#i saw the dead eyes of every adult i passed and i said “ ill never grow up

[potentiallyangstyrandomthoughts]

I always knew it was never going to be worth it.

[robininthelabyrinth]

What if nmy, jgy and lxc can hear each other thought after they became brother?

ao3

1

Lan Xichen was dreaming.

He dreamt that he was walking along a road, dust on his feet, a small pack on his back, and bruises on his face from where he’d fallen; it felt as if everyone was looking at him, gawking at him, every one of them acting as though they knew everything about him just by looking at him and he hated them –

Do not succumb to rage, Lan Xichen thought, the familiar rule popping into his mind at once.

Rage isn’t the problem, some part of his mind thought back at him. The problem is – why do you care what they think? They’re always going to think something.

They were judging him. How dare they judge him? He’d made something of himself, made himself smart and tricky and capable, but no one cared about that, they judged him, they sneered at him –

Sneering for no reason is prohibited.

Oh for – he just said that they were sneering for a reason.

He did not! The whole point of what he said was that they were sneering because they were unfairly judging him, Lan Xichen argued, and was momentarily amused at himself for arguing with himself in a dream. He would have to write down this dream in the morning and see if he could explore whatever internal strife within him was the cause. And that they weren’t worthy of judging him.

I thought ‘Arrogance is forbidden’?

Are you quoting Lan sect rules at me?

Excuse you both, he was trying to think here!

I’d say brooding rather than thinking.

Lan Xichen agreed with that. It really was mostly brooding, brooding on all the wrongs that had been done to him and paranoia against the whole world. Brooding and walking, walking and brooding –

Like a chicken.

He was not like a chicken. What the fuck. Who the fuck compared lusting for revenge to chickens?

I’m just saying, if you’re going to be brooding, you may as well have some eggs –

Lan Xichen woke up laughing. He still wasn’t sure what the meaning of the dream was, but he did meander down to Caiyi town in order to have some eggs.

He passed it off as a craving.

2

Lan Xichen knew from the first sight of the jingshi how this dream would go.

He would be walking, slowly and gravely, knowing already what he would find: the sight of Wangji kneeling in front of his mother’s house. Only six years old, too young to understand, and yet faced with such terrible loss.

He would go up to him and take him by the shoulder, seeking to comfort him, and he would turn and that would be when Lan Xichen would see his face – dead eyes vacant, blood spilling from his mouth, thirty-three whip marks tearing his back apart and yet that did not seem to be the greatest blow…

The dream never changed.

And so Lan Xichen walked.

He walked, slowly and gravely, and he saw little Wangji, and he –

He’s like a little figurine!

Lan Xichen paused. It was true, of course; he’d had that thought a dozen times before when thinking of his younger brother in his youth. Just not usually in this dream.

One of the expensive ones, his bizarre train of thought continued, utterly nonsensical. The ones you can only get in the shops in the city, all pudgy-faced and red-cheeked with eyes half the size of their face. I always thought those were dreadfully unrealistic.

Perhaps a little.

They’re scary is what they are, another part of his brain thought. Can we get to the part of the dream with all the blood instead?

Seriously?

At least he’s an adult when that happens.

Fair enough.

Wait, hold up, go back, since when am I scared of dolls? I’m not scared of dolls.

Neither was Lan Xichen.

Not dolls. Creepy unliving mannikins in the shape of dolls that are almost but not quite human, that move in stuttering motion that is almost but not quite right, that smile and look at you when they shouldn’t be able to move...

Huh. Apparently I am scared of dolls, the first part of his mind thought, bemused, and Lan Xichen agreed. He’d never known about that particular phobia of his before before, but now that he thought about it, it sounded pretty awful.

He really hoped such dolls wasn’t going to be making in appearance in this dream. It was bad enough as it was.

He sighed, and lifted his foot to continue walking.

Couldn’t you just not go up to him?

What?

That’s a good point. If you already know you’re dreaming, there’s no point in just walking through it.

But…Lan Xichen always went. It’s his brother!

Maybe it’s a creepy doll. Can you really tell the difference?

Wangji was not a creepy doll. How did they get on the subject of creepy dolls, anyway?

No idea. But it’s definitely about as stupid as chickens when it comes to stupid dream thoughts.

Great. Now Lan Wangji – sitting there in all his Lan white – has transmogrified into a chicken, plump with white feathers.

Lan Xichen hoped his subconscious was happy now.

No, this is great actually. No killing livestock within the Cloud Recesses, right?

What?

If he’s a chicken, he’s immune from –

Lan Xichen woke up out of sheer frustration.

(Still better than the usual dream, he supposed.)

3

He was walking through a forest, big loping steps that ate up the ground almost like a run. There were so many things to do, and never enough time to do it in – everything was always a rush, and only the dead had time to sleep.

He was walking through a forest, and the moon was big and bright above his head, shining a dull red in the night sky, a killing moon that boded ill. He could feel the pressure of it on his shoulders like a weight, like an extra presence that never left him; it was both friend and foe, loved and hated, for it would show him the way and rob him of it at the same time.

He was walking through a forest, and he wondered to himself why his dreams recently always featured so much fucking walking.

Oh, no, now you’ve ruined the mood, some part of Lan Xichen’s brain complained, and it might actually be him, come to think of it. I was enjoying that. We were going so fast, it was almost like running.

It wasn’t anything like running.

How did you manage to stop the dream, anyway? Some other part of him thought, sounding almost wistful. You barely got five steps into it before you were making unwarranted comments.

Lucid dreaming.

Was it the moon that gave it away? I’ve never seen it hang so low or so threatening.

It’s not a moon, it’s a metaphor.

All dreams are metaphors, really, Lan Xichen protested, but he was snickering. But also, hold up, look up a second – is it just me, or doesn’t it feel like the moon looking at us?

The moon doesn’t have eyes, the smart voice said immediately. It doesn’t have eyes, so it can’t be – okay, never mind, the moon is definitely looking at us. Also, it’s angry about it.

That was because it wasn’t a moon. He really wasn’t sure what was so hard to grasp about this.

The moon is growling at us! That’s pretty hard to grasp!

If this dream is lucid, can it be changed? Lan Xichen asked, trying to force his dream self to move or dodge or something without success. The moon was getting larger in a threatening sort of way that suggested that it was coming closer. Rapidly. A change would be good right now, really –

I don’t want to be eaten by a moon! I don’t want to be eaten by a fucking moon!

Stop saying it’s a fucking moon already! It’s not a moon! It’s just Baxia!

Lan Xichen opened his eyes and sat ramrod-straight up in bed in a single movement.

“Oh, no,” he said.

4

They met in Qinghe, which had the virtue of being Nie Mingjue’s sole domain in a way Gusu wasn’t yet, for Lan Xichen, and which Lanling was likely never to be for Jin Guangyao.

“All right,” Jin Guangyao declared, stalking in through the doors looking more upset than Lan Xichen had ever seen him. “Which one of you was responsible for the chicken comment?!”

Nie Mingjue coughed.

“I knew it!”

“I wasted a great deal of time on dream analysis after that,” Lan Xichen said, because apparently they were going to be discussing this rather serious issue  affecting both himself and his two sworn brothers in the stupidest way possible and he was oddly all right with that. “I even consulted Uncle.”

Nie Mingjue coughed again, except this time it sounded less embarrassed and more like he was (badly) trying to hide laughter.

Even Jin Guangyao stopped scowling and started having to fight a smile. “Really?” he asked. “You told – about the chickens?”

“He thought it suggested a desire to settle down,” Lan Xichen confessed.

“The man wants grand-nephews,” Nie Mingjue said dryly. “You could dream of anything and he’d interpret it as wanting to settle down. Speaking of settling down, would you both like to do so? There’s calming tea.”

Qinghe had a very specific brand of tea they meant when they referred to ‘calming tea’, imported from the west and south for its reputed use in subduing even the most vicious temper, and it was most definitely not made of flowers. However, as mild intoxicants went, it didn’t have quite the same crippling effect on Lan Xichen as liquor, and he was happy to accept a cup.

“So,” Lan Xichen said after a while. “We’ve been sharing dreams.”

“It certainly appears that way,” Nie Mingjue agreed.

“How do we make it stop?” Jin Guangyao wanted to know.

“I don’t know how it started,” Lan Xichen said. “Much less how to make it stop. Unless this is familiar to either of you…?”

They both shook their heads.

“Could it have had something to do with the sworn brother ceremony?” Jin Guangyao suggested.

“Improbable,” Nie Mingjue said.

“There have been plenty of sworn brotherhoods throughout history,” Lan Xichen agreed. “Someone would have mentioned dream-sharing if it were a side effect, if only because it would be so useful.”

“Dream-sharing?” Nie Mingjue said, frowning. “That’s your problem?”

“It’s useful, but intrusive,” Jin Guangyao said. He was frowning, which he rarely did in public – or even in front of Nie Mingjue these days. The revelation had clearly shaken him deeply. “Dreams can’t be controlled. What if one of us started dreaming about, I don’t know, killing each other?”

“We would agree in advance not to take offense,” Lan Xichen assured him. “As you say, dreams cannot be controlled –”

“I don’t mind the dreams,” Nie Mingjue put in. “It’s hearing your thoughts that’s getting to me.”

They both turn to look at him.

“What?” he asked. “Oh, that hasn’t started for you two yet? Something to look forward to, because it’s a pain.”

5

They ultimately concluded that it was a curse.

A curse gone wrong, of course, but it had the markings of one, and after some research they were even able to narrow down to which one it must have been at the start.

“Why did it go so wrong?” Lan Xichen wondered, looking at the historical records they’d dug up in Qinghe’s library. “Whoever it was surely wasn’t planning on us having this sort of connection.”

“Baxia deflected it, I think,” Nie Mingjue said, and Jin Guangyao and Lan Xichen shared unnerved looks.

It was one thing to know that your sworn brother had a spiritual weapon to which his soul was tied and which he sometimes spoke of as if it were a person; it was yet another to feel that bond, the foreign energy that seeped into his skull at all times, to know that his lucid dreams were due to his persistent awareness of that extra being, to be able to sense the personality that was Baxia lingering on him like a ghost. Or a guai, more accurately.

“It must have happened during or very soon after we swore our oath,” Nie Mingjue continued, oblivious as always to their disquiet. “Our qi was in parallel at that time, binding us together, and she would have been able to spread the attack between us all.”

“The ultimate goal of something like this is to drive someone mad – specifically you, da-ge, since it seems to be hitting you first and hardest." Lan Xichen said, grimacing. And given the Nie sect’s infamous tendency towards qi deviations, they might have thought they could get away with it without anyone finding out…how utterly vile. “Whoever did it must have a great deal of hatred.”

“Or not a lot to lose,” Jin Guangyao said. His hands were gripped tightly behind his back, thumbs digging into his wrists. He seemed to be thinking the word vile, vile, vile on repeat – possibly he was agreeing? Lan Xichen couldn’t quite tell; the curse was affecting him a little more slowly than his two sworn brothers. “Desperate people do desperate things.”

Nie Mingjue looked up with a frown. “Meng Yao, what do –” he started to say, then frowned, having clearly been sidetracked. “You think it’s an insult when I call you that?”

Jin Guangyao, equally distracted, stared at him. “You mean it as a compliment?”

“I don’t exactly like your father,” Nie Mingjue pointed out, sounding a bit puzzled – which, in fairness, he had never been anything but extremely obvious about his disdain for Jin Guangshan. “Why would I think adding his name to yours is a good thing? I’d rather honor the side of your blood that gave you that brain, since it isn’t the Jin sect.”

Jin Guangyao looked flattered – or, no, he didn’t look anything, but Lan Xichen was getting that distinct impression from him nevertheless. It seemed he’d reached the sensing-feelings stage: Nie Mingjue felt a little embarrassed at the reaction, and they were both feeling warmer towards each other.

Maybe they should postpone curing this thing, Lan Xichen thought briefly. If it could help them repair –

“Absolutely not,” both of his sworn brothers said together.

“We’re fixing this at once,” Nie Mingjue insisted, glaring at Lan Xichen.

“Immediately,” Jin Guangyao agreed.

Lan Xichen made a gesture of surrender. “I already have some ideas on how to cure the problem,” he said. “I won’t drag my feet, I promise.”

“Good,” Jin Guangyao said. “I would kill to get rid of this.”

“Speaking of that,” Nie Mingjue said, and he looked like he was starting to get angry, “let’s go back to that discussion of desperate people and how you were thinking about how to kill me –”

6

Lan Xichen had always respected Nie Mingjue – as a man, as a leader, as a friend – but his respect had recently reached new heights when he realized exactly how much the man wanted to murder just about other every sect leader out there, and yet didn’t.

Baxia’s unstinting support for this idea didn’t exactly help.

Jin Guangyao – who Lan Xichen was discovering to be far more vicious than his pleasant smile might have suggested – found Nie Mingjue’s grudge-bearing pettiness to be absolutely hilarious.

What about that one? he asked gleefully. Do we want to kill him?

yesevilkilldestroy, Baxia murmured. doitnow.

Please do not murder Sect Leader Lu, Lan Xichen said. He didn’t think Nie Mingjue actually would, but he felt the need to put his views out there.

I don’t know, Nie Mingjue said thoughtfully. He tried to flirt with me once.

That’s not a crime –

I was ten.

killevildestroy

I’m with da-ge on this one, Jin Guangyao chimed in. Just murder them all. I can provide an alibi.

He could provide six, in fact, each one of them smoothly unrolling like crisp paper in their mutual mind-space – they’d figured out a way to get some privacy – and Nie Mingjue huffed a mental laugh even as Lan Xichen sighed.

It would just figure that his two sworn brothers liked each other much more now that they had access to each other’s secret vicious thoughts – thoughts Nie Mingjue would never act on, given his principles, to the point that Jin Guangyao had once doubted he even had them; thoughts that Jin Guangyao thought would disgust them both, but which Nie Mingjue seemed to rather enjoy as long as Jin Guangyao never took any steps to actually execute them.

What disasters they both were.

“No murder,” Lan Xichen said sternly, futilely trying to conceal the warmth of his affection for them both.

His uncle turned to frown at him. “Xichen?”

Lan Xichen realized he’d spoken aloud by accident and flushed. “Forgive me, Uncle. I was –”

Reciting Lan sect rules!

“– contemplating the obligation not to take lives unnecessarily,” Lan Xichen said, finishing the lie almost smoothly. He’d gotten much better at it ever since the curse began.

Somewhat worse at self-restraint, though, which was a problem because he was apparently the only one of them with a functioning moral compass – Nie Mingjue had principles, which were most emphatically not the same thing (the concept of unearned mercy seemed to puzzle him, as did sympathy for people forced by circumstance), and Jin Guangyao…

Well, he tried.

Sometimes.

Mostly he faked his way through it.

Which was about what Nie Mingjue apparently did most of the time, too, so…

Lan Qiren was giving Lan Xichen a doubtful look, but seemed to accept the explanation and returned to his own meditation. Which was Lan Xichen was supposed to be doing, but Nie Mingjue was dealing with some minor sect leaders in his district with accompanying commentary by Jin Guangyao (supposedly supervising something in Lanling but actually bored out of his mind), and it was just so much more interesting…

You can meditate later, Nie Mingjue thought at him. I appreciate your level-headedness – as do my advisors. I’ve been getting compliments on how well I’m keeping my temper.

Thank A-Yao for that, Lan Xichen said. He’s the sneaky one.

I am, Jin Guangyao said, utterly shameless. And da-ge’s the straightforward one who punched my father in the face.

They all had a collective moment of gleeful bliss at the memory.

Do not damage others, Lan Xichen finally reminded them, albeit reluctantly.

Do not keep company with evil, Nie Mingjue shot back.

Do not act impulsively!

Do not argue with your family, Jin Guangyao interjected. For it does not matter who wins.

…ouch.

He got you there, Nie Mingjue crowed. A-Yao – mark your words.

Yes, yes, Jin Guangyao grumbled. I acknowledge you both as my real family now; will you stop holding the attempted murder thing over my head?

No, never, since it was quite possibly the only way to squeeze any empathy out of his (charmingly) self-absorbed sworn brother.

Anyway, it turned out well in the end, didn’t it? Nie Mingjue added. He thought I hit him because it turned out that he’d instigated the curse to be set against us.

Only you would end up getting a confession out of punching someone, da-ge, Lan Xichen said, amused. It’s positively unfair to the rest of us.

Yeah, da-ge. Leave some luck for the rest of us.

You’re acting sect leader of Lanling in light of your father’s imprisonment, Nie Mingjue reminded Jin Guangyao. How much more luck do you need?

I got that through hard work, thank you.

killevilliesLIES

…I retract the statement and request that Baxia stop glaring at me. Please.

Nie Mingjue snickered.

Lan Xichen laughed.

“A-Huan,” his uncle said. “What on earth is so funny?”

Lying was forbidden, so Lan Xichen was just – not going to explain.

Ever.

[silversatin2105]

Shaman king Fan fic : A Case of mistaken Identity

This fic has two ends to read to the bottom, This covers a scenario between a Fem- Reader deciding their future list of characters featured below.

Yoh Asakura

Hao Asakura

Anna Kyoyama / Asakura

Fem- Reader

Now with that out of the way enjoy the fic

Main scenario: The ribbon of Destiny

You had been friends with Yoh for four months, Ever since you met him on monument hill one fateful night as you were there to attend to the grave of one of your ancestors, It would have been a brief conversation until you said “By the way can you see that samurai” with those words Yoh’s interest was peeked, For the rest of the night Yoh and you talked He explained that he was a shaman and the samurai explained that he was Amidamaru who had became Yoh’s spirit ally when their goals aligned.

You agreed to meet with Yoh on a nightly basis and so you did, It was a month into these evening meet ups that you noticed you were beginning to have feelings for him however you knew about Anna and she knew about you, Anna did not like these meet ups I mean she really didn’t like them as she punished Yoh for meeting up with you like that, Even though he assured her that it wasn’t like that.

Everything came to a head the night after the comet of destiny appeared, Anna caught you confessing your feelings to Manta, The next thing you felt was the sharp sting of a hand across your cheek and the harsh words that were spoken “I forbid you from seeing Yoh ever again, I will let you go with just this but if you show your face here again I will make sure you suffer in your afterlife”

With these harsh words you broke into tears, Nothing could console you and you knew this would be the only outcome for not dampening these feelings, you KNEW that Yoh and Anna were meant to be but stupidly you held up hope that he would reciprocate those feelings, After that you dropped out of the school you all attended and started attending a school in your district, Any spirits you made friends with in your brief moments in Yoh’s life you ignored and for the most part you returned to the world you came from.

Half a month had passed since you had saw Yoh and you were back to your old life, You studied in your free time for your finals and you focused yourself on getting into a good college as you went back to your primary goal of getting a degree in (Insert what you want to do here), It was late as you left cram school and you knew it was your turn to pick up ingredients for the evening meal as you left the store with meat and rice for the dinner you spot a familiar face, It couldn’t be, Yoh ?

Without a moments thought you ran towards the familiar figure “Yoh, are you alright?, Its been awhi” your words were cut short as you dawned on your mistake, The person in front of you did indeed look like your one time crush but he was different, You could not see warmth in his face and as you looked into his face you noticed a deep sadness, Your thoughts trailed on as you had noticed you hadn’t spoke since the hick up you only snapped back when the figure in front of you began to speak.

“Hello miss you seem to have spaced out there, Are you okay?” He enquired as you stepped back from him; you collected your self and did a bow of apology.

“I’m sorry you look a lot like someone I used to know” You managed to speak out, your face turning red as you hid in the folds of your scarf, Something must have amused the familiar stranger as he burst into a mocking laugh, He gripped his sides as he continued to laugh.

“Wow the people in this country really are polite” He remarked whilst regaining his composure, Soon after he stopped laughing he introduced himself as Hao, The future king , this statement you found strange but you put it to the back of your mind as one of his eccentricities.

He asked you to meet him tomorrow night at the same time to which you agreed with caution, You made your way home to which you were scolded for being back late after your apologies and a bath you went to bed with so many questions on your mind.

Throughout the next day you couldn’t focus at school, Were you actually going to meet up with that Hao guy or were you going to go straight home and forget your encounter with him, Every hour that passed you flitted between your going and your not going with one final decision and out of actual curiosity you agreed to meet up with Hao.

Walking thought the darkening streets you found your way back to where just a day ago you met Hao, He waited there for you and offered you a sat by him, After a brief conversation in which you asked him the important questions of why he asked to meet you and what was his intentions he stood up and brushed himself off.

“If you want to know, Walk with me” Hao spoke out whilst walking away from you as you stood to follow and within no time the streets turned into woodland, If you weren’t curious about what he had to offer, This would be the part where you would book it and go home but still your curiosity still had a hold on you.

After walking for what felt like an hour you both came to a clearing that was far from town, Hao stopped walking and turned to face you with an eyebrow raised as he crossed his arms and sat on the floor.

“Before I tell you what I have to say I must find out if I can trust you, What are your intentions with the one called Yoh” He questioned in a tone that you knew if you answered with anything less that the truth would lead to dire consequences.

“I bare Yoh no ill will, I used to have feelings for him but I knew that it was stupid to, we have not spoke since his fiancé told me to back off, I went back to my life and that’s, that” you answered looking Hao dead in the eye, Your heart pounding in fear of what could happen, Its true that he looked like Yoh but you could sense he was a different kind of person, With Yoh you knew he’d never hurt you but with this person you were sure he’d kill you if you put a toe out of line.

“I see, So you have no ties to him at this moment in time” He asked.

“No like I said I have not seen him since Anna scolded me” You replied.

Hao then stood up and paced around looking deep in thought “Usually id kill any outsider that would be threat to my plans, But I find you interesting so ill let you live, Spirit of fire, this girl isn’t to be touched” you wondered what he meant with that, You were about to enquire when before you appeared to be a red demon cloaked in flames offering its hand to Hao.

“Now if you wish to know more, Meet me here tomorrow night If not go back to your life and I assure you we will not meet again” Hao remarked before disappearing from your sight, You found your way back to town and went home to mull things over.

I could not decide on what the reader would decide so to end the argument I will dedicate a page each to 2 sub scenarios 1 in which the reader doesn’t follow Hao and 1 where she does and you can decide which 1 you like the best

Scenario diverge: Plume of white Daisies.

(This scenario covers the reader’s choice in remaining at home and the results of this action)

There was no way you could go with him, Hao may have spared your life but that did not mean you owed him anything, You owed it to yourself to put this whole incident behind you and be content that for a brief time in your life you were a minor character in something important.

The next day at school all who knew you were shocked out of speaking, You walked into class and took your seat as one of your classmates broke the silence.

“why did you cut your hair? (insert name),I thought you were growing it” they asked as you looked at them with a warm smile and replied whilst opening your text book.

“I Just fancied a change of pace”

Years passed and the brief time you spent as part of the shaman world had faded from your mind, You were now an adult and now worked in the field of your dreams and were engaged to your S/O who you met whilst studying for your (insert field) Degree, You no longer lived in your hometown as you had to go where the work was however you returned every summer and winter for a week.

During one of your returns to your hometown you decided to visit the grave of your ancestor, not much had changed since your last visit there other than the fact that the grave looked to be attended to frequently and that Daises had began to grow upon the grave.

As you left the old graveyard, You spot a familiar face in the distance approaching a group of people, You came to recognise the tallest one as your long lost school crush and the other as you presumed right now wife, A little boy clings to the legs of his mother.

With a slight nod to them both you make your way back to your parents home, Petals of daises fill the air as you walk towards the future.

End Scene

Scenario Diverge: Scent of hibiscus

(this covers the readers choice to follow Hao and the results of this action)

The morning after you were given the ultimatum from Hao, whether to remain in your world or follow him into the dangerous world of shamans and spirit fight, your mind was made up, You would follow Hao and learn what you could of the world he lives in.

