#he's not above saying “i wanna fuck him” and it's true but he's been ruminating pretty deeply in his Yearning lol

[kowaindar0u]

(last one promise) 🍸 Muramasa, how much do you love/want your dear saniwa? Tell us your truest feelings/desires for him. (@zantedeschia-praesul)

[ Send 🍸+ a question and my muse will answer while drunk. ]

Sengo Muramasa is absolutely hammered, sloshed, wasted. Turnt. Shitfaced, even. He clutches his current bottle to his chest, spilling it a little as he lays down on the floor with a loud, longing whine. Despite the obvious slurring, it seems like maybe he has thought these words many times before.

"Soooo much... Ohh... I just want to hug him...hold him... kiss him... taste him and please him in any way I can... I wanna protect him... I want him to protect me... I want... I've heard people say that the ones they love know them better'an they know themselves? Yeah? Huhu... I want him to know me better than I ever could, inside and out..."

He sits up, with the same suddenness as being startled awake.

"I should go tell him this!"

And then he lies back on the floor. He's out like a light.

[themissinggenius]

Part 2/2

Another conversation was coming, but it was avoided for the time being. Clarice showered in the guest bathroom; earlier, she had tried peering around the house—still mad but a bit embarrassed by the outburst. The door had been put back into place since she showered, and the water had been cleaned off of the floor. Hannibal was nowhere to be found. I really did it this time, she thought. Her body relaxed, and her face softened. She didn’t think it was appropriate to laugh, but the thought still surfaced, prompting a sad smile. I pushed around the violent centerpiece of the FBI’s Ten Most Wanted list. And he just cried. Shithouse mouse. The smirk dissipated as she ruminated further... She had hit him. Being a domestic abuser wasn’t just rude; it was boringly common. 

She moved the thoughts about violence to the side and shifted her attention to the cause of the scuffle. I don’t know what he expected. Hannibal knows the depth of my old relationship with Jack, as much as he hated him. He told me to say goodbye to my father, so why not Jack?

Your daddy and Jackie Boy aren’t the same, she reminded herself. At this moment, she was both grateful and resentful that her internal voice of reason was that of her husband. At least it was helping her see his view. Okay, so the relationship isn’t necessarily comparable. But why would he think I wouldn’t come home? Did he really read my intentions so incorrectly?

Clarice laid awake in the guest bedroom for hours.

~~

Hannibal Lecter relies on his intuition; it may just be his most famous attribute. On rare occasion, though, his cunning will fail him. On the day that Jack Crawford died, it most certainly did.

However, he doesn’t know that yet. Instead, he is reclined in repose at the seat of his harpsichord which he does not play. As he is off in one of the ill-visited quarters of the home, Clarice would be unable to hear the notes carrying from her position in the guest room; even so, he does not play. Hannibal gleaned a look of disgust and frustration from her earlier, and thus, he was certain his Starling would take flight by the morning for reasons known but difficult to accept. There is no reason for him to play.

Poised on the bench, he disappeared to his memory palace without struggle. The difficulty came when he walked down the halls, closing each door that had belonged to her. Hannibal contemplated as he walked: There is a certain symmetry to this—an appreciable one. Clarice’s hotheadedness had been a defining feature of hers, whereas he relied on coolness. He chastised himself for his own emotional outburst; it was unlike him to breakdown, and though he had allowed himself to become vulnerable to his wife, with her likely departure, he had to withdraw from all this fragility. He had to shut down. He had to be the ice to meet her violent fire. 

Thus, he closed her doors, sealing the emotional ties within each.

~~

Hannibal emerged at the sound of her voice. He had not heard her approaching in nor had he smelled her. 

A few paces away from the harpsichord, Clarice stood. Hannibal had been contemplating whether to address her as Clarice (Perhaps too informal at this point...), Agent Starling (But even when she goes back, she won’t be an agent...), or Miss Starling (Ummmm, I don’t like this one very much...) when she interrupted.

“Hannibal,” she started. 

“Ah.” He paused but spoke again before she could continue. “I see you’ve finally decided to join me. Had enough tossing and turning up there, or did you come down to use me as your personal punching bag again?”

“No, no. I just think-”

He cut her off again. “You know what I think, Ex-Special Agent Starling?” Oooh. That works, he thought. “Well, actually I wonder. I wonder if that was how Daddy took care o’ Mommy when she wouldn’t shut ‘er yap.” His imitation of her accent—which she had long abandoned—made her flinch. “If Ma didn’t have dinner on the table at five-o-clock, yes siree, she’d be in some kinda trouble. And boy, does Clarice still wanna be like her Daddy! No matter what,” he emphasized with a drawl, “she’s gonna stand by him. It sure do seem that way tuh me!” Hannibal smirked, and his face betrayed no warmth.

