#every time i try to explain this it comes out as a strangled dying noise

[thestalwartheart]

ben whishaw. ben whishaw. i cannot and will never be able to articulate my feelings about him. he is so obscenely talented and so intelligent and so principled and so thoughtful and recently he's started wearing that earring which drives me insane. i just look at him and see the pinnacle of creative fulfillment, you know? we are so lucky to witness him.

[oozedninjas]

2012 boys having their first time? They don't usually let out much "turtely" noises so...

poor boys, it feels so good they can't stop churring 🥺

This is the first time I see the word "churring" I hope to be writing it right? I looked it up but Google said it's some sort of squeaky sound? God, I hope I did it right, tell me if it's wrong and I'll change it lol

Warnings: NSFW / MDNI / 18+ / turtle noises / first time together but not V card loss bc I wanted this to be short pls don't kill me T.T / 2012 / guys are mid to late 20's / breeding kink / oral sex

Leo tries to suppress the sound. Gritting his teeth, controlling his breathing, but holy shit. It's so tight inside you, soft and hot. You're taking him in so well that his mind spirals to the place of only instincts. Yet, he manages to hold them back. It's the first time you've been together, you're not used to it. You'll judge him, think it's weird. He can't let-

"Fuck, yes! Right there, you're so good," your voice trembles, breath staggered.

The sound of your voice, or maybe the way your legs laced around him, forcing his thrust, sent him over the edge. Every strangled sound mingled with his ragged breaths. He didn't care anymore, or so he thought, until your praise washed over him.

Raph started tenderly. "Tell me if it hurts," he said. "I'll stop." And he did. He followed your pace and until now he had done nothing but make you come so hard your toes curled. Yet, the skin on your neck and shoulder throbbed from his constant biting.

"Wait, no more… please. That hurts," you managed. Voice weak and quivering.

Raph groaned against your neck, jaw clenching. He sucked on your flesh every time he felt the stupid churring building in the back of his throat, he never meant to hurt you.

"Sorry, babe- I'll go easier on you," he said as his breath mixed with that pitiful sound.

"What was that?"

Damn. You surely thought it was weird, disgusting, misfitting. He could make you come again, maybe then-

"I want to hear it again," you pleaded, clenching around his cock in your attempt to pull him closer. "Raph please, it was so hot,"

He downright moaned at that. Fuck, anything for you.

The rhythmic pounding of his hips against yours intensified, the sound echoing in your core. A stolen glance downward sent a jolt through you. His erection pistoned into you, the heat of his body searing against your skin.

Donatello seized your mouth, his kiss a whirlwind of heat and urgency. A strangled groan escaped his lips as he chased his peak. He could feel the churring creeping at the back of his throat like a threat to ruin everything.

"I want to feel you coming inside me," you gasped, lips brushing his. "come for me baby, with me-"

Your orgasm burned through you as you felt his cum spread within. Your head fell back, eyes fluttering closed as he held you close, his touch a damp heat against your skin. A tremor vibrated through him, a low rumble threatening to erupt. Then, the telltale churring sound, weak and smooth, filled the air.

"What's that?" you panted, snuggling him.

"I'll explain later," he mumbled, voice husky with exhaustion as the soft sound spilled through, filling the air.

"Hmm, it's calming. I love it," you said, kissing his cheeks. "Can you keep making it?"

Fuck yes, he can. For as long as you desire.

Mikey kept his pace steady as he circled his tongue, thick and hot, over your clit. Rough palms bracketed your hips down, trapping you close. A delicious heat bloomed in your core.

"Wait, I don't- I don't want to come yet," you breathed, trying to move off and failing just as he pushed his tongue inside you. You gasped.

Mikey moaned, drinking you out. His cock throbbed, aching, dying to be engulfed in your hot, wet hole. Fuck, the anticipation of your pussy clenching on him had Mikey on the verge of coming. But that could be for another day, one where you were so addicted to the way he makes you come that you wouldn't care for silly churring sounds.

"Babe, I want you to feel good too," you managed to mutter, barely.

Shit, he loved the drunk-like sound of your voice. "No, this is fine. Let me show you the stars,"

You ground over his face, allowing. Mikey thrust his hips up, attempting to relieve some tension. His dick twitched, needy. A choked sob, laced with a desperate raspy churr, erupted from his throat.

You gripped the side of his head in return, clenching your cunt around his tongue like you liked it. That thought unleashed every little sound he was repressing. Your moaning grew louder as you came long and hard over his mouth.

"That sound you made," you began, evening your breath, "I want to hear it right in my ear when you fuck me."

Fuck, marry him, would you?

[words-writ-in-starlight]

day 4: "do you trust me?"

(part one)

There are logistics to consider, when it comes to publicly executing a wizard. It’s a show of assurance from the Dynasty, to have him killed under the eyes of all Rosohna, to prove their strength, but also a risk. It looks unprofessional for a captured traitor to make a last stand within feet of the axe, even if all he achieves is going out in a blaze of glory rather than a quick drop of steel.

Steps have been taken to avoid this eventuality. Essek’s hands are shackled behind his back, forced into gloves with steel wires running through the fingers and palms to prevent even the smallest gesture. Between the cloth between his teeth and the metal muzzle holding his jaw tightly closed, he’s no closer to speaking a spell than he is to walking on the sun. Every fiber of his plain prisoner’s shirt and pants has been searched, twice, to ensure that he has nothing on him that might conceivably be used for casting.

Essek has seen this before, although rarely. It was not a surprise, when the appointed day arrived and his guards brought the restraints. Yet it feels unreal, as everything since his trial has felt unreal. As everything since Jester’s message has felt unreal. A dream, unspooling before him, outside his control.

There is a kind of ease to it, that Essek has never experienced before. There is nothing left for him to do. He made his attempt to run, and he failed. He said his words of defense at his trial, and they were not enough. And now, they will use the same techniques that he helped to perfect to drag him to the block and kill him for his treason, his callous disregard for all the lives lost in the war. All neat and tidy, and all he has to do is let the current carry him forward to the inevitable end.

He tells himself, as the gloves are locked onto his hands, that this is one of the better possible outcomes, and he even believes it. His friends, his family—they are not here. Jester has done as she agreed, giving him time to resolve the situation, and hasn’t messaged him since his trial. The Nein are well outside the possible radius of destruction that Essek has caused, in his arrogance and carelessness. He knows his actions will reflect poorly on Den Thelyss, but he hopes that Verin might escape with a mere demotion, as unscathed as anyone could hope to be, protected by Essek’s full, willing confession.

It’s worth it, to pay for their lives with his own.

Essek believes this. He believes it with his whole heart.

The gloves keep his hands from shaking.

Two guards, a goliath with her arms tattooed so densely she looks scaled and a burly half-orc with skin nearly as grey as the stone walls, haul him to his feet in his cell and push him forward. They hold him up by main force when he stumbles and he would otherwise take a head-first fall into the stone. Nonetheless, his pride prickles and burns when the half-orc yanks him upright after his latest near-fall, grip hard on the collar of Essek’s shirt, and snorts a laugh.

“Can’t believe he’s the fucking traitor,” the half-orc says over Essek’s head, drawling the words in a tone full of vindictive amusement that Essek has become regrettably familiar with, lately. “Fucker can’t even walk in a straight line. Can you, Shadowhand?” He gives Essek a sharp cuff on the shoulder to punctuate the insult, and it’s only because Essek has a sense of how this goes by now that he manages to anticipate the blow and stay on his feet.

The goliath laughs, a rolling rumble of thunder as she checks Essek hard with her hip, sending Essek into the corner of the next corridor hard enough that he’d have a bruise, if he lived long enough for it to show up.

“You’re telling me,” the goliath says. “Goddamn, wizards are useless once you get ‘em quiet, huh? Up this way next, what is this, your first time down here?”

“You’ve got to do a pretty good job, but yeah, pretty much just decorative once you shut ‘em up.” The half-orc grabs the cuff holding Essek’s hands together and tugs to indicate the next corridor, ignoring the way it forces Essek up onto his toes against the pain in his shoulders. “I just got in from Jigow,” he continues, as if Essek isn’t even there. “Y’know how it is, they were looking to cover y’all’s staffing problems since this bastard’s confession did a real number on things. Anywhere good to get a drink around here?”

“Thought you looked new,” the goliath said. “You trying to get lucky, new guy?”

“Hey, miss every shot you don’t take,” the half-orc said, sly, angling a glance up at her. “How’s my progress?”

“Depends on how much you spend on those drinks. Hold him, I’ll get the gate.”

The half-orc’s hands close firmly around the tops of Essek’s arms, holding him in place as the goliath strides ahead. In front of her—in front of Essek—is the great gate to the courtyard, and beyond it he can hear the roar of a crowd, bloodthirsty and victorious.

He can picture it. He’s put people here himself, attended executions for treason. The flagstones, smooth and dark beneath the crowd of witnesses. The stone dias with the Bright Queen’s throne, the chairs beside her for close advisors and other nobility. His mother might have been there, if he hadn’t so recently destroyed the reputation of Den Thelyss. And at the center, where all could see, the stairs, and the platform, and the block, and the axe.

The goliath is at the door, and the lock clatters, metal-on-metal.

Under cover of the noise, the half-orc lowers his head and speaks into Essek’s ear, no longer the careless drawl, but quick, clipped words in a familiar accent.

“I don’t have time to explain,” the half-orc murmurs in Fjord’s voice, so quiet that Essek would think it was a hallucination if he couldn’t feel the air move against his skin. “We have a plan. Do you trust me?”

Essek’s first response isn’t relief. It’s not even shock. It is pure, undiluted, blazing rage, that, after all this, these fucking morons are here. It hits him so hard that his skin burns with it, his vision spotting black at the edges, lips twisting against his gag. All at once, for the first time in a week, Essek is awake, jarred back to the present by the fury pounding through his veins. He can feel the air rushing into his throat, the hammering of his heart against his ribs, every fiber of his coarse prisoner’s clothing and every imperfection of the stone under his bare feet.

Fortunately, Essek has been a traitor in the heart of the Dynasty for too long to let it slow him down, and he nods, once, minutely.

“Okay,” Fjord breathes. “She’s going to open that door. When I yell, make a run for it.”

Once upon a time, Essek would have spent valuable time thinking about how astronomically terrible that plan is, but prolonged exposure to the Mighty Nein teaches a person to accept the reality of a plan being terrible right away and move on to thinking about managing the terrible plan quickly. And—

Even if it was the worst conceivable plan, even if it was—well, make a run for it, when there’s a sword-wielding goliath between him and the outside, which is entirely populated by guards, magic users, and a crowd that wants him dead—even then, Essek can’t imagine turning down the offer. It’s not exactly a port in a storm, but it’s something.

Essek is twenty paces from his own death, and even if this plan just ends with him having a friend at his side while he dies, it’s already better than dying alone. He never claimed to have entirely cured himself of selfishness.

And besides, Essek reassures himself as the goliath shoulders open the door. If this gets Fjord killed too, Essek will just have to find a way to drag himself back from death and throttle the entire Nein on principle. Stranger things have happened.

The door creaks open, and Fjord’s hands loosen, just slightly, and Essek runs.

“Fucker!” Fjord roars behind him, sounding breathless—pained? It buys Essek a bare moment to close the distance to the gate, and then dart around the goliath’s side as she starts to turn. “He’s using magic! Stop him!”

The goliath snarls, and Essek puts on a reckless burst of speed. Her hand shoots out and grabs his shirt, but Essek is moving too quickly. The fabric cuts into him as it rips, and then he’s stumbling into the courtyard.

He doesn’t get any further. His luck doesn’t hold up to a second blow from the goliath, and she slams a fist into his chest so hard he hears ribs crack. He’s shoved backward, toward the door, with a helpless, strangled shout of pain that draws every eye.

He’s caught from behind, a fist in his tangled white hair, and he hears a whisper of “Trust me.”

And then Fjord’s hand, unremarkable guard’s sword in his grip, comes down, and cuts Essek’s throat.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

My Little Physician Empress ~ Yin Zhen x Reader

Just a story in which reader, a regular girl, was allowed since very young to aid her father in being a Royal Physician, and helped the princes through the years without asking for anything in return.

Since ancient times, views on physician women have been distorted times and times again - Sometimes they are shamans, other times they are witches, and oftentimes, they simply don't deserve to live, no matter how many lives they save, or how capable they are.

Even now, in Qing dynasty, there is stigma, and all the physicians in the palace are men.

But that will soon change when, one day, a Physician from outside the palace is able to come up with a proper cure for the plague that was rampaging the people and somehow, found its way inside the palace too, and he was rewarded handsomely - He was awarded a wish granted - Any wish he wanted.

And that was to have his daughter allowed to aid him in his work inside the palace. He explained how his daughter played around with concoctions one day, and somehow gave him the brilliant idea for a revolutionary cure, and with this story, the Emperor indulged the old man and got them both in the palace.

They didn't earn a lot of money, but it was enough for them to dress appropriately with living in the palace. The girl never got any kind of accessory, so she mainly held her hand in a simply braid, occasionally put some flowers in it, and was ready to go on with the day in aiding her father.

But she was always a curious little girl, and very often, she went outside to play and discover every nook and cranny around the palace - Which is when she met the fourth prince - Not that she knew, though.

She held some struggling and splashing in the water one night, and saw a eunuch running away. Upon investigating, she saw a child who wasn't trashing around anymore, and he was about her age. She jumped in the lotus pond, getting him to the surface and, after opening his jacket, she pressed on his chest between his lungs and leaned in to give him the kiss of life.

As expected, the boy then jolted in a sitting position and started coughing, before falling into her arms once again, exhausted.

"How are you feeling?" she asked in a gentle voice, her hand on his cheek to get his attention. "Fine...I'm better now...Whoever pushed me is going to get killed, I'll make sure of that." the boy was angry, and rightfully so. He tried to get up, but was still wobbly, so the girl helped him go back to his room, letting him lean on her side. "It was an Eunuch. I saw him running away from the pond after you got underneath the water." she told him what she saw. "Now that I think about it...Who are you? I've never seen you around the palace, have I?" he asked suspiciously. "Don't be suspicious of the person who saved your life. I am Y/N, daughter of the Royal Physician who came up with the cure for the plague." she explained in a gentle manner. "Figures. Then, that means you know who I am, don't you?" he scoffed lightly. "Uh...No, not really. Should I?" she tilted her head a little to the side. "You don't? They why did you save me?" he asked, even more confused now. "...Because you were dying?! Did you notice that? Was I supposed to let you die there? Tell me, I can quite literally drag you back to the pond and throw you back if you want? I will ask for you name first and only then rescue you." she scolded him in disbelief at his ungratefulness. "No. No, you're right. Anyway, thanks for saving me. How did you save me? I know I blacked out as some point, right?" he said, and with all the nonchalance in the world, she answered. "I gave you the kiss of life." this answer made the boy stop in his tracks, yelling at her. "YOU DID WHAT?! That’s... That’s improper! I will have you flogged and caned for that! You’re a woman, and I’m a man, and we are both unmarried, it’s... It’s...!" he gaped at her in horror. "You do realise you stopped breathing, don't you? And if I didn't get you breathing again, your heart would have stopped. If your heart stopped pumping, blood wouldn't have gone everywhere in your body, to all your organs, therefor you would have gotten a total system failure in less than 10 to 15 minutes. That means, for idiots like you who don't value life, that you would have died if I didn't do that." she rolled her eyes at him, dragging him inside the pavilion, where lots of eunuchs and maids fussed over him. "Su Peisheng! Reward this maid handsomely, she saved my life." the little boy said - He must be one of the princes, the girl thought, amused. "No thanks. I saved your life, that's all. You yelled enough at me, I don't want anything from you anymore. Next time I try to save your life, remind me to ask you your name first and only then ask consent to save your life." the girl rolled her eyes at him, thinking him hypocritical, and turned around to go home, only to have the boy catch her wrist immediately. "Then, ask for anything, and I'll give it to you." he said, very seriously. "Fine. I'm not a maid, I'm a Female Physician, therefor you must address me properly from now on. Physician Y/N. Got it?" her voice was authoritarian, but she didn't inspire malice or evil, and it quite amused the young prince. "Very well. Until we meet again, Physician Y/N." and thus, making her smile softly, she left the place with a nod of Goodnight. "Su Peisheng." the boy called out his eunuch one again. "What do Physician girls like?" he asked, almost innocently. "Forgive me, Your Highness, this one does not know, for there have not been female physicians in the palace before. However, girls usually like feminine things like clothes and accessories. Miss Y/N wasn't wearing any, as far as I saw." the eunuch provided the young prince with the information. "I see...Very well. Tomorrow, you will send some red agate earrings to her. Make sure you give them to her directly." the boy ordered his slave, who nodded in agreement.

However, the next day, the eunuch returned as he left - With the gift box in his hands and endless apologies. "Miss Y/N wanted me to inform you never to gift her...To quote her...Useless things. Pardon my rudeness, Your Highness, I am merely telling you her words. She said that expensive earrings won't help her save lives. I tried to convince her, but she threatened to throw them in the pigstry." the eunuch kowtowed to the ground in front of the young prince, only for him to raise him up and chuckle in amusement. "Don't worry, it's fine. I'll just bring them to mother and ask her for advice. This is no ordinary girl I'm dealing with."

And this way, his mother advised him to find rare healing-related books, even more so, from the West, and gift them to her. She immediately accepted them, and Yin Zhen often found the mysterious girl reading by the wisteria tree, unbothered by anything and anyone.

The 4th prince often looked at her and got reminded of his annoying 3rd prince brother, but at least she wasn't so obsolete and dissolute like him.

He would find her occasionally swinging in the Apricot garden, where it was mostly quiet and very few people visited, and even so, he would often hear her practicing flute-playing.

The next Prince she met was, to Yin Zhen’s entertainment and slight jealousy, was the 3rd Prince, Yin Zhi, as she was delivering medicine to one of the Imperial Concubines, the foreign melodious tune of an instrument she has never heard of before, and as expected, her curiosity led her directly to this Prince who seemed just a bit older than her, standing under a tree and practicing said instrument.

The girl could only stay there in awe, the wonderful melody taking over her senses and imagination, only for a sudden screech to destroy everything, making her yelp in shock. The jerk of a Prince made the bow unceremoniously scratch the violin’s strings, making a God Forsaken ear-bleeding noise.

“Hope you enjoyed that as well, stalker.” the prince sneered at her, but to his surprise, she merely chuckled. “Wonderful how such an elegant instrument can create hellish sounds in the wrong hands. Only someone hardworking, dedicated and with grace can play this instrument. You are a Prince, aren’t you?” she leaned on the tree, a knowing smirk on her face. “If you figured that out, then why aren’t you bowing to the ground right now?” the aggressiveness displayed in his voice and words seemed to contradict his actions as he sat down at the table, where neatly drawn blueprints and parts to be engineered with. “I can accept the consequences of my mistake and I even won’t protest, should you want to take my head off, should you be so kind as to explain to me the process of building this wonderful instrument. It is a Western one, is it not?” she sat down next to him, analysing the papers carefully. “What would some lowly maid like you know of Western technology? Why should I waste my time on you?” he scoffed, looking down at her. “Do you not find sharing such groundbreaking information with someone genuinely interested to be rather... Enlightening? From my short stay here, in the Palace, I have found out that the 2nd Prince is rather dissolute and promiscuous, but at the same time, a very intelligent and lonely person who cannot interact with others. From the looks of it, you simply have completely different aspirations and interests, while your brothers are solely interested in this Game of Thrones, and you cannot possibly have a proper, intellectual conversation with them. Correct me if I’m wrong, however, and I will leave you alone.” that vixen-like smile on her face made the Prince want to strangle her and wipe that stupid smirk off her face for daring to figure him out so well. At the same time, however, he hasn’t felt so challenged in his life and frankly, this little maid could prove to be more interesting than expected. “I’ll have you thrown to the Office of Punishments should you dare bore me at any time after the cheeky, daring stunt you pulled. Now, you better be paying attention to every word I am about to tell you, I hate repeating myself for dumb airheads, understood?” his voice was serious and mature, especially for someone his age, but that only meant that Y/N had what to learn from him, and for that, she was grateful. “I swear to do my best and keep up with your intellectual explanations, so please, do be patient with me for I am very grateful for the time you are taking out of your schedule to teach me.” she bowed her head to him, and thus, with a soft huff, the Prince began explaining the to the girl about the peculiar instrument in his hands. “This is called a Violin, and this is called a Bow. As you guessed, this instrument was created in the West, from a country called “Italy”, in an unknown date from the 16th century. Although paintings from back then show the Violin had 3 strings, now, as you can see, it has four...” and so, he continued by showing her the component parts of the violin both on the instrument, and on the blueprints, only for him to, in the end, gift her the ink drawing he made of the original blueprint, as a way for her to promise to continue studying on her own too.

There were many other Royal Princes and Princesses, but many weren’t as interesting as the 3rd and 4th Prince who, quite frankly, were a force to be reckoned with. While Yin Zhi would teach her how to build a clock, or show her interesting literature, Yin Zhen would be adamant in taking her horse-riding and, surprisingly, he was rather interested in her healing knowledge, thus why, he would always acquire the rarest books from all over the world and, instead of giving them for the Physicians to learn, he would gift them to this lovely maid whose company he loved so much.

Time passed quickly, they got older, both Y/N and her father rapidly advanced in their ranks thanks to their revolutionary treatments that cured every illness, and the princes all grew into fine men - Which meant that the true Game of Thrones began for everyone in the palace, not just them.