It was early morning as you checked downstairs to make sure the house was empty, It was as your parents had left for work, You began packing a bag of the things you thought you would need and you wrote letters to your loved ones explaining that you were okay and that you didn’t want to be found.

When night approached you stood where Hao told you to meet him, you held you packed bag on one shoulder as you paced waiting for him hoping it wasn’t a trick, hoping that you didn’t need to go home and awkwardly say that your letters were a prank.

“Ahh you showed up, Right choice” You heard a familiar voice say as you turned to face Hao.

“Yes I did now show me what’s to be done”

You spoke out before you both disappeared into the night.

Years had started to pass, In that time you had trained under the watch of Hao and had become his Itako, You both travelled from place to place brining spirits (usually by force) to his side, You did go home from time to time al though meet ups with your family usually ended in arguments, Your parents accused Hao of derailing your path to success and that you could have been more than you are right now.

You didn’t care, You never regretted your actions not even when Yoh looked at you with suspicion when he saw you at the tournament nor when Anna accosted you intending to tell you the truth, The shock on her face was priceless when you told her you knew and didn’t care.

one night whilst sitting down for a cup of tea, you and Hao spoke of the past and the night you both met, he joked of your embarrassment before giving you a bouquet of aromatic hibiscus that to your shock had a ruby ring on one stem, that moment he got down on his knee and smirked.

“Well will you be my queen?”

“You need not ask my king”

End Scene

[anaveragebibliophile]

Impossible

Carlisle Cullen x OC

Summary: Carlisle and his mate Eloise receive some shocking news that they weren’t necessarily prepared to deal with regarding her health. Instead of seeing what’s right in front of him, Carlisle believes that his wife’s health issues are stemming from other avenues. It isn’t until his wife makes a discovery that he alters his course of action. 

Note: This is a deviation from what I normally post, but I hope that all of you will take the chance and give it a read. :) 

“I can’t even believe this is happening again. And with your wife of all people!” Jacob Black shouted as he walked into the Cullen family’s wide, contemporary kitchen. 

“Jacob, we’ve discussed this. Eloise isn’t like us. She isn’t a vampire, she’s a phoenix. As such, she’s capable of resurrecting the dead, the broken, the ill-equipped parts of us that are theoretically unsalvageable. And as things stand, we all know I’m infertile. Or that I was.” Carlisle explained. “Believe me, I’m just as overwhelmed as you are. Even more so because I’m still struggling to accept the fact that I helped someone--the woman I adore more than anything else on this earth--procreate.”

And it’s not like the couple had been trying either. Quite the opposite actually. Sure, both of them had done ample amounts of research--through legends and the like--to determine whether or not they would need to take precautions before having intercourse. From what little they could find, it appeared that exercising the freedom of caution was the best choice. Not only had pregnancies been reported, multiple births seemed to be a common occurrence. And even though Carlisle was reluctant to put his faith into these infinitesimal references, he still did what any self-respecting man would do: He made sure his strong, confident wife made the final decision about what she wanted to do. At the end of the day, her body would have been doing the brunt of the work had a pregnancy occurred. 

Eloise thought long and hard about this and would even go so far as to test herself. Did she want a child? Yes. Would she be a genuinely good mother? She hoped so. But the ultimate question remained: did she want a child with Carlisle? More than anything else in the world. However, it just didn’t seem like the right time. The pack was going through organizational disputes, the Volturi were still trying to find ways to get her and Alice to join their coven, and Bella and Edward were in the process of adopting a child. There was just too much happening around her for that to work out. Or so she thought at that moment. 

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

About two months later, she started feeling a bit off-kilter. She was suffering from myriad migraine headaches, her stomach always seemed to be queasy, and she was dealing with some intense bouts of insomnia (which she had never experienced as a child or even during her adult life). Her husband was increasingly worried about her. So much so that he would have her in his office every day for testing. At that point, he was looking for a dormant autoimmune disease, cancer, anything that would highlight these symptoms. What he wasn’t looking for was a pregnancy, a fertilized egg within his wife. 

One night, while the rest of the family was out hunting, Eloise and Carlisle were cuddling on the couch, her head in his lap. He was running his long, cool fingers through her hair and down her back, intermittently trying to coax her into eating a small piece of toast that he’d made for her. Yet every attempt didn’t do much. Regardless, he was hoping she would get her appetite back soon because her skin had started to take on a translucent pallor that he despised. 

“Come on, honey, just one bite. That’s all I’m asking for,” Carlisle said, putting the plate in front of her face. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I’m just not hungry. The entire idea of food is revolting. Plus, I don’t really want to repeat what happened a few hours ago.” Carlisle hummed in understanding. While he knew that Eloise was being sincere, he wasn’t pleased that she was still feeling so fatigued and nauseated. 

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

A few hours ago, as he was attending to a broken rib of Seth’s at the reservation, he received a call from Alice. ‘Eloise has been throwing up for the last forty minutes, Carlisle. She didn’t want to worry you,’ she’d started. ‘But you need to get back here now. I’ve been sitting with her, and I’m worried she’s getting dehydrated.’ Heart in his throat, he quickly finished his session with Seth, letting him know that he had an emergency that he needed to attend to. 

After parking the car, he ran into the house, heading straight for his and Eloise’s bedroom. And when he walking into the adjoining bathroom, he was shocked by what he saw: his wife, her cheek smashed against the toilet seat, breathing heavily in order to avoid another onset of nausea. In his peripheral, he saw Alice lightly rubbing Eloise’s back with her left hand and murmuring comforting words to her. 

Instinctively, Carlisle  moved towards his wife and took Alice’s place as the caretaker. “Hi, sweetheart. Alice called and said you weren’t feeling well. Can you tell me what’s been bothering you?” he asked, gently kneading the taut muscles in her lean back. 

Eloise slowly pulled her face away from the toilet bowl and looked at him blearily. “My stomach just isn’t feeling super fantastic at the moment. I don’t know why, but I can’t seem to keep anything down. I haven’t been able to since about two o’clock this afternoon.”

“Well, you haven’t been at your best recently. Do you think that may have something to do with it?”

“Perhaps. But I haven’t had this happen before. Yes, I’ve experienced nausea and some stomach cramping, but it never ended with me vomiting for hours on end.”

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

And that was what still puzzled Carlisle in this moment. Why was this happening to her when nothing was physically wrong? She didn’t have AGID nor was there any evidence of malignant tumor growth. She wasn’t running a fever nor was she displaying any signs of infection. So what could it be? He was determined to find out. 

He lightly ran the pad of his right thumb over Eloise’s cheek. “Sweet girl, I think it’s time that I do an ultrasound on your stomach. Maybe that will give us some answers. What do you say?” 

“Alright. You’ll probably have to carry me though. I haven’t been doing well vertically,” she said, slightly smiling. 

“Your wish is my command.” 

He proceeded to carefully--oh, so carefully--move her head off his lap and onto a pillow (as a replacement). Then, when he was completely erect, he swiftly leaned forward and placed his forearms underneath Eloise’s lumbar vertebrae and upper thighs. Once she was secured in his arms, he gently kissed her cheek and proceeded to move them into his office, the one room in the house both of them have grown to resent. 

Placing her on the exam table, he grazed his hand through her bangs in the hope of soothing the anxiety that was coursing through her. “It’ll be alright. You know I would never hurt you. Never.”

“I know. It’s not that. I just don’t want anything to be wrong. I want to be healthy,” she said, her voice on the verge of breaking. 

“You will be. I’ll make sure of it,” Carlisle responds as he pressed his forehead against hers. 

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

Eloise smiled wanly as her husband went through his check-up regimen: ears, eyes, nose, throat, body temperature, blood pressure, then reflexes. While she may complain every now and then about his overprotectiveness, she really does feel so grateful and lucky to be married to a man whose compassion and kindness are limitless. This man always makes her feel valued, appreciated, and heard, especially apart from the rest of the world. And these are things that will never go unnoticed by her. He will never go unnoticed by her. 

“How are things looking, Doctor Cullen?” she asked. “Am I passing inspection?”

Carlisle lightly laughed at her attempt at a joke. “So far things are looking good. I think we’re about ready to do the abdominal ultrasound and see what things are looking like down there.”

He moved over to his white, sterile metal cart that held the handheld ultrasound. The plan was for Carlisle to put the clear lubricant on her belly, place the ultrasound on it, and then wait for the image to connect to the screen to his right. From there, he’ll see if there are any obstructions or issues. 

“Are you ready, honey?” he asked. “If it’s too cold, just let me know.” 

Eloise held her two thumbs up. “I’m ready. Let’s do it.”

The exam began. For a period of time, the sound and echo waves were all they could hear. Eloise was holding her breath. Carlisle’s face was pinched, his eyes and ears hyper-focused on the task. Until the heartbeat-like echo struck back at them. 

His wife lifted her hand to stop him from continuing with the examination. “What was that?” she queried. 

“I don’t know, darling. I don’t know.” he said. “Let’s try again and see if we get the same feedback.”

He continued his inspection but still received the same results. The heartbeat was unlike any he heard before (besides his wife’s): strong, pure, yet calm in its essence. Before he could ponder any other reasonings behind this strange occurrence, Eloise interrupted him. “Carlisle, we both know that’s a heartbeat. You can question it and try to find other avenues to follow, but you know the truth. And a heartbeat can only mean one thing,” she smiled, so big that her dimples were more pronounced than ever before. “We’re pregnant. My magic enabled us to create a baby.”

He took her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. “We don’t know that.”

“But we do. Carlisle, all the signs have been pretty prevalent these last few weeks. I just never thought to associate them with pregnancy because we agreed we would wait to start trying. I guess the universe had other plans.” 

“Eloise, honey…”

“You know it’s true. I do because I can feel our child. Now, after all this time, he or she has decided to make their presence known. The energy I feel--the positivity and contentment I’m now carrying in this moment--is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.” 

Carlisle looked at her, stunned. If she can feel their child, how could he dispute that? How could he challenge what she (and he) knew to be true in all its unlikelihood? It wasn’t like this was entirely impossible, especially after reading about other couples’ experiences. Couples like them. 

Eloise took his moment of consideration to move his hand to her tummy. “I know it’s hard to come to terms with right now because we weren’t sure how true the reports were, but I think it’s time we start believing in them. Carlisle, you’re going to be a father, and I’m going to be a mother. We’re going to finally have the opportunity to expand our family.” 

Hearing those words made Carlisle outright grin. They had been waiting for this moment for so long that he never believed it would ever actually happen. But now, he has everything he could ever want in the palm of his hand. 

“Well, it would appear that way,” he said, leaning over his wife to give her a heart-stopping kiss. “And I must add that I’m excruciatingly happy. Thank you, sweetheart.” 

[slashingdisneypasta]

Human!Freddy Krueger x Fem!Reader || Oneshot

Title: What The Fuck Now, Freddy!?

Notes:

This is not inherently romantic, at all. Or sexual. Just... Freddy being a bastard, and you are caught in the crosshairs- and are forever linked with him because of it.

I've been listening to Lizzie, a lot lately- and this is inspired by 'What The Fuck Now, Lizzie!?'

Also- I'm thinking this will have a part 2. Due to the ending not being quite enough. Maybe a part for the court proceedings!

Plot: Many will know the story of that terrible day Krueger essentially snapped- killing his wife, Loretta Krueger. She saw the basement, they say, and he didn't like that. Their daughter saw the whole thing and suffered a traumatic response to seeing the sight of her mother, strangled to death, by her father- and forgot the whole thing.

But if she were to remember something, one day.

She may remember something no one knows about that day, aside from Freddy himself.

She may remember, that someone else was there.

She may remember you.

//

Alternatively- you're being blackmailed by Freddy who found out you, another supposedly Plain Jane in Loretta's 'mothers club', is cheating on your husband and calls you up to help deal with the mess he made. Because who else did he have?

Warnings: Okay lemme see, its basically a potluck of triggers. Hm. Murder, swearing, cheating (You, on your husband. Not with Freddy), getting rid of a body, a child gets traumatised (Obviously, Kathy/Maggie), Freddy himself, mention of the basement and all that entails, reader with a very questionable moral compass. Look, I think if you can watch Freddy's Dead, you're good here.

I'm just heading out the door, to go grocery shopping - or, at least, that's the story I tell my husband. When really I don't do the grocery shop until the day after tomorrow. He never notices... - when the phone rings. By very nearly tripping over my feet in my endeavour to catch it before the ringing stops, I manage pick up the phone with very little injury besides an achy, slightly twisted ankle. "Hi! Hi, sorry, I'm here. Hello?"

Pouting, I sit down at the kitchen table; Rubbing my poor ankle to sooth the pain, which would soon diminish anyway. Still- I'm sorry, ankle. I'll try to chill.

When the voice on the other end reveals who it is who's called the house, I lose all need to be pleasant. Damn. I really need to memorise this goddamn number... so I can not answer it. "Whatcha wearin'?"

"Thank god Harrison didn't answer this, you fuck." I deeply roll my eyes. Thank god Har's out. No, this is not my mister, not the man I was going to meet just now- but its bad, enough. In an entirely different way. Its stupid, blackmailing, son of a... hundred maniacs. "What do you want?"

"What a way to answer the phone, Y/N. Gee, seems like every time I we talk, I'm learning how you really aren't in the right place, are you? Cheating on your poor husband, swearing... These aren't really signs of the perfect suburban house wife, is it?" Gritting my teeth, I keep from lashing out. I've learned, if you stay real quiet, Freddy wont have anything to pull from and will get bored quick. "Why so silent, hm?"

"... " Oh, fuck me. I cant help it. "Wondering where you get off judging me on being 'suburban', actually."

"Anywhere I like, thanks."

Oh... oh. Gross?

He doesn't see the disgust tearing my face into two perfect halves right now, but my silence must be enough as he laughs. The sound is directly into the phone, and harsh on my poor eardrums. Ugh... "Oh for gods sake... What are we? Fourteen years old?? Come on- why'd you call?"

"Uhhhh... " Quickly, midway through that drawn out 'um' sound, Freddy's voice transitions, and gets a whole lot darker. Something deep in his chest dislodging, to make it so. Perhaps, his heart. "Well... you might wanna come and see for yourself."

"Uh, I don't think so. I have somewhere to be right now- "

"Oh well you don't, anymore." And its clear what he isn't saying- or else I'll tell Harrison about Carter and set your life on fire. "Tell your boy toy you're takin' a reign check for the day. I think you'll last. In fact... after you come over here, you might be out of the game for a couple a hours at least- maybe days."

Hold on, hold on Freddy what the fuck- "What!?"

"... Believe it or not, I didn't actually mean for that one."

Moron.

~

Nevertheless, no matter how just... off setting, Freddy is, I had to when he asked. I had to jump when he said so.

Because if not, then he would tear my life apart.

So here I am, about to knock on that big red door he lives behind, wondering what I'm walking into. Where's Loretta? Where's Kathy? How long will the visit be? I told Carter I'd be an hour or two late- any longer and I wont see him at all today. Which would absolutely suck.

Just after my knuckles come down on the wood the first time, a hand comes down on my shoulder and I immediately jump out of my skin... then slowly look around.

There's Freddy, a cheeky grin on his face. It does nothing to set my nerves at ease. "Ugh... Why are you out here?"

"We're going to the backyard. Lets go." Taking me by the shoulders, he marches me around the side of the house, instead of through it for some reason, and into the familiar backyard. I've been here numerous times, as Loretta likes to hold our club meetings here - Barbecue's, tea's... that sort of thing. Just to let the kids play together and so the adults can enjoy some adult conversation. Its a nice yard... but depending on what her horrid husband is about to show me, it may not be considered as such anymore... - , but I'm now starting to develop a sick feeling in my stomach.

Honestly- I don't know much about Freddy at all. Yes, I went to school with him, but that doesn't mean much when he was a freaky loner kid the whole time. I remember he killed the class hamster once- that's about the only splash he ever made in the news pool; But it definitely stuck.

Yes, Loretta cleaned up his image a fair bit since getting married, but now he's blackmailing me, and as far as I know I'm now alone with him.

Suspicious of him suddenly, I slip out of his grip with a dirty look flashed his way. Don't touch me.

He just rolls his eyes, leading me around some hedges.

And then everything stops.

Him, me, the air; The air around me, the breeze, the breath in my throat.

There lays Loretta, on the ground. If I was really really naïve, I could imagine she were sleeping... or passed out, at least, due to the way she's sprawled out. No one would lay down like that willingly.

But... her eyes are open.

For a moment I'm tempted to kneel down; Take a closer look. Find out how, myself. Is she bleeding anywhere that I cant see now? Are her lips turning blue? If I moved some short red hair out of the way- would their be marks on her neck yet?

But then I come to my senses...

And freak. The fuck. O u t.

"What, the fuck, did you do!?" I whip around, looking at Freddy now which entirely new eyes. I mean, before I sure wasn't fond- but now I'm filled with something new, looking at him. Something a lot worse, something that makes me want to run. Run, and hide, and stay there.

And all these, even though he hasn't really changed. He still wears a mischievous smirk, stony blue eyes eating up my reactions... like always. But this time its just so so much worse. "Made some dead weight- now you're gonna help me get rid of it. So!" Finally, though its been only a matter of seconds, he turns his gaze off of me and I'm glad. That gaze is far too heavy. "Ideas?"

Only for a moment am I lost for words, struggling to push anything out. "I... I'm sorry??"

His gaze returns to mine, but this time my eyes are hard as his are dark. "Help. Me. Get rid of her. Fucking. Body. Or do you want your dirty laundry aired for the whole community to hear?"

Before I can help myself, I let out a sharp laugh, only succeeding in making Freddy's scowl deeper. "Freddy- this secret's a lot bigger, then mine. Sure, I might get divorced- but you're going to prison!" Does he get that? He's g o i n g to j a i l. Crossing my arms, I try to avoid looking at my ex-friend's body. I cant. "I'm sure as hell not gonna be in there with you, for being an accomplice."

I really cant look at her... I can only focus on Freddy. And that takes a lot of energy- its taking everything in me, in fact. Everything I have. But I have to. If its him or her, there's no choice.

But... then a creepy smile spreads across his face- a vast polarity to the frustrated glower of before. It makes my blood run cold.

"Ohhhh..." He looks almost ferocious, even in his composed state. Like a monster. Like any moment a fanged, inhuman creature is going to burst out of him and I'm going to wake up, and this will have been a nightmare. A horrible nightmare. The kind where that creature haunts me for a long time, after its over. After this over.

He's going to haunt me.

"You must think this is my first time... " My heart turns to ice, mouth hanging a little open... what the fuck have I found myself a part of!? Suddenly all the children's disappearances on the news lately come to the forefront of my brain... "Sweetheart, give a man his dues. I'm a hard working kinda guy... " I watch his gaze flicker to a door - the back door? No... The basement door, - and when a filthy smirk pulls at his mouth, my heart flies up into my throat. God, it makes me feel sick. I want to be violently ill. "My first was my adoptive Dad... pretty sick, huh?"

The fact that he didn't say anything about the basement, makes my imagination go wild. I swallow it down, though.

I just need to get out of here, and never think about this again.

And to do that I need to help Freddy get rid of this goddamn body- and... probably... testify at court... As the panic starts to finally rise up in my, right up to fill my throat, I immediately take in a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Okay... " No time to freak out. Now's the time for action.

Gaze flickering to Loretta again, I try to acclimatise to the sight. I think its a lost cause, though. "How did you get rid of him? Your Dad?"

"No, that's not gonna work. He was a drunk dead beat, and I just had to tell the police some guy's he owed money to came over to the house." Freddy grins happily at the memory, but then just as quickly, scowls at his poor deceased wife's body- that certainly cant fight back. I just tack this onto the long list of reasons I hate him. "Lore's such a goddamn goody goody- we cant do the same thing. You don't think I woulda thought of that??"

"Hey." I snap, hands braced on my hips as I flash a glare his way. "This is not the time to get defensive!"

"Whatever... "

Then- suddenly, something occurs to me. Confused, I look around; A deeply horrified feeling disturbing my stomach. "Hold on... Where's your daughter?" Seeing no sign of her anywhere, I definitely start to panic again- especially when I look to Freddy and just see a pert look in his eyes as he looks back at me, a smile that strikes something horrid inside me. My eyes narrow. "You sick fuck- where the fuck is she!??"

"Under the bed."

"What the fuck does that mean!?" I exclaim, frustrated and freaking out. He did not- he did not! Killing your spouse is one thing, but the kid?? Your own kid??

I don't wait around for him to be cryptic some more, and rush right into the house to look for her. Under the bed, under the bed, under the fucking bed...? Which fucking bed!? Forcing ferocity out of my voice, I carefully call out to Kathy. Hoping to god she answers. I try to sound normal. Maybe a little bit cheerful; Excited.

But my voice wobbles.

"Kathy?? Sweetheart, its Y/N! Are you hiding? I have something for you... " ?? You have something for her, Y/N?? God... now you have to figure out some kind of treat.

You know what? Whatever. We'll figure that out later.

Lets just hope we aren't searching for a corpse. I'd definitely be sick, seeing a child... the way Loretta is...

Shaking my head and clenching my fists, I try to focus on Kathy.

I check under the bed in the guest room because it comes into view first and she isn't there, then her bedroom and she isn't there either... and get a sick feeling as soon as I enter the last bedroom. Freddy's and Loretta's.

God, I've never been in here before but its like a museum peace now. A horrible one. Like if you would walk into the Titanic... or the Borden house.

"Kathy? You in here?" Flicking on the light I kneel down on the ground, and check under the bed.

And something immediately crashes over me, as the sight of her covering her eyes down there. It isn't exactly relief, because this whole situation is still phenomenally fucked up for her, but I am selfishly glad to not have to see her body... crumpled, just like her mother.

"Hey sweetheart," My voice quivers slightly now, but I quickly swallow. No. No. Now, you must be strong Y/N. "Its just me. Your Daddy was looking for you, and couldn't find you! It got him worried!"

"I... I don't wanna see Daddy. He hurt Mommy." Kathy doesn't remove her hands from her face, and stays firmly by the wall- too far away for anyone to grab. My heart sinks.

Slowly straightening up again, I try to take that piece of information in. Turning to the doorway, I see Freddy there. he must have followed me. I didn't even notice. Slowly, and quietly ferociously, I say; "She saw?!"

He has the good sense to look embarrassed, even if it is just to make fun of me. "It was spur of the moment... " He shrugs. "I didn't have time to get a babysitter!"

What a fucking excuse. For gods sake.

I'm definitely dealing with a psycho- if that was even a question before now.

Swiftly, I look down under the bed again, because I'm afraid that if I continue to engage with him- I'll scream, and I'll lose my breath, and I'll scare Kathy even more. She's at the forefront of my mind; That's all I can think about.

But what to do with her after I get her out from under this bed, I don't know. I cant give her back to her father... but I cant hand her over to the police either because that would involve telling them about Loretta, and... Freddy will definitely kill me, for that.

This is a nightmare of a situation.

I'm just opening my mouth to say something - what, I don't know yet, - when she speaks, instead. "Is he there?"

"... Yes." I wont lie to her; That would be treating her with not nearly as much respect as she deserves.

When she takes a deep breath and rubs her eyes, as if just trying to keep herself together, my heart clenches. God... and to think I might not have picks up Freddy's call today. I would have been leaving her with this. For the first time today, I'm morbidly glad I came.

She speaks in that loud, hissy way that kids think is a whisper. "Can he... can you please make him go away?"

Immediately I straighten back up and look to Freddy again, my eyebrows raised halfway up my forehead. Like well? "Get out."

"I don't think you're in a position to make demands here, bi- "

"Do you want Kathy to live down there now!??" I snap, trying not to be scared. Not really feeling scared, actually. Just happy to have a reason to tell him to get the hell away from me.