The room had felt colder to Clarice when she had walked in. She had expected him to be upset, but she hadn’t expected this. The woman paused and considered the implications: her musings were correct. He really did misread her, and now he was trying to drive her away. Well fuck that. 

In their years of marriage, the couple had picked up on a few of each other’s traits. For one, Clarice was not going to allow a bit of intimidation break her. He came close to doing so in Baltimore, but he would not again. She steeled herself, adopting a bit of his icy demeanor.

“No, Hannibal. My father did not hit my mother. I think I would’ve told you by now, don’t you?”

He didn’t answer right away; rather, he just pursed his lips and smiled. 

Then, he began: “As you know, I don’t try to predict you because it often proves fruitless.” He looked off before setting his gaze squarely on her. “However, considering these... outbursts of yours and the contempt plain on your face, I have bought you a ticket back to Arlington in time for dear Mr. Crawford’s funeral. For my safety, I will also be leaving, but not to Virginia. I know how much you must miss Jackie; please, give him my regards when you go. Maybe if you scream and pound on his grave hard enough, someone will hear and they’ll finally find you... Three years after you were reported as a missing person.” Lecter’s eyebrows shot up, and he shrugged. “Though I doubt you’ll be reinstated, as you haven’t kept your resume up to date. It will be no problem for you, though, Clarice.” He gave her a kind, patronizing look. “You’re a very smart girl. When you rediscover that the FBI has no use for your intelligence, try showing off your trophies from the firing range. Maybe even tell them about your skills in hand-to-hand combat... I could write you a glowing reference!”

Hannibal was perfectly still in his seat with his wife just beyond him. He waited patiently for her to break. He wanted no end to be left untied when she left. Your turn.

“I see you still try and lick tears after you’ve tired of tasting your own.” Clarice took a slow step toward him. She needed to crack his facade quickly. “Fortunately or unfortunately, I have no intention of moving back to the States. I find that I’m quite happy right here.”

Only she could have noticed the slight twitch of the doctor’s right eye upon this admission. And she did.

Starling inched closer. “Now, about this ‘contempt plain on my face’...” She mirrored his voice and flat expression; her imitation was even better than his had been. “Did ya happen to consider that it’s because you just tried to tear me apart—unsuccessfully, I might add? Let me tell you what I know, Doctor.” She hammed up the formality in her tone. “I know you’re not comfortable feeling worried about another person. I know that you felt vulnerable when I was gone, and I know you didn’t like that.” 

She paused, remaining collected. She raised her voice a tad for this last bit. “Lastly, I know that you ASSUMED. And if there is one—just one!—good thing that goddamned Jack Crawford taught me over the years,” she laughed, “it’s that, when you assume, you make an ASS out of U and ME. Trust me, baby, you did just that. And despite what your intuition told you, I’m not going anywhere.”

She did it. The true stoic’s face had broken, and Hannibal the Cannibal sat, dumbfounded. He opened his mouth and then closed it. She continued.

“I’m sorry that you misread my motivations. I spent yesterday reflecting on how I had gotten to this point, and I had come home feeling glad. I was planning on going upstairs to find you, drawing a bath for the both of us, and then dancing later on in the evening. Your assumption got us a bit sidetracked, though.” Looking down at her watch, it was 2am. Holy crap. She focused back on him and noted that he was still unmoving but appeared less rigid than before. The room felt like it had finally warmed up.

Clarice took a last step towards her husband. Now above him, looking down, she said, “I am sincerely sorry for hitting you, Hannibal.”

Finally, he stirred. “Clarice, I have not once so much as laid a finger on you in anger...”

“I know. Ironic, right?”

“I don’t think so.”

His wife smirked at that, and he returned the favor. “No, I guess you wouldn’t. Anyway, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. You know what else won’t happen again?” She held his chin and spoke softly. “You doubting us. I’m with you for the long haul. Where the hell did you even think I was going?”

“Ummmm. To be candid, I’m unsure of what I thought your plan was. I assumeddddd,” he looked up at her teasingly, “that you were leaving because of a change in heart.”

“My, Dr. Lecter, you didn’t have every one of my steps planned out before I could even think of them? What have I done to you?”

“I can now definitively say that you bring out the worst in me.”

