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lokislastlove · 4 years ago

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Come One, Come All (dark!Loki x reader)

Summary: A girls night out to the fair takes an insidious turn.

Warnings: Noncon/Rape, knife play, oral (m&f), smut, bondage, kidnapping.

This is a dark fic! 18+ ONLY! Explicit Adult content. Please READ THE WARNINGS! Do not continue if these matters upset you!

Authors Note: I wrote another one! No idea where this came from, but it was fun to write. Still working on improving my smut, huge thanks to @darkficsyouneveraskedfor for some tips and editing the shit out of it. 😘 also I know there is a creepy clown in the pic but I feel like I have to say there aren’t any clowns in the fic. I hate clowns.

Chapter 1:

It was the kind of summer night you dream about, warm enough to keep you comfortable in your shorts and peasant top, but with a light breeze that keeps you cool enough to fight the flush of alcohol in your veins. You look forward to these moments when you are able to go out with your girlfriends and let loose, forgetting about all life’s responsibilities, if just for a single night.

“Come on!” Ash calls over her shoulder, her hand tight around your wrist pulling you impatiently.

“Aww but that looks so good” you groan as you press your face longingly against the glass barrier of the hand dipped corn dog cart.

The sweet scent of the frying corn dough wafts tantalizingly through the air making your mouth water. You friends laugh at your theatrics, having just helped you scarf down a large sugary funnel cake and a platter of nachos, the evidence of which still stains the corner of your mouth. Really, it was their fault for getting you tipsy before taking you to the county fair, everything just smelled heavenly and if you could you would try one of everything.

“Just a slushee?!” You beg as Jen steps behind you and pushes you out of the food court, giggling the entire time.

“Come on, fight the drunchies! You promised you would try that new funhouse,” Jen whines, looping her arm through yours, Ash doing the same on the other side.

“Oh yeah,” you grumble.

“Oh stop it” Ash scolds playfully. “Everyone at work keeps talking about it - it’s like a mini escape room! And I’ve always wanted to do one, please.” She rants excitedly before giving you her best puppy dog eyes.

“Ugh that’s cheating. No one can resist those big brown eyes” you pout, but yield as easily as they knew you would.

“I know” Ash smirks, tossing back her long silky black hair over her slender shoulder.

“This is gonna be so much fun, I promise” Jen bumps your hip, giving you a wide encouraging smile.

You manage a strained grin as you let them lead you through the crowd. It’s not that you don’t like funhouses or the idea of doing an escape room, having always loved solving riddles and doing puzzles. It’s just you don’t like clowns, and every funhouse in your experience has at least one.

“Oh damn there’s a line!” Jen moans as you all stop in front of a large structure covered in flashing lights, the ominous ‘Tricksters Trap’ bathing your face in a violent red glow.

Garish contrasting colors somehow both attract your eye and make it hard to look at. Your pupils dilate with the lines of fluorescent bulbs burning into your retinas. The stereotypical circus music blares through the cheap speakers, reminding you of one of those old Jack in the box toys. And of course, without fail, was the obligatory clown statue hanging over the entrance, like some creepy sentinel there to guide you to your inevitable demise.

“Ugh fucking clowns” you grimace as you pass by the entrance, heading toward the end of the line.

“Yeah they definitely nailed the creep factor,” Jen agrees, her eyes shining with nervous excitement.

“I know isn’t it great?!” Ash squeals.

You stand there taking in the horrific detailing painted on the side of the metal structure. You are thankful when Ash explains there is a time limit, only ten minutes to complete the puzzle or else they kick you out and you have to try again. If you figure out the puzzle you get to leave through the mirror maze and you earn the coveted “I tricked the Trickster” sticker.

“Gotta get that sticker, or else that bitch Katie at work will never let me forget that she got one and I didn’t” Ash complains, causing you and Jen to share a look and snicker.

“Hey! Don’t laugh, this is serious! We gotta be smart and figure this out, failure is not an option” she urges dramatically before collapsing into drunken giggles with you and Jen.

“You ladies seem eager to prove yourselves,” slithers a low voice.

Startled you gasp and spin around quickly. The three of you look up at the tall lean figure standing behind you. He wears a perfectly tailored black ensemble, that matches the color of his slicked back hair. His eyes practically glow green against his alabaster complexion. His sharp cheekbones and angular jaw make your breath hitch, causing his thin lips to curve into a sinister smirk. He is stunning.

“Um, yeah. Well this place has the whole town buzzin’. Seems like everyone is talking about it” Jen is the first to speak.

“Ah I see. Wouldn’t want to miss your chance to take a stab at it” the mysterious man surmised, eyes focused on you.

“We got this shit. Right guys?” Ash assures him as she playfully smacks you and Jen.

“Well, I guess we’ll find out. Good luck,” he challenges with a raise of a brow.

You stare after him as he saunters away without another word. His hips and shoulders sway smoothly, his soft footsteps giving him a dangerous almost feline vibe, like he could rival even the most deadly of predators. As he turns to round the corner of the ride he takes one last look over his shoulder at you. Your eyes lock for only a fraction of a second but it’s enough to send a chill down your spine.

“That was weird, right?” You mutter, eyes still transfixed where he disappeared.

“Eh, just another creepy dude. If I had a nickel for every weirdo who tries to chat me up…” Jen jokes.

“You’d have like a whole 50 cents,” sasses Ash.

You are finally broken from your daze when Ash is pushed into you. You laugh and try to brush off the lingering effect of the handsome stranger, shifting your focus back to your friends. The line goes by quicker than expected, with only one group out of the three ahead of you making it out with stickers. The losing groups return to the line from a back door, bickering about where they went wrong.

Finally it is your turn. Ash claps her hands excitedly, dancing up the metal stairs to the costumed man at the entrance. His red and white stripped suit is expertly torn and painted with fake blood to make him look as intimidating as possible. With a tip of his top hat he welcomes the three of you and begins to explain the rules in his well practiced accent.

“Come one come all to the Tricksters Trap, if you’re feeling lost, just go find the map.” He sings with flair and a perfectly timed bow, directing you to the inauspicious black door.

Taking a deep breath you follow your squealing friends into the darkened hallway. Pausing to look back as the door creaks shut, cutting off the jovial sounds of laughter and chatter with a sudden slam. You flinch at the loud noise and turn back to the dim hallway. The short corridor is lined with wall to wall green velvet curtains barely visible with the green rope lights running along the ceiling.

“Guys?” You whisper when you don’t see them next to you, causing your heart rate to quicken

You call for them again, this time louder, your feet unwilling to move from the spot. It has only been thirty seconds and you are already about to call it quits. Get a grip. You take a hesitant step forward.

“You guys?!” You call shakily.

“Hey! Come on we found the map!” Jen pokes her head from around the corner at the end of the hall.

She disappears just as quickly, waving her arm for you to follow. You breathe a sigh of relief and rush after her. You enter a large room filled with all sorts of random objects. It’s as if it is designed to overload your senses. The green from the hall carried on into the room, more velvet green curtains hung on the walls that were not obstructed by shelves of books or other oddities. You saw everything from perfectly aligned glass jars filled with alien looking creatures, grandfather clocks, to treasure chests overflowing with grizzled toys.

Jen and Ash are hunched over a table with a map spread out smoothly. It was easy enough to see it was a map of the room and hallway, with what appeared to be three small rooms hidden along the wall behind the heavy green drapery. You go over and pull back a curtain and find a locked door, the other two also hiding a locked door.

“Ok so it looks like we gotta find a way to open these doors” you offer, your anxiety calming a bit as you focus on the mystery at hand.

“Hey look there is some sort of code over here by the lock on the door.” Ash hollers excitedly.

You each pick a door code and frantically search the room. It doesn’t take long for you to figure out you need to use the books on the large shelf along one wall. The first number tells you the book the second refers to a specific page. You find a slip of paper in the book with a riddle written in a blood red ink.

“I make two people out of one” You read aloud.

“You can hold me in one hand, but I’m used to fill the room” Ash reads hers, her face twisting in concentration.

You both look to Jen, “I have two hands, but I can’t clap.”

“Damn no wonder so many people failed, definitely wish I wasn’t drunk right now” Ash laughs.

“No no we can do this, it’s probably items in the room so let’s just focus. We’ll do one at a time.” You assert, pacing the room and trying to take in all the random objects.

“Two hands…” you mutter as you stop in front of a large grandfather clock. “Clocks have hands!” You yell excitedly and open the narrow door.

The heavy pendulums swing inside and you see a shining silver glint off the rounded golden end. You pull off the small silver key, stuck on by a tiny magnet, and jump in excitement.

“Holy crap! You’re a genius!” Jen exclaims running over to take the key and try it in the door.

The key slides in smoothly and the door opens with a gratifying click.

“Woo! Keep going, you are on a roll!” Ash claps as she cheers you on.

“Ok, ok” you giggle before taking a deep breath. “Two people out of one… maybe a camera? Or wait…” you realize as you stare at Ash currently checking her makeup in an antique mirror hung between two curtains.

“Ash! Try pulling on that mirror!” You yell pointing frantically at the mirror in front of her.

Her brows knit together briefly before understanding, grabbing the frame and tugging gently until it swings open, revealing a key hung on the wall.

“Yes!” You all shriek together.

Suddenly, the lights flicker and a loud maniacal cackle reverberates through the surround sound speaker, turning your elation into yelps of surprise.

“Two minutes left” a familiar polished voice echoes forebodingly throughout the room.

“Shit, that scared the crap out of me” Jen laughs clutching at her chest.

The warning gives you pause, managing to shift the spirit of the whole room. Ash giggles nervously as she watches the lights of the room transition from their previous dim yellow light to a menacing red hue. The mood lighting in addition to the increasing volume of the horror soundtrack playing over the speaker helps to put you back into your initial anxious state.

“Seriously? Is this fucking necessary?” You curse, shaking your head.

“Ok let’s get the last one guys! We can still do this!” Jen yells through the cacophony of sound effects.

“Yeah what can we fit in our hand but somehow also fills the room?” Ash reiterated the final riddle.

“These red lights make it so much harder to see” Jen complains bitterly as she rummages through the items inside a large chest.

“Lights… Jen that’s it! A lightbulb!” A smile breaks out on your face as you figure out the final clue.

“Look up there!” Ash points to a solitary darkened light bulb screwed into the ceiling.

“I got it.” Jen jumps onto the table and reaches up, unscrewing it quickly. “There is a key inside!” She shouts.

She unscrews the bottom of the fake lightbulb and received the key before handing it to Ash. Each of you run over to the corresponding doors and turn the key, squealing in delight when they all slide open.

“Is that it?” Jen asks looking into the cramped dark space behind the door.

It was little more than a closet. Barely enough room for each of you to stand in. You were at a loss. You could have sworn that would be the end.

“Guys there is a lever here on the back wall of mine, how about yours?” Ash’s muffled voice calls from inside her closet.

“Oh yeah mine too!” Jen replies.

“Do you think we have to pull them at the same time? ‘Cus mine did nothing when I tried it” Ash says poking her head out to look at you.

“Thirty seconds!” That haunting voice booms again as a tick clock sounds through the speakers, counting down your final moments.

“Ok let’s try it together!” You nod at both of them, before stepping into the tight dark space.

“THREE! TWO! ONE!” You shout, mirroring your friends calls, pulling down your lever with a snap.

There is a moment of silence as the lights of the room behind you suddenly go dark, the music and sound effects cutting off instantly.

“Did we get it?!” You yell.

You don’t get the chance to hear your friends response as the wood door slams behind you, locking you into the small space.

Tags: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @caffiend-queen

#dark fic #dark Loki #dark loki x reader #tom hiddleston #come one come all

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yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years ago

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a little unconventional (part one)

[foster au]

this is set in America because i don't know how Romania works

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rapture rising

“Alcina, my beloved sister, are you sure all of this is necessary?”

Alcina shot a glare over her shoulder at her toddling younger brother, who she was making carry in several boxes full of various items into one of the many rooms in her mansion. This one wasn’t one of the bedrooms, but rather a temporary storage room for all the things she had recently bought. She was going to have everything set up for the children to choose from when they eventually arrived. Just thinking about them getting to pick out their bedsheets and paint for their new rooms made a smile come to her lips, excitement rushing through her like dozens of butterflies flying for the first time.

…And then her idiot brother bumped into the doorframe and caused an avalanche of boxes to come down on top of him.

“Be careful!” Alcina barked, whirling around to him. She bent down to start picking the boxes up. “You’re lucky there was nothing fragile in here.”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” Heisenberg grunted, rubbing his head.

“And to answer your questions, dearest brother, yes, this is all very necessary,” Alcina said. “I need this to be perfect for them. This may be the first time those little girls get a real home.”

“Inflating your ego, aren’t you?”

Alcina stepped on his foot.

“I have the paints.” Moreau, Alcina’s other brother, shuffled inside, holding several cans of paint on his arms. If they were hurting him, he didn’t say anything. He seemed pleased with himself for being so useful.

“Thank you, Sal,” Alcina said. She took the cans from him and placed them against the wall. “Yellow, green, red, blue, pink, purple… Do you think that’s enough? What if they want, like, a mauve room?”

“Mauve?” Heisenberg echoed as he was crow hopping on one foot, still recovering from being stomped on.

“It’s a shade of purple,” Moreau supplied.

“I know what mauve is, asshole,” Heisenberg hissed. “I was just saying.”

“And I’m just saying, what if they want a lighter-colored room?” Alcina said. “This purple is dark. Should I go buy more?”

“You could mix white into the paint?” Moreau suggested.

Alcina thought it over, then nodded. “Yes, I could do that. Good idea.”

“Who wants a mauve bedroom, anyway?” Heisenberg muttered.

“Alcina!” A fourth voice echoed throughout the house, and Alcina’s sister entered the room. Donna looked uncharacteristically bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. She was clutching something in her hands. “Alcina, I have finished them!”

“When did you get here?” Heisenberg looked at her.

“Just now,” Donna said. “It doesn’t matter. Look!”

A beautiful doll was presented to Alcina. It was hand-stitched and dressed with great care. All the little details, down to the freckles and shiny eyes, were incredibly-made, and Alcina couldn’t help but pick it up tentatively, as though she were afraid of accidentally destroying it.

“Oh, Donna,” she said. “It’s beautiful! Thank you.”

Donna beamed. “I have also made stuffed animals and toy clothes for them. An entire wardrobe, in fact. Many selections.”

“Damn,” Heisenberg looked impressed. “Toys dress better than I do.”

“We know,” the other three said in sync, eyeing his ratty trenchcoat and old cowboy hat that he insisted on wearing everywhere.

“You weren’t supposed to agree!” Heisenberg barked like one of his dogs.

“Shouldn’t have said anything,” Alcina shrugged daintily. She looked back at Donna and smiled. “Thank you, Donna. I really appreciate your support. I appreciate all of your support. Even yours, Karl.”

“Sure, sure…” Heisenberg said, though Alcina didn’t miss the glint of fondness in his eyes.

“This is so exciting,” Donna said. “It’s a wonderful thing you’re doing, Alcina. Do you remember when we were all adopted by Mother?”

Heisenberg snorted. “I remember being kidnapped as a child and held for ransom, and then being one of the abduction victims to be actually found alive, only to discover that my parents had been killed while trying to get me back, to which I was then thrown into a home with you three.”

Donna winced. “Not…quite what I had in mind.”

“And you say ‘you three’ like we weren’t your best friends growing up,” Moreau pointed out idly, not looking at Heisenberg as he was helping unload some of the boxes. That one in particular held a wide selection of different bed sheets, ranging from leopard print to floral to plain blue.

Heisenberg raised his nose and huffed. “Well. Still.”

Alcina shook her head with a warm smile.

She vividly remembered life with her adoptive mother, Miranda, and her three other siblings. She was reborn from ash and flame after her old family estate burned down to the ground, smoldering the life she used to have and taking her parents with it. Yes, she could still smell the smoke, taste the embers on her tongue, even now, thirty-five years later. She was so small back then, only nine years old when the fire started, and she watched her home crumble to pieces right before her teary eyes. She thought it was over, that she had nothing, that she was going to be alone forever without her mother and father, but then a woman in a black cowl whisked her up into tender arms and took her under her wing as though she were the chicken to a nurturing mother bird.

She was the first of Miranda’s ragtag rascal children with harsh upbringings. For two years, it was just the both of them, reading books and watching movies in a beautiful countryside manor that quickly became her new home. Though the wounds had still been raw, the burns were very fresh, Miranda filled the void in her heart that her parents’ death left behind, extinguishing that eternal fire of survivor guilt and mourning.

And then the others came along.

At the time, Alcina had been rather indignant at the idea of having siblings. She was an only child with her birth family and she preferred to stay an only child with her new one, too, but she never voiced this opinion to Miranda. She grinned and bore it, even if it meant losing the attention of her mother.

Though, they didn’t end up being that bad…

The first of the “intruders” as she used to call them was Salvatore Moreau, a boy her age, though three months younger, and with a story similar to her own. He had been in a car crash after his drunken father got into a pretty nasty collision. The engine caught fire and it wasn’t long until the rest of the car followed. Moreau was trapped in the inferno, but managed to get out, running towards a nearby lake to extinguish the flames that were trying to make him its newest pyre. Unfortunately, the event left him badly burned, the scar still lingering all these years later, and nobody wanted to take in such a “disfigured child.” Miranda, however, stepped up to the challenge and fostered the boy, eventually adopting him fully later on.

Alcina was, admittedly, rather uneased by her new brother’s appearance at first, but she quickly got accustomed to him, even protective. There were several moments in school where she verbally (and sometimes even physically) pummeled any kids who dared to make fun of him, drilling into the bullies that he was not to be messed with while she was around. Some of her best retributions were when she threatened to leak unwarranted dick pics to the entire school, as it wasn’t uncommon for horny teenage boys to try to get into her pants, and that always shut them up quickly, especially when she loudly proclaimed details on their pathetic excuse for a penis, like the size and shape.

She and Moreau grew close rather quickly, much quicker than Miranda had been expecting. They both enjoyed more mellow things, like reading books and going on walks through the forest. Moreau was the sole reason she passed any English assignments done on Shakespearean literature, as he actually knew how to discern the confusing text, while she had to reread the same page over and over again to simply get a loose grasp on the grammar. He enjoyed cheesy romcoms, birdwatching, and swimming, the last of which he had a strong affinity for because of how the lake beside the car wreck very well could have been the only reason he survived. Now, he owned that very lake and made it into a popular fishing and boating destination for locals and tourists alike.

The second to arrive was Donna Beneviento, when Alcina and Moreau were both twelve. She was a full five years younger than the two of them and didn’t talk very often, at least for a good chunk of the first year she was there. She was put into the foster program after her parents commit suicide, leaving her with nothing but anxiety, trauma-induced selective muteness, and a doll named Angie.

It took time, but Donna eventually started opening up. First to Miranda, and then to Alcina and Moreau. Alcina strongly remembered a time when her little sister came to her room during a thunderstorm, lips quivering, tears glistening in her eyes, Angie clutched in a vice from her thin arms. She didn’t say anything, just stared from the doorway, whimpering and shivering.

“Alright,” Alcina had sighed. She flipped open her comforter, welcoming Donna. “Come on.”

Donna had brightened and skittered into the bed, snuggling right up against Alcina’s side. Alcina didn’t mind and resumed the book she had been reading before--Animal Farm, she believed. Donna pointed at the pages and then looked up at her curiously.

“Oh, this?” Alcina had said. “It’s called Animal Farm. It’s about these talking farm animals overthrowing their farmer to gain freedom, only to then be ruled by a communist pig.”

Donna blinked. “What’s a communist?”

“Well, you see…”

Her late-night explanation was certainly aided by the fact that they were in the middle of the Cold War at the time.

Overtime, Donna slowly grew out of her shell. Though she was still soft-spoken and reserved, she was also very kind-hearted and incredibly creative, which she showed through paintings, arts and crafts, and doll making. She would make dolls out of anything she could find--wood, thread, clay--so it made sense when she eventually became a toymaker once she grew up.

Finally, there was Karl Heisenberg when Alcina and Moreau were thirteen and Donna was eight. Right from the start, he was a loud, spitfire ten-year-old that broke the serene silence that used to hang over Miranda’s estate. He caused a great amount of mischief and mayhem, though Alcina would later discover it was to hide the fact that he was deeply traumatized by what exactly had happened to make him a foster child.

Even now, so many years later, Alcina still didn’t know the full story. Miranda said it wasn’t her tale to share and Heisenberg simply didn’t like talking about it very much. But from what she did know, Heisenberg used to belong to an incredibly wealthy business owner that ruled over their company with an iron fist. Due to the harshness his parents inflicted on their employees, it caused the workers to revolt against the abuse. A certain group took this way too far and kidnapped Heisenberg, holding him for ransom so they could get better treatment and pay at their work. Something ended up happening during the time between Heisenberg being held hostage and his parents paying up, and it left his mother and father in a way that he could never bring himself to explain. She only got snippets of the brutality of their deaths through brief moments when he would come to after vicious nightmares, one of which she actually stepped in to stop when she heard him struggling one night.

“Their heads, Alci,” Heisenberg had gasped, clawing manically for a desperate grasp on her arms, his body jerking and spasming in terror as his nightmare was still releasing his small, twelve-year-old body. “Their heads-- their brains were--” And then he stopped and keeled into her chest, sobbing in a way Alcina had never seen him do before in the two years he was living with her before that moment. Despite her occasional vex towards the boy, he was still her little brother and she was still his big sister, so she had wrapped her arms around him and held him close while he trembled and cried.

She never did find out what Heisenberg meant by “their heads,” but she had a hunch. Still, she never asked.

Nowadays, Heisenberg ran his own factory, where he treated his employees the way his parents should have treated theirs, learning from their mistakes. He also fostered all different kinds of dog breeds until they found their forever homes and rescued the more ‘vicious’ ones, like pit bulls and rottweilers, all of which he treated like royalty.

A freakishly tall girl, a burned boy, a selective mute, and a dog lover… They certainly weren’t the epitome of the stereotypical nuclear family, but they were family through and through, if not by blood, then by bloodshed.

“Do you guys remember the time Karl tried to clean the dishwasher with Kool-Aid?” Donna reminisced with a giggle.

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” Heisenberg said.

“Absolutely not,” Donna grinned at him.

“I still don’t know how you came to the conclusion that that would work,” Alcina shook her head.

Heisenberg threw his arms up into the air. “John said it did!”

“John also tried to steal a school urinal.”

“Also, you’re supposed to take all of the dishes out before you try to clean it with Kool-Aid,” Moreau spoke up. “You left all of the pots and plates and silverware in it.”

“And he didn’t even put it in the right spot!” Alcina joined, cackling. “You’re supposed to put the powder in the detergent dispenser. Karl, you just poured it out all over the dishes!”

“It wasn’t even the right powder,” Donna put in. “You’re supposed to strictly use unsweetened lemonade only. You used tropical punch!”

Alcina, Donna, and Moreau all burst into laughter, while Heisenberg crossed his arms and glared at them.

“John never specified any of that!” he blustered.

“Never trust John, dear,” Alcina tittered.

“Well, it happened!” Heisenberg said. “It’s over! What other boxes do you need to move!”

More laughter.

“I’m serious! I’ll get the boxes! Also WHAT IS THAT.”

They all turned to see a patchy tortoiseshell cat lazily strolling into the room with them. It looked like it had been run over, dismembered, run over again, and then put back together by a blind surgeon, but it held itself like it was the most pristine lion to ever walk the earth. It glanced over at the four siblings, meowed at them, then continued on its stroll to one of the empty boxes, which it jumped into and made itself comfortable inside.

“It’s a cat,” Donna said as if it should have been obvious, earning a snort from Moreau and then a glare from Heisenberg.

“It’s not funny,” Moreau said quickly after Heisenberg glared at him, too, but it was obvious Heisenberg’s leer was all in good fun.

“No, no. Tom from Tom and Jerry is a cat,” Heisenberg said. “THAT is an overgrown street rat.”

“Well, one could assume the same about you, but you don’t see us pointing it out,” Donna said breezily.

Another bout of laughter, this time with Heisenberg included.

