhaps he’s waiting for something? Maybe a certain someone instead? It wouldn’t surprise you if he has allies that are still alive and are well aware of his resurrection. It wouldn’t surprise you either if they were gathering his other fingers in his stead. Those damn things are blinking beacons for other curses, so gathering them shouldn’t be hard even for the most mediocre of cursed beings. Even when he’s made into a bunch of inanimate objects, he can still cause some amount of chaos and grief.

Damn him.

Your claim that Sukuna still lives goes from outlandish and desperate to undoubtedly true when a faint pulse of his energy brings everyone’s attention to Yuuji’s corpse and puts you all on the defensive. It was a signal, specifically for you. He wants you to come to him, within his own playing field and without the prying eyes of your superiors or the chance for any outside interference from your teacher.

Speaking of Gojo, he’s been trying to pull you away from Yuuji’s corpse and usher you out of the room for your own protection.

“He wants to talk to me,” you state the obvious to him.

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” he says with finality. It’s almost adorable how he’s trying to play the role of the stern authority figure when he’s normally such an eccentric man 99% of the time. “C’mon, you need to leave.”

“Gojo-sensei,” you reach up to your shoulder that he’s tightly gripping and gently pry his hand off. “I mean no disrespect to you, or anyone at this school for that matter. But when it comes to matters regarding Ryomen Sukuna, you and the higher ups don’t know a damn thing about that monster.”

Your hand hastily reaches out and your fingertips merely graze against Yuuji’s cold and rigid skin. Just that slight contact is enough to have your surroundings shift from a stagnant and grey autopsy room to a dark and brooding domain. You blink away the dizziness from your sudden shift of reality and the first thing you notice is the pile of ox skulls. You also notice the endless rows of ribs high up in the air that further add towards the domain’s ominousness.

“I’m here!” you cup your hands around your mouth as you yell out. “The hell do you want from me you two-faced bastard?!”

“Quit screaming,” his annoyed yet strangely soft voice startles you. You abruptly turn around to meet him face to face.

“Where’s Yuuji?” you ask with command behind your infliction.

“There’s no one else but us,” he says in a poor attempt to make you drop your defensive body posture. When he notices that you aren’t relaxing, he points behind you with an annoyed glare. You turn to see nothing but the collection of dirtied animal skulls, but at the last second you see an unconscious Yuuji planted face down into the ankle deep water (blood?) at the bottom of the mountainous pile. Upon seeing the familiar tuft of pink hair, you sprint towards his unmoving body. You flip him upwards once he’s in reach, fearing he was drowning or at the very least injured in some way.

As you try to gently coax or check for any sign of life within your friend, you ignore or even fail to notice the way Sukuna observes you from behind. The boy is unconscious only due to Sukuna easily decapitating him earlier as they fought over the conditions of the binding vow he was enforcing in exchange for healing his vessel’s body and bringing him back to life. Just as he was about to uphold his end of the vow, he felt as you entered the room his vessel’s lifeless body was most definitely being stored to be later cremated. 

His reaching out to you was an impulsive action on his part. He now knows that the one who stands before him is truly not you. Your energy and your descendants are near indistinguishable, so his sudden call of you was a mere force of habit and his prevailing desire to chase after you. It’s not his brightest moment, but you tend to make him act beyond what is usually his typical behavior. 

As he watches your descendant talk to a half awake and delirious Yuuji, he can’t help but to examine them with a bit of awe. The one before him is your descendant of a thousand years, perhaps even more. They are your flesh and blood, and yet they retain not only your image, but even some of your memories as well. He doesn’t know what to think of this revelation, truly he doesn’t.

The only thing that’s rubbing him the wrong way is the fact that they are not a product between you and him. It’s not that he has or had any sort of unfulfilled paternal desire locked deep within him. Even if he did contemplate producing a few offspring before his temporary demise, he only wanted children for the same reason he wanted a harem, as a source of amusement that he can freely manipulate however he sees fit. Perhaps he did consider impregnating a few dozen of his concubines to see if any could birth him an heir worthy of his legacy, but the entire process was too much of a hassle that he wasn’t willing to deal with at the time. He had no pure intentions when it comes to spreading his seed into the world.

So why is he angry that you went ahead and did so without him?

“Your ancestor’s spouse,” he idly mentions in an attempt to garner their careful attention. From the way they stiffen up and look at him with that familiar glare of yours, he has it. “What were they like?”

“As if I’d tell you,” they say.

“I see you inherited their stubbornness,” he huffs with annoyance, but deep down in the deepest and most hidden parts of his mind, he feels somewhat glad that your stubbornness continues to live on in the world. “Tell me, and I’ll let you return with Yuuji-”

“Their spouse was just as stubborn as they were,” they cut him off with an immediate answer. “No matter how many times they tried to ignore or downplay their advances, they continued to chase after my predecessor until it was as obvious as the sun that they truly wanted to be together with them and make them happy.”

As he expected, their recollection of your life after him is too disgustingly domestic and romanticized for his liking. What does come at a surprise is that they completely went against their earlier proclamation of remaining silent and divulged him on the information he initially asked of you rather readily. Something must have switched in their mind. Are they trying to get back at him on your behalf by proudly stating that you lived a happy life without him?

“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” they say with a smug voice. “They hated you beyond comprehension, and even if they are long gone from this world, I assure you that their hatred remains just as intense as it was when they lived.”

“Don’t be mistaken, you pathetic human,” he growls, much more angrily than normal. “I could care less who they fornicated with and how many children they produced.”

“For the self proclaimed king of curses, you sure are a terrible liar,” they say, almost pitifully. “You regret the way you treated them, don’t you? Deny it all you want, I know I’m right.”

Your last comment is the final straw. With the flick of his wrist he casts you and Yuuji out of his inner domain and back into the living world. He heals Yuuji to maintain his side of the binding vow before settling back atop his rigid throne of horned skulls. He watches through Yuuji’s eyes how the two of you squeeze each other into a firm embrace after he reawakens. When Gojo makes a comment about how Yuuji is stark naked on the metal table, he feels the immense urge to grab one of the skulls and crush it into a fine dust in his bare fist as the two of you devolve into a fit of awkward but good natured laughter at the realization.

He can’t remember a time when you ever laughed or smiled like your descendant is doing now.

Does he regret never once seeing or hearing you in such a way? Maybe.

But you’re gone, so there is no point lingering on it too much.

There’s no point in having regrets now.

Bonus

Sukuna knew it was only a matter of time before you and Yuuji solidified your relationship as a romantic one. Back in his prime, he behaved no differently than Yuuji did after he brought him back to life, straightforward and without a second thought. Ever since he stole you away from your family and home, every chance you took at defying him and damning his name into the fiery pits of hell invoked something within him. Something no other man or woman can or ever will be able to. And yet, each time he reached out to indulge himself further of you, you retreated into yourself and tried to cast him out of every corner of your mind while he tried to engrave your everything into his very being. Your behavior to his advances differ greatly from your descendant, who accepts Yuuji’s advances with an honest and willing smile.

He watches the relationship through the unsuspecting eyes of his vessel. Sometimes, he gags at how sickeningly affectionate Yuuji can be. Yet despite his behavior, your descendant drinks it all up and returns the hugs and the kisses tenfold. Nobara and Megumi often roll their eyes on the sidelines and comment on how they were practically made for each other. Sukuna can't help but silently roll his eyes as well as agree with their annoyed comments, even if it makes him incredibly irritated. 

Will he ever admit to the latter? Never.

He does not regret the way things turned out between you and him. He cannot regret for the sake of his sanity. Instead, he often ponders about the possibilities. Had he not taken you from your home, could there have been a chance you and him could have been friends despite his reputation at the time? If he courted you properly instead of forcing you into his collection of common whores, could you look at him the same way your descendant looks at Yuuji, with so much love and tenderness that it makes his stomach twist into knots and the back of his throat burn? Despite being a curse who sustains himself on his pure carnal desires, could he have been selfless and put forth the efforts to make you happy?

During nights when they share a bed together, he sneaks control over the body and traces what was once your face with his black painted claws. Could you ever look so peaceful as your descendant does now if you laid beside him? Would you remain in his bed until the sun rises instead of fleeing? Would your body feel just as warm, fit just as perfectly in his embrace as your descendant does?

Sukuna does not regret the path he took. He cannot, for the sake of his sanity. He does wonder about the possibilities.

He wonders, could this descendant of yours have been his as well?

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “An Analysis of Humans.”

Guess my brain wanted to write a partial scholarly paper today, so I guess this is what we got. Added in text sources to make it seem more legit. Lol

An Aggregated Summary of Human and Alien Comparisons

By Dr. Krill, Dr. Katie Quinn, and Dr. Adric Dracondi 

It has long been known, since humans were first introduced onto the galactic stage, that humans are, arguably, the most powerful sentient alien species in the known universe.  These are not simply popular conjectures by nonscientific minds, but the scientific community itself has conducted multiple studies regarding the adaptability and prowess of the human in comparison to other species. Many of these studies have examined, intelligence, hunting prowess, strength, and adaptability as their primary focus, (Diss, A., Wallin, G., and Millard; Wix and Veen). Based on these prior studies, this paper will attempt to summarize the overall strength of a human based on their homeworld evolution, comparison to other species, and their technological interplay.

Humans have existed on their home planet of earth for roughly 200,000 years. In comparison to other alien species, they are rather young, and still within the historical memory of the Rundi, who have existed through two major technology jumps, leaving much of their older historical records lost to time (Keple, J., et, all). Humanity began its life in the Miocene Epoch climbing through trees in the African savanna using both their feet and hands as tools for climbing. During this time they developed the ability to stand upright in order to use their hands for foraging. This gave them an increased ability to forage, and allowed them to share their food between pack members creating, what we now understand to be, the human’s social bonds (Keller, A., Winzer, C, V., and Pellar, Q). Of course, this wasn’t the only reason for human’s increased social bonds. Sometime during this period, the African Savanna went through a period of natural deforestation, reducing the number of trees humans could climb. For this reason, they were forced to turn to the ground where larger predators lurked (Huntsman, J,. Et. Al). At this point in time humans did not have many advantages against large predators, and even as of now, an unarmed human against most mid sized predators is going to lose. Compared to their own planetary predators, humans are not very fast, not very strong and not particularly dangerous when viewed alone. However, one of the human’s greatest advantages was originally their pack sizes encouraging cooperation among members to both protect each other and watch for predators. Predators would be much less likely to hunt a human in a large pack, sut as they are less likely to hunt other animals if they are in large groups preferring to attack those who are alone, weak or sick (Keller, A., Winzer, C, V., and Pellar, Q). 

Why then, were humans able to survive at all as they have some serious strategic disadvantages. Humans are slow, have no trees to climb, poor smell , arguably por hearing, and dismal strength in comparison to savannah predators. Furthermore, the transition into humans walking upright caused the narrowing of the pelvic bone, which would become an issue as humans continued to evolve. The answer to this question comes with later iterations of the evolved humans. After thor descent from the trees, humans gained a few important abilities: first of all they lost all of their fur giving them the ability to sweat, their legs were lengthened and their arms were shortened giving them a superior sense of balance for throwing, and their cranial size increased giving them the ability to use and create tools for cracking bone which would aid them in foraging: the increased brain size would later give them the unique ability to speak. These two distinctions being important precursors for sentient life (Wheeler., R, Winter, F., And Nix., L). 

The human ability to sweat, coupled with their upright walk gave humans the natural ability to run while carrying tools, such as spears and weapons. Early humans evolved for running long distances. The arches of their feet act as springs which depress and spring back as they run. Tendons in the back of the ankle do the same, while powerful muscles in their lower backs and butts keep them standing upright and provide power. Humans keep their balance using muscles in their shoulders, and the swinging of their arms gives extra momentum and balance. The head is held in place by special tendons on the sides of their necks, while their eyes and brains correct for the bouncing of their gait. Furthermore, while other animals require panting and shade to cool off, human sweat rolls into the skin and then evaporates, cooling them off as they move. In this way , humans are superior at long distance running and often used pursuit predation to run their prey to death before spearing them with tools they made (Dillinger, F., and Walker, P). While many animals on their planet are capable of throwing, humanity’s long legs and short arms gives them the superior balance required to throw hard without losing their balance giving them the advantage of long distance weapons. Coupled with tool making,, humans did not have to directly interact with much of the prey they were hunting.

