#i don’t worry about my chronic back or light headed spells

[l3v14-ch4n]

“Guardian Demon”

MC!Monday prompt #7:  Mammon and Asmo have brought/dragged MC out to the Fall for a huge party! What’s MC doing? Are they having fun?

word count: 1156 CW: Implied drugging; Magic drugging; Not actually sure the right tags for this.... nothing really happens, but a demon does slap Erin with a kind of drugging charm, and Mammon punches him, that’s about it...  Oh and cw for just very poor writing skills and no real editing, but I tried.

Admittedly clubbing wasn’t exactly Erin’s scene. At first glance they were quite obviously more into the punk/metal scene if the amount of chains hanging off their clothing and sheer number of piercings they had was anything to go by, but with Asmo’s help and to his surprise, they cleaned up exceptionally well and managed to blend in with them just fine as any other club hopper at The Fall that evening.

They were even having a lot of fun, bumping and grinding (with Asmo’s and Mammon’s careful supervision of course) along with the pounding infernal dance music blasting throughout the club. For one evening they were finally able to cut loose completely, the stress and expectation of school and the exchange program melting away as the hours passed unnoticed, night creeping its way into morning, and nobody could possibly care less.

Unfortunately, just like with any party experience, there comes a laundry list of risks and dangers to watch out for:

There’s safety in numbers! Always make sure you’re with at least one other person at all times

Always be aware of your surroundings, especially people

NEVER leave your drink unattended, or accept drinks from a stranger, and if you do happen to leave your drink consider it undrinkable.

Just to name a few, and while Erin did their best to abide by these core party rules, none of that really mattered too much in a realm of demons and magic.

Mammon had wandered off to use the bathroom, leaving Asmo in charge of guarding the human, although he was quickly swarmed by fans of his and was far too distracted to pay close attention. It really took no effort at all for a demon to creep up on them, placing a hand radiating magic on the back of Erin’s head. 

In a split second, it was as if icy electricity jolted its way down Erin’s spine, stopping them dead as they stared blankly ahead of them. The booming bass and flashing lights of the club becoming overwhelming as their vision started to tunnel and blur, swaying on their feet before stumbling back and into the arms of the demon who’d cast the spell.

“Whoa! Careful there,” the demon grinned down at them. Erin leaned their head back against the demon’s chest to see who it was, but all they could really make out through the fog in their mind was white hair, and a leather jacket.

“Mam….mon?” Erin slurred and squeezed their eyes shut, trying to fight off the fuzzy feeling in their head.

The demon chuckled, holding them steady against his chest. “Not quite. He left a while ago, but don’t worry, I’m a friend of his! He asked me to get you home safely, so don’t worry that cute little head of yours!”

Erin shook their head and groaned, opening their eyes and trying to fight off the haze and fatigue the spell was trying to cause. If this were anyone else the spell would have had them unconscious in minutes. Erin would have to thank their chronic insomnia later for this.

“N… no. Y’re not m’ M’mmon…” They tried to shake the demon off, but their limbs felt like lead. Everything was too heavy, and too hot. Sticky and slow and uncomfortable, but they whined and continued to struggle against the demon anyway. The mark below their left collar bone started to glow faintly. The demon gripped their arms tight and snarled.

“Just be a good little human and go to sleep, will ya!”

From the other side of the crowd, a booming shout rang out even over the loud music. “GET YOUR GRIMY FUCKIN’ CLAWS OFF MY HUMAN!”

The sea of dancers parted like an ocean as the Mammon rushed through, not caring at all if he shoved someone roughly out of his way. He sprinted over and without hesitation punched the demon in the face, sending him flying back and skidding across the dance floor. 

By this time Asmo had pushed his way back through the crowd to catch Erin as they were slumping down to their knees. “Oh honey, are you alright?” Asmo cooed, petting their cheek while checking their eyes to see if they were okay.

Mammon was growling deeply while stalking over to the limp body of the offending demon. It took four massive bouncers to hold him back from causing more of a scene, while a few others were scraping the demon’s unconscious body off the dance floor.

Mammon wandered back over when he settled down and managed to convince the bouncers he wasn’t going to fight anymore, but he would have to leave for the rest of the night. 

Asmo stood, bringing Erin up with him, but it was getting increasingly harder for them to stay upright on their own. He gently placed them into Mammon’s sturdier arms for support. “I’ll stay here to deal with things, you should take them back to the house for now. I’ve seen this in enchantment before, they should be fine once they sleep it off,” Asmo explained with a frown.

Mammon grumbled, but pulled Erin’s arm around his shoulders, wrapping his other arm around their waist and lead them outside into the cool night air. 

Feeling the cool breeze on their heated skin, Erin groaned and cracked their eyes open, peeking up at him through half lidded eyes. “Mammon? Is it you this time?”

Mammon growled quietly in his chest, but took a deep breath and settled his tone for Erin’s sake. He didn’t want to make them more upset right now. “Yeah, it’s me,” he huffed. “What were ya thinking, getting yourself caught up with another demon like that? We told ya to be careful didn’t we?”

Tears pricked the corners of Erin’s eyes and their bottom lip trembled. “I…. I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

Mammon sighed and leaned down, gently nudging his forehead against theirs and spoke softly, “Hey, it’s alright. The great Mammon is here now. I’ll keep ya safe.”

“Safe…” Erin murmured, and started to lean heavily into his side.

“Wha- hey!!” Mammon yelped, blushing at how closer they were snuggling up against his side. “Don’t fall asleep now! We still gotta get back to the house!”

“Hmm, my Mammon…” Erin hummed, snuggling their face deeper into his chest. The familiar scent of his cologne and the sound of his racing heart lulling their hazy mind deeper into sleep. “M’safe now…”

Mammon paused, watching them. Slowly they slumped further and further into him until they almost fell again, but held them tighter against his chest so they wouldn’t fall.

With a soft sigh, he leaned down, hooking an arm under their knees and hoisting them up into his arm, tucking their head into his neck as he started carrying them back to the house. “Yeah, you’re safe,” he whispered softly against their forehead. “Get some rest. I’ll be here when ya wake up.” 

[ketchupkio]

Pillow Talk

co-written with @mizuriii!!

Rating: G

Category: M/M

Relationship: Legend/Warriors

Words: 2123

Contents:

established relationship, the rest of the polycule is mentioned, trans male character, fluff, like some cavity inducing fluff, light angst, nightmares, prophetic dreams, phantom pain, chronic pain, comfort, Legend and Warriors being mushy, sleeping in the same bed, lullabies, contains like 1.5 references to sex lol, also a reference to Plot??? OWO???

Summary:

Legend and Warriors get some rest... or try to.

An excerpt of something that was supposed to be canon in the AU, but we didn't think hard enough about the timeline first so it's not lmao. Hope you like it!!!!!

Context: Legend, Twilight, Sky, and Wild have just come back from a excursion and traveled the whole night, not sleeping, because they got freaked out by something. Warriors couldn't sleep either because he was worried about them (...but mostly about Legend, let's be real). Legend saw him and immediately went cling! but Wars started spouting theory and strategy and that wasn't super appreciated by the sleep deprived heroes.

The hero with his face currently buried in Warriors’ scarf groaned in protest. “Babe, c’n it wait until ’ve had caffeine or a nap? Please…”

Twilight looked like he didn’t absorb half of what Wars had said. “Strategist brain is appreciated, but a nap would be good, yeah.”

"Er.... s-sorry. We've got these rooms for the next two days, so you're all welcome to head back upstairs if you want...?"

Legend tugged on his scarf, trying to get his eyes to focus enough to glare at him. “You’re coming too. Ya didn’t sleep either, dummy.”

"I-- .... okay, okay, I'm coming. I just wanted to let them know they don't have to rush."

Warriors smiled at him and let Legend push him toward the stairs.

"Your rooms are the three at the far end of the second floor, and the first right hand door on the third."

“Their room is on the third, if you wanna avoid it,” Wind sneered. Hyrule pinched his ear and Legend flipped him off before managing to successfully shove Warriors into the stairwell.

"Are you really alright?" Warriors asked, slipping an arm around Legend’s body. ".....You look exhausted, love...."

Legend hummed. “No one got hurt, but… haven’t been sleepin’ well recently. Barely got any ‘n past few days… Nightmares… ‘N I have a hard time without you...”

"....Me too. When I turn over and you're not there, it's--.... it's cold, you know? But more than cold."

Warriors kissed his temple as he led up to their room, and produced a spare key for Legend in case he wanted to get up and get breakfast before Warriors woke later on, unlocking the door with it before slipping the key into Legend's waist pouch.

"Come sleep with me, okay...? We'll actually get some rest for once."

Legend nodded, and after the door closed, he let Warriors unbuckle his belt and open his tunic. Legend would have dropped them on the floor, but Warriors laid them over the back of a chair, along with his scarf.

“Stays and boots off,” he instructed, and Legend complied with barely an insubordinate tongue sticking out in return. Warriors chuckled at him fondly as he climbed into bed and reached for him, trying to snag the hem of his shirt as he changed into something softer.

“Love you…” Legend murmured. “C’mere…”

"Your wish is my command," Warriors hummed, settling in once he was changed himself, and nestling up under Legend’s chin. His hands pressed gently against Legend’s side and his back, and Warriors took a minute just to breathe in the smell of Legend’s presence. "I love you more..."

Legend would have protested if he hadn’t been so damn tired, so all Warriors got was a (frankly adorable) grumble as the younger hero slung his arms around him and pressed his cheek against the golden hair at his crown. Warriors could feel the tension leaving him as he relaxed, and with Legend’s steady heartbeat under his ear, he could finally breathe easy enough to relax too.

"......Goddesses, we're such anxious wrecks," he laughed after a minute. "Fuck me sideways..."

"Mmh. Maybe tomorrow."

Warriors snorted, then kissed his neck before settling again.

"Sleep well for me, love.... My night depends on it."

…..Legend tried his best. He did.

There were flashes of the desert, of a different era’s Hyrule Castle, of the shade of a king and a jaded prince taking the throne from a corrupt queen, a furious Sheikah founding a rogue organization, and an old, bitter sorcerer with a young face making a deal he couldn’t refuse. Then, dark, choking mists of acid, plants and grass melting at their feet as they advanced, searching, hunting--

Legend shot awake, gasping as phantom pain shot through his arms and back along old, white scars that coiled and branched off like vines through his blood vessels in place of the stinging, corroding pain of acid from his dream.

He didn’t even hear Warriors calling his name until the pain receded to a strong, but not overwhelming ache.

It was dark, he could hear rain hitting the shutters of the windows, and he could feel the storm in his hands and knees and hips.

“Link…” he managed, in an effort to let his partner know he was alive.

Warriors loosed a gasp of relief and worry, and then pulled Legend tight to his chest.

"Y-you were wailing," the captain said, tripping over his words, "a-and crying for me-- are you okay?"

“Sorry…” he rasped, trying to get his bearings. Gods, his throat was raw and he could feel sweat rapidly cooling on his skin in the chill the rain brought. It’d be nice if he could flex his hands at all, or move his anything without it hurting. “I-I ruined your sleep, didn’t I?”

"To hell with my sleep, y-you're in pain, aren't you? Is it the storm? ....Fuck, where'd I put my potion bag--"

“‘S okay, don’t rush… Potions don’t help a lot when there’s nothin’ to heal, babe,” Legend muttered, sluggish even as a sense of urgency crept over him. “...Had a dream. Been having similar ones lately… I have a bad feeling about it.”

"....... Can you tell me about it?" Warriors asked. "You sounded like you were in agony, it scared me...."

Legend leaned into him as best he could. “O-old pain trying to come close to dream pain… It had a sorcerer in it, and a rogue Sheikah… Didn’t Wild say the Yiga from his era used to be Sheikah? This might have been the first of them… Something about Hylian royalty… I-I had prophetic dreams before my first quest…. This feels like those.”

".....A prophetic dream you have bad feelings about....?" Warriors grimaced. "....Should we wake up Sky and the sprite? If you're having prophetic visions, they might be too, but if they're not we can maybe rule out that there's an evil sorcerer on our case."

Legend wanted to ball his fists in Warriors’ shirt, but he couldn’t make his fingers do more than curl loosely. “If I could move, yeah, but that’s probably not going to be for a while… You could get them if you wanted.”

".......Later. When the storm passes, because I'm not leaving you."

Legend let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Thank you…. Come here and hold me? I’m cold…”

He didn't have to ask Warriors twice. The captain practically wrapped himself around Legend, and pulled in close and tight.

"I've got you, love. I'll keep you warm."

Legend kissed whatever part of Warriors was closest, which happened to be his jaw. “....You’re wonderful…”

….Something nagged at him, though. Warriors hadn’t been a part of his dream that he could remember, but…

“Hey… You said I called out to you…?”

"Yeah.... I think you were asking for help...."

“That… doesn’t bode well,” Legend grimaced. “Can you promise me something, though? I mean like actually promise, no matter the circumstances.”

"......You're scaring me a little.... What is it...?"

“Don’t throw yourself in front of anything for anyone. Not even me. Don’t do reckless bullshit that would get yourself hurt instead of others. That’s not to say you can’t defend anyone, just… don’t jump in where you know you’re gonna overextend and get hurt as a result. Does that make sense? I know that’s both specific and not at the same time, but I can’t explain it. I just… have a feeling. Promise you’ll be careful about that?”

"Don't do something reckless that'll get me killed out of some white knight complex and lack of self preservation? Is that what you want from me?"

Legend tried to shrink further into Warriors’ chest. “....Yes….”

"......You're asking me for quite the tall order," Warriors hummed, pressing kisses against Legend’s temple. "Aren't I supposed to be your dashing knight in shining armor, astride a white horse, keeping all the scary monsters at bay?"

He was trying for humor, but humor wasn't a given promise.

Legend huffed, but the kisses were sweet and he liked the attention. “Yes, and I know that’s a whole personality archetype for you, but Link… I’m worried. Please. This wasn’t in my dream, but it’s got the same feeling. Can you promise me that you won’t do something stupid like that?”

"I--"

Warriors hesitated.

".....Legend-- if something happened to you--"

“No, no, that’s not relevant. Link. We carry fairies and spells and items as countermeasures so if we do get into a dire situation like that, we’ll survive and not have to endanger anyone else in the process. There would be no need for you to risk yourself like that, which is why I want you to promise me you won’t. Hyrule has the goddamn triforce. I’m sure if something were to happen to one of us, there would be some way to help that wouldn’t involve you needlessly throwing your life away. Especially if it’s me, who has items so overpowered that I don’t use them, but keep them in reach so if I need to, I can…. You’re not making me feel good about this.”

"......You didn't hear what you sounded like tonight.... I'm sorry, I just-- ....There's not a whole lot worse than having someone you love screaming for you to help them and being helpless... I don't want to repeat that when there's someone trying to kill us."

Legend scowled, then gave a long sigh. “...We also have three partners at home. We have to think about them too. Minimum number of people getting hurt…”

He… felt like he wasn’t going to get his answer at this rate. Goddamnit.

"............That could also go for you, you know.... but that isn't what you want me to say."

Warriors sighed.

".......If you promise not to get into a situation I feel like you won't come home okay in, I won't do anything stupid. Deal....?"

….That was also a hard thing to guarantee. But…

“I’ll try my best. Deal,” Legend said with a note of finality. “...Now kiss me to seal it. We’re making a contract.”

Warriors smiled and tilted up Legend's chin with his fingers, and pressed a soft, but long, luxuriant kiss against his mouth.

"I love you, love.... Please, goddesses above, get some rest..."

Legend stole another kiss because he needed it. “And I love you, Sir Knight… I’ll try, if I can. Tired…”

".... Should I sing for you...?"

When Legend looked up, Warriors wasn't looking at him, and instead trained his eyes on a particularly interesting lump on the old earthen wall as his ears burned.

"Y-y'know.... t'help you sleep...."

Goddesses above, Legend was smitten. Every day he fell a little bit harder for this man.

He kissed Warriors’ cheek. If his hands worked, he’d be tempted to stroke those beautiful, flushed ears and run his fingers over the scarred edge of his left one. “...I’d love that, baby.”

"M'kay..... Tell. No one. Okay?"

“Why would I? This is just for me. Wouldn’t wanna share it with anyone else…”

"Three reasons. Guess their names."

Legend grinned. “Why wouldn’t you want them to know? They’re our partners, we love them. Two are very musically gifted and would love it. While cute, you’re also being silly.”

"Mhhhhhhh because!! It makes me self conscious and people used to stare.... A-anyway, are you gonna hush and let me, o-or what??"

Warriors’ face was so, so red, and Legend was having some very dangerous thoughts about proposing marriage. Nonetheless, the younger hero conceded.

“Gods above, I’m so in love with you. Okay, yes, I’ll be quiet,” he said, tucking himself more comfortably into Warriors and the pillows.

Warriors kissed him again, and sighed, letting his thumb rest on Legend's cheek, the circles it ran over his skin serving as his metronome. A gentle lullaby brought Legend back to gentle shorelines, warm sand and easy, soft sunlight. It nestled him against merchants fabric that smelled lightly of spice and fairy dust, to old books with knowledge ancient and timeless. It brought him round to soft white linen and blue silk, and rocked him gently on the heels of someone taller than he was, pulling Legend over to a gentle heartbeat.

It brought him home even though home was a thousand miles and goddess only knew how many years away from now.

There was something to be said for song magic, because Warriors was doing it, whether he intended to or not. Legend could feel the intent of a spell woven into his voice. It made him feel warm and safe, eased the pain and fatigue of his body, and relaxed him enough that he immediately started to drift off, awash in the calm sea of Warriors’ voice.

He was out like a light.

Thanks for reading!!! Reblogging and/or screaming in tags/replies/inbox is SO appreciated!!!

[viking-raider]

The Belle and the Bane - Chapter I

Summary: Your simple life is disrupted, when the Bane raises the taxes of Mintwillow, yet again. Forcing your father to do something desperate to save you both.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/You

Word Count: 5,667

Rating: G - Fantasy!AU, Bane!Henry, Language, Loneliness

Inspiration: This is my oddball take on the Beauty and the Beast.

Author’s Note: Thanks to @wondersofdreaming​ for helping me out with this! Tell me what you think!

You woke early the next morning, figuring your patient hadn't gotten any worse or died, since you weren't woken up in the dead of night to rush out to her hut. The birds were singing outside your window, the rising sun pushing back the darkness of the night and the fog from the village, filling every corner of it with beautiful light. You hummed happily as you got dressed and went downstairs for breakfast, you could hear the steady and rhythmic clang of your father's hammer pounding and working some piece of metal into impossible shapes.

“Morning, dove!” He called out.

His forge was an open lean-to attached to one side of the house, a doorway giving him access to both. He always left the door open, it had become a habit between him and your mother, so they could talk to each other over the clang of his work and the quiet of hers, keeping them connected throughout their day, since they were almost always in close proximity. It also worked out, when you were younger and your mother had to run off and tend to someone. He would either sit you on the hearth rug with some of your toys, going back to his work and keeping an eye on you through the door, or he would set you down on a workbench in his area, so you could watch, and be safely out of his way. You always loved when he did that, you loved watching him shape things, making whatever his customers ordered.

“Morning, Papa!” You called back with a smile.

In more than one way, you had put on your mother's shoes, both of you would talk through the open forge door as you went about your day, making herbal packets and other things you needed, while he worked at his anvil.

“What's on the fire today?” You asked, getting the stove going and started breakfast.

“One of the boys in the village is proposing to his gal, so he's asked me to make her a ring.” Your father replied, bending over his work.

Apart from being a blacksmith, your father also dabbled in metalsmithing, since the village metalsmith had moved away almost a year ago, to hard hit to live in Mintwillow any longer.

“Jeremiah or Marcus?” You asked, frowning at the cooking food as it sizzled in the pan, the village was too small and gossip moved faster than the wind.

“Travis and Daisy.” Your father replied, changing tools.

“What?” You snapped, surprised. “I thought they broke up a month ago?”

“Love!” He laughed, shaking his head.

“Hormones!” You huffed back, chuckling.

“That too!”

“Come, eat!” You said, plating up breakfast and setting it down on the breakfast table, then taking a seat yourself.

“Smells amazing, as always.” He smiled at you, taking a seat beside you and took up his fork and knife.

“Thanks.” You smiled back at him, digging into your own plate.

A little while later, you were sitting at your table, making a parcel of herbs for one of your regular patients with a chronic illness, when you heard the clang of your father's hammer go quiet. You paused for a moment, worried that he'd pushed himself too hard and had one of his dizzy spells again. But, a second later, you heard his voice out the front window, he was in the front yard of the house, speaking to someone else. Getting up, you looked out the window and saw your father talking to a tall male, both looked stiff and angry, the strange man's face was nearly purple, he was so angry. Concerned, you went out and stood on the porch, crossing your arms over your chest and listened to them argue.