A deep frown creases his mouth, deeply unhappy about the situation, but steps back. I only hear him step out of the way of the door, but its good enough. Quickly, I get up and close the door - fighting with myself not to slam it, - and lock it.

Then I return to the floor, and see this time Kathy has uncovered her eyes. She looks so small, smaller then she actually is, and she looks like she's shaking. Little red bows and piggy tails in her hair are messy from crawling under the bed. "He's gone, sweetheart. And I locked the door."

She just nods, so I take the silence as a chance to offer my hand to her. "Take my hand, sweetie? Come on out from under the bed. Its cold down there, and no one wants you getting sick." I need to upkeep the family friend bit, I need to sound caring and collected. I need her to trust me.

Her big eyes, not Loretta's colour or Freddy's, look nervous as hell. And she shakes her head.

Taking a deep breath, and I conjure all the sincerity as I can. And mean it. My eyes soften and I try really hard, to resent myself as someone trustworthy- which is hard, seeing as I've never really been that. I mean, I'm cheating on my husband. I told Carter today the same lie I told Harrison when i knew I was going to be late. The only person I think who knows the truth behind all my lies is Freddy. That says something about a person, that the only person who knows them is a psychopath.

But I want to, I need to, be good for this little girl. And there's no time for me turn my life around so it has to start with this. How fucked is that?

"... I promise, I'll take care of you. He wont hurt you."

After a few whole minutes, in which I stay silent because yes she's a child, but she's still thinking, she crawls over and takes my hand, letting me lead her out. Crawling into my lap as I cross my legs under her, she buries her face in my shirt- hiding. "You promise?"

Taking a deep breath, because I've really done it now, I offer my pinky for her to see if she turned her head. I know Freddy's listening to all of this through the wall, but I try not to freak out. "Pinky swear?"

"Pinky swear." She peaks out from my shirt, and curls her little finger around mine. Okay... "Y/N... I'm scared."

"Yeah... Me too, sweetie."

What am I going to do?

[ficforce]

Red Flower of Edo Part 2

Benimaru x Reader SFW

Asakusa was known to be a rough town, proto-nationalists who had no respect or regard for the empire. They were loud and rude and dangerous.

At least in the opinion of everyone outside of Asakusa.

They could be a rough bunch,

But they were people who banded together when needed. They were probably kinder than most, when homes were destroyed they opened their doors to each other, they shared food, they helped rebuild both homes and lives. With news of Y/N spreading through the town people were quick to band together and take the pressure off of Benimaru - they regarded him as their leader but in this circumstance, he needed their support. Konro had taken charge, for now, taking care of the 7th and making sure that Benimaru took at least the minimum amount of care for himself.

Benimaru sat by Y/N’s bedside without a word, day in and day out, minute by minute.

He only left when Konro promised to sit by her and even then it was never near to a full hour away. When Konro entered Benimaru and Y/N’s room in the Guardhouse he paused, Benimaru’s head had drooped down and he was asleep sitting up, the man was exhausted but he wouldn’t quit until she woke up. The doctor was being put up in the room next door and Y/N was connected to a blood drip and fluids - moving her there was ill-advised but Benimaru hadn’t wanted her in a place that stank of disinfectant, he wanted to bring her home and Konro had wanted Benimaru to have some sort of comfort too. The older man was silent on his feet as he approached Y/N’s other side, checking that none of the wires had been disturbed and brushing a stray piece of hair out of the way. It was unusual for her skin to be so cold.

He reached to adjust her blanket and a hand shot out to grab his wrist, the pressure painful until realisation passed through Benimaru and he let go. “Beni, you need to rest. We’ll lay another futon beside her if you’re worried about sleeping too close.”

“If I sleep now I won’t know if she… if she’s okay.” He was terrified of closing his eyes and opening them again to find she was gone. For days she hadn’t so much as twitched her fingers, her eyelids were still and if it wasn’t for the shallow rise and fall of her chest, she could be mistaken as dead.

“And what use will you be to her when she wakes up?”

The Captain hadn’t been thinking of when she woke up, it seemed like too much to hope for. “…I already screwed up, Konro. I should have been more aware, I shouldn’t have been so weak that she had to protect me like that… she… she should have stayed out of it!” He could do nothing but be angry at the situation, blaming himself over and over because he let his guard down. Y/N had his back and he had relied on that too much. “I wish I could find the bastard that did this, I’d pay him back a hundred times over.”

“Don’t you remember?” Konro asked and his expression became a little more concerned, “You killed him before you caught Y/N.”

“I… I couldn’t have. I turned around and caught her… I remember every detail, it was like time was all messed up, it was too fast and too slow all at the same time!”

The other man shook his head, “That’s not what I saw. Y/N was closer to you, she saw the guy before I could even call out to you. You must have sensed the attack because you turned at the exact moment she was slashed…” It had been so quick, there wasn’t a thing anyone could have done. “You turned the guy to ash, Beni… boiled him from the inside out - nothing was left.” He’d never seen him do that before, it was pure rage, not the usual kind that rarely occurred with him but Benimaru hadn’t looked like himself in those seconds before he caught her. “Don’t think about it. I’ll stay here whilst you sleep, if anything happens I’ll wake you up.”

Benimaru put up a fight, argued it and then in his exhausted state and Konro’s knowledge of his friend, he gave in and slept.

A further three days passed before anything changed. Benimaru sat beside her, her hand in his as he drifted in and out of sleep - Konro would watch over them whilst they slept but it was never long enough for Benimaru to properly rest. Her fingers moved against his palm and Benimaru inhaled sharply, watching her face intently as tears built up under her lashes and slipped down her temples, “Y/N… It’s okay, shh,” he brushed the tears aside and called for the doctor. It must have been hurting, “Can you hear me?”

“B-B…ni…” It was a relief to hear her, to know that she could hear him and that she knew he was there. The doctor came in and started checking her over, trying to ask questions that Y/N was simply too injured to answer. Despite finally having her awake, Benimaru had to resign himself to the fact that she had to sleep again, the painkillers sedating her in moments.

She had been aware though and that was enough for now.

— -

“Does it hurt?”

“Do you want some candy?”

“We made your tea!”

“I have good candy!”

The twins crowded around Y/N, their yellow eyes bright and excited, happy to see her awake and wanting her back up to play as soon as possible. For a week since Y/N first regained consciousness, they were kept away, now that they could visit they kept enough space between them so that they wouldn’t knock into her, “How will she drink it laying down, Hika?”

“Um…” Hinata blinked at her sister and then nodded, “Konro!” She got up and slid open the door, “Konro! It’s an emergency!!”

The sound of feet running was heard and in an instance Konro was at the door, his eyes zeroing on Y/N and looking her over, “What’s happened?!”

“We made Y/N tea and we want her to drink it,” Hikage explained as Y/N held in her laughter, she could hardly breathe without it hurting and this wasn’t helping her any.

“Don’t shout out that it’s an emergency unless it is!” Konro scolded them and gave a relieved huff as he approached Y/N, “Can you handle sitting up a little? Don’t force yourself, Y/N.”

She shook her head a little, “It’s a little easier with that wedge… besides, it’s awkward lying down here and holding a conversation.” The woman was heavily bandaged from her hip to just under her breasts, her wound was stitched and where the sword had cut through the skin on her chest was covered up - it had been deep enough to damage muscle but not pierce her organs. Konro helped her rise, keeping her weight in his arms and moving her slowly whilst the girls slid the cushioned wedge beneath her. It was just enough for her to eat and drink without putting pressure on anything. Hinata held the cup to her lips so that she could try it and Hikage was quick to force a sweet in her mouth.

“Try not to choke her…”

“It’s okay, Konro.” Y/N was pleased to see her girls again, “You head back to your work, these two will look after me until Beni gets back.” It had taken three days after she had first woken up to get Benimaru to leave her side. She had convinced him to head out into town and pick up a few bits for her - Personally. He wasn’t to send anyone else and then she had told him to go and take a long bath because he stank. He had tried to argue, he had been downright stubborn about it until she had become too tired to talk about it anymore. “Hey, Konro,” Y/N called to him and the man turned to her as he reached the door, “Can you let someone know that I need a bandage change a little later?” She was sure part of the stitching needed some attention, it felt hot and itched badly.

Konro gave a nod and headed out, not surprised to see Benimaru heading his way, “Let the girls have some time together,” he said and blocked the hallway, “There’s a report I want you to look at - no arguments.”

Benimaru scowled angrily as he was all but dragged away.

— -

Y/N ran her fingers through Benimaru’s hair as he slept beside her, a month had passed and he had finally seemed to relax a little, he was determined to keep a little space between them so that he didn’t hurt her by accident. He was on his side, one arm under his head as a pillow and the other was close enough to her that the tips of his fingers had curled into the material of her clothing. Benimaru always looked so young when he was asleep…

His bad attitude and the responsibilities he had always gave him the air of an older man but twenty-two was barely an adult. They had fought a little before falling asleep, he hadn’t walked off but he had fallen asleep with his back to her, she had fallen asleep too but when she had opened her eyes in the early hours, he was facing her. The smallest glint of light was showing through the papered windows and soon the guardhouse would be filled with the sounds of Hikeshi waking up or coming to bed from their night shift. Carefully, and very slowly, Y/N got herself to her feet to head for the bathroom. Standing still made her feel woozy and her legs trembled from not being used, it was a small piece of independence though and she intended to keep it.

She unwrapped her bandages, it hurt to move so much and it would have been easier to wait for someone but she just wanted things to be normal again, she wanted Benimaru to treat her like before too. He was so careful with her, he was almost submissive and would let her have her way without too much of a fight… it was like his fire had gone out. He felt guilty, she knew that much. He felt like he had failed and he didn’t seem to know how to overcome that - all she wanted was for him to forgive himself. He would have done the same for her, he would have thrown himself into the blade a hundred times over for her…

“Does it hurt?”

Y/N turned her head to look at him, his voice was a little gruff and his sleeping yukata was barely being held on by the belt, he never usually moved around in his sleep so his dishevelled state showed just how much he was bothered. Benimaru stepped toward her, wiping away the tears she didn’t know she had shed and then began helping with the dressings covering the long, angry wound. He had wanted to learn how to take care of her as soon as he was allowed, he wanted to change her dressings, wrap her bandages and see to her every need but she hated it. She hated that he was doing it out of his own feelings of not being good enough instead of love. They always patched each other up before, sometimes they were too rough and were the reason the other got hurt in the first place. “I’m not weak, Benimaru.”

Benimaru secured the new dressing before looking up at her with a blank expression, “I know that.”

He sure as hell wasn’t acting like it, Y/N pushed his hand away from her, “Then stop treating me like glass, stop acting like I’m going to break if you so much as raise your voice to me - I didn’t save your life so that you could spend it being miserable!”

“Then you shouldn’t have saved it!” The Captain snapped back angrily.

She hoped his cheek hurt as much as it hurt her to smack him. The sound of her palm connecting with his face seemed oddly loud in the small room and Y/N could see the glow from his eyes, “Say that again, you coward!” How dare he say that, how dare he throw her sacrifice back in her face when she had only wanted to protect him - the blow would have killed him outright. “How can you be so selfish? How can you think that being dead is better than this? I’m still here, Benimaru, we’re still able to be together but you’re just punishing us both!”

“How am I punishing you?” He didn’t want to fight with her, he didn’t want to get into an argument with her, “I should have been more aware, I should have protected myself, I should h-”

She hit him again, “You should have more faith in me, Beni…” Y/N didn’t bother to bandage herself up again, she would have someone else do it for her later, she redid her clothing and headed back for their room. If she had been in better health then maybe she would have stormed there rather than have to use the wall for support, maybe she would have punched Benimaru in his stupid face to knock some sense into him.

A hand wrapped itself around her wrist to stop her in the hallway, she didn’t need to look to know it was him but then he spoke her name, the voice trembling and quiet, broken almost as he asked her not to go. She heard the thud of his knees as they hit the floor and then felt both his hands around hers as he pressed his forehead against her fingers. Looking down, Y/N felt her heart clench painfully at the sight of him. His shoulders were shaking, his head bowed and she could hear his breathing coming in short gasps as he didn’t even bother to stop his tears from rolling down his cheeks and splashing onto her feet. “Beni…” She whispered and ignored how much it hurt to lower herself to his level, she had to use her free hand to hold onto him for support but once she was kneeling she forced her hand out of his and hugged him close, “Beni.”

His head tucked in under her chin and his hands fisted into her clothes as he cried quietly. Y/N glared at a couple of Hikeshi who had come to investigate and they scurried off quickly, she could tell that Benimaru was exhausted, since she had woken up she could sense how tired he was but he was too damn proud and stubborn. He had never broken down like this, not since Konro got hurt and even then it wasn’t so openly. “I-I could - couldn’t do a thing!” His fists tightened, “You just… you just - so much blood. I just sat there like a useless sack! I didn’t even have the sense to get you help, Y/N! There was so much red…”

She figured it must have been traumatic for him.

Y/N hadn’t thought anything at the time, she just knew she had to save him, she knew that she wouldn’t have been able to live without him ad that she would have a chance to survive - to be here for when he needed her most. When she had been awake enough to take in her surroundings she had noticed the lack of reds in their room. Artwork, trinkets, even the red flowers she liked were missing, the only thing she had seen were his eyes and even they had lost their hue. She must have bled all over him, enough to give him an aversion to the colour on or near her - it would explain why he didn’t want her to wear the colour. “Red is the colour of fire and blood, yes, it can be thought of as the colour that represents danger but that’s not what I want you to remember.” Y/N raised his face to her, cupping his cheeks to force his gaze on her, “I didn’t have much feeling for the colour red until the first time our eyes met, Beni. Red inspires strength, power, determination. It’s the colour of passion and when I look at you - it’s love.”

Benimaru’s teeth clenched together as he tried to stop his lips from trembling, he squeezed his eyes shut to keep the fresh flood of tears from falling. She wrapped her arms around him once more, his arms carefully circling her, mindful of her injuries, and then rested his head on her shoulder. The sun had risen higher now, yellow illuminated the papered windows and he couldn’t help his gaze being captured by the red flowers on the sill, Tsubaki. They were her favourites and when he looked at them he always thought of Y/N.

For Shinmon Benimaru, red represented many things too.

Warmth and Love,

Life.

[tanoraqui]

hey, pls tell us about those 'kidnapping sizhui back to the burial mounds' aus? 'grave dirt baby'? 'speaker for the dead'? put me down as Scared! and! Intrigued!

Alright, so, the au I’ve mentally titled Speaker for the Dead is inspired by this fic series, which I think has great concepts but wildly insufficient follow-through on consequences

edit: er, this is gonna be the first of several parts. At least 3.

You know the Cluster in Steven Universe? Think of the Burial Mounds like that. Hundreds, maybe thousands of restless souls; some shredded, some simply lost; all neglected. Forgotten. Stewing in their own resentful energy and their exponential shared resentful energy, trapped in these abandoned lack-of-real-graves and forged over time into a nearly-single mass of rage and loss and unfinished business.

And then someone came along - well, was bodily dropped from a height - who could match them rage for rage and loss for loss, unfinished bloody business for unfinished bloody business. No one living and perhaps no one dead remembers if he said, “serve me, lend me your power, and I will carry your sentiments into the living world”, or if the Burial Mounds said, “serve us, wreak our fury and sorrow upon the living world, and in turn you will live and wield our power.” Or maybe it was an instant mutual recognition and agreement?

Well, we all know what happened next. And then he came back, their deathly messenger, and brought others, and for a brief while there was...life, inexplicably, in the land of the dead. Stubborn, hopeful life.

Then death swept through once more, from the outside this time, and the Burial Mounds took their diplomat into their embrace - but they’d gotten a taste for having their voice heard, now. The living far and wide had buckled under the force of their weeping rage, shared the burning sorrow of their thousand dead hearts. And there was one living thing left on their grounds sympathetic to their power...

But not because he shared their rage, loss, unfinished business - save in that he was young, and all his life was unfinished before him. And he was starting to understand loss, as the rest of his family died out of sight. Mostly he was sympathetic in the other way: kind and accepting, and even as a child disinclined to forget those abandoned by everyone else.

Well. Disinclined to forget intentionally. Because a three-year-old isn’t designed to be swarmed by the thousand and one voice(s) of the Burial Mounds, howling their rage and loss and determination to be heard. 

A-Yuan would have died that day, if one ghost in particular hadn’t been too fresh to have sunk into the horde. Barely aware of his own death yet, save that it had hurt, the Burial Mounds’ previous master/messenger stepped in between the boy and the onslaught of the dead - and he was a warrior and defender, he always had been. It had served them well when their unfinished business was little more than the bloody spread of death. 

It’s hard to say what exactly happened, then. Suffice to say, once the dest and resentful energy settled - and certainly by the time the cultivator in white arrived - the Burial Mounds had a representative to the living again, their roots sunk deep into his soul, and their representative had a guardian.

-

Lan Xichen was very carefully not wondering where his brother had gotten this child, not wondering at all - why question; there were far too many orphans, these days, and of course Hanguang-jun was noble enough to save one even while wounded to near death himself.

But the fact remained that the boy - A-Yuan, Lan Yuan now - was laced with incredibly persistent resentful energy. The healers had noticed it first and done their best to cleanse it, and the best of the healers of GusuLan was no small effort. At first, it had seemed to work - the darkness stopped wisping from his lungs when he coughed; the cough and fever themselves disappeared. But still the resentful energy remained, a patina of grime on an otherwise pure soul, and even when Lan Xichen himself played Cleansing, it only seemed to fade, not fully dissipate.

A-Yuan grew sick again, feverish and weeping, complained of hurting in the way of a small child too miserable to give clear answers. Lan Xichen stayed with him, playing Cleansing through the night, and by the wee hours of the morning the boy was positively listless - and still, under close inspection, resentful energy clung to him. 

Lan Xichen closed his eyes and sat back to meditate for a moment. He had to collect himself. 

His brother was asleep in the next room over. He’d been asleep since he got back from...somewhere, nearly collapsing off his sword with blood pouring from every whip mark and with a feverish child in his arms. His continued unconsciousness was partly at the order of the healers, partly of his own accord.

Multiple rules forbade superstition and the taking of omens, but Lan Xichen could feel in his heart that if the boy died, Lan Wangji wouldn’t wake. Or if he did, he would be...empty, the way he’d been for years after their mother’s passing. The way he’d been, to be quite honest, until Wei Wuxian walked into the Cloud Recesses.

Meditation didn’t help. Lan Xichen picked his [xiao] again and began the first notes of Cleaning, pouring every ounce of power he had into the music. On the bed, Lan Yuan whimpered weakly.

There was a rattling from his waist, where jade keys to all the wards of Cloud Recesses hung as a badge of office. An instant later, something yanked Liebing from his hands and flung it across the room, and with the same force shoved him backward. For an instant, he saw a figure standing above him, dark-robed and terrible.

Then it was gone, a mirage of the flickering lantern - but on the bed, A-Yuan had moved. Instead of lying flat, he was curled up as though leaning against something, clutching the air near his chest like something invisible had been placed there for him to hold. ...Hovering slightly above the mattress as though on a lap, and tired tears spilled from his eyes; he murmured something too quiet to hear.

(Cool hands picked A-Yuan up and held him; a hand brushed through his hair and a gentle voice said, “Shh, shh, A-Yuan, it’s alright. I’ve got you.” He looked up to see a pretty face and soft, sad smile, clad in robes that were dark and smelled of damp and blood.

“Mama?” he said blearily. It wasn’t right, but it was the closest word he had for how safe and loved and somehow refreshed be felt. He clutched the roughspun robes like they might vanish from his grip.

“Is that what we’re working with?” The man’s smile turned teasing, and he held A-Yuan a little closer. “Sure. I did birth you from my own body.”)

Lan Xichen picked himself up carefully, retrieved Liebing from beside the far wall and eyed the boy on the bed. Some presence watched him back - resentful, to be sure, but not like any spirit he’d ever felt. The tokens representing the wards against resentful energy and restless ghosts had both stopped shivering - because it was quiescent, or because it was already inside?

He needed answers, but at the same time, he very much needed to not have answers, because they might force him to a decision that his brother would never forgive.

-

Lan Yuan has never left the Cloud Recesses since he arrived. This wasn’t entirely abnormal - he’s only just six years old; there are few reasons for a child that young to go beyond the wards. There are excursions for hikes now and than, to introduce the children to nature, but something always interfered - illness, other duties or even punishments. There is the Spring Festival in Caiyi Town for which disciples of all ages are permitted one day free of all responsibility, including the youngest who are taken down with appropriate adult minders. But Lan Yuan always filially elected to use the special dispensation of this holiday to spend all day with Lan Wangji (per Rules 267-270, exceptions to seclusions were allowed for close family, at the Sect Leader’s discretion.) 

In his third year of seclusion, Lan Yuan now age six and bubbling enthusiastically about the tales and treats he expected his friends to bring back from the festival, Lan Wangji had asked why he refused this holiday. Wide-eyed and pious, Lan Yuan had replied, “Because I want to spend time with Father!” 

Sensitive to too-wide eyes, and too aware of his own shortcomings in the area of festivity and excitement, Lan Wangji had pressed to be sure that this was how he wanted to spend his day: sitting quietly inside, playing music, practicing reading stories of Lan Sect history? 

Pressed, Lan Yuan admitted that his Mama said he shouldn’t go outside the boundaries of Cloud Recesses unless his father was with him.

It wasn’t the first time this “Mama” had come up. Lan Yuan’s Mama said it was not just permitted but required that he run shrieking up the path to the jingshi, to greet Lan Wangji by tackling him about the knees with gleeful laughter. Mama said it was okay if he didn’t eat dinner when he was supposed to, Lan Yuan insisted, because the food was “boring anyway.” 

“Mama”, Lan Wangji was very, very sure, knew a song that Lan Wangji had composed at the age of sixteen and only ever played for one other person, because somehow Lan Yuan knew it to hum himself to sleep on restless nights. It was possible that he simply remembered it subconsciously from the times he couldn’t otherwise call to mind - music was like that. But when asked, he took on the overly cute look of an untrained liar rather than the dreadful uncertainty that slipped into his voice when questions arose of any time before the Cloud Recesses.

Lan Yuan had never stepped foot outside the Cloud Recesses since the day he’d been carried in, yet it was Lan Wangji who hesitated on the border, marked on this back hill by nothing more than a thin strip of bricks at the edge of the field.

“Rabbits!” Lan Yuan cried, and tugged him forward by the hand. “There are rabbits!”

“Xichen would not have misled you,” Lan Wangji said, amused.

“I know.” Lan Yuan immediately slowed down contritely, and looked up at him with confusion. “But there are no pets allowed in the Cloud Recesses.”

“The rabbits are not pets,” said Lan Wangji, perhaps more automatically defensive than the occassion called for. “They simply find this meadow enjoyable, as it is filled with clover and, coincidentally, sometimes scraps from the kitchens. Also - ” He gestured to the line of brick several feet behind them - “we are no longer in the Cloud Recesses.”

“Huh.” Lan Yuan cocked his head as though this was something he’d never heard before, rather than something he’d been explicitly told they were going to do, this first day of Lan Wangji’s release from seclusion. “It’s colder, in a nice way. And there’s a lot of - ”

He shut his mouth abruptly, as though someone had hurriedly told him to stop talking.

“Rabbits!” he shouted suddenly, for all appearances remembering thei presence with absolute delight. “Can I play with them, Father?” He pulled on Lan Wangji’s hand again. “Can we play with the rabbits?” 

“You can and you may,” said Lan Wangji, and let his hand go.