The first to go down was the Crown Prince who, as Y/N discovered, had ricing powder put in his food. “It is quite simple, and unfortunately, incredibly deadly, even in small doses. All you need is the beans from a castor oil plant, you make them into powder and... You’ve got one of the deadliest poisons there are. My only guess is, it would have to have been someone from the Imperial Kitchens who could do such a feat because, if the powder was put on the dishes after being prepared, it would still be mildly visible, whereas if it was put in a big pot, it would get homogenized and thus, leave no visible or taste trace.” Y/N explained in front of the Emperor, standing poised and ignoring all the other many eyes staring at her. “I have heard many times of ricin, but none was ever brave enough to dare bring it into the Palace, especially after I have forbidden any dish to be made with Castor oil! For the poison to act, one administration was enough?” Emperor Kangxi asked, rage and sorrow evident on his face. “No, Your Majesty. I imagine that the culprit played it smart and only added small doses of ricin powder in His Highness’s food, but regularly. I have read the Medical Files from the Bureau of Imperial Physicians and I have noticed that His Highness was complaining of an upset stomach, difficulty in breathing, occasional coughs that turned bloody over time and spiking fevers - Again, all over a rather long period of time. If the culprit were to use a large dose of powder, the Princes wouldn’t have been able to finish all the food from the plate and, therefor, the Ricin would have been tenfold easier to detect. In this situation, however, small doses meant nobody would believe His Highness got sick because of the food, because of his healthy appetite, hence why he was treated symptomatically for unrelated, yet very possible diseases.” the Female Physician went on further with the deduction, which angered the Emperor even further. “These jackals won’t even allow my sons to eat anymore! From now on, every meal will have to be tested before any person from the Royal Family eats it. Find the culprit immediately!” the Emperor thundered, his voice echoing throughout the Hall of Mental Cultivation. “Your Majesty, if I may... Ricin cannot be detected with silver, and if it is put in hot meals, it wouldn’t be traceable anymore. There is no way to detect it. While ingesting the poison is admittedly the least toxic pathway into the human body... Even with a small dose, it starts to cause internal damage in as little as 6 hours after ingesting. In regular doses, death can occur in a maximum of 3 days, which means, to my understanding, that His Highness may have started being poisoned a week ago at most.” the girl spoke confidently, but also with a tint of reticence. “Are you trying to tell me there is no way of detecting the culprit?!” the man rose up from his throne, pointing his finger at her. “On the contrary. With the grace and cooperation of His Highness, the 4th Prince, a small pouch of herbs mixed with ricin powder was found in the pockets of one of the eunuchs helping at the Imperial Kitchens. That is to say... If the truth comes out that this eunuch was the one who put the powder in the food... We need a testimony and evidence that would point towards the mastermind behind this operation of regicide. His Highness was the Crown Prince and a mere eunuch wouldn’t be affected in any way by the future Emperor, however that may be, but someone who could benefit in having another candidate on the throne would get actively involved in working from the shadows...” she didn’t dare move her sight from the furious Eye of Heaven, no matter how much she wanted to avert her eyes and look at the Prince, begging to be taken away from there because the tension was crushing. “Yin Zhen!” calling out his son’s name, he stepped next to Y/N, bowed and knelt next to her. “The two of you did good in solving this crime. From now on, the two of you shall continue unmasking the truth of this mystery and bring justice to my son, the Crown Prince, got it? No matter who it is, I will have them punished!” the Emperor’s last command was abided by the two of them bowing to the ground and calling out their responses - “Yes, Your Majesty!”

And thus, the Hall of Mental Cultivation was cleared and the two people in cause walked away, looking at each other and letting out sighs of relief.

“Let’s not do that again.” the girl managed to mutter, putting the back of her hand to her forehead, exhausted from the trial. “You’re tired just from this? I was expecting a lot worse.” the Prince smirked at her, seeing her roll her eyes. “Yes, well, the Royal Family business isn’t for me. I’m fine just healing people and studying. It’s actually relaxing, you should try that once in a while.” she nudged him softly, only for him to stop in his tracks. “What if I tell you I want you to join the Royal Family.” he crossed his arms, looking at her with a playful expression. “I’d tell you... You’ve lost your mind... And that nobody would agree to something like this. I suppose I should remind you that... I am a commoner and you are, and I hope it doesn’t come as a shock to you, not only the Prince but... A very strong candidate at being the next Crown Prince.” she shook her head in amusement. “Father wants to promote you to Noble Lady Shuyu.” he refuted immediately. “Having ‘Noble’ in a title does not make you of noble birth. Don’t make it difficult for either of us, Yin Zhen. Not to mention, you would be doing me a great disservice by marrying me.” she explained, cautiously looking around for any prying eyes. “How is giving you a life of unlimited luxuries means I’m doing you a disservice?” he stepped closer to her, holding her hands to his chest. “I am jealous, first of all. Even if I am to be your main wife, which, by the way, is impossible, you would still need to have a huge amount of concubines because that is the life of a Duke and/or the Emperor, should you actually get the title. That doesn’t exactly sit amazingly well with me to begin with... And that also means I’m not exactly the most Virtuous, Selfless and King Empress that everyone would want the woman holding this title to be. That and... If I marry into the Royal Family, I won’t be able to continue my Physician work, and I will only have to stay inside a stupid, but nicely furnished palace, with tons of servants to do whatever the hell I want and many more other women who will be jealous of me and will plot to kill me. Ah, yes and the unfortunate case of you getting bored of me for a younger girl, when we get older, but that’s just that.” she got her hands back, and smiled at him sarcastically. “You’re an impossible woman, you know that, right? If you do, you should also know that, for you, I would give up the title of Crown Prince. If I am a duke, then it shouldn’t matter if I marry one woman alone, and whether or not she continues her hobby of healing people in a palace far away from the Forbidden City, where there would be no envious eye that would wish you harm. How does that sound.” his words were soft and gentle, and with every sweet word, he could see the girl’s defenses lowering down, bit by bit. “You would be an idiot to turn down the title you worked so hard for, especially after this perfect opportunity has just knocked on our doors. Don’t be stupid, Yin Zhen. I can still love you even if we are not legally married. Listen, we both know the 2nd Prince is the culprit, right? Him and his lousy mother of his, who wants to become the next Empress. I have a plan to take both of them down, and if we succeed, your place on the throne is automatically... But we have to be very smart about it. Very, very smart. Are you in?” she turned to look at him, as he stepped very close to her, cupping her face and kissing her forehead. “Since when have you become so scheming?” he asked, proud and amused. “Since I have a reason to win.” she winked at him, putting her hand on his face so he could lean down and hear the plot.

Months passed, and Y/N has been as busy as ever taking care of the women of the Harem since Imperial Concubine Yu was pregnant and the Empress, the late 1st Prince’s mother, protectively took her under her wing, while the sole Female Physician was to take care of her.

Thankfully, every plan was set in motion and time flew so fast, it was unexpected that 9 months already passed and the Concubine was ready to give birth already. Unfortunately for her, the Empress, along with the Empress Dowager, were away to pray for Buddha, and thus, the Noble Consort was now the most powerful woman in the Harem, and able to take decisions in place of the Empress.

As Y/N helped the Concubine give birth, to her shock, she realised the baby was very much yellow - But not only the little prince’s body, but his eyes as well. It caused a lot of shock and stir ups... But the unfortunate timing of arrival of the Noble Consort was enough to grab the baby from the midwife’s hands and toss is carelessly to the eunuchs who was digging a hole in the backyard of the Empress’s palace, to bury the infant alive, while the poor Concubine mother was frantically trying to escape the grasp of the eunuch keeping her away so she could rescue her baby.

But it was in vain, and no matter how much the mother begged, the Consort was absolutely ruthless. She was digging into the dirt, trying to rescue her child, but all of the Empress’s maids were uselessly staring, frightened and very much afraid for their lives.

Smartly, Y/N went inside the Empress’s palace and took her seal - As she ran back to the scene of the crime and yelled at the Consort to end this mess.

“The golden seal of the Empress is here! Enough of this mess! Yes, the infant has golden eyes, but the truth is, this might just be a medical problem, and we cannot know for sure if it is not investigated! Under such context, we must wait for Her Highness the Empress to make the decision! Noble Consort, I have begged you again and again to cease your actions, but I have no other way of stopping you. Seeing this golden seal is like seeing Her Highness the Empress herself, whether the 17th Prince is indeed sick, and how Noble Lady Yu should be dealt with, we must all wait for the decree of Her Highness the Empress. Any other person isn’t allowed to take any arbitrary action!” as Y/N glared angrily at the Noble Consort, showing off the Imperial Box that was hiding the Empress’s seal, the well known voice of the Eunuch announcing his Majesty’s arrival resounded through the place. “What happened?” the Emperor asked, followed by the 2nd, 3rd and 4th  Princes. “Greeting His Majesty. Your Majesty, the little prince was born with golden pupils. His whole body is yellow. The Empress isn’t in the palace. I’m enforcing the palace law on her behalf. I was just about to punish the mother and child, but who knew that the servants of Changchun Palace would publicly stop me.” the Consort threw a shady look at the Physician. “Your Majesty, I dare not hinder Noble Consort in implementing the law. It’s just that Her Highness the Empress repeatedly instructed that we all must protect Noble Lady Yu. Before the Empress returns, no one is allowed to make punishments without permission. Moreover, whether the little prince is indeed sick or not, as a Physician, I must advise everyone not to make conclusions based solely on what we see. There was no time for me, or any of my colleagues to check the health of the little prince, therefor, this may all just be an unfortunate misunderstanding, not a bad omen. The action of Her Highness the Noble Consort is too hasty.” Y/N confidently explained the problem for the Emperor. “You wench, how dare you speak ill of my mother?!” the new Crown Prince, the 2nd Prince, rushed forward to slap the girl’s face angrily. “Father, there is nothing impossible in this vast world. I, who has been studying various Western practices would know that what we may consider impossible or strange, other would deem normal, and vice versa. It may just be as the Female Physician says - That the 17th Prince’s golden pupils are just because of some strange illness that, if treated, will disappear.” the 3rd Prince stuck up to the girl. “Your Majesty, my child surely has some weird illness! I beg you, Your Majesty, I beg you to immediately have him treated.” the mother’s pleas melted the Emperor’s heart. “Li Yu.” the Emperor called out his head eunuch. “Call the Imperial Medical College for a consult. And find out if Physician Y/N’s father returned from his trip abroad.” and thus, the Emperor called everyone in cause once again to the Hall of Mental Cultivation to hear the testimonies and make a decision.

Two elder doctors came inside the Palace and reported their explanations to the Emperor, while the poor, desperate mother was thrown out of the room so she could calm down and stop shrieking.

“I’ve seen a lot of babies with yellowish faces, but I’ve never seen a case where the pupils are also golden yellow.” one of them explained. “Is there no way to cure him?” Yin Zhen asked the Physicians. “This is not an illness, so there is no way to cure it. There is no such thing as a child with golden pupils in this world.” Physician Zhang answered adamant. “I know Your Majesty is unwilling to do it, but if we don’t resolve it today, if the sun rises tomorrow, the news that a Noble Lady of the Forbidden Palace has given birth to a child with golden pupils will spread to the empire as if it has wings. I fear that people will be in panic and it will be hard to handle the consequences. Hence, I hardened my heart, all for Your Majesty’s sake, for the Qing Empire. Even if everyone will blame me for it, I won’t mind. Your Majesty, why are you still  hesitating?” the dead silence that followed was, as if on cue, disturbed by the baby’s cries. With a hurried smile, Y/N hurried to take the baby in her arms and kneel in front of the Emperor. “Your Majesty, look! Although the little prince is yellowish all over, his cry is very strong! Your Majesty, he is a live person and he is connected with Your Majesty by blood! How could you kill him so easily?!” Y/N spoke quickly, hoping to appeal to the Emperor’s soft heart strings. “Isn’t the Empress to kind? Indulging a mere physician to act like this? When your masters are talking, how could you interfere?!” the Noble Consort harshly reprimanded the girl. “I recognize my mistakes, however, as a Physician myself, while it is true that I do not know everything in this world, I can also say that I had my fair share of travelling, albeit, not as much as my father. The yellowing of the body may as well be jaundice, especially if we take into account the severity of the colour. In some texts that I have read, it is said that, on rare occasions, if the jaundice is severe, it may even affect the colour of the eyes. Your Majesty, I have no reason to work against anyone. My work is to heal people, which is why I am fighting so hard to save this child - Not only because he is Your Majesty’s child, but because all lives must be treasured and treated with great importance. If this child is sick and I can cure him, than I have done my purpose in life.” the girl gritted her teeth, trying to control herself. “Father, can’t you see you’ve been indulging this wench for far too long? You give a common wench a helping hand, and now look how unruly and disruptive she is! Speaking back to her superiors! Shameless!” the Crown Prince growled at the girl who was incriminating his mother. “Father, if I may - As Physician Y/N said, all of our Imperial Physicians have been working only inside the palace for so long. If a strange illness occurs, they may have no knowledge of that, perhaps even outside of the usual textbooks. If I understood correctly, Y/N father has returned to the palace just yesterday, perhaps his opinion will be of use, should this simply be a case of misdiagnosis.” the 4th Prince quickly defended her. “Nonesense! Could a distinguished Imperial Physician of the Imperial Medical College have less knowledge and experience than a common maid like you with no proper training or education?” Physician Zhang scoffed at her. “Your Majesty, although I’m well-versed in children’s illnesses, there is nothing truly impossible in this vast world. Maybe there are still a lot of strange illnesses that I’ve never had a chance to be in contact with. Many Physicians tried to get rid of the plague, but only Physician Liyue was able to do it, a common man from outside the Palace with no former education. Just because we haven’t seen it, doesn’t mean it can’t exist.” Physician Yang spoke modestly. “Physician Yang, are you old and muddled?! A matter that you yourself isn’t sure of, you dare report it to His Majesty?! If a problem indeed occurs, a natural calamity or a human-made disaster, can you bare the crime? No. Your Majesty, this concerns the fortune of the Qing Empire. You mustn’t be soft-hearted.” the Noble Consort quickly responded as harsh as ever.

However, just as she said that, Y/N’s father clumsily stepped inside the room and knelt next to his daughter, greeting the Emperor who, in haste, told him to check the child.

In doing so, he merely smiled and said the same diagnosis as his daughter did.

Jaundice.

“Can’t be. Not like I haven’t seen jaundice in children before.” Physician Zhang refuted immediately. “That’s because you are lacking in knowledge. Your Majesty, this jaundice, even if it’s not treated, the little prince would recover within 7 days. This illness is pathological and related to the bile of the expectant mother. It is usually connected with the pregnant mother having too much accumulation of bile.” the father explained. “Your daughter gave the same diagnosis.” the Emperor muttered. “Can it be cured?” “Your Majesty, don’t worry. If I prescribe a formula to reduce the jaundice, in less than 2 weeks, the 17th prince’s jaundice will subside.” and thus, the Emperor ordered to have the child be treated with care...And the Consort changed sides as much as her face changed instantly.

And thus, the Emperor forgave the Consort and had this matter be banned from being talked of...Until the 4th Prince spoke up.

“Father, before we leave, I had urgent news to speak to you about, and they concern the Noble Consort.” the Prince left his father’s side and stepped in front of him, next to Y/N. “Is this about your brother’s death?” the Emperor’s face became grim as soon as he saw the nod of the prince’s head. “Very well, speak.” “Su Peisheng, have the body brought in.” the Prince ordered. “Noble Consort, you are not afraid when you kill a man, so why are you afraid when you see a corpse?” the Prince asked, simply, as he took off the sheet to show off the man’s face. “Do you not recognise him? Or perhaps, your son does?” the Prince interrogated the indignant woman. “What are your implications, Yin Zhen?!” the Crown Prince stomped in front of his brother. “Your Mayesty, this is the Mongolian chef from the Imperial Kitchen. While he is also the one who cooked food for Noble Lady Yu, he is also the one who prepared the daily Mongolian treat that the 1st Prince enjoyed so much.” Yin Zhen spoke up confidently. “That’s right... Your Majesty, I have taken care of Noble Lady Yu since the beginning of her pregnancy, and pretty early on, Noble Lady Yu was gifted Mongolian scones from her hometown. She loved them so much, I imagine she ate quite a lot. She said she had no idea there was a Mongolian chef in the Palace and she was incredibly happy to see that she could eat her home food after so long. She would eat three pieces every day - At least that’s what I saw, if she ate more when I wasn’t supervising her, I cannot know.” the Physician girl explained as she stood up, tall and ready for action. “Your Majesty, I had these scones be brought here as well.” the 4th Prince spoke and a scone was given to Y/N’s father. “Do you know what they are made of?” her father asked as he took a bite. “I believe milk was added to the dough, or ghee to the skin. She also ate assorted confectionary to replace staple food.” Y/N told her father. “Yes, I understand. Your Majesty, the child contracted jaundice mostly because the mother’s body is moist and hot, so the bile gets accumulated. I usually advise pregnant women to watch their food intake and not to eat too much sweet, hot and unpleasant smelling food, to prevent damage to the spleen and stomach.” Physician Liyue explained. “Ah, I understand. I didn’t give it much thought because Mongolian women are used to eating these things, but since she’s been away from home for so long, her body adjusted to our food, so naturally, getting a large intake of food from home again made her body react as ours would.” Y/N nodded in understanding. “Very well, so we have found out the truth behind the Prince’s illness. Now, Yin Zhen, tell me about the body. Who killed him.” the Emperor urged his son to speak. “We just have to look at who wanted the 17th Prince buried alive the most and we will know. And on who benefits the most in having our 1st Prince brother killed.” Yin Zhen explained. “That man is dead, brother. On what bases are you accusing me and my mother?” the Crown Prince sneered at his younger brother. “Your Majesty, the 17th Prince was just born, he is just an innocent child. Why would anyone want him dead? Unless... Someone didn’t want him to be born safely to begin with. Carefully thinking about it, since Noble Lady Yu got pregnant, Her Highness the Noble Consort has repeatedly made things difficult for her. First, using her dog to cause her trauma at the Imperial Gardens, and then repeating the same feat at the Lychee banquet organized by Her Highness the Empress. When Noble Lady Yu gave birth, the first person to charge in Changchun Palace was also Her Highness the Noble Consort. She insisted on having the 17th Prince buried alive. To say that this matter has nothing to do with her, it’s really hard for anyone to believe that.” Y/N accused the Consort, only to be, once again, slapped by her son. “Father, this is a conspiracy, don’t listen to the lies of this servant! It is a plot made to frame me and my Royal Mother!” the Crown Prince desperately tried to defend himself. “Father, if this is a conspiracy, why then everyone else asked for a Physician to be brought and inspect the 17th Prince’s condition, while only the Noble Consort alone was so adamant in killing the child?” Yin Zhen struck again. “Not to mention, even when Noble Lady Yu went up to her to stop her, she didn’t spare her. Instead, she ordered her to be killed along with the child. If she truly had no intention to kill, why was she so hasty and resolute?” Y/N chimed in quickly. “Your Majesty, you cannot sentence myself or the Crown Prince merely just based on a corpse and some speculations! This person is dead, who knew if someone else forced him to kill himself as to frame me and my son?” the Noble Consort shrieked desperately. “Father, when I sent my men to the Imperial Kitchen, they discovered one letter written in blood and 20 taels of gold. It shows that this person had sensed that something bad would happen to him. Father, look for yourself at the evidence left behind.” and thus, the eunuch brought forth a messy letter and the Prince showed it to the Emperor -” 'The person who will silence me will surely be the Crown Prince’ - And with this, father, we found a small pouch of Ricin laying on top of it. It means that the culprits behind these two crimes that we thought unrelated are, in fact, mother and son.” the 4th prince explained, picking up the pouch as well. “Wh-What?! What is this madness? I would ever use such a stupid servant to kill my brother!” the Crown Prince yelled out, but it was in vain. “Not only that, testimonies from the Office of Punishments came out. The men from the Imperial Kitchens that were involved in either of these crimes, all ratted out their mastermind and all point out towards either Noble Consort or the 2nd Prince.” the Prince continued, and the atmosphere in the place was harder and harder to bear. “Your Majesty! Your Majesty, it really wasn’t like this! I really didn’t know! I’m being framed! Framed! Me... My son...! We’re being framed!” the Consort tried to beg, plea and weep, but nothing worked. “ENOUGH! I don’t want to hear any more explanations from you. You killed my beloved son out of greed, just for you to become the next Crown Prince. I have overlooked so many of your mistakes and evidence of a possible coup... You were already the Crown Prince, what more did you want?! Shameless, both of you! Men, take them away! Both of them shall be thrown into the Cold Palace until further notice!” the Emperor’s rage seethed fear into everyone, as they bid his order, uncaring of the two’s desperate pleas. “Yin Zhen, you did well. Although a tragic truth, I was expecting this. As the matter of a new Crown Prince has to be instilled, I will make the final Imperial Edict tomorrow... However, you must know that you are the chosen one. I only wish that you do not act as carelessly and shamelessly as your brother did.” the Emperor sighed, feeling older than ever. “Father...I...! Your Majesty, you are magnanimous, I do not know how to thank you.” the Prince kowotowed to the ground, only to hear a weak chuckle from his father. “Rise, no need for that. Physician Y/N, you and your father once again saved us with your vast knowledge and expertise. I shall grant you both the title of Noble Officials of the Third Rank and shall enjoy all the benefits and luxuries that come with it. You have served me well and I am sure you will continue to do so in the future as well. You are all dismissed.” the Emperor said as everyone bowed to greet him off. “That worked better than expected.” the Prince smirked, looking down at the stunned girl. “Am I a genius or what?” she spoke breathlessly before starting to laugh in glee. “Dear, I have no idea what silly thing you plotted while I was away, but... I have to say, you pulled quite the stunt.” her father patted her hair lovingly. “I suppose once in a while I do like to have some dangerous fun, huh? Good thing I have two Royal Helping Hands to take me out of the water should I suddenly forget to swim.” she grinned carelessly, only for her father to shake her head, smiling. “Just be careful. Although... I am sure you will be protected. I will take my leave now.” and with a small bow, the left the three alone. “Was any of that true?” the 3rd Prince eyed the two carefully. “Well... She really did want to kill the baby by burying it alive. The rest was... Induced or fabricated. But nobody has to know, right? It’s all our dirty little secret.” the girl winked at him and, taking the 4th Prince’s hand, pulled him outside. “How does it feel being a Noble Lady?” the Prince chuckled, pulling her close to his chest and smiling warmly. “None the wiser.” she snorted in amusement. “Honestly, Yin Zhen, it’s just a title. It’s not like anyone is going to care in any way. I am still going to be just a common girl with no right to stay anywhere close to you. Besides, you know as well as I do that, in the very small chance that the Emperor does accidentally impregnate a common maid and he wives her, she is still going to be treated poorly and will be bound to the Back Palace alone. You know as well as I do that nobody is allowed to enter the Back Palace so freely. I don’t want any of that.” she spoke, cautiously. “If I am going to be the Emperor, that mean the whole China is going to be mine. It doesn’t matter which woman is my Empress, as long as all the other concubines are there for political reasons. All they care about is wealth, fame and luxuries for their families, but none care for me the way you do. You saved me from drowning when you had no idea who I was, and you rejected any gift I gave you that wasn’t useful for your education. I know you don’t want to be pretentious or have me think that you love me solely for luxuries but that does not mean I should be forbidden from pampering you whenever I feel like it. Just accept it. I do not want any other woman to stay in the Empress’s throne besides me other than you. Don’t deny me that, Y/N.” he cupped her face, making her look up at him, his eyes tender and filled with love. “I can’t do it, Yin Zhen. I can’t. I can’t let you damage your image. You will be the best Emperor China’s ever had, you cannot have a common peasant woman be the Mother of the Nation. You will found a woman to genuinely love you and care for you as much as I do, and she will be worthy of you, and of noble blood... And you will forget about me, and I will no longer inconvenience you. You will be just fine without me, Yin Zhen.” her eyes gleaming, close to tears, as she spoke those painful words, but the prince had none of that. “I will have none of that modesty and selflessness of yours. Keep that to yourself. I am going to be the Emperor. The Eye of Heaven. If I cannot even choose the woman I love to be my Empress, than what’s the point in being diligent in everything else? No matter how hard working you are, at the end of the day, you need to have clarify and peace from your confidante, and for me, that is you. I will hear no more of your excuses, I will solve all of them. In fact, I know just how you can get the ultimate approval from my father, as if everything you’ve done so far over the years hasn’t been enough. In a month, the palace will hold a banquet for the Princess of Western Liang and her Diplomatic Corp. I trust you and you alone to accompany me to this. I know it’s not something you are used to, but I will prepare people to teach you the basic according skills needed. This is all you’re going to need to do, and it will impress Father without a doubt. Please, Y/N. Do it for me. Do it for us. I want to marry you and love you. I want to see you dressed in the most gorgeous Empress dress, to have you by my side at the coronation, to see you smile as I put accessories in your hair. I want to see you happy, and I want to see you by my side every day and every night. Screw the rules, the Emperor can do as he pleases in his private time.” the fire inside Yin Zhen’s heart seemed to reach the girl for she merely smiled and, with an unexpected turn of events, she threw her hands around his neck and pulled him down into a deep kiss. “You better abide your own words, otherwise this Empress is going to drive her new hair pin into your jugular vein and have you assassinated in your sleep.” she muttered with a teasing smirk. “That’s the Y/N I love.” and with that, he pulled her into another, and yet another kiss, with as much fire, love and passion as the previous ones.