During this time humans grew more socialized and pack oriented  As their brains got bigger, childbirth became more dangerous, and their offspring were forced to be born earlier and more underdeveloped than ever before. Packs grew in size as did family groups. Their ability to speak was probably one of their greatest accomplishments, though ironically, the drop of their larynx into their neck, which supported the transition to speaking, also made them more prone to choking (Huntsman, J,. Et. Al). As the climate on earth gradually began to change, humans moved north using their tools and abilities to survive in colder and colder climates. Different iterations of humanity formed, the Neanderthals VS the Sapiens for a time before the Neanderthals eventually merged with the Sapiens or died out. Humans gained the ability to bond with other animals -- a trick which only the Rundi have separately managed. In turn this sparked the rapid evolution of technology which eventually led them to space travel.

Humans may appear impressive to most outside alien species, but on their planet, domination came about only because of luck, and adaptability. Their evolution to walking on two feet was the catalyst for them being smart enough to out maneuver heavier and more dangerous species.

Now as we examine sentient species today, we can examine a few commonalities between the groups. The first being the ability to speak. No sentient species has evolved without some sort of communicatory language. The starborn can speak telepathically, and most other species vocally.  The lumens and the Mikes also communicate based on light frequencies, though these are still translatable into structural sentences if one knows what they are doing. Even the Adaptids have a very base and rudimentary speech which requires the use of smell (Krill, 4020).  Another common trait is hands or other limbs used for the manipulation of objects. While some aliens also developed the ability to stand upright on two legs: Drev, Tvek, Finnari, Gnark,lak, some retain that ability only partially: Rundi, Kree, while the vast majority require at least three or more limbs to stay upright using tails to balance or adding extra legs for stability: Tesraki, Vrul, Iotins Burg etc..Regardless of walking upright all of these creatures have the ability to manipulate objects to use tools.

The question now remains. Where do humans and other aliens stack up? The answer seems clear in that humans are not powerful because of their dominance in one specific area, but because humans are generalists where others are specialists. There is a human saying that goes along well with this research. Jack of all trades, the master of none, but better than the master of one. A general knowledge of everything seems to be the precursor for being the best survivalists. Let us examine intelligence first, as we know Rundi, Tesraki, burg and Drev are comparable to humans, which are all well behind Vrul and Gibb in average intelligence, though intelligence is one of the more difficult factors as intelligence is an important prerequisite to space travel (Kisk., Gana., Fuller., and Millward).  Humans are not the fastest, that goes to the Rundi, though they are the second fastest, and can arguably outdistance a Rundi in a footrace. Human hearing isn’t as good as a Tesraki, but better than most others just as their eyesight isn’t nearly as good as a Drev, but still much more powerful than others. Drev also take the main spot as being one of the strongest with humans closely behind. Smell is a relatively rare ability among nonhuman species, though the Drev have it to some degree. The Adaptids are known for their superior smelling ability, though it is arguable if they count as sentient just yet. Starborn can survive in space, which is an ability that no other nonhuman species has, accept for humans who can survive for about 15 seconds in the vacuum of space with damage: the only known case of this being of course Admiral Vir, who is as of now, the only human to have attempted this maneuver at all.

The argument we make here is not based primarily on human abilities, which seem second to all, but based primarily about how these interacted with their technological advances. Humans are the youngest species EVER to reach space, and that includes the Drev. In fact most humans still possess instincts which are often lacking in older sentient species, replaced by thought and logic. A human is still said to be able to sense danger before it comes, and can read body language better than any other sentient species currently known, which has much to do with the juvenile nature of their species. Furthermore, human durability is one of the greatest factors. 

The average human can stand about 5gs of force without passing out while trained humans can reach up to sustained 12gs. Most alien species on the other hand had to find ways to keep their craft below 4gs at all times in order to avoid passing out. Nonhumans spent much longer developing their technology before reaching space, while humans were busy strapping rockets to tin cans. A similar situation can be noted with the Drev, who can sustain 7 to 8gs if trained. Both of their species were allowed to leave their planet before fully developing out of their more primitive natures, as was common with other nonhuman or Drev species. In general, human and Drev durability have allowed them to operate machinery which would be too dangerous for other species, giving them a time advantage in the race to the stars.

At this point one might wonder if Drev are comparable to humans, after all Drev are stronger, more durable and just as intelligent as humans. This is true of course, but humans do have some strategic advantages, long distance running ability, pack bonding, and superior technology development, which might have been negated if it weren’t for the Drev religion which calls into question the nature of technology as dishonorable. Furthermore, though they can distinguish less colors than Drev, human sense of smell and hearing is stronger, giving them a distinct battlefield advantage in at least once sense as they are able to pinpoint the direction and height of sounds where Drev have trouble.

A discussion about the abilities of humans can go on all day, though the conclusion scientists have agreed upon focuses primarily on human adaptability and generalization skills as the primary function of their abilities, and seeming power over other species. It seems good then that human pack bonding instincts easly travels across species making them relatively easy to make alliances with compared to some other, more stubborn species. 

[myhauntedsalem]

THE STORY BEHIND SALEM’S HAUNTED WITCH HOUSE

Salem, Massachusetts was a very different place back in 1692. It was a dominant shipping port on the East Coast and home to a large Puritan community. A stark contrast to the bustling tourist destination Salem has become today, yet one thing that remains consistent is the town’s fascination with witchcraft.

Salem is indeed best known for the hysteria that dominated it in 1692, resulting in the Witch Trials that were to cause the deaths of many. The fear that Salem succumbed to was initially created by two young girls aged 9 and 11, the daughter and niece of the Reverend Samuel Parris. They had accused the family’s slave (Tituba) of witchcraft, after acting peculiarly and claiming they were under the spell of a witch.

This was the event that triggered the onset of many being accused of witchcraft. Tituba was one of the survivors, pleading guilty to the charges. Those who were to confess their innocence were not as lucky. The trials ran for a relatively short period, claiming the lives of 19 who were hanged for confessing their innocence. Excluding one man who was ‘pressed’ to death via a medieval torture technique of stacking heavy rocks atop the chest in an attempt to coax a confession out of him. Then there were countless more who were condemned to rot the rest of their lives away in a jail cell.

Although this horrific moment in history is Salem’s claim to fame and the main driver of the town’s tourism, there is only one remaining structure surviving that is linked to the Witch Trials. That structure is known as the Witch House.

Salem’s Witch House was never actually home to anyone accused of witchcraft. Its link to the trials comes from its former owner, Jonathan Corwin. Corwin was a judge who presided over many of Salem’s Witch Trials, which were directly responsible for sending 19 people to the gallows to face their deaths.

The house, rumored to be built in 1642, was the Corwin family home for many years through to the mid-1800s. Although not related to the actual Witch Trials, the home did see dramatic levels of death come through its doors. Many of those deaths were from members of the Corwin family.

Corwin moved to the Witch House with his wife Elizabeth, who already had four children with another man from her previous marriage. One of those children had already died and her 12-year-old daughter passed away shortly after moving into the residence.

Elizabeth would go on to bear more children, this time to Corwin. Many of these also met tragic ends, with 8 of the 10 children dying young before adulthood. The Corwin remained in the house, both dying in the late 1710s around the same time their remaining adult children passed.

Because of the many deaths associated with it, the Witch House is today thought to be one of the most haunted places in Salem. It has attracted many paranormal investigators over the years, including the famed television show Ghost Adventures. The spirits of deceased children are thought to exist within the property and have made themselves known to the living by touching them and projecting their voices. Sudden temperature drops and cold drafts gushing within rooms have also been experienced within the Witch House.

Salem’s famed Witch House today functions as a museum and is open to the public seasonally. It pays to check ahead of time whether it will be open during the time of your visit.

The museum details the involvement of the home in the Witch Trials, the lives of the Corwin family, and what life in Salem during the 1600s would have been like. The house has been restored to what it would have looked like during the time of the Witch Trials.

Salem is lucky to still have this time capsule of history, which was nearly destroyed along with many of the other properties linked to the Witch Trials. Locals lobbied to have the home saved, raising enough funds to move the house 30 feet and out of the path of construction. Do not miss out on the opportunity to experience this piece of old Salem history, whether you are a paranormal buff or just visiting Salem for the fun of Halloween.

[willowcrowned]

Okay but has anyone considered Obi-wan/Cody/Satien (is that how its spelled?) Regardless, hes got two hands for his two mandalorians, the au where this happend is gotta be top notch ridiculous ye?

Okay thank you so much for giving me a reason to think about this, because this AU contains three things I adore: polyamory, ships where everyone is frighteningly competent, and Obi-Wan

In this AU, Ventress is somehow even less well-adjusted (bear with me). What this means is that, instead of taking a gap year and finding herself after her family is brutally murdered, she decides she needs to get revenge even more now. What does this mean? In the short term, she still becomes a bounty hunter, but in the long run? She’s looking for a Sith lord team up so she can punch Dooku (with a lit lighstaber) in his stupid, elitist, backstabbing face.

So when Maul invades Mandalore, what happens? Ventress comes right along, ready to give her ‘I know we hate each other, but consider teaming up to kill someone we both hate even MORE’ space TED talk. And though Maul may be terribly annoying, a closet theater kid, always in a tits out kind of mood, and denying his gay awakening, he’s not stupid. He knows Sidious is coming for him, sooner rather than later, and he knows he needs more people on his side than his (impressively beefy) brother. He and Savage agree to the team-up.

Cue Obi-Wan showing up, ready to save his sort-of girlfriend, and finding Pre Vizsla, who got REAL sus the second ANOTHER lunatic with a red lightsaber showed up, occupied by capturing Maul, Savage, and Ventress. 

Obi-Wan saves Satie, who convinces him to call Cody for a quick evac, and they’re running away, flirting, and arguing over shooting things (as usual), when they spot Ventress, Maul, and Savage, about to be executed.

Oh, they both think, hell no. And then, because they have a stupid moral code that makes them do stupid moral things, they go save them.

A little background on Obi-Wan at this point: He has been fighting in a war for over two years. He is exhausted, close to a breakdown, and seriously questioning his place as a General. Next to him at all times, supporting him, helping him, and saving him, is Cody, who is clever, kinder than he has any right to be, and is, of course, devastatingly handsome when he does his special, unique-to-Cody half-smirk.

Obi-Wan, to put it mildly, is totally gone on him. Obi-Wan also, to put it less mildly, is his commanding officer in an army that Cody can’t leave on pain of death. To do anything— make any advance beyond the flirting that he engages in with most people— would put Cody in a very uncomfortable position, whether or not he returns Obi-Wan’s feelings. So Obi-Wan watches him from afar, hoping against hope that his affections are returned, and that one day, after the end of the war, there will be a future for both of them.

A little more background on Obi-Wan at this point: He has always respected Satine. Their correspondence fell apart just a few months after the end of his mission with Qui-Gon, but he’s been keeping up with her professional accomplishments for years. Over time, the love he bore for her faded, leaving him with good memories and an enduring appreciation for her courage, her cleverness, and her ability to deliver devastating blows to someone’s confidence with a few well-placed words.

Until he sees her again. And yes, alright, he might be angry that she’s choosing to stay out of the war— he knows what good she could do— but he understands her fears, understands the very real possibility that if Mandalore gets embroiled in yet another war, they may never recover. The thing is... well, she’s still very beautiful, especially when he’s yelling at him, and as slowly as his feelings had faded then, they come back in a rush now.

He has very much fallen in love with Cody, and he is very much still in love with Satine.

Cut back to the present— Obi-Wan and Satine rescue the three most annoying Sith in the galaxy and get the heck out of dodge. Cody, because he’s Cody, comes swooping in with a last-minute rescue.

At this point, two things are occurring.

The first: Obi-Wan is stuck in a room with four people he’s periodically flirted with over the past few years, two of whom he’s desperately in love with, one of whom he had a weird encounter with that he can never tell Anakin about when she and him got trapped in a middle school auditorium, and one of whom is definitely wearing no shirt and all that jewelry for a reason. It is Supremely awkward for him.