“Okay, okay, you got me there,” Heisenberg said.

“Must you insist on reacting the same way every single time you see Tea Cake?” Alcina finally spoke up through the playful bickering. She crouched down next to the cat and stroked its back, which caused it to purr in content.

“It’s my trademark,” Heisenberg said with a shrug. “That old woman is still alive?”

“And kicking,” Alcina smiled fondly at her pet.

Tea Cake had been with her for a long fourteen years, witnessing more than a few existential crises and drunken concerts put on to chase off her lurking PTSD. That cat came during the worst part of her life, and Alcina owed everything to that little beast. She learned how to laugh and smile and genuinely feel again, not hide behind the facade that she was a strong, powerful woman who could take on everything and come out without a scratch.

And, yes, Alcina had known- still knew, that she had Miranda and her siblings, but sometimes they were not enough, not back then, not when she was filled with so much shame and self-hatred and disgust. Animals were different in a way people couldn’t be. Animals didn’t lie, they didn’t judge or think about how messed up you were in their heads. They didn’t share your secrets or give you false hope. They just--be there. They listened and lent their presence and, sometimes, that was all that was needed, and some people didn’t seem to understand that.

Tea Cake’s fur had dried more of Alcina’s tears than anyone else ever had because she never let them fall in front of others. Tea Cake didn’t get upset when Alcina touched her; she didn’t understand the concept of emotional trauma and sexual harassment and body image issues. She just cared, even if she didn’t quite get it.

Alcina would probably be dead if it weren’t for her.

Yes, she remembered that fateful night… The wind in her shaggy hair she hadn’t washed in days, the moonglow on her ashen skin, the tears burning in her eyes--all of it was so clear, even now. She remembered how horribly, hopelessly depressed she had been and how she drove out to a field with a note on the dashboard and a gun in the passenger seat.

At the time, nothing had helped her. Her antidepressants weren’t working, going out only made her feel unsafe, and her family’s presence no longer brought her comfort and happiness, rather guilt and shame. The only thing that ever helped was when she drowned herself in the alcohol she made for a living, drinking away her despair and trauma until her body tingled and the phantom hands went away. She was surprised her liver never exploded inside of her during those awful few months.

She had sat in her car for a while, leaning her head on the steering wheel and wallowing in silence and darkness. Then, she got out, made sure the note was visible, and grabbed the gun.

She considered calling or texting her mother and siblings, but that would make it hurt worse. It was better to leave them with their last memories of her than to have this sudden news of a goodbye that they wouldn’t be able to stop.

She placed the pistol’s barrel in her mouth and rested her finger on the trigger. Her life didn’t flash before her eyes like some movies or books say it did, and she was quite thankful for it. She didn’t want to relive the agony she had been put through that led her up to that point. She just shut her eyes as tight as possible in preparation for the bullet to pass through her brain…

Then, there was a rustling from the grass nearby.

Alcina hesitated. The metallic taste of the gun left her tongue and she looked in the direction of the noise.

“Hello?” she had called out in her best possible not-about-to-kill-herself voice.

A tiny meow answered her.

“Your roadkill wants you,” Heisenberg’s voice cut through the daze that had momentarily descended upon Alcina’s mind.

Blinking, Alcina realized that Tea Cake was gnawing on her finger and meowing. She smiled.

“It’s probably dinner time,” Alcina said. She stood up straight. “Come on, children. I have news to share.”

Curious, her three younger siblings followed her out of the room and to her kitchen, Tea Cake padding after them eagerly. Her house was a beautiful creation of the finest wood and the most luxurious stonework. Top-of-the-line appliances filled the space and every little detail, down to the hanging droplets on the chandelier and the grooves in the staircase railing, were customized to her preference. 6 bedrooms, 9 bathrooms, 17,182 square feet, 14.99 acres filled by lush vineyards, and $5,500,000 later, and you had the Dimitrescu Estate.

And it was a barren prison.

It had always been there, ever since she moved in: that lingering loneliness that seemed to shroud every hallway. She had so much space, but nobody to fill it. Nobody except herself, Tea Cake, and her maids, of course. Lying awake one night, thinking about this issue as she often did, a solution had finally come to her.

After pouring some wet food into Tea Cake’s food bowl, Alcina grabbed a bottle of sweet butter wine out of her wine fridge and poured a glass for herself and each of her siblings, all of which were staring at her curiously. After taking a long sip, she finally began: “As you all know, I have plans to foster a child. And I greatly appreciate all of the support you three have provided me up until now.”

“Is this an award ceremony or something?” Heisenberg joked light-heartedly. “Can I have the award for most boxes carried? I think I deserve that one.”

“You mean most boxes dropped?” Donna giggled, earning her a playful poke in the side.

“No, it is not an award ceremony,” Alcina glared at Heisenberg without any fire in her gaze. She opened up a drawer in the stainless kitchen island they were gathered around. “Though, this may very well be an award…” She pulled out a blue folder packed full of papers and set it on the marble countertop, grinning brightly. “I just wanted to let you all know first that my training is done. I’ve completed all the classes.” Her heart swelled in her heart as she spoke her next words: “I’m a foster mom now.”

All at once, her younger siblings lit up brighter than the sun’s supernova, throwing their arms up into the air and letting out a celebratory shout. Donna and Moreau even raced around the island to hug Alcina, which she returned with a laugh.

“Oh, that’s so wonderful, Alcina!” Donna said, squeezing her with surprising strength. “I’m so happy for you!”

“Me too,” Moreau agreed.

“Sal, are you crying?”

“No!” Moreau yelped, then sniffled. “I just have something in my eye, that’s all.”

“You mean tears?” Heisenberg teased. He then looked at Alcina. “That’s amazing, Alcina. I’m really happy for you. You deserve this.”

“Aww,” Alcina crooned. “Is my little brother going soft?”

Heisenberg instantly steeled himself. “Me? No way! I was just saying what you would want to hear.”

Still being embraced on either side by her other brother and sister, Alcina chuckled. “I see.”

“Do you know your placement yet?” Donna asked, looking up at Alcina as though she were a child again.

“Placements,” Alcina corrected. She couldn’t help but grin again as she spoke of her future children. “Two. I’m getting two little girls.”

“Aww!” Donna and Moreau both cooed.

Heisenberg was nodding. “Girls. Yes. I can do girls.” He looked up at Alcina. “I’m getting them a puppy.”

“Oh, you don’t have--”

“I’m getting them a puppy,” Heisenberg said again, and it was clear he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

Alcina chuckled. “Alright. A puppy it is.”

Donna and Moreau began to join in on plans for being the greatest aunt and uncle, with Moreau saying that they needed to come to his lake for a swim and Donna listing off all the toys she would make for them. Alcina listened to them with a fond smile, happy to have such a supportive family. This was exactly what her daughters were going to need.

Daughters.

Just thinking about that word made her heart flutter in her chest. Her grin turned giddy. She was going to be a mother soon.

As she sipped from her wine glass, she thought about her placements. She had gotten the call four days ago and was scheduled to meet the little ones in the next two weeks. She could still hear her caseworker’s words in her ears during the conversation as she recalled it to her siblings.

“The first is named Daniela,” Duke had said. He was a studious, patient man with a warm smile and hands like chipmunk paws, keen on helping Alcina ever since she started her training to become a foster parent six months ago. “She’s a little girl and eleven years old. Her parents have, unfortunately, recently died due to a car crash. Her living relatives are unfit to take care of her, so she’s been placed into the foster system. Right now, she’s staying with her aunt and uncle, but she cannot be kept there much longer because of, ah…jealousy issues with their actual child.

The second is named Cassandra. Another girl, this one twelve years old. She’s been in the foster program ever since she was a baby when she was given up, as she was born from a teenager who couldn’t take care of her. She’s had…quite a few foster homes, all of which had given her up to someone else due to…issues. I understand if you don’t want to take this child. She’s been known to cause problems in her houses and pick fights. There is-- woo, that’s a lot of complaints… There are some notes on her left by her former families and-- Goddamn. They’re writing of her like she’s a monster or something…”

“Of course, I couldn’t turn down either of them,” Alcina concluded her retelling. “Especially the second one. Cassandra. The poor thing sounds like she needs a good home.”

“You’re so sweet, Alci,” Donna said, smiling at her.

“Think you can handle it?” Heisenberg asked. “I’m not doubting your abilities, but from what you said about the kid… Well, she just sounds difficult.”

“You were difficult,” Alcina said, grinning at him. “And everything turned out just fine, didn’t it?”

Her youngest brother’s concern didn’t diminish. “Yes, but… I don’t want anything to happen to you or my niece.”

Alcina, Donna, and Moreau all cooed. Heisenberg huffed.

“Oh, shut it! I have a heart!”

“You do,” Alcina’s smile lightened slightly. “But don’t worry: everything will be okay. I can do this. I need to do this. Those two little girls need a mother.”

Heisenberg considered her for a moment, then nodded. He smiled at her. “You’ve got a good heart, Alcina,” he said. “If you ever need any help, I’m here.”

“Me too!” Donna joined in.

“Me three!” Moreau piped up.

Alcina laughed. “Thank you. Really. This means a lot to me. Now…” She raised her glass. “Let’s drink before we have to cut back because there will be children around!”

Her siblings laughed and mimicked her gesture.

Alcina couldn’t wait.

#foster au #resident evil au #resident evil fanfic #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #karl heisenberg #donna beneviento #salvatore moreau #mother miranda #dimitrescu daughters #a little unconventional

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izaswritings · 3 years ago

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Title: who we are in the aftermath

Fandom: The Owl House

Synopsis: Belos falls and the Golden Guard survives. It’s a new world and a new day, and sooner or later Hunter has to figure out where he fits in it.

Or: in which Hunter stays at the Owl House, becomes a (very, very reluctant) apprentice, continues to have accidental sibling shenanigans with the annoying human, and finally finds a place where he belongs. Probably.

AO3 link is here.

[Next chapter is here!]

chapter one: battling birds

They give him a room near the east side of the house, stuffed full of broken things and a miscellaneous number of random items. It’s not the human’s old room, and not Lilith’s, either—there’s too much dust and too much stuff for either option. Hunter can’t tell if he’s grateful for this or not. He’s still deciding on whether he’s grateful for the room at all.

There’s no time to set up a bed. He spends his first night here on a blanket, restless and half-awake and lying so still he’s half-convinced he’s shaking from the strain of not moving at all, not making a single sound. He can practically taste the dust on every inhale—does the Owl Lady ever clean, Titan help him—and by some godawful midnight hour Hunter gives up on sleep entirely and sits up, carefully, to whisper to his palisman.

Nothing important. None of the real questions that are swirling around in his head, like what am I even doing here and why am I still here and what am I supposed to do now, do you know? Instead he just says nonsense things, useless things, like “If I shine a flashlight in that little demon’s face do you think I could get him to chase the dot?”

The palisman coos and chirps and sings nonsense back. Red is a pretty color. I like tulips. If we iced over the Boiling Sea could we make human rain?

“None of those answers make sense,” Hunter tells it, and then writes a small note about the sea and rain connection on the dusty floor, if only because that’s actually kind of interesting and he wants to check it out again later.

Red tulips are tasty, replies the palisman, and nuzzles his fingers when he goes to pet it. Its feathers are soft and its eyes are luminous in the moonlight. Nonsense, all of it, but the nonsense helps—familiar as a friend, safe and easy. Better than thinking of Belos. Better than wondering what he’s doing here, sleeping on the floor in the Owl Lady’s house.

The human has left. He could walk out right now and she’d never know, not that her disappointment has any bearing on if he chooses to stay or go. She’s vanished back to the human world, probably gone forever. This house means nothing to Hunter—the Owl Lady is annoying and dislikes him about as much as Hunter dislikes her, and as endearing as the weird little demon is, that isn’t enough to make Hunter want to stay.

He could leave easily. He could go anywhere. He has nowhere to go.

“I don’t know what to do,” Hunter tells the palisman, at last, hours later. It is almost morning. The sunrise has only just begun, the peace of this dusty attic room wavering thin and fragile in the light of early dawn. It is a quiet admission. He says it very soft. “I don’t know if I know anything.”

I love you, says the palisman.

“That’s not an answer either.”

Oh, well.

Twenty minutes later, the Owl Lady’s weird bird-worm security creature bursts through the window and sings good morning loud enough to shatter eardrums. Hunter grabs his staff, throws a blast at the thing on instinct, teleports to the kitchen in a panic, and smacks the Owl Lady in the face with his palisman first thing in the morning.

The easy explanation is this: the castle falls and Belos dies and the Golden Guard somehow survives it all: portal collapse and half-realm merge and everything, which means when the dust settles, ultimately Hunter is left with absolutely no idea of what to do with himself.

“You should work with Eda!” says the human, in the aftermath. Given she says this in the ruin of what was once the Emperor’s castle, barely a half hour after—everything—Hunter feels pretty justified in his response. Which is to say he strangles his broken mechanical staff in his hands, takes a deep breath, and says in a very tight voice: “No.”

“But—!”

“No. No, no, no. I can’t even believe I did this, I don’t… it’s not happening. No.”

The human—he does actually know her name by now, after all they’ve been through, but also given all of This Nonsense she has lost name privileges—does not take that well. Of course she doesn’t. She’s so fourteen it makes Hunter want to die inside.

“Why not?” the human says, petulant. She has her hands on her hips and everything.

Hunter is kneeling in the rubble of a castle he’s called home for almost all his life. Somewhere down there is the throne where Belos used to sit; somewhere down there is a body. It’s not a surprise, really. It’s not a shock. From the moment the palisman fluttered into his life and Hunter let it stay, he always knew, deep down, that one day he was going to have to choose.

It does not make breathing any easier. “I don’t want to,” he says.

“You can learn wild magic! And, and glyphs! Eda knows a lot—”

“Does the Owl Lady know you’re offering up her house to an old enemy?”

“Eda won’t mind. Well, okay, maybe she’ll mind a little, but— she’ll let you stay if I ask her!” Yeah. The Owl Lady probably would. The human has that witch wrapped around her little finger; Hunter almost snorts. “Please, just hear me out. I’m sure we can—”

“No.”

“Hunter…”

“Don’t talk like we’re friends,” Hunter hisses. He drops the broken remains of the mechanical staff and stands, his hands curled to fists. “Don’t talk like you know me. You don’t know anything. You don’t—” He can’t breathe. He drops back to his knees in the rubble and rubs a hand over his eyes. “Just stop. Please.”

The human doesn’t say anything for a long time. On his shoulder, the palisman, thus far staying silent, flutters its wings and hops down to his knee, nudging his hand with its beak. It sings nothing. Just stays there.

After a moment, the human kneels next to him. There is blood on her face and dirt staining her leggings. “I know,” she says, and she suddenly sounds very tired. “I’m sorry.”

Hunter doesn’t say anything.

“I just—” the human starts, and then she stops. “I don’t know how else to help you.”

She looks small and weirdly sad, which makes no sense at all, because she hated Belos and never really understood why Hunter did not. (Hunter is not sure why either. If that is still something he can say. If you can betray your uncle and fight against your uncle and—and— and do these things, do everything Hunter has done, and still say that this feeling isn’t hatred.)

They aren’t friends, Hunter and the human. They have barely been allies. He doesn’t need her help, and she probably knows that as well as he does. But Hunter looks at her then, and despite the rubble and the ash and the blood on his tongue, for some reason instead of digging himself a makeshift grave he says—

“…Okay.”

Which still doesn’t really explain anything, but then, that’s just how it goes.

“Okay!” says the Owl Lady, smacking down her second cup of apple blood on the table. She does it too hard—a good splash of blood escapes the confines of the cup and adds yet another stain to her already-stained dining table. Hunter raises an eyebrow. The Owl Lady glares back. “House rules.”

There’s a red mark on her cheek, still, from where Hunter had hit her with his staff, and a stain all down her side from when, upon being hit with the staff, the Owl Lady spluttered and cursed and accidentally spilt the first cup of apple blood all over herself and the floor. She looks… barely awake.

“House rules,” Hunter echoes, dryly.

“Your scorn is noted and not appreciated.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” His palisman pecks his hand lightly. “Ow.”

“Luz, you owe me one,” mutters the Owl Lady, and takes a really deep drink of her apple blood. Hunter rubs at his hand, peeved, and eyes the palisman in case it gets any more hand-pecking ideas. The palisman blinks innocently back. Hmm.

“So. First of all.” The Owl Lady raises a finger. “Break any of my stuff and I end you.”

So just like the castle, then. Hunter sees where this is going. He settles gingerly back against the chair—why, why is all of her furniture stained—and rests his cheek against one fist, already bored. “Noted.”

The Owl Lady puts up a second finger. There’s a long silence.

“…Seriously?” says Hunter.

“Quiet, you.” She snaps her fingers. “Hah! Got one! Hurt King or Luz or Hooty or anyone I like in any way and I’ll destroy you. Yeah, that works.”

Hunter gets the sneaking suspicion these house rules are being made up on the spot, and are also only for him. He knows better than to say that aloud. “Fine.” Wait. “How am I supposed to know which random people you like or dislike?”

The Owl Lady grins. Her gold fang glints. “That sounds like a you problem, don’t you think?” She cackles a little. “Guess you’ll just have to find out! Or, you know. Maybe don’t attack anyone? That’s a start.”

Her owl palisman coos a little. Her nose wrinkles. “What? What do you mean that’s hypocritical? Stay out of this, Owlbert, I’m teaching life lessons or something.” Her eyes turn to him. “Anyway. You get the gist.”

Hunter’s hand is curled white-knuckled around his knee. His palisman flutters from the table to his shoulder, singing nonsense again. Red tulips, so tasty. Its feathers brush against his cheek.

He pries his grip off his knee one finger at a time. “…Understood.”

“Good.” The Owl Lady stands and stretches, yawning wide into one hand. “Anyway, I’ll give you a pass for this morning, because Hooty can be…” She trails off. Outside, muffled by the front door, the bird-worm creature shouts “HOOT” at full volume and then smacks into a tree.

“…a lot,” decides the Owl Lady. “But seriously, keep the windows locked. I don’t want you trying to blast him and burning my house down. I just got it back.”

Hunter says nothing. The Owl Lady squints at him and then picks her mug back up. “Riiiight… well, good talk, I guess. Get some more sleep, kid, you look worse than Luz after an all-nighter.” She waits. Hunter raises an eyebrow at her. “Ugh. I don’t know why I agreed to this.”

At least Hunter isn’t the only one second-guessing everything. Still, that reminds him. “The human.”

“Luz,” says the Owl Lady, unimpressed.

“Yeah, whatever.” He links his fingers. The palisman flies down from his shoulder to his cupped hands, and hops a determined circle in his palm for no apparent reason. Hunter watches it play. “…Is she coming back?”

“What, tired of our company already?”

“Yes,” Hunter says, because obviously.

“Rude. Well, can’t say the feeling isn’t mutual.” There’s a long silence. The Owl Lady sighs. “Luz… she promised she’d come back. You were there, weren’t you?”

Yeah, he had been. Standing in the back of the group, on the fringes of the goodbye. Two hours after the end, and the human had already roped the Owl Lady into letting Hunter live in her stupid owl house, and also somehow run around hugging pretty much everyone. And then she’d stepped through the mirrors that were all that remained of the realm-merge between her world and theirs, and not come back since.

She had, indeed, promised to return. But that was hours ago; that was yesterday. The mirrors are gone and no doors remain. And Hunter does not put much faith in promises.

“And when,” he asks the Owl Lady, a little lofty, a little snide. “When, exactly, do you think she’s coming back?”

The Owl Lady’s eyes narrow. Her lips press thin. For a moment he thinks she might snap at him, but then her shoulders slump, and in the end she just looks away.

“I don’t know,” the Owl Lady admits.

Useless, Hunter thinks. But he doesn’t say it. Just nods and turns away to head back upstairs and make that stupid dusty storage room somewhat presentable, because if he’s going to be staying here for—for—for whatever amount of time he ends up staying here, he’s going to breathe actual air instead of dust, thanks.

“Remember, kid! House rules!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hunter says, and teleports back up the stairs without a single glance back.

Hunter manages to shove all the junk into one corner and make the start of a fairly presentable bed in the other corner by the time the human re-arrives in the Boiling Isles and throws open his door hard enough to smack it against the wall.

“You took my advice!” shouts the human, at the top of her lungs.

“Hiiiiii,” says Hunter, hands over his ears. The human takes a deep breath. Hunter closes the door in her face. “Byeeee.”

“Hey!”

“Why are you yelling.”

“I can’t believe you’re here!”

It’s just nonsensical enough to get him to open the door. Why does this always happen to him? Why is the human like this? “You said I should come here! You said—”

“Psh,” says the human and flaps a hand in his face. Hunter stops mid-word, gritting his teeth, practically feeling his whole face turn bright red with rage. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way! I just— I didn’t think you would actually listen! But you’re here!” She’s beaming. Hunter looks away. Her smile fades. “…Are you okay?”

He can’t sleep. His eyes are hot and burning like he wants to cry and he has no idea why. His uncle is dead.

“No,” he tells her. “No one in this house dusts. I’ve forgotten what air tastes like.”

“Psh-haw! I’m sure it's not that…” The human steps inside, inhales, and chokes. “Oh. Ay Dios mío. Wow, this room has not been dusted.”

“I noticed!”

“Oh, man.” She hides her nose in her elbow and sidles outside again. She’s wearing her weird human clothes and her palisman staff strapped to her back. She looks tired, and a little like she has no idea what she’s doing here either. She lingers in the door almost awkwardly, rolling back and forth from her heels to her toes.

Hunter watches her for a long moment. “You came back.”

“Haha. What gave it away?” But the smile she gives is small and blinding, brighter than the sun. “Watch this.”

“Watch wha—” The human lifts her hand and trails it through the air, dragging her fingers down in a straight line. Golden light follows her fingers. It breaks the air like a fractured mirror, a rift sparking to life in the hallway, the dark greens and blues of a galaxy intertwined with a burning glow. Hunter’s voice dies in his throat.

“If I push at it, it opens. Like a door. It leads me right home.” She’s smiling so wide it must hurt. The portal almost seems to whisper; the golden glow of the rift shines in her eyes and catches on her face, still tear-streaked. The human’s cried over this. She’s right to. The human world and the Boiling Isles—she has found a way to keep both.

Presumably he thinks he should be jealous. Instead he finds himself smiling too. “I’m glad,” Hunter tells her. “That’s… pretty cool.”

“Right!?” She bounces on her heels and waves a hand through the rift, dismissing it into nothing. “I can’t wait to show Amity. And Eda. And King. And you! The human world is—it’s amazing. The rain doesn’t kill you even a little bit!”

It takes sudden effort to keep up the smile. “…I’ve heard.”

“Anyway, I just came by to say hi. Eda said you were here, and—” She stops, visibly hesitating. Her head lowers. “I know… I know this must be hard. And that we aren’t really friends. But… if you need anyone to talk to… I’m here.” She peeks up her head a little, grinning. “After all, we’re house buddies now!”

“Human,” Hunter says. Her nose wrinkles. He sighs. “Luz.”

“Yeah?”

There’s so much he could say that for a moment he has no idea where to start. Why did you think this was a good idea. Please stop talking. Why are you so insistent that we could be friends. I didn’t say I was staying here for long. I’m very tired. You’re bizarrely forgiving. My uncle is dead because of you.

“…Thanks,” he says. “And— I’m sorry.”

Luz blinks at him. Then she grins. “Noooo problem, ol’ buddy ol’ pal!”

Hunter shoves her stupid smiling face away and closes the door on her toes. Luz yelps and swears and kicks at the door, and yells rude things in that other human language of hers. “Byeeeee,” Hunter says, and behind the closed door, Luz makes a muffled noise of rage and shouts, “Would you stop saying that!?”

And it doesn’t make things better but it doesn’t make things any worse, either, and when Hunter turns away he is almost smiling—so maybe it’s okay.

The sun sets. The dusty room has been aired out to its best ability, and Hunter has made a somewhat functional and comfy-looking bed in the corner. A sticky note with the boiling sea + ice = human rain idea has been ceremoniously pinned to the empty wall space. In addition to the sticky notes, Luz has donated his “sad, bad boy room” what looks to be a dying houseplant. Hunter suspects she gave it to him purely because she has despaired of trying to keep it alive herself.