Clarice laughed and sat down next to him. “Crying? And worrying?” She was feeling more relaxed, placing her hand on his leg as she started laughing harder. “Why am I not surprised that you consider that to be Hannibal Lecter at his worst?”

Her husband just smiled back at her. She saw his cheeks blush almost imperceptibly, which then prompted a further fit. It wasn’t long before they were both laughing.

“You had better... go back... into that memory palace of yours... and open up my doors ASAP,” Clarice ordered while catching her breath.

“And how did you—?”

“You were sitting on that bench for quite a while before I called out to ya. Try not to forget about me so soon, huh?”

“I wouldn’t even think of it.” Never again, he added silently. “But I must ask... Would I be incorrect in assuming you still want to dance?”

Clarice smiled widely. Hannibal shifted in his seat and began to play.

[artificialqueens]

Blue Neighborhood Series: THE QUIET + DKLA (Jackie-centric) - Mac

AN: Thanks a million for the feedback on this series! It truly means the world to me. Thank you so much, guys. I hope you enjoy this part as much as the previous ones. As always, thanks to the incredible Meggie for putting up with me and beta-ing this work, she is a superstar, send her some love!

Summary: Jackie is doing her best to keep her head above water. But with a stressful home life and a stressful school life, the walls feel like they are closing in.

Jackie was a social floater. She could twist her skin into whatever people wanted her to be. Most of the time they just wanted her to be quiet, sit back and listen to their problems. Which Jackie was fine with. It meant no one was asking about hers.

Jackie’s family life was… complicated to say the least.

Her father and mother both knew she was gay.

But they pretended like they didn’t.

Where they would pester her older brother about girls every chance they got, they sat stone-faced when she mentioned she was taking Gigi to Homecoming. Well, not completely stone-faced. Her father coughed.

Jackie had given up the chance of exploring her sexuality in high school. Content to let bygones be bygones until college. That’s when she would really get to shine. Away from judgment from her peers and parents and teachers. She would be free then.

For now though, she was standing outside Gigi’s door. The younger girl appeared a moment later, long blonde hair up in a high ponytail clad in flared jeans with a crop top that definitely wasn’t up to dress code. Jackie rolled her eyes internally, knowing that there was virtually no way Gigi would get called out on it. She supposed there were just perks to being the skinny white femme of everyone’s dreams.

The two walked in relative silence over to Brita’s house.

Then they walked in relative screaming to school. Brita was going on and on and on about how horrified she was to hear the news and how terrible it was that Jan thought she couldn’t share the sordid details of her personal life with her friends.

Gigi didn’t comment much, other than a small nod of agreement here and there. Jackie just steamed quietly to herself.

She had her own thoughts about the whole endeavor. Which she happily kept to herself, thank you very much. It wasn’t any of their business if Jan was gay. It wasn’t any of their business if she was getting it on with the captain of the varsity basketball team.

Yes, they had been friends since childhood and yes, Jan had been there when Jackie came out, and yes Jackie had told Jan every possible detail about her life because she trusted her. And no, that kind of trust wasn’t easy to come by.

So maybe Jackie was a little confused. A little hurt even.

That must be why she felt so weird.

“Have you seen her at all this week?” Jackie asked, knowing the answer hadn’t changed.

Gigi gave her a weak smile. “Not since Wednesday, no.”

“Is she okay?” Brita asked.

Jackie rolled her eyes. “Well, considering she had the flu last year and came to school anyway to protect her perfect attendance record, I think it’s safe to say no.”

Gigi spoke softly, calmly. “Jacks, I know you’re stressed with the whole Jan thing, but—”  

“I’m just tired.” Jackie cut her off. “It has nothing to do with her. I just didn’t sleep well last night.”

Brita and Gigi dropped the subject for now, but Jackie could see on their faces that they didn’t believe her.

Jackie bid her friends adieu at their lockers and headed up the stairs to her own. She tried to shake the feeling of unease that accompanied her, but it wouldn’t dissipate. It sat in her gut and ate at her through the morning. Her classes passed in a haze. At times it felt like she wasn’t even real.

The pit in her stomach only grew as the bell for lunch sounded.

She headed toward the art room, hoping to find some sort of mental reprieve from the strange feeling.

She had no such luck.

Nicky and Crystal were flirt-fighting again. Or at least that was the term Heidi had given it. Nicky would pick something, anything to complain about, and Crystal would evidently rise to the bait and the two would bicker and one of two things would happen. Either they would eventually fall into a fit of giggles, or one of them would say something a little too flirtatious and they both would look away and poorly hide goofy smiles.