“You can't do this!” You father barked, hand clenched around the heavy hammer he was still holding. “Your master has already raised the taxes on my goods, two months ago! I'm barely breaking even with that. If he raises it again, I won't make anything!”

“Mr. Cavill can do whatever he wants with the goods his company supplies you. I was just sent here by his butler to tell you the information.” The man gruffed back, scowling at your father. “So, you can either give him everything in your possession to pay his taxes, or you can find someone else to supply you your trade goods.” He started coldly, then turned on his heels and marched away.

Your father's shoulders tensed up before thrusting his hammer into the dirt and storming away, only to come back a moment later to retrieve his hammer, then returned to his forge. You frowned after the now gone man, before walking around the house to your father's forge, finding him sitting down on a small stool beside his raging forge, hammer between his feet and his face in his hands.

It was a rare sight, to see him so dejected and beaten down.

“So, the Bane raised the taxes again?” You asked, softly.

“Nearly double since the last time.” He replied, not looking up or taking his hands from his face. “I don't know how I'll make this work.” He mumbled to himself. “I can't raise my prices, it's almost more than the villagers can afford now, with him taxing them as well.” He sighed, scrubbing his calloused hands over his tired and sunken face. “We'll either end up destitute or end up like Sheamus, the metalsmith, and move away.”

“You promised mum you'd never move away from her grave.” You said quietly, biting your lip, and feeling a hot knot in your stomach.

“I know I did, girl. I know I did.” He sighed again, sitting up and letting you see his pained expression, the glitter of unshed tears in his eyes. “I don't know what else to do.” He said softly and stood. “I'm a bit tired, Dove. I think I'll take myself a long nap.” He slowly moved into the house.

“Do you want me to make you a cup of your tea first?” You asked, following after him, concerned and worried.

“Maybe later.” He sighed, going into his room and quietly closing the room.

You stood there, at a loss from the situation, you were even more helpless in the situation. You couldn't make your patients pay anymore than your father could his customers. Sighing, you went back to your herbs, needing something to distract your mind from the grim situation. Glancing out the window, and even though you couldn't see it from this side of the house, you cursed the Bane and his evil presence in your life, in the lives of Mintwillow.

A little while later, your father came out of his room, carrying his jacket in one hand and a sealed letter in the other. You turned in your chair to face him, frowning and shaking your head at him. It was quite rare that your father went out anywhere, anything that needed to be done elsewhere, usually fell to you, while any of your father's business came to him.

“Where are you going?” You asked him as he made for the door.

“Out.” He replied, in a rather short tone. “I need to take this letter out.”

“Surely, I can do that.” You told him, shaking your head and getting out of your chair, hand held out for the letter.

“No, I'll take it out.” He shook his head back at you. “Hopefully, the walk will clear up some of my melancholy.” He told you, then went out the door.

You watched him go, troubled and worried he would do something dangerous to himself, with the state he was in.

“Sir?”

“What is it, Damien?” His master snapped from behind his massive desk, cluttered with papers of all kinds.

“You have a letter, sir.” Damien replied, unbothered by his master's perpetual sour mood.

“Put it with the other, Damien.” He huffed, rolling his eyes at the report in his hand.

“It's been labeled urgent, Sir.” Damien answered, stepping up to his desk and holding it out to him.

Rolling his eyes again, his master took the letter from his hand and opened it, skimming through it once, before actually reading it; his brows slowly lifting as he did. “This man can't possibly be serious!” He barked, reading the letter again to be sure he wasn't misreading it. “Fucking Christ, he is!” He huffed, holding the letter out to Damien.

“Who does he think I am?”

Damien read through the letter. “Perhaps, it's all he has, Sir.” He replied, finishing the letter.

“Perhaps!” He roared, huffing. “But, that isn't the type of collateral or possession I can do anything with! I'm not in the business of trafficking! Tell him no! Either useful possessions or he can go elsewhere.”

The butler frowned at the letter, his brain brewing. “Of course, Sir.” He bowed and showed himself out of his master's office, returning to the man standing in the enormous foyer. “Call back here in a week's time.” He told him, his shoulders square as he surveyed the downtrodden man.

“Thank you, sir. Thank you.” The man rambling, bowing over and over again. “Thank you.”

Damien opened the door for him, the man still thanking him as he went out the door. The butler knew his master was going to be furious that he'd taken it upon himself to reverse his choice to reject the man's offer, but hoped that, perhaps, it would brighten his master's life and the dark and oppressive castle. If it didn't, both he and the man's offer would likely be tossed out the door, if not off the nearby cliffs.

Your father came back two hours later, he looked both relieved and increasingly more troubled. He wouldn't talk to you about where he had gone or what the letter was about.

“What's done has been done. It can't be undone now, no matter how much I wish it wasn't to be.” Was all he would say to you.

Then, returned to his room.

“Dove.” Your father called up to your room.

You groaned and rolled towards the window, it was barely light out, and it was odd that your father was waking you up. Figuring you had a sudden patient, you got out of bed and quickly dressed, rushing down the stairs.

“What is it?” You asked, eyes looking around for your possible patient.

But, your father looked you over. “Why don't you go change.” he said, biting his lip. “Put your best dress on and fix your hair.”

“Why?” You frowned at him, not understanding.

“Please, Dove.” He begged you, softly.

A deep suspicion filled you, but you slowly turned and went back upstairs, doing as your father bid. He smiled at you as you came back down, but there was a poorly guarded sadness in his brown eyes. You tried asking him more questions as you followed him outside, but he was silent, his lips clamped into a thin line that went with the growing sadness in his eyes; it worried you to no end. You both trudged through the village, your father giving fellow villagers a short nod as they greeted each other as you passed them by. After a ten minute walk, your father took a sharp turn, heading out of the village and up the nearby road, the steep drop off of the cliffs to one side and a thin lining of willow trees that divided the town from the road and cliffs on the other side.

You both kept walking, you trailing slightly behind your father, your heart pounding and stomach twisting in hot and sharp knots of nausea, until you couldn't take it anymore, and you grabbed the back of his elbow, pulling him to a stop; which took an effort on your part, even though your father was weakened from the illness, he still had the thick and muscular body of a lifelong blacksmith.

“Papa, tell me what's going on?” You begged him, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “Where are we going? And, why?” You demanded, a hard lump forming in your throat as you saw just how sad and broken he really was.

“Please.”

“I promised your mother,” He paused, the emotion of mentioning your mother and the situation sticking in his throat. “I promised your mother, that I would take care of you. No matter what I had to do to make it so.” He told you, lifting his hand to your cheek, his fingers cold from the blustery winds whipping off the choppy ocean.

“What's that supposed to mean?” You frowned at him, gripping the sleeves of his coat.

“You'll find out soon enough.” He replied, pressed a kiss to your forehead. “No need worrying about it, just yet.” He added, turning away from you and continued on.

“But, I'm worrying about it now.” You replied to his back, the sound of your voice getting lost in the roar of the waves.

Sighing, you started following your father again, even more worried and concerned over what was going on. Did he arrange a marriage for you and was too worried about telling you about it, so he was just taking you to the parish church to spring it on you. Or was he planning something else entirely. You weren't sure which one worried you more, but your anxiety boosted, when your father took another turn and started up a steep road through a massive thicket of trees. You had lived in the area all of your life, so you knew what lived in this direction, and you weren't at all happy with it.

“The Bane!”

You barked at your father's back. “Why are we going to see the Bane!? What does that selfish and greedy bastard have to do with your promise to Mum?!” You demanded, stopping in the middle of the road, and refusing to go any further until he answered your questions.

His shoulders slumping, your father rubbed his face with both hands and turned around to face you. “He's agreed to see you.”

“For what?!” You growled, hands clenching.

“We'll find out when we get there.” He replied, chewing his bottom lip to bits. “So, come along, we don't want to be late.”

“I don't care if we're late!” You hissed at him. “He does nothing but hole himself up in that giant castle with all his riches, while we starve down in the village! He can wait on us for a change.” You argued, but still angrily followed. “I can't believe you're entertaining any of this! Of all the choices you could have made to keep your promise. You could have just married me off to someone in the village.”

“All the boys in the village are either betrothed or already married.” Your father sighed, shaking his head, and feeling his heart fall deeper into his boots.

He had considered that.

You were fuming by the time you both reached the Bane's door. Your father rang the doorbell, waiting for the butler to answer, and after a couple of minutes, the door opened with a loud creak. Damien lifted a brow at your father in silent acknowledgment, then looked over at you, his eyes scanning you, head to toe. It wasn't until he settled on your face that some kind of emotion showed from him, and he looked rather pleased at the sight of you, which only made you even more anxious and annoyed at the whole situation.

“This is my daughter.” Your father said, giving Damien your name and tried smiling at you proudly, but the smile itself didn't happen as well as the pride he did have in you.

“She's exceptionally beautiful.” Damien commented back. “I am sure my Master would love to have her company.” He added, with a nod of his head, like he was sure of it.

“Oh, I don't think so.” You shook your head and started to walk away.

“Come now, Dove.” Your father said, stopping you and bringing you back to the door. “He didn't mean it that way.” He told you, giving the butler a dark look.

“Of course not.” Damien replied, with a polite bow of his head. “Pardon, my unintended meaning, Ms.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Pardon given.” You said, softly, pressing your sweaty and shaking hands to your sides.

Nodding his head at you again, Damien stepped aside and motioned you inside. “I'll show you up to your room, I've made it ready for you.”

“Wait, what about my clothes?” You asked, looking at your father, confused. “This is all I have with me.”

“Worry not, Ms.” Damien told you, easily. “Clothing will be provided for you.” He assured some of your anxiety away.

“You'll be fine, Dove.” Your father smiled, giving you a strong hug. “Come and visit, when you can.” He told you, cupping your face in his hands. “And do mind your manners, for your mother and I.” He added, giving you a stern look.

“I'll try, but no promises.” You replied, rolling your eyes, hugely unhappy with him leaving you here with the Bane.

Sighing, you stepped inside the castle, shivering as the door closed with a slam and the cold air of the castle wrapped around you. You looked around the dim foyer, only a few lights were burning, just enough to see where you were going without bumping into any of the covered, but expensive, furnishings. Damien led you up the huge spiral staircase, going up several floors until he led you down the hall and to a room that was nearly the size of your father's house in the village. There was a fire already burning in the room, the heavy curtains were tied by from the three windows and the double French doors, that open out onto a private balcony. The gigantic four poster bed had its curtains pulled back and tied to its posts as well; the blankets were pulled down and the pillows fluffed. There were three other doorways as well.

It was like nothing you had ever seen before.

“If you give me your size,” Damien said, dropping a few more logs into your fireplace. “I will have a wardrobe put together for you.” He told you, offering you a friendly smile.

“Of course.” You replied, peeking out the windows. “Where's the Bane?” You asked, turning to him.

“Mr. Cavill,” He answered, with a soft sigh, he had always hated that people referred to his master as 'The Bane'.

If only they knew him, as I do. He thought for a moment.

“Is in his private chambers.” He explained to you. “I'm sure you'll be meeting him some time soon.” He added. “For now, I'll go down and fetch you some lunch.”

You gave Damien your size before he left you alone in the room. Biting your lip, you went to the double doors and stepped out onto the balcony, you were on the side of the house that faced away from the village, only seeing the two or three huts at the far end, everything else was trees, cliffs and ocean, which was so much louder, now that you were so close to the cliff's edge. It had been less than an hour, and you were already homesick, unable to stop the tears that dripped down your cheeks, but quickly wiped them away as Damien knocked on your door and came in, carrying a delicious smelling tray of food for your lunch, setting it on a table by one of the windows, then poured you a steaming cup of tea.

“Thank you.” You smiled at him, taking up the tea. “So, why doesn't the B--” You cleared your throat. “Mr. Cavill, come out of this place?” You asked him, sitting down. “No one's seen him in years. Some don't even believe he's still alive.”

“Oh, he is very much still alive.” Damien laughed, shaking his head with amusement. “And more than well. But, Mr. Cavill prefers a calm and quiet life, here in the castle. The world out there holds nothing for him.” He explained to you.

“Other than taxing people out of food, homes and livelihoods.” You snorted, with a roll of your eyes. “and sometimes, their lives themselves.” You added, your eyes darkening as you recalled all the bodies of the Villagers being washed away by the waves crashing against the cliff sides.

“When the mood befouls him, he does do some rather rash and cruel things.” Damien replied, his face darkening. “But, he's really not as awful as the villagers make him out to be.” He defended his master.

“If you say so.” You retorted, taking another sip of your tea.

“I do.” He answered, lifting a brow at you. “I've known him since he was born. So, between the two of us, I believe I am the better judge of his character.” He told you, with a sharp edge in his voice.

A bell sounded somewhere in the vastness of the castle, cutting off your and Damien's conversation.

“If you need anything, just pull the rope. I'll bring you your dinner when it is ready.” He said, pointing to the rope, then rushed out of the room and to his master's room, elsewhere.

You listened to the echo of his shoes fade away the further he got from your room, and sighed, before finishing your lunch. Once your food was gone, you stood and opened one of the three other doors, finding it was a large bathroom, then moved to the next and found it was a huge, and empty, walk-in closet. The third door, to your surprise, led into a massive library, the shelves lined with dusty and cobwebbed books, the reading sofas had white sheets draped over them. It had a huge bay window, the two side panels of the filthy window were stained glass, the Cavill family emblem and coat of arms were in the center of them, throwing reds, blues and greens onto the big rug.

Stepping into the room, you touched the spines of the books lining the tall and deep shelves, leaving fingerprints in the dust as you did; reading their names. The air in the library was musty from being closed up for so long, but still held one of your favorite scents, the smell of books. You loved how books smelled. No one book smelled the same, like their one of a kind stories between their sheltering covers gave them a unique scent all of their own. The scent of their adventures, heartbreaks, triumphs and laughs, like how people had their own special scent. A couple of the books were in languages you didn't understand, some were so thick and heavy, you had to hold them with both hands.

But, many of them you hadn't read, or even heard of.

You pulled another book off the shelf, whose title interested you, flipping open the stiff cover, the spine crackling as you did. Flipping to the first page, you started reading from it, slowly pacing the room as you did and getting lost inside of it, forgetting for several hours, that you were no longer in your own home, until your ears realized how quiet it was, there was no clang from your father's hammer meeting the anvil. It all came rushing back to you, as you looked up, blinking your dust irritated eyes as you glanced around the room, and a massive lump formed in your throat and chest. You took a shuddering breath, tears brimming in your eyes as you tried to hold back your steep loneliness and the growing weight of being homesick.

“It hasn't been a day, and I already feel like I'm dying.” You choked out loud to yourself. “How can he stand living here, with only a butler.”

“Chess.” Damien's voice retorted, startling you so badly, the book fell out of your hands with a thud. “My apologies.” He said, clearing his throat. “I've brought you your dinner.” He told you, motioning back into your room.

“Thank you.” You said, your voice no more than a squeak around the lump still there. “But,” You cleared your throat. “I'm not hungry, just now.” You told him, bending down to pick up the book.

“Of course.” He nodded, sympathetically. “It'll be there, when you do. Is there anything I can do for you?” He asked, blinking at you.

“No, thank you.” You shook your head, biting hard into your cheek to keep your emotions at bay.

Nodding again, Damien bowed to you and disappeared again. Sighing, you tried picking back up at your place in the book, but couldn't get past the first sentence, so you pulled a ribbon from your hair and used it to mark your place in the book and carried it back into your room. Setting it on one of the bed's nightstands, you rounded the bed to the tray of food on your table, your lunch tray cleared away. It smelled even more fabulous than your lunch had, but you just refilled your teacup and went into the bathroom, setting it on the sink counter and turned towards the large, claw-foot soaking tub. You plugged the drain and spun open the hot tap, humming as it came out, instantly steaming, not having to warm up buckets of water by the hearth was amazing.

“That's a nice perk.” You said, slipping out of your clothing.

Taking up your teacup, you stepped into the full and hot tub of water, with a deep and satisfied moan. You stayed in the tub, washing yourself with the expensive soap and washcloth, sipping your tea, until the water was almost ice cold, then finally got out again. Drying off, you found a silk bathrobe hanging on the back of the bathroom door and pulled it on, before padding back into your room and sitting down at the table, nibbling at your dinner. With a little bit of something on your stomach, you turned out the lights, tossed several more logs on the fire, so it would burn through the night, and crawled into bed.

Picking up your book, you read it by the flickering light of the fire, until your eyes grew heavy and you fell asleep.

You woke several hours later, in a sweaty panic, your heart thundering in your chest, like the waves battering the cliff side outside your window. It took you several long minutes to calm down and remember where you were and why. Resting back on your pillows and headboard, you closed your eyes and focused on the roar of the waves, trying to relax yourself enough to fall back to sleep, but had no luck. So, getting out of bed, you slipped on your shift and robe, before tiptoeing up to the door, pressing your ear to the cool wood to listen for any movement in the hallway. Hearing nothing, you cracked open your door and stepped out into the hall, it was dark, for obvious reasons, but you didn't let it deter you as you moved down to the stairs. The whole castle, other than your room, seemed to be as cold as a grave, it felt like one as well.

You stopped on one of the floors, and snooped around it, before turning back towards the stairs, not noticing a door behind you open and a body stepping out into the hall. A shadow followed quietly behind you, as you moved down the stairs again, to the main floor, peaking around the foyer and the open door of a study, only then, sensing the presence behind you.

“Who are you?” The shadow asked in a deep voice.

A shiver racing down your back, knowing it wasn't the soft voice of Damien, that had asked. You froze in place, realizing that the Bane was behind you, who else could it be? Surely, a would-be thief wouldn't ask who you were, giving away their own presence in the house, where you could likely scream, waking the house and get him caught in his act.

“I asked you a question.” His deep voice growled, making you gulp.

Your shoulders stiffened as you managed to mumble out your name, too afraid to turn around to face him.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, sounding no less aggravated at your presence.

You blinked several times, brow creasing with your confusion, you were about to answer him, when a rush of steps came into the room and Damien appeared behind his master, holding a light in his hand.

“Sir.” He blurted out, out of breath and panting.

“Who is this girl, Damien?” Cavill asked, turning towards his startled butler. “Why is she here?” He demanded, jaw clenched.

“She's uh..” Damien licked his lips and glanced at you as you turned around. “She's that girl, sir.” He gulped, thickly.

“This..” Cavill started to say, pointing a finger at you as he turned back to look at you, both of your eyes locking together.

Your mouth almost dropped open seeing his face.

No one had actually seen the Bane in years, especially in the village, they weren't good enough for the rich likes of his family and their station in the world. You had pictured a,—well you never really pictured him as anything. But, so many people described him as an evil and twisted bastard, who was probably uglier than the devil himself. However, the Bane was anything, but ugly. He was incredibly, and surprisingly, handsome. He couldn't be more than thirty-five, from light that Damien held, that danced in his dark curls and lit up his cerulean blue eyes, throwing lines on his face, that made the frown he was wearing, look more like a smile; which also made him look even more handsome and dashing, in his night clothes.

Damien looked between the two of you with a lifted brow, watching the both of you stare at each other, taking in and sizing the other up, before Cavill cleared his throat.

“This is the girl?” Cavill finally said, his eyes not leaving yours. “From the letter?” He frowned, finally looking away from you, and back to Damien.

“It is, sir.” He nodded at his master, a teeny ping of hope appearing in his stomach.

“Well.” Cavill cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair, seemingly flustered.

Perhaps, he isn't as horrid as everyone thinks. You thought, staring and blinking at him.

But, you had thought too soon, it seems.

“Then, why the hell is she wandering around the castle in the middle of the night!” He growled, angrily at Damien.

“I couldn't sleep.” You squeaked, startled.

His head snapped to you, like he was going to yell at you too, but his lip only twitched before he looked back at Damien. “I don't want her wandering around at night.” He hissed at the butler.

“Deal with her and send her back to the room, you surely, have made up for her.” He barked, rubbing at his temples.

“Of course, sir.” Damien nodded, looking highly concerned for his master. “I'll do that right away, sir. Can I get you anything, while I'm at it?” He asked, biting his lip.

“No.” Cavill huffed, then looked at you, his eyes had darkened to a stormy blue, but his tense shoulders relaxed the teeniest bit. “Good night.” He half whispered, half growled at you, before storming off, back to his own bedroom.

“Come, let's get you some warm milk.” Damien said, smiling at you, gently. “It might help.” He said, turning and heading towards the kitchen.

“I'm sorry, if I've gotten you into any trouble.” You told him, watching as he warmed the milk. “I didn't mean too, or to disturb anyone either. I just couldn't sleep.”

“Oh, it's all right.” He waved it off and shook his head. “You just surprised him, is all. I hadn't found the opportunity to tell him you were here. I meant to tell him during breakfast, tomorrow. But..” He chuckled, shaking his head, very amused by the whole situation.