Lan Wangji was itching now, burning, to draw his guqin. But of course this permission meant that he had to spend several minutes carefully coaching Lan Yuan on the way to quietly approach a rabbit without causing it alarm, how to offer some of the lettuce they’d brought and how to pick one up and hold it safely. Mitigating his impatience was the unabashed awe on Lan Yuan’s face when the first rabbit let him pet its ears, and his own gratitude at how several of the older rabbits seemed to remember him. (Or possibly they just recognized “man in white sitting quietly with lettuce”, and found it a more attractive invitation than “quietly bouncing six-year-old with lettuce.”)

But, fascinated though he’d been, Lan Yuan quickly lost interest in the rabbits. He pet them absently, but kept looking around as though more interesting things were happening in the clear air. A sudden wind whipped though the meadow, acrid with resentful energy, and he scooted to Lan Wangji’s side.

(”Everyone shut the fuck up!” Mama’s robes and hair lashed as resentful energy rushed out from him, pushing back the clamoring crowd of ghosts. His fists clenched and his eyes flashed red, and the scent of blood rose about him. “You will line up single-file to talk to A-Yuan, if and when I say you get to talk to him! Right now, he’s playing - oh, look, Hanguang-jun’s getting out his guqin, probably to play Inquiry. Go bother him!”)

Lan Wangji couldn’t stand it anymore. He settled Wangji on his lap and set his fingers for the strong opening chords of a general Inquiry, to announce his presence and summon any spirits within range - and paused, and leaned over to ask Lan Yuan, “Is your Mama here, now?”

“Ye - ” Lan Yuan squeezed his lips shut and shook his head. “I mean, no. Who’s Mama?”

“Lan Yuan,” Lan Wangji said sternly.

Lan Yuan shrunk, but didn’t break. 

“Mama’s a secret,” he whispered fiercely. “It’s a rule, like on the wall.”

“I know.” They’d had this conversation before, and Lan Wangji had never pushed beyond this. Even a child was allowed secrets, and Lan Wangji was in forced seclusion, punishment for a crime he didn’t regret but would accept the consequences of nonetheless, in spirit as well as letter (fave for A-Yuan’s near-daily visits - but that was allowed.) Moreover, even from the secluded jingshi, someone might hear his Inquiry and have questions of their own, and- and what if he was wrong? The disappointment would be like death again.

But now he was not just out of his house but beyond the border of the Cloud Recesses for the first time in three years, far from any plausible earshot save the rabbits’  and soaking in sunlight that reminded him of a smile. Now, he thought he’d seen a figure in black for a split second when the cold wind blew. and suddenly the idea of being right and not knowing it was more horrific than any other outcome.

He swallowed a rasping, Please - unseemly, and unjust to burden a child with. He gathered parental authority about himself like a cloak and improvised, “Rabbits do not like secrets. It is rude to keep them in this, their home.” 

Lan Yuan bit his lip, and Lan Wangji gentled his voice. “They will still be secrets away from the rabbits’ meadow, and there will be no consequences for any broken rules.”

“Oh!” Lan Yuan sagged against Lan Wangji’s side and let out a sigh like he was coming home at the end of a month-long night hunt. “Thank you, Hanguang-jun.” He bowed formally, from the seating position, in the direction of the greatest cluster of rabbits, which seemed unconcerned by the gathering resentful energy. “And thank you, rabbits, for your hospitality!” 

He sat up, posture Lan-perfect, and pointed. “Mama’s there, pushing all the other ghosts into line. He says they have to talk one at a time, like in lessons. Are the ghosts in lessons, now? Is Mama a teacher, like Senior Feng and Great-Uncle?”

Lan Wangji, quite honestly, didn’t hear most of his son’s questions. He was too busy playing, perhaps more hesitant than he had ever played Inquiry in his life, Wei Ying?

He held his breath as the small light of a lost soul alighted upon the strings and plucked out, I am Ying Huang.

The breath seemed lost for good.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Miss Ying,” said Lan Yuan. “Um - ” He glanced at Lan Wangji and back at the space above the guqin. “Yes, I- we- Father can tell your husband that it wasn’t his fault - oh wow, you had a baby? What’s its name?” A pause. “That’s pretty! I bet she’ll be pretty, too - you are, so I bet she’ll be pretty just like her mother!”

The chatter, a six-year-old’s mix of earnestness and polite nothings mimicked from adults, reeled him back from that distant, breathless place. Inquiry was still in effect and the spirit continued to play, far more slowly than Lan Yuan responded, Tell Ying Chao it was not his fault, nor the baby’s. 

“A-Yuan,” Lan Wangji managed. “This - Ying Huang. She is not your Mama?”

“No?” Lan Yuan looked utterly baffled. He pointed to somewhere directly ahead of him. “Mama is right there. He’s tall and wears black and has blood all over, sometimes, when he’s angry or sad. Miss Ying is here - ” he pointed at the space on the opposite side of the guqin - “and she’s short and has a greenish dress, and only only has blood on her - oh! Mama’s coming here now...”

Another spirit light solidified as it approached the guqin. This one was brighter and darker at once, strong and resentful - yet not...active in it. It simply was. 

It hovered over the strings for a moment, quivering side to side like the eyes of a shamed person, before alighting and gently plucking out, Hello, Hanguang-jun.

There was no way to know that it was him, and yet... Lan Wangji was breathless again, but this time it felt as though he simply had too much inside him to have room for air.

His fingers moved over the strings without conscious direction. He thought he might be mouthing the name. Wei Ying.

The guqin language of Inquiry was necessarily limited; there were only so many combinations one could make of seven strings. There was only one clear affirmative, yes, and no formal or informal intonations.

Nevertheless, Wei Wuxian managed to express, Yeah. Lan Wangji could imagine him shrugging, giving a rueful smile. Sorry about the whole ‘Mother’ lie. It was his idea.

Understandable. The rhythms of Inquiry called for question and answer. Did you not birth him yourself?

“Mama is laughing,” Lan Yuan announced, as pleased as though he’d organized every part of this himself. He sat up straight, hands in his lap, every inch the proper Lan disciple. “Father, can- may we just talk, now, instead of using Inquiry? It’s much faster, and I can understand it.”

“I’m afraid I cannot understand Wei Ying any other way,” said Lan Wangji, feeling real regret, On the guqin, Wei Wuxian played, We really do need a better way - this is boring. But a way with less soul-binding resentful ghost fuckery.

(Another word that was absolutely not in the vocabulary of Inquiry. Wei Wuxian, as always, managed anyway.)

Three years of parenting practice had one of Lan Wangji’s hands protectively on Lan Yuan’s shoulder, the other darting across Wangji’s strings. What do you mean, soul-binding resentful ghost trouble?

Wei Wuxian’s soul moved back from the strings, fading until it was barely visible. Lan Yuan nodded and shifted until he was sitting beside the guqin, between them.

“Mama says don’t worry, A-Yuan is fine,” he told Lan Wangji seriously. “He says it’s a...” He narrowed his eyes in focus. “‘Severe but non-ma-lig-nant case of resentful energy inculcation and imprinting, with a side order of a little bit of passive possession. By the conjoined spirits of the Burial Mounds.” 

Lan Wangji must been visibly horrified, because Lan Yuan looked worried as he leaned forward and patted his knee. 

“It means I can talk to Mama and other ghosts,” he explained in his own words, “and they can understand living people better when I’m there.” His face twisted skeptically. “Because that’s special?”

“It is very special,” Lan Wangji confirmed, still reeling a little from “passive possession by the conjoined spirits of the Burial Mounds.” But if Wei Wuxian said it was fine, then it must be fine - he would, Lan Wangji was exquisitely sure, mask any danger to himself, but never to A-Yuan.

Still, his gaze flicked to beyond Wei Wuxian, where there was nothing but silence, sunlight, and idle rabbits sleeping, or gnawing down the grass - and, he was sure, still a line of ghosts apparently determined to speak to his son.

Wei Wuxian must have noticed the movement of his eyes, because Lan Yuan began reciting dutifully again: “Mama says that there’s fourteen more spirits here, not counting Ying Huang - who went back to everyone else, now. There’s a draw, he thinks, to A-Yuan, even if they don’t know con-scious-ly that he can talk to them. And, of course, the handsome - oh, the great Hanguang-jun, known master of Inquiry.”

"Will they accept Inquiry with myself,” Lan Wangji asked, “while Lan Yuan continues to play with the rabbits?”

Lan Yuan watched the space where Wei Wuxian was.

“’Lan Zhaaan,’” he repeated, less certainly. “’You’re too - sorry, Mama. ...Yes, Mama.” He turned back to Lan Wangji. “He says you’re a very good dad and he’s so glad you’ve learned so much since the street in Yiling.”

Lan Wangji felt his ears turn red, which was ridiculous. It wasn’t exactly a high bar, to have learned how to treat a child better than to stand in silent bewilderment while the child wailed at one’s feet.

Oh.

“A-Yuan. Do you remember...”

Lan Yuan shook his head, looking down in shame.

“That is fine,” Lan Wangji said firmly. “Do you wish to resume playing with the rabbits?”

Lan Yuan’s entire being seemed to brighten; if he’d been a rabbit himself, his ears would have stood straight in excitement. But he looked guiltily at the line of waiting ghosts.

(They were mostly common people of Gusu, ghostly echoes of clothing in rough cloth and dull colors. Many were bloody, from missing limbs or cut chests or more, others were simply pale and thin. One had the ghost of a cat draped stubbornly around her shoulders. The farther they got from him, the less clear they were to see, but sadness and yearning radiated from all of them, even the ones who scowled or glared, dark energy flicking around their forms like a shadow of the aura Mama could summon.

“Go on, A-Yuan,” said Mama, with one of his warm smiles that felt like home. “Your dad and I will handle the deathly supplicants, but we can’t play with the bunnies nearly as well as you will - but be careful! They might recognize that you’re part radish, and try to eat you!”)

Lan Yuan leapt to his feet with a grin, and bowed quickly to both of them. “I’ll be careful! Thank you, Mama; thank you, Father!” 

“Go slowly,” Lan Wangji called as he darted off. “The rabbits - ”

The rabbits had already scattered in the face of Lan Yuan’s run, save for one particularly lazy old one with a whole leaf of lettuce to itself.

He will learn, Wei Wuxian said on the guqin, with a meaningless trill that Lan Wangji had no trouble translating as a smile. 

[kangaroo-writes-trash]

“My Imaginary Friend”

That old crone at the orphanage told me that my parents abandoned me, that I was cursed. For years, I believed her - it was true. When I was six, my face changed. I was always of pale skin, but for just a few minutes in the mirror that morning, my skin was a deep green. Just like one of my friends. The next morning? I had horns. The exact same horns that grew from my bullies head. It took a few weeks until I realised I could mimic the voice of one of the older children. The twins cut off my ponytail, but it came back when I looked in the mirror. But the mirror wasn’t important - not then, at least. I changed because I wanted to. My parents didn’t abandon me. They died when I was too young to remember them. He told me they loved me more than I could ever know. The man in the closet told me. Sometimes, when it was dark, he’d stand in the corner of the bedroom that the girls my age shared, and he’d speak to me, hidden in the shadows. He should have terrified me, but there was something about him. His voice, soft and calming. No one heard him when he spoke, and they never saw his silhouette. I was glad. When I was eleven, I fell ill with a terrible cold. I couldn’t keep anything I ate down, and every night was filled with fitful attempts to sleep. I thought I was dying. An older boy said I was, so I threw up on him. I thought it was worth it, until the nice caregiver sent me to bed without dinner that night. It was safe underneath my blankets, but lonely. Until it wasn’t, until his voice called my name from below my bed. He had never been that close before. Perhaps that’s why I believed him when he said that I’d be okay. I was so excited to speak to him again that I didn’t even try to lie when he asked if I hated that boy. To be near him again, a friend that I didn’t have to compete over, or worry that would leave. He was my friend, and mine alone. The next thing I remembered was waking up, still safe beneath my blankets and the moon still outside the window. I didn’t feel so tired, and I had such an appetite that I snuck back into the kitchen. I was caught, of course, but they weren’t angry. They were confused. It didn’t take long to realise that I had lost a day. I must’ve needed the sleep, they reasoned. I learned the following morning that the older boy who probably didn’t yet have his hair clean, was adopted whilst I slept. I couldn’t help but be jealous. He was taken in by a famous blacksmith who worked for the guard - he always wanted to be a smith. I didn’t care for the status, or the opportunity to learn. Just having someone care enough to take you. It was my fifteenth birthday, according to the day the orphanage assigned to me, when I first questioned the man’s existence. He was supposed to be my imaginary friend, the one who kept me comfortable and happy. But I knew I was too old for such a thing. He wasn’t imaginary. It was rare, but a few of my dreams as I approached my sixteenth began to take form more reliably, and he was always there. Dreams that involved my friends, or strangers, or anywhere in between, he was one of them. There was this... air around those few that I could lucidly pinpoint, that I just knew was him.  No one wanted to adopt the child that changed every day. I didn’t quite understand the implications those first few weeks, but it became clearer as the years passed. To the parents that came in search for a boy, I was clearly not an option for them, but to the ones wanting a girl? I was unreliable, a risk. No one’s going to adopt the girl that might be a boy tomorrow, nor a child that grows and loses tusks in the span of an hour. No one wanted the cursed child. I was a month away from being officially recognised as an adult and thus being thrown out of the orphanage, when I first met my dead father. I knew I was asleep, I remembered laying down and curling up into a ball and falling into sleep, and I knew beyond a doubt that I was dreaming. He stood there, a human man of... average appearance, really. I knew not the faces of my parents, but once his features set into my memory, something clicked into place. There was no way for me to, but I knew it was my father. Being excited was an understatement, but I couldn’t help but notice that he was nothing like me. Gentle features, long flowing black hair, blue eyes, and no obvious sign of old age. It was an early birthday present from him. My imaginary friend. The gift of knowing the face of my father. And the moment I longed for my mother, she was there too, a second gift. Sharper features belonging to elven blood, a curt explanation of my ears’ tendency to end in points. Blonde hair that felt just as soft as it looked, alongside tasteful red lipstick. When they spoke, their voices met my ears like a lullaby. We sat in a café, and I told them about all the time they missed. Of how I’d wish for them on a shooting star that I didn’t actually see, of the friends I made and lost once a family took them in, and of my body’s need to change. They asked questions of me just like I’d expect parents to - asking of my favourite memories. And I regaled them with stories of the man under the bed, knowing that I’d just be telling him of himself. Just before that living dream came to an end, the woman that was my mother told me of an inheritance that I’d soon receive.  If you’re taken into an orphanage without a name, they give you one, which is how mine came into being. And yet, two days after the orphanage celebrated my birthday (and more importantly to them, my entrance into the real world), there was a parcel left on the doorstep of the orphanage. No one claimed it, for it held a name of someone unknown. But he was in my ear that afternoon, whispering. It was mine. Fianna. The name written on the parcel, and what my parents must have intended for me. My fear of finding a way to live outside of the orphanage was dissuaded by the platinum coins stacked neatly in a fine wooden box. A smaller box held a silver ring, the ring my father must have proposed to mother with. There was an empty journal, clothes that fit surprisingly well without my body adjusting to them, and countless other gifts from beyond. It was lucky break after lucky break. A ship leaving the city just as I longed to see the world, a room all to myself after eighteen years of shared quarters, and my favourite food being brought on the voyage. Platinum speaks volumes, especially when you’re looking for an apartment in the more well-off circles of a city, and I welcomed the change from the arguable-squalor of where I once lived.  He was with me everywhere I went. I feared that once I left the orphanage, he’d be gone, but his voice rung in my ears, and he lived in my dreams each night. And one evening, as I prepared for my first fancy party, he sat in my reflection. It should have scared me. A being of shadow despite the light. He knew I needed help getting ready, but only did so once I asked him for it. He guided me to the parcel I still kept with me, and to one gift I had been getting better at using, despite the fact I didn’t need it. Incredibly expensive makeup. He stood behind me in my reflection, offering guided tips as I prepared, but even after we should have been done, we knew something was missing. Something that would pop - make me stand out. He leaned forward over my reflected shoulder and poked his upper-torso straight through the mirror, meeting me face to face. It was comforting, how he applied the final touches to my eyes before rescinding back, content. I had come into my own after meeting my parents, which was only confirmed by the mirror I looked at myself in. Wearing blonde hair and red lipstick just like mother, blue eyes and pale skin like father, and a designed softness to my otherwise sharp features. Covering me was a fine yellow dress that was worryingly not fine enough considering the circles I intended to mingle with that night, and no jewellery to speak of except for my father’s simple ring. And as I prepared to leave, I couldn’t help but smile brightly at my own reflection in the mirror. He knows what he’s doing. The rainbow eyeliner really pops.

[elexica]

Second Chance Christmas {{ December 26 }}  - Last Chapter -

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27832405/chapters/69446895

"I can promise that I am not giving up on us.”

Full chapter under the read more!

Joey had awoken either alone or to the sounds of needy children almost every morning for the last three years.  At first, waking up without Seto there was a relief—he didn’t have to deal with him or any of the intensity that came with Seto Kaiba.

Eventually, he did miss him in that bleary moment.  It was frustrating that the first few minutes of his morning, every morning, were dedicated to a feeling of loss.

Even that had faded away. For a while now, waking up in his own bed didn’t inspire any thoughts of Seto.  Joey had returned to a state where his mornings were not tarnished by Kaiba’s absence.

But his taste of Christmas with the man—the kind one who had so graciously been a part of his family, not the cold one, who left into the snow without a second thought—was enough to leave Joey tormented.

Waking up alone had never seemed as empty than the morning of that day after Christmas.  He opened his phone screen, tapped the world clock app, and saw that it was already late in the evening in Domino.  Kaiba had no doubt already landed and returned to his life, as if nothing had happened.

The entire good experience melted right off of Kaiba.  Back to his old life, his old ways.  Unchanged, unaffected.

It felt like there was broken glass inside Joey's chest.  It was almost nauseating to feel so disconnected after everything that had happened.

But something had happened. Something had changed, Joey was sure of it.  And things could be different.  

He had gone to sleep so troubled with these conflicting thoughts, but sitting in his quiet bed, watching the snow sprinkle down, he had a new sense of clarity.

When he closed his eyes, he could see their future stretch in front of him, days and weeks and years sprawling across the room.

Joey would never get rid of all of those things that Kaiba had left behind.  He was a sentimental bastard, and at least he knew who he was.  Joey’s eyes hit the wedding photo lingering in his room.  If Joey couldn’t even toss out the extra turtlenecks after three years, Joey was not optimistic he’d ever fully clean out the house and wipe all the traces of Kaiba from the home.

And goddamn it, he knew Kaiba too.

That man wasn’t going to move on either.

So, Joey supposed, they might just keep doing this.  Every time they exchanged the kids, would Kaiba tag along for some ill-advised tryst?  Like an addiction, circling back for another self-destructive hit, knowing nothing could really change.

Or would he avoid Joey like the plague, and instead every few years fall into some act of God that would leave them to another excruciatingly loving experience.

How many times would his life be uprooted by falling back in love with that asshole?  How many longing touches would they scatter across decades?  

Playing enemies while secretly pining for each other?  Damn it, hadn’t they already gotten that out of their system?

Joey was so fucking sick of missing him.

Kaiba was too stubborn, and maybe too hurt, to make the move.  Joey hated the emotional responsibility that fell on his shoulders.

But, Joey wondered, had he actually laid it all on the line?  He never once asked Kaiba not to return to Japan.  He blocked the door, but he didn’t actually say it.  He showed up at the airport, but he didn’t actually say it.

His ex-husband had the emotional intelligence of a brick on a good day.  Joey wasn’t just as bad as Kaiba for not just saying it.  But Joey sat in bed, the cold covers pooling around him, and considered that he could be part of the problem.

And maybe, if he wanted them to be back together, he had to do it.  If he didn’t want to live this way forever—he was in a position to change it.  He wasn’t corporation stock, he wasn’t an asset, something without any control over what Kaiba did.

So Joey got up.  He made himself some coffee.  It was seven in the morning, but he was sitting at the kitchen counter, dated laptop jammed open, on the speakerphone with Serenity before the hour was over.

Everyone always admired Kaiba’s force of will.  A personality that could overcome every adversity, defy reality itself, control space and time.  Master the global marketplace, dominate the NASDAQ, and change the fabric of society.

But Joey’s force of will was something else too.  And he wasn’t going to wait for however many years it took for Kaiba to admit that he wanted to stay there, in their home, raising their children together.

If he had to, he’d drag the bastard straight from Japan.  His dumb husband was just waiting there, getting old and sad in some fancy condo.

And so he spent the entire plane ride to Domino city trying to figure out exactly what it was that he wanted to say to set his stupid, stupid man straight.

. . .

“Mokuba?” Joey hoped it was still the right phone number.  The Kaiba brothers were always updating things, changing software, making their communication methods that much trickier to obtain.  It was a real possibility that this phone number now only went to a stranger.

“Jounouchi!  What’s up?  How are you doing?  The kids are growing up so freakin’ cute!”

Joey was disarmed by how warm Mokuba always was.  And it laid bare just how little he’d really thought through the plan.  “Um, well, I’m in Domino.  I’m here to see…” Joey almost said Kaiba. But it was off-putting to refer to their shared last name.  It never bothered him as a teen, but as an adult it sometimes hit Joey that Mokuba probably didn’t love the traces of language that made it clear that he was the secondary Kaiba when it came to these affairs.  Still, Joey wasn’t sure he was allowed to call him Seto anymore.

“Ah, I see.  Nii-sama just got back yesterday.  Seto didn’t tell me any of the details, but…” Mokuba’s tone shifted.  “Everything okay?”

The question was stingingly sincere.

Joey sighed on the other end of the line.  “Yeah, you know your brother.  I mean.  Look.  I’m in Domino and I guess I just need to see him.  It’s dumb—”

“It’s not dumb,” Mokuba interrupted, sounding more adult than Joey had ever heard.  It was like he really was getting an edict from the esteemed Vice President of Kaiba Corporation.

“Yeah.  Can you get me a badge or whatever to visit his office.  We need to talk and…”

“I see.  He can’t be allowed to dodge it, huh?”

Joey laughed, despite himself.  It was a bit mournful, but it wasn’t totally devoid of life.  “Nope.”

“Yeah, I can hook you up.  I’ll get the pass sent to your phone.”

Joey nodded, even though his phone was conventional, and Mokuba couldn’t see him.  “Thanks.  And congrats on getting married.  From what I’ve heard, she sounds like a keeper.”

Joey could hear the glowing smile on the other end of the phone.  “Yeah, I think so too.”

. . .

The lobby of Kaiba Corp. HQ was mostly unchanged since the last time Joey had seen it, though it looked somewhat creepy in the dark.   It was lightly, tastefully, decorated for the season.  Twinkle lights on some of the pillars, echoing in the dark like suspended lightening bugs.

So close to his goal, Joey stalled.  He paced in the empty cavern of the lobby.  Maybe he shouldn’t bother.  Maybe this whole adventure was some twisted flight of fancy, brought on by watching one holiday film too many.  Did he look too closely at the snowflakes trapped in Kaiba’s eyelashes and see something that wasn’t really there?

In the middle of his troubled, nervous walking, Isono appeared.  Put together and just like Joey had seen him when last trading off the kids.  Sunglasses on—even though it was the dead of night in the deepest part of winter.  Stern and silent, Isono directed him to the elevator.

Isono never had much of a relationship with Joey.  The man had watched him at most major life events outside of his house for the fifteen years preceding the divorce.  Joey realized that his presence was somewhat more comfortable than all of the anonymous faces Joey had passed by in the once-familiar city.

The floor indicator increased quickly as the two men rocketed toward the top floor, where Kaiba could properly brood over the entirety of Domino.

In the stilted silence, they arrived at the top floor, and Isono put his arm out to stop the elevator doors.

“It is good you are here,” Isono said.  Something about his voice sounded reflective, and it gave Joey the confidence he wished he did not need.