It was so sweet it was sickening at times.

Heidi was torturing Aiden by recounting her date with Jacob the other night, going on about how it’s only been three months but she really thinks he’s the one. Normally, Jackie would sit back and laugh. Watch as Crystal and Nicky danced around each other. Watch as Aiden got closer and closer to strangling Heidi with every word.

But today, today she felt like she was drowning. Usually, the art room was too warm in a good way. Cozy even. The breeze from the propped door offering a bit of relief from the stale air. But today it just felt stifling.

Jackie sat and ate in silence, letting her thoughts ruminate over the events of the past few days. The infamous picture. Jan’s weird behavior. Jackie’s weird feelings about Jan’s weird behavior.

“Are you okay, Jackie?”

“Hmm?” Jackie looked up at the sound of her name.

Nicky smiled softly, “I asked if you were okay. You seem quieter than usually.”

“Is it Jan?” Crystal chimed in.

Jackie scoffed, “Why does everyone keep asking me that? Why would Jan have anything to do with—”

“Because you’re in love with her,” Crystal answered simply.

Jackie’s stomach lurched.

Oh fuck.

“I’m not—”

Heidi cut her off, shouting from the other side of the room. “No, girl, don’t lie. You’ve been head over heels for Jan since we could talk.”

Jackie’s brain was still trying to compute. The pit in her stomach felt like it had swallowed her whole and her heart was beating a mile a minute. Suddenly she couldn’t breathe.“But I’m not… not in love with her.”

Her shock must have been apparent, because her friends’ expressions shifted suddenly from condescending to shocked.

“I thought you knew,” Crystal spoke quietly.

“How do you not know you’re in love with someone?” Aiden whispered.

“You’d be surprised,” Heidi murmured back in response.

Crystal elbowed Heidi in the ribs.

“Hey! I didn’t ask-”

“Shut up!” Crystal whisper-shouted. “Clearly she’s going through something and you wanna talk about—”

Jackie didn’t hear the rest of Crystal’s statement; she was too busy focusing on her feet hitting the ground as she ran out of the art room, down the hallway, and through the double doors at the end to gulp the outside air.

It didn’t help.

She still felt sick.

Love.

What a tricky little word.

Farsi has over 80 different ways to say love.

Eighty different ways in a language she had been speaking since birth, and yet Jackie couldn’t wrap her head around a single one that encompassed how she felt about Jan.

Love seemed too pedestrian. Too cliché. Too plain.

Maybe that’s why it never occurred to Jackie that such a simple sounding word could be related to Jan.

Jan wasn’t cliché or plain, the opposite actually.

But Jackie… Jackie was simple. She was cliché. So cliché in fact that she had apparently fallen for her straight best friend like the stupid lesbian stereotype she so tried to keep herself from becoming.

So she guessed it made sense.

Jackie shook her head to clear it. And when that didn’t work, she found her eyes searching her surroundings for anything else to focus on. Her gaze landed on two familiar faces in the distance.

Dahlia and Bryce sat close together under the bleachers. Jackie went to turn away, to shield her eyes from whatever shenanigans they were getting up to, when she noticed the open books in their laps.

Dahlia was pointing to a paragraph and talking with her hands. Bryce nodded along. He said something Jackie couldn’t make out and Dahlia nodded excitedly. She continued pointing out different sections of the textbook and Bryce went on to ask questions.

It looked like she was… tutoring him.

Huh.

Jackie couldn’t help her morbid curiosity, so she approached the two as quietly as she could. She ducked under the bleachers and inched ever closer to the pair until she could make out what they were saying.

“So, what you’re saying is I’m stupid and all I had to do was flip the fraction?” Bryce asked.

“Exactly,” Dahlia said.

Bryce chuckled and tried to sound offended, “Hey, you weren’t supposed to agree with that first part!”

Dahlia shook her head and barely hid a smile. “It ain’t about agreeing, it’s just facts. You pretty stupid. You lucky I’m not.”

“I really am,” Bryce said genuinely. Dahlia looked up to meet his eyes and Jackie could see something brimming under the surface. “I feel like I don’t thank you enough for this. But I really appreciate it.”

Dahlia broke eye contact with him and waved her hand as if to break the tension, “Yeah, yeah, I heard it before, you wanna impress your girl.”

So that’s what this was about. He wanted to be good enough for Jan.

And dammit if that thought didn’t hit Jackie in the chest. She knew the feeling.