He puts the plant on the windowsill. The palisman apparently loves it. Maybe he should find red tulips for it to eat. Whatever a red tulip is.

He settles next to the palisman on the windowsill, and strokes its head with his finger. He feels strangled and small and the sunset looks alien to him. Everything has changed. Everything is over. He is a powerless witch with a wild magic staff, and he will never be the Golden Guard again.

His eyes burn. He blinks fast. Far down below, he can hear the Owl Lady and Luz arguing over dinner.

“I still don’t know what I’m doing here,” Hunter tells the palisman. The sunset makes all the trees look shadow-like and sharp, outlined in red. It reminds him of his palisman, a little bit. “I don’t even like these people. What do you think? Is it too late to head back and dig myself a grave in the rubble?”

I’m happy I know you, chirps the palisman. It hops from the dying houseplant to the top of his head. I love you, I love you.

His throat feels tight. “…That still isn’t a real answer.”

I want apple blood for breakfast tomorrow. The palisman nibbles at his hair. It looks tasty.

He’s quiet for a long moment. Then he closes his eyes. “Okay. If— if you say so.”

The sun is setting, and the light is warm on his face. The Boiling Isles feels, for once, almost something like peaceful. It probably won’t last.

“We’ll stay.”

#toh #the owl house #owl house #toh hunter #toh golden guard #luz noceda #eda clawthorne #hunter owl house #owl house fic #toh fic #fic: who we are in the aftermath #fic update

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wangxiangiftexchange · 4 years ago

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Lunar New Year Gift for vedrividia!

Pairing: Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji; past Wei Wuxian/Other (implied) Rating: Mature Warnings: brief depiction of sexual harassment, brief instance of misgendering, implied/referenced past suicide attempt, implied/referenced past sexual assault (off-screen), implied/referenced past forced pregnancy (off screen), implied/referenced underage sex & pregnancy (off-screen), alcoholism, coming out, implied/referenced homophobia Other Tags: trans male character, disabled character, gay male character, open ending, unreliable narrator, angst, tender, chance meeting, confession, reunion, character with incomplete spinal cord injury, iSCI, it probably sounds darker than it is

Summary: On the last eve before spring Wei Ying finds himself at the end of a road. What awaits him on the other side depends on the steps he takes to cross it. Someone walks beside him.

Disclaimer: I am neither Chinese, trans nor disabled. All of the portrayal in this fic is based on research. It's not my intent to offend and I'm open to critique as long as it's respectful and constructive. Wei Ying's journey is his own and does not represent all of the disabled or trans community. The fic is set in a world that closely resembles ours, but where corona never happened and maybe China's laws are just a little less restrictive (but still very phobic), so bear that in mind. I do not own any of the characters.

Notes - Beginning: The idea of trans male Wei Ying had been stuck in my head for a while now, and I've been wanting to try my hand at a trans story, because I've never done that before. This assignment was an opening to do that in a darker, more serious setting. I have also wanted to explore Wei Ying's suicidal issues while translating his story into a modern setting for some time (it was supposed to be a coffee shop AU, only the coffee shop never appeared hah). It was simultaneously hard and fun to write, and I'm grateful for it. @vedrividia, I hope you like it!

In the past I didn't feel like I could do a good job at representing anyone of an identity I couldn't quite empathize with. Since then I've surrounded myself with trans inclusive media, and followed transgender blogs and channels, and I hope that this fic does right by all of them.

I am aware of some of the potentially problematic topics, but I also didn't want to ignore all the challenges and abuse and trauma that trans folk are forced to endure on a daily basis. (Did you know that trans people have some of the highest suicide rates, and likely to have alcohol issues? Making everyone happy and nothing hurt felt all kinds of wrong knowing that.) I believe that representing both - an ideal world alongside the real and flawed one - is important.

Positive stories are also important - this is one. Or at least I hope I was able to make it one.

On a more cheerful note, there are pictures that served as an inspiration for this story, namely this photoset (especially the pic in the leather jacket, the one on the couch and the close up) done in faceapp by a genius, this brain-frying picture, and of course this picture from the Harper's Bazaar Photoshoot that none of us are over. I completely blame Xiao Zhan's androgyny.

Last but not least, I owe a massive thanks to Laura for the amazing beta they did on a rather short notice and brought this fic to another level. Thank you for your hard work!!! :)

End notes: Wei Ying has an incomplete spinal cord injury in the lumbar area (at L1 or L2). I didn't realize that I played myself when I gave him an incomplete injury, because the lack of references and information is in terms of quantity a total opposite to everything available on complete SCI. Which in turn made the telling of such a story feel even more important. If any of you know of a good resource for the daily life of people with iSCI, I'm all ears.

Even researching the walking aides was a challenge, since most information is on wheelchair dependent people, which Wei Ying is not. He has a wheelchair but he refuses to use it, for several reasons, one of them being image, another being worry of atrophy. He likes a good walk, and there's progress thanks to physical therapy, most of which is covered by insurance. I was debating an exoskeleton/brace for him, but from what I gathered they aren't really useful for SCI (I welcome any additional info about this), and those that would be cost a ton and aren't covered by insurance - which is a big factor for Wei Ying. The toss ended up being between forearm crutches and a walking frame, but in the end I decided on crutches, because it seemed like Wei Ying would prefer them? For now? With crutches he can pretend, and I also didn't know to what extent a walking frame would be insurance covered (in China), and whether he'd be at a point where he would accept one. (I imagine the simple ones would be covered by insurance, the question is whether they make a huge difference to crutches, and whether a rollator - with wheels and a seat is something that would count as 'necessary' in this case.)

However, once again, I am not adequately educated on all that goes into the decision making here. No one ever mentions things like these in success stories. In the end I left it as a room for future development. I'm pretty sure Wen Qing is trying to convince him to get one.

I was debating whether to tag dysphoria. While it is not explicitly stated in the fic, Wei Ying does experience it, although this has gotten better since he realized being trans, came out and started testosterone. His decision to not transition fully is one that many trans people make at a point in their lives, for any number of reasons. This does not mean he'll never change his mind, or won't explore other forms of expression. It's a choice that the current Wei Ying is making, completely independent of future Wei Ying.

It's possible in China to get a gender confirmation surgery, but the requirements sound like a nightmare. The first thing you have to do is get diagnosed with 'gender disorder', be five years in (unsuccessful) therapy for it, at least 20 and unmarried. If he decides to transition fully to a male presenting body he can only marry someone who is biologically female in the future, under Chinese law. (Imagine having to divorce your significant other in order to be who you are. Imagine having to make this decision. It makes me want to write fic about it.)

It also costs a ton, as none of it is covered by insurance. You can only start hormone therapy in order to get surgery, which leads a lot of trans people to acquire hormones illegally and without medical counseling. I purposefully did not decide where Wei Ying gets his T from. I didn't want him to not have it, but I left the how undecided. For the most part I headcanon it as one of the things that make my world a little different, since hormone therapy is a thing that exists outside of transitioning as well. E.g. many female athletes use testosterone to boost their performance, and many other women take it for various medical reasons. I feel like WWX could find ways to acquire some. Now, whether this would be legal or not is left open.

By the way? Never, EVER deadname. Just don't. The moment someone comes out to you as trans, tells you their pronouns and name, that's what you use. You forget everything that came prior to that, wipe it out of your memory, it's ashes on the sands of time unless stated otherwise BY THEM, got it?

Now, Wei Ying's case. I was hesitant about how to approach this, but from the start I knew two things. I wanted the same kind of intimacy of WWX & LWJ calling each other by their birth names as in canon, but I also didn't want to go the way most authors go in this case i.e. splitting the names to pre- and post- transition. It is my understanding that most Chinese names are unisex (if anyone has more info on this, I'd love to have it), or can be used for all genders, and I didn't want to force a gender issue where there wasn't one. However, I also wanted something parallel that could be used in a similar way. What I came up with is what you see in text. While Wei Ying did change his name, the only reason why it's still somewhat okay to use 'Wuxian' is because he explicitly says he likes it. In fact, in my head somewhere in the imagined future of this verse, he and JFM have a conversation about it where JFM tells him if he wants it, it can still be his name - he didn't give it to an image, but a person. IDK how well any of this works, or translates to actual trans or Chinese (or trans and Chinese) people, so if you have words for me, let me know.

On a side note, in 2015 China lifted the one-child policy in favor of a two-child policy. A-Yuan was born in 2017.

Wei Ying attempted suicide between the 4th and 8th week of his pregnancy. During the early weeks the probability of a fetus surviving a major fall (even a fall from stairs) is significantly higher than later in the pregnancy, and the scaffolding he jumped from wasn't actually that high. I'm also considering that there might have been something to cushion the fall that he hadn't noticed (a stray rope, or a net) or been aware of (like padding on the stage), but that's a detail I decided to leave to your imagination. On the other hand, sustaining a SCI during early pregnancy is likely to have fatal consequences, as I found out a week before the deadline. In the end, they both got very lucky. Wei Ying spent the next 3 months in a coma. When he woke up it was too late to terminate. Jiang Fengmian had been adamant that the decision not be made without Wei Ying's consent, which was nice of him, but also ended up making the decision for Wei Ying regardless.

Last but not least, if you've read this and feel like you have something to add, I love any kind of comments, whether you wanna review the fic, have some useful information for me, would like to discuss a point or just like to say hi! :)

*****

Transverse

If asked, Wei Ying wouldn't have remembered how he had gotten to the bar. He didn't remember taking a different route on the short walk back home, he hadn't even been aware there was a bar in the first place. He only remembered suddenly standing in front of it, aching to his bones, limbs leaden with a familiar exhaustion, morose and longing for nothing more than a little break. His back was on fire, his leg was throbbing, the skin underneath his binder wouldn’t stop itching and to top it off his stomach had been cramping in a way it wasn't supposed to anymore. His body had decided to give him a wonderful gift for the holiday. Wei Ying wouldn't wish this on his worst enemy, and that spoke volumes to anyone who knew who occupied that position.

Needless to say, he was desperate for a drink.

The bar was almost empty so early in the afternoon, and shortly before the holiday, all the regulars had likely gone home to see their families. It was the time of reunions, the golden week of spring knocking on the door. The whole town looked empty, seemingly asleep and abuzz at the same time, a strange kind of liminal space born in the atmosphere of the coming celebrations, quiet with contained impatience. He had been painfully aware of it the entire week, the turning of another year leaving him nothing to do but watch people go where Wei Ying couldn't return anymore.

The Lunar New Year always made him hurt worse than usual, in more ways than purely physical. Wei Ying had felt that strange air peak today, even in the confines of his tiny office at the back of the Pacific Coffee branch he had been working at for a little over two months. It was a tiny thing on the busiest street of their small town, smelling of comfort in the wee hours of the morning and of salvation late in the evening. The staff had needed support with handling the supply chain, so that they could focus on serving the staggering amount of customers that came in all day.

It had seemed perfect when Wei Ying had first limped inside on his forearm crutches, with a letter of recommendation, feeling smaller than an ant but significantly less tough. The reintegration program had been a lifeline thrown to a drowning man when he had first heard about it. It had been the opportunity to restart his life. Earn an income. Be independent. In time maybe even repay his friends for the kindness they had shown when he had nowhere to go. Now? Now he wasn't sure that he'd still have a job after the holiday was over.

"This really can't go on," his boss had said, midway through the most gruesome shift the shop had ever witnessed. "Half the supplies came in wrong, for the third time this week!"

Sometimes, Wei Ying wondered why he still bothered. He could probably survive on aid and love for himself, and the Wens made enough to take care of the rest. It just… It could have been nice. To be the one to take care of the people he cared about, for a change.

He really needed that drink.

The whiskey looked enticing from where he was half-sitting, half-leaning on a stool, crutches stashed between his legs. He could almost taste it, the phantom of the sharp flavor burning his tongue.

"Hi, darling." An unfamiliar voice startled him out of his thoughts, causing him to tense. He had been aware of the middle-aged man at the counter, but he hadn't been paying him much attention until now. "Can I buy you a drink? How about Sex on the Beach?"

It was difficult to control himself at that tasteless, juvenile joke. Wei Ying could almost taste the bile rising in his throat and the beginnings of what would no doubt become a pounding headache throbbing in his temples. Great. Just what he had needed.

The whiskey bottle called out to him again, beckoning him to the bitter burn.

A drink. That was what he needed - a drink.

Do you really? Need it? The voice of his therapist came to his mind, sudden and uninvited.

"Hey bartender!" The man called out in the most unwelcome case of accidental telepathy in the history of mankind, sneaking one arm around Wei Ying’s waist, a sweaty hand settling on his hip. "One Sex on the Beach for the miss, on my tab!"

There was the rising bile again, tension squeezing his muscles, and the flash of a haughty smirk at the furthest back of his mind. This wasn't what he wanted. None of it. Neither the touch nor the drink, no matter what his mind wanted to convince him of.

It's easier to need than the things that take hard work, the ones you have to earn. It had taken him a long time to admit that.

"I don't drink." Wei Ying said, angling his head as much as the muscles of his neck permitted to look at the guy invading his personal space squarely. "Remove your hand now."

The guy bristled.

"Hey, chill out, sweetheart." He was quick to regain his composure with an awkward laugh and not enough common sense. Wei Ying supposed he must have been used to rejection. Too bad. "You're so tense… Maybe a virgin cocktail then."

His crutch shot up before the full sentence was out.

The man stumbled back with a startled yelp as the rubber point connected with his chest in a sharp jab.

"Hey! What's your problem?!"

"I said I don't drink." Wei Ying was completely unapologetic, still holding his crutch like a sword, but the guy was already walking away, muttering ‘fucking bitch’ under his breath.

"You alright there, girl?"

His gut clenched at the words.

He looked up to meet the only slightly worried, but otherwise unbothered gaze of the bartender and told himself it wasn't her fault. She probably wasn't even aware. He knew he didn't… There was no way for him to pass. There was nothing he could do about that, had already decided not to, not at this time, not in this country. Wei Ying didn't expect people to know on sight. He didn't. It didn't change the fact though that every single misnomer felt like someone was peeling his skin off.

"I'm not a girl," he said to her almost too quietly, but he knew she heard when he met her gaze. A strained silence passed between them in which Wei Ying watched her frown in confusion, then sputter with the loss of words, before awkwardly shuffling off. He smiled wryly. How funny. It really wasn't anything complicated, and yet… So few were able to comprehend.

Wordlessly, Wei Ying slid off the stool and made his way out of the bar as quick as his crutches let him be.

Once outside, the crisp air mercilessly purifying, he realized how close to the edge he had gotten once again. He had to stop doing this. He couldn't afford another fall, another spiral back down the drain. Not when he had just clawed his way out. Not when he had people depending on him now. Tiny people with curious gray eyes, so much like his own. Waiting for him at home.

Something icy touched his face and instinctively he looked up only to find it snowing.

That explained the ache.

The cold always made him feel sore, although he knew at least some of it was phantom pain. He hadn’t retained a whole lot of feeling in his left leg, beyond a tingle that had become almost constant and the occasional twitch. His right leg was fine, it just tended to ache a lot, to a point where Wei Ying sometimes found himself wishing it wasn't better off than the other one. But then he wouldn't get away with 'forgetting' his wheelchair at home, so he quickly dismissed that thought. Besides, there were plenty of people who had it worse. He, at least, could still walk. He could still stand. Kinda. He had no room to complain.

After all, he had done this to himself.

'It's better this way.' He remembered thinking, standing on the top of the catwalk stairs backstage of the high school auditorium. 'A-jie, Jiang Cheng,… Lan Zhan. I'm sorry for the trouble I've caused you. I love you. I'll get out of your hair now.'

In the end it had been easy to tip backwards and let himself fall.

Waking up had been the hard part. Not only had he failed, but every reason that had pushed him to end it all had only been made worse. Worse still, after. He had lived though, so that was that. There was no utility in regret. He couldn't go back. The only way was forward now, step by painful step. Standing around and staring at the snow falling was nice, but it wouldn't make the walk shorter. Home wasn't far away. He'd take it slow. He'd be there before he knew it.

He barely took three steps before he felt someone's broad shoulder bump against his, his equilibrium yanked roughly from under his feet.

He remembered falling.

Not the act of it, nor every thought and feeling that preceded it, but he remembered the soft pressure at his skull as he tipped backwards, the endless instant of the free fall, a moment frozen in time. Not the impact, but the inevitability of it, coming, coming, almost there. The loss of control. The frightening, exhilarating realization of his absolute surrender. Not the oblivion that followed but the fragments of muddled awareness afterwards. Disorientation, rock bottom and the overwhelming sense of failure.

It had felt nothing like now.

He felt the loss of ground beneath his feet, the scrape of concrete against his palms, as he all but starfished onto the pavement. A sharp pain. The frustrated annoyance of another thing gone wrong in the long list that made up the day.

Only the failure felt the same, funny that.

"I'm sorry!" Said a deep voice. "I wasn't looking."

"Yeah, no shit." He chuckled, because really, who could have guessed.

"Here, let me help." There were hands on his arm, just as he propped himself up, but he yanked it away.

"I'm fine!" He wasn't helpless. He wasn't, dammit! He had his arms, his abdominals, and most of his legs. Getting up from the ground wasn't such a herculean task for him as for those who depended on a wheelchair. He didn't have to call an ambulance just because he starfished. He didn't need any help at all here, especially not the help of some ditzy stranger with their head in the clouds…

"Wei Ying?"

Wei Ying froze.

Few people on this Earth called him that, and none of them had a voice like that. He looked up to see glowing amber on a face carved out of a dream.

"Lan Zhan?"

Of all the people to be in town today of all days, the least likely would have to be Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan, his former senior, Lan Zhan, his best friend. Lan Zhan, whom he had told his secrets, Lan Zhan, who he… who he…

"Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan… Can I kiss you? I understand you don't like me that way, and it's fine, I'm fine, really, but… uhm… It's supposed to be special. The first kiss. I… I want it to be yours. Just one kiss." A child he barely remembered had wanted and wanted, never satisfied. "Ah, it's okay if you don't want to. I get it. It's fine. I'm just being selfish."

But that had been a long time ago. A person he didn't know, a past life that had never truly been. Not for him in any case.

Lan Zhan was looking at him like a ghost had appeared in front of him.

Although, ghosts didn't need crutches. Honestly, Wei Ying did wish he could float quite frequently.

Face twisted in sardonic amusement at that childish wish, he pulled himself up with some maneuvering and a lot of effort. This seemed to wake Lan Zhan from his daze as he quickly followed. Wei Ying didn't miss the sweeping gaze as his once friend took him in, wondering what he saw. A stranger, perhaps? A new person? Him? Wei Ying knew he hadn't changed much on the outside, aside the obvious and maybe in his weight distribution, but Lan Zhan had always had the ability to look past the surface. Was he still able to do that? Or was he just taking in his appearance, assessing his matted, worn out body that seemed to show every year that had passed multiplied by ten? Wei Ying was aware that time had not been the kindest to him, but he was hanging on. He was past the worst now. He was doing better. He was!

He wondered if Lan Zhan still could see that too.

"Wei Ying." His name again, spoken with enough wonder to give Wei Ying the courage to meet his gaze. There was an unspoken question in it.

"Yeah," Wei Ying answered and felt the cusp of a smile pull at the corners of his lips. "Long time no see, Lan Zhan. Fancy meeting you here."

"I really like you, Lan Zhan," the person he didn't know had said, red faced with embarrassment and a shaking voice. "I mean like… like like."

Back then he had believed that moment to be the most nerve-wracking experience he was ever going to survive. Today he missed his naivety.

Lan Zhan gave him a look like he just realized it was really Wei Ying standing in front of him. Like he still could barely believe it. It unraveled a completely different ache in Wei Ying. They had been close once, and though they had always shared their secrets, Wei Ying had seen him so open and unguarded but once.

"I...like...boys," had been the answer. The refusal so, so gentle, unable to accept, thus giving something of equal value in return instead. A truth for a truth, a secret for a secret. "Wei Ying, I'm gay."

Lan Zhan, always figuring things out so quickly, always willing to accept reality no matter how hard it was. Wei Ying hadn't known back then. If he had known… Who knew what would have been then. It didn't matter anymore. It was a life long gone. What remained of it were a few good memories, some of them he wasn't sure were real.

Now, chance had made them cross paths once again, at a liminal space transversing through time.

"Are you hurt?" Lan Zhan's voice brought him back from his thoughts, and Wei Ying looked where he was reaching for his scraped hands and knees.

Lan Zhan, always the same Lan Zhan… "Not selfish."

So wonderful and kind and warm.

"Eh, I'm fine. Nothing Wen Qing can't fix." He brushed his former friend off, noticing how Lan Zhan's eyebrow seemed to go up infinitesimally at the mention of his old classmate and promptly changed the subject. "What brings you to Yiling, Lan Zhan? Shouldn't you be with your family for Chun Jie?"

"I…" Lan Zhan looked away. "Didn't get an earlier flight."

That sounded suspicious, especially since the Lan Zhan Wei Ying knew liked to plan ahead. But Wei Ying wasn't the same he had been, maybe Lan Zhan wasn't either. People were allowed to change. It also didn't answer what he was doing in Yiling in the first place, but Wei Ying wasn't forcing him to tell. Wei Ying had never wanted to force Lan Zhan into anything, he wasn't going to start now.

"Wei Ying." Lan Zhan looked at him again, this time meeting his eyes squarely. He paused. "How have you been?"

Wei Ying felt the loom of a shadow over him, and his gaze dropped to the ground for a second.

"As you can see." He put a reassuring smile on his face as he summoned enough will to hold Lan Zhan's gaze. "Still alive and kicking."

Which was probably much more than the last time Lan Zhan had heard of him.

"I was looking for you. I wanted to see you. After." The what remained unspoken. Lan Zhan's kind heart hadn't changed. Wei Ying sought comfort in it, warmed by the thought of his best friend trying to get in touch even after everything went to hell. "I was told you… left."

Wei Ying made a soft sound of affirmation through the small smile that had spread on his face. "I moved out on my eighteenth birthday. Aunt Yu… I was supposed to stay till graduation, but... ah. I fucked up. Colossally."

"Wei Ying." Lan Zhan remained the only person Wei Ying knew who managed to frown without a single crease on his face. "You were recovering."

"It was fine, Lan Zhan." Wei Ying chuckled even as he held back a sigh. Lan Zhan didn't know half of it. "I moved in with the Wens."

There was a pause.

"With Wen Qing?" Lan Zhan asked and Wei Ying realized that small detail wouldn't have been immediately clear to him, all things considered.

"With Wen Qing and her family." He nodded. After a moment of thought he added. "Not Wen Chao. I know nothing about that douchebag."

"Mn," Lan Zhan agreed and it sounded so wholehearted that it startled a laugh out of Wei Ying.

"Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan," Wei Ying said, feeling truly light for the first time in a long time. The smile he gave Lan Zhan felt warm and genuine. He hoped Lan Zhan saw it too, and didn't think Wei Ying was trying to shake him off, when he spoke next. "It's so good to see you. You're the best thing that happened to me today. I would love to catch up, but they're waiting for me at home and I'm already late."

"Mn." Lan Zhan nodded. There was a pause. Then, just as Wei Ying was about to ask for his number, "I could. Walk you. If you like."

"I thought you had a flight to catch." Wei Ying wanted to smack his mouth for how hopeful he sounded.

"Mn," Lan Zhan said. "In the evening."

"Lan Zhan!" He startled, amused and surprised at the same time. "And here I thought your bedtime was nine! Don't tell me you crossed to the dark side."

"It is Chuxi." Lan Zhan's voice was soft with a playful note, and Wei Ying felt his heart turn all over again even as he laughed.

"Aiya, Lan Zhan…" A smile spread on his face. "Alright then. I'd love to have your company. If you're sure."

"I am," Lan Zhan answered. "I would… very much like to… catch up with you."

"Well then." Wei Ying's smile broadened and started again in the direction he was heading earlier. "Right this way, sir. But I'm warning you. I'm basically a snail now."