The second: Every single person in that room, each of which is (barring Savage) deeply attracted to Obi-Wan, is realizing that Obi-Wan is dressed in Mandalorian armor, and while Obi-Wan in three layers of tunics and a cloak is an absolute knockout, Obi-Wan in Mandalorian armor may very well kill them (and he won’t even have to touch his lightsaber to do it).

For one single moment, everything is absolutely still as they all stare at each other.

...And then Maul starts on the ‘I will rend your flesh from your bones, feel my wrath, Kenobarrgh’ spiel, and Satine stuns him. Oh, and Savage. Ventress agrees to watch the two of them if they don’t stun her, and Obi-Wan agrees.

Which then leaves him, Cody, and Satine in a room alone.

A word on Cody at this point: He has been bred from birth to be the perfect soldier— loyal, clever (but not too clever), and rigourously adherent to protocol. Yet, within three months of knowing Obi-Wan, he’s, well, calling him Obi-Wan in his head. Even just that is a gross breach of protocol, but he’s compromised in more ways than one. He talks to Obi-Wan, now, not just as a subordinate, or secondary advisor, but as a friend, as a councilor. Every time Obi-Wan touches him— never for longer than a brief second— his skin lights up under his armor. One time, Obi-Wan fell asleep on him for half an hour, and Cody’s was sure everyone would hear his heartbeat. 

What he’s doing— how he feels— he knows it’s putting Obi-Wan in danger, knows that if the Kaminoans had wanted to the clones to be equals to the Jedi, they would have told them so. And look, he knows what the natborns would call the way he’s feeling, but he can’t feel that way. He’s a clone— he’s expendable by definition. Even if, on some off-chance, he makes it out of this war alive, there’s nothing for him. Obi-Wan couldn’t care for him like that, couldn’t care for a man with the same face as millions of others, born and bred only for war. So it doesn’t matter how he feels.

A word on Satine at this point: Obi-Wan, when he left, was a gawkish, bumbling thing of red hair and freckles and the sweetest smile. Obi-Wan, when he came back, was graceful, eloquent, and very, very handsome. He is also infuriating. (This does not change how attracted she is to him in the least.)

She’s not a romantic, really, but she is a realist, and she knows she’s loved him in some form or another for over twenty years. She knows she can’t ask him to return it— knows that asking him to leave the order for her wouldn’t just be for her, it would be for Mandalore, and while the politician in her cries for her to claim him, the person in her who loves Obi-Wan could not abide tearing him away from his culture for her own purposes. She still loves him, deeply and irrevocably, and she knows he still loves her. (Maybe, she thinks, after the war... But she can’t afford to be sentimental).

What do Cody and Satine have in common? They’re both extremely competent, both instinctively ruthless, and they both love Obi-Wan. Oh, and they’re also both immediately jealous of their counterpart.

They know they shouldn’t be. They know it’s not fair, not when Obi-Wan isn’t theirs anyways, but it doesn’t change the surge of envy and dislike that happens when they see Obi-Wan use the soft voice he only uses for the people he likes best on the person across from them.

Cody knows he can never compare to the Duchess, who is beautiful and well-spoken and has held Obi-Wan’s heart since they were fifteen. Satine knows she can never compare to Cody, who has been at Obi-Wan’s side every second since the war’s beginning, who is so much closer in ideals to Obi-Wan than she is, however it might appear on the surface.

Fortunately, they don’t have to deal with it for long, because Ventress comes in with Maul and Savage and proposes a team up, at which point Maul reveals the identity of the Sith Master.

Obi-Wan swears a string of words that Cody and Satine are both very impressed by, and agrees to the team up. Cody and Satine, who are both going to Coruscant anyways, agree to it too.

What ensues is a good deal of scheming, during which Cody and Satine avoid each other like the plague, Obi-Wan is repeatedly told to get some sleep, and Ventress cuffs Maul to a door on multiple nonconsecutive occasions. When they get to Coruscant, Satine has already told Padmé, who has in turn told her group of anti-war (and anti-Palpatine) senators, Cody has given Rex a heads up, and Ventress, Maul, and Savage have been metaphorically sharpening their lightsabers for ages.

(It occurs to Obi-Wan, at one point, after he’s woken up from his enforced 25-hour nap, that Palpatine must have created the clone army for a reason— must have a failsafe in place— and he asks Ahsoka to pull all the data the Kaminoans have on the clones. They find out about the chips, and Ahsoka immediately immediately holds the Kaminoans at laser sword point until they reprogram every order into a command that dissolves the chip.)

The thing about organizing a coup together is that it makes it very hard to avoid each other. Cody and Satine are forced to work together, and, what do you know, it turns out that even with seething jealousy at work, they end up respecting each other. (Note: Obi-Wan comes into a room at one point to see them both bent over a commlink, heads together and hands nearly touching. He short circuits.)

In any case, coup, Palps dies, Republic fixed, whatever.

What’s important is that Obi-Wan gets really, really injured— so much so that he might die. Cody and Satine have dealt with him being dead before (Deception arc anyone?), but this? Watching him slowly fade, knowing there’s nothing they can do about it? That’s worse.

One night, when Anakin has fallen asleep, they have a long conversation in low voices about Obi-Wan, darting from fond to furious to devastated over and over again. If he wakes up— if, not when— they agree to say something to Obi-Wan, to let him know that they love him. It’s a meager consolation after all they’ve been through, but this is the end, in one way or another, and they deserve to be honest with him.

(Cody thinks, privately, that he will be— well, not tossed aside, because Obi-Wan isn’t the sort of person who does that, but there won’t be a place for him by Obi-Wan’s side anymore. Obi-Wan is a Jedi, a negotiator, a peacekeeper, and Cody is a soldier for a now-ended war. He is already steeling himself to accept Obi-Wan’s polite rejection with equanimity, to not cause more pain to the man. (It will be easy, he knows, to wish him every peace, every happiness. Cody has only ever wanted to see Obi-Wan happy. This does not mean it will not be painful.) Obi-Wan said once that he would have left the Order for Satine if she’d asked— she will ask, now, and Cody knows Obi-Wan will leave, can see the love written in his face, in his spine, in his hands, whenever he is around her. Satine will ask, and Obi-Wan will leave, and Cody will be left to look for a place in this new galaxy.)

(Satine thinks, privately, that Obi-Wan’s feelings for her must be long faded, replaced by his obvious ones for Cody. Obi-Wan is a warrior, a Knight, and Satine is a diplomat who foreswore violence long ago. She is already steeling herself to accept his rejection with grace. (It will be easy, she knows, to wish him well. She has only ever wanted good things for him. This does not mean it will not be painful.) He said once that he would have left the Order for her if she’d asked, and whatever he’d felt then for her pales to what he feels now for Cody. Cody will ask, and Obi-Wan will leave, and Satine will rule as she always has.)

And then Obi-Wan wakes up.

Cody and Satine let him have his long talk with Anakin first, partially because they know how important it is to him, partially because Anakin wouldn’t let them if they wanted to, and partially because they are dreading their own coming conversation. When Anakin has finished, and Obi-Wan is asleep again, they go in, hand-in-hand, and wait for him to wake up.

When he does wake up, he sees them holding hands and immediately comes to several wrong conclusions. Wrong Conclusion A: Cody and Satine are in love. Wrong Conclusion B: Cody and Satine are going to try to break the news that they’re in love to him gently. Wrong Conclusion C: This conversation is about to break his heart.

Then they speak.

At the end of it, Obi-Wan has some Thoughts. Thought One: alkdfjhskhsgjljlbhkgkjbjvnab,gkjvn;qlerghjsv?????!!!!fwbfwlkrehwogwhuwrijvhfdbhkf!!!! Thought Two: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! Thought Three: Oh, we’re all idiots. Fantastic. 

He then passes out, because being on the edge of death for days and then having a shock to your system this big tends to do that to you.

When he wakes up, he is mildly more coherent. Then he sees that Satine and Cody are asleep on each other, and the coherence is lost, but he does manage to wake them up and get across three things:

Thing One: He is desperately in love with them both.

Thing Two: He’s leaving the Order for a multitude of reasons, but they are a Significant Bonus.

Thing Three: He would very much like if they both held his hand while he falls back asleep.

Cody takes Obi-Wan’s right hand, Satine takes Obi-Wan’s left hand, and the three of them stay like that, fingers intertwined, for a long, long, while.

[buryyourfavouritestrope]

Until it becomes a Memory - Daisuke Kambe

Author Note: This is a pile of Word Vomit, I watched Balance Unlimited and man I adored it. Especially this Salty Winter Adult. None of the below makes coherent sense but hey, life's too short to leave things unread by others.

Everyone who had ever visited the Kambe residence to speak to the heir knew about the painting. Often enough they found themselves stood beside the young man whose eyes focused only on the putrid baby blues that encircles a deep red misshapen figure. Many, in hushed whispers, had commented on how out of place the canvas seemed amongst the elegant wooden décor of the home.

It hung just outside his bedroom in a hallway trodden by very few. He, himself, had placed a chair opposite it for when he found himself unable to sleep. He’d sit there staring at the figure until he succumbed to sleep. Suzue would find him the next morning, curled against the chair, his head leaning on the crook of his arm. She’d suggested once that he move the canvas to his bedroom, only to be thrown a grim look and a sarcastic comment. It kept the nightmares at bay.

Kambe couldn’t blame her; it’s what any normal person would do. He couldn’t. He despised the painting. Everyone did, including his grandmother. The woman refused to enter the hallway, not until the painting disappeared. She’d even so much as asked their faithful servant to dispose of it whilst Kambe was busy – his attempt had failed thanks to Suzue. Perhaps one of the only people within Daisuke’s household that understood the importance hidden within the canvas.

His grandmother held no harmful intent; she just wanted to purge that period from Daisuke’s life. The man had suffered so much at a young age. There had been times where she would plead at the dinner table with the young detective. Her words reaching deaf ears as he chewed on his noodles. When her words hit too close to home, he quips a witty retort paired with a sarcastic growl. In those moments she could see his mother.

The painting held no real value. It was common knowledge. Suzue and his grandmother would have said something about it had it not been for the glint in Kambe’s usually dull eyes. A spark of fight and something none of them have ever seen before as he runs his gaze over every streak of paint. That very spark prevents them to speaking and instead they leave the man be.

A sigh relieves itself from Daisuke as he stands from his seat; he took a few strides forward his eyes never once leaving the soft brush strokes that had dried against the material. Kambe rubbed the sleep from his vision as he reminisced. He could still feel the fingers that wrapped around his upper arm and pulled him through the corridors of his home. The sound of overexcited laughter echoed in the aged wood wrapped around his heart squeezing at vary degrees of strength.

‘These cases just get more complicated, I thought it would be easier than this but every time I think I’m making progress something stops me’ Daisuke’s voice contrasted with the oozing silence surrounding him. ‘You’d know exactly what to do if you were here. I can picture it now-‘

‘Kambe’ Haru barked; the sudden appearance of his partner startled Daisuke. This had been expected, at some point Haru would turn up back here. An unjust anger in tow as he marched down the corridor. The embassy case had been closed, but Haru had come under fire for the death of a suspect, Daisuke had done nothing to help the older man. It hadn’t just been due to the fact he was off duty; he’d chosen to remain quiet.

Kambe’s eye twitched, his focus returning to the painting. If he remained quiet, let Haru vent, perhaps the detective inspector would leave. He’d be able to return to the serenity that had been his thoughts. If his friend had been here, they’d have persuaded Haru to calm down, they’d have laughed and shared some food at the expense of Kambe. They always handled people better than he did.

‘Hey, are you listening?’ Haru practically screamed as he stepped closer to Kambe; Daisuke remained firm. There was nothing he needed to speak to Kato about. He was handling this – whatever the bigger picture is. He’d handle it alone; it was safer that way. The fewer people around, the easier it would be. ‘Damn Rich kid, pay attention to people when they speak to you’

He didn’t need to see what was happening, he felt it. Haru’s balling around the material of his shirt in an aggressive attempt to grab Daisuke’s attention. Briefly – very briefly – Daisuke’s eyes flicked to look at Haru. In that second the world froze, Daisuke’s emotionless eyes, often filled with amusement, turned to Haru. As if Haru’s arms moved on their own he dropped Daisuke, his hands falling at his side.