Bryce sighed and ran his hand through his unkempt hair. “She’s really fucking pissed at me right now.”

“I would be too.” Dahlia nodded. “If you were my mans and I saw you comin’ back from somewhere with the school slut, I wouldn’t be too happy either.”

Bryce winced at her words. “Don’t say that.”

Dahlia gave a bitter laugh. “It’s true. They see you coming from the bleachers with the whole football team and assume you sleeping with ‘em.”

Jackie tried to inch closer but completely missed the giant tree branch right in front of her. She caught her foot on it, which caused her to trip and fall, letting out a curse as she hit the rough ground.

Dahlia and Bryce looked over at her with wide eyes and had the decency to even look a bit guilty. Dahlia was the first to come back to herself, snatching up her backpack and practically sprinting back into the school building.

Bryce lingered and offered a hand to help Jackie up, which she took gratefully.

The two stared at each other a moment. It seemed like Bryce wanted to say something, but he ultimately shook his head and settled for, “Hey, Jackie.”

“Hey, Bryce,” Jackie said.

Bryce coughed to try and break the sudden awkward tension and motioned to the still open text book behind him. “I’m not cheating on her.”

“I know,” Jackie said simply.

She never thought he would. Bryce wasn’t cheating. Didn’t have the brain power to cope with the guilt that came with cheating.

“Dahlia and I were—”

Jackie cut him off, “Studying, I know. I saw.”

“Can you tell her? Jan?” he asked, a hint of desperation creeping into his words. “I’ve been trying to call her but she won’t answer.”

Jackie shook her head. “She’s not answering me either.”

Bryce looked shocked. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Jackie said simply, suddenly fighting back tears.

“But you guys are…” He trailed off.

Yeah. Jackie wanted to say. Yeah, they were. And they had been that way for so long that now, now that they weren’t, she didn’t know what to do or think or how to breathe.

Bryce just stood there. Looking at her.

Jackie just stood there. Looking back.

Until he rallied the courage to ask what she knew he had wanted to ask since they had locked eyes.

“You think it’s her? In the picture?” Bryce asked.

Jackie nearly screamed.

“No,” she answered truthfully.

She didn’t think it was Jan. Hadn’t even considered the possibility that it could be Jan until Wednesday. And even then, Jackie still couldn’t wrap her mind around it because Jan was straight. And Jan was Jan.

But even still, Jackie couldn’t stop her mind from running away with the alternative. The alternative being that it was Jan in the picture.

And that alternative made Jackie’s stomach twist up like a balloon animal.

“Me either,” Bryce spoke softly, pulling Jackie from her thoughts.

The two sat in relative silence for a few more moments before Jackie mentioned that they probably should be heading back.

Practice after school went about as well as expected, with Jackie, Brita, Gigi, and the rest of the seniors taking turns leading the team through exercises and routines. Jackie couldn’t help but pick up on the feeling of defeat. They had already been pushing their luck with one flyer down and no coach, but now that Jan wasn’t there it just felt hopeless.

Jackie asked her mother later that night if they were coming to regionals.

Her father coughed and her mother danced around the word ‘no’ for half an hour or so.

Jackie just rolled her eyes at her mother’s antics. Taarof, the Persian word and Iranian principle of not saying what you truly mean, but the group understanding what is actually being expressed. Her mother meant no, but she never said it outright.

By the time Jackie finished dinner and her homework, it was nearly midnight. She sighed at her clock and willed that it would turn back. Willed that it would turn so far back that it would undo whatever weird spell she seemed to be under.

She had no such luck as the clock ticked on and on, and Jackie’s mind only got more cluttered. After twenty minutes of staring at her ceiling and praying that her mind would empty, Jackie gave in. She grabbed her car keys from the kitchen counter and left her house without a second thought.

Jackie got in her car and just sat for a moment. She stared at the radio and the steering wheel and when she blinked, she was outside Jan’s house, not remembering having driven the short distance across the street.  

It was raining, Jackie noted after a minute, pretty hard actually, and if Jackie were in her right mind, she would worry about how her tires really needed replacing because she kept hydroplaning. But Jackie clearly wasn’t in her right mind because before she could think too hard, she was calling Jan.

The younger girl finally picked up after the third call.

“Come outside,” Jackie said firmly.

Jan sighed, and it spoke volumes. “Jacks-”

“Please.” Jackie startled herself with how broken her own voice sounded.

She heard Jan inhale slightly on the other end before she hung up.