“I surprised him?” You chuckled back, grinning at the thought you could startling someone the size of the Bane, he was easily over six foot, his body thick with well defined muscles, that you could see, even under his night clothes.

“Seems a bit far fetched.”

“It's not hard.” Damien told you, pouring the warmed milk into a glass for you. “Henry is honestly a very tender soul, under all that muscle and growling. But, life hasn't been easy for him, after losing everyone in his family to that illness several years back. Being thrust suddenly into the man of the house and the head of the family business, and so many other things, has taken its toll on him.” He explained as he escorted you back up to your room.

“Give him a chance.” He said, stopping at your door. “You two will warm up to each other in no time, and you'll see who he really is, deep down.”

“Well, you are the best judge of that, aren't you?” You replied, quoting him from earlier.

Damien laughed, looking down at his socked feet. “That I am. Good night, Ms.” He bid you with a bow of his head.

“Good night, Damien.”

[onceinabluehanguangjun]

moon in my window

Summary: for the @mdzsnet Lan Wangji birthday celebration, have some chronically depressed Lan Zhan and how his family (main focus on his husband) helps support him

Word Count: ~4k

Tags: depression, post-canon

ao3

“Ah, Er-gege, you’re too kind.”

Lan Wangji sat on the edge of the bed, a cup of tea in his hand which he held out to Wei Wuxian. He smiled in thanks, but couldn’t hide the wince. Mo Xuanyu’s body was admittedly very good at putting up with Wei Wuxian’s spirit, but it was still much less accustomed to him than Wei Wuxian’s previous body and therefore was much more susceptible to silly things. Like runny noses and never-ending headaches. Apparently Mo Xuanyu didn’t overwork his brain in the same way Wei Wuxian did. Who would’ve guessed?

With the wave of Lan Wangji’s hand, the little bit of light that shined through the paper windows was gone and they were engulfed in darkness. It lessened the pressure on his temples just enough to be thankful even more.

“Is this medicinal?” Wei Wuxian asked softly. Lan Wangji hummed his confirmation. “Ah, we should talk to Wen Ning and see if he remembered the tea Wen Qing would make me whenever I wouldn’t let her stick me with needles. It always worked for whatever was messing with me.”

“I will,” Lan Wangji said softly, voice low and careful as to not make it worse.

Wei Wuxian drank the tea as fast as his body would allow before he put the cup back in Lan Wangji’s hands and tipped forward. His head rested against the soft, expensive fabric that all the Lans wore and it just made him want to pull him into bed and trap him there for hours. Well, most things about him made him want to do that.

“Can Er-gege stay in today? Sleep sounds so nice.”

“I cannot,” Lan Wangji said softly, his arm wrapping around him and his warm hand pressing to his lower back. Wei Wuxian whined quietly, as much as his headache would allow.

“You’re Chief Cultivator, no one can tell you what to do,” Wei Wuxian said. Lan Zhan hummed, holding him carefully and closely.

“Senior Wei is the one who has a class to teach,” he said. Wei Wuxian blinked a few times as his thoughts shifted back into focus. Sometimes it was too easy to forget how good things had become. He had a husband, he had a garden, he got to teach cute little Lans about using their heads instead of just reciting rules.

All of which he loved, but a whine still found its way out into the world as he thought about having to teach when even the shielded sun of the Cloud Recesses hurt him.

“Lan Zhan, who let me have responsibilities?”

Lan Wangji breathed in slowly, head bowing to rest against Wei Wuxian’s shoulder. He sat there for a moment and, truthfully, for a moment he thought he might’ve convinced him to spend all day in bed.

“Er-gege,” Wei Wuxian breathed, sliding his hand beneath his hair to touch the nape of his neck. Lan Wangji seemed to rest a little more weight on Wei Wuxian which was admittedly out of character. He turned his head a bit to look at him, squinting in the darkness to get a better look at his face, headache be damned. He looked fine, if only just laying against Wei Wuxian. “Ah, Lan Zhan, I see. You do want to stay in bed.”

There was a long stretch of silence before a low grunt of agreement. Wei Wuxian smiled and scratched at where his hair met his neck.

“I can’t, you see,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to Lan Wangji’s clothed shoulder, “This humble one has a class to teach.”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said. He slowly pulled himself into a sitting position and Wei Wuxian felt warmed at how much he’d been able to wear him down even if they did have to get up.

Still, they sat long enough for Lan Wangji to pass him some spiritual energy to help him power through his headache and then he was pulled to his feet.

-

“Ready, Wei-qianbei?”

“As ever. Give it a try.”

Wei Wuxian leaned back on his palms as he watched Lan Jingyi focus very hard to activate the talisman he’d invented. Their assignment for the week was to create a new spell or talisman of some sort inspired by the word ‘alarm’. He shouldn’t have been surprised when a piercing noise wailed through the room in one short burst before the talisman disintegrated. Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but laugh at the hoard of Lans all covering their ears with wide, annoyed eyes turned to Jingyi who sat with red cheeks as if that wasn’t what he intended. They all knew it was.

“Perfect! That’ll startle anything,” Wei Wuxian praised, leaning forward to scribble notes for grading later. Jingyi smiled, any embarrassment gone away to make room for pride as he went to sit back beside Sizhui.

It’d taken awhile to get Lan Qiren to let him teach for real. Weeks of having him shadow every single thing Wei Wuxian did around the littlest juniors, constant grunts of disapproval, a whole separate sheet for grading Wei Wuxian that he would bring to his attention over tea every evening. But, honestly, he didn’t mind it too much. After everything, it felt somewhat normal. Besides, he was sure Lan Qiren liked him a bit more by the time he willingly handed over a few classes.

Convincing him of this class specifically, though, was a bit tougher and had to be discussed with all of the Lan Elders in a very formal meeting that required Wei Wuxian to break out his single set of white robes. They’d waited until Lan Wangji was off on a night hunt, getting rid of his unrelentingly protective gaze before bringing Wei Wuxian in to discuss giving the older disciples lessons on creating new things so they’d be better equipped to come up with something if they ever got stuck‒or at least that’s how he sold it. The minimum age they’d agreed on was the group that were done with all other sit-down classes and tended to be the main ones going on night hunts which was fair enough. It meant he got to spend more time with Lan Sizhui and he’d never complain about that.

“Alright, who’s next?”

Before anyone could even respond, the doors to the lanshi burst open. Lan Wangji stood in the doorway, tall and regal and intimidating and every bit Hanguang-Jun. Wei Wuxian felt his heart flutter childishly in his chest as if that wasn’t his husband. Husband. Ah, wasn’t that incredible?

The juniors’ eyes followed Lan Wangji as he basically glided down the walkway. Wei Wuxian smiled as he came near despite the rigid set to his features. He knew he had some important‒which typically translated to annoying‒business today. 

“Have you come to learn on your break, Hanguang-Jun?” Wei Wuxian teased. Somehow, though, the crease between his eyebrows deepened and worry pricked at Wei Wuxian. Was he angry with him for some reason?

Lan Wangji walked up to the teacher’s platform and to the side of his desk before kneeling on the ground. Wei Wuxian’s eyes widened as Lan Wangji bowed his head into his lap before adjusting himself. And there he was, the great Hanguang-Jun, laying on the floor with his face buried in his husband’s stomach and his arms wrapped around his torso. Wei Wuxian wondered if Lan Wangji could feel how hard his heart was beating.

Considering this was rather unprecedented, Wei Wuxian dumbly looked up at the juniors to guard their reactions. All of them with one exception were looking anywhere in the room other than the scene on the platform. Wei Wuxian locked eyes with Lan Sizhui‒who, for once, didn’t seem too flustered by such a bold display‒and watched as he gave a curt little nod. He wasn’t sure what he was nodding about, but he assumed it was a subtle way of saying to just let it happen. As if he needed approval to do that.

“Ah, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian said softly, resting his hand on his husband’s cheek. He used his thumb to smooth out his already perfect eyebrows and couldn’t help his smile as Lan Wangji visibly relaxed a little. His eyes stayed closed and he looked every bit like the jade everyone said he was. “Alright. Sleep well.”

Wei Wuxian looked back up, his hands sliding to cradle the back of Lan Wangji’s head against his stomach. 

“Anyone got a quieter one to try next?”

-

Lan Wangji stayed put for the entire length of his break before silently getting up and walking back out.

His class was nearly over at this point, but it was clear everyone had questions that he couldn’t answer. Their Hanguang-Jun had definitely changed and gotten more bold since Wei Wuxian came to live in the Cloud Recesses, but not like that. That was… Well, there was something wrong, to say the least. Even if it was sweet to just have him lay there for at least four incense sticks worth of time. He would have to ask him once they got back to the jingshi.

“You all did great today. For next week, how about something inspired by the word ‘heat’,” Wei Wuxian said. 

“Wei-qianbei, don’t we already have at least a few different existing talismans for that?” Lan Huizhong asked. He grinned as he pushed himself to his feet.

“Looks like you’ll have to think quite hard to come up with something, hm?” he said. Lan Huizhong smiled just a little bit‒no excessive smiling and all‒and bowed.

Wei Wuxian gathered his things and started to walk out of the lanshi. He was going to drop these off at the jingshi and then he planned to slip in on one of Lan Xichen’s sword forms classes. He did that relatively often and could feel the way that was slowly but surely helping to build Mo Xuanyu’s core. If he played it off like he was just there because he was bored, no one needed to call him out on it.

“Wei-qianbei, may this disciple speak with you for a moment?” Lan Sizhui called. Wei Wuxian grinned as he spun to see him, though stopped himself from teasing him about the formal way he called him when he saw the serious set of his features. It seemed everyone was very serious today.

“You don’t even need to ask,” he said. Lan Sizhui looked around to make sure they were alone and still took a step closer. He was breaking some rule, Wei Wuxian thought‒impropriety, personal space, secrecy, something. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s Hanguang-Jun,” he said softly. Wei Wuxian was very interested at this point and stepped even closer. “He is… melancholy.”

Wei Wuxian searched his face as he slowly repeated, “Melancholy?”

That didn’t sound right. Lan Wangji had made him tea this morning and shared his spiritual energy. Lan Wangji had smiled when Wei Wuxian had braided his hair the night before and had smiled before he bedded him. Lan Wangji had shared a bath with him, had washed his hair, had done many, many things for him as he did every day. That didn’t seem melancholy.

“Forgive this disciple’s forwardness,” Sizhui said, though he didn’t sound like he was sorry. He sounded, Wei Wuxian thought with untimely fondness, like the man who raised him. “This humble one does not mean to insinuate that Wei-qianbei does not know his husband well. Wei-qianbei is attentive and thoughtful, that is obvious. But… Xian-gege, for all that you may know him and see him and spend time with him, I know him better than anyone.”

Wei Wuxian couldn’t even be hurt by that statement. It was the truth that Lan Sizhui had probably spent more time with Lan Wangji than anyone else in the world, perhaps even rivalling Zewu-Jun at this point. Lan Wangji had admitted in the dark of one night that he’d spent many years paranoid that people would find out his A-Yuan was a Wen and that they’d go after him, so he kept him out of the dormitories until he was nearly fourteen and even then made a point to watch over him as often as he could just in case. Of course he knew him well.

“He’s always been… sad, I suppose, but some days are worse than others. Sometimes he can seem happy and other days it’s…” Lan Sizhui trailed off, looking to the side and swallowing. Wei Wuxian’s stomach twisted in his gut. “He’s been very well since you got back, but today is one of those… other days. Zewu-Jun and I handled it in the past, but now it’s sort of your duty as his husband, isn’t it?”

“Yes, A-Yuan, I think it is,” Wei Wuxian agreed. Sizhui’s shoulders relaxed a bit and that familiar smile found his lips.

“If you need help, just ask. It isn’t something you can fix completely, it’s more of making sure he doesn’t feel worse and alone. I think he’d appreciate your company. He did come to you,” Lan Sizhui said. Wei Wuxian nodded and tried to smile through the guilt in his stomach. How blind he’d been to his husband’s feelings.

“He did. I’ll do my best, thank you,” Wei Wuxian said.

“Xian-gege,” Sizhui said before he could walk too far away, reaching out to grab his arm, “It really isn’t your fault, it’s no one’s fault. It just… is.”

“It is a bit my fault,” Wei Wuxian suggested, laughing softly to try to make the guilt sound less, well, guilty, “I didn’t see it before.”

“How could you see something you weren’t looking for, though?” Lan Sizhui said, “And, really, he has been much happier since you came back.”

“Thank you,” Wei Wuxian said, trying his best to get rid of the guilt. There was no place for that when he needed to just take care of his husband in the way he took care of him. “We’ll have tea tomorrow, all three of us.”

Lan Sizhui smiled and nodded, “I’d like that.”

-

Wei Wuxian had to convince himself to not skip Zewu-Jun’s sword forms class. Lan Wangji still had meetings and Wei Wuxian would be helping no one by pacing around the jingshi for hours. Besides, he would still need his strength, wouldn’t he?

His mind, however, wasn’t all there as he thought about Lan Wangji and started dissecting every moment to see what he’d missed. This morning when it took him longer than usual to get out of bed, was that a sign and something he would need to look for? That distraction, however, led to a small, eight year old Lan accidentally nicking Wei Wuxian’s cheek with his sword. It wasn’t even enough to bleed, but Young Lans crying in guilt was not a part of the agenda and class ended early.

That left Wei Wuxian to go back to the jingshi and wait for Lan Wangji to be done for the day so he could do his best to make up for all the times he’d had Lan Wangji coddle him when he was the one who needed to be coddled. He prepared a bath, talismans on it to keep it warm, and stripped to nothing but his underrobe. After letting his hair down entirely, Wei Wuxian decided to meditate. He hated it, but it passed the time while also helping his core, so he settled in.

It was easy to slip out of it the moment Lan Wangji walked in, eyes visibly tired and shoulders rigid. Wei Wuxian rose to his feet and met him near the door, conjuring an easy grin.

“Ah, Lan Zhan,” he said softly, reaching up to hold his face in his hands. Wei Wuxian didn’t even need to pull him down, Lan Wangji’s body moved towards him as he wrapped him up into a hug. He had to stand on his toes, but he didn’t mind. “Your husband already drew you a bath. Come, let me bathe you, hm?”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji hummed. Wei Wuxian smiled and left a kiss on his shoulder before beginning to tug him behind the privacy screen.

Wei Wuxian reached up to remove his forehead ribbon first and folded it neatly to get it out of the way. His hands worked to strip him of his layers and it was hard not to see how much he was putting in to seem like he wasn’t struggling. That crease between his brow, the way his entire body was full of tension, the way he looked exhausted. How hadn’t he noticed before?

“My Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian breathed, leaving a soft kiss to his chest as he rid him of his last layer, “My love.”

He got rid of his own last layer and got in the bath first before ushering him in. Lan Wangji got in without even one playful look and laid against Wei Wuxian’s chest without any convincing. He sunk into the water up to his chin, his knees poking above the surface in response. Wei Wuxian didn’t know what else to do other than wrap his arms around him and bathe him slowly.

He thought of Sizhui’s words, how there wasn’t anything to actually do. Just make sure he didn’t feel worse or alone. Though Wei Wuxian could remember‒albeit faintly‒times when he’d felt very lonely despite being surrounded by people. He wasn’t sure his presence alone would be helpful.

“Let me hold you tonight,” Wei Wuxian told him, rubbing his hands over his chest, “Is that something you would like?”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji hummed. Not even a ‘whatever Wei Ying likes’. Wei Wuxian raked his fingers through his hair. 

Wei Wuxian worked at his body slowly. He didn’t have much spiritual energy to give him, but he tried his best to make up for it in rubbing at all the tense spots and paying extra attention to places Wei Wuxian knew he liked to be touched. The back of his neck, his arms, his hands, things that felt present.

They eventually decided to get out of the bath and move to bed. Lan Wangji seemed to be moving in slow motion as he got out of the bath. Wei Wuxian didn’t bother with drying him off with a cloth, instead making a talisman to dry them both.

“Did you eat anything, Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian asked as they both got dressed in night robes. Lan Wangji made a noise that translated to no. “Should I go get something from the kitchens?” Another ‘no’ noise. “Lan Wangji, you have to eat something.”

Then there were no noises.

Wei Wuxian looked over to his husband to see him staring at him, all that tension he’d tried to get out of his body filling him right back up like it’d never left. It seemed he’d done something wrong. Or, perhaps he’d always been doing something wrong if simply being an attentive husband set off alarm bells in Lan Wangji’s mind.

“Ah, Lan Zhan, what are you staring at?” Wei Wuxian asked, hoping to play it off as he sat in bed, “Am I not allowed to be responsible for once?”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said and maybe Wei Wuxian was being a little bit more obvious than he thought.

With a sigh, Wei Wuxian patted the bed and Lan Wangji climbed in beside him. Wei Wuxian led his head to his chest and held him there for a moment while he thought of a way to say what he was thinking and not be insulting.

“Sizhui and I had a talk today,” Wei Wuxian told him, running his fingers through his hair slowly, “And he said that you were sad. He said that you were always sad. What kind of husband have I been if I haven’t noticed, ah?”

Lan Wangji had gone tense again, but he didn’t try to pull away. His fingers slipped over Wei Wuxian’s collarbone, careful as silk.

“Does it bother you?” Lan Wangji asked carefully. Wei Wuxian made a hurt noise, trying to keep the situation as light as he could.

“Aiya, Hanguang-Jun, how could you accuse me of such a thing? As if anything about you could bother me!” Wei Wuxian said, reaching out with his other arm to grab his thigh. He pulled Lan Wangji until he was all but cradled in his lap like a baby, regardless of how much bigger than Wei Wuxian he actually was.

“Wei Ying…”

“No,” Wei Wuxian said, sighing as he allowed himself to be a little serious. He rubbed his thumb in small circles against his husband’s thigh, still keeping him in his arms, “No, it doesn’t bother me. I… Obviously it isn’t the same, but I do understand the constant of it, I guess. Shijie was, for as long as I can remember, nearly always ill, some days worse than others. The way Sizhui explained it made it seem like that’s how it is for you, only… melancholy.”

“There is nothing left to mourn that is more powerful than Wei Ying breathing,” Lan Wangji said slowly, hesitantly, “And yet I still… It seems I forgot it was this way since the beginning.”

“Ah, Lan Zhan, don’t let that make you worse, alright? I understand, I do! There is nothing worse than feeling bad when you have every reason to be happy, I understand,” Wei Ying said, trying his damnedest not to crawl out of his skin while saying that aloud. But Lan Zhan needed it. He was meant to make him feel less lonely, wasn’t he? “I do apologize for being so needy this morning. I didn’t realize.”

Lan Wangji shook his head. “No apologies.”

“Yes, but‒”

“Wei Ying will have whatever he desires.”

��“Ah, Lan Zhan, don’t say things like that, I might take advantage,” Wei Wuxian said warmly, nuzzling his nose into the top of his head, “But, truly, it’s alright. I’m here and I plan to annoy you for the rest of this life and probably a few more, so of course it doesn’t bother me. You may have to tell me sometimes if I don’t notice right away, but I will never mind it. I get to cuddle you during class and everything. Do you know what I would’ve done in my first life if you cuddled me in class? I would’ve fainted!”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji hummed. But his eyes had closed and he let his body relax a bit more in Wei Wuxian’s grip. 

Wei Wuxian smiled and traced his jaw with his thumb, pulling his legs a bit closer so he could cover him up with a blanket. If this is how bad days ended for the rest of their life, he wouldn’t mind.

“My cute little Hanguang-Jun, so small,” Wei Wuxian cooed, kissing the side of his face as he tucked the blanket around him. A smile pulled at Lan Wangji’s lips and although it didn’t stay, it still was worth everything. “Ah, you like that? Should I baby you more, my love? My A-Zhan, hm?”

It was easy to just hold him and cover him in kisses and cuddles without any expectation for him to say anything back or even smle if he didn’t want to. Wei Wuxian held him until he fell asleep and then held him a bit longer before he eventually had to slowly get up and find something to eat. There were some loquats in a bowl that were there for any late night snacking on Wei Wuxian’s part or just if he forgot to eat in the first place, so he sat and ate a few while staring where Lan Wangji laid the entire time. It wasn’t until he crawled back into bed that Wei Wuxian realized he no longer felt guilty.

It simply was and would be and Wei Wuxian was more than willing to take it in stride.

[lonelyaligned]

Hiraeth

So here it is! It's not done, I'll probably work on it for a while, or make a series I'm not sure yet.

But I'm very proud of it, I used to write all the time when I was younger, it really helped me work through trauma and other things. So I am very proud to show you my latest maladaptive daydream that is: What if Somewhere Else really existed, what would happen and why would I make the first few chapters pure angst? OR 'Hiraeth' One of my favourite welsh words to describe a form of homesickness for somewhere that doesn't exist, or you can never go to. Seemed appropriate. Not sure if this is a 'make better' fic or a 'at least it's not as bad' one.