‘I have nothing I wish to discuss, you should leave’ Daisuke commanded. The very sound of his voice knocked the older man from his shock, a guttural growl resonating in the air as he flung his arm back.

Everything slowed in that minute; Kato’s limbs swam leisurely through the air as Daisuke’s gaze flicked back to his partner. It hadn’t fully registered in Kambe’s mind as he watched helplessly. They both knew it hadn’t been Kato’s intention; he hadn’t registered how close he was to the wall.

It was an accident. It was an accident. A voice in Daisuke’s subconscious spoke the same four words like a mantra as he seethed. In an apoplectic haze he grabbed his senior. Kato’s body unbalanced fell against the air, unable to steady himself to fight back he let himself be thrown into the opposite wall. His head colliding with the wooden windowsill.

‘You weren’t invited here Detective Inspector Kato. You’re trespassing, I suggest you leave’ Daisuke growled; both heard the sharp inhale of Suzue as she rushed through the door at the end of the corridor. Her gaze observing the two men, her family who stood towering over Haru with fists balled at his side – his attention solely on the man and Haru who lifted himself against the wall, it was clear as he staggered slightly that the impact had made him dizzy.

‘Daisuke’ She uttered, Kambe clenched his jaw inhaling deeply as he turned around. The canvas hung at an angle; the material had been punctured. For the smallest second, he chastised his friend’s choice in canvas material.

‘It’s just a painting. Buy a new one. A rich kid like you always flaunting your wealth. Surely you can buy another one.’ Haru whistled. Kambe didn’t need to look to picture the Suzue’s reaction. A pleading expression plastered across her face as she moved closer to help Haru.

A rich kid like you. Daisuke finds himself repeating the short phrase. It had been said to Kambe before – plenty of times before and yet this time it struck him worse. For once he couldn’t throw money at the canvas. The damage had been done; money couldn’t solve his problem the way it could on a case. A soft chuckle rang through the air. Daisuke placed his head in his hands as he fell to his knees.

‘I wouldn’t expect you to understand,’ He admits, ‘I didn’t buy that canvas, it was a gift. One given to me by someone very dear to me. I guess you say it had no monetary value. It held some precious memories’ He continued.

‘You asked me how much I care about you, well…tah dah’ her voice bounced off the walls and rang through his ears. He relished in the happy tones as she released his arm. A quizzical look filled the man’s expression as he took in her appearance. Paint plastered across her skin, hair dishevelled and caked in the same colours that covered most of her clothing.

Once he’d had his fill, he followed her gaze, eyes widening as he took in the newest decoration. In place of his landscape portrait hung a horrendous mixture of colours and in the centre stood a deep burgundy figure and for a second, he hoped she hadn’t drawn a reflection of himself

‘Well?’ She questioned.

‘It’s awful, breathtakingly awful. I’d go as far as to say gut-wrenching,’ Daisuke commented. He listened to her as she roared with laughter, her hands holding her sides as she doubled over.

‘That’s exactly it. I care about you so much that its gut wrenching. Every moment I spend with you takes my breathe away in the most horrendously beautiful way.’ She announced, as she calmed her laughter she reached for his arm, her head falling against his shoulder as they both observed the horrendous decoration. ‘Plus, every home needs at least one ugly piece of furniture, something that just absorbs the good memories and no matter how long you look at it, no matter how much you hate it, it’ll remind you of the good things, it’ll remind you how much I love you, Daisuke Kambe’

Daisuke’s fingers wrapped around hers as he remained silent. Just the two of them watching the painting as though it were some priceless portraits in a museum.

‘You never know how important something is until it becomes a memory’ Kambe uttered.

‘Kambe,’ Haru’s voice shook Daisuke from his memories. His hands falling to his lap as he listened.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Tedious Joys - Chapter 8 - END

- Ao3 link -

“You’re not going to like what we’ve decided,” Lao Nie said.

Lan Qiren could have guessed that from the way that the other man had marched into the room and promptly used Lan Qiren’s thigh as a pillow, primarily, Lan Qiren suspected, because he didn’t want to have to look Lan Qiren in the face.

It was a common tactic of his these days. The Nie clan had always been inclined towards tactile behavior and a certain lack of personal boundaries – personal information was too much to share, but apparently bodies were free game – and Lao Nie had very quickly transitioned from embarrassment to taking advantage of his newfound dependency on regular physical contact with Lan Qiren. Much to Lan Qiren’s relief, they had managed, with some experimenting and considerable effort on all parts involved, for Lao Nie to form a bond directly with the jade pendant. Now, as long as he carried the pendant, he was able to be by himself for a shichen or so without experiencing any degradation in his mental state – and that, in turn, enabled them both to separate and allowed them both some measure of privacy.

Unfortunately, after that shichen was over, Lao Nie would begin to become irritable and irrational again, his eyes slowly becoming bloodshot as the rage and resentful energy contained now wholly within him, rather than in the jade – in Jiwei, rather – began to need to be excised. Exercise and cultivation with a heavy training saber helped slow the effects, as did Lan Qiren’s musical efforts to calm and clear his mind, but Lao Nie’s cultivation was simply too high for it to last for very long. It was as if half his meridians had vanished overnight and yet he continued to cultivate as he did before; it was as if his dominant arm had been abruptly cut off, and yet he instinctively continued to try to do everything he previously could. He needed his saber to complete even a standard circulation of his qi, and short of suppressing his spiritual energy entirely (another experiment that met with some limited success, getting them another two shichen of time apart if they really needed it, but which was not a long-term solution given the unfortunate side effects), he had to have access to it.

Currently, that access was through Lan Qiren.

“If you’re warning me in advance, I’m quite certain that I won’t like it,” he said mildly, continuing to play uninterrupted. He wasn’t cultivating anything at the moment – the piece he was working on was actually a refinement of the music he’d inadvertently created in his grief at Cangse Sanren’s death, the one that had made his normally very stable nephews burst into tears, and he didn’t want to add spiritual energy to it until he’d worked out exactly how he wanted it to go. He reached an appropriate stopping place, noted down a few revisions to the score, and put his guqin aside. “You should tell me about it regardless.”

Lao Nie exhaled. “Well, good news first – the smiths have finally finished conferring and they’ve concluded that they believe it’s possible to try reforging Jiwei, so they’re willing to give it a try.”

“Good,” Lan Qiren said. He hadn’t really understood the spiritual weaponsmiths’ reluctance on the subject, but he respected their expertise as craftsmen, just as they respected his as a musician. “Once the saber has been remade, I can reestablish the resonance between them and, in theory, Jiwei should be able to use that pathway to return - and with greater ease, as she would be returning to her more familiar self.”

“Not that easy, unfortunately,” Lao Nie said regretfully. “Jiwei was shattered. To remake the blade, they will need to – for want of a better explanation – melt her down and start entirely afresh. It will be like having a wholly different saber, albeit with the same metal that she’s used to.”

Lan Qiren frowned.

“There, you see the issue. If it’s a new saber, the familiarity will be absent. We will need to work on reestablishing the resonance the way we did with the pendant, and that means –”

“Slowly.” Lan Qiren’s frown deepened. It had taken him years to establish that initial resonance, and knowing how it was done could only reduce the process by so much. “That is indeed a problem. I cannot stay here as long as that would take. In all truth, I am surprised that I have not already been summoned back by my sect…”

“Oh, you have,” Lao Nie said cheerfully. “A-Jue burned the letters and told the messengers to fuck off.”

Lan Qiren’s jaw dropped. “He did what?!”

“Did we not say? You’ve officially been kidnapped! Well, no, really it’s more of a hostage exchange situation, since they have A-Sang with them…oh, don’t look so horrified, Qiren,” Lao Nie said, starting to laugh. “Your sect elders have indicated that no offense was taken, under the circumstances.”

“Circumstances?!” Lan Qiren spluttered a little. “You’re not serious! What circumstances could justify one sect kidnapping another sect’s sect leader, acting or otherwise?!”

Lao Nie stopped laughing, the sound cutting off as if he’d been choked. “Yes, well,” he said, closing his eyes. “That’s the part you’re really not going to like.”

Lan Qiren determinedly prodded at Lao Nie’s shoulder until the other man, grumbling, sat up and took a proper seat so that they could have this discussion face-to-face. Their knees remained touching, which was good enough, and about all that the scoundrel deserved at the moment.

“Explain,” Lan Qiren ordered, and Lao Nie dipped his head into a nod.

“There are several relevant points,” he said crisply, dropping into the familiar pattern of a report. “First, Hanhan has clearly decided that he wants me dead –”

“Must you?” Lan Qiren interjected, even though he had not meant to interrupt.

“Oh, I must.” Lao Nie’s eyes were flinty. “He decided that if he couldn’t have me – and no one said he couldn’t, except his own paranoia – that if he couldn’t, no one could, and I’m not about to forgive him for that, don’t worry. But he’s still my Hanhan, my A-Han, underneath all his madness, and for my own sake, I’m not going to let anyone, whether him or me, forget it. No matter how necessary, some things have to hurt, and to their fullest extent...However, that’s not what’s relevant now. May I continue?”

Lan Qiren nodded.

“He wants me dead,” Lao Nie said, resuming his narrative. “Now that he tried once, he may try again, and I currently lack the capability to defend myself – the doctors, and you, have all agreed that I should avoid any excessive use of qi, and fighting a battle with a saber that isn’t Jiwei is a recipe for disaster in the best of times. I can’t exactly swing the pendant around, can I? Moreover, it may take years for us to establish the resonance, re-transfer Jiwei, and for me to re-familiarize myself with the new saber.”

Lan Qiren did not like the way this was going.

“There’s also the matter that I can’t be without physical contact with you for extended periods of time, and you of course have your responsibility to your sect,” Lao Nie continued. “Kidnapping you is, at best, a temporary fix. We will need something more permanent, and your sect elders have already indicated that they won’t let you marry out until your nephews are grown – and obviously we can’t wait that long, even assuming you’d want to marry me.”

Lan Qiren opened his mouth.

“Don’t say that you’d be willing to make the sacrifice to marry me, because even if you would, I wouldn’t. Putting aside the fact that you wouldn’t be happy leaving the Cloud Recesses and as much as I adore you, having been married before, I’m quite certain that I only want to marry my lovers, thank you.”

Lan Qiren had, in fact, been about to make an offer just like that, but he kept his mouth shut. They could discuss it at length at a later point.

“In short, the best solution to all of these problems, therefore, appears to be to allow events to play out as Hanhan would have wanted: for me to die.”

“You cannot be serious!” Lan Qiren exclaimed, abruptly furious. “After all the effort we put into saving your life, you would just throw it away?”

Lao Nie held up his hands. “Forgive me, I spoke unwisely – ‘do not take your words lightly’, right?”

Lan Qiren was usually very easily distracted by the mention of the Lan sect rules, but he resisted the temptation and glared.

“I didn’t mean I’d actually die,” Lao Nie said, and Lan Qiren’s shoulders relaxed a little. “Only that that would be the story we put out to the world. The process has already begun – that’s why your sect elders aren’t kicking up a fit about A-Jue being so rude to them about refusing to return you.”

“They think he’s in mourning,” Lan Qiren realized. “Whether actual, or merely preemptive.”

He could see how it might appear that way: Nie Mingjue showing up late in the evening, depositing a shaken and terrified Nie Huaisang, using up all the medical supplies in Lan Qiren’s personal possession, and then asking Lan Qiren to return home with him…

Due to Lan Qiren’s friendship with Lao Nie, Nie Mingjue had grown up especially close to the Lan sect; Lan Qiren had been his teacher, and in the end he was only fifteen, even if most people didn’t know that. Even in a world where Lao Nie could not have been saved, he might have refused to let Lan Qiren go home so quickly, seeking comfort from the sole familial authority, however informally constituted, that he had remaining.

“But Lao Nie,” Lan Qiren said slowly. “If you are supposedly dead, then Mingjue will need to become sect leader.”

Lao Nie grimaced, but nodded.

He’d been right about one thing, at least: Lan Qiren did not like what the Nie sect had decided.

He didn’t like it one bit.

“You know what that will do to him,” he said. He himself knew it better than anyone.