Not a moment later, the blonde’s head appeared, and she ran from her front door to Jackie’s car, holding the back of her jacket up to shield herself from the rain. She threw open Jackie’s car door and settled down in the passenger seat. If it were any other day, Jackie would lament about her seats getting ruined, but with Jan sitting beside her, hair thrown up in a messy bun with no makeup and not a trace of a smile on her face, Jackie really couldn’t give a damn about her seats.

Jan sat in her passenger seat and just looked at her for a moment, taking her in almost.

“Hey,” Jan said finally.

Jackie’s heart hammered in her chest, as it normally did when Jan was around. Only now she recognized the pounding for what it truly was.

“Hey.”

I love you. Jackie thought.

Jan sighed and broke eye contact.“I’m sorry everything has been so crazy recently.” She looked back over to Jackie. “I’ve just not been feeling well, but I promise I’ll be back soon, and the team has my full attention and I—”

Jackie stopped her, “You don’t have to explain anything, okay?”

I love you. Jackie thought.

Jan nodded and opened her mouth to speak, but Jackie cut her off again.

“But don’t lie to me and act like everything’s fine.”.

Jan looked down at her feet on the floorboards, then to the window where the rain was making patterns on the glass.

Jackie didn’t know what else to say. So she just drove.

She drove and drove and drove and let her hands and feet do the thinking. Traffic was light, the rain was heavy, and the silence in the car was loud. They passed stores they used to spend all day window shopping at, houses of their classmates that they didn’t talk to now, the old library they never got any studying done at, the roller rink where Jan broke her arm, the neighborhood basketball courts they used to lay on until the sun disappeared and the ground got too cold.

They drove for so long that Jackie surprised even herself when she came to a stop.

She looked up and realized she was in their school parking lot. It was empty, save for the lone golf cart in the far parking space.

Jackie unbuckled her seatbelt, driven by some force that she couldn’t all together name. She opened her car door as the wind and rain beat against it.

“What are you—”

Jackie didn’t wait to hear the rest of Jan’s question, instead focusing on her steps, careful and measured as she got a good distance away from her car before letting her mind shut down and her body recoil as she let out a long and impossibly high scream.

The storm around her did a good job at mostly covering the intensity of her voice, but Jan still heard and came running at the sound.

“Jacks, are you okay?” Jan had to practically shout to be heard over the storm.

Jackie shook her head. “No,” she answered as honestly as she was able. “But that felt damn good.”

Jan looked at her concerned. “You can’t do that you’re gonna—”

Jackie cut her off with another ear-shattering scream.

Jan’s entire body winced at the sound, but Jackie could see something in her eyes simmering just under the surface. A fire. Envy almost.

“C’mon, give it a try,” Jackie yelled over the thunder crashing closer than before.

Jan shook her head. “I’m not gonna—”

Jackie screamed again. This time feeling her throat constrict and the sound fighting to get out. She sounded crazy. Broken and insane but Jackie swore she had never felt more alive than she did right now.

“Jackie!” Jan scolded.

Jackie just screamed again, louder, and couldn’t help the manic smile from spreading across her face. For the first time since they had known each other, Jackie felt her chest lighten in Jan’s presence. She felt a weight being lifted like she could finally breathe.

Jackie looked over to Jan who still looked hesitant, but after a firm nod from Jackie, Jan let out her own scream. It wasn’t nearly loud enough in Jackie’s opinion. And she said as such.

“Louder! You’re a singer you can do better!”

Jan shook her head and Jackie could barely make out a bitter laugh Jan gave at the notion. Jackie just shrugged and opened her mouth to yell again, when Jan stopped her with a hand. “Fine, I’ll do it. Just give me a second!”

Jackie mimed looking at a watch that didn’t exist and Jan bit her cheek to hide a smile.

Jan let out another scream, louder this time, a bit more unhinged.

It still wasn’t right.

Jackie walked closer to Jan so that she didn’t have to shout as loudly as before. “Everything that’s happened,” Jackie said, breathing heavily, “everything that’s made you fucking crazy, this week or your whole life, channel it. Right now. Let it out.”

Jan nodded her head in understanding.

Then she let out a scream so loud, Jackie swore the lights at the football stadium should have popped. She let out a scream so powerful Jackie was surprised she wasn’t knocked back by the force. She let out a scream so guttural that Jackie’s heart nearly broke in two at the sound.

Jan looked up at Jackie with wide eyes, shocked by her own pain almost.

Jackie just beamed at her. “That’s more like it,” she chuckled.

After the initial shock passed, Jan could stop from falling into a fit of laughter. Jackie couldn’t help but do the same.