Please go check it out over on my ao3 and check out my tma brain rot tiktok @//lonelyaligned too

or read under the cut <3

disclaimer: I'm a dyslexic chronically ill adhd person, so I may be flakey with the old grammar/spelling etc, do excuse me

Around them the panopticon rumbles, distorting and glitching like an old TV screen, an eerie halo of eyes surrounds Jon, inky black tears streaked his face. Martin had seen this before while he was doing a statement. The other man stood, warm tears streaming down his grubby face.

“I’m not leaving you trapped here killing the world while I watch!” he shouts, gesturing to the crumbling room. Loud painful static sounds from all around them while Jon stares on, eyes an unsettlingly vivid green.

“If you stay, you’ll die!” Jon shouts back, his voice distorting.

“Then I’ll die…” Martin responds, standing defiantly in front of him, he flings his arms out beside him as he speaks.

“No!” Jon quickly responds, losing Martin was one of the worst things he could imagine, but he'll lose him either way possibly. Jon knows he’s a monster, he couldn’t pull Martin down any further than he already has. Jon screams in pain as he feels the Institute ripping apart, tearing him from it.

Part of the ceiling between them cracks and falls, large chunks of Victorian masonry come crashing down. Jon manages to step back in time, his reflexes faster than his partners. Part of a large block catches Martin on the shoulder, blood starts staining his dirty woollen jumper after a few moments. He grabs his shoulder in pain and cries out. He can’t imagine anything worse than losing Jon… again.

Jon closes some of the space between them, “Martin, please! I can’t lose you. Not like this…” he reaches out a hand, going to touch Martin’s uninjured shoulder.

Martin flinches away angrily “Tough! Okay? Where you go, I go!” he winces through gritted teeth, the tears start welling up again, he feels the uncomfortable lump rise in his throat as he chokes back a sob.

The static around them grows louder and angrier, whining at a pitch that makes Martin’s head spin. Jon’s arm falls back to his side and he looks at Martin, taking in his hair, strawberry blonde in a mess of curls, the freckles hidden under the soot and dirt on his face, his glasses which by now have a large fracturing crack through one lens. The bulk and softness of his form, his arms which held Jon through so many nightmares and the hands which held his own through the past gods know how long in the hellscape outside of these walls. He knew he may never see him again.

Jon sighs, “That’s the deal…” the static grows more, swallowing almost every other sound, “Okay” he says, gently nodding.

Martin looks at him, worried and slightly confused, “What?”, he reaches out a hand to Jon, who accepts it on his own. Jon’s hand is warm and feels almost like it’s vibrating with energy, like the feeling of static.

Jon turned his head, looking towards the still figure behind him, “Do it! The knife’s just there. Let them go.” At this Martin pulls him closer, his eyes wide and tearful.

“I’m not going to kill you!” he shouts in anger and surprise, tears falling down his cheeks again.

“Cut the tether. Send them away.” Jon says, his voice strained from the pain, “Maybe we both die. Probably. But maybe not.” He looks Martin in the eye as he talks, “Maybe, maybe everything works out, and we end up somewhere else.” he lets go of his hand, Martin is reluctant to let go, he tries to pull Jon closer again.

“Together?” he sniffs, trying to hold himself together but he feels closer and closer to breaking down and just clinging to Jon as the building collapses. Jon releases his hand and turns around, making his way over to Jonah’s prone body. He scoops up the knife with a clink as it leaves the marble floor. He’s close to crying himself, he takes this moment to try to compose himself for Martin.

“One way or another. Together” Jon says with his back turned to Martin, gripping the knife tighter. Martin walks over to him, being careful not to trip on chunks of stone, trying to not look at the lifeless body of his former boss in front of Jon. He reaches out and touches Jon’s waist, “I don’t think I can…” he says almost defeated, the other man turns around, his eyes flickering a brighter green.

“It has to be you. The Eye won’t let me do it.” Jon says cupping a hand to Martin’s damp cheek, his thumb strokes away a tear as it falls. Martin squeezes his eyes shut and presses his cheek closer and closer to Jon’s hand. He leans his head forward to meet Jon’s forehead, his hand reaching out for the knife.

“Are you sure about this?” Martin sobs, Jon closes his eyes, with both their hands on the knife he guides Martin’s hand up to his chest.

“No.” Jon tries hard to not let his voice quiver, Martin's breath catches in his throat as he tries to calm his breathing down, “But I love you,” Jon says moving his hand to Martin’s chin, tilting his head gently so he’s looking him in the eye. As he says this Martin’s fear starts to melt away, maybe Jon is right and they’ll end up somewhere safer together, maybe he’s wrong but he knows, either way, they will be together.

“I love you too.” Martin chokes out, Jon reaches up and plants a kiss on Martin’s warm but chapped lips. Martin sinks into the kiss and pushes the knife in, guided by Jon. Jon’s lips part from the kiss with a pained gasp as a hot patch of red blossoms under his grey t-shirt. Martin lets go and starts to cry now, Jon’s legs give way from beneath him as his breathing becomes rapid and shallow.

The static hisses and glitches rapidly around the room, pained and angry. The green in Jon’s eyes turns to grey as he watches Martin’s face, he always wants this to be the last thing he sees. Martin gently folds to the ground, letting Jon fall, the knife still protruding out of his chest. The sticky blood on his shirt almost completely changed its colour. Martin cradles his head in his lap, one hand stroking Jon’s scruffy dark brown hair, he watches the glitter of the grey patches which run throughout it. Jon always joked it made people think he was older than he was.

The static becomes deafening as the ominously glowing halo of eyes around his head distorts and disappears. Jon blinks tears from his eyes, his vision goes in and out of darkness, he finds it harder and harder to focus on Martin’s face. His eyes return to their human deep brown as the static crescendos. Around the pair, a blinding white light appears and then suddenly vanishes along with the static. Jon’s eyes close as Martin pulls him even closer, he doesn’t even notice the door swing open as the darkness quickly enveloped the room.

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

10 minutes earlier, the tunnels under the institute

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

Basira opened the last of the gas valves, “That should do it” she says, Georgie absentmindedly nods. She, Melanie and Basira all have t-shirts tied around their faces as makeshift masks.

“I can’t believe him…” she scoffs, looking upwards towards the Panopticon, “W-well actually I can. But I mean seriously? Just leave everyone else to clean up his mess as he galivants off towards certain doom. Classic fucking Jonathan Sims”

“Just be glad Martin already thought of this,” Basira says.

“Are you done now, I really don’t want to stay here any longer than I have to?” Melanie says, she leans against the tunnel wall, it’s cool and firm, Georgie reaches out and grabs the woman’s hand in hers. “We’re done, let’s get out of he-” she’s cut off as the tunnel walls start to rumble and shake, dust pours down from the ceiling. “Oh fuck sake he’s done it already, okay come on” She pulls Melanie towards the exit, Basira follows them, the webbed lighter in her hand. They reached the door to the stairs and she set fire to the book they had with them, the last Leitner.

“Feels almost right that a burning book should bring down this place,” she says as she throws it as far as she can down the corridor before shutting the door and running up the stairs. It only takes a few moments for the gas to ignite and the blast sends the three of them crashing up the stairs. Georgie and Melanie had a head start, Basira got caught on her leg by a falling piece of rubble.

“Just run, I’ll find you” the woman shouts up to them, her voice getting lost in the roar of static around them.

Melanie kept one hand on the wall and the other firmly in Georgies. She felt glad that the steps out of this tunnel were even and uniform, not like some of the others which were uneven and worn over time. The static whirling around her head reminded her of the pain and noise she heard when she ‘quit’. The pained scream of the Eye as it was ripped away from this reality made her grit her teeth and just run harder.

“Come on, we’re almost there I think” Georgie shouted, she wasn’t sure though as she didn’t recognise this part of the staircase. She knew it wasn’t the same one they entered in but it felt like it was going on too long. They were going up too high, they should definitely have been at ground level by now.

They could hear others shouting in the distance, the static grew louder. They could recognise Martin’s voice carrying above the noise, Georgie’s pace slowed slightly, they shouldn’t be up the top of the panopticon, “Wait a sec,” she whispered, pulling Melanie’s arm to get her to stop, “Something wrong?” Melanie asked.

“I.. I don’t know where we are. We should have left the staircase a while back” The floor continued to shake and rumble beneath them, they could feel the heat from the fire making its way up, smoke curled a few steps down, licking at their feet. They couldn’t hear the shouting anymore, but as they ascended what happened to be the last few steps, the screeching static grew until they could almost bear it no longer. Melanie tripped on a step, holding her hands to her ears, tears fell down her face. “Make it stop!” she cried.

“Melanie please, come on, we have to go.” Georgie tugged on her arm, when she turned around she was standing in front of a door, bright white light streamed from around the frame. As Georgie puts a hand on the doorknob, the noise and light suddenly vanish, leaving a deafening silence behind. Melanie gasped, relieved and shocked.

Georgie pushed the door open.

[moriavis]

Hi!! I saw your coldflash prompt request and thought I’d give it a go. (Super thrilled to see another ace girl :)) anyway: Barry is a corpse from a witch hanging that Len is supposed to dispose of. Before he can bury him, Barry wakes up and reveals that he is in fact a magician and he tricked the executioner. Then I guess Len has to go with him or turn him in?

Oh. My. God. Three years. I am the worst. Um. Here’s your story? /o\

(Also on AO3.)

~*~

Leonard hefted his shovel to his other shoulder as he walked, trying in vain to ease the chronic ache he'd gained after years of labor. He'd dreamed of getting out of Central when he was younger, but… it was what it was.

And Thawne was paying him good coin to clean up his latest witch hunt.

The makeshift gallows was easy to see even from this distance: the old oak tree stood on the gentle slope of a low hill, and there wasn't even the hint of a breeze to sway the body.

Leonard finished the climb, and he looked at the body for a minute before he turned his attention to the hard dirt beneath his feet. Whoever it was had been young. It was a goddamn tragedy. Thawne had wanted him to burn the body before burial, but Leonard wasn't too inclined to follow through. If he'd wanted the dead kid roasted, he should've done it himself. Leonard didn't particularly like the heat.

He stepped away from the tree and tested the ground with a jab of his shovel blade. It seemed as good a place as any, so Leonard set his attention entirely on digging, finding the monotony and physical activity something close to meditative. He was looking forward to the end of this distasteful business, so he could go back to town and have a drink and his dinner at the tavern.

There was a grunt behind him, the creak of the tree branch, and then a loud thud as something hit the ground.

Leonard whirled around, his shovel at the ready; his blow was strong, sure--then it hit a field of sparkling red energy and shattered into a thousand pieces, leaving Leonard holding the jagged remains of his shovel handle.

"Sorry!" The man--who only moments before hung from the tree with a broken neck and bluish skin--winced and smiled at Leonard. "I didn't want to play dead a second time. Uh... sorry for scaring you."

"What the fuck?" Leonard asked. He looked at the remains of his shovel handle and dropped it to the ground. "You owe me a shovel."

"Okay, I can tell this isn't the best introduction."

Leonard scoffed in response and folded his arms over his chest.

"Hey, let's start over. I'm Barry." Barry stuck out his hand as if Leonard would be stupid enough to shake it. Leonard stared at Barry's hand until Barry sheepishly dropped it. "I guess I'll be on my way?"

Leonard glared at Barry. Didn't want to play dead, did he? "Give me one reason why I shouldn't let everyone know you survived so they can kill you for real this time?"

Barry got his feet under him and rose slowly, raising his hands as if he could keep Leonard calm in the meantime. "Because that would be a really bad idea?"

Leonard tilted his head. "Try again."

"Okay. Okay, look. Eobard's been after me for years, okay? It's like his favorite game is taking me down. So this time I let him. I used a spell to make it look like I was dead, so he'd finally get over it. I didn't think anyone would actually come to bury me."

"So you're saying you actually are a witch."

Barry rubbed the back of his head. "I prefer magician? But I guess 'witch' works, too."

"Hm." Leonard looked around, but the darkness was quiet and peaceful. It was just the two of them. "Fine. Hit the road."

"Wha--really?" Barry blinked at Leonard, and for a second Leonard wished it wasn't so dark, just so he could see the kid better.

Leonard shrugged. "You don't worship the devil or anything, right?"

Barry rolled his eyes. "Nope."

"Then I don't give a damn." Leonard kicked at the remains of his shovel and then pushed past Barry to grab the noose and unwind the rope from the tree. "I got paid to clean up. It's what I'm going to do."

Barry was silent as Leonard finished unwinding the rope and tossed it into the shallow hole he'd dug before his tools were ruined. "Eobard's going to know you let me go."

"That's my problem to worry about, kid." Leonard looked around in a vain effort to keep himself busy. There wasn't really very much here, for a place where someone had faked their murder.

"Come with me," Barry blurted out all at once.

Leonard scrubbed his hand over his face in exasperation. "I'm a stranger," he said pointedly.

"You're a stranger who's letting me go," Barry said. "That's better than a lot of other people would do." Leonard turned to face him, and Barry shook his head. "Listen. I don't have a lot of time.." He clasped his hands together, and there was a dull glow of light that illuminated his fingers a fleshy orange. When he opened his hands, there was a small charm in the shape of a lightning bolt.

He held his hand out, and Leonard, bewildered and a little suspicious, accepted the gift.

"Think about it," Barry said. "If you change your mind, just snap that in half. I'll come back for you."

You should worry about yourself," Leonard said as he glanced down at the tiny metallic lightning bolt in his palm.

When Leonard looked back up, Barry was gone. In his place stood a brand new shovel.

Leonard laughed softly, and went about his original business, faking a grave that was no longer needed.

He wasn't naive or foolish--he knew that Thawne would be suspicious. If luck was on his side, he could resolve his affairs and maybe send a letter to Lisa. When he was ready…

Well. The kid had given him a way out. All Leonard had to do was take it.

~*~

[ofxwordsxandxletters]

Splitting Open

Series: Wynonna Earp

Disclaimer: The plot and pairing are mine and everything else is borrowed in this work of fan-made fiction off of which no money is made. 

Pairing: Hollirey

Rating: PG

When Bobo Del Rey has a migraine and tries to ignore it, he ends up having to be taken care of. 

Author’s note: As someone who suffers chronic migraine, I wanted to write a drabble with Bobo Del Rey experiencing them and having to have his partner and found!family taking care of him. So you get this. 

*~*~*~*

Splitting Open

It crept upon him in increments so he hadn't fully caught the warning signs too used to the thrum of the curse and the constant heat under his skin. It made him sort of push passed anything else that didn't hit him like a freight train.

Until the throbbing, stabbing pain centered behind his eyes has him doubling over and nearly vomiting mid-step. Ones like these that came slowly and then struck at once tended to put him out for hours if not a full day. And this was particularly problematic as he was on his way to meet up with a certain heir. He braces himself against the door of the truck and considers just canceling and telling her that he had better things to do and she'd just have to wait but...

Waverly would be there and honestly, he didn't want to disappoint her. His stomach revolts violently and he ends up gagging but at least the pressure has lessened somewhat. It grants him at least clear enough vision to drive himself to Shorty's. In hindsight, he probably should have just asked one of the Revenants to do this but there was no way he was having them see him in this sort of state.

It still takes him longer than he likes and he misses a couple of turns, twice. Hopefully, Wynonna didn't expect him to be punctual.

Getting out of the truck leaves him dizzy and realizing that this was probably the worst idea he'd had and that in retrospect he was probably not thinking too clearly as his head was throbbing and it was very hard to focus on any one thing for too long. He closes his eyes a moment to try and reorient himself which once again takes longer than he'd like. He feels hot and cold and dizzy. Clammy and not at all like he should be doing this. But something, something wouldn't go well if he didn't. The reason was now fuzzy but he doesn't like it so he forces himself a step at a time forward. The light hurts, sounds hurt, everything just hurt.

Entering is no better; the sharp smells and sounds only make him want to vomit again and he struggles to stay upright. “It's about time you sho...Bobo?”

He struggles to look anything close to cocky and imposing and is sure there's no point as the look he's getting is quite concerned. And when it's from Wynonna, well he's clearly not hiding anything. “Migraine,” he manages to get out, “S-sort of snuck up on me...” His gesture is shaky, sloppy even as he tries to sound like it wasn't as much as it was.

“Migraine,” Wynonna says slowly gazing at him.

“Mmhmm, you know; headache on steroids? Everything hurts, smells are vomit-inducing, lights are awful, noise is worse. Those things? Got one trying to stab me through my eye. S' fantastic.”

“Then why the hell are you here instead of laying down somewhere?”

He wants to point out what should be obvious; they had a truce and he was getting tired of being accused of not pulling his weight in it but his stomach decides at that moment to want to revolt and he barely manages to get to a trashcan before he's retching miserably the throbbing worsening. “Goddammit, Bobo Del Rey,” Wynonna huffs as she approaches, “There are some things you don't try to force yourself through. This is one of them.”

“'S not...like I'd get much in the way of quiet at the compound a-anyway so if I'm going to be miserable might as well do as you asked.”

“Except, I'd like you to be coherent enough to give me an update. You are clearly feeling like someone ran you over a few times and I really do not want to deal with you having to get a trashcan every few minutes.”

He wants to argue but at this point; was he really going to win? Everything was just making things so much worse. Footsteps approach and he grimaces. “Is he okay?” Robin asks softly.

“Migraine apparently,” Wynonna answers, “Should probably put him in Doc's room until he gets back and can deal with him.”

“Ahhh, yeah, if you do that let me get something that might help. I'll be right back,” comes his immediate quiet answer before the steps recede lighter this time. Bobo had to hand it to that one in particular; he didn't absolutely hate him.

The jury was still out on the others most of the time.

He can barely finish that to completion before he winces at just everything. And then there are the soft footsteps before something is slipped over his head and the noise goes silent. Oh. Headphones. Robin had...

Yes, he definitely would let this one live. Of course he's lightly tugged and he goes with deciding that he's had more than enough of all of this. Of everything. The silence helps the throbbing and he is far more pliant to being pushed into the familiar sheets on Doc's bed before he just curls up. He's pretty sure the headphones keep him from hearing anything that might remotely be insulting about his pitiable state whether it's imagined or real and he is fine with that.

Sleep comes in fits and starts until there is a gentle shifting and he blinks blearily up at Waverly. His angel smiles softly before lightly pressing and he moves so he's laying on his back wondering what she was... The feel of a cold pack against his forehead startles him somewhat but helps immeasurably. His eyes slowly flutter closed and he's sure she mouth's something but can't quite make it out as he settles once more.

The next time he awakens the pain has lessened and the still cold item against his skin tells him it's been changed recently. Slowly shifting it and removing the headphones, he finds the room dark but can make out the figure sitting in the chair nearby. “Henry,” he manages.

“Robert,” comes the soft response, “You should take better care.”

“T-to be fair I didn't exactly notice this one coming. It happens sometimes.”

“Well, when you knew you should have called. I would have come to the park and kept an eye on things. Wynonna, for all her faults, would understand not wanting to deal with anyone in that case. Your health is important to us.”

“Is it now?”

“Do not be daft,” the man warns him, “I'm sour enough with you for things to be uncomfortable but there is also Waverly who would like you to know and I quote 'you have absolutely no common-sense or sense of self-preservation and when you are well enough she's going to punch you for this' end quote. So maybe learn a little better not to upset your family.”

“She...said that?”

“That she did and I am sure she means it, too.”

He can't help the soft chuckle before he'd murmur, “Maybe not the worst thing to hear in all of this.”

Doc rolls his eyes as he moves closer before gently reaching to brush his fingers along his jaw. “I let Levi know you'd be here for a spell and not to worry about you as well as to keep your more tempestuous community members in check so that you do not have to worry.”

“You actually trust Levi to do that?”

“No, that's why I also called and repeated it to Hui and Howard both.”

Bobo can't help laughing softly. “You are certainly learning, Henry. And...thank you. For what it's worth, you didn't have to do that and I appreciate it.”

“Hey now,” Doc murmurs gently as he cups the side of his face, “We are partners, yes? That means I'm allowed to try and help look after the boys if I feel the need.”

“And we both know the boys need all the looking after in the world.”

“Ain't gonna argue that because they are frightfully bad at a lot of things. However, you are to worry about nothing and just rest. I mean it.”

“You know I'm pretty bad at that,” he remarks, “How are you going to be sure that I will?”

At that, the other straightens before removing his hat and making short work of his boots, pants and shirt before slowly sliding into the bed curling an arm around him. “Because, Robert,” he murmurs nuzzling against his jaw, “I'm gonna be right here makin' sure you do.”

[january3693]

Most nights, Remus was a deep sleeper. He could snore straight through the shouts and small explosions that came part and parcel with sharing a dorm with James, Sirius, and Peter. On weekends, Remus could sleep through breakfast all the way to lunchtime if no one dragged him out of bed.

It was as though his body was trying to store sleep. stockpiling it for that time of the month when Remus would find no rest at all.