“I do,” Lao Nie confirmed, looking pained. “But it’s the best out of a short list of very bad options. If I stay on as sect leader in my current state, someone will kill me – probably Hanhan, but maybe someone else, one of the many small sects that have ambitions of taking the Nie sect’s place – and if that happens, A-Jue will have to become sect leader in truth, without my support. At least this way, I can act as an advisor, aid him with paperwork…that sort of thing.”

As much as Lan Qiren would have liked to argue, he didn’t have a good rebuttal to that.

Lao Nie’s position within the Nie sect was as secure as anything, and the Nie sect’s position as a Great Sect was nearly as unshakable, but there were always smaller sects looking to see whether that could change. If he were known to be so critically weakened...Wen Ruohan might not even need to kill him personally. He’d just need to wait.

And the rest was true, too. There were many things Lao Nie could do from a distance - his month at the Lan sect had shown that much - and having someone reliable to turn to for advice and hard choices was the ideal sort of transition for a new sect leader.

Still, the sect conferences alone would be horrifying, and those Lao Nie would not be able to aid Nie Mingjue with, even if he could help with all the rest.

He hated it.

But he couldn’t argue against it.

“Moreover, without the bulk of the responsibilities of sect leader on my shoulders, I’ll have more opportunity to focus on healing.”

That was true as well. Lao Nie had been hurt very deeply by Jiwei’s destruction. His cultivation had fallen, his usual cultivation pathway denied to him, his trust in his own mental well-being betrayed…in an ideal world, Lan Qiren would recommend seclusion for a few months, maybe even a year, for him to focus on reestablishing his connection with himself, re-centering his foundation so that he could climb up once more. But for a sect leader, that was impossible.

“Very well,” Lan Qiren said, although he made sure by his tone to make clear how much he disapproved. “I understand the basis for your decision.”

“I thought you might.”

“There’s only one flaw I see with your plan.”

“Oh?”

Lan Qiren folded his hands together in front of him. “You still need me, don’t you? Even with the excuse of mourning, Nie Mingjue can only request my presence for so long before the demands of my sect become paramount over their respect for his filial piety and grief.”

“Oh, we’ll let you go back eventually,” Lao Nie said with a shrug. “And I’d go with you.”

Lan Qiren had been expecting that. “And how exactly do you intend to keep the story of your death intact if you’re living with me at the Cloud Recesses? Even if we increase your tolerance such that you can stay home at all times, my home is often visited by my students, including those from other sects – and while there may be a rule against talking behind people’s backs, it is one of the most commonly broken.”

Lao Nie winced in a way that suggested both that he had thought of an answer to that question and also that Lan Qiren was going to hate it.

“Whatever you say, I cannot dislike it more than A-Jue becoming sect leader at fifteen,” Lan Qiren pointed out.

“I don’t know about that,” Lao Nie said. “Given that to this day you despise the smell of gentians.”

Lan Qiren’s brain came to an abrupt halt.

“Absolutely not,” he said.

“Qiren…”

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s a good solution,” Lao Nie argued. “No one in your sect goes to that house – most of them don’t even know it exists! It’s within a short walking distance of your home, protected by arrays to enhance silence and protect privacy…”

“I am not locking you in He Kexin’s place!” Lan Qiren bellowed.

“You wouldn’t be locking me anywhere,” Lao Nie said, for once the reasonable and calm one in the face of Lan Qiren’s fury. “I would be going willingly, and I would be free to leave at any time. You’re not your brother, Qiren, and I’m not He Kexin – not least of which because I’m neither capable of nor interested in bearing two sons for you as a means of passing the time.” He paused, tilting his head to the side. “A bit of a pity, that. I’m sure they’d be cute.”

Lan Qiren rolled his eyes at him, although the reassurance and humor had helped douse the worst of his terror at the mere idea. Irritatingly, it was a good solution: he had made the trek to He Kexin’s home hundreds of times and no one had ever raised any questions. In the unlikely event that they did so now, he could claim he was merely tending to the garden to maintain it for his nephews; more likely, however, they would simply not notice – the path between the two locations was short and purposefully discrete.

“You’ll need someone to clean the place,” he pointed out. “Even He Kexin had servants, and if you don’t want anyone from the Lan sect finding out about it…”

“I have some servants that are loyal to me personally, and which are not Nie sect disciples,” Lao Nie said. “They can seek employment at the Cloud Recesses on the basis that they didn’t want to remain here after I’d gone – literally true, if you think about it in a certain light. Your sect would snatch them up in a heartbeat.”

They would, too, even without Lan Qiren interfering: properly trained servants who knew how to serve cultivators were a precious commodity that often had to be raised up from a young age or recruited with great caution from the ranks of rogue cultivators, and ones with the skills and experience that came from serving at another Great Sect were even more valued than most. And once they were part of the Cloud Recesses, there would be no difficulty in Lan Qiren adding the task of caring for He Kexin’s house to their list of duties.

“It’s a good plan,” he finally conceded, and Lao Nie sniggered.

“You look as though you’ve bitten into a lemon, Qiren. Did it hurt to say?”

“It hurt to think,” he retorted, and turned back to his guqin. “Will you visit my brother while you’re there? He might enjoy hearing your voice and knowing that you are close.”

Lao Nie had always refused in the past, and he shook his head now. “Not all of us are as forgiving as you, Qiren. Qingheng-jun made his choices.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“He makes them again every day,” Lao Nie disagreed. “He may have declared that he would stay in seclusion for the rest of his life to make amends, but that was his decision. He could break his oath and come out, do the right thing, but he doesn’t want to.”

It was an old argument, and an unproductive one. Lan Qiren shook his head, signaling that he would no longer engage.

He had other things to be concerned with, and would for some time. There was helping with Lao Nie’s recovery, creating the new resonance, playing calming music for him, keeping his secret; he would also need to help support Nie Mingjue as much as possible during his transition to sect leader, whether through correspondence and advice or through active intervention during the discussion conferences. He would need to manage his nephews, who he had taught so carefully not to lie, and yet they would need to learn to keep this secret, too.

Taking care of Lao Nie would also be an additional set of duties, on top of being sect leader and being a teacher and being himself, but Lan Qiren didn’t mind it.

It wouldn’t be so bad, actually, now that he thought of it without prejudice. To have someone close by to take tea with in the afternoons when his nephews were too busy and it wasn’t the right time of year for students, someone with whom he could speak on any range of subjects, including his occasional frustrations with his sect, stories about his students, the political troubles of the day – a friend close by, rather than at a distance. Someone who would probably encourage him to take more exercise than he usually did, to try things outside of his comfort zone, someone who would listen to his ideas on music or the rules without judgment, someone who would share his burdens and support him…it would be a little like having a wife, but without all the inconvenient aspects that he so thoroughly disliked.

“It’s not too bad, as such things go,” Lao Nie said, his thoughts clearly moving along a similar line as Lan Qiren’s. “Whatever the world thinks, I’ll be the first Nie sect leader to live to enjoy a retirement, however premature.”

This was true.

“I’ll miss my boys, of course,” Lao Nie added. “But I’ll write, and you can invite A-Sang to your lectures when he’s old enough. A-Jue can come visit you, sect leader to sect leader…I wouldn’t be the first father to only see his children a few times a year.”

“Nie Huaisang will probably fail my classes,” Lan Qiren said, having been acquainted with the individual in question for some time now. A clever child, even very clever, but he was also lazy, hated reciting facts, and was as stubborn as a rock – as stubborn as his father. “You’ll probably have the joy of him for several summers in a row.”

Lao Nie smiled.  

“Well, I can’t say this was what I expected when I wrote to you for help all those years ago,” he joked, leaning down and playing with the jade token that now hung from his belt rather than Lan Qiren’s. Wen Ruohan would probably have a fit if he ever saw it – indeed, Lan Qiren was already looking forward to that day in the future, however distant, where Lao Nie would regain his saber and his former strength and re-emerge to make his feelings on the subject of Wen Ruohan’s actions clear. “But I’m still glad you came.”

“As am I, my friend,” Lan Qiren said. “As am I.”

[avengerscompound]

Until the End of the World - 18

Until the End of the World: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count:  2763

Rating:  E

Warnings: pregnancy, labor, induction without consent, forced medical proceedures, mentions of forced pregnancy, action, violence, death

Synopsis: Four years after Steve and Bucky got to the bottom of the HYDRA conspiracy that had led to you and your son being hunted for the first three years of his life, you, Bucky, and Steve have carved out a nice life together.  Things are calm and you feel like a family unit.  When Geo starts calling Bucky and Steve ‘dad’, a decision is made to try and add to your family.

Things aren’t as calm as they seem.  When your pregnancy hits the papers, HYDRA rears its head once again, and Steve and Bucky need to track you down to protect the family they had created

Chapter 18

You had sent Geo back to his bed with his instructions.  You didn’t think you could get out of here with him without getting caught.  Yes, he could open all the doors for you, but there were still guards, and you had no idea where you were.  The risk was just too high.  Not to mention, that if Viper had been telling the truth, there were other people here who were being experimented on again.  If you could get Steve, Bucky, and the rest of the Avengers here, then that was the best option for everyone. You hoped Geo could do as you asked; if you could send a message to the tower - however primitive it was - you trusted that FRIDAY could work out that it was Geo sending it.

You slept badly.  The bench was hard and uncomfortable, and they had provided no blankets or pillows.  That teamed with the stress of you and Geo being captured, and how close you were to your due date, you were uncomfortable and highly wound.  Even with the lack of sleep, a group of HYDRA guards still managed to startle you awake the following day.

They had no concern about treating you gently in your heavily pregnant state.  They didn’t even shake you awake, so much as march into the room, grab your arm, and drag you out of bed and down the hall.  You had trouble walking and you stumbled down the bright white hall as they dragged you along with them.

You were brought to a room with a hospital bed and a lot of medical equipment, as well as a sterile-looking sofa chair and a clear plastic bassinet and incubator.  It looked like a delivery room in a hospital that cared nothing for the comfort of the mother.  Viper was waiting there with a group of medical staff dressed in green scrubs.

“What’s going on?  Where’s Geo?”  You asked.

“Geo is safe,” Viper assured you.  “And we’ve decided we’re going to induce labor.  Staying in this location is risky, so within the week we’re going to move you.  We figured if we move you and your children separately, you’ll be less likely to try and draw attention to yourself when we inevitably see other people.”

“I’m not due yet,” you argued. 

“It’s not ideal, I know,” Viper said as the guards muscled you onto the bed and strapped you down.  “But it’s close enough.  We did consider just cutting that little thing out of you, but they said this way would be safest.  Don’t make me change my mind.”

One of the medical staff inserted a cannula into your arm and another began doing an internal examination as two of the guards held your legs apart.  You tried to fight them, but there were just too many of them.

“Don’t worry though, dear,” Viper said.  “We decided to help keep you calm you’re going to have an old friend here to help you with your labor.  A birthing partner.  That’s what they call them isn’t it?”

You looked at her wild-eyed, completely confused, and panicked.  You had no idea why she was doing this.  If they really wanted the baby out, a c-section would be quicker.  Though you guessed, with the surgical recovery time it would be harder to move you unnoticed.  The whole thing just felt like mind games though.  Like she was trying to show you exactly what kind of control she had over you, both your mind and your body.

There was a pop and a gush of water between your legs as the doctor broke your waters and you began to cry.  “Why are you doing this to me?”

She patted your cheek.  “Consider it your payment for evading us for so long, and destroying my whole operation,” she said.  “Or at least a down payment.  I don’t plan to make anything easy for you.”

She tapped your cheek again and strode to the door.  Just as she reached it, she turned and looked at one of the doctors.  “If she behaves, you can let her up, but if she does anything to mess with this labor, strap her down again.”

“Yes, Madame HYDRA,” he said, saluting.

She left the room and the doctors went back to fussing around you.  They put monitors on you that seemed to track both yours and the baby’s heart rate.  When they seemed to be done most left without a word.  One doctor remained.  He had a sharp face and dead eyes.  “If I let you up, will you behave?”  He asked.  “I warn you, if you take any of this off, you’re risking the life of that baby.”

You nodded.  “I’ll behave,” you agreed.

Your restraints were unfastened.  There are guards at the door, not that you can get out,” he said.  “And you are being monitored on cameras all over the room.  Behave and we’ll be in to check on you regularly.” 