For the whole month, the girl, getting used to servants and new luxuries in her home, trained in all the skills Yin Zhen’s servants thought necessary, as to become a proper Noble Lady and, as he would always say, His Empress.

As she was practicing her walking on heels through the palace, her maid, Shi Lian, seemed to be in quite the mood for chatting, telling her that the Western Liang delegation came by just earlier that day and that they are carrying this beautiful, exotic precious unique hairpin. However, unexpectedly, a huge crowd started gathering all around the two and the people started pulling and pushing around aimlessly, creating a huge commotion, making her fall on the street. Thankfully, just as she was about to get crashed by an incoming carriage horse, she felt lifted up.

“Are you injured?” the sweet voice of the man who so heroically rescued her called out, brushing a strand of hair from her face as he protectively held her waist. “Thanks to you, I am. Are you my guardian angel or what? I can’t believe how perfectly you arrived to save me.” she put her hand to her chest, trying to calm down. “I had orders to greet the corp. You silly... It’s great fate that I’m here. I’ll bring you back and send for an Imperial Physician to look after you.” he spoke strictly, only for the curtains of the carriage to be harshly drawn away and a glaring woman to stick her head out of the window. “4th Prince, are you going to leave me and the envoys of Western Liang behind?” she scolded in an evil way. “...Yin Zhen, I am alright, I promise. Shi Lian is with me. You said it yourself, this banquet is important, you cannot leave. Go attend your business. I insist.” the girl looked him deep into his eyes, knowing that they always understood each other from their looks. “Fine. But I will leave a guard behind to escort you home. Take care, Y/N.” and thus, with one last look, he left, as Y/N could only smile at how caring and attentive her hero is.

The silly man, however, as expected, dotted so much on her that he called her own father to care for her.

“Miss, looks like 4th Prince really cares about you! Ah, before I forget, the Matron has a massage for you. This afternoon, the Princess of Western Liang will be visiting the Imperial Palace and you are designated as her retinue.” Shi Lian’s sweet and innocent smile quickly disappeared. “Oh... Great. I have to take care of a bitch. May the Heaven watch over me.” Y/N muttered as she leaned her head on her father’s shoulder. “I heard she is pretty aggressive. She’d bully maidens without excuses. She’s fearsome... Miss, you have to be more careful.” the maid held her master’s hands, looking worried at her. “Don’t worry, I can do it. If this is the last step towards success, not even all the torture Wu Zetian went through can stop me.” Y/N’s voice was low, dark and dangerous. She was like a fearsome lioness ready to strike and maul anyone approaching her cub.

The next afternoon, after dressing is soft and demure looking clothes, Y/N went to show the Princess around the Imperial Palace. The load of exotic jewelry would blow away anyone’s mind, but she wasn’t interested in anything except for the fine craftmanship and the great detail put into everything.

“Ah, it’s you who was saved by 4th Prince yesterday morning outside the palace! To think 4th Prince would ignore me because of a slave girl!” the Princess stared at her condescendingly. “I am but a humble Palace maid. Surely 4th Prince would pay his undivided attention to you, Princess.” the girl bowed respectfully in front of the Princess. “I’d love to see what you’ve got! I heard the Tea ceremony of the Great Qing is extraordinary. Blow away my mind!” the Princess ordered immediately.

Thanking Yin Zhen for having all his servants meticulously teach her every art needed, Y/N proceeded in preparing the Tea Ceremony in such an elegant and graceful manner that the Princess was greatly jealous.

“She’s just a slave girl! In what position is she compared with me? Somebody drive her away, I don’t like her!” however, just as she was throwing her tantrum, Yin Zhen’s eunuch came by to invite Y/N to the banquet.

With a smile on her face, she went back to her home to change in the outfit prepared by the 4th Prince himself, and at dusk, when the glowing sunset brought out Yin Zhen’s most handsome features, she saw him. Tiredness was painted on his face.

“Yin Zhen... You look exhausted. Will you be alright?” she asked softly, cautiously raising her hand to caress his face. “I will be, yes. I am merely worried about you... But seeing you like this lifted all my worries. You are the most beautiful woman in the world.” saying so, he caressed her hand, kissing it.  “I have to look my best when standing besides the most handsome man in the world, correct?” she winked cheekily at him, and thus, they went together inside the palace where the banquet was taking place.

There were songs, and dances, and just about anything you could expect - And there, on display, the precious hairpin of Western Liang, the jewel inlaid to it glistening mesmerisingly.

Seeing her confused look, he explained that the envoys are willing to part with the hairpin as a tribute only if they pass several tests. As it was a matter o Great Qing’s reputation, His Majesty couldn’t possibly refuse.

“Three tests and the hairpin is ours? How arrogant. No matter, I’m sure we can beat them.” the girl scoffed, standing besides Yin Zhen’s seat.

The first test, as expected, was Music. Western Liang sends out an envoy adept in music. The test is rather prompt to the palace and no one is prepared for that, so no one responds. Truly, perhaps she was a master at playing Pipa, and she was beautiful too, but that was not to say some intimidation wouldn’t work on the arrogant and prideful Western Liang.

“How do you like this song, Your Highness?” the girl asked, a proud smile on her face. “Very well. Your pipa is superbly crafted.” the Emperor spoke, making the girl frown, indignant. “You only complimented the pipa. Does that mean you don’t like the song?” the girl asked, offended. “That is an understatement. Though I am not an expert, I can tell the song you played was ingenious. However, and pardon me for being blunt, your skill is quite ordinary.” the 4th Prince commented, making Y/N bite her lip to stop herself from chuckling. “This is the Number 1 ancient tune from Western Liang. Few people in Qara-Hoja can play it. The way I play it is considered sound from Heaven.” the girl was angrily gripping her pipa. “Sound from Heaven? That’s an overstatement! I might as well tell you, a song like that, any Palace maid in the Qing Empire can play.” and thus, Y/N walked forward, holding the beautiful wine pot, as if to serve the pipa player. “Any? Any maid at all? Fine, can YOU play it?” the girl asked, volcanic-like. “No really... But the song you played... I’ve been practicing it since childhood.” and thus, Y/N sat down in place of the Western Liang pipa player and played her own tune with perfect dexterity. “If a Palace Maid can play it, why am I here?” and thus, the first win was awared to the Qing Empire.

With a modest bow, Y/N went back by Yin Zhen’s side, and to the trained eye, it was obvious the both of them were radiating with pride for one another.

The second test is about Poetry. Western Liang’s envoy is rather accomplished in literature, however, no one can defeat Yin Zhen’s outstanding talent.

“Y/N, you write for me. You have beautiful calligraphy and can write fast enough. I trust you.” and thus, the two of you sit down at a table in the middle of the banquet - Yin Zhen pours out elegant line after line, as Y/N carefully writes down the love poem that, no doubt was dedicated to her. An hour elapses and neither admits defeat. No one dares to even breathe heavily, fearing they might disturb the two poets.

Despite everyone’s concentration, the ink maid’s hand trembles just enough to pour ink all over Y/N’s paper and clothes.  “What’s your problem?!” Y/N gasped from shock at being covered by the black liquid. “Pardon me, I didn’t mean it!” the maid nonchalantly says as she bows to the groud. “I saw it perfectly. That maid didn’t mean it... But the maid that writes has got such a temper!” unable to say anything, Y/N looked at the Prince who allowed her to quickly go change into another outfit, just as beautiful and chosen by him, and return. That Princess was going to be roasted pork very soon. “Careless as that maid is, this one is only too stupid. They both should be punished, or that’s unfair for 4th Prince.” the evil Princess sneered. “Western Liang is nowhere near the sea, but I have a feeling the Princess of Western Liang lives by the sea.” Yin Zhen retorted immediately. “What does that mean?” the Princess asked, confused, only for Y/N to smirk at her beloved’s silver, witty tongue. To think that this Bitchy Princess would trouble herself with a sea of trivials, despite her affections for him. “Your Highness, I am willing to make up for my mistake and write down what 4th Prince just composed, not missing a single word.” and so she did, shocking the Princess with her fantastic memory and even more, her elegant calligraphy. And thus, Yin Zhen gets easily the 2nd win.

The two then needed a break and went outside, to look at the beautiful moon and feel the chilly breeze of Spring. Y/N, without a care, leaned on Yin Zhen’s, sighing content.

“I know I’m amazing, but to think some bitchy Princess would get jealous of me... That’s something else.” Y/N muttered, clinging lazily on his sleeve. “I know she has ill-intentions towards you. That maid, my men have been tracing her. She is working for the Princess to frame you.” the Prince spoke, aggravated. “Well, good for her. She couldn’t beat us. We are the true perfect match of Heaven and Earth. Nothing can keep us apart.” Y/N scoffed at the lame princess’s intentions, making the Prince chuckle.  “Fearless as always. You are incredible.” he commented, simple, but effective. “Oh, you should see yourself, my darling. Do you know what the 3rd test is about?” she asked, only to see him shake his head. “Not sure yet, no. But whatever it is, I fear the Princess would want to be the one to compete against you. She’s just that petty.” the Prince explained, only for a servant to call the two inside.

Apparently, the Princess decided that the last test would be, lo’ and behold, Dancing. It was perfect. She knew just what to do.

“I am just a maid. Never have I thought I’d have the privilege to compete against Her Highness, the Princess of Western Liang.” Y/N bowed in front of the Princess gracefully, only for the Princess to sneer arrogantly. “You don’t deserve it! However... You played a part in the two previous tests. I’d like to see if you really have what it takes, or you are just borrowing help from the 4th Prince. So? You dare not?!” the Princess raised her voice aggressively. “I do have nothing that’s worth mentioning... However, I do believe that dancing should be one of my strengths. Allow me to change into the appropriate outfit for dancing and I shall show you, Your Highness.” and thus, Y/N quickly left the banquet to change into a beautiful Tang dynasty pink outfit the flowed like water around her, highlighting her featured delicately. Her hair, she had the top part in a bun, with beautiful golden hair pins decorated with agate and pearls, and wore agate earrings as well. On her face, despite the gorgeous make up, she had a half mask, outstandingly embellished with different precious gems that would sparkle brighter than the whole Western Liang.

Y/N watched the Princess dancing first - A rather basic dance, beautiful, yet, but of no fantastic feat. Despite all this, all envoys seem to think very little the little Physician girl, and even His Majesty and his Ministers seem to show little faith in her. Understandable, she thought, considering that all her life she strayed away from luxuries and feminine arts and studies. 

“Do you see? Looks like you are just a slave girl to everyone! You don’t deserve the competition against me!” the Princess laughed, taunting the girl, who merely smiled. “Then, Your Highness might want to be careful... Because losing to me... It’s really mortifying.” and thus, hearing the Prince reassuring his father that she will win without a doubt, Y/N proceeded in dancing the most beautiful dance.

Lanling Prince in Battle.

Throughout the month, she has been perfecting this dance in front of Yin Zhen, and it was his favourite. Such a tragic love story, of two lovers, their hearts and souls united in life and in death, no matter what. A love story of a woman loving a man so much that she would even march to war to bring him back. A love story of a man so tormented by his wife’s death that he goes insane and destroys everything in his path.

The half mask, symbolizing the beautiful features of the man, and the beautiful face of the woman, a dance that symbolizes their feelings, their love, themselves, the fate, their life - A single dance, a single person, symbolizing two soulmates.

It was the perfect dance, and it was to no wonder that this was their favourite dance... To dance together. Although it was a dance for one person alone, Yin Zhen could never resist embracing her and dancing with her. He couldn’t resist touching her and holding her up in his graces as if she was a Goddess.

It took every ounce of strength the Prince had not to join her in the dance, but as she finished, everyone was so in awe that they forgot to breathe, only to then burst into cheerful and loud applause.

“I... Lost? No... No way... How...?” the Princess was shocked as if by lightning. Absolutely horrified that a slave girl was infinitely better than her. “Do tell me how the Prince helped me here.” Y/N smirked condescendingly at the Princess who started growling. “Y-You...! How dare you?! A stupid slave girl, speaking back to me?! You deserve to be punished!” the Princess started wagging her finger accusatory at her. “Like you wanted to punish the maid who deliberately threw ink on the poem paper, realizing that Western Liang cannot, in this world, beat the Prince’s genius? Is this what Western Liang has to do to win? Cheat and frame? How ridiculous and disappointing.” Y/N shrugged simply, walking by the 4th Prince’s side. “Your Majesty! She wants me to call white black and even sow discord between the two nations! Justice be served, Your Majesty!” the maid shrieked, pointing at Y/N, as the girl sighed, taking off the mask. “I’m the bad guy now, huh?” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “I got my people, and you don’t have the right to an opinion here. You are from Western Liang.” the Prince, having made a secret investigation earlier, seemed to have enough evidence to get those two into trouble, but now enough to actually create a war. “As virtue rises one foot, vice rises ten. Prince, you are incredible. The maid was going to make you trip. If you had, no matter how beautiful you danced, there was no way you would have won. Still, you were as beautiful as ever. Congratulations, you are the reason behind Qing’s wins. I told you I know why I have faith in you completely.” he praised as he poured her a cup of wine, making her seat next to him and celebrate their win, as the Princess is taken out of the palace to receive punishment when she returns home.

And thus, Western Liang not only lose all 3 tests, but they are also completely humiliated by their Princess’s cheating, and present the hairpin, shamefully.

“Son, you earned this hairpin, I will confer it upon you!” the Emperor handed the hairpin to his son, who bowed his head as a thanks. “I thank you, Royal Father. However, may I ask for another grace? To give it to someone else?” he asked, as the Emperor laughed. “Now that I’ve given it to you, it’s totally up to you.” and thus, as Yin Zhen opens the delicately embellished box, he takes out the hair pin, walking in front of Y/N. “Come here. I promised I will be the one to put accessories in your hair. You earned this, my love.” he said as he put his hand on her waist, kissing her forehead. “U-Uh... Yin Zhen... Everyone is looking at us.” Y/N muttered bashfully, unable to look at him. “Good. I want them to know that you are my wife, and my future Empress, and that if anyone even dares to think of laying a finger on you, they are going to be brutally disposed of.” he smiled sweetly, lifting her chin up with his finger. “Very bold, doing that in front of even your Father. Very good. What a wonderful husband I have.” she chuckled lightly as she was guided outside, to watch the fireworks show. “I already told him I want to marry you. Wasn’t much he could say after today’s wonderful wins. I have to say, you are really good at making people do what you want.” Yin Zhen chuckled lightly, bringing the girl to his chest. “You know what I think? That you talk too much and that you should kiss your wife more often. How’s that sound, My Darling Emperor?” Y/N smirked like a vixen. “I love the sound of that... My Little Physician Empress.”

[inkdemonapologist]

IF YOU HAVENT READ BOO’S RECAP for the previous session (chapter 4) of our Call of Cthulhu But With Bendy Added game YOU REALLY SHOULD......

okay are u caught up? You got the reveal? 

okay cool

SO WE FOUND OUT WE’RE DEAD!!! Well, specifically Sammy and Joey have been killed(?) and this whole adventure it’s just been Henry haunted by his two friends, and we have just been POSSESSING HENRY every time we interact with the world in any tangible way, and every time we have a conversation it’s just been Henry Having A Conversation With Himself to everyone else’s eyes, WHICH I GUESS EXPLAINS why everyone has been acting so unsettled and frightened every time we start bickering with each other!! I have been just LOSING IT thinking back through everything we’ve done and imagining Joey and Sammy’s expressions and body language on Henry’s physical form. INCREDIBLE.

Also, while Sammy’s mind/spirit/???? is stuck with Henry, his ink-drowned body appears to have gone a bit prophet-y and is running around with this cult talking about serving his lord and sacrificing sheep, which Sammy would just rather not deal with. Sammy Being Deeply Embarrassed By His Ink Self is my favourite genre of comedy

(also credits to @sketch-cryptid for their henry design..... he’s just, v soft,)

OUT OF CONTEXT QUOTES AGAIN!

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (sketch-cryptid), and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[Sammy] [ooc] Unless one of them decides, “I'm not going to follow Henry, he seems responsible,” and just stays put at the hotel, then that doesn't help us-- [Joey] Well, Henry's "crazy," so [Henry] Honestly, yeah, I think maybe if we have Henry and Joey split off, then those might be the ones that they'll follow, which... leaves..... S a m m y  to talk to Senegal I guess;;;??? [Sammy] ...I don't know how to feel about the way that you said that.

[Joey] I guess once Joey's downtown he's going to, kind of look around and see if he was followed. [GM] Make a Spot (hidden) roll! [Joey] *rolls* [Joey] ... he is not going to look around and see if he was followed!

[Henry gets a hidden message in his sketchbook, "They're doing all they can, please don't blame them for leaving you."] [Henry] Okay, then, he's going to write back "who do you mean?" [GM] "Who do you mean?" [Henry] Yeah, who is "they"? [Sammy] Unclear antecedent. That's what I'm writing in the book, "unclear antecedent."

[Joey] Once he's back at the table, Joey is definitely drinking Henry's drink. I don't think he's noticed that it's not his, just, his hand came in contact with it and now he is drinking it.

[GM] Looking out the window, you don't see any guards, but you do think you see some black drips on the balcony-- [Sammy] UHHH CLOSING THE WINDOW. NOT ENGAGING. [Joey] Sammy Does Not See It... Sammy is Looking Away,

[GM] After a bit, he probably starts distantly hearing That Song again. [Sammy] WHY ME. UM.......... THAT’S FINE. It's just very annoying. It's hard to play music when someone is playing music loudly next door. [GM] It's quiet. But it's also Sammy.

[GM] There is a tough-looking individual that is holding a gun onnnnnn..... Henry! [Henry] Why me? [Joey] WHY HENRY?!

[GM] "Correct me if I’m wrong, but you're with Joey Drew Studios?" [Joey] Yes! And it's about fucking time you talked with us! [Joey] [ooc] Sorry, I rolled a one on my Bad Decision dice.

[Joey] [to our kidnappers] ...Can we have a car? [GM] ...........make another Fast Talk check.

[Sammy] ...Tom is the one being stabbed, right? [Joey] I guess? If he's already hosting whatever it is-- [Sammy] My dream ended with me getting stabbed... [Joey] Joey's gonna take a moment to kind of process that, and says something along the lines of, Well, we can't let that happen! Who else is going to write the songs? [Sammy] tHANKS,

[Henry] Really!! Can I get-- [Sammy] an amen [Henry] --a straight answer!

[Joey] Joey pockets the map, and he looks between the two of them............. and he bolts! [Sammy] oKAY, [Henry] Can I roll... to grab him.... [Sammy] Runs after Joey! [Henry] runs after Joey..., [GM] Um, okay -- [Henry] I want to make a roll to grab him, I will wrestle him to the ground. [Joey] I want to make a roll to lose them! [GM] uhhhh..... in retrospect I should've looked up the chase rules.....

[GM] *still looking up chase rules* Why is it all about cars?!? [Sammy] Get back in the car, chase after Joey! Sammy's gonna hit him with a car! [Joey] This is why he needs the cane later.

[Henry] DREW. You are not leaving us! You're not going by yourself, you're going to get yourself killed. [Henry] And then he's going to try to drag him to a halt. [Joey] I do think, Joey is just going to kind of stare at him,,, he wasn't ready for Henry to take that tone with him,,,,

[Sammy] I'm not really sure what decisions my past self thought most wise. Apparently, my past self thought coming on this trip was a good idea! [Henry] *mumbling* I don't think any of us thought this was a good idea.

[Sammy] Sammy really is impressed at the way that Joey is able to weaponise his worst qualities.

[GM] Make Spot (hidden) checks too, just for funsies. [Sammy] Oh! Oh just for funsies! Just a little, a fun activity, planned just for us!

[Henry] Have we ever gotten Binoculars’ name? [Joey] No. [GM] I know it, but no, you haven't. [Sammy] [in character voice] "Binoculars" works! We all know who we're talking about! [Henry] Oh, no, that wasn't in character! That was just ME wondering. [Joey] Henry's also wondering this, but just not saying it. [Sammy] Sammy just takes a moment to think about how much we don't need to know Binoculars' name!

[Joey] He is going to take out his gun, and then-- [Sammy] Oh! That's right! We have guns!

[Joey] Joey is going to toss the mask on the ground and step on it with his foot to break it. [GM] It... it snaps! [Sammy] [ooc] NO, MY LORD

[Joey] Sammy, is that you...? [GM] No reply. [Joey] ...Binoculars?! [Sammy] ........we really should've got his name.

[Joey] *pushes Sammy's voice out of the way*

[Sammy] We’ve gotta bring Joey back to life, so we can strangle him.

[Henry] Oh my god. I didn't expect ANY of this!! [Henry] I expected this game to be a short, fun session of, you know, Oh! That's neat! That's a Bendy, that's a Bendy right there! I DIDN'T EXPECT... THIS.

[Sammy] [ooc] I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT HENRY’S BEEN FAST-TALKING WHILE POSSESSED BY THE SPIRIT OF JOEY DREW.

[Sammy] Sammy thinks it'd be a great idea for you to go back and grab one of those Bendy masks, and put it on. [Henry] *sighs* ...would it make you feel better, if I went back and grabbed a Bendy mask? [Joey] NO.

[GM] And you hear a voice from the bushes say, "Anything for my Lord!" [Sammy] Oh god, it's me.

[Henry] NO WAIT, this is Sammy, I can't kill him! [Joey] Hit him with the back of the axe! [Sammy] Throw a projector at him, that works really well!