For a beat there was silence, in which Wei Ying figured that Lan Zhan was probably looking for a proper response. He still didn't know how to handle self-deprecating humor, then. Wei Ying chuckled quietly to himself. The more things change…

"That is alright," Lan Zhan finally said. "I have time."

"Oh, do you? That's great!" Wei Ying grinned from ear to ear, marveling at how easy it suddenly was. "Aah, Lan Zhan I really missed this!"

"Mn," Lan Zhan agreed but didn't say anything else.

For a few moments silence reigned again, of a comfortable kind. One that allowed Wei Ying to bask in the startling, almost miraculous presence of his best friend. Or it would have been, had Wei Ying not been keenly aware of Lan Zhan's intense stare.

"Do I really look that bad?" He teased, hoping to give Lan Zhan the opening he probably needed to ask whatever questions he had. "I've actually gained weight over Dongzhi you know."

Lan Zhan blinked, as if startled to be called out. Wasn't he aware that he had been staring? Or had he not expected Wei Ying to say something?

"You look…" he started, then swept his gaze over Wei Ying.

"Tired?" Wei Ying offered, keeping the humor in his words. The last thing he wanted Lan Zhan to think was that he needed to sugar coat his words around him now. "Stressed? Battle worn?"

"Different," Lan Zhan finished.

"Ah." Wei Ying breathed out, something in his chest tightening. "Good different, or bad different?"

Lan Zhan looked at him for a long moment.

"Different you," he finally answered. A pause. "More you."

Wei Ying's breath stuttered, a small questioning sound dragging itself up his throat.

"Wei Ying…" Lan Zhan hesitated for a brief moment, unsure. "May I know your pronouns?"

Always so straight to the point.

"Pro… Pronouns?!" Wei Ying chuckled but even he could hear the nerves buzzing through that sound. "How did you figure that?"

Lan Zhan just kept looking at him. Wei Ying swallowed.

"I…"

He had to know. Since he actually asked, he had to already know. Or at least suspect. Be aware. In general, or about Wei Ying? Had he realized in their years apart, or was there something about Wei Ying now that made him guess? No one has ever been able to tell upon glance. No one.

Something fluttered deep in his chest, like the jingles of a tambourine reverberating. It gave him courage.

Wei Ying took a deep, steadying breath. "He, him, Lan Zhan. It's he, him."

He managed to swallow the thousand words that dragged themselves up his throat instead of that one, simple truth. To his credit, Lan Zhan let him, waiting patiently and with complete silence for Wei Ying to say his part.

"I'm trans," Wei Ying added, finding it easier to say after the initial confession. "As in full time, on actual testosterone, trans male."

Their eyes met. A heartbeat of silence.

"Mn." Lan Zhan nodded. "Makes sense."

Wei Ying had not expected that.

In his defense, no one had ever replied like that to him coming out.

"What?" He choked out, bewildered. Lan Zhan was giving him a gentle look, a diametrical opposite of Wei Ying's wide eyes. "Why does that make sense, Lan Zhan?"

"It didn't before." Lan Zhan's gaze dropped. "Now it does."

"What? Why?" Wei Ying repeated, not comprehending a single word his friend had said. At the back of his mind he knew he should be happy and relieved that as dear a friend as Lan Zhan accepted him, and he would be later, but now he was just confused. "Lan Zhan, what are you saying?"

"You confounded me. Before. I didn't understand. It didn't. Add up." He didn't even expect an answer beyond a shrug and an 'It just does', and yet Lan Zhan gave him one, trying to explain like he wanted Wei Ying to understand something important. Important enough to bring it up at their first chance meeting in years. It still didn't clear anything up. The way he was dragging his words out seemed odd too, for how upfront Lan Zhan usually was.

"What didn't add up?" Wei Ying asked again. What about him had confused Lan Zhan?

"I didn't know you were a boy. So it didn't make sense," Lan Zhan answered without looking up and Wei Ying felt dread tighten his stomach into a knot. "But now it does."

"What?" He frowned, the rush of blood pounding in his ears. "Lan Zhan, what are you talking about?"

Lan Zhan finally looked up at him and Wei Ying suddenly felt light headed. The grip on his crutches must have gone knuckle white from how firmly he was gripping the handles. It couldn't be…

"I was confused why I liked you," Lan Zhan whispered, dropping his gaze again. "Why I enjoyed kissing you."

Wei Ying's brain was white static.

No. No, no, no, no, no, no, "No!"

His whole body wanted to recoil with shock.

"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan pleaded but was cut short.

"I confessed to you! I told you I liked you!" He saw the bob of Lan Zhan's throat, how his eyes fell shut as he swallowed. Wei Ying despaired for words that could express the entire scale of emotions he felt, from betrayal to hope, but mostly just... shock. "You said you… You've never… And now, after everything… Do you even… Lan Zhan!!!"

"Wei Ying," he said his name like it was all he was capable of saying, with a hitch of sudden hesitance on the last syllable, a minuscule frown around his eyes, like he realized something important. "Do you still call yourself Wei Ying?"

The quiet question conjured up another memory, of an occasion much kinder.

"It's my birth name," he heard his youthful voice, still too high although most had described it as low. Lan Zhan had raised an eyebrow at him, even more puzzled than before. Wei Ying had laughed as he went to explain. "Same character as in 'infant'. Wuxian is the name uncle Jiang gave me so that I have a better name than, you know, 'baby'. It's a cool name! I mean, 'no envy' come on! Like I have no match in the world! Totally rad, you know, uncle Jiang's naming sense is A+."

"But you prefer Wei Ying." Lan Zhan had looked at him then, searchingly and Wei Ying had looked away with a snort, to hide his swallow.

"It's a terrible name. Who the hell names their baby 'baby'?"

Lan Zhan hadn't replied anything to that, and Wei Ying still remembered his next words, and how they had burned on his tongue, how he couldn't hold them back.

"It's what the people who loved me had called me."

In the present, Wei Ying found himself laughing in spite of the utter shock. Only Lan Zhan. Only Lan Zhan would give him a heart attack first then go make sure he wasn't deadnaming him on top of everything.

"Lan Zhan!!!" He cried out. "That's so not the point right now! But, yes, I do. I changed it back, actually. Officially, I mean."

"You dislike it." It sounded more like a question than a statement, so Wei Ying answered.

"Don't get me wrong, I still think Wuxian is way cooler, and my siblings still call me that, but…" His gaze fell away from Lan Zhan to something more distant, beyond his focus as he struggled over his words, drawing them out only with great difficulty from where they were rooted deep inside of him. "It's the name given to the image of a person that never really existed. Like… the painting of a person you met in a dream. And I sorta… I like to imagine that, regardless of who I am… They would still love me."

They. The people who gave him that horrible, unimaginative name.

"Mn," Lan Zhan agreed like there had never been any doubt about it. Wei Ying snorted.

"Wei Ying," there it was again, his name, spoken so kindly, if not hesitantly as Lan Zhan too seemed to be struggling for words. "I would like to apologize. I hurt you. I have been looking for you to tell you this."

All at once, Wei Ying felt his shock settle into something more profound, like the wave that had swallowed him revealing the depth of the ocean. There was nothing Lan Zhan had to apologize for. Not for the lack of awareness, and certainly not for his feelings. Even their conflicts had always stemmed from a place of deep care.

"No." Wei Ying shook his head. "Not more than I hurt myself, Lan Zhan. Even when you scolded me, you never hurt me."

Had Lan Zhan broken his heart? Yeah, he had. So what? Did that mean he could be held accountable for it? Wei Ying's feelings were his own shit to deal with, not Lan Zhan's. Returning them wasn't Lan Zhan's duty. Even if he returned them, would it be fair to fault him for running away from them? For feeling insecure and anxious about his own attraction? For not knowing these things weren't as clear cut as all the adults around them had wanted to make them believe? It wasn't like Wei Ying had known either back then. He had, perhaps, understood himself even less than Lan Zhan. Most importantly, it was all in the past now. It couldn't be changed. What they made of it now was what mattered.

"None of my bullshit is your fault," he added. "You didn't go and tell me to fuck up my life. That was all on me."

"You wrote," Lan Zhan started, then paused, hesitating, then started again. "In your letter, you wrote…"

Wei Ying picked up on the question immediately.

"Not you," he said, the same words he had penned all those years ago in what was one of only two letters. "Never you. I had my reasons, but none of them were about you. In fact, I thought of you as the last good thing in my life at that point. The one true friend I still had left."

Lan Zhan's gaze fell on his crutches, but he didn't ask. Wei Ying was grateful.

"Come on, I need to get a move on," he said, starting to walk again, smiling at the surprised expression Lan Zhan had given him, when he realized he was still welcome to accompany him. Maybe it was something about that look that made Wei Ying add, after another second of thought, "There are people waiting for my return."

"Mn," Lan Zhan hummed, falling back in step next to him. "That's good. You should have people waiting for you at home."

Wei Ying couldn't help but smile.

"Say, Lan Zhan,…" he said after a few seconds of silence, when all what Lan Zhan has confessed slowly sunk in. "When you say you've been looking for me… You mean all this time?"

"Mn." Lan Zhan nodded. Wei Ying watched him gather his thoughts, the snow fluttering all around them. "I wanted to see you. Ask how you were doing. See if… If you needed support. Apologize. For not being a good friend to you before."

"Lan Zhan…" Wei Ying listened to him, and when Lan Zhan finally looked up at him his gaze was so sincere that his heart ached with it.

"I wanted to tell you the truth." Lan Zhan didn't let himself be interrupted. "That I liked you back. Without any expectations. That I didn't understand, but that it didn't matter. That I could like you without understanding why. That I wasn't asking for anything, just wanted you to know. That I wanted to help, in any way you'd let me."

"Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan…" Wei Ying sighed, vision suddenly blurred. He drew a deep breath. "But I wasn't there."

"Mn." Lan Zhan nodded. "I asked your sister where I could find you…"

"But she didn't know," Wei Ying finished for him. No one knew, except one person. "And Jiang Cheng wouldn't give you my address if you held him at gunpoint."

"Your brother knows you're here." It had the structure of a question but it was spoken as a statement, the same kind of incredulous as the look Lan Zhan was giving him. All things considered, it was kinda fair, Wei Wuxian thought as he barked a laugh.

"Yeah," he said, shoulders shaking a little as he snickered. "He's the designated secret keeper."

Lan Zhan just stared, wordlessly.

Wei Ying's smile gained an edge at the unspoken question. He had to clear his throat before he answered. "We're… not quite alright yet, but… Ah, how do I say this? He's the better judge of the situation? With, uhm, aunt Yu, I mean. It's… complicated."

Honestly, when wasn't it?

"I… see." Lan Zhan really didn't sound like he did, but didn't press, continuing his story instead. "Your sister was able to tell me which city you were in. So I… applied for a job."

Wait. Pause. Rewind.

"You work here?!" Wei Ying felt his jaw go slack.

"As an attorney. At 'Xiao and Song'," Lan Zhan confirmed, then looked back at Wei Ying. "Civil law. With focus on LGBTQ+ rights. I passed the bar last year."

"You…" There was so much to unpack in that statement that Wei Ying couldn't quite get the words together fast enough. At the back of his mind he was aware he should probably congratulate Lan Zhan on his degree but he was too stunned by the other, more important implications. "You've moved here? For work? All because… Because… You were looking for me?"

"Mn."

"Lan Zhan!" His amazing friend who, for some reason, in spite of having a great new life had been desperate to find him. "But you… But I…"

"Wei Ying," he spoke so, so softly, but with clear intent to stop any protest Wei Ying might have wanted to utter. It worked. Wei Ying's mouth fell shut, taking his friend in with a bright, wide gaze. "I missed you. I have no expectations. I just… missed you."

Warmth spread in Wei Ying's chest over the tender words, like a dying flame rekindled.

"Lan Zhan..." He didn't quite know what to say, oddly touched. "It's how you knew, isn't it? I'm not the only trans person you've met."

"There was a client," Lan Zhan admitted. "They made me think of you. I have wanted to ask you since. I wanted to know if… If I made a mistake."

He didn't specify what mistake he feared being guilty of. He didn't really have to.

For a while Wei Ying just looked at him.

"Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan…" He sighed, a small but genuine smile stealing itself onto his lips. "You… you're something else, you know that?"

Lan Zhan didn't reply, but there was something vulnerable in his expression.

"I missed you too."

Lan Zhan's eyes snapped back to Wei Ying's face, full of naked hope and a surprise so honest and pure that Wei Ying's heartstrings almost snapped. He could accept it. He could accept a friend longing for his company, even as his heart hammered against his chest like it was trying to escape its utter desolation.

"I couldn't have expected you to know something I didn't realize until much later." He hadn't realized there was tension around his friend's eyes until it relaxed.

Wei Ying took him in, his entire appearance and noted that although perfectly poised and immaculately dressed, beneath it all there was an exhaustion, a tension he didn't recognize. He thought about their meeting – the collision of two bodies launched out of their orbit – and everything else Lan Zhan had told him and a question dragged itself on his tongue that refused to be swallowed back in.

"Say, Lan Zhan… Since we are being so honest..." He asked before he could have thought better of it. "Why aren't you in Suzhou yet, for real? You always went home at least two weeks ahead of the festival. Did something happen?"

If there was something happening with Lan Zhan's family… Well, Wei Ying had missed enough opportunities to be a good friend in all the years they had been apart, or even before that. If Lan Zhan wanted to be his friend, Wei Ying was returning that tenfold. A secret for a secret, a truth for a truth.

If Lan Zhan wanted, that was.

For a second Wei Ying wasn't sure, but then the broad shoulders slumped, heaving like a weight was being lifted off them.

"I didn't always intend to go," Lan Zhan admitted. "Brother convinced me at the last moment. I wish he hadn't."

Their eyes met and Wei Ying felt a sudden heat spread through his cheeks at the intensity of Lan Zhan's gaze. He didn't take the bait, waiting patiently instead.

"I came out to my uncle. After the bar." Lan Zhan's gaze fell to the ground again, and Wei Ying already knew what he was about to say, aching dread settling painfully in his chest. "He did not… react well. He tried to set me up immediately afterwards."

"Aw man..." Wei Ying tried to sound both gentle and sympathetic without being too pitying. In his experience that never helped. "Yeah, I get that you didn't want to go home after that."

"Mn." Lan Zhan nodded, but said no more.

"Was she at least pretty?" Wei Ying tried to joke, unable to bear that forlorn expression on Lan Zhan's face and incapable of thinking of anything better to cheer his friend up. It would have been easy in the past, but now, with years containing entire lifetimes between them he didn't know anymore how to make Lan Zhan laugh.

But then Lan Zhan's lips twitched a little, so maybe not all was lost.

"Luo Qingyang," he answered, like Wei Ying was supposed to know the vaguely familiar name. Lan Zhan responded to his confused frown with his own and went on to explain. "You were in the drama club together. She was… Juliet. To your Romeo."

Very few guys had been in the drama club at that time, so Wei Ying had usually gotten the main male protagonist. He had loved it. It had been one of the reasons why he had joined the drama club in the first place. His co-star in all of that...

"Mianmian!" He exclaimed, eyes bright with delight. "It's been ages since I've last…"...Seen her. Seen anyone, he didn't say, schooled his expression and laughed instead. "I can't believe they tried to set you up with Mianmian! How is she?"

"Mn," Lan Zhan made a small sound out agreement that amused Wei Ying, before he answered. "She is well. Studying. Also law. She will take the bar next year."

"All of you are so smart…" Wei Ying chuckled, fond with more memories. "You know I made out with her once?" He promptly laughed at Lan Zhan's expression. "Relax, it wasn't as good as with you."

Their eyes met again and Wei Ying saw something like hope spark in Lan Zhan's eyes, which…

Wei Ying stopped. He let his gaze wander around, collecting his thoughts. He startled as he realized he was almost home, the agonizing minutes he usually needed reduced to nothing in the presence of his friend. The ache that had gnawed at his limbs earlier had all but disappeared, replaced by a longing ache in his heart.

"Lan Zhan," he found himself speaking without the input of his mind. "You said you liked me, so you should know… I don't intend to have surgery." He saw Lan Zhan open his mouth, probably to assure him once more of his pure intentions, which Wei Ying didn't need to hear. "I know, I know, you have no expectations, and I'm not saying we have to, but… My feelings for you never changed. I still like you, but I'm also… I'm a man Lan Zhan, but I'm not adjusting my body. Not to that degree."

"Is it a financial issue?" Lan Zhan asked after a pause and Wei Ying cut him off before he could continue with something ridiculous like an offer to pay.

"It's… not not about money, but…" He thought for a moment about how to say what he wanted to say. "Regardless of that, I refuse to go through all the legal hoops that this government would demand of me, like I'm supposed to beg them just to be who I am. And... Besides that…" He took a deep breath. "I think I'd like to have another child."

"Another…" There was a strangled sound, which he ignored, forcing himself to voice what he'd been struggling to put into words for a while now.

"I want to give it one more try. Voluntarily," Wei Ying found it difficult to say, despite the thought of a baby in his arms filling him with a warmth he wouldn't have expected mere years ago. "With someone I actually like this time."

"This time." There was something very wrong with the tone of Lan Zhan's voice, and as Wei Ying looked up at him, realization hit him with the force of a freight train.

"Oh! Oh no!" Lan Zhan's eyes were akin to saucers, and Wei Ying vaguely thought he had never seen his friend express shock so openly. "Fuck, I'm so dumb! Of course you don't know! How would you know?!"

Of course that very same moment, before Lan Zhan had any chance of collecting himself, a cheerful shout echoed through the street in an all too familiar, youthful voice. "BABA!!!"

Wei Ying winced. In the way life usually was – his life in particular – before Wei Ying could come up with a single word of explanation, there was the flurry of movement, and a warmth enveloping his leg – the better one.

"Baba, baba, you're home!"

Wei Ying's eyes fell down to the source of the excited noise to have two mischievous gray eyes reflected back at him. An unbidden smile spread on his face.

"A-Yuan!" He shifted around a little until he could safely run his fingers through the child's hair, even as he was keenly aware of the man next to him. "Have you been waiting for me?"

There was a twinkle and a nod, his very own baby's face beaming up at him with unabashed adoration. A tiny hand wrapped itself around his wrist and just like that the last of the day's stress fell away. He looked back at Lan Zhan. It was difficult to describe the expression his friend was giving him, frozen with disbelief, shock and something too close to horror, as his mind seemed to be rearranging and reevaluating every piece of information known to him. Finding no point in delaying the inevitable, Wei Ying braced himself and went for it.

"Lan Zhan, this is a-Yuan. He's mine. Gave birth to him and all." He made a point to smile, although Lan Zhan's expression remained unchanged. Deciding to give him the space he needed to get himself together, Wei Ying turned his attention back to his child. "A-Yuan, this is Lan Zhan. He's an old friend of mine from school. Want to introduce yourself?"

"Hello!" A-Yuan said before Wei Ying even finished the sentence. "I'm a-Yuan and I'm already four years old! I like butterflies and bunnies! Baba gave me Radish and a coloring book for my birthday. I was four last month! I love my baba bestest! But I love xiao-shushu und Qing-guma and granny and uncle Shi lotsa too!"

It was an altogether perfect introduction, and Wei Ying felt pride and love thrumming through his heart with a strength he hadn't believed to be possible. He watched the mental math behind Lan Zhan's eyes, a complicated expression spreading on his friend's face. He decided to give him another moment to complete the mental calculations and focused on something else that a-Yuan had reminded him of.

"Speaking of, where's your xiao-shushu?" Wei Ying looked around, then with growing suspicion back at the child still wrapped around his leg. "Did you ditch him again?"

Mischief spread on a-Yuan's face as he hid in Wei Ying's thigh.

"A-Yuan." Wei Ying narrowed his eyes at him, gently scolding. "We've talked about this. No walking around on your own. What if something happened?"

"But I'm with you," came the simple answer. "I have to help you walk. You said! To help you walk I have to take your hand. I saw you and gege wasn't holding your hand, so I came to help."

"Ah, so filial, a-Yuan…" Wei Ying looked up to the skies, silently begging the heavens for strength while fighting a ferocious blush. This child of his was as much a blessing as he was a huge trouble. The best kind of trouble, if Wei Ying was honest.

"A-Yuan!"

He was still busy trying to change his smile into something more stern, when as if on cue the uncle in question appeared around the corner, calling for his nephew, looking just as frantic as Wei Ying expected him to be. He waited for Wen Ning's eyes to find them, before he looked back down at a-Yuan.

"See how worried Wen Ning is? You can't do this, a-Yuan." The child's expression fell. "Go tell him you're alright and apologize for running away."

A-Yuan didn't waste a single second, rocketing towards his uncle with an excited call.

With his child safe in the most dependable arms that there were, Wei Ying turned to Lan Zhan again. His friend's eyes were closed, face pulled into a tight expression, lips pressed into a thin line, all of which told him what conclusion Lan Zhan had reached.

"It was part of the reason," Wei Ying said, because he knew Lan Zhan would never ask and he wanted his friend to know. "But it wasn't all of it."

Lan Zhan's eyes opened, his look agonized but not pitying, Wei Ying realized.

"There were many things going on," he said. "It was all so fucked up… I knew I couldn't keep him, and somehow I figured… Might as well go together. In the end we both survived, funny that."

"The father. The father is…" Lan Zhan trailed off, couldn't bring himself to say the name, but he didn't have to. Just as Wei Ying didn't have to answer other than with a rueful smile. After all, there was only one option. Lan Zhan drew a deep breath. "Was it… Did he…"

Here too, Wei Ying knew what he was asking, felt it like the edge of a knife against his skin.

"I don't want to talk about it." He swallowed, a prickling at the corners of his eyelids. "Not yet, at least. I'll tell you the story another time."

Lan Zhan nodded. Worried his jaw. Wei Ying waited.

"Was that why you… left?" His voice was so quiet that if Wei Ying wasn't paying attention, he probably wouldn't have noticed he had said anything at all.

"To put it in the words of aunt Yu, whores aren't welcome under her roof. She threatened to leave uncle Jiang, if he kept supporting me. It's fine," he added quickly when he saw Lan Zhan's face darkening. "Uncle Jiang gave me the trust fund he had for me, which wasn't little, I have a job and I get some aid from the government too. There's also granny's pension and everyone else is working. You don't have to worry, Lan Zhan, we get by."

Lan Zhan looked like he wanted to say something cutting, but luckily they were interrupted by Wen Ning joining them, a-Yuan in his arms. He was probably getting too big for that, but he knew first hand that Wen Ning could lift a full-sized adult without breaking a sweat so he wasn't very worried for either of them.

"Wei-ge, welcome home," Wen Ning greeted him. His eyes wandered to Lan Zhan for a brief moment, then to Wei Ying's hands which were still scraped. "Is everything alright?"

"More than!" Wei Ying ignored the look, grinning and watched a-Yuan beam at him. "Everything's perfect, look who I met in town! You remember Lan Zhan, right? He was in the same class with Wen Qing. Turns out he works here!"

Wei Ying managed to say all of that in one breath before he even realized he was doing it, yet consciously leaving out the bar and without bothering to detail exactly how the 'bumping' went down. Wen Ning took it all in, then gave Lan Zhan a polite smile, his dark eyes meeting Lan Zhan's squarely.

"I know of Lan-xianbei," he said slowly, cautiously polite, before his expression settled into a smile and he inclined his head in greeting. "We've never met officially."

There was a brief round of long overdue introductions, which Wei Ying was happy to ignore in favor of watching a-Yuan grow increasingly fascinated with Lan Zhan. It etched the lines around Wei Ying's smile deeper into his features, in a way he hasn't felt for a long time.

"A-Yuan." he couldn't help but pinch one of the chubby cheeks, after a little shifting of weight. "You keep looking at Lan Zhan like that, he'll think you like him."

"Pretty gege," was all a-Yuan had to say to that, a smile splitting his face, while Lan Zhan's ears turned red. Wei Ying laughed, alight with surprise that the one tell-tale sign of his shyness still remained. Lan Zhan was looking at a-Yuan with increasing curiosity, that pained line from earlier disappearing from his features, slowly replaced by wonder instead.