They spent an immeasurable amount of time laughing and jumping around like idiots in the rain until a flash of lightning struck a bit too close for comfort. They screamed at the proximity and bolted to the car, still laughing and out of breath.

They collapsed in the seats and fell into another round of giggles until their stomachs tired and their jaws ached.

Jackie looked over at Jan, with her head thrown back against the car seat, mouth upturned for the first time in what felt like ages, and Jackie’s heart soared in her chest.

And for a brief second, Jackie thought that maybe, just maybe, everything was going to turn out fine.

[rinusagitora]

Another empty seat in the city of ghosts.

Fandom: BLEACH

Characters: Isshin Kurosaki, Kisuke Urahara, Tessai Tsukabishi, Orihime Inoue, Rukia Kuchiki, Ichigo Kurosaki, Karin Kurosaki

Pairings: HitsuKarin, others not mentioned

Words: 1.5k

Summary: Shinigami!Karin AU. Chapter 6/8. WARNINGS- mentions of suicide, dysfunctional families;  Karin has taken her life. What follows is a maelstrom of emotion.

AO3

Isshin sat with Kisuke and Tessai, some of his only friends. Confidants.

He missed his daughter and she wasn't yet gone. Oh, but soon she would be. Given away to a boy he once knew well. It wasn't her wedding, though. He wished he got to see that. Karin in a beautiful kimono, glowing with happiness, next to someone she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

Instead, he got to watch her run away, never to be seen until his expiration.

And in the meantime, his children torn asunder. Hopelessly drifting in rivers of pain and confusion. He wished he was more like Masaki in those times. Empathetic, wise. But he was just a silly old man with nothing to offer but platitudes.

God, it hurt. So much so he couldn't sleep that night. Isshin sought refuge with the Urahara house in the wee hours of the morning. Tessai made tea, and Isshin cried.

"This is a fucking disaster," he said as he rubbed his eyes.

Kisuke said, "They're children. They'll understand down the line."

Isshin wasn't so sure. He leaned his head on his palm and stared at the wall as his thoughts spun. What could he have done to protect them better? To have not isolated them? And Yuzu... sweet Yuzu, blind to her siblings' tribulations until her twin couldn't take it any longer. What should he have told her? What could he do to ease her pain?

He shook his head as he wept. It was so overwhelming. "I don't think Yuzu will speak to me ever again... A fucking disaster."

Isshin blinked when he saw Kisuke pass him smokes. Isshin smoked irregularly. Socially, at Masaki's grave. That was all. He knew better. He was a doctor.

It seemed like an appropriate time to smoke, though. God knew he needed a buzz.

When he felt Karin die, he lost his legs. He wanted to run, run, run until it wasn't true anymore. Until he stopped feeling his lungs clogging with water and the agony of losing a child.

Was Karin lost? It felt like it, but she was only moving onto another world, the world she pined for day and night, year after year.

A world far away from them. From him.

Isshin curled his lips into his mouth. "I'm... I don't know how to fix this." How he was supposed to get his baby girl back.

Tessai said, dripping with only the utmost sympathy and understanding, "We're past fixing. Now... now it's just damage control. Repairing your relationship with Yuzu. Giving Karin your best."

Isshin shook his head. "Will they even hear me out?"

"Maybe. Hopefully."

"I can try talking to Karin," Kisuke said. "I don't have a rapport with Yuzu, however.

"No. No, no. I've done enough damage. Anything I say will only worsen this." Only alienate himself from his babies more.

He remembered when they were still in cribs. Chubby and giggly. How they snuggled against his chest, how their heads smelled like love. How, once upon a time, Karin and Yuzu curled up with each other in their crib.

God, he missed his babies.

"She's a bright girl, that Karin," Tessai said, extinguishing his cigarette in an ashtray. "She knows what she wants. How to get there. This was the avenue she saw most expeditious. I'm sure she still regards you all fondly."

Isshin knew that wasn't it. He shook his head. "That's the thing, she hates us all. They all hate each other now." Isshin wiped his face with his thumb. He hadn't stopped crying for days. "Karin's always hated me. Now Yuzu does too because I kept this secret for so long. Ichigo may come to hate me too for all this... They may never speak to me again." All alone, with all his babies gone.

"It's true. This is a disaster," Tessai agreed, But as was your loss of powers. And you made it through that." He held Isshin's hand, rocking it. "Your children are of the resilient ilk. Green and adaptive. They will mend. Grow. Their roots will rejoin yours."