[GM] The creature skids to a halt, and the snickering happens again, and it says "I had you going that time, though, didn't I?" [Henry] Henry, uh, hesitantly stops running, [Henry] Uh, yeah, you did! Is this a trick, should I keep running. [Sammy] Well THAT's the sort of question that ALWAYS gets answered honestly!

[GM] It seems they're implying that whoever is currently the host made a deal that ended up with the Lurker starting to look like Bendy, and Henry being unable to die. [Joey] *distressed noises of realisation* [Sammy] That sure sounds like the kind of deal Joey would make, doesn't it?! DOESN'T THAT SOUND LIKE SOMETHING JOEY WOULD WANT, FOR HENRY TO NEVER DIE?!?!

[Joey] Joey is having his own breakdown now, because he finally accepted that he did something wrong, and thus his brain has gone into both overdrive and.... it's like a computer that's overheating, [Sammy] Joey doesn't know how to function when things are his fault.

[GM] Increasing your spiritual power, for lack of a better way to put it -- which you've repeated now, how many times? [Sammy] This buff stacks? That seems like an oversight. [Henry] No, don't tell the devs! [Sammy] I mean, admittedly, Joey has done a bit of, of cheating, I think? Which is unsurprising for him.

[Sammy] If Joey's the host, I wouldn't be surprised if whatever deal he made might result in him not dying in addition to you. [Henry] Yeah, it sounds like, in all the previous loops, either I died, or he died. [Sammy] I'm not really sure what I got out of this arrangement. [Henry] I'm not sure either. [Joey] *hopefully*... some quality time in Haiti?

[Henry] [to the ink demon lurker creature] Anything else we should know? [GM] It does a shrug. It looks real weird.

[shirtlesssammy]

3x06: Red Sky at Morning

Then:

Sam wasted a bullet on brodepency

Now:

A woman jogs along a lonely marina at night. She stops for a drink of water and sees an old timey ship flicker into existence and then disappear. It’s a little weird so she runs home. 

While taking a slightly male-gaze shower, a shadow lurks in the background. A hand then appears on the outside of the shower. She pops her head out to look around her HUGE bathroom only to find nothing. Too late! The noise was coming from inside the shower stall. She’s attacked and strangled. 

Sam and Dean are on the road. Sam’s getting a lecture from his big bro about using the Colt on the crossroads demon. It didn’t get Dean out of the deal, but Sam had to try. 

And jumping right into the case without exposition or anything, we find the brothers interviewing the aunt of the victim, Sheila. She’s 100% pervy towards Sam, but HAHAHA, amirite? She found her drowned in her own shower. She asks if they’re “working with Alex?” And Dean agrees right away. The aunt also mentions the mysterious boat (did Sheila call her aunt on her run home? When did she have time to do this?) “Do you think it could be a… ghost ship?” 

Yes. Yes, it is. 

She then touches Sam unnecessarily and GURR. 

Later, Sam and Dean discuss the case and the fact that ghost ships have been seen in this town every 37 years --and with it dryland drownings. 

So they’ve got to find what boat appears to people before they die. 

They head back to where the Impala was parked, to not find it where they left it. Dean freaks out and has a panic attack. UGH. I have that feeling when I forget what lane I parked in at Target so BBY DEAN I HEAR YOU AND SEE YOU. 

Bella appears and tells them she had it towed. So kind. Sam guesses right away that she’s the “Alex” that the aunt mentioned. She tells them to back off, and wanders away. 

A dude, getting ready for bed, finds his tub filling with gross, green water. He turns off the faucet and stares into the black water for a second before a hand reaches out of the depths and strangles him. 

Later, we find Bella interviewing the brother of the deceased. Sam and Dean interrupt and tell her to stop bothering the grieving man. They ask about the ship his brother saw, and the man describes it and admits that he saw it too. 

Bella shows up again to further antagonize the brothers. 

Later that night, the brothers watch the grieving brother box up his brother’s stuff. And I haven’t watched this episode enough to see the parallels before, but there they are! The guy sees them watching him and gets upset, realizing they’re not cops. He insults Dean’s car and tells them to stay away from him. He tries driving away but then his car dies. A drowned rat of a ghost shows up in his car. Before Sam and Dean (and their shotguns) can get there, the guy drowns. 

Later, while driving, Dean tells Sam, “You can’t save everybody, Sam.” (And, HAHA, certainly not his brother is who destined to die because what’s the fucking point of rebar anyway?) 

Bella, once again, finds the brothers. They’re laying low in an abandoned house researching shipwrecks. She knows what ship they’re seeing before they die. It turns out the ghost was a traitorous sailor that was hanged on this ship, but not before his hand was cut off and made into a hand of glory. They need to find that hand, and Bella knows where it is. 

We’re next treated to a little Dean objectification when he walks down the stairs in a tux. He hates it, but Bella is impressed. I can’t help it. Dean’s a cutie here. 

For We’re Going to Objectify Him Anyway Science:

They arrive at the soiree accompanied by a swanning musical score. Sam wriggles away from his handsy Gross Old Lady ™ companion to complain about his decoy duties. Dean and Bela show no inclination to give him any reprieve and slink off to pull their heist. Every door is guarded by an off duty cop, so Bela swoons in Dean’s arms.

He explains that she’s imbibed a little too much. A guard escorts them upstairs to a secluded den and leaves them to “recover.” Bela casually insults Dean’s intelligence yet again and then sends him off to complete the heist. 

Sam continues to experience non-consensual touching by Grabby Gertie. UGH SAM we’re so sorry.

Dean, meanwhile, cracks a safe - a scene which I find HIGHLY APPEALING. While he’s hard at work, Bela deflects the guard from discovering that Dean’s missing from the room by pretending to have a romantic interlude. Dean’s return is comically timed, and the guard leaves happy thinking he’s just witnessed a cuckolded husband and clandestine affair. I guess whatever floats your boat? 

Dean brandishes the hand of glory at Bela and they prepare to leave the party. Downstairs, Sam is DRENCHED in discomfort, but Grabby Gertie contributes something at last to the case. She reveals that the two dead brothers were rumored to have killed their ultra-rich father. And her niece had been involved in a fatal car accident as a teen where her cousin died. 

Dean and Sam head off in the Impala, only to discover that Bela once again pulled a fast one on them. She replaced the hand with a model ship in a bottle, which she stole while she was waiting for Dean in the den. 

Elsewhere, Bela fondles her money in a convertible until she sees DUN DUN DUN a ghost ship in the distance. 

In their room, Dean rants about Bela’s theft to an unsympathetic Sam, only to have Bela pound on their door. The ship’s after her now and she already sold the hand to someone across the ocean. As one does. 

Sam drops more case details: the captain of the ghost ship was the brother of the hanged sailor. “Very Cain and Abel,” Sam notes while I grind my teeth. The targets of the hauntings: people who have spilled their family’s blood. Dean taunts Bela while she sits in haunted turmoil. Dean, babe. 

Sam and Dean insist that Bela reveal her dark emotional secrets to them before they’ll help her which is some real trash behavior. Sam finally relents, and tells them there may be one thing they can do to save her. 

In a darkened cemetery, Sam lights candles around a pentagram. 

It starts to pour. Sam starts an incantation which reads “Azael, Castiel…” and I’m about to lose my goddamned mind. Sam continues to invoke the arrival of his brother’s husband in the following season like he doesn’t have any clue about Dean’s epic love arc with the angel Castiel.

The ghost appears, flings Dean across the cemetery, and starts to drown Bela. Sam frantically reads and as he finishes the incantation, the ghost’s brother appears. The captain apologizes for killing his “own brother” and I chew my own arm off. 

The two ghosts...cancel each other out, or something? Thanks for the symbolism, Chuck. 

The next day, Bela tosses some cash at the Winchesters as a thank you. “Ponying up ten grand is easier for you than a simple thank you? You’re so damaged,” Dean says. Bela calls Dean on his bullshit projection. 

Dean decides to take the money Bela gave them to go on a holiday to Atlantic City. (Amara, is that you?) Dean assures Sam that he’ll be fine once he’s dead. “You’re stronger than me,” Dean tells him. I shriek at levels so high it’s practically undetectable. 

“I’m a big boy now. I can take care of myself,” Sam retorts (not helping his case, let’s be honest). He tells Dean that the important thing is to SAVE DEAN. He wants Dean to care that he’s dying!

Dean stares at the road with the eyes of a drowning man, slipping helplessly under the water. “I think I’ll play craps,” he decides while Sam gives his best grouchface to the passing streetlights.

Shipping Quotes:

“How do you sleep at night?” “On silk sheets, rolling naked in money”

You know when this is over, we should really have angry sex

Don’t objectify me

 Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Leave a Piece of You Behind

Summary: Every time Hohenheim uses his alchemy he uses up the souls inside, leaving an emotional imprint on the world. 

He always swore he would never use it on Trisha, but one day, it’s unavoidable. As the souls make her whole again, it forges a strange bond between her and Hohenheim. It’s not quite telepathy, not quite empathy, not quite sympathy, but it’s something, and it will change the course of their lives forever and shape the future to come.

(Or: Trisha lives - twice over - and when Hohenheim returns after ten years on the road trying to defeat Homunculus, he returns to the family and home he was expecting to find.)

Rated: T

Content warnings: Childbirth complications and childbirth-associated gore. Very sick child. (He gets better!)

=

Leave a Piece of You Behind

1899

When Hohenheim first told Trisha his story, he made a promise to himself that he would never use his alchemy on her, and she laughed and told him not to make promises he can’t keep. For all he doesn’t want to taint her with what he is, for all his immeasurable raw power, he can’t possibly see the future and there might come a day when there’ll be an impossible choice, and alchemy is what he’ll choose.

Today is that day. Hohenheim knew it long before Pinako and Yuriy showed up and shooed him out of the room. Trisha’s water broke in the early hours, a good five weeks before she’s due, and there was bright red blood in the glossy fluid. She’s been crying with pain ever since, and he’s been pacing the corridor from the nursery to the bedroom door and back again, listening to Trisha’s voice get smaller and quieter, and Yuriy’s and Pinako’s get more and more concerned.

“It’s an abruption,” he hears Yuriy say. “We need to operate if we stand any chance of saving either of them.”

No. Not on Hohenheim’s watch. Not when he knows he can save both of them. Not when the midwives and doctors resident in his veins are already telling him what needs to be done, and the others are calculating how much will need to be expended to secure both Trisha and the baby’s lives.

He opens the bedroom door, and Pinako tries to shove him back out.

“Hohenheim, you really can’t be here.”

“She’s my wife and she’s having our baby and I know they’re both dying, Pinako, so let me in and let me do what I can do.”

Although Pinako trusts him as a person, she’s never quite trusted his strange and intensely powerful alchemy, but she steps aside and allows him in. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen so much blood; the bed is drenched in scarlet.

Trisha is pale and cold and clammy, her breathing coming in shallow pants.

“The placenta’s come away from the womb lining too early,” Yuriy explains. “Trisha’s bleeding and the baby’s not getting any oxygen.”

Hohenheim nods his understanding and goes over to Trisha, squeezing her hand.

“Trisha? Love, can you hear me?”

“Hey, Van.” Her voice is soft, slurring and mumbling over the words, but it’s still there. That’s all he needs.

“Trisha, this will hurt, but I’ll make it better. I promise.”

She nods weakly and Hohenheim gets to work, ignoring Yuriy’s strangled bark of shock as Trisha’s abdomen slices open under his touch and he reaches in with red sparks flying off his fingers, finding the baby’s head and pulling him out.

Immediately Pinako is there to take him, level-headed and unperturbed by the whole thing as always, and Hohenheim can stop the bleeding, knitting layers of ripped flesh back together again until the entry wound is closed and there’s not even the slightest scar to show for it. Yuriy has since regained his momentum and steps in to make sure Trisha’s all right.

Hohenheim turns his attention to Pinako and the blue, unmoving bundle in her arms that she’s trying to get to take his first breath.

“Come on, Edward.” They decided on Edward for a boy months ago. Trisha had been so convinced she was having a boy that they hadn’t even discussed girls’ names. He presses his palm over his son’s chest, so tiny in comparison. The alchemy sparks again, and there’s a chorus of voices almost singing through his veins, encouraging the baby to breathe. It’s so strong Hohenheim slips into Xerxian along with them. “Breathe, Edward. Breathe, my little golden one.”

Edward finally takes a massive gulp of air and starts screaming loud enough to wake the dead, and everyone in the room bursts out laughing with sheer relief.

Pinako hands Edward over to him and his tiny flailing fist catches Hohenheim’s finger in a surprisingly strong grip for someone so incredibly small.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he says softly, but, although it breaks his heart to do it, he stops short of saying I promise. After all, he’s immortal and Edward isn’t, and today has already taught him the futility of making promises he can’t keep.

X

1904

Ever since the day that Ed was born and Hohenheim plunged his hands into her to save them both, Trisha has been oddly… aware of him. Even when he’s not there with her, she can still just about feel him in the back of her mind.

It’s not telepathy, not really, just a feeling, an impression, all very nebulous and no-one would believe her if she told them. Well, no-one apart from the boys, and even then, Ed is a born cynic. Just a feeling, nothing concrete, but it’s always been a nice reassurance, knowing that he’s still around and still all right.

In these last few months since he’s been gone, it’s been even more so. She knows that wherever he is, he’s all right, and he misses them all, and that’s all she needs to know. He’s safe, and he’ll come back to the boys when he’s done doing whatever it is that he has to do. He promised, and she’s told him before about making promises he can’t keep.

It’s just such a shame she made one of her own. She coughs wetly, but it does nothing to clear her aching chest.

I’m sorry, darling. I made a promise I couldn’t keep. I have to leave you first. Just be sure you keep yours and come back to the boys, all right?

Time’s been standing still with day and night blending into one for a couple of weeks now, and Trisha has no idea how many hours have gone by when she hears the gentle whisper of a familiar voice in her ear.

“Trisha? Love, can you hear me?”

“Hey, Van.” She just hopes he can hear her in return. Her voice is so small these days. She wonders if he’s really here or if this is some kind of feverish hallucination her brain’s conjured up to comfort her in her final moments.

“Trisha, this will hurt, but I’ll make it better, I promise.”

“You said that when Ed was born.”

He laughs softly. “I kept my promise though, didn’t I?”

She nods. There’s a piercing pain in her chest and she feels the lightning shock of alchemy course through her veins. It leaves her exhausted, every muscle pounding like she’s just run across the great desert to Xing, but her chest is clear, and she can feel that the illness is gone.

“There. Now you can keep yours, too.”

He squeezes her hand, and Trisha finally opens her eyes to see if he’s real.

He’s dishevelled and worse for wear from the horrible weather outside – his hair’s dripping on the blankets – but he’s definitely there.

“You came back.”

“I could tell something wasn’t right.”

That odd awareness must go both ways. Just as she’s been reassured knowing he’s been all right, Hohenheim has known she’s not been all right and he has not been at all reassured.

“How long can you stay?”

He shakes his head. “I can’t. I have to go again. I won’t put the boys through watching me leave again. Best if they think I was never here, and you got better by providence.” His voice is cracking, and Trisha can tell how much it’s breaking his heart to go again. “I’ll be back. I promise.”

Trisha doesn’t chide him about promises he can’t keep this time.

He stays until she falls asleep, and when she wakes up, he’s vanished like a phantom. Outside the bedroom door, she can hear Ed and Al arguing, with Al swearing up and down that Dad was here last night and Ed countering that he couldn’t have been, because Dad left and Isn’t Coming Home.

“He is coming home,” Al says simply. “He promised.”

“Al, you dreamed it.”

“No, I didn’t! Dad was here, and I saw him, and he promised to come back! He even pinkie-promised!”

Trisha sighs. Best laid plans of mice and men and Hohenheims and all that. She sits up in bed and calls out to her sons.

“Ed? Al?”

They rush in, beaming to see her well again.

“I told you!” Al says. “Dad came back and made Mom better!”

Ed’s too relieved to argue the point.

X

1910

Al always remembers the night that Dad came back, even though Ed stubbornly maintains it was all a dream. Even now, six years later, he remembers those few minutes more clearly than anything.

He wakes up in the middle of the night to a shadow in the doorway, peering in to check on them. It doesn’t worry him. Since Mom’s been ill, the Rockbells often come over at all hours to give her medicine and they always look in on him and Ed too.

The shadow is too tall to be Granny Pinako, it has long hair tied back so it can’t be Uncle Yuriy, and the moonlight is reflecting off glasses, so it can’t be Aunt Sarah and it must be…

“Dad?”

The shadow retreats and the door closes.

“Dad?” Al looks over at Ed, but he’s still fast asleep, so it’s up to Al to be brave and investigate on his own. He climbs out of bed and goes over to the door. “Dad? Daddy?”

He reaches up to open the door and pokes his head out very carefully in case of monsters on the landing. There are no monsters, but Dad is sitting on the floor with his head in his hands.

“Dad?”

Dad makes a weird noise that’s half groan, half laugh, and half cry, and he rubs his eyes, putting his glasses back on and looking at Al.

“I have to go.”

“Will you come back?”

“Yes.”

“Soon.”

Dad shakes his head.

“But you will come back?”

“Yes.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Pinkie promise?”

“What?”

Al holds up his pinkie and takes Dad’s unresisting hand, unfolding his pinkie and hooking it together with his own. “Winry says a pinkie promise is magic. You can never break it.”

“I promise I’ll come back. Now, be good for Mom and go back to bed.”

Al knows it happened, and even though he’s now old enough to know that there’s nothing magic in pinkie promises, he still has faith that someday, Dad will come back. It’s the only thing that he and Ed argue about. Well, they argue about a lot of things, but this is the only argument that they can never resolve, and they can’t get Mom to resolve it for them, because Mom has never had any doubt that Dad is coming back too. She knows he’s all right; that he’s still out there and he hasn’t forgotten them. She doesn’t really know how she knows, but she does. It’s a feeling. Al’s content with that, but Ed’s the kind of person who needs hard proof, and he just doesn’t believe that Dad will ever come back.

Al’s faith is rewarded the year he turns ten. The year he gets sick. The year his body starts to waste away and vanish in front of him. The doctor says there’s some kind of poison in his blood, eating away at him from the inside out. He can see the outline of his bones through his skin in some places.

Mom can’t stop crying, and once, when she thinks he’s asleep, he hears her whispering from her chair.

“Van, please, you have to know that we’re not all right. It’s Alphonse. Please, wherever you are, we’re not all right. I need you. Please.”

Mom cries. Al sleeps. Ed gets angry because he can’t do anything, and this isn’t something he can fix with alchemy. He’s even more angry, because if he believes that Dad did come back that night to make Mom better, why hasn’t he come back now to make Al better?

“Alphonse? Can you hear me, little one?”

The voice is very soft but instantly recognisable.

“Dad?”

“Shh. The nurses can’t know I’m here.”

Al opens his eyes. Dad’s there in the early morning light, crouching beside the bed. Mom is asleep in her chair. Ed is curled up on the little cot in the corner of the room. He can hear the rest of the hospital waking up around them. Al smiles.

“You kept your promise.”

Dad gives a lacklustre smile. “I’ll need to make another. I don’t have much time and I have to go again soon. This might hurt. Be brave for me.”

He stands up, covering Al’s thin and bony hand with his much larger one.

“Close your eyes for me, Al.”

Al’s always known that Dad’s alchemy is different, because it sparks red instead of white or blue like his and Ed’s, and he does it with touch alone and no circle. It hurts like fire shooting through his entire body, something more powerful than he’s ever achieved, and although tears come to his eyes, he doesn’t cry out.

“There. That should do it.”

Al rubs away his tears and looks down at his arms. They’re still so thin they’re almost not there, but they feel stronger already. Dad’s making to move away, but Al grabs his hand tighter, and after an awkward moment, he gives in and sits on the bed.

“Is that what you did for Mom when she was sick?” he asks.

Dad nods.

“Can you teach me and Ed how to do it? You know. In case we need it.”

Dad shakes his head, and there’s something so incredibly sad in his expression. “No, this kind of alchemy can’t be taught. It’s something only I can do. It’s why I have to go away.”

“Are you saving other people?”

“Sort of. More making sure that they won’t need to be saved in the future. Now, you still need to sleep to get well.”

“You’ll be gone when I wake up.” He doesn’t mean it to sound like an accusation, just a reason why he doesn’t want to go to sleep.

“Yes.”

“You’ll come back though?”

“I promise.”

“Van?”

Mom’s voice is hoarse and croaky from so much crying. Dad gets up off the edge of the bed, giving Al’s hand a final squeeze, and he goes over to her. Mom just sobs against his chest, the silent, shaking sobs that are the worst of all for Al to see.

“I have to go,” Dad murmurs. “I’m sorry, it’s still not over yet. I have to go but I knew something wasn’t right.”

By the time Al wakes up again, Dad’s gone, Mom’s tears are happy tears, and Ed’s too happy that Al’s going to be ok to argue whether or not he slept through Dad’s whirlwind visit yet again.

X

1914

Ed has had to accept that since it has now happened twice, Dad has indeed come back.

He just wishes that he’d stick around long enough to say hi to Ed whenever he drops in.

It’s nice to know that he hasn’t forgotten them and that he still sort of cares, but if he has to be at death’s door in order to get a flying visit, then he’d rather not. Still, at least he has Mom and Al safe and well. He doesn’t know what he’d do if he’d lost either of them, or God forbid both of them.

He tries not to think about it, and instead he throws himself into his research. Mom’s always said she’s got a feeling that Dad’s ok, and since he healed Al, Al says he feels it too. It’s hard for either of them to describe the sensation, but Ed’s determined to get to the bottom of what it is. He’s never heard of a side-effect of alchemy like that, although that said, Mom’s always been able to feel it, not just since she got sick.

Maybe it’s a weird quirk that has nothing to do with alchemy and just got passed down Mom’s side, and Ed didn’t inherit it.

He’s fifteen when the truth finally comes to light. It’s a perfectly normal day and he and Al are tidying their room – Mom has said that it’s a death trap and considering the amount of paper and books strewn over the floor in the name of research, Ed can’t say that he completely disagrees.

Suddenly Al stops mid-sentence, brow furrowing.

“Al? Are you ok?”

“I think Dad’s back.”

Before Ed can reply, there’s the sound of crockery smashing on the kitchen floor, and they both rush downstairs. Considering Dad only comes back when someone’s ill, and the last time Mom was ill she ended up on the kitchen floor…

But Mom is fine. She’s racing out of the kitchen and out of the front door, jumping into Dad’s arms as he comes up the path. He staggers but catches her, and they stay like that for such a long time that Ed gets somewhat uncomfortable with the display of affection and goes back into the kitchen, drawing a transmutation circle on the table and beginning to fix the shattered plates.