The city glowed in the background, pulsing like magma.  Kaiba sat at his broad desk, illuminated by the blue light laptop in front of him and the ethereal glow of the city at his back.   Joey was pissed that when he walked in, Kaiba didn’t bat an eye.  It felt as if Kaiba had set the appointment.

Joey wondered to himself whether Mokuba had messaged him, or inadvertently triggered some alarm in procuring the pass.  Even so, Kaiba was where he was supposed to be, sitting in his dark office, typing away at whatever it was he did all day.

Since the grand entrance did not have the desired effect, Joey proceeded to stomp over to Kaiba’s desk, push down the screen of the laptop, and kiss him.

This succeeded in starling Kaiba, his blue eyes wide in surprise.  Almost too shocked to kiss back.  Almost.  Kaiba still reached a hand across, thumb skimming over Joey’s cheek.

“Y’know why I did that?” Joey asked, breaking the kiss.

Kaiba shook his head, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.  “No, I—what are you doing here?”

Joey propped himself up on Kaiba’s desk, sweatpants-clad butt shifting a stack of papers.

“I kissed you because I wanted to.  And I’m here because I want to be.  And I didn’t buy a return ticket, Kaiba.  Because I want to fly back with you.”

Kaiba opened his mouth to speak, but Joey silenced him with a hand.

“I’m gonna make it really simple for you, cause apparently this is hard for you.” Joey announced.  “Here’s the situation: I broke up with you because you refused to be part of the family in the way that I needed.  You were acting like a bad partner, and I did not deserve that.  But…  You… you proved that you could be a good partner.  So here’s the deal.”

Joey walked forward, completely enveloped by Kaiba’s heated stare.  “I want you.  I want you to be at the house.  I want to raise our kids together.  I want to go to sleep in the same bed with you, I want to wake up in your arms, I want a lot of other things.”

Kaiba wisely kept his mouth shut, opting to watch Joey with soft, sad eyes.  Joey wasn’t going to let it get to him.

“And I think you want that too.  You were happy this week.  A lot.  And this is sappy but I’m gonna lay it out.”

Kaiba gestured with one hand that Joey should continue.  The darkness didn’t leave much for Joey to see, but the way that the glare of the city glinted off of his eyes… it looked a little like water was pooling.  Joey took that to mean that his evaluation was correct, enough—Kaiba did love to correct people.

“I don’t know how many special moments, or special people we get.  And I don’t know how many days I’ll get to look over and see you.  And what a mess you are and how strangely you hide that and… and you know what?!”

Kaiba opened his lips a little, but didn’t have anything to say.  So Joey dismounted from the desk and continued.

“I came here, cause I’m done wasting my time.  You talk so much about your precious time, how busy you are.  But my time is mine, and I’m sick of watching the kids grow up without you. I’m sick of not seeing the magic parts of you, and the genius and the… we fit together, damn it!  We’re both fucked up, we’ve got no idea how to do any of this.  But I want to figure it out with you.”

Joey realized he hadn’t been breathing as he let it out.  He took a breather, trying to collect his thoughts, wiping at his own face.

“So. Yeah.  I have a proposal for you.  Fly with me back to New York.  Let’s try again.  Like, really try.  You actually be part of this—like my partner.  We’re too old for the on-again off-again bullshit.  I don’t want to have to get over you.  And honestly, I’m worried you’ll never get over me.”  Joey shrugged, “You’re not really the moving on kinda guy.”

Finally, Kaiba stood up behind the desk.  His shadow was so imposing, a terrifying mixture of height and darkness.  “So what?  You want me to be on vacation forever?”

Joey hadn’t anticipated that much vitriol in his voice.  He had been pretty proud of his speech.

“No.  But... you are just as free as you want to be.”

Joey wanted to run, felt the fight or flight instinct lighting up in his gut.  But he was finally done retreating.  Joey walked towards the silhouette.

“I’m going to ask you—just once more—do you want to do this?  Not my way, and definitely not your way.  But some new way that we can find together.”

“I am not a man of compromises, Jounouchi.”  Kaiba turned away.

“When you want something, really want something, nothing can stop you.  That’s what I’m counting on.”  

“When have you known me to do anything by halves, Jounouchi?”

“The last year of our marriage.” The answer had been given almost instantaneously, but it hung in the air for a full minute.  “But you’re right, I don’t think that’s really who you are.  So, come back to New York.  And prove it to me.”

Joey took one more step forward.  He could feel Kaiba’s tense breath, they were so close.  “You can be emotionally constipated on your own time.  I’ll go first: I’m sorry for not being more honest and just telling you what was going on.  Now it’s your turn to apologize.”

“What do you want me to apologize for?”  Kaiba demanded.

“You’re the genius.  Whatever you think will be enough to convince me to let you come back to the house so that we can live our lives together.  The way we were meant to.”

“I don’t—”  Kaiba started.

“Do not call my bluff, Kaiba.  You really don’t feel sorry about any of this?”  Joey waved his arms, gesturing at everything.

“… I…” Kaiba looked out at the vast city below, glowing electric with holograms and New Year’s decorations.

“You don’t have to say it.  The best apology is shaping up.  And I know you get it.  I’ve seen you get it.  So please.  Just… was it that bad?  Just being my husband for a few days?”

“No.”  Kaiba refocused, look drilling into Joey.  “I regret allowing you to labor under the assumption that our relationship was not important to me.  That you were not the brightest light in my life.”

Finally, achingly slow and gentle, Kaiba tilted his head down and pressed a kiss to Joey’s forehead.

“I cannot promise that it will never happen again.  But I can promise that I am not giving up on us.”

Fin.

[jusauria]

Hotcattale (basic storyline)

Like every Story we have to start from the beginning of all.

Long time ago. In an AU of undertale there were monsters and humans. Both creatures needed the same kind of food to survive. The soul powers of the monsters scared The humans. The monsters were afraid of the soul energy of the humans. The fear turned into hate and a war began. In this war many lost their lives and both sides capitulated. The monsters were aware of the humans hate and so they moved out of all human villages to start a new life in peace. The only problem for the monsters in the mountains is the lacking source of food. Some of the best guards are hunting animals. The others are going to the cities to get other needed food supplies.

In these awful times of hate and rebuilding the life story of Sans and Papyrus begin. When the little skeleton opened his eyes he saw two taller skeletons in front of him. A huge smile were on their faces. They pick up the little skeleton and tell him: “My child. You made it. Of all the dead children's bodies, you made it to become a skeleton. We are so proud of you.” The surprised child looked around and saw something moving in the ashes. He started to move uncontrollable in the arms of the huge skeleton, only to tell them there was something. The female looking adult stuck her hand in the ashes and got out another little skeleton. The ashes made his bones look black and he sneezed a few times. The adults looked pleased. They grabbed their stuff and went to the forest where all the skeletons live.

Both kids grew up there and learned many new things. Even so they learned that skeletons can’t make kids like other monsters can. They need dead children in the age between 5-10 and have to put soulpower in them. Unfortunately not all kids become skeletons. That’s why the population of skeletons is looked over very careful. The two young skeletons knew they were from now on brothers and so they treated each other like. The smaller one got the name Sans, in the meaning of a calmness of the Ocean and the Sand. While the other one got the name Papyrus, in the meaning for the Power and Kindness from his soul. Sans was always the weaker skeleton of the both. He almost died of an unknown sickness and so his Heal Points (HP) went down to 1.

Papyrus and Sans often went outside to see others of their kind. But they never felt welcomed near them. When both got 15 they moved out. On that day all the skeletons in their villages said to them goodbye and wished them a ‘skeleton’ of luck. The brothers left the villages and walked many days to finally see the mountain they wanted to start a new life. They tardy walked in the entrance and asked other monsters where the king and queen were. On their way they met ,a bit younger as them, Asriel who showed them his parents. The royal family allowed the skelebrothers to live in the Underground. Toriel asked them kindly with a caring voice where they both want to live. Sans said: “I don’t mind any place. My bro should choose. He is the coolest in this stuff” Papyrus looked at the huge map on the walls of the gigantic room and pointed at Snowdin. He yelled: “There! This place should be as calm as Sans and as cool as me. Nyahaha.” Toriel looked at Asgore and both agreed. In snowdin was an old house where nobody lived. So the brother took this opportunity and made it their own.

Many years passed and the brothers grew in knowledge and happiness. While Sans found a job as scientist assistant in the labor from hotland. Papyrus made his hobby of cooking to his job in “Grillby’s”. But Papyrus' dream is to become a part of the royal guards. He wants to go outside and buy food for the monsters who need it. Sans and Papyrus are the only skeletons in the Underground. They always get from the town people rotten or spoiled food to eat and to cook with. They give this to the brothers not because they hate them. Generally because they don’t want to waste food. Even so skeletons can eat all kinds of food without getting sick.

One day the brother's knowledge about human and monster relationships broke apart.

Sans was in his room. All dressed in black and in front of his door was Papyrus in black too. He stared at the door wanting to knock but couldn't make him do it. He broke into tears.

Both had come home from the funeral of Asriel and his best human friend Chara. The brothers, Asriel and the twin sibling Chara and Frisk always have been very close to each other. One day when they were in a restaurant of all kinds Asriel and Chara got poisoned by the golden flower poison. The brothers ate the same dish. But because they are skeletons it had no effect on them. If Frisk had been there too, he would have gotten poisoned like his sister and the prince.

Sans was sitting in his room corner thinking why they couldn’t save them. Why they didn’t notice something was wrong. Papyrus otherwise was thinking how sad Frisk must be. Lost his twin sister and wasn’t able to be at the funeral because he is still ill.

A month later Sans and Papyrus are fine again. Of course they are still sad about the lost, but they need to work to earn money. Else they will lose the house and that’s what both don’t want to happen.

Sans walks nervous around in the labor and Dr. Gaster looks at him and asks kindly: “Sans. Do you think a maschine could produce all kinds of food, with water and the key atoms?” Sans stopped walking. He thinks about all possibilities and replies with yes. Gaster smiles and shows him a room which was always locked up. On the walls were plans for a food making maschine to solve the hunger of the monsters. The sketches and files amaze Sans . The doctor put his hand on his shoulder and whispered to him: “This will be your work from now on. Work on this machine and save the monsters. I will work on the core power machine in the meanwhile.” This is a huge job opportunity for Sans. After work he takes a shortcut to his home door and jumps into Papyrus arms. Both brothers walk inside the house. Walk to the kitchen, make tea and sit down on the table to talk about what happened on this day. They have no secrets from each other and speak open to each other. Papyrus tells Sans that people like the food he makes. The royal guard Undyne wants to teach him more cooking tricks. She was very impressed by his skills. Sans is happy for his brother and lets him talk for a while more until he tells him his news. At the moment Papyrus finished talking he tells him his whole day in detail. What a huge responsibility he has now. Even so he informs him that he will stay at the labor for a while. Papyrus stands up and hugs his brother.

The next day Sans walks to Papyrus and says: “Listen. I know you can stay alone for a while. Please be safe bro. I will be gone for about 2 or 3 months.” Papyrus looks at Sans and replies: “You don’t have to worry at all. The brilliant Papyrus will make sure everything is ok and safe! Be careful of your heavy bones”. With a last hug their paths split.

Stress is for Sans a foreigner word. He has never known stress until he sees the deadline for the machine to work and be ready to use. Sans calculations have to be all correct. Every mistake will take too much time to fix. So he worked fast but meticulous. Skeletons don’t necessari need sleep, so he had only 2 hours of sleep everyday. Gaster looks like a skeleton but isn’t so every night Sans is working alone in the labor. Often he gets scared that something will pop up out of the darkness. But this wasn’t a reason for him to stop working.

Day after day was hard work on his plan but 2 months later he finished the first machine of his kind.

In the 2 months Gaster hired a new assistant named Alphys. She is shy but it isn’t that bad to work with her. Sans invites Gaster for seeing and testing the prototype. Gaster sets up the maschine and pour the special liquid in the maschine. He starts the maschine and walks a few steps away from it. First all looks good but then Sans notices that the machine starts to form some cracks. He yelled at Gaster to walk farther away. But he was too late. A huge explosion is the result and Sans gets smashed to the wall behind him. He hits his head on the wall and his whole body gets covered in a strange hot liquid. He stands up and some of the liquid gets inside of his skull. The pain of the heat, how it burns through his skull and cracks it makes him faint.

When he opens his eyes he sees Papyrus and Alphys talking. He sits up and asks: “How long was I out.” Papyrus' face shows that he was sleeping for longer than 1 day. His brother jumps on his bed and gives him a strong hug. He cries in relief and Alphys goes outside to let both of them have some time for themselves. As soon as Papyrus finished crying himself out, Sans stands up. He sees in a mirror two cracks on each cheek and the almost full healed hole in the back of his skull. They go outside the room and Alphys asks Sans to do some task.

All monster kinds can use magic. Not all the same kind of magic, Skeleton uses bone magic.

She asked him to spawn some bones. Sans focuses and sees the bone in front of his spiritual eye. But at the moment he releases the power he spawns a hotdog which looks more cat-like. A hotcat? Sans tries again to make a bone but all he does is make hotcats. All in the living room are in shock. Sans runs upstairs in his room to do some more tests by himself. Papyrus walked behind him but he couldn’t enter the room in time. The still hurt skeleton tries harder than usual to make a bone but it doesn’t work. Only hotcats. He takes one and bite a piece off. It doesn’t look spoiled or anything. Warm is it too. All a sudden his back skull hole starts to heal up. Only a crack left. But cracks on his cheeks are still there. Sans calmed down and continued to test his other abilities. He still can do shortcuts and the telekinetic stuff. He can’t make bones and he is able to spawn two gaster blasters at the same time. To Sans' surprise the blasters can turn into Skelecats. He opens the door and Papyrus gets scared by the skelecats running out of Sans room. Alphys is already gone and both brothers walk downstairs in the living room to talk. Papyrus tells Sans that Gaster must have died. Not long ago a talking flower appeared after this bad event. Sans tells him that he not being able to make bowns isn’t as bad as he first thought. He can make food for other monsters and make them less starving and that he is more happier to be alive than dust.

A few weeks later Sans and Papyrus start to work together for Grillby and have a nice time. But then Sans got the idea to make his own little restaurant with papyrus. Papyrus agrees. With the help of their friends they build a little eating place which can move around hassle-free. The skeleton brother wants to become a travel food bistro. When they both are about to leave the underground, the royal family give them both a little present. A red scarf for papyrus and Sans gets a book full of jokes, to make them both laugh hard. This is a heartbreaking moment but the two boys know that this isn’t a goodbye forever. They walk away with the little bistro. Sans uses his telekinetic powers to move it around while papyrus is looking at the map where to go first. They decide fast where a good spot is to begin to earn money and a reputation. Sans walks around the small town offering humans and some monsters his hotcats. First they didn’t know what to think about this but soon everyone fell in love with these. It looks like the taste of hotcats varies from person to person. Some say it tastes sweet, some spicy and some salty. It depends on the person's preferences. The two make good money from them. Papyrus buys some food to cook healthy and taste food. Many humans and monsters love the taste of his dishes. The skeleton’s little restaurant becomes downright famous overnight. A few days later they closed the shop for the first time to get a small break. They walk around the town and talk a lot about what to improve and fix. In an alley Papyrus notices the talking flower he saw once in Snowdin and walks to him. The flower monster looks confused and a bit scared. Papyrus sits down in front of him and says in a kindly voice:”Hello little golden flower, why are you here in town? Are you following us?” He gets more confidence and replies to him:”Maybe. But I am here to see if you and the potato are doing fine.” The eye sockets from the huge skeleton become bigger and you can see sparkles in it. He hugs the flower and offers him to go on his shoulder so they can walk together around. The golden flower agrees and introduces himself to them as Flowey. Flowey tells them how he came to life and how confused he was first. Sans notices that the soul of the flower is awful similar to Asriel’s and asks him if he knew him. The bright yellow color from his blooms turns minor darker and he replies with a sad face: “ Yes and no. I somehow have his soul and heard his voice a few times. He told me one day that I am my own person and since then I haven’t heard of him.” Papyrus puts his hand on his head to make him feel a bit more comfortable. Sans starts to think and comes to the conclusion that the flower must be a by-product of the explosion he caused.

The sky went from a light blue to a red, violet color. The brothers arrive at their restaurant. Papyrus makes a movement to flowey to say that he can stay with them as long as he wants to. In Flowey’s face is happiness. Flowey became the mascot of the shop and is the first waiter too.

The next day the shop is booming. Many customers want to eat the special hotcat from Sans. Others some fresh made dishes from Papyrus. A human with brown hair and a yellowish skin comes to Sans and asks for the manager of this shop. He responds that he and his brother are the owner of this all. The human asks kindly if he can work there. Sans walks to Papyrus in the kitchen and asks if they should hire the human. Papyrus goes with Sans to the front and looks at the human diligent. He gasps and says that the human is Frisk. Frisk smiles and says: “Hehe. Long time not see you two. Sans to be honest, what happened to you? Did you fight with a dog and lost? hehe.” Sans explains all and both skeletons decide to hire Frisk in their small business. The not so tall human is already 19 and so he can legal work for them. At the end of the day all 3 monsters and Frisk help to clean the shop and set up a sleep area for Frisk.

They stayed 2 months in the small town and then continued their journey to another town.

After a year Flowey and Frisk discovered the other AUs. They told the skelebrothers about this. Since that day they are known as AU travel Restaurant “Hotcattale”. Which stays in every AU at least 1 week.

The end.

(I know. The story is not good. but it gives a good view about this AU and what makes it unique ^^)

[chapitre7]

Like winter, dreaming of spring

The Untamed [陈情令] | Mo Dao Zu Shi [魔道祖师] fanfiction

Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian (Wangxian)

Canon compliant, 13 years of mourning as a Gusu Lan disciples ghost story

Read on AO3

There is a place in the Cloud Recesses where the junior disciples of Gusu Lan dare not tread.

 Not because it carries any resentful, evil or ill energy. If there is a place in all of the land that would be free of such feelings, that place would be the Cloud Recesses.

 Or that might be just the reason. That in all of the land, in all of the homes of the honorable sects, it is in the Cloud Recesses, a little ways from the Cold Spring, just beside a crystal clear stream, that lies a patch of field, facing the open azure sky, where a presence has made its home.

 Lan Jingyi tried to ignore its existence, looking away when the other disciples whispered among themselves. When they were but small children, still taking their first baby steps to become cultivators, Lan Yuan broke his first rule by walking out of the dorms after dark, taking Jingyi along, for the sake of a story. Not out of any rebellious impulse or any profound desire to discover the world, but pure, unstoppable curiosity. Lan Jingyi tagged along, legs weak and teeth clattering, out of simple, budding friendship.

 It isn’t a terribly hidden place, or even guarded by natural obstacles that cloud perception. At the time, Lan Yuan could clearly see he had arrived at the right place by the moonbeams reflecting on a white frame through the gaps in the tall grass. Lan Jingyi closed his eyes, biting on his lower lip to keep from making any noises. Lan Yuan just looked, unspeaking, soundlessly breathing, until he decided he had seen enough and took Jingyi back. The next day, swallowing his fears, Jingyi asked him what he saw, but Lan Yuan just smiled and said, “The rabbits from the moon.” Affronted but not confrontational, Lan Jingyi frowned in the way six-year-olds frown in practice consternation and let it drop. Just because it was A-Yuan.

 Some disciples claim they’ve seen things in broad daylight, while practicing or studying outside. A glimpse of glowing white, like the bright flare of sunlight peeking through the highest tree leaves, but when they turn, there’s nothing there. Others swear they heard something or other, a humming, or maybe some kind of mumbling. Master Lan Qiren berates them with firm words and fitting punishment for spreading tall tales at the Cloud Recesses.

 Once they move closer to their coming of age, the disciples slowly grow out of the story. There are musical scores to learn, and sword training to attend, and no thought to spare during meditation for ghost stories. Not in the Cloud Recesses, not for budding Gusu Lan cultivators.

 But dreams, those they can’t control. They can’t tell their subconscious that there are more important matters to think about, that the past generation had to recover from a devastating fire and thus it’s their responsibility to study and practice and fight for the sake of those that can’t fight anymore, or who have fought enough. Not even the argument that Hanguang-jun and Zewu-jun are always watching and patiently guiding them towards the noble and righteous path is strong enough to ward away the images of the figure. Sitting in a patch of moonlight, singing or humming or crying or quietly wailing, for whatever reason, in whatever existence that gives it form. When they wake, they’re fearful and train harder, or they’re contemplative and meditate.

 Maybe the figure is a manifestation of one’s fears and reservations. Maybe the story goes around as a form of lesson, too. Maybe it’s a metaphor, or a riddle, or a reference to a poem they’ve yet to pinpoint, so they must study more and find it, make the meaning for themselves.

 There’s word, a story within a story, that a senior once told a junior that told his roommates that no one can name, that it’s the ghost of a cultivator touched by the Yiling Patriarch. That the shadow touch of the demonic cultivator was enough to drive the purity from one’s spirit away, that no matter what path they led in life, there’s only doom after death. Fortunate were those who were killed by the Ghost General, for their flesh suffered less than a man’s soul in the Yiling Patriarch’s clutch.

 “Do not speak ill of others,” Lan Sizhui says and the disciples rush back to their original positions, focus on their original tasks. Though Sizhui can feel them looking at him still, wordlessly questioning his choice of reprimand, Sizhui keeps his gaze firm ahead on their teacher, unswayed. A story is a story, it can teach or entertain, but the dead were important to someone once. Or never cease to be, he believes. That feeling only grows stronger with the years that pass and the echoes he sees, imprinted on the world he perceives.

 There were so many people, once.

 There was so much love.

 Before the clouds gathered undisturbed over the pavilions where they study and chatter and live, with no ashes buried at their feet. When the sect leaders were different from the ones they knew, when the world knew less about death than it did now. In a different life, then, when the figure by the stream didn’t need to sit and wait. There was love, under the blazing sun.

 Time passes, and love does not wane. It suffers and it’s battered, sure, but it grows. Like the trees that bloom after a merciless winter. Like the smell of lotus flowers, vibrant and encompassing, when summer settles heavy in the air. Year comes after year after year. Five, ten, thirteen. Like the children that grow into young adults, love matures, blossoms, opens fearless towards the sun.

 Maybe that’s all it’s been doing, that person, in the company of the rabbits from the moon. Maybe it’s just been waiting for winter to thaw.

 Long fingers touch sleeping flower buds. A rabbit sleeps on a lap clad in fine white, the finest, but the color that could bear so much sadness seems blue in the shadow, peacefully blue, like a passing cloud. Hazel eyes, glowing like honey in the light of day, are downcast, shying away from the sun, blinking slowly, patiently. A passing breeze carries the white ribbon adorning silk-like hair, not far, for it’s firmly tied, in the form expected of Gusu Lan; it merely dances in the direction of the changing seasons. The stream is melodic in its constant current, and together with the sounds of the forest, it speaks of calm. Of passing seconds and minutes where nothing matters but the present.

 He comes with the wind, with the breeze. With a flick of the wrist, a talisman sweeps over the safe heaven, covering all with flickering light. With cheerful notes blown on a dizi, he plays a song that sounds like a smile would sound. The man sitting with the rabbits widens his eyes, just a little, as the flower buds all bloom around him, stems growing closer, almost curling around him. In a matter of seconds, he sits among a bed of white, some pink and yellow, even red little flowers, all blooming and alive. The sound that he makes is nothing like a lament the stories said, though it’s just as rare in the Cloud Recesses: it’s the huff of a laughter, and there are less people that would recognize it than people who have ever heard it at all.

 “Lan Zhan,” the man sitting atop the nearest tree says, tucking his dizi back on the sash around his waist. “Did you miss me?”

 “Yes,” replies Lan Wangji, gazing at the sun of the man’s smile.