Isshin nodded. He held Tessai's hand in both of his, nodding, sobbing. How he hoped that was true. How he yearned to hold his babies again.

He glanced at the clock. It was almost five-thirty. "I should go home." He needed to get ready.

He hadn't worn his black suit in years.

"Stay as long as you need," Kisuke reminded him.

"Thank you... but my daughter..." He smiled, thinking of Yuzu.

"We understand. We'll see you in a couple of hours, Isshin. Take care."

Isshin let himself out, feeling dreary, exhausted.

He returned home. None of his children were downstairs. He leaned against his poster of Masaki, petting her face with the back of his hand. "I miss you," he said. "I wish you were here. For our children, for me." If Masaki were still around, could she have saved them? Kept them from falling apart?

Isshin pulled away. He couldn't ruminate too long, he needed to get ready.

A black suit. He hated it. How it was loose in his chest, tight in his gut. He'd let himself go, just like his family.

Yuzu was gone by the time he returned downstairs. Ichigo, with Karin in tow, as well as Rukia and Orhime, accompanied him.

Orihime approached him and squeezed him in a hug. He returned it, squeezing her. She was such a sweet creature. Loving to everything and everyone.

"It's gonna be okay, Dad," she whispered. A precious girl. He was glad Ichigo found someone who loved him so much. Someone unconditionally kind.

"Thank you, dear," Isshin said. He cupped Orihime's cheeks. "We love you so much. You have a loving heart and my unconditional adoration."

She returned his smile. "Thanks. I love you too."

Ichigo clapped his hands. "Let's go. People will start arriving at the wake soon, we best be there before it reaches critical mass."

They all packed into the car. Karin sat in the back, in his rearview mirror. Translucent and unemotional. Ichigo hovered next to her.

It took everything in his power not to cry. Not to scoop her up and tell her how fucking much he loved her.

"We're gonna stay in the back," he grumbled at Karin, "so you can watch all the people you hurt."

Karin snort. "Ironic, coming from you of all people."

"Guys... stop," Rukia sighed. Orihime shifted uncomfortably. "Let's just have a quiet ride."

"No. What Karin did was the epitome of selfishness. We're not gonna tiptoe around that."

Karin stammered, enraged. "The epitome of selfishness?" she screamed. "Me? You're the one who refused to teach me how to protect myself against hollows, Ichigo! You left me to the wolves, all of you!"

"That's not fair to us!"

"Fair? You wanna talk about fair?"

"Enough!" Rukia boomed. "Both of you. You're fighting like children. You're adults. Warriors. This is unbecoming of both of you. If I hear anything above a whisper while we're in the goddamn temple, I'm going to choke both of you out!"

Isshin was grateful Rukia was able to act so quickly, while simultaneously embarrassed he, their father, didn't put his foot down.

He parked behind the temple and they headed in through the front. There were many people already there.

Kisuke met Isshin only minutes after his arrival. They hugged. Isshin was so grateful to have the Urahara there.

He sniffed. "Thanks for coming. Ichigo's been awful to Karin. I don't know what to do about it... he won't listen to me."

Once he gestured to them in the corner, Kisuke nodded. "I'll talk to him."

Once Kisuke left, Isshin took a seat in the front row, lost in thought, in grief, in the din of the room.

His eyes were glued to Karin's altar. Surrounded by lilies and marigolds. Smiling in her picture with her friends. Did Isshin have any of her? Of all them together, smiling and gleeful?

Isshin was not a religious man. Masaki was, though, a devotee of Kannon, goddess of mercy. Was Karin religious like her mother? Would Kannon listen if he prayed for the areligious?

He asked Kannon to watch over his baby girl Karin in the Seireitei, nonetheless.

The ceremony began with the priest stepping to the front of the room. Isshin's breath caught in his throat.

He cried through the entire ceremony. The blessings, the kind words... Utterly overwhelming.

It came to an end. He only wanted to hold Karin more.

Isshin tore himself from his chair and found Karin. Ichigo intercepted them. "We need to go," he said, "handoff is soon."

"I don't care. Karin is my daughter. I'm going to say goodbye," he snapped at Ichigo. They stared off before Ichigo stepped aside.

Karin stared numbly. "I love you," Isshin said. "I always have, and always will. You are my daughter. I will never stop loving you." He hugged her. "Never forget that. Not for a minute."

She separated from him. "Bye, Old Man."

It broke his heart. A farewell so impersonal. Still, he swallowed, cried, and nodded.

There was no fixing this.