He can hear Al’s excited chatter at the front door, and suddenly, Ed feels like an outsider. Unlike Al and Mom, he hasn’t seen Dad for ten years. His last memory of him is him leaving, with that incomprehensible cold look on his face making Ed wonder what he did wrong to make his father go away. Even though Mom has explained countless times over the years that Dad is away doing important work, and that he didn’t want to have to leave them, but it was inevitable, Ed still feels that resentment and abandonment.

He doesn’t share the same bond with Dad that Al and Mom do. He doesn’t begrudge them it, because he wouldn’t wish their horrific illnesses on his worst enemy, but there’s a part of him, deep inside, that still feels a little jealousy.

“Edward?”

He looks up to see Dad in the kitchen doorway.

“Hi.”

“I’m sorry it’s been so long.”

“Yeah, well, I guess I’m lucky I never got sick.”

“Edward…”

“It doesn’t matter. Welcome back, or whatever.”

He pushes past, leaving the house and ignoring Al yelling after him. He stomps around the neighbourhood trying to get his thoughts in order until it starts to get dark, whereupon he returns home and sits outside on the swing forlornly.

“Ed?”

Mom comes out of the house and sits down on the grass in front of him, taking his hands in hers. “Talk to me, honey.”

“I don’t know how to feel,” Ed admits. “I want to be angry at him for leaving, but I can’t because I know he came back when we really needed him, even if he didn’t stay. I want to think he didn’t care, but I know that he did. And I know that the only reason I’m feeling like this is because he never came back for me and I never saw him and I never experienced that care, but I can’t stop feeling it.”

He sighs, but Mom is as open and understanding as ever, and her soft smile prompts him to go on, knowing that there’s no judgement in her mind at all. “You three all have this weird bond that I don’t understand. I mean, even you don’t understand it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful that he came back and made you better when you were sick. I know he saved your lives. I can’t say I’m jealous because I know what you went through, but…”

“You feel like the odd one out,” Trisha finishes for him. She squeezes his hands. “Even though you know it doesn’t make sense, you feel like he cares more about Al and me than he does about you.”

“Yeah. I guess that’s it.”

“It’s ok, I understand. So does Al. So does your father. And now that he’s back and doesn’t have to take off again in a couple of hours – a couple of days, maybe, but time enough – and now that you’re not five years old anymore, I’m going to make him tell you the full truth of what he’s been doing and why he’s been away so long. Maybe we should have talked about this more whilst you were growing up. I know that Al and I have always brushed this strange feeling that we have under the rug because we just can’t explain it, but I know how much it’s eaten away at you. I should have taken more of an interest in it. But the thing that always struck me is that you ought to be able to feel it too, you know.”

“I’ve never been sick.”

“Not that you remember, but your father did save you, like he did me and Al. Maybe you don’t feel it because you can’t remember. You were so, so little when it happened, you’d only just been born. You came early, you see, and there were complications. I was losing blood and you couldn’t breathe, and Dad had to break a promise he’d made to himself that he would never use his alchemy on us. He saved both of our lives that day.”

“Oh. I never knew.”

“I guess it never came up. But now you do know. Your father has always loved you, Edward, just as much as he loves me and your brother. Why don’t you come inside and let him tell you that for himself?”

When Dad next leaves, a couple of days later, off to put in place the final pieces of a puzzle ten years in the making to lead to a confrontation over four hundred years coming, he doesn’t vanish in silence whilst Ed’s asleep. There are hugs on the doorstep and pleas to be careful, and the three of them who remain behind watch him go long after he’s vanished out of sight down the hill.

Ed notes, somewhat ominously, that this time he didn’t promise that he would come back, not like he did to Al the previous two times.

X

1915

When the Promised Day comes, Ed and Al sit in the kitchen with Mom, watching the sky darken as the umbra begins to creep over.

“Is Dad ok?” Ed doesn’t know exactly how the connection works, none of them do, but right now he’ll take anything he can get in terms of reassurance.

“I think he’s all right for now.” Mom’s hands are shaking around her teacup as she speaks, and it’s that horrible for now that no-one wants to dwell on. Nothing more is said. What else is there to say?

Then everything goes dark, and everything becomes agony. Ed’s lost in a swirling vortex of pain, knowing Mom and Al are within touching distance, sitting at the table with him, but they’re so far away now, and some kind of instinct kicks in.

Dad! Dad! Help me!

Somewhere in the back of his mind, if he even has a mind anymore, Ed hears Dad’s voice speaking a language he’s never heard before but somehow still understands.

Breathe, Edward. Breathe, my little golden one.

He remembers Mom’s words from the day Dad came back to warn them about the Promised Day: You couldn’t breathe.

Breathe, Edward.

He can’t breathe. He can’t do anything. He feels like he’s living and dying at the same time.

“Hold on, Ed. Just a few more seconds. It’ll be all right. You’ll be all right. I promise.”

Dad’s voice is very faint and far away, but it’s clear as day in Ed’s ears and Dad’s never yet broken a promise he’s made to someone else. So Ed holds on, even as he feels like he’s being torn apart, because for all his tumultuous feelings towards his father, he trusts him to keep his promises.

It’s over.

For several minutes, Ed, Al and Mom just stay in the tightest hug there’s ever been, until finally, Ed speaks.

“Dad’s ok. I can feel it.”

Al and Mom smile, and he knows they both know the deeper meaning behind the words.

X

This time, when Hohenheim returns home to Resembool, it’s Ed and Al who drop everything and run out, taking an arm each before he collapses with sheer exhaustion. He sleeps almost solid for two days, only getting up to stumble to the bathroom or when Trisha forces a cup of tea into him.

She sits on the bed next to him, watching over him like he did when she was sick. He looks like he’s aged about ten years overnight, but she knows he’s all right. She can feel it. In the end, he kept that promise too – they’ll get to grow old together.

There’s a soft creak as the door opens and Ed pokes his head in. There’s a frown line furrowing his brows, and as Trisha beckons him in, there’s a hesitancy in his movements.

“Is everything ok, Ed?”

He nods, and for a long time he just looks at the lump of blankets currently masquerading as his father.

“Mom… When you said you could feel Dad in the back of your mind… Did you ever speak to him?”

“Just once. It was just before he came back to help Al. I was so desperate I was willing to try anything even though I knew that this odd connection wasn’t anything like telepathy. I mean, it must have worked in some respect because he knew that something was wrong enough to come back.”

“Oh.” Ed’s brow is still furrowed, and he comes and sits beside her, sinking onto the mattress slowly.

“What’s wrong?”

“So… he didn’t respond or anything? I mean, Al said he’s tried talking to him loads of times, but it never really worked, and we figured it must be because he’s only had that connection for five years.”

“No. It’s not telepathy, honey, we could never chat to each other. It’s just a feeling.”

“Oh.”

“Ed? What’s up?”

“I spoke to him. When everything went terrible on the Promised Day. I just yelled for Dad, and he replied. I heard him. And that’s never happened for you or Al?”

“No, never.” Trisha smiles. “It took a long time coming, but it looks like the bond you two share is stronger than we ever could have imagined.”

She knows it’s going to take Ed a while to get to grips with this. After years of what could be termed radio silence, suddenly the connection is not only there, it’s deeper than hers and Al’s. She wonders what Hohenheim makes of it, whether it’s just as unexpected for him as it is for Ed. She wonders if he’s always been able to feel that Ed’s all right in the same way he’s been able to feel when she’s not all right.

Trisha puts an arm around her eldest and kisses the top of his head.

“You’ll get there, I promise.”

“Yeah. I guess we probably ought to hope that we don’t need to rely on this weird whatever-it-is in the future.”

Trisha has to agree with that summation. Hopefully, it’s all over now, and they’ll finally be together again and can know in person that they’re all ok.

X

1920

Trisha worries when Ed and Al head out, leaving home in search of adventures and alchemy in the East.

“They promised they’d come home safe,” Hohenheim reminds her. “And this family always keeps its promises.”

“I know, I know. But I’m their mother, I can’t help it. I worried about you when you were gone, too.”

Hohenheim just smiles. They’ll be all right. He can feel it.

[bunnys-beetlejuice-blog]

bangs pots and pans together loudly FIC UPDATE COME GET YALL SOME JUICE

Apparently the vital, missing component to enjoying school was having a friend there. Go figure.

He and Kevin only have that first period class together, but they make the most of it, passing notes back and forth between the two of them, the teacher too tired that early in the morning to notice, or care. Lunch isn’t depressing anymore. They sit together under the shade tree, and Kevin does seem to also appreciate the view. “Can you even imagine working up a sweat, on purpose?” Betelgeuse pats his gut. “You know I can’t.”

“I can’t believe how little the track shorts are. That’s obscene. You think I’d look good in them?” “You join track and I’ll come to every meet, an’ it won’t be for th’ love of th’ sport.” He doesn’t think normal friends talk to each other like this, but he doesn’t actually know. Does everyone flirt with their friends? Are friends just cool people you wanna fuck but haven’t yet? Is it demon hormone bullshit, making him read into everything? Unclear.

It’s all going so good, until it isn’t, suddenly.

One lunch, two months into being there, Kevin pulls a huge and impressive old book from his backpack. “Look what I goooot,” he sing songs, waving it in Betelgeuse’s face, and he sneezes in response. “Smells old.” Emily and Lydia would love it. “It is. It’s very old,” Kevin confirms, and he moves so he’s sitting next to Betelgeuse, shoulder to shoulder, both their backs to the shade tree. “It’s about demons.”

Betelgeuse loses interest immediately, and focuses on not going pink at their shoulders touching, instead. “Z’at so?” he grunts. Kevin doesn’t seem to pick up on his moodiness, though. “It talks about all these ancient beings,” he explains, flipping pages. “Their summoning circles, their aspects,” he gives Betelgeuse a nudge at that, “all the things they can do for you, and the boons they grant.” He feels uncomfortable. “What’s with this? You obsessed with me, or somethin’?” He tries to play it as a joke, but that glint in Kevin’s eyes is back, and he doesn’t like it. “Of course, who wouldn’t be obsessed if they learned all this shit is actually true? It’s like there’s a whole secret world behind a locked door, and I’ve got the key.” Kevin looks back up at him.

He gets the feeling he’s the key. It’s not a good feeling.

“Where’d you even get this fuckin’ thing?” he lifts a finger, and the book slams closed in Kevin’s lap. His friend huffs. “Internet, of course.” “No, I mean… why were you lookin’ for somethin’ like this?” “I want to learn more. Don’t you?” Kev presses, and reopens the book. “I mean, what if there’s something amazing you can do, and you just don’t know, cause you’re not bothering to try?”

“So I’ll never know, so what?” Betelgeuse feels like this is a losing argument, but he tries anyways. “What’s so great about bein’ weird? You’re lucky you’re human.” “Dude, don’t even start with that. You can fly.” “So can humans,” he points out. “Wh- A plane and fucking levitating for fun are not the same, and you know it, BeetleJerk.” Kevin honestly can’t understand why he’s not excited over this. “I just mean… I’d rather be human, than this.” He blinks at his own words, because he’s never expressed that out loud before, ever. But it doesn’t feel untrue. “You’re out of your mind, more so than usual. Every human alive wants to feel special, and do the stuff you can do. Why are you acting like it’s so miserable all of a sudden? You use your powers all the time, I’ve seen you literally teleport five feet because you’re too lazy to walk.”

“You don’t get it.” He’s feeling sullen now, and he wiggles a little away from Kevin, and crosses his arms. “BJ, come on-” Betelgeuse teleports away to under the bleachers, and he eats his lunch there, until the bell rings.

He’s waiting for Emily after school, not feeling particularly friendly, when Kevin approaches. They stand there awkwardly. It feels tense, and weird, and he waits to see what the breather does. “Don’t be mad,” Kevin says, finally. “M’not mad.” “You sound mad.” “You know what mad on me looks like,” he finally turns to look at his friend, amber eyes burning with irritation. “First hand.”

Kevin looks down, and kicks at a rock that might not actually be there. “I thought you’d be excited. BJ, come on, I don’t wanna.. Not be friends over this.”

Betelgeuse signs, and scratches at the scruff on his chin. “It’s not like that,” he relents after a moment. “I just, I don’t care about that stuff. An’ I don’t wanna sit around, focusin’ on it. I don’t exactly like feelin’ different. Yeah, I do tricks an’ use my magic an’ stuff, but it’s hard to control. I lose my temper once an’ I could seriously destroy somethin’, or hurt my family. It doesn’t exactly feel good, knowin’ that. No one else my age can stand me, cause they can tell I’m weird. Before you, it was fuckin’ lonely, Kev.”

He feels a familiar pressure, because Kevin has taken his hand, and the human gives it a squeeze. He accepts it, melting a little against the other boy. “Still friends?” Kevin asks, and Betelgeuse purrs in response, resting his head on Kevin’s shoulder.

It’s not till later, at home, that he realizes Kevin never actually apologized.

```````````````````````````````````````````````````````

It’s like that, for a while. He knows Kevin still has the book. He knows he’s reading it, and sometimes Kevin will bring up demon stuff, but Betelgeuse has almost exactly a minute and a half of patience for answering questions or hearing about it. Still, Kev doesn’t stop. He might feel angrier if the breather wasn’t so god damn cute.

The air is starting to go cold, and leaves are beginning to fall. October is settling in, getting comfortable, and mom’s starting to break out the Halloween décor. It’s the middle of a kind of gloomy, Autumn day, when things get weird.

Kevin has the book open, much to Betelgeuse’s annoyance, and he’s blabbing away about a demon that supposedly grants wealth- “Do you think you could do that?” -when Betelgeuse looks down at the book, and sees Juno looking back at him. It’s not really her, it’s an illustration, but he’d recognize the bitch anywhere. She’s ink, glaring up from the page, those same age lines etched into her face, confirming his private theory that she’d been an old hag even when she was young. The slit neck is prominent, and as he stares, he sees smoke billow out of it. Oh, fuck no.

He grabs the book and slams it shut, startling Kevin, and then he teleports it directly under them, a mile down in the rock of the earth. Kev blinks for a moment, confused, before looking at his friend. “Wh.. Dude, WHAT?”

“Possessed book,” he croaks out, feeling tense, because he can smell cigarette smoke. “And you’re afraid of it? Why? You are also a literal fucking demon!” “That’s why I’m not messin’ with it!” Betelgeuse stands up, uneasy. The ground around the tree feels weird, now. He doesn’t like it here anymore. “Cause I actually understand why it’s a bad fuckin’ idea! God, you should have instincts that tell you not to mess with this stuff! You’re deficient, Kev, seriously.”

“Me deficient? Seriously?” Kev snaps, which hurts in a new, unexpected way. “Whatever, asshole. Give me my book back.” Kevin stands up, too, but he’s not uneasy, he’s angry.

“It’s better off where it is.”

“Which is where?”

Betelgeuse glances down. The grass around the tree is starting to wither. Kevin follows his gaze, but doesn’t seem to notice the dying vegetation. “You buried it? Come on!”

“Leave it, Kev.”

“This isn’t just your cool secret, anymore, it’s mine too!” Kevin glares at him. “You can’t keep me out of it, BJ. That’s not fair. God, at this point, I know more than you! You should be listening to me!”

He feels his volatile temper flare.

“Ex-fuckin’-scuze me?”

He waits for Kevin to take it back. Instead, his friend doubles down. “Demons have to listen to humans,” Kevin crosses his arms. “If they’re summoned. It’s in the book.” “Nobody summoned me,” Betelgeuse snarls, letting his real snake eyes show, an intimidation tactic that works for about half a second. Kevin’s too used to him, at this point. “I’m up here on a deal.” “Bet I could do it. I bet I could summon you. Then you’d have to listen to me.” “Yeah? Well, good luck without your stupid book!” He storms off, leaving Kevin standing there.

```````````````````````````````````````````````````````

The rest of the day sucks. He’s moody all day, annoyed in the car, grumpy in his room. He cranks metal and wishes he’d learned to play a guitar instead of his rinky, happy sounding ukulele. The instrument isn’t going to produce the noise he wants to express himself, right now. He throws it across the room, into a wall, where it smashes, and reforms a minute later, because… it’s still his favorite, after all. Even if it’s no good for expressing his teenage angst.

He can hear shuffling, and talking, outside his room, though he can’t make out what’s being said over the music. After a moment, though, there’s a knock at his door. “Hey, Bug?” Emily calls. “Can you come give me a hand with something?” He wants to tell her to piss off, go away, to leave him the hell alone, but.. It’s Emily. The CD player lets out a strangled choke and suddenly stops, and the door swings open, all without him moving from his flopped position on the bed. “Sup, ma?” he grunts. Emily peaks her head into the room, and smiles when she sees him, the expression radiating warmth and adoration and.. Oh, God/Satan, bless his sunbeam of a mother. “Just wondering if you’re free to do a little decorating?” She reaches behind her and grabs a fake severed bloody limb from the box he assumes she’s dragged into the hallway from the attic. “Don’t you worry it takes away from the “wow factor” to do Halloween twice a year?” He asks, standing and stretching, before apparating in the hallway behind her, and giving the decor box a nudge with his boot. “What? No way, there’s never enough Halloween!” Emily grins. “Get that, please.” The box floats along behind him as they head downstairs. They pause in the entryway, as Emily thinks out loud. “So, maybe the kitchen should be-” “Functional as a kitchen, please,” Charles calls from the living room. Emily rolls her eyes. “Okay, fine! Spoilsport! We’ll focus on the entryway for now,” she decides. “You wanna put up cobwebs in the rafters?” She gets on tiptoes to reach into the floating box, and he lowers it a bit for her, as she grabs the fake webbing. “I could just instantly decorate the whole room,” He takes to floating next to the box. “Could make sure it’s all normal human stuff, too,” He adds, before she can respond. “I know you can… But I like decorating,” Emily says brightly. “It’s not about getting it done quickly. It’s about, you know, doing it together.” “So why are dad and Lydia slacking?” Her smile doesn’t falter, but becomes softer. “It kinda felt like you needed some mom time, today,” She says simply. God, she can read him easier than Kev can read his stupid book. “We got in a fight,” he admits. She hums at that, because he only has one friend. It’s not hard to guess who he could possibly mean. “I’m sorry, Bug. What over?” He hesitates. So far he’s not let any of his family in on this book business. He’s been sort of hoping it could just go away on it’s own, and not be a thing. Kevin’s made it into a thing, though, and not telling even his mom feels… bad.

“He’s really into demons. Like, really, really into em,” He rasps, floating up and beginning to put up the spiderwebs, as his mother takes down the usual, sort of spooky wall hangings and trades them for her very intentionally spooky Halloween ones. “He’s got this book, an’ it’s all about demons an’ like, how to summon them, an’ their powers, an’ stuff… Sometimes th’ way he talks, it’s like.. Are we friends cause we’re friends, or friends cause you think I’m gonna be... useful?”

Maybe that doesn't make any sense, but that’s how it’s been feeling, like there’s an invisible shoe hanging midair, and it’s about to drop. His mother waits until he’s finished before looking up at him. “And you fought over that?” She prods. “Not exactly.” How the fuck can she even tell that, though? Damn her mom powers. He really, really didn’t want to talk about this, not to her, but… “I saw Juno. In th’ book,'' He lowers back down to the floor, and digs through the box, pulling out fake body parts. Back up he goes, to stick these in the fake webbing. “It was just a drawing of her, but it started like.. Billowing smoke-”

“From the neck,” His mother remembers, suppressing a shudder.

“Yeah. I could smell the smoke. So I got rid of the book, buried it in th’ school yard, but Kev got all pissy about it. He thinks he’s an expert on this shit, an’ he’s gonna mess with somethin’ big if he keeps this up.” “I’m sure you’ve told him that.” “He doesn’t listen. He gets this look in his eye, like it’s a game, or like… I dunno. Feels sometimes like he thinks he’s…” He searches for the words. “Like he thinks he oughta be the boss a’me, or somethin’.”

He rubs absentmindedly at the moss on his nose. It clings, stubborn as ever, same with the patches by his hairline, and he’s found it’s easier to just add another little layer to his glamour than try to do anything about it.

Maybe that’s indicative of a bigger problem. It’s easier to do a bit of magic and make everything look better than to actually fix the underlying problem. Ugh, introspection, how absolutely miserable. He wants to keep thoughts like that locked away tight, but they have a habit of slipping past his mental defenses and making him feel worse. Absolutely no one can make him feel shittier than he himself can. He sinks to the ground, going purple, and he’s instantly wrapped in his mother’s arms. “It’s okay, Beetlejuice,” Emily has both her hands on the back of his head, and he pushes his face into the crook of her neck. “I just.. I’ve only got the one friend,” he groans. “I don’t wanna stop bein’ his friend, but.. Fuck, ma.”

“I know.” Her voice is a soothing balm. She works her hands through the mess of purple hair at the back of his head. “I know, sweetheart. I know it’s lonely at school, but school isn’t forever,” she tries to assure him. “If your friend is treating you this way, well.. He’s not a very good friend. Do you want to be around someone who makes you feel this bad? Does it feel worth it, to you?”

He knows the correct answer is, “No,” but he’s not sure if his self esteem is high enough for that.

“I like him a lot,” He grumbles, and she hums again. “He’s handsome,” She says, and then pulls back far enough to pinch his nose. “But not as handsome as my son, of course,” and it’s silly enough to help knock away his mood, so that’s something, at least. “What should I do?” He doesn’t pull away from her, just soaks up the mom energy for as long as he can. “I think you need to have a talk,” Emily tells him. “Lay out how you’re feeling. Try to get his side of things, and make sure he hears your side, too. Then, at least you both tried, you know?”

It’s such a mom type answer. He groans again.

“I was worried you’d say some shit like that.” She fuzzes his hair, and he feels the tingle in his scalp that means it’s changed colors. Back to green, he assumes. “You know your moss changes color along with your hair? And your creepo-stache?” “Leave the stache alone, it’s tryin’ it’s best,” He pretends to be defensive.

“It makes you look like the founder of a forum for people who marry their cars,” Lydia offers, from the bottom step of the staircase, where she has apparently been just chilling and listening.