Wei Ying only looked away when he felt a tiny finger poke at his cheek, angling his head towards a-Yuan to listen to whatever secret his son wanted to share.

"Will pretty gege stay for dinner?" A-Yuan whispered through his hands, causing a complicated set of feelings to run through Wei Ying's chest.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but Lan-shushu can't stay." Wei Ying mock pouted at his son. "He has a flight to catch later."

"Why?" A-Yuan asked, as he did all the time.

"He has to visit his family," Wei Ying answered.

"Oh…" A-Yuan's face fell. There was no doubt in Wei Ying's mind had the answer been anything else, he would have kept asking, but if there was one word a-Yuan understood better than anyone, it was 'family'. It didn't mean he liked it. "But… But I heard! I heard that we will have a party tonight! I cleaned my room, and I did a picture for teacher, and helped granny bake! I was the bestest and uncle said I could stay up extra long tonight 'cause then baba would live forever!"

"I didn't say forever," Wen Ning corrected him timidly, but neither of them paid attention to him, the poor soul. A-Yuan only heard what he wanted to hear, and Wei Ying was too busy making sure his heart didn't burst. He still sometimes couldn't quite believe how much he loved this child.

"Me too." It came unexpectedly from beside him, and when Wei Ying turned to look he found Lan Zhan looking almost as surprised as he felt. "I mean, I also usually stay up longer on Chuxi."

A-Yuan's smile eclipsed the sun. Lan Zhan returned it with an expression so impossibly soft that Wei Ying's heart almost did burst then.

"Pretty gege can stay, and his family can come too, and I will draw everyone a picture!" A-Yuan all but vibrated with bare excitement that Wei Ying felt bad that he had to chide him.

"A-Yuan, do we tell people what they can and can't do, or do we ask?" He had picked the gentlest way possible, but his son still hid his face in his uncle's neck, utterly dejected.

To be fair, Lan Zhan looked rather stricken himself. It was adorable to watch and Wei Ying… Wei Ying knew that no matter whatever feelings he might be harboring, he only came as a set with his son. There was no possible way of heaping that responsibility on another person from the get go, on top of everything else, and yet. And yet. Lan Zhan was regarding a-Yuan with such fondness that it did strange things to Wei Ying's heart, and just like that courage bloomed in Wei Ying's chest.

"How about a compromise? Lan Zhan," he asked carefully. "You still have a few hours left until you have to be at the airport, don't you? Would you… Would you like to come inside?"

"Yes, yes, yes! Please, pretty gege, pretty please." A-Yuan loved the idea, immediately reaching his arms out in silent demand to be held. Wei Ying could only watch as Wen Ning oh so carefully leaned forward and tightened his hold so that a-Yuan could safely launch himself into Lan Zhan's open, waiting arms. He bet Lan Zhan hadn't even noticed how he held them out in a response that had seemed completely automatic.

"A-Yuan," Wei Ying reprimanded him gently, doing everything he could to ignore the adorable pout that pressed into Lan Zhan's shoulder. It was difficult to do with his heart singing like that.

"I would hate to intrude," Lan Zhan replied hesitantly, his eyes not leaving a-Yuan for a second and Wei Ying felt his heart constrict.

"I don't think anyone would mind," Wen Ning said, smiling gently.

"It won't be an issue, Lan Zhan, really." Their eyes met. "We still have a lot to… catch up on."

There was a spark that darkened Lan Zhan's eyes briefly, something heavy settling in the air between the two of them. Chance had brought Lan Zhan back into his life, and Wei Ying wanted to hold on. In any way he was allowed to. As long as he was allowed to.

"And you could meet… You could meet my family." Warmth spread deep in Wei Ying's chest as the word 'family' echoed in his mind, before he added in a whisper. "If you like."

"Wei Ying…" Finally, after what felt like an entire eternity, Lan Zhan spoke, the softest of smiles spreading on his face, gentle as the first rays of the sun on a misty morning. "I would very much love to meet your family."

"Great!" Wei Ying felt the smile split his face from one ear to another and amidst the cheers of his child that echoed the ones in his heart and started towards the door that Wen Ning held open for him. "Come on in then! Let's give everyone the shock of their life that I brought home such a handsome man!"

"Wei Ying…" It was spoken as a reprimand but it sounded like a chuckle.

"Hi, handsome! You're Lan Zhan, right? I've heard all about you!" Somewhere in his memory a cheerful voice greeted the most beautiful youth that there ever was. "I'm Wei Wuxian. I'll let you call me Wei Ying."

The door fell shut to the sound of Wei Ying's laugh.

#vedrividia #wangxianLNY21 #*LNYfic21 #*LNYgifts21

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they-callme-ami · 4 years ago

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Playing with Fire, Part 1 (Tobias x Fem!MC)

Word count: 1030

@kingliamsbitch @theeccentricbibliophile @aylamwrites

@matsuosdique @tyrils-star @this-person-is-busy

You never expected to be in this scenario. You walked closer, approaching him from behind. It had been months since the attack had happened, but that wasn’t the start of these feelings. This was a years’ worth of pent up feelings. You were a dam ready to explode, so you decided to open the floodgates.

“Tobias? Can we talk?” you placed a hand on him, and in those moments, the events of your year came crashing back down. Where did it all start? Oh yeah...it started at the diner.

You and Aurora had just gone out for a bite to eat. Next thing you know, into action, and that wasn't the worst part---you'd never complain about saving a life. But, then he showed up and ignited something inside of you.

"...both did great in there.....want a change of pace….our trauma needs more cool and motivated doctors…."

You couldn't focus on his words, clearly directed at Aurora. Just him. He had light brown skin you imagined would turn bronze in the sun….his eyes looked like pools of fire, with freckles peppered around his nose that looked like the ashes. He caught a glimpse at you and smiled, and you could only watch him drive off.

The next time you saw him---that euphoria you felt? That heart-beat-skipping feeling? Screw that. Tobias Carrick was the definition of a fuckboy. Not the irritating, dick-pic sending, ruin your credit kind, no no no. The kind with a stupidly cocky smirk, teasing you constantly and getting on every nerve you had. And he was a doctor--so this prick knows every single nerve you have. And he definitely knew it too; competing against you for patients....but it allowed you to see him more often. Trying so hard to tease you and rile you up using Aurora against you…..even if it did get you riled up in other ways, seeing him put Ethan in his place. Ethan told you about what an ass he was in college too, sounded like he had a big head and a bigger ego….though, some of his pranks sounded utterly hilarious. Oh, but what really got you ticked off? That fucking softball game.

First off, who the hell looked that good in orange--bright ass Garfield orange at that. Second off, trying to chat you up while you grab some water was just so cliche...so cliché you almost choked while he seemed to flirt with you. You should have just ignored him, but you kept thinking with your emotions and not your head.. Why-- why did you keep staring at those damn fiery eyes? Why did you stare at those eyes that made you want to hold him...made you want to pour your heart out of all the stress that you’d endured...made you want him. This fool was about to make you act up in front of everyone on the field---you’d never chugged water so fast in your life. You never wanted to see that man again. Until you did.

“Save it, Ethan. This is bigger than anything going on between us or our hospitals. Valentine’s not dying on our watch.” That voice shook you out of spiraling. You looked at Aurora, god, that woman was an angel. No really--you had to have died already if Tobias was putting aside his ego and rivalry for you. He looked at you with those eyes...the fire inside of them was for you, determination to save you.

“I knew you were a good guy deep down. Like deep down. Very, very deep down.” You teased and walked up to the glass between you, your friends...and Tobias.

He chuckled and smiled, “Don’t go telling nobody.” Despite his cocky grin upon his face...you could sense the sadness in his voice. It hurt, seeing those normally fiery eyes strained with anguish and fear. Tobias Carrick--fearful? You definitely were dying if he was scared...but you held in there. You looked at the bed Rafael had been in...you thought about Danny too...so much Danny had wanted to do, but he died just as he lived: helping people. And Raf....and what if he couldn’t pull through either? Sora...his grandmother...your friends...it’d break them. Same for you...you had just spent weeks and weeks ignoring and rejecting Tobias to focus on saving Edenbrook, barely seeing any of your friends in that time either….was it worth it? What if you never said goodbye to your loved ones? ……What if...what if you never saw those pools of fire again? The thought of never even giving it a chance, so focused on your work and helping others...there was never a moment for yourself since you entered Edenbrook. If, no--When you and Raf got through this, you weren’t going to do this anymore. You were going to go after what you wanted.

“Yes? Dr. Valentine...you needed to ask me something?” Tobias pulled you back to the present. You smiled...your hands cupped his cheeks, just the soft fuzz of stubble against them, and leaned in to softly kiss him. It was innocent enough, but it conveyed something you couldn’t have said in words either. His hands grabbed onto your waist and his arms enraptured you full on as the two of you embraced and kissed. Just as slow as it happened, it slowly ended as well...the two of you looked at one another, your eyes gazing into his hazel ones.

“Not...not that it was bad….but the hell was that Valent--”

“Would you like to go out to dinner when your shift is over, Tobias? And...it’s Casey.” You smirk and run your hands down his arm as you pull away. “I’m free at 8 and...I’m tired of you giving me the runaround, dummy.”

He snorted a bit and laughed, covering his mouth. “Don’t ever call me a dummy again--and….and..” he grabs your hands and licks his lips before he says, “I’d love to see you tonight.”

The both of you smiled at one another...it was clear now, just how much you needed those fiery eyes in your life.

#tobias carrick #open heart tobias #OH tobias #tobias open heart #tobias x mc #choices open heart #open heart #open heart 2 #choices open heart 2 #choices #pb choices #playchoices #choices stories you play #choicesgame #fanfic

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darkdevasofdestruction · 5 years ago

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Day 13 : Pining - Sal Fisher

Okay, first of all, yay! For learning a new word! At first I read this as ‘Pinning’ instead of ‘Pining’ and I had a whole different concept of how this would go. So when I learnt what this super weird looking word meant, I had to spontaneously change the character. But I think I made the right choice <3

Art by https://iron-dude.tumblr.com

“Sal, are you home? Are you alone? We need to talk, it’s very important. Code red urgent.” I texted Sal, biting my lip as I clutch the letter in my hand really hard, trying not to break it. “Yeah, you can come over. What happened? Is it the cult again?” he texted back almost instantly, making me smile at his concern. “No bb it’s oki. I’ll be there in a sec. Love u.” I send him immediately, already on my way out to Addison Apartments, where Sal was already waiting in the doorway.

I hug him tightly, guiding him to his room where we stood criss-crossed on the bed facing each other, not really daring to say anything for a while before I sighed, my hands trembling.

“Kat...? What happened? Can I help in any way? Or do you want to just talk?” he asked with so much worry in his voice that I almost started crying. “Promise you wont hate me? No matter what I’m gonna tell you? I love you so much that I don’t want to lose you.” I usher, no daring to look up just yet. “What...? Kat, sweetheart, you know I could never hate you. What’s going on, please tell me.” he held my hands, trying to calm me down. “Remember when I told you that I applied for a few top tier Vet Universities in the country? And I had to go away for about a week or so to go around and take a bunch of Entrance exams and I had all those panic attacks and depression break downs and whatever?” I held his hands, finally able to find my voice. “Yeah, of course I remember. Why, what happened? Are you okay? Did you have another panic attack or some of those moods and you didn’t tell me?” he asked, sort of panicked. “Read this.” I hand him the envelope and he gently takes it, reading it out loud. “Dear Miss Katrina Black, we are happy to inform you that you got accepted to our University...Oh my Goodness, Kat, that’s insane! This is the best Vet Uni in the country, you’re amazing! I knew you could do it!” he threw his arms around me, hugging me tightly as I lost my balance and fell on the pillows, giggling a bit. “Yeah...It is great, isn’t it? I wasn’t expecting to make it.” I chuckled nervously, hugging him back. “I was sure you’d make this. You’ve worked so hard these years, it would have been impossible not to. And besides, you’ve always been so smart and you love animals so much, you’ll make an amazing Vet!” he tried to hype me up, but despite how happy I was, I was still conflicted. “Sal...It’s in another state. I will have to move to another state by myself for 6 years, and I’ll only be able to come back home for holidays, as far as I know. It’s...Pretty far from here and I don’t think I can afford train tickets. You know how bad we’re doing with money, especially now that we were finally able to find a slightly bigger apartment in which I will be able to move in once I’m out of Uni...Which is in another city too. This is what I wanted to talk about, Sal. We have to figure out what to do.” I raised again, looking down at him, and I could see his eyes widening in realisation from behind the mask. “Ah...You’re right. I didn’t realse that until now. You’ve always been the one to think of everything.” he chuckled slightly. “That’s why I said I hoped you wouldn’t hate me. I won’t be able to be here and see each other too often. And you know how distance takes its toll on relationships...I don’t want that to happen to us too. I’m...Kinda scared.” I mutter the last bit, my lip, feeling tears threatening to spill. “Baby, it’s okay. We love each other and that’s what matters, right? 6 years will fly like a breeze, especially since we’re both in Uni, it’s gonna be a lot of work and we won’t even realise when we already get to see each other again. And besides, we have phones to text and call each other, right?” he tried to reason, and got into a sitting position too, putting his hands on my shoulders. “Won’t you...Y’know...Get bored of being alone or something? There’s only so many holidays per year...” I looked away, insecurity and nervousness taking over me. “Kat...Remember the time when we met? And then, when you first saw my face?” Sally asked all of a sudden, making me turn my gaze to his, raising my eyebrow in confusion. “What do you mean...? Of course I remember. What does it have to do with this situation?” I blinked, trying to understand the connection, but instead, he took off his mask, looking at me with a smile. “You were the shyest kid in class, and yet, when the bullies started making fun of me, you were the only one who said something. And then they started making fun of you, and you started crying, and then I started beating them up, and we all got suspended. You’ve always been so sensitive and emotional, I guess your empathy is what brought us together.” he had tears in his eyes, remembering that memory, but it kinda made me cringe. “Uh...Yeah, you got attracted to a cry-baby, great job, darling.” I chuckled awkwardly, wiping away a tear from the corner of my eye. “A cry-baby who’s the sweetest and kindest person in the world. Remember when some idiot in class thought it’d be funny to unclasp my mask in class, and you got sooo pissed off that you hugged my face to your chest to hide it while you yelled at the kids and tried to put back my mask without looking? But then the teacher came so it was only the two of us in the class, and I let you look and you just kissed my cheek and put my mask back? Jeez, that was such a long time ago, but I remember so well. I started crying, and yet, you call yourself cry-baby? Pshhhh, as if.” he chuckled in amusement at the memory that I remembered so fondly, as I kissed his cheek now too, just like back then. “I can’t forget that, Sugar Plum Fairy Sally. Your pigtails were so cute, I always loved making them for you.” I grinned, taking Sal’s hair and pulled up his beautiful long blue hair, making it seem as if he had pigtails again. “My point is, Kat, that my heart has been with you since that moment, and there’s no way that will change. So really, go there, smash your way through Uni, and when this is over, we’ll both be adults and we can...Uh...I don’t know what adults do, but we’ll be independent. At least financially.” he shrugged, making it obvious that he doesn’t want to back away from this. “Y’know...While I can’t take you with me at the Students’ Hall during Uni...We can move in together in my new apartment after I finish Uni. It will be only mine, after all. It would be nice not to be alone...And if it’s you, then...Well...” I looked up at him with a timid smile, which mirrored his, as he put his arms around me again, kissing my forehead. “It will all go well, dear. I promise.” he reassured me, and I could finally feel at peace.

Of course, these 6 years have been very difficult, because we always wanted to be close to one another and we missed each other so much. Holidays only became teases as the time spent together was so short, yet meaningful, and having to go back to Uni only made the cut run even deeper.

We would cross days, weeks, months and years, making small progress and objectives out of each holiday passed, each year passed, until the 6 years finally passed and we had such a powerful longing for each other, that it almost seemed like our hearts would break each day until we would see each other again.

His Uni was only 4 years long, so he finished faster, and I was SO proud seeing him in his graduation robes, and then him throwing the cap in the air with the rest of his colleagues. I couldn’t help myself taking so many pics of my beautiful boy.

The same happened vice versa, when I finished and he came over for my graduation, it turned into an outright photoshoot without even realising. And even better, Larry, Ash, Todd and Neil were able to come over too, so we managed to have such a cool party that everyone enjoyed.

The final exams and my license presentation went by very fast, and after that, I was able to get my Masters and PhD in no time, despite having to stay there more than 6 years, but it was worth it.

In the mean time, Sal would constantly text me motivational, loving, emotionally supportive things, knowing how prone to depression I am and that it’s still very hard for me to keep the straight path towards the light.

When I was finally over with my education, my parents drove over to help me pack everything there, then we got directly to my new apartment that I decorated the way I dreamt.

What I wasn’t expecting, however, was to see Sally and the rest there, with lots of “Welcome Home” decorations, balloons and all that, making me start sobbing, completely overwhelmed by emotions, not even able to talk.

“I missed you so much, baby. Welcome home.” Sally muttered into my ear as he hugged me tightly, swinging me around a bit. “I love you so much, Sal, I love you so much. I missed you so so so fucking much, I can’t believe we’re finally at this point where I don’t have to be cities away from you and I can see you every godamn day when I come home, and wake up with you every morning.” I cry into his chest, clutching the back of his shirt tightly, still trembling a bit from the emotions. “It’s okay, sweety, we’re finally together and nothing can change us. We will be okay now, I promise. I love you so much, Kat. So much. I’m so glad we’re finally together now.” he held me tight to his chest, stroking my hair reassuringly, as he always did. “Yo, dudes, enough with the depressing shit, let’s par-TAAAAY!” Larry shouted at us, making us laugh as he brought CDs of Sanity’s Fall, AC/DC, Dir en Grey, Linkin Park and many others, while Ash brought the snacks and Todd and Neil brought the drinks, while my parents kissed my cheeks before leaving us to our party.

All day and night we gossiped, exchanged all the stories possible, stupid or not, we sang karaoke, played video and board games, got shitfaced drunk out of happiness and all that, and God, was it so godamn fine having everyone together again.

Of course, the next day they had to leave, except for Sally who moved in with me, thankfully, but now it would be much easier to go and visit our friends.

The next day, we just stood cuddled together in bed, our legs intertwined, our arms around each other, occasionally kissing each other and confession our love to each other here from time to time, when we wanted to break the comforting silence.

“I missed you so much, baby. I have no words to explain, but it hurt so much knowing that you’re so far away. Every day was so painful, even though I had friends and hung out with them, went to a few parties, conventions and what not. Studying managed to take my mind away from that dark feeling that kept eating me away, but at night...Gosh, the nights were the worst. I spent so many times crying ‘cause I was feeling so lonely and I just wanted to go to you and have you in my arms all night. Sometimes it was so godamn hard not to give up everything...But I had to. That’s what I always say. I have to. I must. And I did it, and now, I’m finally with you, just like I’ve always dreamt.” I poured my heart out to him, stroking his smooth hair, gazing lovingly at his face. “I know, honey, I know, but it’s okay now. I had a lot of help from our friends, and now that Lisa married dad, making Larry my brother made it better, otherwise, I don’t know what I’d have done. Uni was tough as all hell, but I had you as my ambition to keep on going so we could finally meet up to this point. You’re a doctor now, Kat. Doctor Kitty. I couldn’t let you down, y’know? I had to be in your league. Now we can both make money and travel the world, just like we’ve always dreamt of. Can you believe we’ve been together for what? 10 years or so? Unbelievable. And you didn’t get bored of me. You’re still my girlfriend, do you even realise how lucky and proud I am to say that I’m your boyfriend? Jeez, I’m still shook sometimes when I think back at everything we’ve been through and how happy I feel every time I think of you, of your smile, of your gentle touch, your soft lips, how warm you are, how mesmerising your chocolate perfume is, how pretty you look all the time without even trying, how much I love having you in my arms when we sleep together...And...And...Even when...When...We’d make love, it felt like the most ethereal thing in the world, like I was in a dream. I love you, Kat. So much, it’s unreal.” he whispered the last bit, as if afraid that if he said any louder, the spell will break. “I love you, Sal. Nothing is ever going to change that. I am yours and you are mine, forever and ever.” I kissed him, hooking my pinky to his, to show him that I pinky promise everything will be okay. “Forever and ever.” he repeated after me, in a voice as sweet as never before.

#sally face x reader #sally face imagine #sally face #sal fisher imagine #sal fisher x reader #sal fisher #larry johnson #ashley campbell #fluffy self-cember #fluffy #self indulgent

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my-proof-is-you · 5 years ago

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Cruel Summer - Ch. 4 (final)

Summary: You’ve known Dean Winchester all your life. You grew up next door to him playing, fighting, and learning. Now that you’re both in college, you feel like you’re growing apart.

You’ve sworn to make the summer count, and while a certain deal with your best friend seems like a good idea, your heart may feel the deal is one step away from cruel.

*I do not own any gifs or pics

**Inspired by the song Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift

Masterlist

You and Dean had decided to spend the evening in the local bar. The two of you basically grew up there—the owner was Ellen: long time friend of both your parents and wife of the man who you saw as an uncle: Bobby.

Bobby owned the garage where Dean worked. He had taken Dean under his wing as soon as he saw the talent Dean had with cars.

Bobby and Ellen’s kids, Jo and Ash, were hanging out with you and Dean in-between waiting tables.

“So you and Dean have been spending a lot of time together, huh?” Jo asked, giving you a nudge as you took a swig of beer. Dean and Ash were playing a game of pool while the two of you watched from a distance.

You rolled your eyes. “Please, Jo, be an adult. We just have a...mutual interest.”

“Getting off?” she asked with a smirk. You nearly spit out your drink of beer. “I’ve seen the way you look at him, Y/N.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, your eyebrows furrowed.

“It just means...be careful,” she says, giving your shoulder a squeeze before heading to a table of men gesturing for another round.

You frowned, sure you knew exactly what she meant even if you didn’t want to.

After that, you started downing drinks. You knew what you would have to do. You couldn’t keep going like this.

The truth was, Dean would only ever see your summer as fun. But you had known since the first time you slept together that to you, it was so much more.

A few hours later, you were stumbling over to Dean, leaning on him for support. Ellen came over to where you, Dean, and Ash were playing pool.

“You best get that girl home, Dean,” she said sternly. “I won’t have her parents coming after me tomorrow for letting their little girl get trashed.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean said, chuckling a little as you gave him a goofy grin.

You stumbled out of the bar, walking toward the Impala with Dean’s support. You leaned against the car, waiting for him to unlock it. You watched his strong hands swiftly turn the key, and you thought about how good those strong hands felt on your body. Then you were sad.

“Why don’t you lay down in back?” Dean asked, an amused smile on his face.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t protest as he opened the door for you, falling into the back seat and taking in the wonderful leather smell.

As the car began to vibrate under you, you began planning what you would say to Dean when he dropped you off.

You thought of how you would tell him that this summer had been one of the best of your life.

You thought of how you would tell him that he had made you feel more confident than you ever had.

You thought of how you would stop yourself from telling him how you really feel so you wouldn’t have to see the pity in his eyes.

Then you started to cry.

The tears slid silently down your face at first. You couldn’t help it, though, when you started sniffing and crying loudly. The alcohol took away your usual control.

“Y/N?” Dean asked, looking at you in the rear view mirror. He put the car in park, and you realized he had stopped in the space between your two houses. “What’s wrong?” He got out of the car and opened the back door, reaching out a hand to help you out.

You took it and got up, tears still streaming down your face. “I’m fine,” you said. The night air sobered you up a bit, your balance returning.

“How many times do I have to tell you,” he said, reaching a hand up to stroke your face, “I know you. And I know you’re not fine.”

You leaned in to his touch for just a moment. “It��s over, Dean.”

“What’s over?” he asked, truly confused.

“Us...this...whatever it is. It’s over.”

“What? Why?” He followed you as you walked around the car and toward your house.

“Because it just is,” you said. You were getting more upset. You didn’t want to do this. You didn’t want to have to come up with fake reasons for why you couldn’t see him anymore.

“That’s not a reason, Y/N!” he yelled, stopping at the end of the sidewalk to your front door.