As he left a woman was led in.  She looked like a wild animal that had been caught in a trap.  Her hair was lank and didn’t look like it had been brushed in weeks and her hollow eyes looked around wildly.  She was wearing a simple floral nightgown and in her arms was an infant that couldn’t have been more than a few days old.  It took you a moment to realize you knew her.  She had been in the medical trials back when you were in college.  “Azi?”  You said.

She turned to look at you startled, furrowing her brow as she assessed you.  “Oh my god,” she said and rushed to your side.  “Oh my god!  What are you doing here? I didn’t know they had you too.”

“How long have you been here, Azi?”  You asked.

She shook her head.  “I don’t know.  A long time. I don’t know.  They came right after the trial ended.  I wasn’t pregnant then.  Now I have a baby.  They move us.”

“Oh my god,” you said, wrapping your arm around her.  “Come, sit down.”

You led her to the sofa chair and she sat, cradling the baby.  It fussed a little but fell back to sleep as its mother held it close.  “Azi, what did they do to you?”

“They took me… and some of the others in the test,” she said.  “They’re all dead now…” her eyes snapped up to you.

“They’ve been chasing me.  This is all my fault,” you said.  A dull pain throbbed out from your back and sides, and you winced and gripped the IV stand.  Azi looked up at you alarmed.

“Are you in labor?”  She asked.

You nodded.  “They just induced me.”

“Did they… did they …?”  She asked.

You shook your head.  “No.  No… I think they were waiting.  I’ve been living with someone.  Some men.  I think they were waiting to see if we’d just end up having kids.  What… how… did they force someone on you?”

She shook her head.  “It was a medical procedure.  I know whose it was… I think… do you remember Gal?”

You nodded.  Gal was short and funny and you remembered during the tests he always got telekinesis.  He thought it was funny to tap people on the shoulder while he was standing on the other side of the room.  “You think he’s dead?”

She nodded and then shook her head.  “I think… I don’t know.  They were injecting us with things, to make our powers come back, but it wasn’t working.  Katrina died.  And Shae.  And … and…”

“It’s okay,” you soothed, rubbing her back.  “It’s okay.”

She looked up at you with wide brown eyes.  “If I die, will you take care of my baby? You were always stronger than the rest of us. You’ll look after him.  Get him out of here.”

“Shh…” You whispered, crouching down.  “We’re gonna both get out of here.  Okay?  And your baby.  What’s his name?”

“I called him Gal.  I think… I think that’s only fair,” she said.  “Promise me you’ll take care of him.”

“I promise.  But you’re going to do that yourself, okay?”  You assured her, hoping that Steve and Bucky would come for you soon.

Whether it was the drugs they were using or the fact it was your second child, you couldn’t be sure, but your labor seemed to progress very quickly.  Once Azi got used to being in the room with you, she became a little more of a comfort to you.  She put baby Gal into the bassinet and would rub your back and soothe you through the contractions.  Not that there was much she could do.  Having someone on your side was better than being alone with HYDRA scientists, but all you could think was how much you needed Bucky and Steve.  Even if they did find you now, they were going to miss the birth of their daughter, and the longer your labor progressed, the harder it was to hang on to hope they’d find you at all.

Azi rubbed your back through a long contraction as you bent over the bed.  You’d been left alone again, but you knew it wouldn’t be long until the urge to push hit you.  You were in that period of serious pain where everything felt helpless and all you wanted to do was be with your boyfriends and curse them out for doing this to you.  Instead, you were in pain and terrified and with a woman who was even more scared than you.  Gal slept in the bassinet and part of you was even concerned that if you made too much noise would wake him and take Azi’s attention off you.

“You’re doing great,” she soothed.  “I think it won’t be long.”

“I don’t want them to deliver her,” you whined.  “I don’t want to do this here.”

“I know,” she said.  “I know.  I’m here.”

A siren started sounding, waking Gal so the baby's cries blended in with the harsh screeching of the alarms.  Azi looked around and hurried over to the infant.  “Hey, mommy’s here… I’ve got you,” she said, lifting him and holding him so one ear was pressed to her chest and the other was covered by her hand.  “What is that?”

Hope began to creep in again.  They’d found you.  You knew it.  It was only a matter of time before you’d be safe again.  You might even get to have this baby with them there with you.

Another contraction hit and you felt the need to push.  With Azi distracted with Gal and the sirens sounding, you weren’t sure what to do.  “Oh god,” you groaned, gritting your teeth and resisting the urge.

The sirens stopped and you heard footsteps run down the hall.  You couldn’t be sure, but you had a feeling they’d left you unguarded.  Another contraction hit and as it was ending the doors opened.  “Mommy,” Geo cried as he ran over to you.  “I don’t wanna be here.”

“I know,” you said, rubbing his back.  You looked around unsure what to do.  If you stayed here, then you were somewhere set up to deliver a baby, and hopefully, it wouldn’t take too long for Steve or Bucky to find you.  The problem was if you stayed here all of HYDRA knew where you were too, and if they were going to try and take you out of here before Steve or Bucky could get to you, then staying here let them do that.

You gritted your teeth.  “Geo,” you said.  “Do you think you can get the building to take us to a safer room?”

He nodded and took your hand.  “Azi, let’s go.”

She didn’t move and you doubled over in pain as another contraction hit.  “Mommy?”  Geo said, looking at you in fear.

“It’s okay, Geo,” you assured him.  “Your sister is coming.”  You looked back to Azi.  “Azi!  We have to go!”

She jumped and followed after you.  Geo led you out into the hall, clinging to your hand and pulling you along.  There were the sounds of shouting and gunfire, but while none sounded close yet, it was rapidly getting closer.  It was coming from several different sides and you began to worry that there wasn’t going to be anywhere safe to go.

Another contraction hit as you turned a corner and you almost collapsed to your knees.  The urge to push was intense and you had to consciously clench.  You were worried she might already be crowning.

“Mom, please,” Geo said, a look of pure panic.  “They’re coming.”

You tried to move, but all you could manage was a few staggered steps.

“Stop them!”

Azi jumped and you flinched at the sound of Viper’s voice as she came around the corner.  You pushed Geo behind you and tried to get him to move him forward.  Azi squared up, holding her baby so he was slightly protected.  “Get away from us!”  She screamed.

“There’s no use running, you idiots,” Viper snarled as the guards moved forward.  “Where do you think you’re going to go.”

Azi pushed Gal into your arms and charged at the guards, a look of wild rage on her face.

“Azi! No!”  You screamed.

Everything happened in slow motion.  Azi charged at them hands up like she was going to claw their eyes out and lept at the guard closest.  He stumbled back, and the gun went off.  Azi’s face froze as blood erupted out of her back.  You pulled Geo close as he began to wail and hid his face in your side.  For a second you weren’t even aware of the alarms going off again, as both Geo and Gal were screaming.

“Geo, run, go,” you said, pushing him forward.  He wouldn’t let go of your hand and you were worried that you weren’t going to be able to convince him to move.

“You idiots!  We needed her!”  Viper screeched.  “Get out of my way!”

She ran at you and you pushed Geo forward in an attempt to get away, knowing full well in your state you weren’t getting anywhere.  You managed to waddle forward a few steps as loud blasts erupted behind you.  Viper grabbed your shoulder and yanked you back.  You held Gal closer to you, sure she was about to make you drop him and a gunshot ran out behind you.

Viper’s grip relaxed and she slumped to the ground behind you.

“Daddy!”  Geo shouted as he looked around your legs.

You spun around.  Behind you, the hall was complete chaos.  The lights were flashing red and white and there were some of Iron Legion rounding up the few guards that Viper had with her.  Ari’s body was on the ground and one of the Legion seemed to be assessing it, while Viper's body lay at your feet. 

Bucky hurried down the hall, shouldering his rifle. “I’m here,” Bucky said, scooping the boy up.  “I’ve got you.”

Geo buried his face in Bucky’s neck and gradually the alarms calmed down and the lights settled.  Bucky put his arm around you.   “I’ve got you, darlin’,” he said.

“Oh god, Bucky,” you said, the emotions breaking as you started to tremble in his arms.  “Take the baby.”

He took the infant from you and you held his elbow as another contraction hit.  “Is this her?”  He asked.

You shook your head.  “No…” you said through gritted teeth.  “But she’s coming.”

“Shit,” he cursed.  “Come on.  Let's get you somewhere safe.” 

Geo pointed to a door and Bucky helped walk you to it, even as your body fought you moving at all.  “I need one of you to guard,” Bucky barked at the Legion.  One flew into place, standing at the door with its hands up and repulsors at the ready.

Bucky moved you inside and your knees buckled - like you’d been holding out until you had even one fragment of safety.  Bucky kneeled down beside you, still juggling Geo on the baby.  Geo was clinging to him like a koala and he hadn’t lifted his head from the spot in Bucky’s neck since he’d lifted the boy into place.

“Let me see,” Bucky said.

You got on your hands and knees and lifted the gown they’d put you in, spreading your legs until you were as comfortable as you could be.  Bucky sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth.  “Steve, you read me?” He said.  “I’ve found them.  And I’d suggest getting to us as quickly as you can if you wanna see your daughter born.”

// NEXT

[calliopesstories]

The Heart Of A King - Chapter 1

Relationship: Caspian X Susan, Caspian X Reader, Platonic!Susan and Platonic!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut (I’ll try the best I can), historical inaccuracy, misogyny and belief of 16th century, mention of death and sex, arranged marriage, /!\ Not proof read and non-english speaker writter /!\

Summary: There are opportunities in life that you have to take but you were different tough. Since you were born you always had things given to you on a silver plate. Yet you decided to create your own opportunities the day you chose to follow your father in all of his travels. It was no surprise for your parent when you left them no choice but to take you with them to the court of Cair Paravel, heart of your homeland. Even in your wildest dream you would have never thought of what destiny had in store for you when you took that opportunity and stepped in the castle of King Caspian and Queen Susan.

Words: 3,027

Author’s Note: Narnia (and the islands as well as the surrounding countries) is located in the Atlantic sea next to the strait of Gibraltar. It’s a mix between Southern Spain in terms of architecture and temperature, UK/France in terms of landscape and of course what you can see in the movies and be described in the books.

Two days of sea then just as much by carriage to reach the most magnificent palace of Narnia. No need to say it was all worth it. Nothing could compare to the beauty of Cair Paravel, its garden viewing the ocean, its impeccable white walls made of marble and the stained glasses that was colouring the inside of the castle in various colours. Last time you had been within the walls of this palace you were a child no older than five and yet it felt like yesterday. Nothing was as breath-taking as the home of the kings of Narnia, not even your father’s castle at Narrowhaven which was praised for its uniqueness and atypic beauty. Anyone who would be away from their home would feel homesick quickly but not you, you had left Narrowhaven when you were nine and only came back last year.

 Your father was the Grand Ambassador of King Caspian; he had started his duty under the rule of the king’s father and had sworn loyalty to his son. Thanks to his duty to the crown he had met your mother, he had married her and sired you, their one and only child. They had never needed more; you were everything they wanted and one day you would inherit the land and titles hold by your father. You were already marchioness of Narrowhaven however one day you would become the Duchess of the Lone Islands, courtesy of King Caspian IX. Not a lot of noble houses could brag about the fact that the king himself had gave them the right of female peerage. Just a few of you – daughters of high-ranking nobles – could take on the titles even with a male heir in the line of succession at the condition of the girl being born first. Not even the royal family had that right. Not that it made you feel particularly lucky, it was nice to think the castle you had grew up in would stay in your family forever even after marriage.

 The carriage stops right in front of the palace entrance. A flight of stairs leads to wooden graved doors decorated with gold and silver. You remembered well the tree with two trunks engraved on the doors after an old legend of Narnia but your child mind must have deceived you as you thought the doors were so big that giants must have lived here before. Turns out the door were huge, but not that much. They were twice the size of a grow man. Behind you servants were taking your personal items in order to put them where you’ll be leaving from now on.

 “You have the right to breath you know,” your father took your arm and patted gently your hand. “It’s not the first king you meet.”

 “There is a huge difference between a foreign king and the one for whom your father is working.”

 “Don’t worry Y/N, King Caspian is gentle and patient man. He knows you had never done this before that’s why Lady Prunaprismia will stay with you for a month then you will need no one’s help,” encouraged your mother.