“Wh-! Mom, it’s not that bad, right?” Emily tilts her head to the side and gives what can only be described as a condescending smile. “Oh, you’re both in for it now.” He brings the various decor items to life to terrorize them, and then Charles joins his side, sympathizing with his son vis-à-vis bad teenage facial hair, and by the time the whole squabble is over, hardly any decorating has gotten done… But he does feel better. His family’s good like that.

```````````````````````````````````````````````````````

Monday rolls around, same as it always does, but there’s a weird feeling in the air. Halloween is a week away, barely missing getting a weekend date, but there’s some big Halloween bash the school is apparently throwing. There’s fliers for it everywhere, plastered all over lockers and bulletin boards. He’s not much of a participator, though, and his reaction to his locker being plastered over with invites to a party he doesn't care about is to snap his fingers. All the fliers on all the lockers up and down the hall, all instantly fall loose at once, littering the floor. A few students jump back, but no one looks his way, because why would they?

He’s grabbing his history textbook when he feels a tap on the shoulder, and when he turns, it’s a girl he recognizes, but her name is absolutely lost on him.

“You’re BJ, right?” Miffy askes, and he nods. “Yeah, s’right,” and Margo seems to wince at how gruff his voice is, before continuing. “Um, you and that guy Kevin, you’re like…” Milicent trails off, waiting for him to finish her thought, but sorry, baby, he can barely finish his own. “Like…?” He says, with his gravel voice copying her tone and inflection, and she huffs. “Together?” Marge asks, “Like, all of the time?”

He cocks his head, and squints at her, hands t-rexing at his sides, as Lydia likes to say.\

“Usually,” He concedes, and he gets the feeling he’s dragging this out much, much more than Mango clearly wants, because he spies a group of girls a little ways off, waiting for her. One of them is staring intently, more focused on him, but he pushes that thought aside.

“Look, okay, he’s gonna be out for a few days, and I’m just trying to see if you can take him his homework,” McGrubber has grown tired of having to stand here, talking to the chubby goth loser, apparently. “I’m a student aid in the office and they’re trying to make me do it, but I have track practice!” Thaaaat’s where he knows her from. She looks different, not bouncing and sweating and also not half a football field away. “Sure, fine, I’ll make sure Kev gets his work. Wouldn’t want you to miss out on running in a fuckin’ circle, Maria.” Her face sours. “It’s Blair.” So close. “Who fuckin’ cares,” He replies, and turns back to his locker. He can hear her rejoin her friend group, all of them fawning over her harrowing experience of having to speak to him in public. The last thing he hears from Blair is, “He’s just so goddamn weird,” and then the group rounds the corner.

He closes his locker harder than he maybe needs to.

Kevin isn’t in class that day, or the next, or even the one after. The shade tree has withered and died completely, it’s color sapped and gone, and even walking near it makes him feel uneasy. His new lonely lunch spot is under the bleachers, which feels even more voyeuristic of a spot to watch the track team, but even that activity feels tainted, somehow. He’s back to being lonely.

He can’t stand being lonely.

It gets so bad he contemplates sitting, wait for it, on the bleachers, and maybe even trying to strike up a conversation, but he’s too chicken shit. He’s been going to school with these kids for the past three years, and no one’s wanted to talk to him or chat with him in all that time. He can’t imagine that’s about to change.

Still, on Thursday, miserable and lonely, he gives it a try.

Sitting up here sucks. It’s just a hard metal seat on a gloomy day, and when he’d ventured up and sat down, other people had slowly moved away from him, until he was sitting by himself, all the breathers huddled in a different area, away from him. He'd tried talking, but hardly had a "Hey, how ya doin'?" grated out before the migration began.

Figures.

He finishes eating and lies on his back, resting his hands on his chest, eyes closed, and after a while he feels someone standing over him, and something laid over his hands. He opens his eyes. There’s the most beautiful girl staring down at him. She’s got long, bleach blonde hair, darker at the roots, which is hanging down in a halo around her face, and the biggest, clearest blue eyes he’s ever seen. He glances down, to see she’s placed a daisy over his hand. He looks back up at her, amber eyes questioning.

“You looked so still,” She smiles. Her voice is like music. He thinks he can hear harps. “With your hands folded like that. Kind of like an open casket.” He’d been forgetting to breathe, apparently, which happens sometimes. She thought he looked like a corpse, and she placed a flower over him.

“Sorry, if that’s weird. You’re.. BJ?” She asks, and he picks up the daisy, sits up, and nods. “Yeah, you’re…” “Barbara,” she fills him in. “You’re not so good with names.” “Mmm. Buffy tell you that?” He recognizes her now, from that group of girls. Barbara sits next to him, which makes zero sense. “It’s Blair,” she corrects him gently, but not without a giggle in her voice. “Oh, right.” Her name could be fuckin’ Moonpie and it’d make the same amount of difference to him, but he’d agree with anything Barbara said, if it meant she kept sitting there, talking to him. “Are you going to the Halloween party?” She asks. “Supposed to be pretty killer. It kind of seems like your scene.” “I’m not exactly a social butterfly,” which is the understatement of the god damn century, honestly, but she laughs and nudges her shoulder with his. “Well, I think you should come. I bet you’d have the coolest costume. Maybe think about it?”

“I guess, maybe..” He says lamely, because his brain is short circuiting from that small touch.

“Barb, come on!” someone calls to her from a ways away, on the track. Lunch is nearly over. She stands, and smooths down the long skirt she’s wearing, which is modest but flattering. “Later, BJ,” she smiles, and just like that, she’s gone, like an angel going back up to heaven in a beam of light, off to rejoin her friends. He can hear what she says to them, though. “You guys are mean, he’s not so bad. Just shy.”

He keeps the daisy in a little glass of water on his dresser, and strums love songs on his ukulele.

```````````````````````````````````````````````````````

Thinking about Barbara and her smile and the way she nudged him is a fun distraction, at least for a little while, but when it’s Saturday, and he still hasn’t heard from Kevin, he decides it’s time to demon up and see what the fuck is happening with him. He’s been just teleporting Kev’s homework inside his room, and he’s sure it’s falling into a pile on the floor each time and startling him, but no one ever said how he had to deliver it. Today though, emboldened by the pretty girl on the bleachers, he appears at Kevin’s front door instead, holding Friday’s work, and he knocks. It takes a moment, but Mr. Loh answers.

Betelgeuse hasn’t had much chance to interact with Kev’s dad. He looks like a normal, tired dad, wholly unimpressive, and kinda short. Chuck could wrestle this guy to the mat, no problem.

“Oh, BJ,” Mr. Loh says, and then glances at what’s in his hands. “Kevin’s homework? Thank you. He’s holed up in his room… won’t come out.. Maybe,” and he suddenly looks hopeful. “You two are friends. Maybe you can try talking to him?”

Well, that’s what he was there to do anyways, so sure. “I gotcha, Mr. L,” he nods, stepping inside, and heading up the stairs and down the hall to Kevin’s room. The closer he gets to the door, though, the weirder he feels. Something stinks, figuratively and literally. It smells like… It smells like the waiting room. It’s that same, veil is thin type air that he can smell on Halloween night, but how the fuck is he smelling it here? He bangs on Kevin’s door. “Hey, Kev, it’s the B-Man,” he calls, trying to keep his tone playful, but he feels like he’s doing a poor job. What the hell is going on? “Come on, man, open up!” He tries again, when he receives no response. He thinks he can hear a shuffle behind the door. “Dude, I will bust this fuckin’ door down,” He growls, all the play gone from his tone. “You know I will. Better yet-”

He appears inside the bedroom, just in time for Kevin to slam shut the closet door. Kevin turns to look at him, back pressed to the wood. There’s a beat, both teens staring at each other, wide eyed, Betelgeuse in that weird way he does, and Kevin looking frazzled. “What,” the demon grates out, “the fuck, are you getting up to in here? It smells like the netherworld, Kev.” Unfortunately, that makes Kevin’s face light up. “It does? Oh my god, that’s perfect! It must be starting to work!” He crosses the bedroom, going to his desk, where an old book is sitting open. It’s not the same one he took from his friend, it can’t be, that book is still a mile down in presumably solid rock. “Another musty ass tome, great,” he growls, but Kevin ignores him, flipping through the book.

He hates feeling ignored.

A black and white striped arm sprouts from Kevin’s desk, and slams the book shut, which makes the breather turn and glare at him. “Get out of my room, BJ,” is all Kevin says, and Betelgeuse ignores that, instead crossing the floor to get a look at that book. “Where th’ hell do you keep finding these fuckin’ things?”

“This one I bought from a one armed man living out of a 1973 Oldsmobile Delta 88 Royale,” Kevin recites. Betelgeuse squints at him, top teeth over bottom lip. “You’re too gay to know what that means,” he says, plainly, and Kevin shrugs. “He wouldn’t stop talking about his stupid car. I now know more about that antique than I know about geography.” It feels fun, for a second, like this drama isn’t happening, and they’re just having a conversation. It doesn’t last, though. He can’t let Kev off the hook.

“So you bought a second cursed book, this time from some amputee homeless guy, and you’re just, doing the rituals inside of it? And this seems like a super good idea to you?”

“I’m practicing,” Kevin replies.

“So what’s in the closet, Kevin?”

“Get out of my room, Betelgeuse.”

The way Kevin says his name is weird. It doesn’t feel like how it normally feels when a breather says the full thing. He shakes it off, and gives his friend a defiant look, before waving a hand and throwing open the closet door. There’s a cleared spot, in the middle of the closet floor, and a fucking summoning circle in what smells like, “Pig’s blood? Couldn’t get human?” He turns to look at Kevin, who is glaring at him intently. He matches the look.

“Betelgeuse Shoggoth, get out of my room.”

That gets his attention. It feels like an invisible hand is pushing him, and he stumbles back out of the room, confused. “W-what?” Kevin is just standing there, staring at him, and Betelgeuse stares back, eyes wild. “You motherfucker,” he hisses, eyes in snake slits, teeth sharp, claws extended. “You wanna do that “real name” bullshit with me? That the choice you’re makin’ here, Kev?”

Kevin doesn’t even look phased. “I’m working on gaining a bit more control, but looks like that works, for now.”

“You’re cracked!” Betelgeuse growls, absolutely furious. “You’re really tryin’ to summon me? Are you out of your head!?”

“You’re wasting your powers,” Kevin storms forward. “You’re a supernatural being, and you go to school and play your stupid ukulele, and don’t even try to do anything bigger. You could be stepping on everyone under you,” his former friend is going red in the face. “You could be leading, you could be ruling, but you just jerk off in your room and play pretend at being human. But someone might as well profit, here. Why not me?”

“I thought.. I thought we were friends,” is all the demon can say, lamely, and Kevin’s smile is the meanest thing he’s ever seen on a breather. “Once you’re fully listening to me, we can be friends again. Betelgeuse Shoggoth, get out of my house.”

He feels that same invisible pull, and he thinks maybe if he was stronger he could resist it, but a demon’s true name is like a lead on a dog, meant to control them, and unfortunately, Kevin has a tight hand on his leash. He makes it to the front door, and stumbles out, covering his face until he can calm himself enough to reapply his glamour.

Shit, he thinks, straightening up, and staring up at Kevin’s bedroom window. He is so fucked. ``````````````````````````````````````````````` Posted this chapter and another over at Ao3. You can read it right here

[magical-grrrl-mavis]

I have only a vague memory of starting this and no idea where I was going with it but here’s a shitty thing I wrote that is interesting.

________________________________________________________________

Luz was on the bathroom floor again.

She’d managed to last 3 days since the last time this happened, but apparently all good things must come to an end.

Her breathing was shaky and frantic, and her heart beat erratically despite the fact that she hadn’t moved from this spot for at least ten minutes. She’d torn her shirt off the minute she got in here to stop the feeling of the collar strangling her, stealing her breath. The cool tile on her back was a welcome reprieve as she continued to overheat.

Her mind raced, she could hardly focus on one thought for long and when she did manage it was the worst possible one to focus on. She wanted to scream, to cry out, to sob, she needed to. Holding that noise in was physically painful. Like all the energy that would be released by her screams was caged in her chest and battering against her ribs in its attempts to break free.

She knew what a panic attack was, of course. She also knew that she was not handling them well at all, and they wouldn’t stop coming until she did something about it. Until she asked for help. 

She should be going to her mother, trying to talk out how she felt or just seeking some kind of comfort, but how the hell can she explain why she’s like this now? Why just sitting through her favorite Star Wars movie is so utterly devastating, why seeing Luke’s first encounter with the Emperor triggers a veritable meltdown as her mind is filled with images from the past.

Gleaming azure eyes.

A golden mask.

Twisted, beaten bodies littering the floor.

Flames burning in every direction.

Everyone around her, burning, crying, dying.

She can’t talk to her mother about this, or anyone from this world, and it’s not as if she has an open correspondence with the people who were there with her. 

So she buries it. Let’s the pain and trauma tick away like a time bomb until it finally blows and she’s left broken and lost on the bathroom floor. Screaming silently until she’s too exhausted to feel the pain anymore.

There are three soft knocks at the door, then her mothers concerned voice carried into the small bathroom. “Luz? Is everything ok?” Luz has no idea how long she’d been in there, but apparently, too long.

“Yes.” She manages to say

________________________________________________________________

I think it was supposed to be like once she’s back in the human realm after a rebellion and fighting the emperor? I wrote it after I had a panic attack. 

[neverendingparable]

Returning Home

mentions of self harm, suicide, mental illness, drugs, medication, scars

Someone was knocking at the door, loud and urgent, interrupting his reading.

Ezra picked up the bookmark and slid it in between the pages, then checked his phone in case he had overlooked a message before he got up to answer.

Probably someone from the downstairs apartments was asking for help again. He wasn't quite sure when he became  the man to go to whenever the trash collectors oversaw their cans or when scammy ads were on their way to frightening people into buying insurance with shady companies, but it seemed like every time something odd happened around here, at least one person would turn to him for help.

He unlocked the door and opened it, ready to assure a worried elder about doubting the legitimacy of the latest marketing scam. Instead of his downstairs neighbors, he found Stanley, sweater and hair disheveled and eyes bloodshot.

Ah.

Ezra didn't expect him to come knocking so soon and an unexpected flutter of panic unfolded in his chest. It was only two days ago when they had the fight, or rather it was Ezra chastising him, telling him that he had to choose between living and dying once and for all.

'I'm not going to be with someone who is constantly on the edge, Spencer,' he had said, trying his hardest not to yell. 'You need to figure out what you want. I can't stop you from hurting but I can be there with you every step of the way if you want to recover. I want to be there for you. But I can't watch you sabotage yourself, much less stand by idly while you dig your own grave.'

He had poured in years of frustration with his ex boyfriend, all those times he was Stanley's rock, the reason why he was still alive, the one to treat his injuries. But it had never gotten better and Ezra decided that perhaps if he gave him an ultimatum, Stanley would finally realize he was being serious. He wasn't going to stand around and watch the most important person of his life kill himself slowly.

That was the last time he had talked with him. He wanted to give him space to think about his words, to let Stanley feel the absence so he knew the gravity of his choices. Ezra had felt a tiny bit guilty about it all, but he knew it was important. Nothing else had worked before.

He had expected a week or so of silence until Spencer eventually crawled back and reluctantly agreed to try out something. He hadn't prepared to be confronted so quickly.

Despite the nervousness creeping up his throat, Ezra relaxed into a friendlier stance and attempted to smile.

"You look awful," He said lightly. "Did you stay up all night?"

Stanley stared at him. There was something wild in his eyes. Fear? Desperation?

"....did you have a nightmare, Stanley?" Something felt off. Even if he did simply pull an all nighter or - possibly - hadn't slept since their argument two nights ago, it didn't make sense for him to look this worn down. Stanley was the type of guy that could take three all nighters in a row without flinching even at age twenty five, while Ezra who was only slightly older felt groggy if he didn't go to bed before midnight.

Perhaps Ezra had managed to get through to him after all and Stanley felt so guilty he spent the last two days beating himself up over it before working up the nerve to come here. Somehow, that didn't make him feel any better.

"Wha...what date is it?" Stanley finally croaked out in a hoarse whisper.

Ezra blinked. "Sorry?"

"The date."

"It's Tuesday." Ezra stepped forward to coax him in, but stopped when Stanley made a noise of frustration.

"Year??" He demanded.

Maybe he was drunk. Or high. Or both. Ezra was certain you weren't supposed to mix drugs and alcohol but if something was forbidden and potentially dangerous it would make sense for Spencer of all people to try it.

"Why don't you come in and I'll get you a glass of water," He attempted again, keeping his voice gentle. "You're confused—"

"For fuck's sake! Just tell me the damn date-" Stanley's voice cracked and became strangled. He looked like he was about to cry.

Ezra had no clue what was going on. It scared him though, even after all these years of witnessing breakdowns and fits of rage, he had never seen his friend like this. It was like he changed into a different person overnight. The Spencer two days ago barely seemed remorseful after their relationship abruptly ended.

"It's October the 15th, 2013," Ezra said carefully.

Spencer's face fell instantly. It was the oddest expression he had ever seen on someone, full of sadness and understanding, hope and rage and a tinge of happiness. Like all of his worst fears were just confirmed and amidst it all, so was his greatest wish. He swayed for a second, lost in a million mile stare and then steadied himself enough to step into Ezra's apartment.

He stood there, looking around while Ezra closed the door behind him. His eyes rested on every piece of furniture as if making sure they were all still there where he remembered them to be.

Then he turned towards the couch and for a split moment, Ezra could've sworn he saw a pale thin scar stretch across the back of Spencer's neck, like someone had attempted a decapitation. He shuddered and looked again and found it gone.

"So-....uh..." Spencer took a seat on the couch awkwardly. He searched his thoughts for a second then attempted to appear a bit more relaxed, like he was stepping back into his role as the nonchalant jokester.

"How are you, um, Ezra?"

Ezra stared at him in disbelief.

"I'm sorry, you come stumbling in here like a zombie on drugs and now you want to make small talk? What happened to you?"

Spencer shrugged. Normally it would make his blood boil but Ezra just felt helpless. This didn't seem an attempt to dismiss his concerns. Spencer was guarded, sitting like a caged animal ready to jump and run at the first sign of danger.

"I'm not on any drugs."

"Alcohol?"

"No."

"Did you take any meds?" He had to ask just in case Spencer was cleverly avoiding confessing to be drugged up with medication instead of drugs he bought off a friend.

"No." Spencer paused. "I'm...I'm just a bit confused, that's all. Had a rough-...rough time."

Ezra sat across from him, hesitated, and took his hands into his own. He could feel them shaking slightly and when he looked up, he could tell Stanley was trying hard not to cry.

"Stanley...please. Just be honest. What happened to you?"

"It's- nothing." You wouldn't believe me hung heavy in the air between them.

"Was it the argument? Was I too harsh?" Ezra didn't want to hear the confirmation that he might've been the cause for this. He hadn't thought he pushed him too hard with his words. Perhaps it had been a mistake. Stanley had abandonment issues and maybe the break up left him more shaken up than Ezra had realized-

"No." The tremble in Stanley's voice disappeared. "No, it wasn't you, Ezra, don't think that. If anything, it was my fault. I was a shit boyfriend and an even shittier friend."

"Stanley-"

"No, let me talk." Stanley pulled his hands away. "You were right, you've always been. I was unfair to you, I was selfish and immature and only thought about my wants. I took advantage of your second chances again and again and you were right to tell me to stop my bullshit."

"Well..."

"I'm sorry, too." His voice grew softer. "I never thought I'd get this chance to say this but I'm sorry. Ezra, I love you. As a friend, as a soulmate, as whatever you want to call it. I know we're not boyfriends right now but please believe me I'm so sorry and I don't want to leave you."

"What...do you mean you never thought you'd get the chance to say it?" All he got as an answer was two armfuls of Stanley, holding onto him for dear life.

He returned the hug carefully, lost in the absurdity of the situation. It felt like a dream he wasn't aware he stumbled into. It felt like he had just narrowly avoided a horrible fate and the weight of the 'almost' was looming over them like storm clouds.

Stanley was still talking about how sorry he was and how he was going to get better, therapy, life coaches, mental hospitals, whatever you want I'll do it just don't kick me out tonight and he sounded so desperate Ezra almost believed that whatever happened to him was a type of horror he’ll never understand.

Logic told him it was just a very extreme case of depression. Perhaps he had been drinking. Perhaps he beaten himself up so much over these past two days that he had somehow driven himself to hysterics and if he really did mean it then he would have to prove himself.

But that night Stanley clung to him until he passed out in exhaustion and even in his sleep his grip was tight enough to suffocate.

He did stay true to his words. He threw out everything remotely harmful, even donated his rather impressive knife collection to a local thrift shop. He went to every doctor Ezra recommended to him and soon he was on meds again, getting weekly counsel sessions.

The doctors told him that Stanley was suffering from a type of extreme PTSD, one that couldn't be easily explained from his childhood. His parents had been neglectful, not violent and once they both graduated, their lives have been fairly normal.

Spencer was eventually put on anxiety medications. He was unbearably clingy, to the point where Ezra found him staring at the door when he came back from getting groceries or the mail.

He had nightmares too, ones he only vaguely described as feeling 'trapped' in. Nightmares that involve him losing Ezra in endless hallways, meeting monsters who wanted to tear him apart, watching himself die in various ways.

The source of these newfound problems remained unknown as Stanley stayed tight lipped, changing the subject whenever Ezra pried too hard. But despite the new wave of horror now haunting him, he didn't refuse treatment even once. And it was through their combined efforts he eventually got better. He stopped being scared of entering new buildings, stopped waking up in the middle of the night screaming, stopped going into a nervous fit whenever Ezra was out of his sight.

He found new hobbies, building little machines in his spare time and on the weekends they would spend hours hiking nearby trails.

They started dating again. Stanley's previous shyness about intimacy had all but disappeared and been replaced by neediness. He bared himself shamelessly, asking to be loved for every flaw and Ezra obliged.

Whatever happened was beyond his comprehension. He didn't know how someone could change so drastically and for the longest time he blamed himself for not seeing the signs earlier. That perhaps Stanley had always been like that and he had never noticed.

But there were little things that confused him. Every so often, when they were untangling in bed or just in the shower, he caught glimpses of unexplainable scars on Spencer's body. Scars that were deep and ugly, scars that told of violent deaths. Decapitation, disemboweling, torture, burn marks. A second look and they were gone.

Sometimes he felt an odd sort of calling when he was walking down the hallways of the hospital or his work office. A longing to open a door and step inside, see what could be on the other side. The one time he did, he found a broom closet where he was sure that hadn't been before and the energy radiating from it was so hungry he had closed it quickly and left.

Several times he caught glimpses of someone watching them while they were out in public. An impossibly tall figure in a suit, a smiling woman in an exceptionally colorful dress who looked a little too much like Stanley used to look when he still had long hair, a man in an overcoat and a top hat. None of them ever approached and Ezra was strangely relieved.

As the treatments carried on, Stanley found his lively spark again. He insisted on being called Bradley, ('Brat-ley' he explained proudly) and tried his hardest to live up to the name. 

It didn't bother Ezra, however.  They were happy. Alive, well and happy. 

And that's all that mattered.

[husbandograveyard]

Hi! For the cliche box opening- Marco and fem reader, 21?

Hiya! Some of that gorgeous phoenix man coming right up! I don’t know why he’s getting more and more popular but daaanggg I am all here for it, he really is one of those slightly perfect men, pineapple andall! I hope you enjoy this dear!! 

This is a setup - Marco x Reader 

Cliche with Bae prompt #21: Blind date set up by friends  Character: Marco - Word Count: 1.9k 

You never really thought about dates and such. As a pirate, you had better things to do than occupy your mind with romance. You had the occasional crush, the occasional fling when docked on an island. Usually never something serious. You have had some crushes on your crewmates too, but never really acted on it. It’d feel a little weird. 