 “I’m sorry I was away for so long, I lose track of time in night hunts.”

 “Mn,” Lan Wangji acquiesces, and because he can, he asks in return, “Did Wei Ying miss me?”

 Wei Ying moves his legs back and forth in the air, his eyes bright crescent moons.

 There’s no night now, no winter or darkness in wait.

 “Every moment of every day, husband.”

 If they could see him now, all the voices that wove his tale, every whisper that spoke of his spirit, what would they say? Or maybe there would be nothing to say, no word that could describe the glow of Hanguang-jun in the spring of his life. All of his disciples know of his good heart, but have they grown used to seeing it bursting with happiness and requited love? It elicits nothing but gasps, their faces flushing, and it would take them a long time to come up with a different story. One a little closer to the real one, of devotion and loss and love. A circle that ends not in resentment, but in release. My heart and soul in exchange for yours.

 “Lan Zhan, catch me!”

 Wei Ying leaps. It’s not like letting go, not completely. He doesn’t descend but ascend in the certainty that Lan Wangji will be there. He’s far, but not out of reach — not anymore. Lan Wangji only has to take a couple of steps before Wei Ying (his husband, husband, beloved) falls into his arms, laughing a breathless laugh. He lies back in the gift of Wei Ying’s flowers, pulling Wei Ying against his chest, and his smile is a gift too, as is his adoring gaze, and the kisses he places on Lan Wangji’s lips and cheeks and eyelids and nose. Their rabbits dance around them, learning their way around the field that is now overcome with colorful life, and the afternoon sun keeps all of them warm.

 “I’m back now,” Wei Ying says, fingers touching Lan Wangji’s bangs, his thumb tracing the cloud patterns of his ribbon. A ribbon that is his as soon as the night falls, seeming to glow in the candlelight of the Jingshi, just like a figure once glowed alone, surrounded by rabbits and memory.

 What is it about Lan Zhan that defies darkness so? Is it his goodness, or the clarity of his spirit?

 Wei Ying can see only the man, with all his flaws and mistakes and his blinding smile, as if he wants to do nothing more than bask in this moment and stretch it into forever, if he could. Like a ballad, sung in every corner of every mountain and town, all the way to the lotuses of Yunmeng.

 Wei Ying accepts the sentiments he reads on the familiar face and makes them his own.

 The disciples don’t understand why that part of the forest suddenly grew flowers so big and tall, or why their perfume carries so far. All they know is that Senior Wei is back and that in his orbit, their teacher and mentor seems to flourish into the most beautiful flower of Gusu.

 They talk and sigh and dream, and the ballad slowly takes form in the strumming of their guqin.

[serenhyunjinity]

mental patient! hyunjin

“one side of me wants to love you but the other wants to see your blood spill from every inch of your body”

word count: 2000+

‘Hwang Hyunjin, aged 19, suffers from a rare form of split personality disorder and needs to be watched at all times, be prepared for a sudden personality swap’. Reading those words written on the document that was handed to y/n only a few days before, nervousness seeped through her veins. Honestly she was just glad she wasn’t having a forty year old psychopath and instead had someone around her age. After all, she had only just made it into the career she had dreamed of since she was young.

“Are you ready?” the older nurse asked, yet her face looked unsure, he couldn't be that bad right? I mean they wouldn't assign a new nurse to an extremely dangerous patient. Nodding, this was the call to open the metal door which led into the extremely white room which had a single bed placed in the centre, although it was within seconds in which she spotted the tall male slumped against the wall.

The metal door clanked behind her as she entered with caution towards the patient who still had not acknowledged her presence. His head was low as his face had a deep look of lack of comfort. Then again who wouldn’t feel uncomfortable in an isolated room like this? “You must be my new nurse” the boy suddenly spoke, making y/n jump in shock, so he had noticed her walk in.

“Yeah, im y/n” she replied softly, trying not to sound intimidating to the boy who already looked distraught as it was. With her reply, the black haired patient glanced up, making eye contact with the nurse, sending shivers down her spine. Although she definitely was not expecting a bright smile to form on her patients lips, watching as he jumped up from his spot and stood politely in front of her. “How are you feeling today Hyunjin?”

The black haired boy contemplated to himself before once again facing the nurse “Im fine at the moment, but that's only because my nurse is pretty and not an old hag like the others” his smile was small but he chuckled lowly. She really wasn't prepared for a flirtatious patient but it was better than one who wanted nothing more than to have her dead right then and there. Motioning him to sit on the bed which was close by, he did as he was told as y/n calmly sat in her spot, but then that's when the nerves began to kick in.

“Are you nervous? Don’t be, i'm in a good mood right now” he smiled once again, okay it will go fine y/n, just calm. Gripping the clipboard, y/n took the pen from her pocket and let out a deep sigh, time to begin her first ever assessment.

“Do you have any triggers that cause your sudden personality changes?” first question and it's already cutting straight to the point. The boy sat in front of her sighed and looked around, gathering his thoughts. “Not really, it just happens, but it can happen if i get too angry” noted.

“When did your other personality begin to affect your life?” that's when Hyunjin went silent, a sad look covering his face, which had previously had a bright smile adorned on it. He looked nervous, so without a single thought, y/n reached over and grabbed his shaking hand.

“When I saw my father beating my mother, that's when I first noticed it, i just got so angry that i couldn't think of anything else except seeing him dead. He inflicted pain on me after that day, until I couldn't handle it anymore”. His words began to get shaky as they escaped his trembling lips, but with a squeeze of his hand reassuring him that it was fine to keep talking, he proceeded to do just that. “I hit him with a glass bottle and ran, fuck i dont even know if he is even alive”. Abusive father, troubled childhood.

After a few more questions, hyunjin was done with his check up. The boy gazed at the nurse who had now moved from her seat and skimmed over the notes she had scribbled down as hyunjin opened up about his illness. “Thank you for today hyunjin, ill be back tomorrow” and with that, she exited the room, hyunjin’s eyes scanning her, if only he wasnt in this stupid hospital.

-

Two weeks had passed by in the blink of an eye and y/n still had only witnessed hyunjin’s positive and bright personality. It wasn't as if she was complaining, the nurses told her that when his second personality came out, it was best to leave as soon as possible, although this was understandable from the stories that her patient had told her about throughout the course of their many sessions.

It was now time for her fourteenth session with hyunjin and as he had been a relatively well mannered and responsible patient, he was granted access to the outside world for six hours, of course whilst being supervised by his nurse, y/n. The nurses were dumbfounded when they found out that Hwang Hyunjin was doing so much better than he was a month previously, yet little did they know y/n was the reason for this. Hyunjin knew it was almost forbidden to feel this way towards a nurse, but he couldn't help the butterflies from fluttering in his stomach just by the thoughts of her.

“Hyunjin I have some news for you” hyunjin’s heart picked up its pace as soon as the girl’s voice filled his plain white room, although it certainly wasn't plain whenever she was there with him. “We’re leaving this place for a couple of hours” Hyunjin’s eyes grew wide, he was allowed out of this place? After being trapped in the mental hospital for almost three years, he could breathe fresh air.

So with this news, y/n handed him the pieces of clothing which were given to her by another nurse. I mean he couldn't just go out into the public eye in his patient uniform, it would certainly put unwanted attention onto him, and in most cases that really would not be good for him. Leaving the room, y/n waited patiently, undoubtedly she felt proud of herself for getting hyunjin to the point where he was trusted to leave the prison-like building and experience being a young adult for at least a couple of hours.

-

Stepping out of y/n’s car, the pair set foot on the grounds of an amusement park which was only fifteen minutes away from the hospital. Hyunjin had never been to an amusement park, so with the view of rollercoasters and the sweet aroma of candy filling the air, butterflies filled his stomach as y/n grabbed ahold of his hand, causing a slight blush to form on the taller male’s cheeks.

“Is there anything you want to do here?” the nurse looked at Hyunjin, who’s eyes had not left her ever since they had entered the amusement park. Her eyes met his own pair, which immediately tore away from hers and looked around at the crowded park. Each ride had a long line of people of all ages and genders waiting to go on a spin on the short, adrenaline filled rides.

“As long as you’re by my side, I'll go on anything” y/n chuckled at his comment as they began to shuffle over to the rollercoaster which was a minute or two away from the entrance. “Why are you laughing?” he questioned, a large smile plastered onto his lips as he gazed at the girl beside him whose smile brought him the most happiness he had ever felt in all the years he had been alive.

“You’re cheesy” her smile never left her face as the pair conversed as if they were lifelong friends, and not nurse and patient.

-

Three hours had passed by within a blink of an eye. Hyunjin and y/n strolled across the high streets, the aroma of freshly baked bread filled the area as they had left the nearby bakery after purchasing a couple of pastries. Hyunjin never felt so happy ever, his other personality hadn't even made an appearance for a couple of days now and honestly, even he was surprised.

“Fuck” Hyunjin snapped his head towards y/n who was searching inside of her bag in frustration. A deep sigh left her lips as she turned towards Hyunjin who was watching in curiosity. “Can we quickly go to my apartment? I think I left one of my files on my desk” without any hesitation, the black haired boy nodded.

The way back to her apartment wasn't too long, as y/n lived relatively close to where they were previously. Entering her apartment, Hyunjin scanned the area, taking in every small detail of it. In his line of vision, he could make out a picture of y/n with who he assumed were her parents and siblings, or they could be friends, he couldn't assume.

“You can sit down” he came back to his senses after hearing the girls voice signalling for him to sit on the black couch which was placed in front of a television, which looked like it hadn't been turned on for weeks. He shifted his vision towards the nurse who was stuffing her files into her bag and moving to take a seat beside hyunjin.

Silence filled the room as the two sat, staring at anything but each other, although it was rather a comfortable silence and not uncomfortable in the slightest, well at least to Hyunjin. That was until y/n sighed softly, Hyunjin’s eyes landed on her face, his heartbeat picking up its pace just by staring at her features closely.

“Did they tell you?” her question made Hyunjin confused, tell him what? He shook his head lightly and the girl looked down, and he could swear he saw her lips turn into a frown. “They said I was done with you, im being moved to another patient, this is our last time together” she was still looking down, playing with her fingers nervously.

Hyunjin’s face dropped, he swore his heart had stopped beating as the cold sweat began to come again, god please not now. “N-no you can't leave me, not yet,” his voice was shaking, he didn't want to lose her. Y/n was the only source of happiness in his life, no other nurse could take her place.

“Hyunjin, are you okay? You’re shaking” all of a sudden, the boy leaped out of his seat and grabbed the girl by her throat. “Hyunjin!” the girl managed to scream as his tears got replaced by the look of anger, his eyes turned dark as he grabbed onto the vase placed on the coffee table. The happy go lucky Hyunjin was soon replaced by his biggest fear, the Hyunjin that killed not only his father but his whole teenage life.

The nurse’s hands tried to pry off the boys but it was no use, his strength was on a completely new level to hers. So this was his other personality, the one the other nurses had warned her off all of this time, and now she was experiencing it first hand.

“One side of me wants to love you but the other wants to see your blood spill from every inch of your body” he let out a sinister chuckle as he violently smashed a part of the vase against the table, shards scattering all over the room. “Look what you’ve done to me” he sighed as he placed the sharp tip of the glass vase against her neck. Her breathing began to quicken, panic.

“Thank you for letting me experience the feeling of being loved, now we can leave together” she screamed but it all turned silent as the sharp shard was pushed into her neck, killing her instantly. Although that was when Hyunjin quickly snapped out of it, what had he just done? His heart dropped as he grabbed the body of the girl he gained deep feelings for, he just killed her.

“Don't worry y/n, i'll join you now” his shaking hands grabbed another shard as he screamed out at the world before closing his eyes, taking his last breath. He was certain he would never go back to that place ever again. He wouldn’t be like that again.

[thetailorofenbizaka]

Chapter 1–The Tale of the Scissors, Act 2: Exchange; Scene 2

The Tailor of Enbizaka, pages 32-42

For the Okuto family, Kayo was an illegitimate child.

Her mother Kagura had already been disinherited when she ran off with a man, but even so that didn’t change the fact that Kayo was related to the family.

Perhaps because he took pity on her for having no other family of her own, or perhaps because he feared the possibility of her spreading rumors about the Okuto family in her mentally ill state, her grandfather Okuto Gato had taken responsibility for her.

However, that did not mean that Kayo had been restored as a member of the Okuto family.

As soon as Kayo had recovered, she would be made to leave the house again—that was the pronouncement that Gato himself made to those around them.

The one who took care of Kayo while she was living in the Okuto mansion was a young servant girl named Tsukimoto Bufuko.

She had pretty blonde hair and blue eyes, and by her appearance she looked to be a pure foreigner. Yet, as far as one could guess from her peculiar name, there might have been some Jakokuan genes mixed in there somewhere.

It seemed she also had skill as a doctor.

Her knowledge was to the degree that even Mei’s father, a doctor himself, was in awe of her. It was thanks to her devoted care that as the four years passed Kayo’s burn scars had gotten to where they were hardly noticeable at all.

“My my, I’m impressed. I honestly didn’t think she would rebound this much,” Mei’s father was voicing in surprise, having dropped by to make a house call. “The patient does have miraculous recovery ability, but there is a great deal that’s due to your medical expertise, Bufuko-san. Where did you gain your knowledge?”

Praised by the doctor, Bufuko replied, acting a little bit bashful, “You’re too kind.  I was actually raised from a family line of doctors. So I had that influence…”

“Ah, so you’re similar to my own Mei in that regard, hm? Was your father a foreigner?”

“Yes. Lucifenian.”

“Lucifenia…So, from the Evillious region. My late wife was also from around that area.”

“Is that so?”

“I have heard that the Evillious region is far more medically advanced than Jakoku. I myself would love the chance to study their expertise, but…”

“It’s too bad cultural exchanges with foreign countries is forbidden in Jakoku, outside of here in the Izami domain where Onigashima is.”

“People like me still have opportunities to gain some foreign medical knowledge by living in Onigashima, but it’s far far less than you have, Bufuko-san—”

Bufuko waved her hand modestly at being praised again. “Enough already…Oh dear.” Bufuko stood, appearing to notice something. “It’ll be dinner time soon. I must bring Kayo her meal.”

“I see. Well then I shall head home myself before long.”

“Oh, leaving already? I had some food prepared for you as well, doctor.”

“Oh no, that won’t be necessarily. If I stay too much later I won’t get back to Onigashima before nightfall.”

“In that case, I will wrap up your portion in a rice ball for you. You can feel free to eat it if you get peckish during the trip.”

“I would be most grateful for that. Since you’ve twisted my arm.”

“I’ll get it ready for you right away. Just wait here a moment.”

So saying, Bufuko left the room.

“Miraculous recovery ability...hm,” the doctor muttered to himself, and then looked toward Kayo, who was lying down on a futon.

Her eyes were open, but they were blank, somehow.

“Doctor…”

Kayo spoke up to the doctor, eyes fixed in place.

“What is it, Kayo-san?”

“When will my burns be healed?”

“Your burns have already almost completely healed. You’ve hardly any scarring left.”

There was no lie in that. At first Kayo had suffered horrible burns all over her body, to the degree where even the skin on her face had been horribly charred; however, by now she had returned to her former beauty, as though none of it had happened.

But Kayo said only, “…That can’t be. My face was so hideous—”

“Then why don’t you see for yourself?”

The doctor pulled out a hand mirror, and brought it up to Kayo’s face.

Reflected in there was a beautiful black-haired woman.

But—

“Noooo! It’s hideous, hideous!”

Kayo suddenly screamed, and began to thrash on the futon.

“--!? Calm down! Kayo-san, Kayo-san!”

The doctor managed to soothe Kayo, and she eventually regained her composure, once more lying down on the futon.

And then she returned to having those vacant eyes.

The doctor sighed quietly, looking upon her.

“Even if the wounds on her body heal, those on her mind…”

.

“Sorry to keep you waiting~”

In short order Bufuko returned with Kayo’s meal and the bundle prepared for the doctor.

“Thank you…Well then, I take my leave.”

Once the doctor had taken the bundle, he quickly nodded to Bufuko and left the room.

“Anyway. …Kayo-saaan, I’ve brought your dinner for todaaay.”

Bufuko turned around to Kayo, and called out to her.

When she did, Kayo sat up from the futon and thanked Bufuko. “Sorry to trouble you as always...Ren.”

Ren was the name of Kayo’s dead son.

Naturally, as Bufuko was Bufuko, Ren was not her name. Not to mention, her age was different. Even if Ren were alive, he would be a four-year-old, but Bufuko was a fully-grown adult, at least past twenty. And she was of a different gender as well, for that matter.

The only real commonality they had was blond hair, but it was still extremely bizarre for Kayo to mistake Bufuko for Ren through that point alone.

“Oh no, Kayo-san. I’m sure I’ve told you many times now that my name is Bufuko.”

“Is that right…Well, thank you for the meal, Ren.”

“Sigh…” This sort of exchange had been going on every day these four years, so evidently Bufuko had half-given up on it. “Well, as long as you eat everything up and get better, that’s good enough for me, Kayo-san.”

Bufuko silently watched over Kayo as she took her meal.

Right around then, a new figure entered the room.

“Excuse me.”

It was a tall, delicately featured man with his long hair bound in a topknot.

“My my, Anan-sama.  Long time no see.”

The moment Bufuko saw him, she gave a deep bow.

Anan passed right by Bufuko and knelt down beside Kayo. Then he asked, “Kayo, you’re awake. I’ll ask you this only once now. Where have you hidden…the Okuto family ‘treasure’?”

Kayo looked up at Anan with a flabbergasted expression, but eventually replied, quietly, “…Like I’ve told you over and over again…I don’t know anything about a ‘treasure’ like that.”

Anan lifted his eyes, appearing about to say something once more. But before he could, Bufuko put a hand on his shoulder.

“Anan-sama, there’s no point! I think that Kayo-san truly doesn’t know anything. She doesn’t look like she’s lying, to me.”

“…Grrr.”

Anan cast his eyes down regretfully.

“They have to…have to be somewhere. The treasure that this woman’s mother—Okuto Kagura—stole from our home…The ‘Dual Cursed Blades’!”

“But given that Kagura-san died in an accident a year before the fire—”

“I know that! That’s why I’m looking into her daughter Kayo!”

“Kayo-san told me that she’s never seen such blades before, and even if they were hidden somewhere in her home, they would have burned up alongside the tailor shop in the great fire…”

“…No matter how we searched the ruins we didn’t find anything. Cursed blades that could be made a family heirloom would certainly be able to withstand flames of that level. In other words…Outside of asking this woman about it I have no other recourse to fulfill my mission.”

This samurai named Anan was a descendent of Okuto Gato--To put it another way, he would be a blood cousin of Kayo’s.

He had been entrusted by his grandfather with locating the family treasure that Kagura had taken with her.

What exactly it meant that he hadn’t completed that mission…I wouldn’t know, but at the very least it wasn’t very good for his standing in the Okuto family.

Anan had been periodically visiting Kayo’s room and questioning her ever since she’d arrived in the Okuto house, but ultimately he had been unable to achieve any results up to that day.

Kayo being unable to tell him the whereabouts of the blades was not because she was hiding it, nor was it because of her mental illness.

Just as Bufuko said, Kayo legitimately hadn’t heard anything from her mother about any blades.

“Hmph…Oh well. I have other business today.” Anan adjust his posture as he knelt and then said to Kayo, “Okuto…No, Sudou Kayo. I have been told that the tailor shop you were living in before has been successfully rebuilt. Thanks to the financial aid of the Freezis Foundation firm.”

“Goodness! That’s great news!” Bufuko rejoiced. But Anan’s face stayed stern. And Kayo made no change in her expression.

“I have also heard that you have recovered to the point where you can get by without difficulty. …Therefore, our esteemed magistrate has ordered me to have you evicted from here.”

“--!? You can’t be serious!”

Bufuko was the only one who objected there.

“Kayo-san has recovered quite a bit, it’s true. But her mind still…needs more time.”

“That’ll be true whether she’s staying here or not, won’t it? We can’t just let someone who’s not a member of this family stay here eating free meals forever.”

“Kayo-san is a granddaughter to the magistrate, and a cousin to you too, isn’t she? And yet—the magistrate has not yet forgiven Kagura-sama, has he?”

“…That’s not the only thing. There is a problem with the woman herself.”

“What are you saying?”

“Kayo-san’s late husband—He is another grandchild of the esteemed magistrate.”

“What!? This is the first I’m hearing of that.”

Bufuko looked extremely shocked, but Kayo made hardly any response at all.

This was common knowledge for her. For she had pledged herself to her husband while knowing everything.

“You know that the esteemed magistrate had four children, don’t you? One of those children was Kagura, one was my own father, and the son of one of the remaining two was Kayo’s husband—In short, Kayo married her own cousin.

“But that’s not such an uncommon thing here in Jakoku, is it?”

“You are correct, but Kayo’s husband also was disinherited from the Okuto family for his riotous ways...So it’s obvious that our magistrate would never think well of Kayo having married him. You could say that taking care of her to this point is a last act of charity from him. But that ends today.”

After Anan had said that much, he then said to Bufuko:

“You have been attending on Kayo until now, but that also ends now. Starting tomorrow you will once again return to being my servant.”

“Huh~~!?”

“Why are you so displeased!? You’re just returning to how it was before! …For that reason, you too will be making preparations to leave this house tonight.”

“Wha!? Why?”

“You must know that I am providing assistance to the Freezis Foundation Firm! And you cannot serve my needs while remaining here.”

“…So then I guess that means I’m going to be living in the Freezis Trading House too.”

“Hm, yes. It was only just rebuilt a few years back so it’s quite clean.”

“But we’ll have to come into contact with a bunch of foreigners, won’t we? How annoyiiiing~”

“Are you really one to say that, having by all rights the appearance of a foreigner yourself?”

“Yeah, but I’m born and raised a Jakokuan~”

“Stop your whining! I’ll chop you down right here!”

“Huagh…That’s why I don’t wanna…” Bufuko turned back to Kayo, shoulders drooping. “Kayo-san. Starting tomorrow I’m going to be working at the Freezis Trading House. So unfortunately, this is the last day I’ll be able to take care of you.”

Bufuko looked genuinely regretful when she said it, but Kayo, who had been expressionless up to that point, lit up in amazement.

“My my! Working at that big merchant firm! How good for you, Ren. I should do something to celebrate… But all your mother knows how to do is make new clothes…”

“…Then how about you make a new outfit for me? I feel like the kimono I have now clashes a bit with a western style house.”

“Alright. What would you like?”

“A maid uniform! Something frilly and foreign!”

Her reply had been instantaneous.

“A foreign maid uniform, hm? I’ve never made one before, but your mother will do her best.”

When Kayo smiled, Bufuko looked sheepish but happy.

<<prev------directory------ext>>

[succubustears]

My nightmare started at the hospital. My friend K and I were at a hospital... I don't really remember why. We were rushed out with a group of people. We left my aunt K there. Everyone was looking for their cars in this giant parking lot. My friend thought my car was in the opposite direction of where it was. I guided him the right way and using my cars horn we found it. It was in the biggest parking lot I have ever seen. Surrounded by dumped rusty metal storage containers and other things. It was like a giant open warehouse or dump site.

When we got into the car my two aunts C and S were there. S was driving for some reason so I was in the back with K. We drove through the area and S made a huge turn and scraped the back of my car on a container. I felt scared and timidly asked if she would help repair it.

We were on the road this time and surrounded by the usual PNW trees. She made another huge turn but the car left the road. We plummeted backwards into the foliage for so long, finally hitting a tree dead on with the back of the car flinging us down into a valley. We were already far off from any town. My aunts were fine but K and I were really rattled. I got out and found my bearings. K was getting ill by the car. C and S kept acting like we were being dramatic.