“You wanna know the reason?” you yelled back as something in you snapped. “Because I’m not sure you do!”

“You’re not making any sense, Y/N!” He looked at his feet, rubbing a hand down his face.

“It’s because I love you, Dean! And it’s stupid, and the worst, and I wish it wasn’t true. But I do!”

He paused for a moment, still looking down. Your heart beat in your throat, and you felt like you were going to puke. Not because of the alcohol, but because you were sure you had just ruined everything.

He slowly looked up, and you held your breath, ready for him to tell you that you were a stupid girl with a crush and that nothing could ever happen between you.

When his eyes met yours, though, you saw a devilish grin on his face.

Before you could even comprehend what was happening, he took three big strides toward you and wrapped you in his arms, his lips slamming into yours.

You melted into the kiss, the tears on your face wetting his cheeks. He pulled back, his eyes dancing between yours as he held your face in his hands.

“I love you, too.”

And just like that, your cruel summer became the best one of your life.

Forevers:

@malfoysqueen14 @divadinag @lynne1993 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @infj-slytherclaw @onethirstyunicorn @sammykb1994 @lilulo-12 @mellorine-paprika @tranquility-or-chaos @collette04 @differentstudentrunaway-e70bf763 @hoboal87 @bi-danvers0 @miraclesoflove @defenderrosetyler @babypink224221 @fabfan00 @calaofnoldor @beatifuldisaster018 @olyamoriarty @satans-0-spawn @coffeebooksandfandom @supernatural3002

Deanies/Jensen:

@tftumblin @deans-baby-momma @akshi8278 @weepingwillowphoenix @playingdeep17 @justanotherwinchester @flamencodiva @caligraphee @emma.penberthy.11 @tranquility-or-chaos @jxackles @supersassyprobablysad

Cruel Summer

@fabfan00 @jamielea81

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btswishes · 5 years ago

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Are you for real?

Kihyun (Vampire Au)

Previous / Next

A/N: Here we go ladies and gentlemen. Part3, sorry for any mistakes made and I hope you like it.

Requested by: Anonymous

Request: “ Hi! I was wondering if you could do a Kihyun vampire au? It can honestly be about anything! I love your work btw! “

Word count: 2,431

Warnings: Swear words, blood, organs mention of death.

—————————————————————

During the ride home Hae didn’t say a word. He looked deep in thought and you didn’t know what to say to him. That night he asked you to sleep in his room just in case that thing comes back. You did feel more calm and comfortable in a room with a locking window and a brother to keep you safe. You were so relaxed that the next day you woke up later than usual.

Breakfast was the same, nothing to serious. You went to study in your room, but the door was constantly open and your brother would check on you a few time in an hour. After the sun started setting around 5, you got up and started thinking what to wear. It was almost time for the unexpected and sudden date you had.

There was this cute winter dress that you loved so much. You paired it up with thick leggings and high-heel boots.It felt warm and comfortable. Fixing your hair a bit and putting the tiniest amount of makeup, you took a look in the mirror.

You were happy, your face was shining bright.In a way it felt like there was some kind of meaning now to your life.It wasn’t just living and studying. You were excited for once. You were going out with someone interesting and kind, you wanted to enjoy this time and remember it for the next 100 or more years. As long as the memory lasted.

There was a small knock on the door frame, when you saw your mother leaning on it. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest and she was looking at you with loving eyes.

“You look amazing sweetie.Going out I presume ?”

“Yes. I think it’s a date...” you mumbled the last part as you looked down at the floor.Your mother pushed herself off the wood and reached out to fix the lose strand of hair trying to run from the elastic.

“You think?”

“Well, he said it’s a date, but I didn’t mean it like that.” you moved side to side a bit uneasy as this was new to you

“If he said it’s a date than it is.Don’t worry about it, just enjoy it.” you turned towards your mother and asked her how you looked “I told you already. No matter what you do ,or what you wear ,you will be beautiful in my eyes. Even if you weren’t who you are, you will still be the prettiest person.”

You ran downstairs to get your boots on. Tightening the coat belt, you took a deep breath.

“Have fun honey.” your mom smiled at you “Oh and...” you looked at her waiting for the end of the sentence “Make sure you have as much fun as you want. Moments like this one don’t last long for us, but the memories we build are always going to be a part of who we are. Enjoy yourself.”

“I will mom.” you waved to her and ran our of the door. The plan was to catch the bus and go to the cafe. But you were surprised when a car stopped next to you.The window rolled down slowly and a boy stepped out. The moon popped out from behind a lonely cloud and illuminated his face. In a way he was reflecting the light around himself, making it look like he was glowing.

“Kihyun?” you were a bit shocked “Why are you here?”

“Well it’s pretty dark outside and I thought I should come pic you up. “ he walked over to you and opened the door, making sure you were sitting comfortably in the car, before jumping in the driver’s seat “ Truth be told I didn’t want you to walk alone at night.Especially when you look this good. That color suits you very well.” you blushed unintentionally and flashed him back a smile

“Thank you.I was going for a warm look.It’s absolutely cold outside and usually I am warm only home.” you placed the seat belt on and Kihyun drove off.

In the meantime your mom had already locked the door. Your dad walked passed her and stopped in his tracks, his head moved side to side before he spoke.

“Why do I smell the faint sent of a corpse?” he looked at your mother with a raised eyebrow

“Don’t look at me like that, there is meat in the fridge.” she slapped his shoulder, when your brother walked down the stairs, hearing the conversation

“Corpse?” he grabbed some milk from the fridge and sat on the table, pouring out some in a glass “Speaking of potential corpses, where is Y/N?” Hae looked around but you were nowhere to be seen

“She went out.”your mom giggled to herself.Your brother’s eyes squinted and he crooked his head to the side, focusing on your mother.

“With who?”

“On a walk.”

“Mom” Hae was focused on her “We have been over this so many times.Why try to lie in the first place?”

“Ok,ok. Your sister is on a date with someone, but I don’t know who he is.” she shrugged, lifting her arms in front of herself in a defensive position.

“Date!?”Both your brother and dad almost jumped out of the house, through the roof

“Fuck!” Hae cussed out as he ran to get his stuff “That rotting son of a bitch came all the way here! So he was the one who busted in her room!”

“Hae what are you talking about?” your mom started panicking a bit after her son’s reaction “You know the boy?”

“Yeah, I know that ass and he is in deep shit when I find him.I will send him 5 feet under ground where he came from!”

“Will you tell us what is going on?” your dad jumped in the conversation as the air was getting tense around the room

“Hae sit down and calm yourself. What is going on!”the table shook after your mother hit it with all her force. Hae stopped running around and decided that it was best to tell the truth from what you told him.

The car ride with Kihyun was very pleasant. You were making small talk when a sudden silence hit the atmosphere. Looking outside the window you saw the same poster as the one on your way home from the supermarket.

“They still have them up?”you asked out-loud and that peeked Kihyun’s interest

“Them?” he asked

“Oh, I was talking to myself, sorry about that.”

“No no. I am actually curious now.”

“Well lately there have been these sightings of some creature ,that apparently hurts people and all that jazz. I was just surprised that the posters the media put up of the this story are still hanging on the trees and buildings. “ you said looking at the night sky

“Do you believe in them?” Kihyun was staring at the road, but this question was pretty serious to him

“Do I believe in the media about this story?Yeah I do, all kinds of creatures exist in the world and most just want to live away from the public’s eye. Do I believe it hurts people? I do believe it could be harming them, but then again I haven’t seen it myself and i don’t know the full story.”

Kihyun was staying quiet, listening closely to your words and thoughts.

“Humans haven’t exactly proven themselves as the calm and peaceful type of creatures.They bully their own kind and even in literature try to kill or exile them as far away as possible-.”

“You know that most eat people right?” he cut you off

“Yes, we are talking about mythology and stories, but have any of the people saying these things actually talked with a creature of the particular kind?No.Plus that there are supermarkets these day.If they wanted meat or blood you can find it online too. We don’t live in the old days anymore, where you had to go to the forest and hunt during the night so you wouldn’t be seen.”

“You are saying that if the creature wanted a particular organ, it can go to a butcher shop?” his voice was higher than usual since he was particularly shocked by your words and way of thinking.

“Well I mean yeah.It’s easy and it’s clean work.Livers, hearts, brains all those things are super easy to buy, since they are a delicacy to a lot of humans.” you were talking and talking when the car suddenly stopped. Your eye’s landed on the parking lot you were at today with your brother.

Kihyun leaned onto the steering wheel and began laughing his heart out. You didn’t know how to react ,so you just waited for him to calm down. It took some time but he ended up relaxing.

“You are an interesting one indeed.I haven’t met anyone like you before in both my lives.” he leaned slowly towards you and for a moment you were expecting a kiss, when he unclasped your seat-belt.

You panicked because of your thought and rushed out of the car, making him smile since he knew what you were expecting. In his own way he was actually enjoying teasing you.

The cafe was still open but there weren’t many people inside. You walked in and the orange haired boy greeted you two.

“Wonho, bring out the cake I made an hour ago.It should be chilled enough.” the boy swiftly stepped inside the kitchen and disappeared from your view. You found a nice cozy place next to the window and sat there.Looking outside you got lost into the moon the same way Kihyun didn’t notice his eyes focusing onto you. It felt strange to him. He would usually have many dates in a week, but this was the first time he couldn’t look away.

Your hair reminded him of the many days he had seen during his life, your face reminded him of the bright sun he used to hide from in the past ,in fear of burning. For a split second he didn’t mind turning into ashes if he had to. During the years he has spent on this earth he had seen many beautiful flowers ,that withered in his arms in one night, leaving their life force with him. Yet this was the first time he didn’t want to harm such a beautiful creature. Kihyun was worried that if he even so as touched you, you would crumble in his hands.Maybe, he thought, if you sat in the moon light you would grow more and stay longer with him.

“Kihyun. Kihyun!” Wonho patted his friend’s shoulder

“Uh?” he looked up at the strong boy with eyes lost in a far away place

“I...I brought the cake you asked for.” Wonho couldn’t speak clearly, confused as to what was happening in front of his eyes.

“Thanks, put the rest back in the fridge or it will melt.”

“Sure.”he was about to leave, when he turned towards his friend again “Weren’t you going to take her to that place?” he was hinting at something you weren’t understanding, but obviously Kihyun did ,as the look in his eyes changed.”You have to, it’s been too long.” Wonho emphasized on the time aspect.

There was a moment of silence before Kihyun looked at your shining eyes.His hand rubbed his chest, grabbing onto the talisman necklace.

“Kihyun?” his name echoed in the empty cafe

“We can go there next time. It’s too cold, she might catch a cold.”

“A cold? When is next time then?” the orange haired boy became a bit aggressive, there was anger in his voice mixed in with worry

“Is something wrong?” you finally broke your silence. Wonho was about to say something, but Kihyun’s words cut him off fast and pretty rude.

“Everything is fine. We were just arguing about something.” he looked at his friend noticing the concern “You can go now.”

“Fine,” turning his back on you two, he placed the empty tray under his arm “Just keep in mind that the cafe is empty, no one is here.” and he left

“Don’t mind him, he has always been like that. Bites hard like a dog.” he passed over the fork and encouraged you to try the cake “I know that it sounds a bit strange, but it kind of reminded me of you.Sweet and smooth like the cream.” he leaned onto his hand waiting for you to say your judgment.

The cake was really good. Not too sweet, nor to bitter it was the perfect balance between textures and flavor. Pulling the fork away from your face, the corners of your lips curved up into a smile. Your pearly teeth peeked from under your lipstick and you turned to face Kihyun.

“It’s super good!” it was so tasty that you couldn’t describe it

“Is that so?” he smiled back at you “ Have more, I made if for you actually.”

You didn’t hesitate to take another bite and another one, you just couldn’t stop yourself. While you were enjoying yourself, in the distance you were being watched by Wonho.

“I just don’t know what is happening!” the boy sighed ”This is out of character for him.”

“Calm down Wonho.” a tall and well build man placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder “It’s strange to me too, but do you have it in you to stop this?”

“Shownu is right.”Jooheon was standing in the darkness observing with everyone “ He looks...happy.”

“He does, but for how long?It’s been days since he last ate anything.” Wonho hit his hand onto the table almost spilling the glass of water

“We all have a choice here.” another boy spoke out “ We can A/ let him enjoy this and watch as he slowly dies, or B/ we can intervene saving him and watch him live his life is sorrow and pain. Which one do you chose?”

“We have been through a lot of things together as a family, we can deal with this too.” Wonho said

“ It’s because we are a family that we can’t do this. What proof do you have he won’t tear that talisman and jump in the sunlight, or starve himself after we quote on quote save him?” Shownu was the oldest in this group and the wisest.

“Wonho.”Jooheon tapped him on the back “Deep down you know Shownu is right.I know how you feel, it pains me too.But let’s just let it happen.”

“Fuck!” the boy yelled out turning his back on the whole lovely scene. What a mess happened just by one fateful meeting.

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starblazerm31 · 5 years ago

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Apprentice April Asks #5 Azalea/Imalia

And here I close out my characters for Apprentice April. Thanks so much for the interest, you guys! Lotsa pics and stuff below the cut.

1. Who is your character’s patron Arcana?

As my MC, her patron Arcana is The Fool.

Imalia's patron Arcana is The Empress.

2. Take us on a tour of your Magical Gateway. (Use pics if you have them!)

Azalea’s gateway has three parts to it. The first part is a snowy forest cast in eternal twilight that gives the snow a pink color. Stars whirl overhead in the sky.

The path goes on and the snow melts and the forest becomes alive with fireflies.

And at the end, the forest clears out onto a sandy beach with a small cottage perched beyond the tideline. The water vivid blue, and stars and nebulae fill the sky above.

Imalia's gateway opens into a misty forest with red leaves on every tree.

The forest leads past what look like the ruins of an ancient castle or temple.

Past the ruins is a long peninsula with a tower right on the edge of a cliff overlooking a sea. This is where Imalia tests her magic without worry of destroying anything in the real world.

3. Does your character rely on The Cards?

Not really. She still does readings at the shop, but otherwise she only heeds the cards when they actually have something to say.

Nope. She doesn't even own a deck. She knows of what's out there in terms of magic, and the Arcana honestly don't even register with her unless something crazy involving them happens. Otherwise...there are bigger, more scary things lurking in the dark that require her attention. And she calls divination "spoiling the fun."

4. Has your character come in contact with any other Arcana? (other than the Devil) Tell us about it.

Nope. Azalea's first encounter with the Arcana was in the main story, and Imalia just doesn't care for the Arcana enough to visit them.

5. Any brushes with demons? (besides the Courtiers)

No, she's been very lucky.

LOL! Demons are such a normal thing to her, she knows a lot of them by name.

6. What is their favorite magically-enhanced thing? (Music, Food, Clothes, etc.)

She loves magically-enhanced food. Especially cake. Cake that sings when you eat it. Cake that changes flavor with every bite. Cake that is actually pie disguised as cake. (you cheeky little pastry you!!)

She really loves magical clothes. She loves a good party, and a chance to dress up is one she won't miss. She loves making sure her outfits are extra. She really loves illusionary fire on her outfits, since she really plays up the phoenix aesthetic. (Hell, Balthazaar is usually her best accessory! A REAL freaking phoenix!) But her favorite thing...magical booze. Oh yeah. Was this vodka? Hell no, it was wine! Or was it mead? No, it's vermouth. Now it's absinthe.

7. In your character’s story, how did they acquire the Stove Salamander?

Azalea bought the stove salamander from a merchant. She got it to help her aunt light fires more easily since she suffered from arthritis.

*singing to the tune of 'I Ain't Got Nobody'* "IIIIIIIIIIIIII ain't got no saaaaaaaalamander..."

8. How did your character meet Asra? Describe the meeting.

It was the Masquerade after her aunt Sylvane had died. She was wandering around the various vendors. Some flashes of brilliant magic caught her attention, and she saw this beautiful creature weaving spells for some children. She approached when the children ran off, and suddenly she was captivated by the sparkling lavender eyes that locked with hers. He produced a small crystal ball and asked if she would like to glimpse into her future. She said yes.

One evening when she was 15, she snuck out of her house and went down to the docks. Her mother had deeply angered and hurt her, and she needed to blow off some steam. Getting into trouble at the docks seemed like a good idea to her frazzled teenage mind. She stalked around the place, looking for a fight. She heard shouts nearby, and went to investigate. She saw a group of thugs chasing a small white-haired boy. At last! She bolted after them and challenged them. They mocked her, but accepted her challenge. She unfortunately found herself in quite a disadvantage as these thugs actually knew how to fight rather well and outnumbered her five to one. Just as things were starting to get really bad, magic began to assail the bullies. They took off running, and Imalia was left pretty battered up. The small white haired boy and a rather large dark-haired boy near her own age came up to her. They thanked her for standing up to those guys, and introduced themselves as Asra and Muriel. Asra healed Imalia's wounds, and as thanks she bought Asra and Muriel dinner. Asra and Muriel were her first friends in Vesuvia, and she visited them at the docks often. They got to witness Imalia single-handedly saving the docks from a fleet of pirates, but that's in the next question.

9. Give us some headcanons of your character with other Arcana characters. Did your character meet them before they died? Were they close?

- Had an encounter with Lucio when she was 13. She and her aunt Sylvane were pouring the ashes of her parents into the water at the docks. From a good distance away Lucio was standing there, discussing some repairs that a few piers needed with his advisors. He happened to glance over and saw Azalea and Sylvane. For just a moment, he and Azalea locked gazes. This made Lucio's blood run cold, as it reminded him of the one thing he had no power over...death.

She and Lucio were a couple for almost three years.

To begin, when she was was 17, pirates attacked the docks. Count Lucio was feverishly ordering a defense, but the enemy was using cannons and catapults that did massive damage. Imalia saw this as an opportunity to test her greater potential, as she had never been allowed to cast major spells since moving to Vesuvia. She begged Lucio to allow her to try. He was skeptical, but had very little options at hand. So he allowed it. Imalia cast her first Dragon Slave and wiped out the entire enemy fleet in one shot. This piqued Lucio's interest. He offered her anything she wanted in return for saving the city. She asked for passage into Prakra so that she could attend the Magical University there. Behind her mother's back, she had applied and been accepted. She just needed to get there. Lucio didn't understand her request, but he granted it.

When she returned from the University, (age 21) she attended a soiree that Lucio was holding. Lucio was awestruck by how much she had matured over four years, and pestered her the entire evening. Imalia knew that this was just the thing to get her mother off of her back, plus Lucio was a hellraiser just like she was. So she "fell" for his charms. They had lots of fun together, and lots of steamy nights. But eventually Lucio stopped paying her so many compliments, crediting her achievements while they were together to himself alone. This seriously got under Imalia's skin. After a while, she started to feel like just a piece of furniture. So one night, she broke up with him. She didn't give an adequate enough explanation, so Lucio always thought she just got bored with him. It actually hurt him quite deeply because he had been planning to propose to her.

10. Describe your character’s Masquerade outfit. Use pics if you like!

Very Turkish-inspired. Completely white with long white feathers, keyhole midrift.

@dagnyart did it much better than me. XP

"If you're not hogging the entire doorway to get into a room, you're not doing it right."

11. What did your character do right after they defeated the Devil? Did they pass out? Did they just keep partying? Did they run off for some privacy with their LI?

Azalea was bone tired. She let Nadia get her speech out of the way, but as soon as it was over, she shambled back to her room with Julian/Lucio, and passed tf out.

12. What happened the day after the Masquerade? Did they just keep partying?

Azalea was very occupied by Julian/Lucio when she woke up the next morning. They had celebrating to do. ^_~ Afterwards, a bath and back to the party!

13. What did Nadia reward your character with after the events of that night? (She did promise payment, after all)

Azalea was made Court Magician, and given a substantial monetary reward. She was able to give the shop some much-needed renovations as well as buy some new stock.

14. How did they folks in the neighborhood react to your character’s deeds after the Masquerade? Did they keep giving you those odd looks? Did they give you a hero’s welcome? Did nothing change at all?

At long last, the looks stopped. More people began patronizing the shop, and Azalea found herself with more friends than she could have ever hoped for. She finally felt like she belonged.

15. What were some life-altering events that happened that following year? Marriage? Babies? Renovations to the shop?

She renovated the shop, Imalia came back to Vesuvia and the two of them rekindled their sisterhood, Azalea finally found her familiar in Corva, and got engaged to her LI.

Returned to Vesuvia, discovered that Azalea was no longer dead, and finally hooked up with Asra.

#apprenticeapril #the arcana #the arcana mc #the arcana oc #the arcana apprentice #fan apprentice #fan character #azalea nevra #apprentice azalea #imalia gabriev #master imalia #imalia art by @karriguelle #tumblr your formatting drives me nuts #for craps sake i am ocd

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jawnjendes · 6 years ago

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no medicine is strong enough | shawn mendes

university au, shawn x goth gf

AN: a continuation of it came back for more. a bit angsty. a bit real for me. enjoy.

masterlist | series playlist

“I told you not to go to class!” Stella snapped at me.

I had only taken one step inside my dorm, and I was composing myself. The pain in my abdomen hadn’t subsided in the last few days, even with the help of antibiotics. I had been hoping to keep this little health issue from Stella until finals were over, but Shawn took the liberty of texting her what had happened last weekend after the movie. That prompted Stella to put me on strict bedrest, but I didn’t listen. There were other things to worry about, like my job that was ending soon and, as I said before, finals.

“It’s exam season, dude,” I justified, slowly settling myself on the couch. I was winded after walking across campus, struggling to catch my breath. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t lean against the wall in the hallway on the way here.

“You can make up for those!” she told me as she reached over to feel my forehead. “You’re really warm! You have a fever! Again!”

So it wasn’t just pain. It was fatigue I had never felt before, a fever every so often, and a severe lack of appetite. On the TMI side, it was vomiting (though there was hardly anything in my stomach) and odd bowel movements. Oh, and I got chills from the walk back from my stats final.

Stella grabbed me a blanket and made me some chamomile tea. I couldn’t hold it down.

Don’t get me wrong, when this started happening, I went to the doctor. But I only went because when I met Shawn’s mother, Karen, she insisted and all but threatened to drag me out the door by my ankles. Anyway, I had a case of diverticulitis, an infection in my large intestine. The doctor prescribed some antibiotics to kill the infection and sent me home. Simple as that.

Let me just say, those antibiotics did fuck all. It was a miracle I was able to function, although yesterday Stacy sent me home about thirty minutes into my shift. I also missed the classes leading up to finals, and I almost opted out of taking my finals altogether. To say I wasn’t worried would be a lie.

I stayed in the bathroom for the remainder of the day. I was on the floor in front of the toilet, wrapped up in a fluffy grey blanket, shivering so much my jaw was chattering. My phone had been going off since I got home, and I could only assume it was Shawn. Stella probably told him I went to class and now he was lecturing me over text. I felt too tired to grab the stupid device and read tiny words on the stupid screen.

Out in the living room, Stella was on the phone. She was speaking clearly, but I couldn’t process any of her words. This stuff wasn’t new for me, apart from some of the symptoms, there wasn’t need for panic. I could sleep on the floor again, it’s fine…

“She’s literally sleeping in the bathroom!” Stella’s frantic voice said. “She still has a fever and she can’t hold down liquids! I don’t know what to do anymore!”

I tried to stand so I could reassure her that it was just another bad flare up, but the sharp pain in my stomach caused me to hunch over and cry out. “Ow! Fuck!”

Stella was at the doorway in a flash, phone still pressed to her ear. “What is it? What hurts?”

My arm went across my middle, and I focused on the pain. It was the left side of my abdomen, that’s where the doctor said this kind of pain occurs. I tried shifting my position, just as a last minute attempt to see if it was a nasty cramp. The pain remained constant, and it was really starting to annoy me. I wanted to puke and shit myself all over again.

The only noises I could hear were my own agonizing groans and Stella babbling on the phone. She was still at the doorway, watching me lean over the toilet. Finally, she hung up and went to my side.

“Shawn is coming over,” she said, “he’s gonna take you to the hospital.”