Right now the object of your crushing was your ship’s doctor and commander of the first division, Marco the Phoenix. His soft and gentle demeanor, combined with his strength, determination, and leadership skills made it hard to not fall for him. And well, you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t extremely good looking. His reading glasses being the cherry on top, a sight you were seeing more and more often lately. 

Whitebeard had appointed you Marco’s assistant, mostly since you were one of the more gentle, calculated and precise people on board. Ideal to assist the doctor with his herbs and medicines, since you made no mistakes. And well, spending long days and sleepless nights with him, preparing herbs, labeling medicine and just generally assisting him in the infirmary, sometimes even taking over command over the nurses whenever commander duties called him, surely had made you appreciate him even more. 

A crush was just that, and you didn’t want it all interrupting your duties. But it was nice to have someone to daydream about whenever there was a silent moment and your actual dreams were bringing you much joy, glad to wake up with the prospect of spending time with the one person that kept visiting in your dreams. But you kept to dreaming and dreaming alone, it was not worth trying, besides, there was not even the slightest indication of any mutual pining. No way you were going to ruin your favorite job on the ship so far just for the sake of a possible relationship. 

After a party on the Moby dick, you had been slightly intoxicated, you had confided in Ace about having a crush when he asked you something about the guy you left behind some islands ago. You had forgotten about him and had explained to Ace how you preferred short flings for the duration of the stay on an island, and in the meantime, you’d enjoy your crushes on the ship.

It had been a terrible idea to tell him because this man was so damn curious about your crush, he kept bothering you, even if the alcohol had no more influence after the party ended, just kept on bothering you for days on end. You kept explaining you preferred to not get involved with someone on the crew and put a real emphasis on the fact that nothing should be one-sided. After a while, they stopped bugging you. At least that is what it seemed like. 

When you were about to dock at the new island, you were hanging out with Izo on deck. He too was now aware of the little situation going on with Marco, but compared to Thatch and Ace, went a lot more subtle about the whole ordeal. “So, y/n, are you going to find some other fling here too, or is your mind a little too pre-occupied?” “I don’t know”, you answered truthfully, “I guess I wouldn’t mind something to distract my brain for a little bit. I’ve never had a crush last this long.” Izo hummed. “Well, I do know some people on this island? How about I find you a nice man, and arrange a date? Kind of a blind date thing? I promise I won’t set you up with some kind of weirdo. Just… to distract the brain, and that way you won’t have to go through a batch of well willing guys that are not worth your time.” 

You thought it over for a bit, the offer didn’t seem that bad. Worst case scenario you just had a bad date, but the chances of having a bad date were just as big if you went out and looked for someone by yourself. Besides, you did trust Izo and his judgment, so the date couldn’t possibly that bad. “You know what? Sure. One blind date. The second night we’re at the island so you have time to convince someone to do a blind date thing.” You laughed and Izo nodded in response. “Consider it done~ I’ll figure out the details with him and let you know as soon as I’ve met up and set it up.” “Perfect.” 

As promised, the next day Izo gave you the time and place of a small restaurant pretty close to the harbor. “No need to dress up too fancy, I told him it was very casual. That way you can see for yourself whether you want to hook up or just have a fun evening.” You thanked him for his consideration. You were feeling a little bad, something you had never done when going onto a date of any kind. It was not even like you never had done a blind date before. You looked over at the closed door of Marco’s cabin and felt a little pang in your heart. You shook your head, there was no way that was going to work out, so might as well make the best of it tonight. 

You spent most of the day distracting yourself with your chores, even taking on extra ones to make time pass faster. And it worked very well, you nearly forgot about the excitement of the evening when Ace asked you why you were still on the ship. You had completely lost track of time. Good thing the date didn’t require dressing up nicely, you just changed into the first clean set of clothes you could find inside your cabin, and then sprinted your way to the restaurant. You remembered Izo’s words, the first row of tables to the right in the corner, he had booked it for the date so you definitely wouldn’t miss it and sit by the wrong person. 

You walked the final feet to the restaurant, not wanting to arrive all out of breath. You were only a couple of minutes too late. It was embarrassing, but not too bad. Maybe your date was a little late too and you could both laugh about it. You walked in, turned to the right, looked at the corner… and frowned. The table was taken already, a familiar face looking surprised before smiling and waving you over. You reluctantly walked up there, and with every step you took, the realization sank in: Izo had been part of a set-up. You’d strangle him the moment you got back. 

“Hey Marco” You smiled as you sat down, the doctor smiling back at you. “Did you know..?” “No, y/n”, he laughed, “I’m afraid we both are victims of a set-up”. You nodded. “Well, we might as well make the best out of it?” “That seems like a plan, nice food in great company sounds like an ideal date to me- yoi” he winked at you as he said that, and you couldn’t stop your cheeks from heating up a little. 

You ordered drinks and food, and once you got over the initial awkwardness and the fact that you both had drastically been set up by your friends and crewmembers, the conversation started flowing. Starting off with things about the ship and such, since that’s what you always talked about when you were working together, but slowly evolving to more personal conversations, such as your pasts, your dreams, your goals, your hopes, and aspirations. It all seemed to flow so easily and you were just having so much fun. 

Marco was not only an amazing date to have deep conversations with, he was also a true gentleman and incredibly funny. You could almost feel your crush grow into something more right at that very dinner table. Or at least, the denial that it was nothing more than a crush was about to get thrown overboard. You were head over heels and that was not part of the battle plan. You were surprised to get kicked out of the restaurant hours later because neither of you had noticed just how long you had been talking, keeping up the waiters and such. 

The cold evening air hit your skin and you shivered. Before you could even move your hands up to rub your arms, you felt the fabric of his jacket being draped over your shoulders. You wanted to swoon right then and there. Why was he so damn perfect. “Aren’t you gonna get cold?” “I am a literal firebird, y/n, I don’t get cold that easily-yoi” You chuckled and wrapped the jacket around you a little more tightly, instantly warming up a little as you started to walk back to the Moby Dick. 

“What are we going to tell them when we get back?” “I don’t know… I actually had a pleasant night, I wouldn’t mind going for another date” You stopped dead in your tracks. “Are you serious.” “Yes, I mean it. I have to admit, I’ve had a little thing for you ever since we started working together, but I didn’t want you to feel forced, or uncomfortable. I am your commander after all-yoi” “You’re kidding me” “No, I am not. I’m pretty sure the guys set me up on this blind date cause they knew and they were kind of annoying me to say something about it.”

You had to stop yourself from facepalming. “They set us both up worse than you think.” Marco tilted his head to the side and gave you a questioning look. “I have been crushing on you for weeks on end. I didn’t want to say something because I didn’t want to make things weird, and they offered me a date to give my mind some peace and quiet and possibly distract from you. They all knew about it.” Marco laughed out loud. “Then maybe it’s the two of us that are the fools.” “Maybe….can’t believe those three actually did a serious thing” you laughed a little, the noise dying out as you noticed Marco stepping closer to you. 

“How about we let them think they failed for a bit? Just until they’ve learned their lesson?” You nodded. “Well, does that mean I can’t hang out with you?” “Of course not. We work together, you have no choice,” he smiled, “and behind closed doors, we can do whatever. Only for a few days, just to make them feel a little bad.” He smiled as he took a final step in your direction, taking one of your hands and pulling you even closer. You could only breathlessly nod at his plan, too busy staring in his eyes to give a decent answer. “Then, before we get back… With your permission?” He leaned in close, still careful to not make you feel too uncomfortable, patient yet eager. You felt your heart swell at how considerate he was, and closed the gap, kissing him eagerly. 

The cold was temporarily forgotten, as well as the fact that you were in the middle of the street in the middle of the night, probably looking at least a little bit suspicious. You gave him a quick peck on the lips to seal the previous kiss right before you pulled away, giving him back his jacket. “An unsuccessful date doesn’t end in wearing each other’s clothes” you smiled. Marco put it back on, smiling back at you before you both started walking again towards to the ship. “Let’s not pretend for too long though, I don’t think I’ll always be able to wait for us to be alone after that kiss.”

[thecassadilla]

Positive

Word Count: 1,659/AO3

Pairing: New Dream/Rapunzel x Eugene

Summary: Rapunzel and Eugene get the best news of their lives.

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! This is my contribution for Day 6 of New Dream Appreciation Week - We’re Having a Baby! This is another Modern!AU because that’s my forte, apparently. Just like yesterday, this isn’t really my area of expertise - I have never been pregnant, and only one of my friends has had a baby recently. As a general disclaimer, this fic does focus on Rapunzel and Eugene unexpectedly finding out that they’re having a baby. There’s nothing graphic, or descriptive, or anything, but the implications are obvious. It’s rated T just to be safe.

She didn’t think anything of it, at first. She was just a little more tired than usual. A little was a bit of an understatement, though - she could hardly keep her eyes open every time she wasn’t moving. But they were in the process of moving from their apartment to their new house, and so she chalked it up to stress. 

She became slightly concerned when she felt lightheaded one evening after arriving home from work. She made it to the couch, and within a few seconds the feeling subsided. Once it had passed, she tried to put it behind her and went on with the rest of her day, but the thought still lingered in the back of her head. She avoided telling Eugene about it, because she knew he would freak out and she didn’t think it was something to be really concerned about. The Internet wasn’t much of a help, unsurprisingly; seeing results like ‘congestive heart failure’ quickly made her click away and not look back. 

A couple of days passed before she started to feel persistently nauseous - it wasn’t severe, but rather a constant, low level sense of discomfort. At first she blamed it on the smell of paint fumes in their new house. But the sensation never went away, and it got to the point that the sheer thought of eating was enough to make her feel sick. 

And then the realization hit her like a ton of bricks. They were sitting on the couch one night after dinner, and she was leaned up against him, his arms wrapped around her shoulders. She kept dozing off and waking up, and just as she was about to close her eyes again, her attention was brought to a commercial on the television; an advertisement for a pregnancy test. She felt herself tense up as she watched the couple on the screen smile in delight at their positive result and she felt a chill go up her spine.

“Eugene?” She asked, looking up at his face.

“Hmm?” He hummed in response.

“Did you see that?”

He looked down at her. “What?” 

“That commercial.”

“The insurance one with the talking lizard?”

“No, the one with the pregnancy test.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Uh, yeah?” 

“Have you ever thought about that?” She wondered aloud. “Thought about us having a baby?”

He shifted beneath her, and she sat up so she could get a better look at him. “Of course - I mean, if that’s what you want. I know we’ve talked about it in the past, and you’ve always said you wanted kids, but sometimes people change their minds.”

She nodded, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “I haven’t changed my mind; I still want that.”

“Great, me too,” he smiled slightly, leaning back against the couch and turning his attention back to the television for a second. When he realized that she was still staring at him, he looked back at her. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

She wasn’t able to form the words, and a strangled type of noise escaped from her throat.

“Because we could start trying, if you want,” he assured her, taking her hands in his own. “I know this probably isn’t the easiest subject to talk about.”

She shook her head, squeezing her eyes closed. 

“Or...we can wait?” He guessed, cocking a brow. “You’re giving me mixed signals here, Rapunzel.”

She took a deep breath before finally blurting out the thought that had been swirling in her head for the last two minutes. “I don’t think we have to try.”

He gave her an odd look before huffing out a laugh. “I mean, technically -”

“No,” she cut him off. “I think I’m pregnant.”

“Oh. Oh,” he said, his eyes widening at her revelation.

“I’ve just been so tired lately, like, I can’t even eat a meal anymore without my eyes closing, and I’ve just felt sick to my stomach, but I thought it was because we were painting the house and there was that time I almost passed out -”

“You almost passed out?”

“But Google said it was congestive heart failure and -”

“Congestive heart failure?!” He exclaimed, his face blanching. He looked like he was about to pass out, himself.

“I’m not dying!” She clarified, moving her hands to cup his jaw. “At least I don’t think I am. I didn’t even think that I could be pregnant until I saw that commercial, but it makes so much sense.”

He nodded slowly, unsure of what to think or say. “Right,” he finally answered. “But you don’t know for sure. We don’t know for sure.”

“No,” she sighed, dropping her hands.

“Well, what are we waiting for? We could go to the store and get a test, and we’d have an answer.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Let’s do that.”

So they took a trip to the 24-hour drug store and spent a bit of time in the “family planning” aisle, trying to decide which test to buy. They ended up choosing three different brands, and were both relieved when they walked up to the teenage cashier, who seemed to have more of an interest in her phone than what they were purchasing. The entire drive home was nerve wracking, and cloaked in an awkward silence. 

Her heart was pounding in her chest by the time they got back into the house, and she thoroughly read through the instructions on one of the tests. 

“It says it’s best to use first morning urine,” she explained, biting her lip.

“Just go for it,” he insisted. “Save the other two for tomorrow morning.”

She nodded, closing the bathroom door behind her. A few moments later, the door reopened and they found themselves sitting on the cool tile floor in front of the sink; the test out of their view and a timer set for three minutes. They sat quietly for a few moments.

“What are you thinking?” He asked, finally breaking the silence.

“I’m nervous,” she spoke up, her hand subconsciously pressed against her lower abdomen. “But I don’t know why. We’ve been married for over a year and we have a house, and everything is...stable. I guess I’m nervous because we haven’t really talked about it and it’s so unexpected.”

“Hey, I hope you're not worrying about me, sunshine,” he said, a flash of concern in his eyes. “I know this wasn’t planned, but I’ve always wanted to be a dad. I’ll be thrilled if the test comes back positive. And even if it doesn’t, and we’re on the same page, we can always try for real.”

“I don’t know what I would do without you,” she said, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I'll be so happy if it's positive.”

After what felt like the longest three minutes of their lives, the timer finally beeped.

“Do you want to check? Or do you want me to?” 

“We can both look,” she said, pushing herself up off the floor. He followed suit and watched from her over her shoulder, resting a hand flat on her back. Taking a deep breath, she picked the test up from where it rested on the sink and flipped it over in her hands. She glanced down at it and got her answer; two pink lines. Positive. Pregnant.

“Oh my gosh,” she said, dropping it and bringing her hands to cover her mouth. Tears pooled in her eyes and she couldn’t contain her smile.

“We’re having a baby!” Eugene exclaimed excitedly, wrapping his arms around her. 

“I can’t believe this,” she cried, the tears cascading down her cheeks. “I’m just so happy.”

“We’re going to be parents,” he gushed. “This time next year there will be a tiny human here. Our tiny human.”

“Our baby,” she beamed. 

“We’ll have to dedicate a room for the nursery. And buy baby stuff. We’ll have to come up with a name. There’s so much to do!”

“Not tonight, though, I’m too tired,” she giggled, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. “But I’m so excited. More than excited. I don’t even know how to put what I’m feeling into words.”

“Just a few hours ago, I didn’t even know this was possible. That this was going to happen,” he said. “I really can’t believe it. In a couple of months, there’ll be a third person living here.”

“February,” she confirmed. “I did the math in the car - the baby will be born in February.”

“Oh god, we don’t have that much time then,” he remarked, sounding slightly panicked.

She laughed. “Eugene, it’s June. We literally have eight months.”

“I better start practicing my dad jokes,” he added. 

She shook her head at him, still grinning from ear to ear. “I’ll have to call the doctor tomorrow and find out what we do next.”

“This is literally the best day of my life,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong, our wedding day is right up there next to it, but nothing can beat this.”

“This is the best day ever,” she corrected. “I can’t believe I was so nervous. And I can’t believe this is real.”

“I was not expecting the day to end like this at all. I think I’m in shock.”

She yawned, then, and reached up to rub her eyes. “I really hate to cut this short but I am absolutely exhausted and I’m about to fall asleep standing here.”

“I don’t know how you can sleep; I’m definitely not going to be able to sleep tonight,” he chuckled.

“You don’t have a baby draining all of your energy,” she pointed out with a laugh, her hand fluttering to her lower abdomen. 

He placed his hand over hers and smiled. “Let’s get you to bed, then.”

“I love you so much,” she smiled back, suddenly throwing her arms around his neck.

"I love you, too," he promised, lifting her off the ground and squeezing her. “I can’t believe we’re going to be parents.”

[luci-cunt]

Ok so when I said I was writing fanfic for AW I planned on doing a lighthearted cops/robbers kinda thing and then last night i woke up at 4am and wrote this all down and the only way I can describe it is as “Markus Zusak meets William Goldman” and I’m very sorry.

Anyways, here’s 

“This is a love story”

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

There was blood on the linoleum tiles, it shone in the garishly bright lights of the store. Everything looked slick, and hazy, and Izetta laid out on her back with her head resting next to the gasping man. 

They both stared up at the ceiling--the man because he couldn’t move other than to wheeze a few more desperate breaths--and Izetta because she was waiting for someone. 

“Bi--bitch,” the man dying managed to choke out. 

It just made Izetta smile. “Yeah.”

This--as unbelievable as it may seem--is a love story. 

Not between these two, however, but something a bit more… unexplainable. The concept of love predates the concept of hate, or murder--if you believe in a dusty book with just about one thousand too many words trying to explain the utterly unattainable seeming concept of: do not be a dick. Of course, maybe you follow a different religion--they all have a book though--the big ones at least. 

However, I was there--at the beginning of all time, and I can tell you this one particular thing: no one started it. 

The universe was created on a wild coincidence, and the planet you’re currently sitting on was forged in the opulent expanses of pure, unadulterated, chance. 

One thing that is for certain is that--no, I will not be explaining who I am because I don’t matter--remember, this is a love story and I am but a concept given a typewriter and a fuck ton of a magical substance called caffiene. Remarkably, I find it tolerable, despite the fact that I watched you humans learn to chew the beans by watching goats get high. 

I digress, back to Izetta and her stained linoleum floor. 

The man laying beside her, dying painfully slowly had a name. It doesn’t matter though, all that does matter is that he was taking far too long to reach the end of life. 

Finally, finally, the man wheezed his last breath and his eyes went dark and his body limp and lifeless. Izetta grinned, still staring up at the ceiling, her ears perked for any sign of her expected visitor. 

As usual, there was no sound. At least, not until she wanted to be heard of course. 

“Sloppy,” Ivory said, making Izetta’s grin widen painfully. 

“Hello darling,” she said, pushing herself up to get a good look at the woman looking distastefully down at the man on the floor. 

Something to note: after death you have the opportunity to become a guardian of sorts. You can watch over someone of your choosing and assist them through their life, keeping them safe. Most people stick to their families, others will latch on to total strangers just for the excitement, and others still--well, they’re Ivory. 

Ivory has a brother, who has a husband. She has two nephews and three godchildren. She is also too good at her job. Despite the--for lack of a better term--OP seeming possibility of guardians, they are still human, they still make mistakes and death does not make you omniscient. Ivory however, is clever. Her brother survived four natural disasters, an attempted hostage situation, and a very messy run-in with a garbage disposal. 

This couldn’t be tolerated, people do have to die at some point--thus is the circle of life. And so she was forcibly reassigned. 

This is when she met Izetta--another woman horrifically good at her job. She worked as an assassin, hunting and killing people and she noticed when Ivory appeared. Most don’t, guardians are silent things, they watch over you and keep you safe in subtle ways. Izetta however, had a bit of a… shall we say… remarkably idiotic streak. 

When she noticed Ivory she began actively trying to kill herself to test just how far her newfound ‘luck’ would get her. 

And that was when Izetta met Ivory. 

On your deathbed is the only time you can see a guardian, they’re supposed to explain the concept to you, offer you the choice, and then move on to the next family member or just off into the ether. 

Izetta had to drop four toasters into her bathtub and blow her apartment up with C4 to see Ivory. 

And then it became a game. 

Izetta began to literally flirt with death, an affair that wasn’t unreciprocated. But then Ivory ran into the same problem she’d run into before--she was too good at her job. 

They’re last moment together was a quiet one, both sprawled out in a bed, skin slick with sweat and breathing heavy as they stared at the ceiling with their heads together. 

“How did you die?” she asked bluntly. Honestly she had expected something flippant as an answer. Ivory was a strong woman, she took every hit with her teeth gritted and her fists clenched just waiting for the next opening. 

So when Ivory went quiet, Izetta was surprised enough that he turned her head to see Ivory’s dark expression. She was quick to push herself up and bring a hand to Ivory’s cheek, all mirth draining from their conversation. Ivory’s eyes looked dull, empty. 

“You don’t have to answer that I didn’t mean to--” 

“My mother,” Ivory cut her off. Izetta blinked, she didn’t get the chance to speak though, because Ivory was speaking again. “I died saving my brother from my mother.” 

There was a long, endless stretch of silence. “Fuck,” Izetta whispered. 

And then in the next moment Ivory was gone, vanished into thin air. It was always impossible to tell when Ivory’s will to keep her physical form would reach an end, usually it was sudden, but in this case it made Izetta ache. 

She laid awake, alone in bed for a long time, before she finally made up her mind. She caught a bus, taking it to the last place Ivory had mentioned living--Wyoming--and she found herself a phone book and she searched the entire state until she ended up on Monte Cyron’s doorstep. 

She knew she’d found the right person as soon as she saw him, they could have been twins. He furrowed his brow when he saw her, there was a toddler on his hip and a man a little farther in was cooking something in the kitchen and chatting with another child. 

Izetta felt out of place, uncomfortable, and she drew a blank on what to say. 

“Can I help you?” the man asked. 

“I need you to come with me,” Izetta said. A shitty, half baked and terrible plan forming in her head. 

The man breathed something akin to a laugh. “Uh, no?” he said. 

“Ok,” Izetta said, and then she turned and left. She waited until the man closed the door and then snuck around the side of the house. She could hear them talking inside, quiet murmurs of confusion and concern. Izetta groaned quietly and pulled on her hair, gritting her teeth and cursing herself. 

Then she looked upwards, even though she had no way of knowing where Ivory was watching her from (behind her and a little to the left, her expression dangerously dark but with a glimmer of curiosity) and she whispered. “Sorry, I really hope this works out but just--trust me? Please don’t kill me I’m trying to be nice,” Izetta said.

(it didn’t help Ivory’s expression).

Izetta waited until night had fallen thick and hot over the flat plains of Wyoming, she listened intently for any sign of movement after she heard the two men put their children to sleep, and then, when everything was quiet, she broke into their house. 

Despite her rash personality, Izetta was still a highly experienced assassin who was excellent at her job, breaking in without making a single noise was as easy as slipping into sleep and she carefully crept upstairs. She slipped into their closet, neither man stirred from their sleep, and she waited patiently until one of the children in the other room started crying. 

The two men groaned awake, and then Monte shoved Sinclair off the bed, which was met with a curse and a light-hearted promise of vengeance, but he left the room. Monte himself rolled over, trying to slip back into sleep, and Izetta took her opportunity. She left the closet, quiet as a ghost, and locked the bedroom door. Then, without any hesitation, she jumped on Monte and strangled him half to death. 