I looked around. There were a few older looking buildings, but no roads. Two young boys peeked out and we're walking over. I looked at my phone and had a bit of service. I called the emergency number and a man answered and cut me off every time I tried to speak. He said he would get us but I never said where i was. It made me nervous.

The boys arrived and I asked if they had any adults with them. They timidly looked at each other and said the adults wouldn't help us but they would do their best to help. They looked scared so I hugged each and had them go back home. I couldn't find K. Eventually S and C were gone too. They had left without me purposefully. The objects I took from the car were left but the car was gone too, only leaving the damage it caused in the dirt and trees. Night was arriving.

Time passed. I was there a while, along with another version of me. A version who couldn't talk. A version I protected like a sister. We lived in the place the car crashed. I took care of her and when the boys didn't return from the houses I decided to investigate them myself. My phone was gone and I couldn't find it. I wanted to contact someone.

I met one of the boys and asked if I could use their restroom. He agreed and let me in. I locked myself in and sat on the closed toilet, crying softly to myself a while. I was still cut and bruised from the crash tired and in pain. I calmed myself down and looked at myself in the mirror. I had dried blood on my face, my hair was tangled, my face was swollen and I noticed my front teeth had chipped. A vain part of me was devestated. They hurt but it wasn't so bad so I rinsed my face and began drinking the water desperately. I noticed it was a coppery brown color but I didn't care.

I left to thank the boy but he was gone. The more I looked around the house it didn't look lived in. I made my way to a bedroom that gave me a sinister feeling. There were two closets. One had some cloth hanging out of it, like it was closed in a rush and someone was hiding on the other side. I could hear voices from behind it. I walked slowly to it and the voices got louder. I had my hand on the handle but everything in my body told me not to open it. I was terrified.

I snapped out of it and left that room quickly. I looked around the house and remembered the boy telling me that I could take anything I wanted. I found my backpack there but I didn't bring it. I thought it was in the car when it was removed. I was happy because it had my study materials and other things I like to keep with me. It was mood lifter to say the least. Something told me to stay out of that house. I took a rolled up carpet, blankets, and things I could use to fortify our camp outside.

I returned to the other me. She was terrified and clung to me, so I hugged her. I guess I was gone a while. I gave her a book I found and she stayed in the camp reading it. She just read whatever I handed to her. I spent the time studying my Japanese and being frustrated with my inability to write Kanji properly. Time passed.

So much time had passed. The houses looked overgrown. I hadn't seen the boys in a long time. I had stacked stones into a bit of a wall. It was flat enough to doodle on and carve out. Made me feel safe. The moss and the comfort of the trees weren't so bad. The sun peeked through the trees and it wasn't so bad. I still wanted to leave.

I went to look for more things for my other me to read, and things to fortify our camp with. I looked through a window and saw animals scamper into another room. I opened the window and let myself in. It was a different house than the other. I hadn't been in this one yet. It didn't look lived in but it didn't look complete abandoned either. It gave me a pit in my stomach. I could tell I wasn't alone. I walked through the living area and into a hall that led to the rooms. I heard an old man scream from behind me and began to chase me. I shoved into a bedroom and ran into a closet, trying to pull the door closed.

But... Clothing was peeking out of it causing me to be unable to close the door. My eyes were wide and terrified, realizing I had seen this before, but from the other side. It was too late. The man was already in the room and knew where I was due to my mistake. I tried to keep the door closed with my strength but it wasn't a match. He was stronger than me. Almost feral. Spit was foaming and dripping from his thin lips onto his unkempt facial hair. He looked like he lived here alone forever. He slammed the door open and reached for me like a zombie. I screamed.

I woke up in a panic back at my camp. It was that morning before I went into the house. I looked at my shaking hands. There were red marks from me trying to keep the door closed and protect myself. It was almost like I had died and respawned. I gulped and calmed myselfm understanding my mistakes and I attempted to do it again, for some reason. If I could just not get caught...

I followed the same path as before. He screamed and I ran. I tried to grab the clothing hung on the door to make sure I could close it in time but it got caught anyway. My eyes widened in fear. I knew... But it happened anyway. I felt betrayed by my ego. I was so scared I fainted. I felt my consciousness leave my hands first, my knees buckled, my eyes closed and all I could hear was the feral footsteps of the man pursuing me.

My eyes fluttered open. It was dark but I could tell I was at the bottom of the closet. My back ached from laying on boxes and shoes. I pulled myself up and listened. It was quiet. I peeked out the door and there was no one there. My guard up, I left the closet and tiptoed out to peek out to the living room. I could tell I was alone in the house I relaxed a tiny bit with a small breath out.

The living room had changed. In front of the dingy blue couch there was now a bed shoved in the little space that was between the couch and the font window. It looked like the bed had been used recently. Something was placed on the unkempt covers. To my delight it was my phone. I checked it and it had a bit of charge and a bit of signal.

I ran back to my camp and called my father, who answered the phone casually asking how I had been. I didn't know how much time had passed but I knew it was a long time. I was shaking and trying to be polite. I know my father and if I speak to him wrong he would just hang up but I knew I couldn't call he emergency line again.

I was holding back tears. He was the first tangible thing I was able to contact. I told him what happens. The car accident, I couldn't find K, C and S left without me. I'm alone and I want to go home. I'm scared.

He sounded a bit annoyed. "C and S got back fine. Why can't you? Where's your car?" He said.

I explained that the car left when C and S left. I was desperate. They must have taken it! I gasped. I was holding on to my phone with both hands.

He sounded a bit less annoyed. "Ah. What a pain."

Tears were bubbling out of my eyes. I kept my voice calm knowing he would hang up on me if he heard me crying. "Please... I'd like to go home. I'll do anything to pay you back so please help me just this once. Just get me home.

My dad was quiet a moment. His voice was so calm and so cold. "It would be easier and cheaper for me if you just stayed there. It's going to cost money to find you. It's just going to be a burden on me. I'm happy. Why can't you just stay."

My heart skipped a beat. It felt like I was stabbed in the chest. My knees were weak. I was in so much pain. I was suffering. My teeth were broken. I was being hunted. I was so scared. My knees buckled and I begged.

He sighed on the other end and asked where I was. I scrambled to pull open my phone out to open my gps and I was immediately confused. I wasn't in Washington anymore. I was in Indonesia... But it wasn't Indonesia. It was called Indonesia but due to dream logic it looked more like Madagascar on the map and had the look of rural Washington...

He said he would try and make something work and my phone died. I held the phone to my chest. At least I could have the hope that I may be getting help.

Some more time passed and a man younger than me came, I recognized him as one of the boys from before. He said he was back for the summer but his brother wouldn't be joining him. He stayed a bit with me and helped me with things I couldn't physically do. He was secretive but I knew he was familiar. I was there for so long it almost seemed like home. He had gotten me more paper and pens and I was so happy.

All I can remember is that at night there was always a shadow to be afraid of. Similar to the old man I always ran from. My tired body always ached and my teeth hurt. The other me wasn't there anymore. It was just me. Lonely and tired on the verge of giving up.

My dad came and while I was scared I still was polite and appreciatative. He made comments about my cleanliness and teeth but I could hardly pay attention. I cried saying goodbye to the boy and asked him to not forget me. I felt so sad. I was so easily forgotten by everyone. Even my own family. I begged him not to and he promised he wouldnt. I knew he would forget me but it made me feel better to hear it. I remember limply sitting in the passengers side of my fathers truck as we drove away. I fell asleep.

I opened my eyes and saw nothing but darkness. I felt the fear like I was back in the closet. I was in the closet. It was closed this time fully so I couldn't see a thing. It was hot and suffocating. I was sweating and my heart was pounding. My knees ached and my jaw ached. Someone was on the otherside of the closet.

-

I gasped in fear and was finally actually awake. I was rocketed awake by my work alarm. My mouth was dry and my body was sweaty, aching, and so heavy. I felt like I was awoken from the deepest sleep. I wanted to just fall back asleep but I slept so deep I missed my 9am alarm and it was my 10am alarm which meant I had to clock into work as soon as possible.

It took every ounce of strength and willpower to myself out of bed. My knees buckled since they've been swollen lately from the new medication I'm taking. I couldn't see straight and I clocked into work, plopping into my chair. I took my Adderall to counteract this fatigue as soon as possible. I fed the cats and made it back to my chair. I went to bed on time. I slept about 7-8 hours, I can only assume. I didn't do anything different last night. I ate well, took my medication on time, didn't eat sweets or forget to exercise.

I don't know why I dreamt all that. It took me 3 hours to write this all down. I dont know why I needed to do that. I just needed to. It's 1pm now and I'm still exhausted. My teeth look fine though. There's no reason to be afraid.

I wonder what it meant. If anything at all.

[darkwritingsnshit]

Fallen Stars

Please disregard my bad writings. This has been on my laptop for months and I wanted to get it off my hard drive. We’ll see where this goes honestly.

Warnings: This will probably be a dark fic with dark characters, noncon elements, smut and death. Please o not read if you are under 18 or uncomfortable with above mentioned plots. 

           The blaster shots glanced by your head as you shoved your guard Nele into a thicket of trees. Though it was her job, you weren’t about to let her die for you, not today.

           “My queen!! We must fall back and regroup, there are too many of them!” Your commander’s voice was panicked and strained, you could tell even through the static against your ear that her words were laced with real fear.

           Fall back, regroup, outnumbered, how had this happened? For a thousand years, your family had led your planet, passed mother to daughter, a matriarchal system that ensured the safety and wellbeing of each and every one of the millions of lives that dotted your planet. Now you were covered in dirt and blood and would be lucky to make it out of these woods alive.

              The peace and booming trade economy that you and your mother fostered, helped by elected leaders of the people, had brought three entire systems to center their economies and influence upon your planet. What had started a thousand years ago as an emerging planet of peace and growth, had transformed into a beacon of political power and a center of influence across the close by systems.

           Not only did you have a planet to look after, but whoever wore the crown and commanded the on-planet senate held the power in all three surrounding systems. Your planet’s largest moon held one of the most impressive and beautiful governing halls since the fall of the Republic. Less grand than it had once been with parts of it bombed down, system leaders still met with you among the standing halls and brokered deals, made laws, fortified trade and ensured protections for all three systems.

           Your planet and system had opposed the Empire and had yet to give into the First Order. Politically, it was a death sentence to endorse your support for the Rebels, and it was becoming harder and harder to keep the First Order from extending their arm’s reach into your system.

In court your mother only openly supported the rights and liberties of her people, she would often raise a toast when the rebels scored a large victory. As a leader, she called it a rightful expression of the people; the people had asked for redress from the First Order and were met with a crushing fist.

When you were alone together, she would tell you of how she had once met Princess Leia Organa on a Rebel base when she was younger. The great queen strong, and her softness for the Rebellion known, your planet indeed housed many Rebels; it was even said to have been one of the last places the Old Republic Senators had ever met as a governing body.

           You were a child when the Empire fell, young but still old enough to remember seeing the last few battles, watching men and women leave your hangars, never to come home. You remember your mother’s ever present fear, could nearly taste it. You remembered that she dressed in all black and was armed at all times, that she taught you to wield a blaster. You saw the celebrations that screamed across the galaxy, the weight lifted and the freedom in the air.

           Over and over, you heard the chants of people in the streets, the jubilation and joy from being freed from the oppressor of the galaxy. You could remember them cheering, screaming through the streets “Never again!”. Never again. Here you were. What had happened?

        _______________________________________________________________

“Supreme Leader, with the submission of-” General Hux knelt with a bowed head in front of a man held together by darkness and evil energy he could feel radiating from every particle.

           “Don’t you see?! It does not matter how many simple, puny planets are crushed into submission. This planet has held the influence of three systems for a thousand years! As long as she stands opposed to the First Order, there will be rebellion in not one, but THREE star systems!!” Snoke’s rotting skin seemed translucent in the lights from the ship, his gold cloak doing nothing to hide the lacerations along his throat.

           “It would be simple to destroy, Supre-” Started another well-meaning officer from behind General Hux.

           “NO! Does no one listen? The destruction of this planet leads the systems against us in open warfare! Should this planet fall under our thumb, so do all three systems; without a body count and without losing valuable First Order time and resources.”

           “Supreme Leader. I have some information that may serve you well.” Kylo Ren stepped forward from the shadows hiding him along the wall, holding in front of him a small square data chip. “From this new information, it seems like the conflict among the planet’s rulers may have swung in our favor.”

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

           Under the cover of dark you and your guard Nele made it to a rendezvous point and were able to get medical care and some rest. You saw to it that Nele got enough to eat before finding your general for an update.

           “What’s the status on your front?” General Lin flinched as you stepped out of the shadows, General Mar smiled, though it was short lived.

           “Casualties were high in the pass, your stepbrother’s men had the high ground.” Lin’s grim face was dirty, uniform covered in dark stains.

           “There may be better news from the left right flank your highness.” Mar stepped forward with a smile. Good news? Anything, you would be grateful for any advantage now.

           “It seems your stepfather doesn’t know about the old battlements below the cliffs.” Your general stepped forward with a map of the area, you all drew forward around her.

General Mar traced a finger over the path down the Cyone Cliffs to where they led to the tucked away cove below. You smiled at your general, grateful for her years of service to your family. There were secrets unbeknownst even to you hidden in your new kingdom. Both generals had served your mother for years; you were learning so much from what they passed on to you.

“Below the cliffs is a stone fortress with rations, a ship and supplies. It’s hidden by the foliage and angle of the rock, with tunnels creating access points to the hill above.” Mar, Lin and the arranged officers turned to you.

“It’s not fortified enough to be a base, but it’s a place to lie low and regroup. Let’s get the ship up and running, we can meet the rest of the royal army on the other side of the continent.” There was a murmuring of agreement before you dismissed them and spoke closely with Lin and Mar.

 “What do you think? Really?” At that moment you weren’t a queen standing before your generals, you were a young adult begging for help from her nearly dead mother’s trusted advisors.

“It’s alright wildflower, we aren’t losing ground, you’ve made the right decision.” Mar’s hand on your shoulder was comforting, you closed your eyes and breathed deep. Lin smiled at you and took your hands.

“Your mother is proud of you, little wildflower.” Her eyes were the same color as your mother’s. “You are fighting for your people, and we will not give up. We will win for them, for all of our people, understand?” You nodded your head.

“Thank you both, your advice and words of comfort bring me more strength than you can believe.” Mar and Lin had stepped back and gave you approving looks.

“Get some sleep, my queen.” Mar called after you as you made your way to your sleeping pad for a few hours of rest.

   Sleep did not come easy; the casualties of the battle weighed heavy on your mind, as did the weight of the decisions on where to move next.

Your stepfather didn’t know your planet like you did. Of course he didn’t, he and your stepbrothers came to your planet when they were grown. Your mother had agreed to marry your stepfather to incite peace and new trades. Your stepfather came from a family with wealth around the system, though he had none of his own. A marriage to a well-respected queen brought your stepfather and older stepbrothers to your prosperous, blooming planet.

You could remember bits and pieces of your real father, but he had died when you were young. There were whispers of him being a secret rebel who died in one of the last battles, though your mother shushed such rumors. When you were a child you would memorize each detail of their wedding photos, and each memory of him that the elder women would tell you.

After the remarriage, your new stepfather pushed your mother to change the line of succession, and have his sons take the crown when your mother was to pass. Your mother’s anger echoed through the halls that day, you remember smiling when her shouting echoed off the stone walls around the palace. All efforts of your stepfather trying to finagle his way into your crown seemed to have stopped. Until at least, your mother got sick.

Just over six months ago, your mother had begun to feel ill. At first it was nausea, cramping and stomach pains, her throat turned and stayed sore, and eventually her heart began to beat irregularly. In shock and horror, you watched your perfectly strong, regal mother deteriorate in the span of months, until she slipped into the comma, she remained in.

As soon as your mother had been too ill to attend meetings, your stepfather had immediately seized control of the crown. For a thousand years, the crown had passed, mother to daughter, and it wasn’t until your mother was non-responsive that your stepfather officially declared himself king of your planet, no matter anyone’s protests.

  A King on the Queen’s throne of Galia did not sit well with most of your planet. Nevertheless, taking advantage of your mother’s severe state, your stepfather had taken over the royal palace with the help of his sons and their armies, and you were forced to flee and regroup with those who were still loyal to you.

There were few who were loyal to the new King of Galia, those that did were paid men or your stepbrother’s armies who had never been on planet. It angered you to see so many innocent lives lost, so much of your planet destroyed over a crown, over a throne.

Truthfully, you cared not for the crown or a palace to overlook the hills, you cared about the people living in those hills, the wellbeing of the children in the fields and if everyone in the village had enough to eat. Your stepbrothers would call you a wildflower when they saw you running through the streambeds, down dusty roads barefoot. When you would run to your mother and complain, she would laugh, and ask you why you would be upset that someone had called you something as lovely as a wildflower.

 Wiping nostalgia back from your brain, you pictured topographical maps and battle lines drawn across them. With any luck, you would be able to overpower, outmaneuver and take back the palace within 30-35 rotations. You were in a bad position now, but with your general’s knowledge of the land and the base on the other continent, you would be safe by this time tomorrow.

  _________________________________________________________

 “Ships are closing on the planet sir, we’ll send stormtroopers planetside once we arrive.” Standing on the bridge, a man read off his data pad and tried not to make eye contact.

“Thank you Major, that will be all. Deploy three battalions to the palace and wait for myself and Ren to arrive.” Hux glanced at him and continued on his data pad until the Star Destroyer came to a halt in front of a blue and green swirling planet.

The information that Ren had brought forward gave insight to an unbelievable situation. The Queen was near dead, her husband took the throne and the princess was in exile rallying troops. Snoke had insisted they pounce on the situation, taking the opportunity to give full support to the dying Queen’s husband. If the new King were only in power because of the First Order, he would be easy to control. Control the planet, control the system.

Hux’s data pad lit up when the battalions were leaving the docking station and he took his greatcoat from where it was hanging and prepared to arrive on Galia. Captain Phasma and Kylo Ren met Hux on the shuttle, an admittedly tense but short ride.

Stepping onto the planet, Hux realized that he was overdressed, as heat and humidity washed over him. The palace itself was grand as he expected; a thousand years of architecture and design had gone into a beautiful white stoned palace that seemed to be rising out of the sea and growing from the mountainside it was built on. From what Hux had gathered, there were several decent sized continents, but the rest of the planet was a warm archipelago.

Troops and ships were deploying around them as two men that Hux didn’t recognize came hurrying up to the approaching soldiers. Ren waved down the troopers that drew weapons at the approaching men. They raised their hands, showing they came unarmed, and walked towards the generals and their men.

“We received your offer of assistance and are more than grateful to you!” One man shouted from a few feet. He held up a holodisk that Ren snatched from his open palm using the force. With a click, the disk lit up, an older man dressed in finery spoke to the generals.

“It is with great thanks that I, King of Galia received the First Order’s offer of assistance. We welcome you into our palace upon your arrival and will be happy to get you and your troops anything you could need. My messengers will bring you to the palace for your reception.” The holodisk went dark in Ren’s palm.

“Please gentlemen, have your men follow us to the palace where our King will be happy to make accommodations and arrangements for everyone.” The other of the two messengers spoke. Ren nodded his head once, motioned two fingers foreword.

“Lead the way.” Came Ren’s masked voice, already following the two men towards the palace.

 The First Order’s procession of troops and tanks made way to the shining palace, finding more soldiers wearing different uniforms standing in formation, awaiting their arrival. Three men stood before rest, the generals and Captain Phasma crossed the rest of the path to meet them.

“Esteemed guests, welcome!” Your stepfather stepped forward to greet the First Order at his palace gates. “Please come inside, we have so much to discuss.”

  __________________________________________________________

 Sleeping little, you rose before dawn to oversee everyone’s preparation to evacuate. You wanted to make sure that all your soldiers and supporters got out safely before you did. You were the one making the plans, you had to make sure that those who were following your orders would be safe.

“We’ve got soldiers moving down the cliffs already, your highness, they’ll be getting the ship and communications ready to go.” General Mar was at your right shoulder, watching you strain to see through the dark.

“That’s a relief, we’re going to be vulnerable and at a disadvantage climbing down the cliffs.” You hadn’t been down them before but weren’t picturing the best fighting position.

“We will be under cover of foliage for most of the journey. We will leave food supplies and unnecessary equipment hidden here. We won’t take anything with us besides weapons, droids and the electronics we need to make a safe departure.” Mar looked to the suns that weren’t yet illuminating the horizon.

“It seems you’ve thought of everything General. I’m thankful to have you by my side.” Words wouldn’t ever let her know how much you needed her.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else, wildflower. Lin has the maps and oversees communications. You will find her at the tent down to the right. When you are close enough, you’ll see it.” Mar gave your shoulder a squeeze and pointed you in the direction of General Lin.

It was hard to see in the dark, though the sky was slightly lightening, you could hear the hushed whispers and were able to see a makeshift tent in the grass. Picking out the general’s whisper from the others, you found Lin directing her soldiers and scanning maps. From what you could see, about a quarter of your company was already on the cliffs or below, and secure communications seemed to be up and running. You were always impressed by what she was able to pull together.

“We are working to hurry the progress my lady, we know that with every minute we stay is a minute in your stepfather’s favor.” Lin whispered across the table.

“I am beyond impressed by your operations here General, I am forever indebted to you and your soldiers.” You whispered back, near silent operations swirling around you.

“Your highness,” Lin began, “you are indebted to no one. You are our Queen, and we have pledged our lives and loyalty your mother, to you and any children you may have. We are proud to serve you, to fight and die for you because of all your family has done for our planet and our people.” Sincerity laced every one of her features.

“Thank you,” you managed, blinking back tears you wouldn’t let spill. “Please don’t let me hold up your operations, I will ready my ladies to go.”

  The dawn was about to break; you were fighting the suns as you ran across the grass. You insisted on being among the last of your soldiers down the cliffs. Your generals had been against it, but there had been no trace of movement from your stepbrother’s army and they didn’t have the manpower or knowledge of the terrain for an effective pursuit. You wanted to make sure all of your women were safe and ready to evacuate before leaving your position.

“Final squad, three minutes incoming,” you breathed over the transmitter to Mar.

“Copy that; shuttle is prepared for departure, awaiting your arrival. I want to take off the second you’re aboard, come down the dock running your highness!” Mar barked.

Truly the cliffs that overlooked the sea were a breathtaking sight. If you could, you would sit back and admire the suns beginning to shine across the sparkling water, turning the world before you to a sea of sapphires dotted with emerald islands as you looked to the east. In too much of a hurry, you and your guards focused on getting down to the ship and to safety.

The trail was easy enough; able to walk three across it was nicer than many hiking trails you had been on. General Lin had done a wonderful job clearing it in the night, you could see stumps where trees had grown across and layers of foliage tossed to the sides that had been hiding the old war paths. Mar told you this particular trail hadn’t been used for nearly a hundred years, and the maps your stepfather was using had no record of the old trails.

“The fool has no respect for the ways of our planet, the ways of our people. If he does not read the histories, he will be blind to the futures.” Mar had expressed to you in exasperation one night.

“Two minutes and closing, ready the ship for takeoff,” you called over the radio, wanting to be gone from this part of the planet so securely under your stepfather’s control. Still moving, you heard only static.

“Repeat, one minute 45 seconds and closing, what’s your status?” Still nothing. “Mar? Lin?” you had radio silence.

“Stop.” You held your hand up and your company came to a halt. Staying still, you listened but heard nothing. Birds screamed above your head, the wind shifted, and you tasted salt. If you stayed where you were, you had nowhere to go. Sending a silent prayer that there was something wrong with the transmitter, you tried again.

“Mar, what’s your status?” You and your soldiers were silent, the only sounds coming from the wind, waves, and birds.