 She knew you by heart. Every look, every breath and every head tilting had a significance your mother had no difficulties to understand. So when she saw you biting your lower lip, she understood how unsure of her statement you were. She had no doubt you would do well on your job. There were a few prized places at court that a woman of your status could hope to have: lady-in-waiting to the women of the royal family or governess to the king’s children. Those were official jobs but there was one every noble woman craved to have: mistress to the king. You had seen how this works and from one country to another, things weren’t that different. all hoped to dethrone the queen, thinking the king who loved them enough to put an alliance forged for years into the dirt for the beauty of their smile or whatever prowess they were doing in the royal bed. Foolish girls with foolish dreams.

 You were content with the place your mother had found you. What better way to learn the way of life than to help one grow? Prince Rilian wasn’t the son of Queen Susan yet she was the one who appointed you governess of the sole heir of the kingdom. This was thanks to your mother, the former governess of the queen. She had raised the Queen before she became your mother and by the way she was speaking of the queen you knew she was like a daughter to her although no one could take your place in her heart.

 You finally arrived in the throne room. The glass roof and the stained glasses gave the place an ethereal look worth of kings and queens. At the end of the room was standing four thrones of marble in front of a golden stained glass. You knew only three of them were occupied because the two were for the king and his queen, one was for the crown prince and the last throne was for the royal advisor – who had been executed last year for treason. The royal couple was waiting, stoically in their throne. You had no chance to look at them as you kneeled in front of your king and your queen before your father did, he had the privilege to stand in front of the king he had seen grow up.

 “His Grace Y/F/N, Duke of the Lone Islands, his wife Y/M/N, Duchess of the Lone Islands and their daughter the Lady Y/N,” announced a man on your right. “Welcome to the court of His Majesty King Caspian X and Her Majesty Queen Susan.”

 “Thank you Trumpkin but I know Lord Y/F/N for long enough to need no introduction. Please stand up my ladies there is no need for that between us.”

 You stood up and saw for the first time the king with your own eyes. You had heard stories about how handsome of a man he was and he truly was but more than that he had this glimmer in his eyes, something close to melancholia although well hidden behind a dazzling smile. You could lose yourself in his eyes. It was the voice of your mother that made you realised you were staring at the king for far too long. The queen had walk to your mother and the both of them exchanged some words before they turned to you. You bowed before the queen who wasn’t older than you.

 “I heard so much about you,” said Susan taking your hands in hers. Her smile was infectious and bright, contrary to her husband she was glowing with joy. “I’m sure will become good friends you and I.”

 “I hope so Your Majesty,” you really hoped to be in the queen’s good grace.

 “Last time I saw you, you were unable to keep yourself still.”

 “You remember Your Majesty?” asked your father. You had been told that the King and you had met when you were younger but you had no memories of such event. “Well, I must say Y/N has changed since.”

 “I can only agree with you.”

 You smiled at your father; you knew what he meant by this statement. You had become less impatient, more careful of your words and most importantly you were smart, street smart. You had helped him many times and he liked to think he was the reason why you were doing so good around people. But you were lacking the subtility to leave at court for a long time, which was a good thing when you were traveling around the globe with your father, staying at court for short periods but now you were to live at Cair Paravel for as long as the king would want you around, and unbeknown to you the king was thinking about the length of your stay.

 A door opened at your right and a small child ran pass you to be catch by the king. The prince you were supposed to take care of and who look exactly like his father if it wasn’t for his light baby blue eyes that was surely from his mother’s side. The young prince laughed in his father’s arms; he tried to push away from his face from the beard his father bore and that was probably irritating his soft and sensitive skin. The prince was five years old – for what you’ve been told – but he was taller the average five years-old, something he must have got from his father. The woman with him was his great-aunt, the Lady Prunaprismia, wife of King Caspian’s former advisor and his aunt by marriage. Although he holds no grudge against the woman for her husband’s betrayal, she had been asked to leave court forever. The King was a kind man but he wasn’t a very forgiving one. Not when it concerned his father and by extension his mother.

 “Rilian, this is Lady Y/N, she’s going to take care of you once aunt Prunaprismia will be gone,” informed Caspian. He put the child back on his feet and Rilian bowed before you. You imitated the prince, a huge smile on your face, won over by the child sweetness. The King kneeled next to his son and looked at him in the eyes. “I want you to behave with Lady Y/N like you’ll do with your aunt. Be nice, can you do that for me?”

 The prince energetically nodded widening your smile even more. King Caspian planted a kiss on his forehead. You saw him saying something to his son but couldn’t quite hear what it was. The queen had reached a hand for the prince to take but he preferred to stay with his current governess. The hurt in Queen Susan’s eyes was left unnoticed by you. it was common knowledge that, after five years of marriage, the queen hadn’t been pregnant once. Some rumours said she was barren, others that she had been made queen for very political reasons – which was the case for most queens though – and others that the king was never sharing her bed, still mourning his first wife, the one that gave him his heir, the one he had been in love with. And, after all, with an heir alive did he truly needs another child if he doesn’t love his current queen?

 Rilian and Prunaprismia left the group alone after the lady gave you a meeting point for the next day. Right after your mother and you were taken to your quarters while your father staid with the King to discuss important matter. It took you fifteen to arrive there. There were four separate rooms: two bedrooms, one for your parents and one for you, both at the opposite from one another and with separate entrance. A common room with a fire place, chairs, shelves filled with books and it was the room you entered first. Next to it there was a dining room big enough to fit ten people around the table and was only furnished with a sideboard to contain plates, forks, knives and the usual.

 Your room had a view of the garden and the sea, although you had been assured it would be temporary – you were supposed to get the one next to the prince’s – it was provided with all the luxuries you could think of. The decoration was elegant and refined, suiting a woman of your age and status. You had everything you could need, even your ladies-in-waiting you were sure had stayed at Narrowhaven. Those ladies were from smaller houses, ranks below your high-birth but they were your closest friends. Your only friends for that matter. Marwen, Cora and Lyria had been in your life since you were four, they had been your friends before being at your family’s service. They had travelled the world with you and your father, not once had they complained. They were the most loyal people you knew. After your father that is. Just seeing them made you happy and ready to face whatever the future had in store for you.

 Later that day Lady Prunaprismia’s servant had come to your door to take you to her quarters – which was supposed to become yours in a month. Lady Prunaprismia was in the middle of the room, waiting for you, the king by her side. On the table behind them was a book, both of them assumed you knew how to read and write, you were part of one of the great houses of Narnia, it would have been improper for you and your family to be illiterate. The king was the first to sit down, quickly followed by his aunt; again there were side by side while you were asked to sit across the table. You never liked being outnumbered and it was even more intimidating with the King right in front of you.

 “You have the right to breath you know,” King Caspian had leaned on the table to comfort you. you let out a stressed laughed but it made you realised you had been holding your breath. You took a deep breath and felt better. “That’s more like it.”

 “Lady Y/N, this book is the most important book in this castle. It holds all of the prince’s needs, medical events and so on. Until the day you’ll be left alone with him I am going to ask you to study this book to the point where you’ll know it by heart, words for words.”

 You opened the book carefully and the first sentence you read spoke about the prince’s books preferences, one of them you knew well as your father used to read it to you when you were younger. That memory brought a smile on your face. The book was quite big, there was a lot of information about Rilian and one month seemed like a too short amount of time to memories it all.

 “My aunt is a bit extreme; some information is dated and don’t suit Rilian anymore,” you continued to flip through the book as the king continued to speak. “Besides you are to be is governess, not his nurse, you are tasked to educate my son, to teach him basic knowledge until he’ll be old enough for a tutor.”

 “I’m allowed to enter the prince’s chamber at any given time?” you were sure you just had thought that but your mouth had decided to actually put sound on it. “Without permission or schedule!” Wow, that’s what you call trust!

 “You won’t be the only one taking care of Rilian. As I told you he has nurses who are supposed to bath, to feed and to generally take care of his physical health. Make sure he’s in good shape, if you prefer. You are in charge of making sure they do their job.”

 The close the book. You had never realised it was that much trouble taking care of a child. well, you guessed it wasn’t all day long a joyful stroll through the garden but God! Did the child really needed someone dedicated to wipe his butt? You remembered your childhood quite well and, in your memory, your parent partook a huge part of raising you into the woman you were today. But you kept that for yourself, not all parents have the same parenting technics, maybe it was how the king had been raised and he was a fine man. Besides, who were you to tell him how to raise a child? You had no child!

 “I know it’s a lot to take in one day. Don’t worry, you have time,” Prunaprismia took your hands, a kind smile provoking another on your face. “And from what I heard from your mother; you are more than capable.”

 “But if it’s really too much for you, I…we will understand, the Queen and I know taking care of a child, especially one who isn’t yours, can be demanding and challenging. If you think you won’t be up to the task, say it now or never, I’d rather know now and don’t worry it doesn’t mean you are not allowed in court anymore. That would be too cruel.”

 “You can count on me, Your Majesty. I won’t let you down.”

 You rose from your chair, taking the book in your arms and confidently walk away. That was the plan and, in your head, it was the perfect plan to show both of them how serious you were. Of course the cat didn’t agree with your plan and you tripped over him, falling on the ground. You heard Prunaprismia and King Caspian gasped before joining you, asking how you were doing. You felt humiliated. You just had fall on your ass in front of the king! God must have serious grudges over you! As you got back on your feet you swear you could see your pride and dignity staying on the floor by the devilish Shame. Hello you, you’re back again? You thought, sure to have left shame on the continent, somewhere in England or France.

 You assured the King and Lady Prunaprismia that you were fine and – carefully – get out of the chamber. You had a month to learn everything about the prince and to create a bound with him strong enough to hold against the child losing one of the few people he had entire trust and love to. One single month for something that took five years for the Lady Prunaprismia to achieve. That was so you, accepting a challenge when you perfectly knew it would difficult and completely impossible. But ever since you had dared yourself to do things no one would have thought a girl of your birth would do, it had always opened a door to something interesting and bigger than you thought. If you think about it, what would have happened if you had stayed with your mother at Narrowhaven all your damn life? For sure you would have never met the Royal Couple and have a full conversation with the king.

Taglist:

@aleksanderwh0r3​ @learisa​ @hxrgreeves​ @blackst0nes7077​

[marshmallow-phd]

Healing Touch

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Yixing x Reader

Summary: Medical school abroad was the last line on your to-do list before starting the rest of your life. Everything was going according to plan. Everything, that is, until tragedy strikes your campus. In the wake of a professor’s untimely death, you’re partnered with the cute boy with a breathtaking smile in the newly combined labs. You find yourself unable to resist the dimples and shy glances, but his life is here with no plans of leaving. Will you continue on as planned or will you accept the hand that Fate had dealt you?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Final

**

Yixing knew that he needed to get out of the car. The engine still rumbled, giving away his presence. Inside the farmhouse, the others were waiting for him so they could carry out the “family meeting”. Yixing already knew what it was about. And he still hadn’t made up his mind on how – or even if – he was going to tell his pack that this whole situation might be his fault.

Seeing the front door open, Yixing cut the engine and jumped out. Baekhyun poked his head out the screen door. “Are you coming? Junmyeon’s started pacing!”

“Yeah, I’m coming,” Yixing murmured as he kicked his car door shut.

So many doors. So much opening and closing. And the most important one he’d slammed shut himself. He could still see the dejected look on your face more clearly than the steps in front of him. Why did he have to be like this? So noble and overly righteous? He had his mate in his hands and he pushed you away. He needed to keep you safe – but was distance really the right way to do that?

Everyone else was already squished into the living room. There wasn’t much space in this area of the house, which was why they usually had meetings in the kitchen. Junmyeon must have been determined that no one be distracted by food or other easily reachable items.

Said alpha gave Yixing a very pointed look as the latter made his way to the back of the room, squeezing in between Chanyeol and Minseok against the wall.

“Everything okay?” Minseok asked quietly. Yixing nodded, but Chanyeol still threw a concerned glance his way.

“Alright, now that everyone is here,” again with the classic scolding Junmyeon glance, “we need to have a serious talk. There was another attack-”

“Another one!” Jongin exclaimed. His mouth hung on its hinges as he glanced around the room.