To his credit, he fought well, and he almost got away, but Izetta was desperate and she refused to let go. 

Then, right at the last second, she dropped him. He lay still for a brief second, and then gasped, quickly sucking in air and shoving Izetta off of him. She went, scrambling to the far side of the room and then grinned when she noticed the new figure in the room. 

“Monte,” Ivory said, and Monte froze in his vicious attempt to follow after Izetta with the lamp on his bedside. He turned slowly--so very slowly, and then dropped the lamp when he laid eyes on Ivory. 

“Ivory?” he whispered in disbelief. 

They crashed into one another in the space between blinks and held each other so tightly it looked painful. Ivory’s eyes were squeezed shut and she held the back of Monte’s neck as he pressed his forehead into her shoulder and held her arms in a vice grip. It looked so practiced, so easy, like it was second nature to fall into the embrace. 

Then Ivory opened her eyes and glared at Izetta. “I’m going to fucking kill you,” she growled, sounding like she was barely hanging on to her composure. 

Monte pushed away quickly. “What?” he yelped, and Ivory shook her head. 

“Not you--her,” she explained, and Monte jumped at the reminder of Izetta, who waved and tried her best to look polite. 

“Wait--yeah what the fuck?? What the hell is going on?” Monte demanded. 

“Sorry about that whole--choking you to death thing, I was trying to be nice,” Izetta said. 

“You had no idea it would work, you’re a fucking idiot,” Ivory snapped. 

Izetta just shrugged and smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, but it did work.” 

“Monte--” Ivory said, grabbing her brother’s shoulders and stealing his attention again. “I don’t have much time, I just--” she stopped, like she didn’t know what to say. “I’m so proud of you, and so happy for you.” 

“I don’t--” 

“It’s harder to stay here for someone who isn’t my charge, I’m already slipping but just know--you mean everything to me, and if I could do it all over again--I wouldn’t change a single thing.” 

Ivory didn’t let Monte speak again, she just pulled him into another tight embrace and whispered, “The wedding was beautiful, I’m sorry I could be there for you,” and then she was gone. 

“What--what the fuck,” Monte whispered. 

The doorknob turned, and then Sinclair’s confused voice called out. “Monte?” 

“Shit--ok, I gotta go,” Izetta said, jumping for the window. Monte caught her arm at the last second and she let him, for just a moment.

“Wait--what--?? How--?” he tried, and just shrugged. 

“Sorry I’ve got no idea, bye now,” and then she was gone. 

Again despite her brash personality, Izetta was actually surprisingly observant. She noticed that Ivory wasn’t around her anymore--it was hard to miss. It felt like an aching hole in her chest that she couldn’t quite put her finger on, and she was sure it was going to drive her mad. 

She knew Ivory had been forced to leave her brother because she was too good at what she did, and so she just assumed that was what had happened, and she made it her life’s mission to make Ivory horrible at her job. 

And so we meet back at the beginning of our story, with a man bleeding out and Izetta grinning up at the love of her life. 

How she managed to track down an invisible, unknowable entity--I personally have no idea. How she managed to do it for the rest of her life? 

Well, I told you, 

This is a love story.

[shera-dnd]

Freezerburn Week Day 7: Free Day

I suck at “free days” so much, but I finally got this thing out there and I want to thank @taigarose for helping me come up with the idea for this fic and for some other fics too ~

I also wanna thank the people behind @freezerburn-week for these amazing prompts that have helped me get back into the flow of writing. You guys helped me a lot more than you know

~~~

Training as a huntress had been a dream come true for Yang, she got visit new places, meet new people, fight cool monsters, hell she even got a new girlfriend. It had been everything she wanted and more, but she still missed home some times and still missed her dad, so every once in a while she would return to Patch, get her father up to date on her life, have a sparring match or two, introduce him to Weiss.

It was weird thinking her dad knew about their relationship, but Ruby of all people didn’t. They had tried to bring it up before, but stuff kept getting in the way or they didn’t want to make things awkward or a thousand other reasons that somehow conspired to keep their whole relationship a secret and the longer it took the weirder it got to try to bring it up.

Not even half as weird as Ruby bringing her partner home to introduce her to Tai, not knowing he was already familiar with the woman. Now the three of them had to find out how to break it to Ruby without making this any more absurd than it already was.

“Why the fuck didn’t you call ahead?” Yang whisper yelled. They managed to steal away some time alone under the excuse of showing Weiss where the bathroom was.

“I didn’t know she was bringing me here until I was half way through the trail here. She just said it was going to be a big surprise” She answered, trying to contain her exasperation “And you know how shit the reception is around your house”

“Of course she would do something like that” Yang loved her sister very much, but this was just getting ridiculous “Okay, what do we do now?”

“I say you two just tell her already” Tai said, knocking on the door from the other side.

“You say that like we haven’t tried!” Weiss complained, before catching herself “Oh! Sorry, Mr. Xiao Long”

“It’s okay, Weiss” He assured her “I know you two are a little nervous, but I’m sure Ruby will accept your love and support your relationship”

“It’s not like that” Yang explained “It’s just that it’s been nearly a year and I don’t want her to feel like we’ve been keeping this a secret from her”

“And you’re doing that by keeping this a secret from her?”

“He does have a point” Weiss agreed

“Yeah, you are right” Yang agreed too.

She held Weiss’s hand and they both walked back to living room with determination. Ruby was on the floor playing with Zwei, only noticing them when her dad made a loud coughing noise.

“I believe your sister has something she wishes to tell you” He said, giving them a supportive thumbs up.

“Ruby, me and Weiss…” Yang started, her confidence dying down a little “we’re dating….we’ve been dating for months actually”

“Oh finally!” Ruby exclaimed.

“What?” Weiss and Yang asked in unison.

“You weren’t exactly being subtle”

“Then why didn’t you say anything, you dolt?”

“I was waiting until you were ready to tell me about it. I didn’t want to rush things” Ruby explained, sounding a little apologetic.

Weiss looked like she was ready to strangle her partner, but Yang couldn’t help but laugh.

“So” Taiyang started, interrupting the absurdity of this moment “How about we discuss how silly this all is over some coffee?” His sincere smile defusing the situation.

“I want mine-” Weiss started.

“I still remember how my girls like their coffee, Weiss, don’t worry” He assured her

“Dad!” Yang complained

“It’s too late, Yang” Ruby said, dashing to hug her partner “Weiss is already part of the family now”

[sylaesschasewind]

Heartbreak/Headache

The firelight glinted wetly off the edge of her saber.

Her eyes darted up the length of it, back up at Mattanis. The prick. She couldn’t swallow. Her chest was heaving, but nothing came of it but sharp bursts of pain. He’d missed her spine but got her right beneath the jaw. Blood drooled down her chest.

It wasn’t something she’d walk away from. The knowledge was firm and clear. 

“I give you to him. A worthy sacrifice. May he see your treachery!”

His voice bawled in perfectly clear common. 

A very large part of her wanted to spout something witty and cutting off, but again. That damn blade rendered that idea null.

She was dying.

The hot wetness sludged its way down her neck. Now why did you turn your back on him? You knew. This wasn’t a surprise. Do you want to die? A taste of rest...?

He chanted on, trying to invoke the master. Something she’d learned. You didn’t just invoke him; he knew what was going on and deigned to visit as he wished. Chanting became incoherent. It was hazy at best. Hard to focus her eyes, let alone unravel the blurry words of fervor falling over her. Sight faded to shadows. Shadows to shapes, shapes faded to...

Shit, this was really happening. A cold sweat clutched her.

---

She rolled over and--thump--vomited heavily. There wasn’t anything to bring up but acrid bile. A hand on her shoulder. A bin shoved roughly into her hands.

It took her a good while to recover enough to blink back tears from her stinging eyes.

Confusion made her head swim.

Destarion gave her a thin smile, settling above her on the bed. She was on the floor.

“So, you died.” 

“Is this real?” Her voice was hoarse. Like she’d been screaming for hours. Gravel sounded better. And boy, it hurt. Everything lit up at once.

“Unfortunately for you, I think.”

Sylaess let her head back down to the floorboards. It cost too much to look around, so she screwed her eyes shut. She smelled blood. Gore. Sea water. 

“You were brought back by an Anchorite, no less. Fascinating.” The insulting drawl. Soft over hard, ignorant tone. Not intentionally mean, just bored. Like this had happened several times. His deep purple skin was coarse and scaled, those fel-flame eyes burning behind the simple linen wrap he used. Dark violet-black hair rested atop his head in a messy bun framed by those long demonic horns. Destarion was no picture of comfort, surely, but he was better than anything she’d seen in... how long had it been? It didn’t matter, really.

Her stomach churned again, and she heaved weakly into the bucket he’d thrust into her hands. Let her forehead rest on the edge of it. Every single nerve was misfiring it seemed. It felt like withdrawal, and a serious case of whooped-ass. 

“--Where’s.. Hnn.” Oh, gods. Why couldn’t she just stay dead? What a horrifying journey. Disjointed memories. “Sword.”

Their relationship wasn’t really one of caring. It was built on a temporary mutual interest, and in so, she was honestly shocked that he was here at all. 

“I’m not really in the know of how to help you, for clarity’s sake.”

Hands hauled her up by the shoulders. Nothing particularly gentle. Enough that she was sitting upright against the bed, head lolling bonelessly. The worn leather scabbards were pressed into her hands. She clutched them like a lifeline. Heard the demon hunter give a small sigh. “There’s no way I made it through.” Again, the thin gravel-voice.

“Is that more of a wish you hadn’t? I’m more inclined to believe it, if so.” She heard him shift on the bed. Felt him watching her like a strange insect on the floor. Alien. It was a long moment of silence before he spoke again. She could hear the faint sounds of the city outside the walls. “You need to get help. Acherian help. I doubt there’s anything that can be done for you here.”

“...Gods no.” 

The flinch was reflexive and it sent her swords sliding down her lap to thump dully onto the floor. The room spun violently. She hissed a breath between her teeth, hating how even without tone in her voice, her words were almost a whine. Get your shit together, Syl. You’re back, but you’re losing what was done. You’re dying. More like returning to undeath. Between the hunger and the soul deep pain, she wasn’t sure what was real. But she was going to cling to this reality while she could. 

“Another, here.” the voice seemed to come from somewhere over head. “Hmph. The Light will shine in any shadow.” 

She didn’t recognize the language. Not at first. Another puzzle? N’zoth picked the best tormentors, after all. But it wasn’t demon-speech. No. It reminded her of... 

Argonas? No. Avehi? Yes? No! Draenic!

The thought bubbled along haphazardly. Sudden Light burned echoes into her eyes. She’d resigned herself to this fate. Being here in Ny'alotha. She wondered if this was another painful game that they were going to play.

Right until the floor came up to cuff her across the nose. Felt it shatter under her weight. A groan escaped as she pushed herself up onto her forearms. She’d been devout once, and the phrases came to mind, but it felt so wrong. So, so wrong. 

“Hey, elf.” The common was thickly accented. “Time to get moving. You’re one of those undead, right?” Male. Not the first speaker. 

“Just get her on her feet.” Impatient. “No one has time to wait in this foul place. It begins to collapse. We can offer a cleanse as we exit.”

Collapse? Sylaess blinked stupidly. Collapse? She stared straight into the pristine white face with golden eyes. The mane of white hair floating about her horns made her think of some strange halo, but the expression was cold and unforgiving. Syl didn’t blame her.

There was intense pressure on her jaw. She tossed her head but couldn’t get rid of it.

“There you are. Welcome back.”

Destarion’s faux nobility drawl. She blinked a few times, trying to make heads or tails of it. Reality wasn’t what it should be anymore. It was terrifying. He had her by the jaw, holding her head still. Firm, but not cruel. 

“You keep seizing. You. Need. To. Go. Back.”

He let her go, standing up from his crouch. Her chest was tight with fear at the thought of Acherus, but she couldn’t recall why. She watched him pour a short glass of... liquor. Collected herself enough to roll and press off of the floor. Rising with care. Everything was wavering like a candle flame. Found herself gripping her scabbards like they were a safety blanket.

The demon hunter simply frowned at her from across the room. He was here, but she didn’t know why. There was no love between them, and she certainly had lost her usefulness. It wasn’t caring, which was fine. That would have made it awkward. More awkward.

Damn it all, he was right. 

Cold sweat slicked her forehead again. Oh no.

Caught sight of his eye-roll behind his blindfold. Fucking spare me! Drummed up the power to call it. To rip open a death gate. The pressure felt like her veins were going to explode with the force of dragging up enough magic.

It sputtered before her and went out like a limp dick. Frustration reared up in her in a strangled, close-mouthed noise. Her legs jellied and she sat on the bed hard. 

“Shit.” She breathed the word out and let herself fall back on the mattress, swords clattering on her chest. No armor. Huh. Somehow that felt more naked than being without clothes. “I don’t have a plan for this.”

“Evidently.”

“I need... “ Say it. Say it you fucking tool. You could’ve let Argonas give you your stupid absolution, but no. “I need another Knight. To get to Acherus.” Or to finish the fucking slow ass process of undeath.

Not far away from where she was, leaning against the railing as he looked out onto the ocean was Nedemus. Inner conflict wore on him as he watched, one of his long nails grinding gently against the wood as he sighed. 

It honestly took more effort than she was willing to account for to get herself out onto the boardwalk. One step at a time. She stumbled unsteadily out of the rented room and onto the boardwalk. The sea breeze smacked into her face wetly, less of a smell, more of an assault. 

What a fucking mess.

Eyes blurry, she made it to the railing. Hooray. Holding herself upright and looking better than she felt at least. Destarion sighed and watched for a minute before slipping away in the crowd. Shook his head. 

The nearness of other people was abrasive. She gripped the railing like the world had turned upside down.

“--Ned?” It startled her that she knew his name.

He blinked upon hearing his name, the worgen turning his head towards the source. Before him stood… “... Sylaess? It’s been…” He blinked once more, giving her another lookover. She looked… alive? At least as alive as they were in their states. “Are you alright?”

Thoughts tumbled over each other in a fight for freedom from her mouth. She ended up saying nothing for a long moment, trying to compute what weird luck this was. Shook her head a bit.

“No.”

A breath in slowly. Held gently. “Are you?”

He narrowed his eyes a bit in worry, pushing himself off the railing as he stepped towards her. “I’m fine, don’t worry about that… What’s wrong?” He asked her, slow in his approach. 

“I...” How to explain? Made the worst decision in her miserable unlife, twice? Good try. “Need to get to a rune forge. Acherus.” Or somewhere. She steadied herself, holding her ground. It was hard enough to have her gaze hold his what with the world twisting, but it was getting easier. Small battles.

He watched her for a moment, before nodding softly, turning his head away and holding up his hand to the open area beside them, the dark energy forming a gate before him. His hand lowered, gaze turning once more towards her as he offered a hand. “What happened to you?”

“...I’m a magnificent idiot.” She smiled bleakly. With her gravelly, ruined voice it didn’t really stick. Shook her head and nearly tumbled for it. Oh dear. “Need to fix my blades.” She stared at his hand a moment before gripping it. Couldn’t help but feel the dread of returning to Acherus after all this bloody time, but it had to be something. Anything to anchor herself from this freefall. 

“Thank you.” Softly spoken. 

He moved in close, helping to catch her as he noticed her struggling, keeping an arm around her as he escorted her to the gate, moving slow and careful. “Aren’t we all.” He said softly, with a chuckle, before shaking his head. “It’s… No problem. I’ll help you get to the forges… Soon as I Remember where they are.”

He stepped through the gate, traveling the pair through and into the dark halls of Acherus. He glanced around, his ear flicking a bit as he tried to remember...

It didn’t go well. One minute she was grateful for his support, the next, she was a boneless sack of skin being held up through a portal. Good times, good times. 

Wading back into consciousness was very much like being a tiny little rowboat out on the great ocean. Half full of water. She flinched hard, stumbling and throwing an arm up over her face, but her leg went sliding out from under her. What a mess.

It didn’t take long for Ned to grunt a bit, scooping his arms underneath her legs and hoisting her in his arms, bridal style. He walked through the halls, ignoring the glances from the other death knights as he made his way towards the forges. “You still have your blades?”

“Yeah.” She spoke mutedly, trying to figure herself out again. Sure enough, they were in their scabbards, strapped to her back. There wasn’t room for dignity anymore. Not in her condition. Ny’alotha still clung to her mind like an infestation of worms. 

Blades. Right. One was salvageable. Enough to get her by. So she hoped. It had cracked at some point, near the hilt but not all the way through. Trusting the master rune forger could be of use. She shuddered, remembering the second one.

He gave a soft nod as they arrived to the forge, Ned bringing her in close as he helped her to stand - keeping his arm around her for support.

Okay, stand. Honestly. Stand. Drag up what’s left of yourself and get this done. Sylaess ended up leaning on him a fair bit. As if she hadn’t just been carried in like some waif. Ignoring that fact, she gripped his arm a moment. Took a small breath and steadied up. “I can’t thank you for this.”

[luccislegs]

Hiiii! Since I believe Ace deserves better let's assume that he left a son who look like him before he died. Can I request a scenario of hc of Luffy and Sabo meeting this little kid ? ♥️｡◕‿◕｡

Neither Luffy nor Sabo knew what to do with the information that, somehow, someway, Ace had fathered a son and kept it from not only them, but the World Government. It was only after Marco let them in on the secret, as he had delivered him, that they knew. He had given them the island name and avivre card, and sent them on their way.

Now they stood, hands trembling on the other side of a quaint looking house on a tiny island in the middle of the New World. 

Sabo was the one to knock, Luffy just standing there looking on the verge of collapse. They had no idea if Marco had warned her of their impending arrival, and it only made them all the more nervous.

A very pretty young woman opened the door, all smiles. Behind her legs stood a child, hiding their face behind her skirt. Luffy’s eyes locked onto the boy, but he was too well hidden to make out anything about his face.

The smile faded from her face as she recognized the two men, turning sad before she invited them in.

“I was wondering when you were going to show up. Marco told me he was going to tell you,” she said as she poured them drinks. She had sent her– and Ace’s– son into his bedroom to play. “His name is _____,” she said when she realized their attention was on one thing only.

“We…we don’t want to disrupt your life. We know that the World Government isn’t aware of him, of _____, and we don’t want them to ever be, either,” Sabo said carefully. He threw a glance at Luffy, but his brother was determinedly focused on the faint sounds come from the other room.

There was a faint trace of amused irritation at his little brother’s one track mind before he turned back to _____.

“Can we meet him?” he asked, startling both _____ and Sabo. He was now staring at her with a frown, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Yes. Ace always wanted to introduce you. At least after…” she paused and then sighed, unsure of how to continue.

Sabo recognized instantly what she was trying to say. “After he realized it was really happening? Ace never did want kids. He never wanted his child to grow up without a father, or hunted because of who his father and grandfather was. He hated Roger, I’m sure you know that.”

_____ nodded in agreement. “Yes. He was upset when I first told him, but he never left. He was determined to give _____ a father. Then he found out Whitebeard was sick, and then Blackbeard murdered Thatch. At least… at least he knew him for a little while. He talks about daddy all the time.”

She gave the two of them a watery smile, then called for _____.

When the boy walked into the room, it felt to Sabo like all the air had been sucked from the room. Luffy made a strangled noise, like he had been doused in cold water. 

_____ was the spitting image of Ace. Deep, almost black, brown eyes, freckled across the cute, slightly upturned button nose.

But it was the smile that did them in. That smile was wide and adorable and perfectly Ace.

“Hi! I’m _____,” he said, coming up to stand next to his mom. She pulled him up and into her lap, and he snuggled into her neck.

“Yes, and do you know who we are?” Sabo asked, his heart in his throat. He knew Ace well enough to know that he would have told _____ something, but he also knew that Ace would have wanted to surprise everyone with the information.

“Yeah! Daddy told me about you,” he said, and pulled two folded and dog eared papers out of his pocket. Sabo and Luffy recognized them instantly as their wanted posters. “Uncle Sabo and Uncle Luffy.”

They could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed. When they had arrived at the small cottage, neither Luffy nor Sabo knew what to expect. They both hoped for similar things: that Ace’s wife and son were happy, that they would be welcomed and greeted with more than indifference, that they would be recognized.

No where had they expected that, and in an instant they were both in tears. Goddamn him. Goddamn him for dying, for leaving, for not telling them he had a family, for everything.

_____ was looking between the two sobbing men and his mother with confusion. “Why are they crying, mom?”

She gazed lovingly back down at him with a watery smile, on the verge of tears herself. It had been a long time since _____ sounded so happy. He had accepted Ace’s death as well as she could have expected, falling into a mild depression for a few months afterwards. He never really came out of it, she knew, constantly missing his father. Drawings of him littered his room, memories as well as imagined interactions. It pained her to go in there and see them, but knew she could never ask him to stop.

“They loved your dad just as much as we did is all, honey,” she answered, glancing towards the two. They had finally regained their composure and were watching _____ again.

“Oh! Do you wanna see my drawings of him?” he asked, perking up. His mom didn’t like to talk about his dad too much. Well, she did, but _____ knew it hurt her to, so he tried to avoid asking her about him.

“Oh, honey, I don’t think–” she started to say, but a gentle hand on her wrist stopped her. She jumped, meeting Sabo’s serious gaze. Luffy looked like he was going to burst into tears again, his lower lip trembling, but he also wore the same look.

“If it’s okay, we would like to see them,” Sabo said, smiling at _____ now, who perked up and hopped off his mom’s lap.

“Cool! I’ve got so many…” he said, his voice fading down the hall as he dragged Sabo by the hand. 

As Luffy moved past, a soft hand wrapped around his wrist. He looked down to meet _____’s eyes, tears spilling over and down her cheeks, but she was smiling. 

“It’s been a long time since he’s smiled like that. Thank you,” she said, squeezing gently. Even from the kitchen, she could hear _____’s happy chattering, likely explaining every detail of his pictures to Sabo. It was something he used to do with Ace as well. 

He would “ooh” and “ah” at just the right times, nodding seriously as _____ told him about his reasoning behind everything, sometimes right up until he fell asleep. It was hard for her sometimes, and she tried to as well, but she knew it wasn’t the same. Ace was a special person and no one would replace him in _____’s heart.

But Sabo and Luffy had revived some of that spark in him, and she was sure that, given time, it would return in full. Maybe he would be able to heal with the two of them to fill some of the gap Ace had left behind.

Luffy nodded, wrapping his long, calloused fingers around her hand, and smiled. “We’re here for you, _____. And _____ too! We won’t let anything happen to either of you, I promise!”

Then he turned and left to find Sabo and his nephew, leaving ______ alone in the kitchen. 

Even through her tears and pain, she smiled.