“Your highness,” It wasn’t general Mar who you expected, but Lin who sounded breathless.

“Lin what’s going on?” You still held your hand in the stop position, every one of you were watching the transmitter with bated breath.

“The- one of the engineers thought there was a problem with a fuel cell…” Lin’s voice cut out before continuing. “We’ve prepared for takeoff your highness.”

Nele, your personal guard shifted beside you, concern written across her face.

“It’s supposed to be Mar,” Nele shook her head and shifted closer to you.

“What do you suggest, Nele?” You asked her in a whisper. All of the women around you looked uneasy. There was a murmur among them but Nele again shook her head.

“It’s up to you, my queen. But from where I see it, there’s nowhere to go but forward. There is nothing left for you on this side of the planet.” Nele gripped her blaster closer.

“You’re right, Nele.” Something felt wrong, but you squared up your shoulders. “One minute 45 seconds and closing, be ready for takeoff.” You motioned with your hands and your party continued forward with you.

“Copy.” Was the only response from Lin as you hurried your way down the cliffs.

 “Thirty seconds Lin, I don’t hear the engines you need to be ready!” You and Nele were almost sprinting the last few meters before the trail would open up into the loading dock.

“We’re ready,” came Lin’s reply over the transmitter you clutched opposite your gun.

Company in tow, you and Nele made the last turn before skittering to a halt, Nele stepping her entire body in front of yours and backing you behind your approaching soldiers. You found yourself in the middle of a company of your closest soldiers, blasters drawn, completely unprepared for what faced you.

  _____________________________________________________________

General Hux was loathe to admit when something had upstaged his expectations, but the royal palace of Galia was too stunning to hold grudges against. Even the foundations of the palace were impressive; inlaid with stones that held fossils of ancient creatures from the depth of Galia’s oceans.

The library and data catalogue were something else altogether. Hux had only seen this much data and information in highly secure military bases, and from what he could gather, most of it was open to the public. Thousands of years of information were behind two doors that seemed to never close.

After Captain Phasma had been dispatched to organize and prepare all the troops, Hux sent a tactical droid to learn as much as possible about any and all battle stations, bases, and war intel on the planet in the last three hundred years. It would transmit the information to Phasma so she could better her battle plans.

In the brief meeting Hux had surmised that the new King of Galia was an insufferable idiot. This would be too easy. Should the exiled princess be captured, any rebellion would be short lived. With the king under the influence of the First Order and the princess at their mercy, the planet would have no choice but to crumble to the First Order. Rejoining the king and Ren, Hux was fairly confident with their mission.

“General.” Captain Phasma strode forward, the din of the army faint behind her. “Based on the king’s information of their last battle, and maps compiled by the tactical droid, I believe we’ve pinpointed the princess’s location.

“She’s no princess!” The king spoke up from beside the general. “She’s a traitor to the crown and has been removed from any chance of succession. She is no princess on Galia.”

The general chose to ignore the king’s outburst, wanting more information.

“Show us where, captain.” Came Ren’s deep voice came before Hux had the chance.

Captain Phasma held up a holodisk that showed a piece of land, with terrain and trails marked across the landscape.

“Based on the information your sons have given me about the last battles and where they would have a chance to regroup, the only place they could seek refuge would be these old battlements on the Cyone Cliffs.”

The king balked at the captain’s maps. “Those old maps and trails haven’t been used in a hundred years, there’s no way they would even know about those battlements.”

“You assume too much.” Ren’s voice made the room drop in temperature, the king pall. “You underestimate the princess and her support.”

The king didn’t answer but shifted uncomfortably and grumbled.

“Captain,” began Hux, “how sure are you of the princess’s position?”

“If the information I’ve been given by the king’s son is correct, there’s nowhere else she could be, general.” Phasma answered.

“She’s there.” Came Ren’s clipped tone, he was already striding from the room towards his shuttle.

“Move the troops out Captain.” Hux told Phasma before turning to the king, looking smug. “We will retrieve the princess and return to the palace shortly.”

General Hux left the king looking rather speechless in his own hall. Truly the general had no care for what the king thought. He had invited the First Order to Galia with open arms, Hux would be damned if this old man got in the way now.

Flying over yesterday’s battlefield Hux saw bodies smattered across fields, dark stains against trampled, emerald green grasses. Following Phasma’s coordinates, the ground dropped off beneath the shuttle to sparkling water beneath. Turning and flying low, close to the blue water, Hux watched white cliffs pass before his eyes. Still descending, the shuttle nearly touched the water before a dock came into view, with a shuttle for 100 powered up and preparing for takeoff.

“Fire on that ship. I want it grounded not destroyed, the princess may be inside.” Hux instructed an admiral before him. Within seconds the back half of the shuttle was in flames, people running to evacuate.

“Phasma, land your troops and contain the solders. Kill anyone who isn’t an officer of higher ranking.” Hux watched as his three airships landed, troops pouring out and surrounding the shuttle and soldiers who had been preparing it for takeoff.  

Meeting Ren on the dock, Hux watched as chaos ensued around him. Women being knocked down to their knees, the smell of burnt flesh rising as firing squads made bodies drop. Within minutes there were but five left alive, being shoved towards Hux and Ren at the end of Phasma’s blaster.

“We’ve identified three rebel officers and two generals, general.” Phasma reported, the five women surrounded by twice as many guards.

Looking over the group they were raggedy indeed; blood, sweat and singed clothing, matted hair, he saw scared soldiers who had watched all their friends and sisters die. There were two who stood out, one who seemed to hold no fear, the other gave away her position by monitoring the officers too closely- they were her responsibility.

“Where is the princess?” Came Ren’s modulated voice, a cold feeling creeping into the bones of those surrounding them. When he got no response, he lifted a hand and brought all the women to their knees, holding their throats.

“Stop!” One of the women spoke and raised her hand to Ren.

“Where is, the princess? I won’t ask again.” Ren had released the soldiers, the one who had spoken standing to face him.

“We have no princess on Galia, this army is loyal to the Queen, who is safe.” The woman’s voice was steady, her eyes did not betray the same fear that was written on her fellow soldier’s faces.

A blaster shot sounded, one of the soldiers dropped dead behind the woman speaking. A scream came up from the others, but the woman held steady and stared at Ren unflinchingly.

“I see you’re prepared to die for your queen.” The chill was still palpable in the air. “Let’s see if your soldiers feel the same way.” Ren nodded to Phasma who pushed forward the second women who seemed more and more concerned for the three other soldiers.

This time it was Hux who stepped forward, pacing around the woman with fear written in her eyes.

“If you don’t tell us where the queen is, I will have my captain dismember each of your soldiers in front of you until you are so inclined to give us her position. Do you understand me?” He came to a stop before her, she was glancing between her soldiers and the other woman who had spoken to Ren. To prove a point, Phasma sharply kicked a soldier to her knees, eliciting a cry of pain. The woman before Hux dropped her eyes to the ground.

“She’s not here yet.” She spoke softly, as if she was trying to keep her soldiers from hearing her admission.

Hux nodded sharply, then motioned to Phasma. “Take them away.” Phasma marched the remaining three soldiers away, leaving two before Ren and Hux. “When will she be here?” Hux spoke directly.

“She won’t come until she has confirmation from us.” Eyes still downcast, voice still soft.

“Then I suppose it’s up to you to give her that confirmation.” Ren spoke again, his helmet turned towards the first woman, her calm upsetting him.

“I can’t do that.” Was the even reply that came from her. With an angry yell and a sweep of his arm, Ren sent the woman flying across the landing dock, her body hitting the stone cliff and falling to the ground.

Like two wolves closing in on dying prey, both Ren and Hux turned towards the last woman standing before them.

“If you want your soldiers and your queen to die, put up a fight. We have you surrounded. If you feel so inclined to save a life today, you’ll give us what we need and you’ll give it to us now.” Hux had a blaster trained on her and was close enough to intimidate the smaller woman with his height.

The woman glanced around, taking stock of the troops of First Order soldiers and aircrafts closing in on the space above.

“I’ll help you, if you can insure the safety of my queen and her escort.” Was her reply.

“We can talk about your requests once you’ve done your part.” Snarled Hux, taking her by the arm. “What signal?” He shoved her towards the communications panel. Hux set the channel to 732 after a grumble from the woman and waited for a transmission.

“Two minutes and closing, ready the ship for takeoff.” The station crackled to life, both Ren and Hux turning to the woman expectantly. Looking jumpy, the woman struggled to take the transmitter and respond.

“Repeat, one minute 45 seconds and closing, what’s your status?” A crackle. “Mar? Lin?” The transmitter lit up with each word.

Looking panicked, the woman turned to Hux with wide eyes. “I’m not the one who’s supposed to be answering.” She whispered

“It doesn’t matter, just get her here.” Hux hissed out in annoyance.

“Mar, what’s your status?” This time she gripped the transmitter and was able to speak over the radio.

“Your highness,” the woman spoke

“Lin what’s going on?” The breath was quick coming from the other end, winded.

“The- one of the engineers thought there was a problem with a fuel cell…” She let go of the button and let out a long sigh, looking between Ren and Hux. “We’ve prepared for takeoff your highness.”

“One minute 45 seconds and closing, be ready for takeoff.” From the sounds, whoever had the transmitter was on the run.

“Copy.” Was the terse reply. Hux, Ren and the woman waited as troops formed up around them, facing the trail that the queen would be coming down withing minutes. Hux felt almost unable to control the delight at capturing someone who could bring so much of the galaxy under the control of the First Order. And it had been too easy.

“Thirty seconds Lin, I don’t hear the engines you need to be ready!” Again, came the voice over the transmitter.

“We’re ready.” Sounding dead, the woman responded to the transmission with closed eyes.

“Hold formation!” Hux yelled and his soldiers snapped to position, waiting for whoever was going to come out of those trees.

[cerezsis]

Isn’t That Lovely?

Human AU

Summary: Spinel thinks she and Piper Damon are best friends. Piper hangs out with her because she has to. The two are separated when Piper’s dream of owning her own branch of the family business comes true, but Spinel is sure their friendship can survive the distance. Unfortunately, their friendship isn’t the only thing she’ll watch go up in flames.

WARNING: This story depicts severe mental illness, and the death of loved ones. Tread cautiously if you are bothered by either of those subjects.

--

           “Say hello to your new friend, Piper,” the white-haired woman said, her hands planted firmly on her daughter’s shoulders.

           The ten-year-old looked her new “friend” up and down. Spinel, the three-year-old girl who was already bouncing in excitement, wore tight pigtails, pink shorts, and a white shirt with a juice stain on the collar. Piper gave her best friendly smile. She supposed she should be happy that she wouldn’t have to spend the day alone in the estate or stuck coloring in the corner of an office, but it didn’t stop the dread brewing in her stomach.

           “Hello,” Piper greeted.

           The toddler ran up and gave her a tight hug. Piper hugged back, trying hard not to think about how sticky the younger girl’s hands felt against the back of her shirt.

           “I’m so excited to play with you!” Spinel said, eagerly.

           “Well, I certainly won’t keep you two waiting,” Winona said, lifting her hands from Piper’s shoulders, “I’ll pick you up around dinner time, Starlight.”

           Piper managed a grin at her mother. “Ok, mom.”

           Piper followed Spinel and Mrs. Desjardins out of the office building. She buckled herself in next to Spinel’s car seat, and stared out the window as the younger girl sang along to the children’s music CD that automatically started playing when Mrs. Desjardins started the car. As her head rested against the warm glass, she wondered why her mother couldn’t have had any employees with kids her own age.

The drive to the Desjardins residence wasn’t long, and Piper had to admit the house was beautiful. The paneling was painted a lovely cream color, and beautiful vines of pink flowers surrounded the black shutters. The bushes underneath the windows also sported flowers, and looked to be freshly trimmed. It was clear that the family took pride in their home’s appearance.

           “Come on!” Spinel said, happily grabbing onto Piper’s hand, “I’ll show you my playhouse!”

           Piper could hear Spinel’s mother chuckle as the little girl led her to the backyard. Passed the ivy-draped wooden fence, the backyard was full of even more flowers than the front. In the center of the many flowerbeds sat a brightly painted wooden swing set with an attached playhouse. Still holding onto her new friend’s hand, Spinel brought Piper into the playhouse, the older girl having to crouch down to fit through the toddler-sized doorway.

           “Ta-da!” Spinel said, finally releasing her sticky hand from Piper’s to raise her arms in presentation, “Welcome to my playhouse!”

           Still unable to stand up straight, Piper managed a smile. There was barely even enough room for the two of them to be in there together. “So, what do you wanna do?”

           Spinel tapped her finger on her chin, thinking through her options carefully. Her eyes widened with joy when the perfect game came to mind.

           “Oh! Oh! Let’s play tag!” She tapped the older girl on the shoulder. “You’re it!”

           Despite the cramped space, she managed to run out the door with ease, giggling in anticipation of the chase. Quietly wondering how long it was until dinner time, Piper put on her best game face and chased after Spinel.

           The girls played in the yard until Mrs. Desjardins called them in for lunch. As she ate her tater tots, Piper hoped Spinel was tired enough to want to watch TV or play with dolls, but once their plates were cleared, she insisted on a game of hide and seek in the backyard. Putting on another smile, Piper agreed to Spinel’s games.

Mr. Desjardins came home from the office shortly after Mrs. Desjardins got started on dinner. He came with the message that Piper’s mother would be late picking her up, and that she was to have dinner with them. Piper wondered to herself why she expected anything different from her mother. The Desjardins were happy to set her a place at the dinner table, and she thanked them when they handed her a plate of spaghetti. While the grownups chatted, Piper quietly winced as Spinel made a mess of her spaghetti dinner, getting sauce all over her face and shirt. Twirling spaghetti around her fork, Piper wondered if her sisters were having takeout again.

           By the time her mother came to collect her, it was almost nine o’clock. Winona gave the Desjardins an obligatory apology for being so late – something about backorders and a wrong color – but they assured her that it was fine, and Piper was a pleasure. As the adults took their time with their departure, Piper had her eyes locked on the door. Spinel, now dressed in her Micky Mouse pajamas, held tightly onto her hand, telling her that if she hid in her room, her mother wouldn’t be able to find her, and she wouldn’t have to go home. When Winona finally decided it was time to leave, Spinel threw herself onto the ground.

           “I don’t want her to go!” she cried.

After a few minutes of Spinel crying for Piper to stay, the situation had to be resolved by Mr. Desjardins carrying Spinel up to her room. A final goodbye to Mrs. Desjardins, and Winona and Piper were finally in the car, driving back to the estate.

           “Mrs. Desjardins told me about all the fun you had with Spinel today,” Winona said, her eyes on the road.

           “Yeah…” Piper said, leaning tiredly against the car door, “She’s… nice.”

           “Good, good,” Winona grinned, clearly not taking notice of her daughter’s apathetic tone, “I’ve arranged for you to play with her every weekday for the rest of the summer. Your sisters and I will take turns dropping you off and picking you up.”

           Piper stopped listening, and sank back into her seat. She stared out the window, watching the streetlights zoom by. All she could think about was Spinel’s sticky hands.

--

           It had been five years since Spinel and Piper’s first playdate. Autumn leaves danced in the window as Piper sat on the edge of the child-sized bed, venting about her latest fight with her mom and sisters. Spinel laid on her stomach, her head resting in her hands, and her legs kicking back and forth. The eight-year-old listened attentively to her cool, older friend, occasionally giving a nod in sympathy. Being so much younger, she couldn’t always relate to her problems, but she was still always there to listen. That’s what friends were for, after all.

           This week’s fight was once again about Piper’s role in the family’s business. Piper was on her usual rant about how Yvonne and Beatrix had their own branches when they were her age, and how it wasn’t fair that all she had was a few jewelry lines.

           “They treat me like a kid,” Piper complained, “How would they even know how responsible I am? I could handle running a business just fine. They never have any faith in me.”

           Spinel nodded. “You’d be the best boss ever! I bet when you finally get your branch, it’ll be the best branch they’ve ever seen!”

           Piper gave a half-smile. At least someone believed in her.

           A light ding came from the other side of the room. Spinel perked up.

           “Oh, the brownies are ready!” She got up and hurried to her Easy Bake Oven. “Here Piper, you can have the first one. Brownies make everything better.”

           “Thanks Spinel,” Piper said, still giving her a reserved smile, “I love brownies.”

--

           Spinel would never forget the look of excitement on Piper’s face when she gave her the news. At nineteen years old, she was finally getting her own branch of Damon’s Diamonds. Spinel couldn’t have been happier for her friend.

           Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She could’ve been happier if she could follow her to Maine, where her first warehouse and manufacturing plant would be located, but, as her parents reminded her, seventh grade came first.

           She wrote to Piper every day. Piper wrote back once every few months. It was ok. Running a business was a lot of work, especially when you have a group of anti-corporate protesters thwarting the process. Spinel would wait as long as it would take. She knew her best friend wouldn’t forget her.

--

           The summer before tenth grade, Spinel woke up to find both her parents in the kitchen. She knew something was wrong before she even saw their pink, puffy eyes. Daddy was never home this late in the morning.

           They broke the news to her as gently as possible. A fire had started in the on-site warehouse at Piper’s factory. It spread quickly to the main building, too quickly for Piper to escape her office. The fire took her life.  

           Spinel shook her head. It wasn’t true, it couldn’t be. Piper couldn’t be dead; she just couldn’t be!

           She spent most of the day sitting on the couch, staring into space. News came in in bits and pieces. Dry foliage. Smoke bombs. Lacks fire regulations. Chemicals not stored properly. All came together to form a perfect storm of chaos.

           At least a dozen people died in the blaze. Many more were injured. The number of casualties were still rising. Rose Quintin, the leader of the anti-corporate protesters, was thought to be responsible, but there wasn’t enough evidence for an arrest. Her current whereabouts were unknown.

           It was hours before Spinel finally cried. Her best friend was gone, her life cut short in one of the worst ways possible. Piper was dead.

           Piper was dead…

--

           Nearly Halloween that same year, daddy’s test results came back. Stage four lung cancer. Daddy didn’t make it to Christmas.

--

           A week after New Year’s, Spinel was called down to the principal’s office. A police officer was waiting for her. A car hit mommy as she was crossing the street. The car sped away. Mommy died in the ambulance.

--

           Eleventh grade didn’t last long. Spinel got expelled for repeated aggressive behavior. Once kicked out of school, she no longer had a reason to leave the house. The mortgage had been paid off long ago. Inheritance and life insurance payouts were enough for her to survive indefinitely. Groceries were delivered to the house every Tuesday. The farthest she ever ventured was to the mailbox at the end of the driveway.

           No one ever checked on her.

--

           She hadn’t remembered her twenty-seventh birthday until nearly a week had passed. Time always seemed to escape her like that.

           Today was what she considered a good day; the only thing she felt was hallow. It was a step up from anger or sadness, and way better than the crash that followed mania. Hallow was safe. Hallow was good.  

           Sitting on the old, rickety swing set, Spinel looked around the yard. The once beautiful landscape was now overrun weeds and overgrowth. Almost all the flowers were brown and shriveled. The ivy that mommy planted had completely taken over the fence and was creeping onto the graying exterior walls of the house.

           Without even thinking, Spinel stood up and wandered back into the house. A fine layer of dust coated every surface, as if no one had lived there for years. Glancing at the overflowing sink of dirty dishes, she struggled to remember if she’d eaten today. She didn’t have much of an appetite. She’d have to force something down the next time she remembered.

           Continuing through her untouched time capsule of a house, she let herself wander up the stairs. Her bedroom door had broken off during one of her fits a few years ago, now permanently propped up against the adjacent wall. The upstairs bathroom hadn’t been usable in five years. She found herself entering the master bedroom, formerly her parents’ room, and let herself fall onto the unmade bed. She wrapped herself in the old sheets and tried to fall asleep.

           It was three in the afternoon.

--

           Forty-three. She was forty-three years old. Had it not been for the date and time in the corner of the morning news program, she wouldn’t know what day it was. She didn’t usually watch this channel, but it had been airing a marathon of old cartoons two days ago. For some reason, the old back and white cartoons made her feel a sort of calm. She couldn’t be bothered to change the channel after it ended.

           She wasn’t really paying attention to the TV anymore, just lying on the couch and looking out the window. The neighborhood children were making their way to the bus stop, occasionally stopping in front of her house to talk and pint. If it weren’t for the glow of the TV through the otherwise dark window, they probably would’ve thought the place was abandoned.

Something on the TV made Spinel perk up. A morning talk show she missed the name of was starting, and the host was welcoming on that day’s guests. It was the Damon family.

           Spinel sat up straight, her eyes glued to the TV. She couldn’t remember the last time she saw all three of the Damon women together. Winona, Yvonne, and Beatrix sat in chairs on the opposite side of the host. Someone else sat with the three of them, someone Spinel didn’t recognize. A boy, maybe sixteen years old. The title card that appeared under him read “Steven Universe, teen activist.”

           Even with that introduction, Spinel still had no idea who this kid was, or why he was with the Damon’s. She listened intently as Winona Damon began weaving a tale about all the changes Steven helped them make to the company, and how she’s confident that other corporations will follow their lead. It honestly sounded lovely, even if she didn’t know who this Steven kid was. He was obviously very passionate about the reform of corporate America.

           “My grandson here is the most compassionate person you’ll ever meet,” the elderly Winona said, smiling proudly, “All of Damon’s Diamonds are so happy to have him-”

           Spinel stopped listening, her head suddenly spinning with questions. Her grandson? Whose kid was he? Yvonne and Beatrix had always stated their intentions to remain child free, and Piper… Piper was…

           That’s when it clicked. The curly hair, the dark eyes, the smile. It was hers. It was all hers. But, no, that was impossible! Piper died too young to have a sixteen-year-old son… Unless…

           Spinel darted up from the couch and sprinted to the dining room, where decades worth of mail was piled onto the table. She rarely paid attention to what she brought in from the mailbox, just tossing it onto the table. Maybe she missed something. A letter, a postcard, any kind of message from Piper. She could still hear the TV as she meticulously went through every parcel.

           “I don’t want to be put on a throne for doing the right thing,” Steven said in response to a question from the host, “The world doesn’t need billionaires. I couldn’t spend that much money in a lifetime.

           “In fact, I’m not even going to be staying in New York for much longer. I’m heading back to Beach City tonight.”

           All noise after that faded to static as Spinel continued through the mail. She spent hours, maybe even a full day going through everything. She found nothing, no secret message, nothing from Piper. Tears stung in Spinel’s eyes as she looked to all the mail scattered around her. Through the various newspapers and magazine headlines she came across in her search, she’d managed to piece together the story. Piper faked her death in the fire. Rose Quintin, the woman who supposedly killed her, never existed. Piper was Rose. Piper set fire to her own warehouse and factory, ran off with a few friends to Delaware, and started a new life under the name Rose Quintin. She died for real sixteen years ago, after giving birth to her son, Steven. Going off the dates printed, it looked like the story first broke two years ago, after Steven first found out the truth about his mother. Spinel fell to her knees, her fists clenching around whatever mail was in front of her. The one spark of hope she’d had in years was violently stomped out as the realization that Piper had no intention of letting her know she was alive consumed her.

           Piper didn’t die in the fire. Piper lived an extra twelve years, and didn’t think to tell her best friend. Piper didn’t die in the fire. Piper didn’t die in the fire.

           Her body shaking, heart pounding, and tears flowing, Spinel felt something snap inside her. The mail she had in her hands was shredded into confetti as she started to scream. Furniture was thrown as she screamed until her throat burned. Gears turned in her head, powered by the hot fires of rage. She wanted revenge, she needed revenge, but Piper was dead, for real this time. It didn’t matter. Someone was going to pay. Someone was going to feel as much pain as she felt.

           She couldn’t quite remember what happened between throwing a chair through the TV screen and getting on a plane to Delaware, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care.