I’ve gone to the doctor way too many times for someone my age. I’ve sat in LabCorp waiting rooms at the asscrack of dawn to get my blood drawn at least five times in a month. I knew the paperwork that was required for a CT scan or MRI like the back of my hand; The receptionist at the imaging place back home in California knew me by name. I have never been admitted to the hospital, ever. I was never so sick that it required a visit to the emergency room, where Shawn had driven me today.

He had to carry me into the ER. It’s not that I couldn’t walk, he just didn’t want me to. I didn’t argue, I felt weak enough as it is.

A nurse approached us while I was still in his arms, but I couldn’t make out any words being said. The pain wasn’t a sound, but it was all I could focus on, I just wanted to be free of it already.

Shawn was instructed to place me on a gurney that came out of nowhere, and then I was surrounded by two nurses in green scrubs and a doctor in red. My eyes searched around for my boyfriend, who seemed to disappear as soon as I was let go. The medics were talking to one another, shooting hospital lingo I couldn’t understand even though I watched way too much Grey’s Anatomy.

The doctor in red touched my stomach with firm fingers, and it made me cry out and sob.

“I’m sorry dear, I know it hurts,” he said. He was an older man. I tried to connect him to one of the doctors on Grey’s for my own sanity. My mind was blank. “We’re going to help you, alright?”

“You!” one of the nurses, a tall blonde lady, pointed to Shawn, who had backed up against the wall. “What other symptoms has she had?”

I turned my head to properly look at him; He looked just as scared, but he spoke to the nurse. I decided to close my eyes and not let anyone else see my fear. I listened to the footsteps surrounding me, but it only made my heart pound and more tears pricked the corners of my eyes. I tried whispering my calming mantras but instead, some stupid song lyrics came out of my mouth.

“When everything you know has come and gone… you’re at your lowest, I am rising higher…”

My hand balled into a fist as a needle was inserted into my arm. An IV, probably. I could barely hear Shawn’s voice over the commotion in the ER. Must have been a busy day.

“Only scars remain of who I was… what I find in the ashes, you lose in the fire…” I whispered, my voice shaking.

The gurney moved in a certain direction, hitting a bump on the floor, and I cried out again. The nurses profusely apologized and then informed me that I was going to get a CT scan. But first, morphine.

By the time I was lying outside the giant scanning machine, my dark clothes swapped for a grey hospital gown, my veins were filled with the happy shit. The pain was gone, and I was feeling too good. I never had a scan like this. Usually, I was told to drink some gross contrast and then they would inject me with more of it. I always had an anxiety attack in the middle of CT scans, but this one was different.

“I know how this works, Susan,” I said to the technician, who was changing the IV bag I was hooked up to. “Arms up, pics without contrast, and pics after you hook me up with contrast. Then I go radioactive for like ten seconds and I feel like I’ve wet myself. Am I right, Susan?”

“This isn’t your first rodeo, I take it,” the tech replied. “And my name is Chad.”

After the scan, I was sent to a bed in the emergency room. The same tall, blonde nurse brought Shawn back to me and informed us both that my scan results would be back within the hour. Then she closed the curtain around the bed to give us privacy.

Shawn had a clipboard in his hand, which I figured was for me. However, he just stood at the foot of my bed and stared at me. I usually would internally cringe at his gaze, but instead I smiled and waved.

He returned the smile weakly and went to the chair next to me. Then he handed me the clipboard. “I tried to fill out what I could, but… I realized I don’t even know your birthday, much less your medical history. Here.”

“Thank you, my angel,” I told him.

“They gave you something for the pain, eh?” he guessed.

I scribbled on the board, answering all the questions and putting down my information. I wasn’t completely out of it, I was just talking more than necessary. More than I normally would.

“Oh, I’m feeling good,” I said. “Nothing hurts, and that took away my fear. I was afraid I was gonna die. Like, I’m really afraid of dying.” I chuckled.

Shawn didn’t have anything to say to that. He had his eyebrows raised in shock, but he stayed quiet.

“Just don’t tell anyone,” I warned, signing my name on the forms with a loud scribble, “I have a reputation to keep up.”

I put the clipboard aside and looked at my boyfriend. Worry lines were on his forehead, and I just wanted to kiss them away.

“You’re so pretty it’s unreal,” I said in a dreamy tone.

“Aw, thank you honey.” He smiled, but there was still concern in his eyes. “You’re pretty too.”

“I know, thank you. Can you hand me my wallet, sweet boy?”

“Keep giving me cute nicknames and I’ll do whatever you want.”

My unusual affection seemed to cheer him up. Over the next hour, I gave Shawn just about every cheesy pet name in the book. Baby boy, my love, my dear, darling, sweetheart. He savoured every moment of my drugged up ass.

“Let me hold you bubby!” I whined. “Lay on top of me!”

“I can’t do that, baby,” he told me. “Just tell me how much you love me instead.”

I clumsily patted his big tattooed hand. “I can’t do that. The universe will hear about my happiness and take it away from me.”

“The universe will never know,” he reassured, taking my hand in both of his.

“It already does. When we wrote the prettiest song in the world, I let myself be happy. Now, I’m in the ER with some real gnarly abdominal pain.”

Shawn had a thoughtful look on his face. I noticed his eyes fall a little, like he was sad. “Those two things are unrelated, baby.”

“Mm, but the timing was suspeeshy. I overcome my craziness, and I let someone love me, and boom. We’re in a large room full of the sick and injured.”

“Hey, you just have some tummy pain. They’re probably gonna give you more antibiotics and we’ll be on our way.”

I quickly shushed him. “The universe will hear you!”

And it did. The man doctor in red scrubs opened my curtain a few minutes later.

“Hi, Dr. Susan!” I greeted.

“It’s Dr. Buchanan,” he corrected with a smile. He quickly turned serious. “So, your case of diverticulitis has worsened compared to your last scan. We have to go in and remove the infected portion of your bowel.”

“Fun!” I sarcastically replied.

Shawn squeezed my hand so tightly that I gave him a look. He was staring at Dr. Susan, wide eyed. He was never this quiet.

“It’ll be a minimally invasive surgery,” the doctor continued. “It’s only a small part of your large intestine that has to be taken out. You’ll be in and out of the OR between one and four hours. But you will be admitted for at least a week. We are going to move you to a room, so I would suggest calling whoever else you need to call. Work, I’m assuming?”

“Just be real with me, Doctor Susan,” I said, leaning forward, “because I’m scared, and my sexy ass boyfriend is too. Am I gonna mcfreakin die?”

He chuckled. “You will not mcfreakin die. You’re in good hands here.”

I nodded and did the surfer dude sign with my free hand. “Awesome.” Then I looked at my eerily silent but gorgeous mans. “Babey, I need you to call Stella for me. I want my Switch.”

Shawn blinked a few times, and then he kissed my hand. “Okay, honey.”

After referring to every nurse as “Susan,” singing Evanescence in the elevator, and yelling “Whee!” as I was pushed to my room, I was finally processing the gravity of the situation. My bowel hates me so much that some of it needs to be removed. I was going to be in the hospital for a week, and I was going to recover for at least four more. I couldn’t eat for the next twenty four hours. I was going to be on a liquid diet. I was going to be open on a table.

Not to mention, Stella was practically in hysterics by the time she got to the hospital. She packed a bag of my bathroom necessities, my medications, my laptop, and my Switch. She also reminded me that we had to be moved out of our dorm by the end of next week. The semester was rapidly drawing to a close, and I was looking at homelessness.

“That’s not true,” Shawn told me before I could panic. “You’re staying at my place. We’ll move all your stuff there.”

I couldn’t argue because I had no other option.

Anyway, I had to email two of my professors and ask to take my finals on a different day. “Dear Professor, please change my final day because I’m having a bowel resection at the ripe age of 21.” Okay, I didn’t type it like that, but I wanted to.

After that, I had to call Stacy and let her know I would not be going into work today, although it was well over an hour after my shift would have started. I explained the situation to her and told her I would be out for at least two weeks. Then she reminded me that my contract with the dealership was almost up… because I was supposed to be going home to California very soon. I had to beg her to keep me hired. Why? Insurance. I hate being an adult.

Shawn eventually stepped out of the room to call his work, and then his parents. I hadn’t met his father or sister, but now I probably had to in this condition. Everything felt really, really messed up.

“What about your parents?” Stella asked me. “Have you called them?”

“I will,” I replied, scrolling through my contacts on my phone. “After I’m discharged.”

Stella placed her tiny hand on my arm, making me look at her. “Look, I don’t know what kinda beef you got going on with your folks, but they have to know about this.”

“They will know about this.”

“I mean right now. You should call them.”

I sighed. “I hear you. I know it’s important. But I met Shawn’s mother while I was recovering from a sick day. Instead of getting to know her and trying to make a good impression, she was taking my temperature and making me go to the doctor. And now I’m gonna meet the rest of his family while I’m high on morphine. I can’t control that because it’s his family, but I can control when he meets mine. And it’s not gonna be like this.”

Stella nodded as she listened. Then, she snapped, “Call your fucking parents.”

“I’m going to!” I shot back. “At a later time!”

We would have argued more, but Shawn entered the room. He didn’t say anything at first, which was odd. He sat at the foot of my bed, flipping his phone over in his hands.

“My mom is on her way,” he said at last.

“Cool,” I replied, keeping the reluctance out of my voice. Then I grabbed my Switch from the side table and occupied myself with Tetris 99.

“Your girlfriend is refusing to call her parents,” Stella told him. “Don’t you think they should know about this?”

I rolled my eyes, but I stayed quiet.

“Uh, yeah,” Shawn agreed. “Babe, why won’t you call them?”

“I’ll do it after I’m discharged,” I said, getting even more annoyed. “They’re my parents, I decide when to tell them.”

Stella scoffed and got up from her chair. She was very personally offended about what I do with my family, and I wasn’t sure why. Maybe she has parents who don’t question everything she does, so it was easy to talk about things. Must be nice.

“Y’know,” Shawn said after a while, “if this was happening to me, I would want both my parents here with me.”

He wasn’t wrong. It’s not that I wasn’t scared. He already knew I was scared.

“Look, I know it’s bad, but at least I’m here,” I told him, keeping my eyes on the game I was playing. “I’m getting treated, and I’m getting surgery. I made an adult decision-”

“I did. I’m the one who brought you here. Two hours ago, you said you were afraid of dying. I’m here for you through all of this, but you need your parents here.”

Morphine clearly wasn’t my friend anymore. It was that fake friend you thought you could open up to, but they just betray you and expose all your secrets. I wanted to take back everything I said in the middle of my high. Every secret, every term of endearment. He knew too much.

Finally, I put down my Switch and picked up my phone. I dialed my father’s cell, my heart pounding and my throat burning. None of this was supposed to happen this way.

Voicemail.

“Hi, leave me a message, I’ll call you back… in two weeks, because my wife and I are currently cruising the Caribbean! Bye!”

I scoffed. “Of course. They don’t have their phones on them.”

“Good excuse for now,” Stella said with a snark in her tone.

For once, I didn’t feel like talking back. I stared at the beige blanket covering my lap. I looked at the paper bracelets around my wrist and the IV stuck in my arm. Why did this happen to me?

Stella was so fed up she actually left. She grabbed her purse and left, but not before saying she would be back tomorrow for my surgery. That left me, Shawn, and the mess of emotions I was struggling to keep in.

“Hey,” Shawn said gently, scooting closer to me. “What is it?”

Tears were building up inside of me. The morphine was threatening to expose even more things I didn’t want to say out loud.

I cleared my throat. “Nothing. Things could be worse, right?”

“That doesn’t change what’s happening to you. Whatever you’re feeling, it’s okay. Here, scoot over.”

I moved to the side so Shawn could sit next to me. He put his arm around me and pulled me into his side. Part of me wanted to push him away, because I was very close to letting myself wallow, and affection would only make it worse. But also… I wanted someone to hold me and tell me everything was going to be okay. That was all I wanted every time I spent the night alone in the bathroom. I pushed everyone away because I didn’t want anyone to see me like that. But Shawn remained persistent. He let me stay with him when all this started, and he was willing to let me stay with him when I recover.

“When I get sick,” I told him, my voice soft and shaky, “I get a lot of anxiety. I wonder what I ate, what I didn’t eat, what I should have ate…” I paused, attempting to hold it together.

Shawn squeezed my shoulders. “I got you, it’s okay.”

My voice started to break. “I changed… I changed so much of my life so it worked around this sickness. I changed my diet, I didn’t go to college right away, I stayed home because I didn’t want to be sick anywhere else. I was so afraid of eating the wrong thing that just eating gave me anxiety. My mind and my body became my worst enemy.” Heavy tears spilled out of my eyes and I suppressed a sob.

He rubbed my back and stayed quiet. I couldn’t look at him.

“I’ve taken every tea, every vitamin, every medicine. Nothing is strong enough. I do everything I can to stay healthy and… here I a-a-am…” I hunched over and lost control of my sobbing. My mind was spiraling quickly, but I couldn’t form another coherent sentence if I tried. I just wanted to jump out of my skin, I just wanted this to be over. I wanted to be okay again.

“I know, I know it’s hard,” Shawn soothed, scooping me into his arms. His head lied on mine, and he rubbed my back, slowly rocking me from side to side. “It’s okay, honey. You’ll be okay.”

“I’m too young to be like this,” I whispered through my ugly cries. “I-I-I keep thinking I’ll die in my sleep.”

“Hey, no. You’re not dying. But you’re right, you’re so young, and it’s not fair that this is happening. But you’ll be okay. You’ll survive this. You’re a strong lady, remember?”

My chest ached. I never thought Shawn heard my calming mantras. I sniffed and wiped my nose with the back of my hand. “I-I’m a strong lady…”

I’m a strong lady.

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes smut #fourtristattoosspring #shawn x goth gf #this was therapeutic for me #so tbh i dont rly care if ppl read it or not #i needed to get some feelings out

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thewrittenpost · 5 years ago

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Entries of the Past

In our search for information regarding the acts of the Great War, spanning throughout generations, a set of journals was discovered buried on a family farm, just inside our borders. Having received them as a generous donation from the family, our scholars set to work preserving the stories within so they could endure for the future.

Changes have been made, to account for spelling and translating the older language to one more accessible to readers. There were also, regrettably, pages lost due to the journals’ lost time.

~Amelie Louring, Headmistress of the Royal Academy of Ronea

I started writing my thoughts as a way to fill the countless, empty, pointless days. Just a mindless task to keep the dark thoughts from making their way in... as they had for so many ways.

In writing them, I sorted them. Rambling at the beginning -if you’ve read this far, you know that. How my thoughts would jump from my childhood to an old man to a random memory that doesn’t connect at all. But things felt... cleaner, putting them on paper.

And in writing, I found myself a new purpose. Not a grand one; I had no intention of sharing my stories to the masses. But it was my chance, my purpose, to put myself on the page. Not the person the world would see, but the person I truly was. The truth is, the majority of what the world knows about me -about the people I served with- is just... off. Not wrong, but also not true. Watered down, a pretty picture that just barely touches reality.

I am not a learned man. I do not have the words to correct those on the street who see heroes and monsters, and I don’t have the strength to do so anymore. I can’t make speeches, or sing a tale to portray what we went through. This is all I can do, and pray that whoever reads this -if anyone does- takes something away from it.

I have already spoken of my actions during the Great War. How much pain and horror we -all sides- caused in the name of “honor”, serving masters who only cared for their own power. I have made excuses in the past, my ignorance and surety that we were doing right... bringing justice and punishment where it belonged, that we would have prosperity in this unified world we imagined.

I was wrong. And I will not -can not- go into it again. Once was more than enough, and I can’t bear to remember all those who were lost again.

But I have never spoken of the end. The day it all changed. Not to my family, my poor sister and nephews who took me in and bear with an old man’s presence. Not to singers who want new tales to sing, not to any living soul. Not even on paper have I documented that day. I have done everything I could to forget... and I have failed. But I was-

[Pages lost; cause unknown]

-hero. Who could have believed him? He was no warrior no fighter. He fled from conflict, hid from battle and somehow expected respect from those who risked everything? He thought a war spanning generations would end because he claimed it was the goddess’ will?

Even now, it is hard to believe Korith would have chosen him. But that is the way of it, isn’t it? The goddess chooses those who are needed... and the world didn’t need another destroyer.

It needed someone of faith. Something with the strength to grow and rebuild, to break down the walls we built. The world needed him.

And it was kings who tore him down. Who had him torn apart, as an example to those who would leave to the hero’s side, to choose the goddess over their expectations.

I was not involved. I wasn’t. The only thing I saw was anger and blood, but those were not new sights to any of us. Our innocence had been lost long ago. We knew, of course we did, what would be done when the king’s loyal dogs, his famed torturers entered the tent.

But to this day, I will swear I never heard him break. Not a single scream, although it must have been horrible; other confessions exist that would admit the same thing.

I thought it made him a fool then. Why not give them what they want? You won’t be given your life, but at the very least it would give you release. End the horror, and find peace in a quick death instead of the slow.

Now I envy him. My faith, renewed by that day, has never been and never will be as strong. His will, unbroken to the end, is one to strive for... one I can never forget. He carried a belief that if he held on, the world could only be better, even if he weren’t there to see it.

And he had hope, something the rest of us had forgotten. Hope that he shared willingly to the world, and that lives on in every person that has come since. In every survivor, every birth, every change... parts of his vision for the world. If only-

[Words illegible due to water damage]

-a light so blinding, you couldn’t see the person standing next to you? A piercing light that reached the depths of your soul, exposing and burning the dark stains you never wanted anyone to see? To know that all your monsters were there for all to see, and to know all the demons those around you carried?

Would you understand the weight it puts on someone, to bring them all with you through a long life? To bear the weight off all the sins that were exposed in that light?

It scares me, how easily it seems to be ignored. How easy it would have been for me to push it aside, to never mention it. To pretend that memory had failed this old man, to dismiss it all as an old man grasping for some reason behind it all.

I was never a pious man before that day. But having seen the goddess, I know how true it all is. Perhaps not faith, like her hero and so many others have, but an undeniable knowledge of what lies beyond. In her light, I knew what waited for all of us in the dark. Maybe I’ll even welcome it, because there I can hide. Shadows welcome shadows, it is said, but the light... nothing has scared me more than that.

But now I must move on, before my courage fails me. I must speak of the goddess, before I run out of time.

I’m sure there is little I can say that hasn’t already been said. But nothing you’ve heard in the songs can compare... this won’t compare, but at least it will be my truth.

The light faded eventually, just enough for us to see she was there. Like every story we had ever been told, a living storm in the shape no different than a mortal woman... and although all was still like the dead, I could feel an uncontrollable force in the air. There was no doubt: to move was to be struck down. To escape the penetrating light, you had to be swallowed by infinite darkness.

And Korith did not care for our fates either way.

Disdain is too strong of a word. Indifference doesn’t quite fit. I don’t know the word that would match what her gaze felt like... anger over her hero��s fate, but also... nothing. She cared for us soldiers in the way that we cared for rates in our food, or the bugs under our feet.

She could destroy us, and then forget we ever existed. Maybe that’s the fate we deserved, a punishment the world could never pretend away.

Instead, she demanded peace. If we mortals could not be trusted to rule ourselves without destruction, then she would enforce this “truce”... one way or another.

And she would prove it.

I can’t tell you how many more died in those next moments. But protests died before they could finish being voiced; bolts of light turned them to ash before the first words came out. All around the field, regardless of home or rank, they were just... gone, in a blinding hot flash. And in the blowing ash, beasts from legend flew, crystal reflecting their queen’s attacks as a warning to the others. Every side of the war lost, humbled under power we had believed to be legend.

You’ve likely heard of the destruction, in stories or songs. It’s easier to handle that way, prettier and easier to accept. But what lives in my mind? I wish it were the way the songs tell it; perhaps the regrets would have died if it were.

But I remember the suffocating pressure in the air. I remember her terrible beauty, and the painful grace of her destruction... bolts of lightning dancing under her skin to explode in the skies. Not one song can accurately portray how the light we take for granted as good can be as monstrous and terrifying and cruel as the dark.

I would have welcomed the shadows then... as I will shortly. Yes, I can feel my time is coming, that soon I will rejoin my comrades in Thearial’s realm.

The priests say that all souls can be redeemed, if they truly wish it. And I wish I could believe that. How could we be worthy of the peace that would come with it? How could I be worthy of it?

See, when we saw our own sins -and the sins of the others- it became a curse. A curse that made it clear how small and broken and how unfixable she saw us. And a curse to make us see how dark and shattered the world was, not just by our own actions but of everyone else’s, and those of the past. We had been judged, and we were not worthy of peace... it was granted only for the sakes of those who had already been lost.

Many people could not bear it. For too long, in our ‘era of peace’, I heard word of deaths happening one after another. Of people who took their own lives, for their own reasons; I can’t claim to know the regrets and thoughts they carried. But for too long, I wondered if I would also join them. I considered it, but at the end of the day... something always stopped my hand. I would die eventually, but I could not find it in myself to take it into my own hands.

I don’t know why I felt the need to admit that, to admit that while I would welcome Death as a friend, I would never seek him out. Why setting the truth of all my thoughts on paper is so important. It just... was.

I am tired now; I grow tired quickly these days. So I will end this now, in a similar place to where I first started my writing.

I am an old man, heavy with fear and secrets and lies and regrets. I have been a son, a solder, a monster and a coward. In my early years, I followed the world into chaos and let it consume me; in later years, I tried to be a better man, to teach those who pick up our legacies to be better than all who came before.

But at the end of it all, I am merely a man who will accept the darkness coming at last. Who will welcome it with open arms and accept the judgement coming, no matter what.

But I hold a prayer, for you reading this and the world to come. A prayer that you can stand proudly in the light when your day comes, and with Korith’s enforced peace comes to an end... I hope you have learned from our cruelty to stand together, and live in harmony.

When I embark on my final journey, I wish you -the future- all the strength I have left to give.

Best wishes. And may all the blessings of the gods be with you.

[Final Note: The following scrawl was found, a scrap of paper inserted into the back of the final journal. Written in a language thought dead, we at first believed it to be a piece from another’s work. However, handwriting samples have proved it to be the author of the journals, and as such, it was included to keep as complete of a collection as possible.

From darkness to light and returning to shadows, against the terror of this world and the next... hold fast to all the good you will bring. Stand proud with others to banish the monsters and greatness will follow.

#my writing #long post #Korith's Month #little bits of a journal someone wrote #Korith #just to be safe I'll put some trigger warnings #there's no strong mentions but I still want to be safe #tw: blood mention #tw:death #tw:suicide mention #I'll reblog this later with my tag list

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xhudgenssistersconfessions · 5 years ago

Note

Ashley should've given fire emojis to V's dance video. That is what is fire not a long ass man in a pink jumpsuit.

Austin literally took years to post or say something about Vanessa, to properly acknowledge her as his girlfriend. Where is all the privacy now?! Rubbing his cheating on V's face. He is disgusting and I have no words for Ashley tbh.

I was expecting Ashley would do something like this AGAIN ,the moment Austin posted. I just knew it .

Wow Austin really got no chill. He knows Vanessa still follows him and he posts pics with his side chick. And Ashley Tisdale where was she all these years?She is commenting and posting about Austin all of a sudden like he is her biggest friend in the world. Where is her love and support for Vanessa?!

Vanessa was barely there in LA last year or these days. Never had Ashley missed her but look at her missing Austin so much. She never likes or comments on V's pics and didn't show even a tiny bit of support for Austin for 8 years that him and V were together. Now look at her commenting on every pic he posts. She is not even subtle about her uncaring attitude towards Vanessa. Such a one sided friendship.

Nac but Ashley confuses me sometimes with her “friendship” with Vanessa. She will comment on Austin’s post but can’t comment or even like Vanessa’s. Then after the backlash she posts Vanessa on her story. I do not get it.

Sarah is the one who always tells V about missing her.

The last thing wanted in imaginative Zanessa 2.0 is Ashley Tisdale. Don't even dare to expect Vanessa of all people to reconnect her and Zac.

Nac but Ashley unbothered? Yes. Ashley a “queen” ? That’s debatable.