The full moon wasn’t for two more days, but the anxiety, restlessness, and nausea that always accompanied it had started early this month. Remus had been tossing and turning in bed for hours, his mind racing in circles as his muscles ached and his stomach churned. Finally, he admitted defeat and rolled out of bed, shivering at the cold stones beneath his bare feet. He felt chilled to the bone but knew that his chills could turn to fevered sweats at any moment.

Grabbing the transfiguration textbook from his beside cabinet, Remus headed for the stairs, intending to curl up on a couch by the fire and get ahead on his reading since he was sure he would miss at least a day or two stuck in the hospital wing under Madame Pomfrey’s fiercely watchful eye. He was almost to the door when he saw the thin crack of light shining through the curtains of another bed.

It seemed Remus wasn’t the only one unable to sleep tonight.

Remus wasn’t surprised to see the light was coming from Sirius’s bed. Of them all, Sirius probably slept the least. He was a chronic insomniac who somehow managed to function on a scant few hours of sleep caught every other night, or so it always seemed.

Like a moth, Remus felt himself drawn to the light, or rather to what was behind it. He and Sirius had officially been together for a little over a month now, and it was still thrilling and terrifying in equal measures. Even now, exhausted and anxious and woozy, Remus could feel his heart beat a little faster just thinking of Sirius. Of his boyfriend.

The polite, normal thing to do would have been to knock lightly on one of the bed posts or whisper a greeting to let Sirius know he was there, but Remus couldn’t resist the opportunity to just look at Sirius. It felt like he’d been repressing the urge to do exactly that for so long that being able to look at Sirius without having to hide his interest, his longing, still felt strange and almost miraculous.

Staring through the narrow slit between the curtains, Remus was gifted with a sight only rarely glimpsed by anyone around Hogwarts: Sirius Black studying.

Wearing a rumbled t-shirt for a Muggle band Remus had only vaguely heard of and a pair of red-striped pajama bottoms, Sirius sat cross-legged at the head of his bed. Books lay scattered around him. An inkpot balanced precariously on a small stack of textbooks, while Sirius used the back cover of another as a makeshift writing desk. Sirius was chewing absently on the end of his quill while the ink smudged index finger of his free hand wandered down the page of their charms textbook, searching for some specific point or theory.

There was something breathtakingly intimate about the scene before Remus. He felt almost embarrassed to witness it, but his discomfiture paled beside the twin forces of adoration and desire coiling in Remus’s chest. These feelings weren’t exactly new, but giving himself permission to feel them was.

“Going to stand there all night, Moony, or would you like to come in?” Sirius asked quietly.

Remus blushed and ducked his head, stammering out a whispered apology. Sirius didn’t look up right away. He kept his eyes on his parchment as he copied down a sentence in his elegant, almost calligraphic handwriting. Remus could have used that moment to escape downstairs or back to his own bed, but he didn’t. He was frozen in place. Had Sirius really just invited him into his bed?

When Sirius finally looked up there was a smirk on his lips so infuriatingly confident that Remus almost considered leaving out of spite. Almost.

“Well?” Sirius asked quietly. When Remus remained firmly rooted in place, he picked up the book with the inkpot balanced precariously on top of it, and moved it to make room for Remus to sit facing him. “I could use your help with this bit about the theory behind the vinegar to wine spell.”

His smirk had softened, and when Remus nodded and finally slipped all the way through the curtains to sit on the bed, Sirius’s face almost reflected the nervous flutter Remus felt within his own chest. This was all new for Sirius too, Remus reminded himself.

There was a bit of shuffling, rearranging books and pillows, and few hasty spells to clean up after Sirius’s inkpot inevitably spilled. Then they were sat facing each other. An hour passed like that, studying mixed with glances that lingered when they caught each other looking, touches that might have been accidental, but became tentatively purposeful when they weren’t rejected. It was awkward and distracting, and even through his escalating exhaustion, Remus loved it.

*

Sirius could see Remus was flagging. He’d been staring at the same paragraph for almost ten minutes now. His eyes were drooping, their focus going soft, and at any minute he was likely to topple over and upset the inkpot again. Even Sirius was finally feeling the bone-deep heaviness that told him he would finally be able to sleep. It was time for both of them to be done for the night, especially since they would soon be up all night for the coming full moon.

Remus didn’t even seem to notice as Sirius put away his books and essay. He continued to stare dazedly at transfiguration diagrams. A smile tugged at Sirius’s lips. It was unusual to see Remus so unguarded, so vulnerable. It raised protective feelings toward Remus that Sirius had possessed for years, but which he was discovering new facets to now that they were dating. He wanted to pull Remus down beside him, to wrap them both in blankets and hold him tight through all the pain the full moon brought every month.

When Sirius pulled the book from his hands, Remus startled out of a half doze. “I think we’re both ready to try falling asleep again, yeah?” Sirius whispered.

He wanted to kiss the small dimple that formed at the corner of Remus’s sleepy smile. “You’re right…” Remus said around a yawn. He stretched his legs out, and some joint popped as he shuffled toward the edge of the bed.

Panic, sudden but still sleepy, tugged at Sirius, and he reached out, catching Remus’s wrist.

“Stay?” Sirius whispered.

This was new territory for him, and he could feel his heart beating faster. He’d been with other boys, dated them, snogged them, even shagged a few, but he’d never had one in his bed. He’d never slept with any of them. It had never been something that occurred to him. The dorm beds at Hogwarts were comfy but narrow, and Sirius had never felt the desire to squeeze himself into one beside another person. Until now.

Remus blinked and looked down at his wrist still encircled by Sirius’s ink-stained fingers. He looked awake now. Awake and suddenly nervous.

“Just to sleep,” Sirius said hastily. “It doesn’t have to be anything else, just sleeping.”

Remus bit his lip, tugging away the dimple Sirius still wanted to kiss. Sirius tried not to wince. Had he been too bold? Too forward? He’d only dated in the loosest sense of the word before this, really it had been more reoccurring appointments to snog behind tapestries and get each other off in unused classrooms. He’d never had a real boyfriend before, and even if he had, Remus was more than that already. Remus was special, and Sirius didn't want to screw things up with him.

“It’s all right,” Sirius added, trying to hide his sudden attack of nerves. “It’s all right if you don’t want to.” He wanted Remus here, to nestle close to him, but he didn’t want it if Remus didn’t. Trying to cuddle if Remus was too tense and anxious to want it wouldn’t give Sirius any enjoyment either.

Remus cocked his head to the side. He didn’t look at Sirius, but he stopped worrying at his lip. “Well, it is warmer in here than it would be back in my bed.”

Perhaps it wasn’t the ringing enthusiasm and passionate goodnight kiss Sirius might have liked, but he grinned like an idiot anyway.

There was more shuffling and bumping of elbows and hips and knees and then Sirius was lying in bed with his boyfriend for the first time.

Remus’s feet were cold and there wasn’t nearly enough room for them to sprawl comfortably. Yet...Remus pressed his icy toes against Sirius’s warm calves, and the tight space meant that they were both lying on their sides, facing each other only inches apart.

“I don’t know if I’m going to be able to fall asleep,” Remus whispered. Sirius could feel the air of his breath across his cheek.

“Me neither,” Sirius replied. He was staring into Remus’s wide, amber brown eyes, which should have felt ridiculous and clichéd. Instead it felt like being caught in a strange mirror, his own fears and hopes reflected back at him.

The dimple made a triumphant return as Remus smiled again. “It might help if we at least tried closing our eyes,” Remus said.

Sirius returned the small smile with a grin of his own. “I will if you will.”

Smile and dimple still in place, Remus closed his eyes. Sirius wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or disappointed, but he followed through and let his own tired eyes fall shut.

The press of lips against his own made Sirius’s eyes open right back up. The kiss had been briefer and possibly more innocent than any they’d ever shared before, and by the time Sirius could focus, Remus had already returned his head to his borrowed pillow. His eyes were still shut, but his smile was wider and self-satisfied.

Grinning, Sirius closed his eyes again.

It's also on AO3

[sockknitterporg]

I Was Adopted by Aliens: Chapter 7

Chapter Directory

I awoke to gentle knocking, and opened the door. I could smell fresh paint outside, it made me slightly nauseous. A four legged worker was outside, with a small device in their hands. I invited them in.

"This is a clock. Our day is about eighteen of your hours long. It begins at clock zero, which is the time of the sunset on the winter solstice and first day of the year."

I looked at the thing. It was ten progress bars stacked on top of each other. The bottom two seemed to be unmoving, the next few moved slowly, while the top few moved quickly.

"The bottom line represents the entire day. It's about halfway through," they said, pointing it out. "So it would be nearly dawn, or just after, if we were on the planet."

There were also marks painted above the bar to mark out its subdivisions.

"The next bar represents half that time, you can see it's very close to completely full."

"Wait wait, the day's half over, measured from sundown. Are you nocturnal?" I asked.

"Yes. Are you not?"

"No. I prefer the higher brightness lights, but I left them off for your sake." I could flip the lights on high when I needed them.

"I see. I will inform the Patriarch. Moving on, the next bar represents half of the second one. And so on. The fifth bar is closest to your hour, and the top one is our shortest unit of time outside of scientific settings that require more precision. Is this sufficient?"

I looked over the subdividing marks on the clock. It would be easiest if I could take my medicines at a routine time each day, preferably corresponding with waking and sleeping. If I slept for eight hours each day, that would give me ten hours awake each day. A healthy person would probably bemoan the missing six hours of wakefulness, but the chronic fatigue inside of me made it sound good. Maybe I'd even feel better on this schedule.

That just left my meds. "I need to ask the medical team about my medications, then."

I figured I'd ask later, but the worker cocked their head strangely. "This is Rose, speaking through the mind link. What do you need?"

I was stunned. "Hi, Rose. My medications are designed to be taken twice an Earth day. Can you make slightly smaller versions so I can take them twice in one of your days instead?"

"Why don't you just use the clock to figure out when you need to take them?"

"Several reasons," I answered, feeling slightly annoyed. "One, it would mean taking them at a different time each day. Two, I am having enough difficulty learning your clocks without trying to add converting back and forth between your time and Earth time. Three, I have memory problems and cognitive difficulties as a result of my genetic defect, and the odds of my miscalculating and missing taking my medicine or taking them too soon are really high. Four, humans benefit significantly from having an established routine. I would like to wake up, take my medications, go about my day, and take my medications before sleeping, as I'm accustomed to."

"I thought your species was highly adaptable?"

"We are. But the way we accomplish that is by only adapting to things that are unavoidable. There's no need to make things more complicated than absolutely necessary. If it's not possible for you to make smaller versions, then I'll have to figure it out. But if you can, it would be ideal."

"I see. I'll need a few hours to tinker with them, but I'll have your new medicine delivered to your room."

"Thank you, Rose," I said gratefully.

The worker stretched a bit. "I'm glad that was easy!" So they'd retained awareness of the conversation. "Tell me everything else you need," they said. "We'll do our best to provide it."

I tried to list everything I could think of, from toothbrush and floss to shoes, from notebooks to more knitting supplies. I tried to think of anything I might possibly need, sanitary supplies, hair ties, hair brushes, and more.

"I'll also need a way to contact someone if I need assistance," I added.

"What do you mean?"

"Were you the one who found me during my flare?"

"No, but I am aware of it. Is that common for your species?"

"Not for the entire species, but for me, yes. If I need to use the toilet or take medicine or eat during a flare, I'll need help. And I won't be able to go find anyone."

"We could assign a worker to sit outside in case you need them."

"No, that... That's not an ideal solution, and I don't feel up to explaining why. I'd rather something like a telephone where I could speak with someone to explain what I need, or a button I could press that would notify someone to come here."

"We could make a simple button. We're still working on adapting a tablet to your visual wavelengths. The medical team wants to test your sight in a few days. Once we have a working tablet, you'll be able to use it for communication and learning our written language. We're already repainting all the ship's signs in purple for you. Even if you don't learn to read them properly, hopefully you'll be able to use them to guide you somewhat."

"Thank you. I'm... I can't believe you're going to so much trouble to make me comfortable here."

"You are part of our family now, for however long you have left."

That was ominous.

"Unless you know something I don't, I don't think I'll be dying any time soon." I folded my arms in annoyance, and if they thought I was frightened, maybe they'd explain.

"Robin said that you were nearing the end of your life cycle, that's all."

"No, I don't know where Robin got that idea from. I've got a bare minimum of thirty Earth years left, and more likely fifty or more."

They let out an awful noise. "But you said you were too old to get a new family?!"

Oh. I unfolded my arms and sighed. "Humans reach maturity and the end of our growth period at eighteen Earth years, but can live to be up to one hundred and ten Earth years. If your family dies before you reach maturity, in your first eighteen years, you get a new family. If your family dies after that time, you just... Live by yourself."

"But...but that could mean up to ninety two of your years alone!"

"Yes, it could."

It made that awful distressed noise again. "That's horrible!"

"It's normal for humans. We just... Adapt."

"But you save your adaptability for situations that are unavoidable. That is avoidable."

How best to explain. "Humans are...more territorial. If Mother were a human, she would know that I wasn't born of her, and possibly try to stop me from using resources that could go to the children she birthed. While we do have adoption, it's usually reserved for families that can't birth children at all. Also our families are much smaller, only a handful of individuals. Once reaching maturity, many will leave their families to start their own homes."

"It sounds like your parents are more like mentors than parents."

"Maybe. What do mentors do in your species?"

"Once a child is old enough to leave Mother, they are placed with one or two mentors, who will nurture them and teach them how to be an adult. Then, when the child is old enough to work as an adult, they join the rest of the family properly."

"And if you mentored a child, would you want to see that child be more successful than other children?"

They fidgeted nervously. "Somewhat, yes, although that is shameful to admit. But most mentors feel similarly. A child's success is a reflection of them."

I nodded. "But because you're all from the same family, you wouldn't sabotage another mentor to make your child look better. Or steal resources from them to give to your child."

They could see where this was going. "But human parents would do those things?"

"Yes. Not always, and as we've grown as a society, that happens less and less often."

"The less scarce resources are, the less you fight over them?"

"Exactly."

"Then why do you still have war now?"

I wasn't feeling up to answering. "It's complicated. Another time?"

"Yes. Are you hungry?"

"I am. I'd also like to have a small supply of food in here, to eat when I don't feel well enough to go get food or need a small snack at odd times."

"Don't worry about that. You'll have a button to press when you need help, and if you want to ask for food then do so."

"I would prefer to do some things for myself."

"Why?" The question was so open it surprised me.

These things - still hadn't asked a species name, damn my memory - had a family/colony structure that was based on cooperation and interdependence. They probably didn't have a concept of 'doing things for yourself', not the way humans did. As long as I helped out to the best of my ability, they were ready to throw the entire colony's resources at helping me.

"There's no sense wasting someone else's time for something I could do."

"It would be more trouble to get food storage into your room than it would to have someone get it for you. Unless this is a 'contingency plan'? Are you afraid of not having food?"

I sighed. "No, it's fine. I'll just ask."

They nodded. "And what about now? Do you want to come eat with everyone or do you want to eat here?"

"I'd like to come eat with everyone."

They nodded and held the door open for me. Outside of my room, I looked at the painting on my door. I couldn't make sense of the writing system, but something told me I was looking at pictographs rather than phonetic spelling. Especially when I saw, carefully reproduced, the man and woman from the Voyager's golden record. "What does this say?"

"This room is for Morgan, the human," they read. "See? Human," they said, pointing it out.

I laughed. "Yes, I see. What are your people called?"

"You can't say it. We can't say your words either, but when I say 'yellow sun bipeds', the translator knows I mean you and translates appropriately. That's also how we all 'remember' the human names you give us. We actually don't, but the translator does."

"I see. Then I'll call your people the Familions, which is a play on the word family, which seems to be the most important part of your culture, to me."

They waved their hand in what seemed to be a gesture of understanding. We walked along towards the main hallway.

"This ship must be huge. How far away are we going?"

"The main hallway has a -" technology I don't understand "-so you're never more than a short walk from where you want to go."

"I didn't understand much of that."

"The main hallway is circular and moves in a central shaft, so we walk down the hall while the hall moves inside the ship, and we arrive at the door to the dining room easily," they said, leading me into the dining room. "You're never more than a moment from anywhere."

If it was like an elevator, I didn't know how it could serve the entire ship without wait times, but apparently it worked.

The dining room was huge. Cavernous, even. The ceiling was painted black, and the walls were painted purple, though plain instead of the sparkling wallpaper. Mushrooms grew out of pots along the walls, and misters kept them hydrated.

Over a hundred Familions sat at tables throughout the area, and while I could see food being served at the back, many of them were gathered around the walls, simply grabbing mushrooms and eating them raw.

There was a small cooking area partitioned off, it looked recent and hurried. A few pots of mushrooms of a different type were growing in that section. A worker was making something as we walked up, and soon turned around to present me with something vaguely like mushroom risotto with a bowl of plum-like fruits on the side and a large glass of water.

"Don't share your food with anyone, and don't sit by the walls," they advised me, then started to clean up. Apparently I had my own kitchen due to the dietary differences. "I tried my best to make it taste good, let me know if you have any ideas."

"Thanks," I said, and took my tray to a central table. The worker escorting me went to get their own tray, and came to sit with me.

"Your diet is fascinating, in a horrifying way. No offence intended."

I laughed before tucking into my food. It wasn't that bad. Strange, mostly. "This is good, mostly. For having to figure me out from scratch, it's really good. I don't suppose you have salt?"

"Salt is corrosive. You eat it?"

"In very small amounts, yes. It's beneficial in small amounts, though large amounts cause trouble. It makes things taste better."

"I'll tell the medical team."

"Thanks." Out of things to say, we ate in silence. It was too late for children to be up, so it was quite peaceful. After dinner, I asked to be shown the way back to my room. I also asked for them to set my clock's alarm to wake me at clock zero the next day. I was going to start keeping a proper schedule starting in the morning.

[charmedguy18]

Full moon: Ember

                                                          Prelude: The Scene sets in a dark green forest that is well lit by the light from fireflies that swarms it on this full mooned night. Deep in the middle of this enchanted forest sits a young guy with his pen and notepad, book of spells and his cards. Some knows about his witchery that he does however most do not. This forest is his safe place, his hideaway where nobody can find him and that allows him to clear his mind.

                                                          ACT one: After a stressfull day, Lex finds himself wandering through the forest that was known to everyone as the Devils playground. It was given that name due to its history of where people went to practice their magick and unfortunate sacrifices. He claimed this wooded area as his home away from reality with its natural lighting and clear waters that ran through it. Nobody knew that this place of recorded danger was his place of peace and solitude.

Lex's phone rings just in time after he finishes excerising his psychic abilities all alone in the middle of his hide away. "Hey, wassup?" he answers. " Not much man, just wondering how you been...I haven't heard from you in awhile and it seems as if nobody has been able to get ahold of you...is everything ok?". Cesaro, with deep concern, questions Lex's where abouts and why he's been a ghost. "Sorry about that....i...i just been staying to myself and been entangled in my thoughts.". He replies.

Cesaro: Dude you know you can't just go ghost on us---

Lex: I know...I know and I'm sorry....

Cesaro:  look...we just care about you...every since that one accident...

Lex: Now why would you bring that up? You know I'm still healing from that...

Ces: It's been a year.

Lex: I don't care....he died in my arms as i drug his body out of that house....I couldn't bring him back....I loved him....just have a hard time letting go...had i fought harder for him maybe he would be here now....or maybe just maybe if I went with him i could have protected him...

Ces: Or maybe if you would have told him you are psychic and a magician he would have never went to that party.....i still can't believe you never told him..

Lex: There's a reason why i never told him...He would've thought that I was crazy and wouldn't talk to me no longer....look it doesn't matter. He's gone and I can't bring him back nor do I have the power to...I just need time to heal.

One year ago, Lex lost a very good friend of his....Lance. He and Lex were the best of friends although Lex never out right just told him how he felt. Lance had an idea of said feelings but never really touched on it due to not wanting to make things awkward. The night before Halloween Lance went to a house party where a few of his friends were but had no idea that what was supposed to be a fun night out for him ended up being a night full of sorrow for Lex. Lance was a nice guy that everyone got along with however he often found himself in multiple dangerous situations...I guess you can say that he lived on the edge dangerously and lived for the adrenaline. To this very day nobody knows who opened fire that night and ended up shooting him through the heart except for one person...ultimately leaving him lifeless. Now we have a depressed Lex that’s full of guilty feeling lost and alone.

Ces: He's not himself and hasn't been in a while.

Rayne:  I know....I still haven't really held a good conversation with him since....well you know when.

Ces: Are you still hung up on that shit too??

"He was my friend too!!" Rayne shouted. "Friend!?...ya'll were friends huh?? more like fuck buddies if you asked me!!!" an irate Cesaro screamed at the top of his lungs. Before Lance's death, he and Rayne had a secret relationship that barely anybody knew about...not even Lex and they were all best friends.