“Yes. Thankfully, this one survived. And he might have seen the wolf that attacked him.”

Chatter broke out among the wolves. Some where ecstatic at the possibility of finally knowing who this killer might be. Others were thankful that the man survived. Guesses bounced around about what this rouge wolf could look like. Baekhyun enjoyed the idea of it being a bear-like wolf, larger than even Chanyeol or – he’d stopped himself before he said another name that would shift the mood of the room in a flash.

“Nah, I bet its weak and sickly,” Jongdae interjected.

“Red fur?”

“No, those are rare.”

“I bet it’s blonde and shrimpy like Jongdae.”

“Watch it, Sehun.”

The chatter grew, even with Junmyeon’s insistence that they quiet down. So many voices piled on top of each that finally Yixing couldn’t take their theories anymore.

“It was a gray wolf.”

Despite Yixing’s neutral and low tone, the rest of the pack heard. Immediate silence. All eyes turned to him in confusion. He kept his arms crossed over his chest with his own gaze down on the floor.

“That’s a boring guess,” Sehun grumbled.

“Its not a guess,” Yixing admitted. “That’s what the man said at the hospital.”

Junmyeon stared hard at Yixing. “How do you know that’s the man said?” Lifting his eyes up, Yixing hardened his features. Under his arms, his fists curled tightly, his nails digging into the skin with a dull pain. He’d opened another door. And he didn’t think he could close this one again. Junmyeon sighed. “Everyone out.”

Everyone was reluctant to move.

“Now!”

Feet scrambled and tripped over one another as everyone but Yixing ran out of the room and to the kitchen. Junmyeon hated being forceful like that, having to raise his voice at the others. It was no surprise that he immediately melted back into a calmer state.

“Yixing…” came his steady, yet authoritative voice. “Tell me everything. Please.”

Yixing took a deep breath. It was better this way. He hoped. 

“I’ve been blacking out.”

“What?”

“They started around the same time the attacks did,” Yixing explained. “Sometimes I get a headache first. Sometimes it just happens. I lose time – hours usually. And then within that time, there’s an attack.” He could feel his throat closing in. It was more devastating than he’d pictured – telling the truth. He feared his pack turning on him, putting the blame on him, even if it was rightfully done. He’d always been the odd one out, the wolf with a different ancestry. He used to have others to relate to, but when they left….

“Have you ever woken up with blood on you?” Junmyeon asked cautiously.

“No.” A small miracle. There was one time, but he’d found the poor rabbit just a few feet away and the smells matched. 

“There could be another explanation for this,” Junmyeon insisted.

Yixing wanted to believe him, but there was other evidence against the hope. “He said it was a gray wolf.”

“Its not that uncommon of a color.”

“But he was attacked right during another one of my blackouts.”

“And where were you?”

“I was in the forest. Running. Alone.”

Junmyeon frowned. “Why were you doing that?”

Yixing shrugged. “I was… happy. Things were going in a good direction with Ming. I just needed to let the energy out and I wanted to be alone….”

“And then a blackout?”

Yixing nodded. “I woke nearby. (Y/n) was the one who had found him. I’d heard her screaming. We took him to the hospital and then I saw (y/n) home.”

“Did you talk to the police?”

“Yeah. All I told them was that I was in the area next to the nature center and heard (y/n) scream.”

“They didn’t think it was odd that you were naked?”

Yixing cringed, embarrassed. “I had my pants on, (y/n) gave me her jacket-” his jacket - “so they didn’t question it.”

“And (y/n)?”

“I doubt she fully believed my hiking story.”

Junmyeon let out a full lung’s worth of a sigh. His shoulders were weighted down by the pressure to keep their existence a secret and also take care of his pack. Would he outcast Yixing to protect the rest? Yixing wanted to cling to the hope that that wouldn’t be the case, but there was always a chance.

Stepping forward, Junmyeon placed a hand on Yixing’s shoulder. A smile, strained but reassuring, crept on his face. “We’ll figure this out. I don’t believe it’s you, but something bigger might be happening. Don’t go through this alone anymore, okay?”

As expected, a rumbling off footsteps shook the floor. Seven pairs arm wrapped around Junmyeon and Yixing.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Baekhyun whined.

“We could have helped you,” Chanyeol jumped in.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” Minseok agreed.

Yixing smiled, but said nothing. He still wasn’t sure if he’d made the right decision in revealing his condition. There was no telling what lied at the end of this road – either Yixing would be free to live his life with you or he would be outcast from the pack with a heavy conscious.

“Did I miss something?”

All heads snapped to the front parlor. Ji Yeon stood in the entryway with a coffee cup in one hand and her laptop bag in the other. Small chuckles echoed around the room as the group shifted away from each other. Even Yixing gave off a short laugh. It was a nice release, but now that meant Ji Yeon would need to be made aware of the current situation, adding to Yixing’s fear. As Minseok shuffled closer to his mate, Yixing slipped out of the room, wondering when he would be able to be close to his own mate again. 

**

It was one thing to think about personal issues on personal time. It was another to stop coming to class altogether. And for once, it wasn’t you avoiding the problem.

You had gone to class like normal, even though you were fully aware that a certain someone would – or, at least, should – be sitting in his usual seat when you arrived. You weren’t surprised at all when he hadn’t found you to walk you from class to class. That was to be expected after the abrupt ending to your last encounter. But him skipping class altogether was unexpected. Yixing was a dutiful student. Being in class was important. And yet, his seat was conspicuously empty when you stepped into the lab.

It was suffice to say that you were a little put out by his avoidance. You had conceded to the idea that you were going to suffer through having to sit next to him all class period and yet, all your panicking and worry was for not.

Maybe this was secretly a good thing. Maybe you would be able to concentrate better with the table to yourself.

That was not the case.

While you tried to concentrate on Professor Jiang’s lecture, your mind kept wondering back to Yixing.

Was he okay? Was he avoiding you? Had he dropped the class for good? Because of you?

What were the “things” that he needed to figure out? Were you right in thinking that he had a girlfriend off campus? Or was something else going on? Family things?

Your head was spinning with all the different possibilities. You might have heard a few technical terms during the lecture, but none of it sunk in. The pencil in your hand hardly scribbled across the notepad. Words floated meaningless from the textbook.

When Professor Jiang ended the session, you closed the textbook with a hard slam. Many eyes turned to you in shocked curiosity.

“Sorry,” you mumbled as you quickly packed away the rest of your supplies. Keeping your head down, you rushed out of the classroom and through the halls until you were outside under the cloud-hidden sun.

Finding a bench, you sat down, leaning forward on your knees as your eyes trailed over the cracked concrete sidewalk. That period was a dud, you were sure of that. At some point you would have to squeeze in extra study time to make up for the inability to control your attention. It was all Yixing’s fault. He was the one who had kissed you and then left. A few times you had unlocked your phone to call him, but never went through with it. You didn’t want to come off as desperate or clingy. You were trying not to care. In the past, you never had before. There was no reason for Yixing to be any different.

Except that he was.

You felt a bit… broken. Or perhaps rejected was the right word. There was a lot going on inside you that it was hard to pinpoint the exact emotions. Those words were both exaggerated and not enough in their explanations. 

Deciding that you were done with this oddly out of character pity party, you stood up and continued walking until you’d left the campus grounds all together and crossed the street in the direction of your apartment.

Ran was home when you walked through the door. Her music – vibrating loudly through the miniature Bluetooth next to her on the floor – drowned out your steps into the living room. Spread out around her were notebooks, textbooks, different colored pens and a half-filled coffee mug. A one-person study session. She jumped when she finally noticed you. “Oh, hey!” She reached over and turned down the music so it was now at a low background noise level. “What are you doing already?”

“I wasn’t feeling too well,” you lied. She believed you since you were sure you looked the part. “I thought it might be best to come home and lie down.”

Ran jokingly cringed away from you. “Ew, don’t get me sick. I have plans with Hae In this weekend.”

“I don’t think it’s a bug or anything. My body might just be rebelling against lack of sleep.” Surely Ran had heard your tossing and turning the last several nights.

“Hey,” Ran caught you attention again before you could escape to your room. “So, uh, did anything happen between you and that Yixing guy after I left?” She wiggled her eyebrows playfully.

You shook your head. “No. We talked about class a bit and then he went home. Family emergency or something like that.”

“Hm. Interesting. Well, take it form me, he definitely likes you.”

“I doubt that.”

“No, seriously.” Ran took a sip from the mug, flinched at the now probably lukewarm liquid, and then put it back down. “The way he was looking at you, he likes you. A lot. I think you should give him a chance.”

You chewed on her observations. “I’ll think about it.”

Safe in the four walls of your tiny room, you curled up on your bed with your back against the headboard. As wonderful as sleep sounded and even with Ran now keeping her music at a more manageable level, you doubted your brain would be able to shut off. To try and be distracted by something, you logged into the “Dream University’s” website to check your status.

Still waitlisted. Okay. This was fine. You weren’t actually expecting any change. You just wanted something to do. You were growing antsy. Coming home might not have actually been the best idea. It was the walk itself that had been helpful, freeing for your mind. Now that you were still again, you were back to where you were in the classroom. Unfortunately, the overthinking anxiety wouldn’t let you just get up and go – not with Ran still in the living room. Did it make any sense? Absolutely not. Did that matter? Nope.

About twenty minutes or so went by with you simply scrolling through social media until you heard the music stop and the rustling of the school supplies being picked up. After five minutes of clean up, the front door opened and then closed again. Just to be extra sure that Ran was gone for good, you watched the clock on your phone click by for ten minutes.

Now you were able to leave.

Wrapping up in a jacket (not Yixing’s), you checked your pockets for all the essentials and then headed out the door.

It was back to the nature center for you. It probably wasn’t the smartest place to go given your last adventure in the park, but it had nice winding trails and there would be people around – at a distance, that is.

The clouds were still heavy in the sky when you arrived. Not to the point where they threatened rain, but enough to color the world a dull gray. Squirrels dotted along the path. Their bellies were round and full, telling you that the locals had been feeding them despite the signs that clearly advised against it. Some were brave enough or curious enough to come close to you, but scurried away as soon as it was clear that you were not one of the gracious humans that bestowed them fluffy bread.

Letting your feet guide you along the asphalt path, you let yourself be absorbed in the trees. Your mind still wander towards Yixing, but you didn’t fight it anymore. You were hoping that overexposure would lead to a numbness, an immunity. But he wasn’t a disease attacking your body, he was just a boy. A cute, dimple-smiled boy who made you feel at ease.

Crack!

You snapped your head up at the sudden sound. You half expected a bunny to come hopping out of the side bushes, letting you laugh at yourself. But it wasn’t a bunny twenty feet off the trail.

It was a wolf.

A gray wolf. Just like the hiker said. And it was staring right at you.

Scanning the area, you searched for the closest route to the main center, but you were too far in. This was exactly why you avoided the woods!

You vaguely remembered the advice not to run because then the wolf would treat you like prey. It always sounded like stupid advice. Even more so now as the creature charged in your direction. You charged off the path in the opposite direction of the wolf, pushing the air out of your lungs and screaming as loud as you could.

**

“Are you sure it was around here?”

Yixing threw Junmyeon a look. “Yes. I’m sure.”

The two wolves were currently trotting through the woods to find the spot where Yixing had found the man and Ming. Junmyeon wanted a better look at the scene in the off chance he might get a better intact of the scent left behind. Each time they’d gone looking for answers in the past, the scent had been too old and dulled to really pick it apart. They were probably too late now, but they’d spent the last few days at the farmhouse, keeping an eye on Yixing to see if another blackout would occur. It hadn’t, much to Junmyeon’s disappointment.

“It was close to the nature center,” Yixing explained once again. They’d come from the north, rather than straight from the center. Yixing had hoped that he’d have a better insight to the location. They were getting warmer.

A sudden twig snap made their human ears perk up.

“Could that be--”

“It was probably just a rabbit,” Junmyeon guessed.

As if to prove him wrong, the snap was followed by a wolf’s rumbling howl. And then a high pitched scream.

Yixing gasped. He knew that scream.

“That’s (y/n)!”

Junmyeon looked at him, unconvinced. “Are you sure?”

Yixing’s response was a ferocious growl as he took off without his alpha. A wolf always knows his mate.