Lol Ashley felt bad and posted an old video of her and Vanessa in her story

That cringey expressions and the way he's showing his hands is nauseating. Its like yeah I'm smug cause I cheated. Someone please tell Vanessa that people can be unfollowed. Please get new friends Vanessa!

This is a guy who would go years without posting anything on social media and now he posted a pic with this girl? That’s not even bold, that’s just cruel. He knows V is on IG all the time and still follows him, so she’s going to see it. That’s so fucked up

There is one story about Austin Olivia finally but again twisting facts. He cheated on her in big bold letters. They said he was cosy in movies with her a month after break up. Well no he isn't that was back in November. Seriously they just need to hire us fans do a better job at digging the dirt

I literally talk with my best friend for hours then like and comment every single thing she posts and rant about life on comments for everyone to see lol. Ashley is so shady she never supports V in anything. She knows well and good no matter what she does Vanessa's dumbass wont say anything but Austin is going to pull a Zac and forget that she existed thats why all this best friend bs she's doing with him.

I never had a serious opinion on Austin but damn I never thought I’d see the day he came across like a total jerk...

I know sm doesn’t mean anything but ash is giving austin more attention on sm after he got that elvis role. And haven’t even mentioned anything about v bad boys or even commented on it. Now don’t come at me with she do it privately with v but not austin whyyyy?? Shady

Surprisingly Kim supports V these days way more than Ashley ever did. A few nice comments or posting about her project may not seem extremely important but it just shows that she cares.

I'm sorry I usually dont confess ,I'm just here for the drama lol but that 'unbothered queen' person being so proud of Ashley ew. She could've just stayed unbothered and not talk about Vanessa's break up before she herself is ready to talk about it. She has done this both the times now. I don't have any like or dislike for either of them but I can totally see why some Vanessa fans don't like Ashley at all. They have reasons.

Honestly I was having a strong feeling thats somethings goin on with them wayyy back in November when Austin and that girl attended an event together but I ignored it. They were literally posing like a couple,being too clingy. It was only few days after he was with V for Stella's birthday and V was still talking about him in interviews,liking and making heart eyes emoji in his pics. Sorry but no one can convince me he didnt cheat especially not after V liking those cheating memes.

Ashley is petty enough to drag Gabriella every now and then but she has so many issues whenever it comes to show some minimal support towards Vanessa and lets not get started how she's so open when it comes to supporting her exes.

I really thought people were overreacting when it came to Ashley. Since they always twisted her words and made her look bad but now I’m really confused. She completely ignored Austin when he was with V & at the moment him and V broke up she suddenly mentions him or cares about him. If Ashley knows that he cheated why would she comment on the picture of him and his side chick. This is just weird or she wants to troll.

If it’s true that Austin cheated it’s really fucked up that he post a picture with him and his side chick.

Damn so many people commenting under Ashley’s comment under Austin’s picture lol. Some saying she does it for attention, other that she’s a bad friend, than that she wants something from him (she’s literally married the fuck) or that she did the same thing with Zac after he and Vanessa broke up.

What’s gonna buck me the most is that when Austin and Olivia are getting together and he’s gonna be public with her and post pictures with her on his Instagram while he rarely done that with Vanessa, that would annoy me.

He probably wanted to fuck Olivia that’s why he went the shortest way and broke up with V over the phone instead of talking to her in person like a real man.

#answered

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acelucky · 6 years ago

Text

Patchwork

Summary - Hitomi has a wish for her final night in Gaea. A reunion between herself and all those she has grown to love round a campfire to share stories and toast to the future.

This was written for the 2019 Escaflowne 'Pic n Fic' the theme is memories. Thank you to @radical-rad1986 for telling me about this years pic n fic! Whilst I haven't been active in the Escaflowne community for some time (life and other fandoms etc.) this was so nice to write for and was a joy to be writing about these characters I love once again. In fact I've been inspired to write a little more Escaflowne content from doing this. This has also been posted on Ao3 but wanted to post it here too as I posted so little of my writing on main.

This is written for @numbersoftoday

A campfire was where it begun and where it ended. Campfires were, Hitomi reflected, one of the best places to share stories. Far away enough from buildings and the distractions of a busy world full of busy people and noise, a campfire was a good place to escape if started in the right location. Tonight the location had been picked by Van, it was Hitomi’s final night in Gaea and he had gathered together those who had come to know her and become in a fashion, an extended family, to say their goodbyes.

Van, Hitomi and Merle were the first to arrive in the clearing. On the ground there was a round circle of ash, a place where previous campfires had been built and memories shared. Around this were logs strategically placed for seating.

Van placed a hand on Hitomi’s shoulder, “Sit, relax, I’ll build the fire.”

Hitomi who was always so eager to help and wanted to do everything she could to not be a burden, was grateful for once to sit and watch the others at work. She decided to sit on the soft, green grass whilst the fire was being built, her fingers lazily trailing across the blades and twirling a few round her index finger. She stared up at the night sky, admiring the constellations. Though different from home, no matter where you were, the stars always looked beautiful and held the secrets of the world they watched over.

Hitomi had been thinking of the memories that each of them had woven both individually and collectively, whilst certain tales excluded certain people, by hearing the words alone, they were able to live on. Her grandmother had been so fond of story telling and ensuring that legends didn’t die. So, in the aftermath of the war and before she returned home, she had a final wish, that they would reunite for one final evening, around a campfire and share memories, honest and true.

She watched as the fire came to life, providing much needed light in the darkness so that she could see the faces of those she loved. She watched as the flames licked higher, as the wood started to glow and the element took hold, sturdy and ready to warm their small gathering. She remembered the last campfire she’d had with her grandmother, sat under a patchwork quilt that her great grandmother had made whilst pregnant. They had cuddled up under it, embracing a part of her history, a woman she would never know and yet in that moment, felt so close to her that there was an undeniable warmth. A pull on her heartstrings from beyond the grave.

Her grandmother had taught her of the importance of ancestry, no matter how far back. She had also taught her the importance of those who come into your life, no matter how small or for how long. How all these individuals were a sum of the person you are and you become. When she was younger she struggled to understand what her grandmother had meant. Her close friends and family, they were the people who made her who she was. But now Hitomi realised what her grandmother had meant, no amount of distance between two people could ever break a bond so strong once it had been established.

Hitomi leaned back, pressed her palms flat against the ground and inhaled sharply, the smell of the earth and pine trees heavy in her nostrils. It made her feel light, free and as if for a moment that she was sat on a field with Amano and Yukari after school, enjoying the warmth of sun on her face.

She watched through the woods as shadows moved, growing closer, not enemies but the friends she had made and woven into their tales. Allen and Celena arrived first, shortly followed by Millerna, Dryden, Gaddes and the rest of the Crusade Crew.

She pulled herself up from the floor and dusted her school uniform down before going to greet them, warm embraces all round. As Allen greeted her he kissed her cheek, for a moment she felt herself go a little red and knew Van’s eyes would be on them. She recalled their kiss in the rain, the warmth of his lips, the fact that the rain didn’t bother her, rather soothed her in a moment of such unimaginable tenderness. And for the first time when thinking back on that kiss, she didn’t feel guilt.

Once they had all all gathered, they took a place round the campfire to sit and talk. Hitomi now sat on a wooden log on a blanket that Van had laid out for them, Merle sat curled at his feet.

The campfire was so large that from the other side of the trees you could make out the unmistakable glow of orange in the sky. Hitomi watched the flames rise and closed her eyes, listening to the crackling of wood, thinking of home now and the memories she had from there. The memories that she would take home with her from Gaea.

The mood around the campfire wasn’t sombre as such, but it was quiet and reflective. Reeden poured drinks for all, they toasted and then waited for another to take the lead.

To the surprise of the others, it was Celena who spoke, “I remember…running through a meadow, the feel of the soft grass on the soles of my feet. All the colour splashed in front of me from the wildflowers, the smell of salt on the air from the sea. There was a breeze blowing, catching my hair… I remember you brother,” she looked across at Allen who nodded and smiled.

Merle’s eyes were wide with curiosity as she watched Celena recount the final memories of her youth before she was stolen away.

“The ships were beautiful that day,” added Allen as he closed his eyes to picture the scene, “There were so many of them in the harbour, you wanted to stand on the hill and count them but got distracted.”

“By a snail,” Celena finished and gave a laugh.

Allen chuckled, “Yes by a snail, you always loved small creatures.”

Celena smiled but said no more, her expression changed a little, melancholy in her reflection of her younger days and time lost.

“My younger sister loved all manner of insects and bugs,” Gaddes said, joining in to fill the silence.

Celena immediately looked up from the ground, happy that someone other than Allen wanted to engage, “Which were her favourites?” She asked.

“Butterflies… but she had a soft spot for stick insects, always wanting to keep them as pets. She named one of them Violet.”

“My friend, Amano, he kept stick insects as pets when we were younger,” Hitomi smiled fondly at the memory.

A few of the others round the campfire laughed, “Eww who’d want to keep a stick insect? Isn’t that right Lord Van?” Merle wrinkled up her nose.

Van shrugged, “I guess whatever makes people happy.”

Merle quickly changed her reaction to the thought of stick insects and nodded in agreement.

“What made me happy as a child,” Van begun, “was playing at sword fighting and duals with my brother. He was everything to me, I idolised him and always felt I’d never be able to match up to him, always standing in his shadow.”

“I think you did a grand job,” Hitomi said, her hand on Van’s knee.

Van sipped his wine, “Months ago I’d have hated you for saying that. But now, he did something far braver than I could ever imagine.”

“Redemption is a beautiful thing,” Dryden quipped.

“What was your favourite memory of him?” Hitomi asked

“My birthday one year, he got me a wooden sword, but it was carved so intricately I knew he must have spent an age working on it. I loved it because he made it. Because he had poured a part of himself into it, so in a way, even if we were apart we would always be together. That made me feel brave,” Van gave a low chuckle, “I feel now that sounds so childish.”

Hitomi and a few of the others shook their heads, Hitomi especially thought of her great-grandmother’s patchwork quilt and she knew exactly what Van meant.

He continued, “We went out to practise, stood on a meadow at the side of the woods. The sun shone brightly above us; eagles circled in the air high above. If I close my eyes, I can still remember the scent of the daises and buttercups. I recall the way my brother smiled at me, his words of encouragement when I fell. If I think hard enough about it, it’s almost like I’m back there.”

“That’s a lovely memory to have,” Hitomi said squeezing his hand.

“I remember Ellen, my oldest sister, she always wanted me to teach her how to fight,” Gaddes recalled.

“And did you?” Millerna asked.

There was a moment of silence as Gaddes sipped his wine, “Of course.”

Hitomi smiled and listened intently as Gaddes cast out his memories of Ellen and his sparring days. He stared into the flames as he spoke, his hands gripped tightly round the goblet, alluding to the fact that although this part of the story had been happy, there was a sorrow there.

“She was so feisty, so reckless in so many ways but her heart was so pure. She managed to protect my family from bandits one afternoon while I was out in town, I’d never been more proud of someone. Her hair smelt of honeysuckle and she had the brightest smile, the kind that drains all darkness from the room. She was able to mimic me and my movements so perfectly. I miss her terribly,” Gaddes’ eyes filled with tears as he wiped under one of them.

The campfire was silent for a moment as the others gave Gaddes the room he needed to reflect and a moment of silence for his sister.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised.

“Don’t be, we all have memories that make us both happy and sad,” Millerna put a comforting hand on Gaddes’ shoulder, “That’s what makes us human, that’s what connects us all.” She smiled sadly as Gaddes reached up and placed a hand over hers and mimed, ‘thank you.’

Millerna took a deep breath, her eyes caught Allen’s and before she spoke he knew what she was going to say, “Marlene…I think of her often. In fact, I think Eries and I would have been closer had Marlene still been alive, had things of worked out differently. We’re trying and slowly we’re building a sisterly relationship again, but Marlene will always cause a space between us that can never be filled.” Millerna smiled sadly, now avoiding Allen’s gaze.

“I have a few memories of us three sisters together and I am grateful every day that they are happy memories. Playing by a stream, mimicking the song of the birds in the oak trees. Planting seeds, drinking fruit juice as we sat on rocks, our feet cooled by the running water. Happy memories, as I said.”

Reeden went round the group with more wine, ensuring that their goblets were well filled for the night ahead.

The other’s continued to tell tales of their youth, they recounted stories from years past rather than reflecting on the recent, violent and bloody war. Those stories, both the good and the bad could wait for another day when the memories had begun to fade.

The final story before they said goodnight came from Hitomi, “My grandmother…the one who came here, she had a patchwork quilt that belonged to her mother… She had made it, whilst pregnant. It took me years to realise the significance of it, even though my grandmother taught me all about it and how each section represented a different part of her mother’s life, of her adventures, those she met, the terrific highs and heartbreaking lows… That was why it was so important, it reflected all life, because to live is to feel it all and that includes the bad. That is what we have done, that is what we have lived through, survived, together… The quilt represented all the lives that had touched her and now those threads can never be broken. “

All eyes round the campfire were round her now, slightly teary and waiting for her final words. “I’ll miss you all terribly, but I’ll remember you all, always,” Hitomi said fondly, though her eyes pricked with tears, misty with memories and love for those she met.

Van held her hand tightly and placed a kiss on her cheek as she finished speaking, Merle even shifted her weight so she could hug Hitomi’s legs.

Gaddes then stood and held his goblet up, staring into the flames and across to Hitomi he spoke, “A toast, to our dear friend Hitomi.”

Allen stood, the others following suit, all lifting their goblets in agreement, “To Hitomi!”

Hitomi then stood, “To friendship,” she added, “to love and to the memories we have made and those that are yet to be made.”

“Here here!” Dryden cried and then downed the rest of his wine, the others lifting their goblets once more and doing the same.

They said their farewells, though they had all agreed to say a final goodbye to Hitomi the following day in the same place but during the day when she would leave Gaea and return home. Before she left, Millerna pulled her close, she had been an unlikely friend and alley but now Hitomi found herself sorrowful for the friend she would have to say goodbye to.

Hitomi watched the fire die so there was just the faintest glow of orange, Van reached down with his hand to help pull her to her feet and in doing so embraced her.

“We still have the night,” Van said as he brushed the hair from Hitomi’s face.

She gulped, trying to swallow the tears that couldn’t so easily be fought off, “Yes, I should be grateful to sleep by your side and watch the moon and the earth for the last time from the window.”

“To sleep in it’s light by your side will be one of the best memories I’ve ever had,” Van said before pressing his lips against hers.

#Escaflowne #The Vision of Escaflowne #Hitomi Kanzaki #Van Fanel #allen schezar #Millerna aston #Gaddes #fanfic #esca 2019 #pic n fic #my writing

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dat-town · 6 years ago

Text

renaître de ses cendres

Characters: Jinhwan & You

Genre: angst

Setting: immortal au

Summary: Jinhwan has lived long but you make him want to live more.

Warning: character death

Words: 2.2k

for @lily-blue have the happiest bday my dear ♥

[original pic credit goes to bylove_951221]

Jinhwan has loved fiercely.

He has loved until death.

He has loved without meaning to, without doubts, without thinking.

Jinhwan has lived many loves. All of which he was fated to lose.

But only when he saw the light fade in your ever bright eyes did he think that the price of immortality was too high.

Jinhwan didn't like to talk about the time he was born into. He didn't like to talk about any of his previous lives. He had been around for a longer time than the Colosseum or the Great Wall of China and he had learned that he would be stuck in the past if he kept looking back. So he didn't. He always adapted to the current time he lived in and tried to make the most out of it, enjoying the small wonders of life. But sometimes he got desperate and lonely too and then he had enough of it but he couldn't die, literally couldn't. Yes, he tried, multiple times. He always came back.

It was one of those times. The ones in despair when he wanted nothing, just leave this Earth and this empty shell of him behind. He was all alone, not a soul would have cared if he just disappeared. He wished he could evaporate in the wind or dissolve in water, if he could just turn bodiless. After thousands of years he got bored of the face that looked back at him in the mirror. He started hating the very same sad eyes of his reflection staring vacantly ahead.

“Are you thinking of jumping?”

A young, curious voice startled him and his steps died on his tracks, feet stilling on the metal barrier of the bridge he was walking on. He spared one glance at the deep, dark waters of the rushing Han River under him, illuminated by the pearl white moonlight. Then he turned around gracefully, his balance not even shaking, airily like a tightrope dancer would have. Then his gaze settled on you, the pale girl standing by the fence in nothing more than a pretty flower-patterned dress, slippers thrown on the ground. You rested your elbows on the cold railing staring ahead with an inextricable look on your face. He couldn't really tell what you were thinking and what made you ask that ground-breaking question so calmly.

“Are you?” Jinhwan shot back the very same question without answering as he elegantly hopped down from the fence, casually leaning back to it after his feet hit the ground, merely a meter away from you.

You didn't seem bothered, not by the new proximity, nor the lack of answer but you hummed thoughtfully before answering.

“No but the fact that I could makes it so much easier to bear life. Because you know it gives the knowledge that I have chosen it. It almost makes me feel powerful,” you chuckled after the long and serious monologue.

You were talking so casually as if the mere thought of your mortality, the inevitability of your own death didn't scare you at all while most people would have been scared shitless. You were standing there in the middle of one of the highest bridges of your town staring down at the rampant water stirring up because of a coming storm. Jinhwan wasn't new to sudden summer downpours, he could feel it come in the air. You seem to pay no mind to it though. Eyes closed you enjoyed the weather and everything in the moment. Taking big breaths and letting out satisfied exhales like you had all the time in the world.

Jinhwan watched you in awe; it's been a while he had met such an unbothered soul.

Neither of you said anything, not until the first raindrops stirred up the silence coming fast like tears and their splash on the ground created a piano melody like nothing else. You smiled not caring about your hair and dress getting wet, not even when the water droplets slid across your body leaving goosebumps in their wake behind them. You inhaled from the humid air one last time before pushing yourself away from the fence and turning to leave.

But Jinhwan who had been staring and marvelling at you in wonder couldn't let you go just like that.

“Won't you catch cold?” he asked glancing down at your bare feet on the harsh, cold concrete. You looked down as if you were surprised by his question. Then realizing what he might have meant, you chuckled and shushed his question away with a flick of your wrist, tiny raindrops following the movement.

“It doesn't matter either way,” you shrugged with a secret smile pulling on the corners of your pretty mouth. Then grabbing your pair of slippers and with them dangling in your hand you danced away with cute little spins, humming a sad song in a way much happier tone than you were supposed to be.

You laughter was a melody in the wind that carried the lovely sound and the way wind played with your short locks and the moonlight reflected on your skin Jinhwan swore nature adored you just as his heart whispered him to.

Already when he first met you he was damn convinced you were like poetry, a moving art in pretty form, riddles behind rhymes and secrets between the lines. He couldn't wait to unravel the mystery that was you.

You met him on that bridge again.

And again and again.

You found yourself waiting for those meetings even if they made your heart soar. It felt like playing with the thought of having something that couldn't really be yours. But it didn't dishearten you, not when he made it so easy to fall.

You were in love, you knew it from the moment he took you to that observatory just to stare at the stars and talk about the meaning of life, being a sparkle of dust in the galaxy. But you knew that you were more in love with the idea of him, of someone who cares than actually with him. Because he didn't like to talk about things like his family, job or past. You had no idea who Kim Jinhwan was but you knew a man with gentle heart and the wisdom of generations. He was the most interesting phenomena you ever encountered and even when he was close he felt so far as the stars you both loved so much.

It had been weeks, months of casual meetings and you had become paler, lost weight and hair. He hadn't said anything apart from asking you to take better care of yourself but he must have known you couldn’t really help it.

“I am dying,” you blurted out after you finished slurping from your fruit smoothie and it might have been too casual to take it seriously because Jinhwan let out one of his typical, philosophical questions:

“Aren't we all?” he looked up at you with unsaid words hiding in his dark orbs: at least humans, the ones without ridiculous curses, he thought. You liked seeing secrets in his eyes even if you could never unravel them. At least you felt a little less bad for keeping yours. Like how your heart went crazy near him.

“No, I mean I know for a fact that I will die within a few months. I even have this cool hospital card because you know I'm a permanent guest there,” you chattered showing off the card to your room. You had years accepting the idea of dying, you were really ready for it. Or you thought you were until he came along.

Now that made Jinhwan dumbfounded. “What?”

You quieted down, smile fading at his sad voice and the blank look on his face.

“I'm sick, Jinhwan and no, it can't be cured. They have already tried everything.”

Suddenly it all made sense: why you were so accepting of the inevitable end. You’ve had your time to deal with it and had decided not to waste any moment, to enjoy the smallest miracles of being alive and to bring as much joy to the people around you as it was possible. But how was it fair? That life cursed him with eternal life but gave you – you of all people! - only so little? Jinhwan hated it.

“Hey,” you nudged his hand and he blinked, surprised, shaking his head to get rid of such thoughts. Your eyes were like unwritten fairytales, magical and infinite, pulling him in. You smiled almost too gently for someone who was meant to die so young, so beautiful. “I'm still the girl who danced around barefoot in the rain. Don't look at me differently. I just thought you deserved to know that you are hanging out with a dying girl before it gets worse.”

It did get worse pretty soon just as you predicted and warned him.

First you weren’t able to walk that much without sitting down for a while. Then you had hard time breathing sometimes. And once you got a seizure in the middle of laughing on something ridiculous like vines. After that they kept you in the hospital, no more free days out in the open, you were bound to machines because your organs started giving up one by one. You were saddened seeing your father's devastated face or your mother's tears, only Jinhwan treated you like nothing changed. He didn't even blink at the sight of infusion and the nasal cannula when he visited you in the hospital. He asked you if you dreamed anything nice lately and talked about the old neighbour lady's story that he heard that night. You were too tired of talking after a while, so you asked Jinhwan to speak in lieu of the two of you.

“What does it mean?” you softly asked tracing the tattoo on his forearm with your index finger a bit weakly. But he gently took your hand in his before it could fall from his arm.

“Reborn from the ashes,” he translated the French text without sparing a glance at it.

You smiled faintly hearing the words and averted your gaze from him to the darkened scenery on the other side of the window.

“That sounds nice. Starting over. I wish I could be a phoenix to do that,” you whispered, voice barely there, a little lifeless and his heart churned, breaking from the pressure, from the weight of all the confessions he didn't… couldn't tell you. Not now. It was all too late from you to hear them anyway.

“Do you want to hear a story?” he asked ever so lovingly and as it became hard to speak, you just squeezed his hand back as a sign of saying yes. So he took a deep breath and started talking.

“Once upon a time there was a young and foolish prince so arrogant that he wanted to become a god, so he searched for the key to immortality. It seemed to be a fruitless journey after years and years-long of pursuit but he still had nothing. He had bathed in virgins’ blood, read rituals and made a deal with all kind of devils, all of them turned out to be imposters… except for one. She was nothing but an old lady, he thought and he laughed when she offered him the eternal youth. She asked for nothing but a lock of the prince's hair. He was curious though, he had nothing to lose, so he cut a piece of his hair and gave it to her. The woman burnt it right in front of him while murmuring something satanic and then threw a knife at him. She was executed immediately for treason with the last words: you will live in regret burning on her tongue and only later, when his anger died down did the prince realize that the wound where the knife scratch him disappeared as if there was no wound at all.”

“What happened to him?” you breathed barely audible but listening very closely with your eyes closed.

“He has lived long and at first he found joy in his victorious life,” Jinhwan continued with the story, his steady voice slowly becoming hollow. “But soon he realized being unable to die was indeed a curse. Centuries has come and gone and he had become more and more distant. Sure he wasn't dead but he didn't feel alive either. Until one day he met a girl, a girl who showed him everything in life that was worthy of appreciation, that there's more to it than just living. She was a girl who was in love with life itself and the prince who was nowhere near a prince anymore wished he could give her more of that.”

The last of it was barely a whisper because the heart rate machine by the bed went still. Even the Moon dressed in silver mourned and the stars all around pitied him. His tears helped nobody.

Jinhwan has loved gently.

He has loved until death and even after.

He has loved truly, madly, deeply and he had lived to tell the tale because you would have wanted him to do that. To live.

To reborn from the ashes.

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