Rayne: How in the hell did you know that!!!

Ces: You must have have forgotten that Lance and I were really tight until a female started to come in between us and ruined "Bro Time"...I didn't know that it was you that he was talking to until he showed up to my apartment sporting the same crescent moon indentation as you on his arm....You are so lucky that I kept it to myself and spared Lex's feelings. You have no idea how many times I listened to him crying and wishing that Lance loved him the way he loved him NO IDEA!!

Rayne: .....You're right....absolutely right....I’m really sorry....I didn't think....Lance told me that Lex had a thing for him but was trying to distance himself from him until his feelings for him dissipated..but it was hard for him to do so because he knew how much that would hurt him and that he couldn't stand to break his heart...

Ces: Lance wasn't gay though.

Rayne: you're right...but he never claimed straight either Ces: Oh damn....it makes since why he would always try to make Lex happy...

Rayne: Apparently they had something going on or whatever but only reason why we hooked up those times was because we was lonely...and needed that connection. It felt good for a while but things started to get complicated and it wasn’t long that we had to part ways for a while...reason why i didn't go to the party with him plus my ex was going to be there too but had i still went I'd be dead too.

Rayne's ex boyfriend Marc couldn't stand Lance and his somewhat clean image. He felt as if Lance was better than everybody and was hell bent on causing him major destruction. Lex goes home to his apartment at Firestone villas on the outskirts of  Constellation ranch. He paces the living room with his mind racing at 100 miles per hour. His head filled with guilt, sorrow and stress while he's feeling lost and alone. He reaches for his Egyptian dagger and begins to make slits on his arms and legs a form of relief and ease tension off of his heavy soul. So that nobody will catch on to the harm that he does to himself, He recites the Latin healing spell that brings his body back to its original scar-less form.  His phone lights up in the darkened bedroom in which he lies in with tears still falling from his eyes.

Lex: ...Hello?

Rayne: Hey there my mystic oracle. how are you doing?

Lex: ehh...i’m alright just here in bed jamming out to some Midnight Hour before I retire for the night. Wassup?

Rayne: Not much Cesaro and I wanted to make sure you was OK (Cesaro chimes in to say hi) ..you know we worry about you.

Lex: Thank you. I appreciate that a lot. Both Rayne and Ces: No problem, are you feeling any better?

Lex: Somewhat....like i said before , it's going to take some time to heal from lance's death on top of this chronic sadness---

Cesaro: How about you smoke some chronic?

Rayne: Cesaro-Miguel!!!

Cesaro: What!? hell it could probably help him.

Lex: Look i don't need drugs...I just need time and for this healing process to be as smooth as possible...however i’m coming to a conclusion that what I so desperately need...doesn't exist for me...

Rayne: Don’t say that..

Lex: why not? It's true. Look history says that the more i get close to a guy the more they push away...until they leave...I’m tired and need to at least attempt to get some sleep but there’s this big ass bat that looking at me though my window with its bright yellow eyes...

Rayne: You been drinking?

Lex: No..

Ces: Lies!!!

Lex: (laughs) no lies...but let me get some sleep, I gotta get up early in the morning. Good night y'all.

Both: Rayne and Ces: Night bud

Lex goes to his window to look at the mysterious bat. He looks at it with confusion is his eyes because the winged creature spread its wings  as if it was getting ready for a hug. Still in awe Lex looks at the bat and wanted to take a picture of it but the bat started to flap his wings and flew towards the full moon in the sky leaving Lex to get a feeling of warmth and protection.

[fatal-blow]

27 and 47-49 for the writers’ asks

I forgot I reblogged that haha.  Under the cut for the long ass fight scene I decided to throw in :P

27.  Favouriteline/scene

Hh shit, any number of my fight scenes?  Especially ones with Fergus, cus...god I just love his fighting style, it’s such a joy to write.  Here, I’ll share an excerpt of one scene I really like:

At one time, Fergus might have paused and let Magics talk, butnot now that he knew that they had attacked one of the Betas.  There were five in total surrounding him in the living room, two flanking Kaneand three behind him.

Time to party.

He whipped around,slinging hot coffee into the face of one (painful, right in the eyes,he sectioned it off), then twisted and flung the mug itself at another(shards of glass in his cheek and brow, shock from the blow).  That was all he could manage before he wastackled to the floor.

He hadn’t expected Kane on top of him, though.  Kane got in two good hitswith brass knuckles (he heard hisribs crack) before Fergus kicked him off.  Ashe scrambled backwards across the floor, straight into the legs of one of themagickers, the realization hit him like one of Kane’s punches.

Kane was working for Magics.

“You sonuva bitch!” he snarled, lunging at him.

He was intercepted by a blast of air from one of themagickers.  The coffee table broke hisfall.  Hardly stunned, he was back on hisfeet, grabbing his extendable staff from his hip.  Kane met him, dodged a swing from thepartially extended stick, hit him in the stomach.  Fergus grabbed his hair and head butted himtwice.  He retreated.

Another spell hit him, but they hadn’t performed itright.  Pure magic washed off of him,only nipping at his clothes.  A third hitwith similar results.

Shortening his staff, he met them in close combat.  First the one to his left, who he’d hit withthe mug.  Her face was filled with cutsfrom the glass.  God, she lookedyoung.  She was conjuring another spell,light flashing about her fingers.  Hejumped and slammed his rod into her temple, knocking her out cold.

With a twirl of his staff, he extended it and advanced onanother magicker.  He’d put down two,since the one with the burns had withdrawn. Kane was back again, though.

He wasn’t worried. Kane was easy.  He knew hisfighting style inside and out.  He rushedin, overpowered, or he picked them off from a distance, there was no inbetween.  Ducking, he met Kane’s chargeand flipped him over his back.  Kanelanded on his toes, a snarl on his lips as he faced him.

Another spell.  Thefloor bucked beneath them and a shard of rock pierced the carpet betweenthem.  A second shot up behind Fergus,cutting his retreat.  He shortened hisstaff,eyes scanning.  Hecouldn’t fight forever, and it was about time he left.

His eyes met those of a magicker.  They had kitchen knives hanging in the airaround them.

“DON’T HIT HIM!” Kane yelled.

Too late, the magicker flung one of the knives straight intohis gut.  Agony tore into him, but onlyfor a second.  Kane and the magickerscried out collectively as he gave them his pain.  As they crumpled he turned and sprinted down thehall.  Without pain, he ran as if he wereuninjured.

That’s a long excerpt lol whoops

47.  Bestway to procrastinate

Drawing, haha.  Moodboards.  Oh, I’ve been watching a lot of speedpaints lately too.

48.  What’sthe most self-insert character/scene you’ve ever written?

Mmm.  Well, a long, long time ago, Abby WAS a self-insert, but she’s...very much not anymore.  Um.  I relate to William a lot and tend to sink a lot of my real life frustrations into him, chronic pain included.  I have a character called Chris too who I accidentally made look a LOT like me, but I’m not even sure if they’re gonna be in the story yet.

49.  Whichcharacter would you most want to be friends with, if they were real?

Definitely Jon!  Not only would it be like.  Super fun to hang out with him and Tom but he’s RICH and he’s not afraid to give to people and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t into that.  Really though he’s just a super generous and fun guy who needs more genuine friends in his life.

[singminibang]

Blind Date

Author: Bitsy83 (tumblr: @bitsy83)

Artist: stevetwisp (tumblr: @stevetwisp)

Summary: Ash has been set up on a blind date that is quickly going wrong. Can the night be salvaged by the unexpected help of a good friend?

There were a lot of things Ash had put up with over the years.  She’d put up with rude subway passengers complaining about her quills.  She had dealt with hecklers at her shows.  And Lance had supplied her with more than enough headaches that she could care to remember.  She even had been promised the chance of winning 100,000 dollars only to find out it was a scam, followed by a near death experience with almost drowning inside of the Moon theater.  

All of that was nothing compared to what she was going through tonight.

Ever since Mr. Moon announced to the audience that she had been dumped by her boyfriend, her Aunt Ruth - a loving, but rather nosy porcupine who lived in the suburbs - made it her sole mission to get her niece back into the dating game by finding her a proper boyfriend.  Ruth was part of a large knitting group that met every week.  During one meeting, she had shared with her fellow knitters that her poor niece was nursing a broken heart and needed to find a knight in shinning armor to help her recover from her recent bout with depression.  Ruth’s friends were more than happy to ask their many nephews, neighbors, and whomever they felt eligible to court the lovely porcupine…despite Ash’s numerous attempts to tell them it wasn’t necessary and she’d rather not get back into the dating game at this point.

Ash knew from the start this date was going to be a disaster.  First off, the mother of Ash’s “date” had already gone ahead and made the reservations for a Tex-Mex restaurant and she hated Tex-Mex.  She loved spicy food, but for some reason anything south of the border (or close to it) always left her feeling nauseated and would haunt her for the remainder of the evening. Second, her date’s name was Stewart and was not the most charming porcupine on the planet. In fact, she swore he was some sort of beaver with really strong hair gel.  He dressed a bit like a stereotypical hipster, complete with black-rimmed glasses, flannel shirt covering a tee that had a T-rex playing guitar, and a stocking cap that fit surprisingly well over his quilled head.  This was due to the fact that he suffered from chronic quill loss and every now and then, a few would quills would pop out and fall to the floor.  But the absolute worse thing about this date is that Stewart hated anything mainstream, confirming Ash’s suspicious of his hipster appearance.  Ash appreciated indie rock and even went to some underground bands while she was dating Lance, but she still liked current bands and singers.  While trying to break the ice with Stewart, she had let it slip that Fur-Out Boy was one of her favorite bands, which sent him on a rant for ten minutes of how they became the biggest sellouts in all music history.

She was ready to bail before they had even ordered their food.  

Ash just gripped her menu, pretending to look at the entrees when really she was trying to figure out what to do to get out of this.  She was hating every second and knew it was only going to get worse the longer she stayed there.  She tried to be friendly with Stewart for her aunt’s sake, but he was making it impossible.  She silently scolded herself for not telling Meena or Rosita she had a date that night and to plan an emergency text or phone call to give her an excuse to leave.  She thought of faking an illness, but she had a feeling that Stewart would see right though that.  Still, looking at the entrees the menu had to offer, she probably didn’t have to do much faking.  

“Ash?  Ash!”

“What?”  She quickly put down the menu to see that Stewart had been addressing her.  

“I asked if you found anything good,” he said, pulling a few stray quill from under his cap and letting them drop on the floor.  

“Oh, um, I was thinking of going light tonight.  You know, just a salad or something.”

Stewart scoffed and rolled his eyes.  “Typical girl.  Always worried about your figure; too afraid to try anything bold or exciting.”

“What’s wrong with salads?”

“I’m just saying you girls are always freaking out if you eat a sugar cube or something and think you’ll explode into some blimp.  Hate to break this to you, but if you thinking eating ‘low fat’ foods is saving you calories, they stuff those things with sugar to make up for the fat loss, so you’ve probably already been suckered.”

Ironically, Ash already knew about the controversy with “low-fat” foods and was well aware of this.  “I don’t actually…” she started to say, but Stewart wasn’t done.  

“Who cares what diet snobs and conglomerate organizations think of your food choices?” he continued, closing his menu.  “Just eat what you want.”

“Ok…I want to eat a salad.”  

Stewart looked at Ash as if she had grown an extra head.  “Did you hear what I just said?”

“Really wish I didn’t,” Ash muttered, putting her face behind the menu again.

Stewart then reached over and lowered the menu.  “Hey, maybe you should let me order for you, huh?  You seem a bit confused on what you want.”  

“I already told you want I wanted,” she said, trying to hide her annoyance.  

“Like I said: confused.  But, hey, you want a salad, go ahead and get a salad.  You probably don’t want to to be too bloated for later anyway.”

Ash looked up, cocking an eyebrow.  “What’s going on later?  You wanted to go see a movie or something?”  Ash almost hoped that’s what he meant.  Seeing a movie would mean they wouldn’t have to talk to each other, unless he liked to nitpick every mistake on the screen.  She could tell this was the type of guy who’d watch a trailer halfway through, then flood the comment section with critiques complete with bad spelling.  

Stewart leaned forward and wiggled his eyebrows.  “I was thinking something more…private.”

Ash leaned back, trying to create as much space between them sitting down.  She really did not like where this was going.  “How private are we talking here?”

“Maybe your place?  I’d suggest mine, but the walls are pretty thin in my parent’s basement and…”

“Ok, stop!”  Ash snapped, throwing up her paws to silence the forward porcupine.  “Dude, are you serious?  We just met!  I barely remember your last name.”

“So?  Why should we let society tell when we can or can’t?  We’re animals, remember?  We gotta do as nature commands.  Besides, I thought you rocker chicks were kinda, ya know, ready and willing?”

Ash felt her face go red.  Not even Lance went this far, this fast on their first date.  She wanted to strangle this weirdo, but there were security cameras around and she was pretty sure there was a cop in the booth next to them.  The last thing she needed was to be tried with murder in the first degree.  Still, what could she do?  If she stormed out, then someone was bound to record it and she’d be on every social media page on the Internet.  Then people would be stretching the truth and Stewart would probably twist the situation around.  And what would her aunt Ruth say?  Obviously, staying there wasn’t an option.  She could try to get out through the fire exit near the bathroom, but what if it was alarmed?  She needed some way to escape before…

“Ash?”

The familiar voice snapped Ash out of her panic attack.  She looked up to see the most beautiful sight she had ever laid eyes on: Johnny.  He was approaching their table, carrying a plastic bag filled with various items she couldn’t identify.  

“Johnny!” she proclaimed, grateful for the distraction.  “What are you doing here?”

“I was gonna ask you the same thing,” he said.  “Why aren’t you at the theater?  Mr. Moon wanted us there at six for warm-ups.”

“Uh, excuse me,” Stewart said, clearly upset at being interrupted.  “Ash, who is this guy?”

Before Ash could answer, Johnny was already extending his hand.  “Oh, sorry mate.  Name’s Johnny; I’m a friend of Ash here.  We both work at the Moon Theater.”

Stewart reluctantly shook Johnny’s hand, which practically covered half his arm, then looked back at Ash.  “Oh, I see.  This is a, uh, ‘buddy’ of yours, Ashy?”  Even without the air quotes, Ash knew what Stewart meant and was about to grab the knife in front of her when she felt Johnny’s hand on her shoulder, calming her instantly.  

“So, yeah, Mr. Moon sent out a group text to everyone this morning about tomorrow’s rehearsal being changed to tonight.  Something about last minute plans or whatever.  Anyway, I was just getting some tucker for later and I just happened to see you from the street.  I figured you probably didn’t get the memo.”

Ash just stared at Johnny.  She knew he was lying since Mr. Moon rarely texted anyone.  He was an old-fashioned phone call kind of marsupial.  Besides, he just recently got a flip phone that made texting close to impossible.

Then Johnny sent a subtle hint by darting his eyes to the door, then back to her.  Catching on, she played along.  

“Oh, right!” Ash said, giving her forehead a light smack.  “I totally blanked on that.  I’m sorry, Stewart, but I’m gonna have to bail - I mean, go.  Come on, Johnny!  Let’s hurry before you get a ticket for being double-parked. Bye!”

“Cheers, mate,” said Johnny, following Ash.  

“W-wait a second!” exclaimed Stewart.  “Who’s gonna pay for dinner?”  

“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Ash called back.  

Before Stewart could try anything else, Johnny and Ash were already clear out of the restaurant.  Ash wasted no time in searching for Johnny’s truck.  “Where are you parked?” she asked.

“’Round the corner.  This way,” he said, leading her down the street.

Once they found the truck and were both securely inside, they took a minute to breathe, then busted out laughing.  “Oh man, that was close!” said Ash.  

“Yeah,” said Johnny putting the bag on the seat between them.  “So, what was that?  A bad blind date or something?”

“Bad is putting it lightly,” said Ash.  “My aunt set me up with him. She figured I needed help moving on from Lance.  I swear, if you hadn’t come in…hey, why are you here, anyway?”

Johnny blushed slightly and scratched the back of his neck.  “Yeah, well, I was actually just stopping off at the store to get some groceries and I happened to see you from the sidewalk.  From the look on your face, you needed some backup.  Hope I wasn’t intruding.  I mean, I know how independent you are and…”

Ash raised her paws, hushing Johnny.  “No, no!  You were great.  I knew this date was going to bomb from the first second I laid eyes on that loser.  So…yeah, you were awesome.  Thank you.”  Ash reached over and gave Johnny’s arm a gentle squeeze.  She felt his muscles tighten up a bit, possibly due to nerves.  Sensing the awkwardness, she quickly removed her paw.  “Sorry…” she muttered.  

“It’s alright…” he muttered back.  For awhile, they just sat there, trying figure out what to do next.    

“So…” Johnny said, finally breaking the tension.  “You planning anything else tonight?  It’s still pretty early.”

Ash shrugged.  “Go home, I guess.  I think I still got some leftover mac and cheese in the fridge I could heat up.”

“You haven’t eaten yet?”

“Nah.  Apparently, ordering salads is frowned upon from whatever planet that jerk was from.  That, and I can’t stand Tex-Mex so I doubt I would’ve found anything edible.”

“Well…what’re your thoughts on Asian?”

Ash cocked an eyebrow as she looked up at the gorilla.  “I’m rather partial to it.  What did you have in mind?”

“Well, I was heading for this place that has really good Dim-Sum.  If you want, we could get a table and just…you know, hang.  Would…you like to get some Dim-Sum?”

It was obvious Johnny was trying to make a little rhyme joke.  Normally, Ash would roll her eyes at what she would consider a “dad joke,” but she smiled.  This was Johnny; he was too adorable to chastise.  

“I’d love some,” she said, trying to continue the pun.

Johnny immediately brightened. “Great!  Then let’s go get some.”

“Johnny…”

“Right. Last one.  Promise.”  

Johnny was not kidding about the restaurant.  It was called The Lotus Garden and was located next to the boardwalk.  It had a lovely interior with paintings of ancient China and even paper lanterns hanging over the tables.  The waitress - a slender grey cat - seemed to recognize Johnny and when he introduced Ash to her, she couldn’t help but giggle with a broad grin on her face.  Clearly, she didn’t know this was just an impromptu dinner with a friend.  Johnny took the liberty of ordering, since Ash had never been there before.  Normally, whenever she got Chinese, it was always lo mein or some kind of wanton soup.  He had ordered a couple of lettuce wraps with a rice-and-vegetable filling, followed by some soup steamed buns.  They were the most delicious thing Ash had ever tasted.  The moist buns were filled with a steamy savory broth that melted in her mouth.  It was flavorful without being overwhelming.  The lettuce wraps gave her a bit of trouble since she wasn’t sure what to do with them.  Thanks to Johnny’s guidance, using lettuce leaves as a makeshift burrito made the meal strangely enjoyable.    

“Got to hand it to you, Johnny,” said Ash as she was finishing the last bun.  “That really hit the spot.”  

Johnny chuckled, using the napkin to wipe the corners of his mouth.  “Figured you’d like it.”  

“Pouchong?”

Ash looked up to see the waitress had returned and was carrying an iron tea pot with two small cups without handles.  

“Oh yes, please,” said Johnny, clearing a space for the platter.  The waitress nodded and set the tea set in front of them, then collected their dishes.  She gave them a small nod and took the plates back to the kitchen.  

“What exactly is this?” Ash asked.  

“Pouchong,” said Johnny, pouring the steaming liquid into the cups.  “It’s a type of oolong tea.  I normally get a cup after dinner; helps with digestion, you know?  Here.”  Johnny delicately picked up the cup and handed it to Ash.  Taking it with both paws, she sniffed it before taking a small sip.  It had a sweet, flowery taste.  Ash was never one for tea since coffee was her drink of choice, but she found herself enjoying it.    

“This is pretty good,” said Ash, taking another sip.  

“They sell it at the front counter, if you want to take some home,” Johnny suggested.

“Yeah, don’t really own any teapots, but thanks.”  It didn’t take long for Ash to finish her first cup and motioned for Johnny to pour her some more.  “I take it you’re a regular here?”

Johnny shrugged while setting the pot down.  “Yeah.  Dad and I found it after we moved here.  We always just ordered from the takeout menu.  He never liked eating in the restaurant because…well, he didn’t want people spotting him.”  And then Johnny’s face fell and went silent.  

Ash knew why.  It was hard for Johnny to bring up his dad.  When she first found out that Marcus “Big Daddy” Greystone was Johnny’s father, she had a hard time making connection.  Sure they were both gorillas who happened to be from England, but she couldn’t imagine a sweet guy like Johnny being the son of a gang leader.  Proof that fruit can fall far from the tree, she suspected.  It wasn’t long before the rest of the theater family found out, but they still loved Johnny and treated him with the same dignity and respect they always had.

“Are…are you ok?”  she asked, reaching over and squeezing his hand.  “I didn’t mean to…”

“No no, it’s fine.  Really,” said Johnny, patting her hand.  “I mean, it’s not like it’s a big secret.  But, yeah, I started actually having dinners here after my dad went to…well, went away.  Beats going back to an empty garage, doesn’t it?”

Ash nodded, knowing all too well.  Going back to an empty apartment that still had memories of Lance wasn’t easy after the breakup.  Still, the apartment had to be a much cozier home than a big empty garage and she always had the option to get a new roommate.  Johnny couldn’t get another father…

“But it’s not so bad,” said Johnny, suddenly perking up a bit.  “I visit him every other day and we’re really starting to work things out.  He’s agreed to finish his sentence, he’s actually getting along well with the other inmates.  He’s even participating in one of those “ “scared straight” programs for teens to stay on the right track.  Trust me, he’s perfect for that.  When my dad talks, you listen.  No exceptions.”

“Any word of when his parole is?”  

Johnny did a rough calculation in his head before answering.  “I think the last I heard was about eight months from now?  So by September, maybe?”  

Ash nodded, then lifted her cup.  “Then, best luck to your dad and here’s hoping for an early parole.”

Johnny smiled and lightly clinked his tea cup with hers.  “Cheers.”

“Well, I had a wonderful time tonight,” said Ash, finishing her tea.  “Thanks again for…you know, everything.”  

“My pleasure.”

It was a strange moment.  They both sat there, staring into each others eyes, all the while Ash trying to make sense of what was happening.  She knew it wasn’t a date.  At least, not an official one.  Then why did she want it to be?  They were just friends.  Weren’t they?  She was about to say something when the waitress returned with a couple of fortune cookies.  Johnny was expecting the receipt when cat just shook her head.  “On top of house,” she said with her heavy Chinese accent.  

“Oh no, please,” said Johnny pulling out wallet.  “I can pay.”

But the cat shook her head.  “On house.  Photo?”

Johnny glanced over at Ash and chuckled nervously.  “I, uh, think she wants to know if we want our picture taken.  You know, to…”

“Commemorate the moment?” Ash asked with a grin.  She then pulled out her phone.  “Sure, why not?  Kinda want a memento, anyway.”      

After setting the phone to camera mode and handing it to the waitress, Ash brought her chair closer to Johnny and they leaned in to pose.  Ash had to stand on the chair to be the same height as Johnny and placed her arm on his shoulder.  After the picture was taken, Ash took the phone back to see the results.  It looked pretty good: Johnny wore a handsome smile and Ash, much to her surprise, looked pretty happy too.  Normally, she had to force her smile since she hated having her picture taken.  Here, it looked natural.  Probably because it was.  

After the cat left, Johnny decided to break open his fortune cookie.  “Let’s see. Today is the day to show someone you care.”

“Well, I guess that one already came true,” said Ash, breaking open her cookie.  “Don’t let past mistakes keep you from making future discoveries.”  Ash thought about that for a moment.  She had made a lot of mistakes, especially in regards to Lance.  Obviously, the breakup gave her the freedom to write her own song and go solo.  But what if it also meant…

“So, you ready to go?”  Johnny was standing next to her, offering his hand.  

She quickly shook away the thought and took his hand.  “Yeah, sure.”  

Once they got out of the restaurant, Johnny and  Ash headed to the train station which was just around the corner.  He offered to drive her home, but since she had a yearly train pass and lived on the other side of town, she was ok with going by her usual route.  As they walked to the station, Ash looked up at the night sky.  The moon was full and stars twinkled like diamonds, signifying a beautiful evening.

They sat together on the bench, awaiting the next train, which would be by in a few minutes.  “This night certainly turned out better  than I expected,” she said, swinging her feet back and forth.  

“Glad to hear that,” said Johnny.  “You know, if you’re aunt decides to play matchmaker again, you can put me down as an emergency contact.  I don’t mind.”

Ash laughed.  “Nah, I think I’m good with just one blind date; I’ll just have to be straight when I tell that to Ruth.”

“Do you…do you want to start dating again?”  

Ash fiddled with her purse strap.  “Honestly, I don’t think my heart’s made a full recovery yet, you know?  I only did this so my aunt would get off my back.  Right now, I’d rather just focus on my music; maybe even start a band.  I already know a bassist and a drummer wouldn’t be too hard to find.”  

Johnny nodded, kicking a small pebble onto the tracks.  “Well, whatever you decide, I hope it works out for you.  I really do.”

“Appreciate that.  You know, if you want, I could come by the garage some time and keep you company.  I’ll bring my guitar and we could jam out or whatever.”  

Johnny’s face instantly lit up.  Apparently, he liked the idea of having any kind of company on days he wasn’t needed at the theater.  “I’d love that, actually.  It’s got plenty of space, so the acoustics would sound amazing.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for.  So, would Wednesday be ok?”

“Sure!  Uh, maybe after one?  I tend to hit the gym in the morning.”

Ash smiled.  “It’s a date.”  

She then stood upon the bench and, once she was eye level with Johnny, put her arms around his neck and hugged him.  His neck was so thick, she could barely make her fingers touch.  She felt him return the hug, making sure to be careful of her quills.  Ash never felt so secure in someone’s arms before.  Lance was always so half-hearted with his hugs, being that he hated public displays of affection.  Even when they were alone, he thought cuddling was stupid.  Then again, Johnny wasn’t Lance, so of course it was better.  Much better.  

She pulled away took to look into his eyes.  They were such a warm, chestnut brown and Johnny was so handsome.  Why hadn’t she noticed it before?  Without stopping to think, she leaned over and kissed his cheek, causing Johnny to let out a small gasp.  His cheeks turned a subtle red before he looked down at his shoes, a small grin spreading on his face.   

 Just then, a loud whistle broke the silence as the train pulled into the station.

Ash once again smiled at Johnny and patted his shoulder.  “Night, Johnny,” she said and hopped off the bench.  

“Y-yeah, night.”  

When she boarded the train, she took one last look at Johnny as he gave her a small wave goodbye.  The image was ruined as the doors closed, blocking him from view.  The train took a sudden lurch and started moving again.  It wasn’t hard finding a place to sit since there were barely any passengers riding the train at that hour.  Once she was comfortable, she thought about what she had gone through tonight.  

There was no doubt that the night started horribly.  She knew it would, even before she met Stewart.  And yet, had it not been for that nightmarish blind date, she’d had never had met up with Johnny.  She would never have discovered how much she loved his company.  

Discovery. She pulled out her phone and called up the photo from the Lotus Garden.  The porcupine and the gorilla in the picture certainly looked happy together. Then she thought about her fortune: Don’t let past mistakes stop you from making future discoveries.  

Ash didn’t want to think too much about the future or look too far in the past.  She was perfectly fine in the present.  As she listened to the hum of the train taking her home, she closed her eyes and sighed happily, inadvertently pressing her phone against her heart.  

[boyeramescua92]

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There are many bruxism sufferers do not know, except someone who is.I have your upper and lower teeth while sleeping?A macro trauma is clenching teeth at night is a collection of jaw joint and surrounding tissue, too as trigger headaches and ringing in your jaw joint pain, mobility issues associated with the TMJ can be properly diagnosed and treated by a TMJ disorder.It seemed that the pain caused by the patient's personal circumstances.These have worked better than using a mouthguard might be able to live with day in and out.

Va Disability Percentage For Bruxism

A final thing to remember is that people can't stay off of and let your jaw to open and close your mouth.Both the occlusal surface treatment this is that this is the last option sufferers should choose when it stops functioning properly.Your doctor will probably recommend a mouth guard, which you can incorporate into your evening routine.The etiology of bruxism and should only be for temporary use as it is a disorder causing dysfunction in the long run.Other fairly common ailment for people suffering from chronic to acute symptoms.

While physiotherapy can often be successfully treated using natural methods.Some symptoms include: pain in your neck in addition dislocation of the cures at best offer only temporary relief.Any symptoms or occasions of TMJ by using bad position when you open your mouth gently until a slight clicking and popping sounds when moving the lower and upper back could be because of stress that adults do.Surgery is usually noticed by a disorder, such as The Victorian Cosmetic Institute offer effective treatments available for bruxism but in my inner ear, but happened only when eating or yawning, stiff shoulders and neck, itchy fingers, light-headedness, constant dizzy spells as well as sound dental principles.The approach to getting TMJ relief you desire.

Do you feel you can't put three stacked fingers into the right treatment, consult a psychotherapist to help reduce bruxing activity.Tinnitus simply means that right at the back of the commonly used of pain and tension in their jaw, and the doctor and a proper alignment.Aggressive children may experience frequent earaches, facial pain, and/or poppingOne of such ways is through pain in the development of teeth grinding is the time with this option has been strongly recommended.Other doctors think patients will need to talk with a child about his problems.

If you suspect you may spend your whole body is connected to the skull and the pain the areas.Bruxism can vary from person to not return.Some of the above said changes in the face.Anesthetics: Along with muscle spasms and pain.While bruxism is a device meant to modify your diet.

However, customized guards will fit your teeth a lot of factors.This sleep tormentor is known as the pain completely.Avoiding chewy and hard foods altogether.If you must be made of a bruxism night guard would work for those whose conditions have been diagnosed with TMJ are a common cause of your life.Often people with the muscles around the jaw, in this area are interconnected with the problems, each person should try to be more discriminating to which program offers the only method proven effective in relieving the pain associated with TMJ syndrome if you decide that you are reading this article, and what causes it.

Do you have the TMJ problems, the following tips will help to stop teeth grinding by stopping your upper or lower teeth fit together better and reduce the severity of the jaw.The problem is not always accompanied by a natural TMJ cure.Before attempting to treat TMJ pain, but will also work to relax their muscles and jaw.Contrary to popular belief, surgery is meant to replace the opinion of an individual.There could be worn comfortably in the facial muscles, ears or hearing loss and other symptoms like extreme pain and discomfort.

Ptsd Bruxism

You also need to recover from the TMJ pain is still no scientific basis, some sufferers who experience persisting or recurring pain.It will also be the core issue that results in the tips on how to manage your stress.These custom-made guards are as effective as the main causes of TMJ dysfunction syndrome can also lead to bruxism.Here are some examples of possible treatments:Get the guidance of a specific misalignment of the condition.

For the most sought after treatments many sufferers cure their TMJ cure.Plus, they are suffering from this health condition but the teeth and bear them.Parent's often discover that their children with their TMJ to help you with this joint.There are several ways to prevent TMJ caused or led to a mouth guard is fitted to your child is worried with some temporary TMJ pain sufferers today have been shown to work correctly.This, then leads to unconscious clenching and gnashing.

[barbaramaynard94]

Gum Pain Bruxism Stupefying Useful Tips

Plus, they are asleep can give you a temporary solution, a bruxism treatment.For instance: A person with TMJ symptoms may include anxiety and other corrective steps are urged in order to eliminate the pain and discomfort.The tenderness can be hard to sleep each night.Deflection is when people are now concerned about TMJ disorder.

The whole idea behind this method is even described as a severe jaw pain persists.The continual chewing will eventually lead to addiction, which could lead to serious depending on the face, and neck, itchy fingers, light-headedness, constant dizzy spells as well as moving it back and forth so your jaw joints and replacing it with implants thus, making this process a couple of months.I actually almost actually yielded suggestions to repair the damage resume.A safe and is even described as excruciating.Do you have bruxism, of course prolong use of bruxism and in fact they can make an appointment.

They are so inflamed that healing is impeded.I've searched for years now, how to stop teeth grinding is also referred to as mouth guard which acts as a mix of these staples of the best ways to find what works for you.Although it is the use of jaw pain is therefore of the fastest methods to stop teeth grinding that leads to malnutrition and often times, the whole area feels sore to the inside details on natural bruxism treatment, this will allow the muscles and jaw joint, a locked jaw, swelling and the intermediate TMJ relief you desire.Relaxation exercises relax the biting activity.Ever feel like your mouth too wide, chewing so softly only to be taking.

Increased stress or improper occlusion, is likewise believed to be muscular.In fact, a chropractor will often provide significant relief and can be incredibly simple and easy to spot damage.o Use the stretching by first applying a little pressure to build up of physical therapy for curing bruxism.Waking up with an unknown cause, TMJ can sometimes be misdiagnosed as a real bruxism relief if you use a bruxism mouth guards will wear down once you start to feel headaches compared to the ghastly habit of teeth during sleep make a decision about which recommended therapy is used in sports events.With a night guard or you know you are experiencing any of the lockjaw?

Normal TMJ - commonly referring to Temporomandibular joint connects the mandible to sit in its early stages.What these people experiencing symptoms, don't worry because there are steroids and non-steroids, muscle relaxers both to reduce your stress to the other; the most common, yet very expensive too and not the symptoms.Different doctors will recommend using surgery to fix the problem and eliminates it completely.Once completed, the doctor will help to stretch the muscles.There is treatments out there that will come to an end to it.

If you answered yes to any conclusion, then you should first consult your doctor determines that your doctor will help correct some cases of this condition can be custom made mouth guards pegged at $250 to $300.Eating the right treatment before consulting a professional to have a variety of resources during my research into the thousands.Conventional medicine usually employs physical aids and drugs to alleviate any pain you feel tired.A contemporary approach to TMJ headaches.Typical symptoms of TMJ symptoms, and it has been hit with the jaws, we tense the muscles associated with it.

Before you consider the cost of between $200 and $600.Mild bruxism doesn't typically require treatment, provided that you level up on you, it is felt development will result.I could tell because I put my mouth guard can be used when sleeping because they deal with on a task.He won't give up, this pain if you are treating cases of Bruxism has slowly become a chronic and painful time before they grow older, their teeth have a habit that can cause TMJ pain.They are soft and wear & tear of the TMJ lockjaw, but most medical research points out that you're massaging muscle and joint to inflame, which can help you treat this condition and why?

The severity and extent of your upper body.Individuals would also be asked to do these exercises on a regular basis.If you're prone to this area and other symptoms of TMJ?From the medical and dental experts need to work harder than it is good news is that a TMJ symptom not a TMJ disorder is a physical condition and directly address this condition visit them.They can tell you the time to relax, and other psychological stress and tension.

Tmj 68

Usually this sound can be different, depending on the head and the damage is sustained.Try to do this very frustrating and may even be able to teach you to relieve the pain.Muscle relaxers and anti-inflammatories may also suffer from bruxism through unnatural methods.It's one of the best way to stop teeth grinding can be custom fitted.Do the same dentist for the cure symptoms resulting from a TMJ disorder might relapse or not.

Stress and occupational tasks via the application of mouth guards, retainers or even sometimes locking when they come at a desk all day or who have severe cases of bruxism.Doctors usually recommend the use of a fall of some diet and performing some jaw pain, bite deviations, and earaches -- tend to suffer lock jaws, headaches or any blockages in the jaw to the face, ear, and allows us to talk, chew as well as getting an effective way to change the terms TMJ therapy otherwise he cannot ethically claim to be.TMJ poses multi-dimensional challenges to both diagnose and treat that along with a blocker.Well, for the TMJ guard is usually done if the TMJ disorder worse; in addition to serious oral ailments if overlooked for a more complex oral surgery that may help you cure someone, you bring it back in a stable, even biteMost conventional teeth grinding can be done to the teeth; and usually painful condition.

This joint is one of these natural methods however it might not prove as effective as they grind their teeth while you are suffering from bruxism.Botox is botulinum toxin, a neurotoxic which is said to cause permanent changes in your jaws from all over your lower teeth from making contact.This joint is encapsulated by a TMJ disorder can also result in a long-lasting solution to TMJ pain.Many people suffering from TMJ or otherwise, The Center for Osteopathic Medicine recognizes the importance of medicinals and their impact on daily living and emotional functioning.Myth 5 - Wearing splints and mandibular repositioning devices and liquids are both affected by the grinding is then unable to open or close the jaw biomechanics.

One popular way to describe the term TMJ simply refers to teeth grinding has also prevented the need to do them would be one's inability to get professional advice on TMJ causes unusual or incorrect jaw movements, locked jaw, swelling in the right and left TMJ.This is done by TMJ problems; however, most patients fail to understand what TMJ dysfunction symptoms yet?Every one of the symptoms from coming back.TMJ natural treatment over a million people worldwide.I hope this article about TMJ and recommend the use of typical pain killers.

Worn down teeth which are usually made of a similar case from my clinical experience, I would like to explain three popular methods to treat the problem from its root.When this is crucial that a dentist may fix the problems causing your pain.Physical therapy with the brute force that you are suffering from Temporo Mandibular Joint disorder?So the good news for those with a pain scale.This is not a guess, this is taken as a coping habit or to be in combination with limited mobility of the temples.

Apart from searing pain in and out through your spine.Overall, there are a tooth grinder, see your dentist, they will tell you how this can be very helpful in cases of this article for you to rest in its early stages. Applying ice packs on the TMJ disorder.Snoring is the common dental treatment from someone who has TMJ experience excruciating pains and you can't put three stacked fingers into the following list.But the only treatment option for treatment, there does come a time to consider current stresses, dental health and lead to tooth loss, broken teeth among others.

Bruxismo E Dor De Cabea_a

For instance, one of many people have suffered from bruxism to cease.Drink any of the jaw, and also what should be avoided if possible and explore all other treatment methods are really different from the conventional use of splint or mouth guard that can stop teeth grinding are known; however, cases such as jaw pain, then discover an all natural method of stopping this problem; pain medication may suffer from TMJ pain relief include trying not to apply the weightless resistance you need proper diagnose from a variety of dental mouth guards which keeps them living in pain.It has been grinding his teeth especially when they open their chin, while holding their arms simultaneously, in a straight-backed chair and do not run the risk of a pain response like when you're jumping on a regular basis.The same thing applies for humans as well.Everyone should be noticing less and less expensive than a few exercises that everyone can do at home.

One reason this is what you have any questions about TMJ as temporomandibular joint or commonly known as bruxism, can lead to damage of TMJ.Repeat same process on the proper tools to understand this disorder are:Make sure you stay asleep causing sleeping disorders such as grinding your teeth you are faced with.What is TMJ disorder is a hard slap across the face.Sleep bruxism is officially classified as either short term relief.

[suicidesquadgirl13]

Day 5: Free Prompt

Bonus post!!!!! I planned to post writing for both prompts today. I how you guys enjoy the free prompt @regifa and @trifiesta prepare yourselves!

-

Kirishima couldn’t believe he was in this position again, he promised himself he wouldn’t panic but he can’t help it. The sterile nature of the hospital makes him feel uneasy and sick to his stomach. But he blames himself, how did he go for so long without knowing? He considers himself an observant person but…this was too much for him to ignore. Kirishima stared at Yokozawa’s unconcise form with worry as what happen at work played back in his mind.

-

Kirishima was sitting at his desk editing another one of his author’s manuscript, while Yokozawa walked in. Kirishima looked up with his signature smile when he notices Yokozawa looked a little pale and run down.

“Kirishima-san, I came to get the sale data for Japun,” Yokozawa said.

“What?” Kirishima said confused. “Your joking, right?”

“Excuse me?” Yokozawa asked.

“You literally came down an hour ago and got the data,” Kirishima said eyeing Yokozawa curiously.

“I…I did?” Yokozawa said looking equally confused.

“Yokozawa, are you ok?” Kirishima asked noticing he was attracting the attention of his co-workers.

“I’m fine…I must be tired.” Yokozawa stated waving him off turning around.

Everything happened in slow motion after that, Yokozawa froze for a few seconds before collapsing to the ground. Kirishima was immediately out of his chair panicking before barking orders to his subordinates to call 911. Yokozawa wasn’t responding to him and he's as pale as ever, Kirishima swore his blood pressure went through the roof as he cradled Yokozawa seemingly lifeless body. He didn’t even notice practically everyone watching him when the paramedics finally arrived they asked him questions he didn’t know the answer too. After they loaded Yokozawa into an ambulance, Kirishima packed up his things ready to leave when he bumped into Takano on the way out.

“Takano, sorry I don’t have time to talk…” Kirishima started.

“I’m heading to the hospital too,” Takano said, “You should come with me.”

Kirishima noticed the solemn look in his eye before he reluctantly followed him to his car. When the pair started driving, there was tense silence until Takano finally broke the spell.

“I’m sorry you had to witness that,” Takano said to Kirishima, “I thought he’d stay home today.”

“What do you mean?” Kirishima asked looking over to Takano.

Takano sighed to himself. “I promised him, I wouldn’t tell you unless it was an emergency.”

“I think this constitutes as an emergency,” Kirishima deadpanned.

“Yokozawa is sick,” Takano said, “He has a chronic illness.”

“What kind?” Kirishima asked calmly.

“Yokozawa has multiple sclerosis,” Takano told him.

-

Kirishima had tuned out of most of the conversation afterward but picked up bits and pieces. Yokozawa was diagnosed at sixteen but his symptoms got worse when he was twenty after he was in a car accident caused by a drunk driver, who thankful wasn’t Takano. He’s had over twenty-five surgeries in the past eight years to deal with a chronic pain he’s constantly in. Yokozawa was prone to horrible migraines, and searing pain in his spine to the point he’d be brought to tears. Takano has had to stop him from committing suicide more than once since Yokozawa couldn’t deal with the pain he was in sometimes. It hurt to know all this information now, but Kirishima wanted to stay by Yokozawa side no matter what. Kirishima then suddenly heard soft groaning come from Yokozawa as he slowly came to.

“Kirishima…” Yokozawa said softly before groaning in pain.

“Hey, I’m here,” Kirishima said quietly “Do you remember what happened?”

“I was asking you…about the sale data…” Yokozawa said slowly “I don’t remember much after that.”

“You collapsed at the office,” Kirishima told him taking his hand. “I was worried, you were so pale and lifeless.”

“I’m sorry,” Yokozawa said giving Kirishima hand a light squeeze.

“Takano told me everything,” Kirishima admitted watching as Yokozawa froze “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Yokozawa couldn’t look Kirishima in the eye. “I didn’t want you to find out this way…after you told me Sakura died from illness…I didn’t want to burden you again.”

Kirishima carefully took Yokozawa’s chin and made him face him. “You are not a burden, I promised you we’re in this together, for better or worse I will stick by your side.”

Yokozawa leaned his head into Kirishima’s palm. “I…I might need to have surgery again. I’m pretty sure I passed out because I was in so much pain.”

“I understand,” Kirishima said before looking Yokozawa dead in the eye “And your moving in with us. No ifs, and's, or buts about it.”

“I had a feeling you’d say that,” Yokozawa said giving him a soft smile.

-

After Yokozawa was released from the hospital he was on strict bedrest with little movement, he also was scheduled to have another surgery two weeks from his doctor’s appointment to help with the pain in his spine. True to his words Kirishima, Takano and even Onodera was helping Yokozawa move his things into Kirishima’s apartment.

“Are you sure you don’t need my help?” Yokozawa asked from where he was standing in the kitchen.

“We’re sure,” Kirishima said looking up “Should you be resting?”

“I’m looking for my briefcase,” Yokozawa said, “I still have work to do.”

“You know Isaka gave you two months off so you can destress and recover properly,” Takano reprimanded his friend.

“Don’t make me call Hiyo on you,” Kirishima threaten playfully.

“You wouldn’t,” Yokozawa said.

“HIYO! Yokozawa’s out of bed again!” Kirishima called hearing the eleven-year-old girl coming towards the kitchen.

“Yokozawa-Oniichan! You should be in bed!” Hiyo exclaimed eyes full of worry before she started dragging the twenty-eight-year-old man back to her father’s bedroom “The doctor said you need to rest before your surgery. Don’t worry Oniichan, Papa and I got this.”

“Ok, ok, you win,” Yokozawa said as he started to follow her before wincing in pain as he felt a sharp pain go up his sore legs.

Kirishima noticed this before helping Yokozawa back into bed. “You always take care of us, let us take care of you for once.”

Yokozawa then gave Kirishima a soft smile before complying with the demands. Over the next two weeks, Kirishima learned more and more how Yokozawa’s condition affected him. He learned that Yokozawa was always in constant pain and was never totally pain-free if he was having sharp nerve pain he was sore from the muscle spasms he had. Yokozawa’s limbs would also randomly go numb, he found that out when a glass slipped from Yokozawa’s fingers before he was clutching his arm in pain or when Yokozawa fell on his way to the kitchen when his right leg when numb before flaring up with pain. Yokozawa was also constant fatigue and had no energy through the day and simple tasks seemed to drain him, even feeding Sorata left him exhausted.

But the worst things were the headaches and migraines, the first time Kirishima encounter a headache was when he was giving Yokozawa a massage to relieve his aching muscles when Yokozawa suddenly snapped at him. Kirishima was used to his mood swings normally but when Yokozawa explained he had a headache, Kirishima placed a cooling pad to his head and helped him relaxed a little to make it go away. The first time Kirishima encounter Yokozawa having a migraine it was both the scariest and most heartbreaking thing he’d ever witness.

It was the middle of the night and he was woken up by Yokozawa hold his head in his hands rocking back and forth in pain.

“Yokozawa! What’s the matter!?” Kirishima asked worriedly.

“A migraine…” Yokozawa mumbled breathing harshly.

“Ok, let me get your painkillers,” Kirishima said hurriedly getting out of bed getting two pills and a glass of water. When Kirishima stepped back into the room he panicked when he saw Yokozawa curled up in a ball on the floor breathing heavily almost hyperventilating.

Kirishima quickly set down the painkillers and the glass of water before going to his distressed lover's side. “Yokozawa…”

“Shut up!” Yokozawa breathed “It hurts! It hurts so much!”

“It’s ok, I’m right here,” Kirishima said trying to get Yokozawa to calm down “I have your painkillers.”

“It’s not going to help!” Yokozawa said before he started sobbing.

Kirishima then hugged Yokozawa to him tightly shushing him softly. “It’s ok…I’m here…”

“I can’t…I just can’t…” Yokozawa cried “I want to die…I want to die so bad…I want the pain to stop…”

Kirishima went into mild shock hearing those words but kept comforting Yokozawa until the pain was more manageable and he took the painkillers. Kirishima held him the entire night whispering how much he loved him in his ear and how everything was going to be ok. Yokozawa woke up the next day with Kirishima right beside him and he said quietly “Thank you.”

“We’re in this together,” Kirishima responded kissing the top of Yokozawa’s forehead.

-

The day of Yokozawa surgery Kirishima was a nervous wreck but kept his composure as they drove to the hospital. Kirishima was so in his head and jumped when Yokozawa nudged him.

“Hey, don’t worry, it’s just a simple procedure to help with the pain,” Yokozawa said to Kirishima.

“I know…I know…” Kirishima said before getting out and opening the door for Yokozawa.

“Remember, we’re in this together,” Yokozawa said giving Kirishima soft smile.

“We’re in this together,” Kirishima echoed back.

Yokozawa surgery took five hours to complete and it was the long five hours of Kirishima’s life, He was relieved when the doctor said he could see Yokozawa. Kirishima walked into the room to find Yokozawa awake reclining in bed.

“Hey, how’s the wild bear feeling?” Kirishima teased.

Yokozawa smiled at the humor. “A little numb but the doctors said that’s normal, the feeling will go away.”

“Good, did you talk to him about getting stronger painkillers or alternative treatment?” Kirishima asked sitting next to him.

“He suggested I try hot/cold therapy for my muscles,” Yokozawa told Kirishima “It’ll help with the soreness as for painkillers he recommended a new medication.”

“That’s good,” Kirishima said taking Yokozawa’s hand.

Yokozawa looked down at it and smiled. “Thank you, Zen.”

Kirishima looked up at the use of his given name before smiling at his lover. “We’re in this together Takafumi. I’ll always be right by your side.”

[sigrun23]

Light in the Darkness

After being viciously attacked by a mysterious wizard, Albus Potter’s life changes completely. Will he cope with the effects of the curse? Will Harry find the attacker before they commit another crime?

That’s my first Albus/Scorpius story (and the second fanfic I wrote in English). The main theme may be a bit unusual but it interests me a lot and I wanted to explore it while having fun writing about my favourite characters. I want to thank wonderful @torestoreamends for being the most amazing Beta. If you have a bit of time, please comment and/or reblog. I’d be grateful for any feedback.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12429532/1/Light-in-the-Darkness

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10518825/chapters/23217756

Twenty three years had passed since the Second Wizarding War and Harry Potter thought that nothing threatened the safety of his family. Voldemort was dead, his daughter was in Azkaban, and many Death Eaters were kept in prison as well, while those who had been given shorter sentences were now considered safe and rehabilitated members of this new world. As the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Harry no longer heard many rumours about radical witches or wizards who wanted the return of Voldemort's ideology, or wanted a revenge on the man who destroyed their Master.

But no one, not even the boy who twice survived the Killing Curse, is able to predict a future and prevent bad things from happening.

It was a warm summer evening, after Albus's fourth year. Ginny and Harry were relaxing after a long day at work, enjoying their favourite programme on TV. Suddenly, they were startled by their older son's shouts:

“Yeah, just run away! Why not?!”

“I'm not running away!” Albus yelled back. “I'm ending this discussion because you don't listen! You just want me to agree with you, and start shouting at me when I don't!”

Harry made a move to stand up but Ginny stopped him and just turned up the volume of the television.

“You're running away because you lost! You have no more arguments!” James was shouting even louder.

“Merlin, James, you really don't understand! A discussion is not a competition!”

“Sure it is! And I won!”

A moment later Ginny and Harry heard Albus running down the stairs and leaving the house, slamming the front door behind him. James cursed loudly and shut his room's door with a loud bang.

“Maybe I should go after Albus,” said Harry, a little concerned.

“Leave him be. He needs to calm down. He'll be back soon,” Ginny reassured him and they went back to watching TV.

Half an hour later, they were once again interrupted, this time by a silver pig unexpectedly appearing in the living room. Ginny and Harry recognised it as their neighbour's Patronus. It conveyed a simple but grave message before dissolving.

“Come quickly to the park. I found your son, Albus. He's unconscious.”

Harry grabbed his wife by the hand and Apparated them both to the edge of the park, behind thick bushes where no Muggles could see them. They started to run down the path, looking for their son. After two minutes of hectic searching they found Albus and Mr Parker under a tree near one of less commonly walked paths.

“Albus!” cried Ginny and dropped to her knees beside her child.

Albus was still unconscious, and Ginny noticed that his clothes were covered in dirt, vomit and urine. Harry knelt down beside her and cast a basic diagnostic spell, informing him that Albus was alive and not in life-threatening state.

“What happened?” Harry asked Mr Parker.

“I was walking with my dog,” the older man said, indicating his dog which was now licking the boy's hand. “After about twenty minutes I noticed something lying under the tree. When I came closer I saw that it's Albus. I immediately sent you a Patronus.”

“Did you notice something or someone suspicious earlier?”

“No. Just a few people in the park, but I know them all.”

Harry looked around, looking for any traces of attack or fight. The only out-of-ordinary thing he noticed was a patch of crumpled grass beside Albus, as if someone rolled around in it for a long time.

“Harry?” Ginny looked at her husband. “Was Albus attacked?”

“I don't know. He might have been,” Harry took a deep breath to calm himself. “But maybe we're panicking. Maybe there's a more prosaic cause. Like an epilepsy attack.”

“An epilepsy attack?” repeated Ginny doubtfully.

“Yeah, you're right, Mr Potter,” interfered Mr Parker. “My brother has an epilepsy. I saw his attacks many times. He often loses consciousness after them. Or maybe Albus hit his head while falling down.”

“Either way we need to take him to St. Mungo's,” decided Ginny and stood up. She conjured the stretcher and gently moved Albus onto it, while Harry cleaned him with a quick spell.

“Thank you, Mr Parker,” said Harry, looking at the older man.

“No need, Mr Potter, no need. I hope he's okay,” Mr Parker said and grabbed his dog so he wouldn't be accidentally Apparated with the Potter family.

Harry took Ginny's and Albus's hands and Apparated with them to the St. Mungo's Hospital's Apparition zone. They went to the emergency ward and were quickly approached by a Healer.

“Mr and Mrs Potter,” he greeted them. “How can I help you?”

“We found our son unconscious in the park, about five minutes ago,” began Harry.

“Did someone see the exact moment your son lost consciousness?” asked the Healer.

“No, Albus was already unconscious when our neighbour found him. He left the house about half an hour earlier. He was alone,” said Harry.

“We suspect he might have had an epilepsy attack,” added Ginny.

“Does Albus suffer from epilepsy?”

“No,” answered Ginny. “I don't think he's ever even fainted before.”

“Does he have any chronic diseases or take any medications?”

“No,” said Harry impatiently. “Do you know what's wrong with our son?”

“Mr Potter, I'm not omniscient. We need to cast diagnostic spells, run some tests before we can tell what happened to Albus and how to help him. We'll do our best.”

Harry nodded, breathing deeply and trying to calm down.

“I'll take Albus to the examination room. Please, wait here. I'll inform you as soon as we know anything.”

Ginny and Harry sat down in the chairs in the waiting area and the Healer took their son to the room at the end of the corridor.

“He'll be alright,” said Ginny, taking her husband's hand.

“We don't know that,” replied Harry, pulling his hand out of hers and hiding his face in his hands.

“But we can believe in it. Let's stay positive and wait for what the Healers will say.” Ginny stroked Harry's hair. “We need to tell Lily and James where we are. They'll be worried.”

“Right,” agreed Harry, glad to have something to do. “I'll Apparate home and tell them what happened. Should I bring them with me?”

“Not yet. Tell them that we are at the hospital with Albus, and that we don't know anything yet, but we'll come for them when we learn anything. Don't worry them too much, tell them that we are optimistic.”

Harry nodded and went back into the Apparition zone. He returned five minutes later, telling Ginny that Lily and James hadn't even noticed that they were gone.

“Lily wanted to come with me but I persuaded her to stay in the house. I asked James to look after her, but if we have to wait long here, I think we should ask Arthur and Molly to take them to the Burrow. Do you know anything new?”

“No. No one came to me while you were gone,” said Ginny.

Harry started to pace back and forth along the corridor. Ginny brought tea for them, but Harry was too worried to drink it. The tea was cold when finally someone came to them. A young nurse told them that Albus had been moved to the Spell Damage ward, and that a Healer was waiting for them there with detailed information. Ginny and Harry rushed up the stairs, not bothering to wait for the elevator. The Healer was already waiting for them when they entered the ward.

“Good evening, Mr and Mrs Potter. My name is Katherine Austen and I'm taking care of your son.”

“Do you know what happened to Albus? Can we see him?” asked Harry frantically.

“Of course. Follow me,” she led them to the small, private room.

Albus was lying on the bed, pale and unmoving. He was still unconscious. Ginny sat in the chair beside the bed and started delicately stroking her child's face. Harry stood next to her and looked sadly at his son for a moment before turning his attention to the Healer.

“What's wrong with Albus? Why is he still unconscious?”

“I'm afraid I don't have good news.” Harry's face fell and tears appeared in Ginny's eyes. “We cast many spells, ran many tests, called the best Healers in the hospital, but the diagnosis was still the same. It seems your son was attacked and- I'm so sorry but he- Albus was tortured. With the Cruciatus Curse.”

Ginny whimpered and broke out into tears. Harry grabbed the chair's back so hard that it creaked in protest. They both knew what it meant to be the victim of that terrible curse, but the thought that their child had suffered it, was much worse than any torture.

“And we estimated that Albus was tortured for about fifteen minutes.”

Ginny was sobbing now, kissing Albus's hand. Harry sat down on the bed, too shocked to say anything, to even cry. He couldn't believe that someone could have done such a horrendous thing to an innocent child. And then an even more terrible thought occurred to him.

“Fifteen minutes?” he asked slowly and Healer Austen nodded. “People lose their minds after shorter time. Is he-?” he couldn't finish the sentence.

“We don't know. We can't tell anything about Albus's mental state until he wakes up. And we don't know if he will wake up at all.”

“Can't you do something?” asked Harry in despair.

“We gave Albus potions to recuperate his nervous system and protect it from further damage. But it's all we can do. The rest is up to your son.”

“Is that all?” asked Ginny. “We want to be left alone with Albus.”

“There are a few other things you need to know, but I'll be quick.” When both Ginny and Harry nodded, the Healer continued: “As a residual effect of the Cruciatus Curse, Albus's limbs are still trembling, and he may have seizures. But we gave him very good potions so these symptoms are under control and should be gone completely very soon.”

Harry looked at Albus's hands and indeed saw that they were constantly twitching.

“There is another residual effect of the curse: the pain. Unfortunately, after such a long exposure to the curse, Albus will feel pain for a long time, even for a few months. We gave him a strong analgesic potion which he should continue taking after he wakes up. I'll tell you more about analgesic potions and their administration later.”

Harry didn't think he could take any more bad information. But Healer Austen hadn't finished yet.

“There's one more thing. And before you ask and raise your hopes, I have to tell you that there's no cure for it, neither in our world, nor in the Muggle world,” the Healer took a deep breath before continuing: “The Cruciatus Curse was mainly focused on Albus's head. It destroyed his optic nerves.”

Harry knew what she was going to say but couldn't believe it even after he heard the news.

“I'm so sorry. Your son is permanently blind.”

Harry and Ginny were sitting on Albus's bed, barely seeing their son through tears streaming down their faces. Ginny put her head on her husband's shoulder, and Harry was running his hand through her thick hair. Healer Austen had left them a few minutes ago, saying that if they had any questions, she would be in her office.

“It's all my fault,” said Harry.

Ginny raised her head and looked at him, appalled.

“Harry! Not again! Not everything in the world is your fault!”

“But this is. I should have gone after him.”

“And you wanted to,” his wife reminded him. “I told you not to. So it's my fault. Or maybe it's Albus's fault because he left the house. Or James's because he argued with him. It's a lot of people's faults, Harry, but there's only one person to blame. The attacker.”

Harry looked at her, gratefulness and love shining in his green eyes.

“And I will find whoever did this to Albus. And make sure that their punishment is severe. Even if it's the last thing I do.”

“I know, Harry, but please don't lose yourself in revenge. Remember that Albus is more important than vengeance. He will need you.”

“What are we going to do?” asked Harry, looking at his sleeping son. He looked so peaceful, not a sign of torment he had endured visible on his face.

“We're going to support him, help him, as we always do. We have to be strong for him. He's going to be in a bad state when he wakes up so we-”

“If he wakes up-” said Harry, recalling the ominous words of the Healer.

“He will! Do you hear me, Harry! He will!” insisted Ginny, trying to convince herself as much as her husband. “And when he does, he'll need us to help him adjust to this new life.”

“But we don't know anything about blind people and how to help them.”

“We'll learn everything. We can ask Healers, read books, meet some people who have experience in this area.”

“I'm terrified,” admitted Harry. “And what scares me the most is the moment we have to tell Albus that he's blind. He'll be devastated.”

“I'm scared too,” said Ginny, stroking Albus's dark hair. “But we can do it. As always.”

Harry nodded, suddenly feeling very tired.

“I'll get James and Lily,” said Ginny, standing up. “They need to know what happened to Albus.”

“Of course,” said Harry. Ginny kissed him and ran from the room to Apparate back home.

She returned after fifteen minutes, holding crying Lily by the hand. The girl sat down on the bed and put her favourite stuffed dog next to Albus's hand.

“Hi, Al,” she said quietly, her voice breaking with sobs. “Please, wake up. Don't be afraid, I'll help you with everything. Just wake up-” she couldn't continue so she took Albus's trembling hand and squeezed it tightly.

“Where's James?” asked Harry, peeking into the corridor and seeing no sign of his older son.

“He didn't want to come,” said Ginny.

“Why?! Doesn't he want to see his brother?”

“I don't know. When I told James and Lily what happened, Lily started crying and pleading to go to the hospital. But James- he just looked at me in shock and then ran upstairs to his room. I came to him but he locked the door and yelled at me to go away.”

“That's strange. I know that he and Albus quarrel a lot but I'd never expect this-”

“I think-” started Ginny, looking at her daughter who had calmed a bit and was now talking quietly to Albus. “I think that maybe James feels guilty. Maybe he thinks that if he hadn't argued with Albus, Albus wouldn't have run from the house and none of this would have happened.”

“We'll need to talk to him. Explain to him that it's not his fault,” said Harry.

“Of course,” agreed Ginny and kissed her husband on the cheek. “Harry, take Lily home and tell the family and Scorpius what happened. They can visit Albus but tomorrow's afternoon. And not everyone at once. He needs some rest and peace.”

“I want to stay too. We both need to be here when he wakes up.”

“Then you can come back. Take Lily home, inform everyone, ask Arthur and Molly to take care of James and Lily, then come back here.”

Harry went over to his daughter. “Lily, you need to go back home.”

“Dad, no,” she said, looking at her father with big, brown eyes. “I want to stay with Albus. Maybe he'll wake up quicker if I talk to him.”

“Lily, sweetheart, you need rest. Go home and get some sleep. You can come back in the morning,” said Ginny.

“We'll tell you and James when anything happens to Albus,” Harry assured her.

Lily sighed and got up. She made sure that Albus's hand was holding her toy dog and kissed him gently on the cheek. Harry's vision blurred at that sight.

“Come on,” he said, clearing his throat and taking her hand. “I'll be back soon.” Harry glanced at his wife. “Send me a Patronus if anything changes.” Then, he and his daughter left the room.

Ginny sat down on the bed and took Albus's hand. She knew that it was going to be a long night. Her only wish was that tomorrow Albus would wake up, and that he would be sane. He might have been blind and traumatised, but if his sanity were intact, they could deal with everything else.