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foilfreak · 3 years

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BEAUTY AND HER BEAST: Chapter 9 (temporary 1-2 week hiatus being taken from his fic, click ao3 link and read end notes to find out why. I WILL BE COMING BACK!!!)

WARNING PLZ READ BEFORE CONTINUING: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.

(AO3 link below)

Despite the shrill echo of Nadine’s terrified voice being something Salvatore has prepared himself for since before the young woman even arrived in the reservoir, the real thing was still somehow 100 times worse than he could have ever imagined it being.

Chaos followed as Salvatore frantically left his hiding spot, crawling across the floor as quickly as his mangled body would allow, as a loud crashing sound vibrates the whole room once Nadine’s body finally lands, quite uncomfortably I might add, on the hardwood of the floor. The sudden frantic and terrified swinging of her arms following Salvatore’s verbal slip knocked the poor woman off balance, sending her right back down to the floor for a second time.

Staring at the writhing figure of Nadine from the other corner across the room, Salvatore sniffles pitifully to himself as tears cascade down his face. Oh how appropriately cruel, that the universe wouldn’t even give Salvatore the decency of a proper meeting with Nadine, much less a chance at friendship and even less at anything past that. It makes perfect sense that this would be the way Nadine found out how disgusting and pathetic he is. Sitting alone in a dark and dingy room, watching old romance films because he has no one of his own to hold and love like the men in the movies do, and eating entire blocks of cheese all on his own, because nothing pairs with unending loneliness like the tang of sharp cheddar and the horrible stomach ache that follows it.

Putting his hands up to cover his face, a final effort to hide himself away from the beautiful woman’s gaze, Salvatore merely sat in his new corner, his shoulders shaking with sobs of agony and his body trembling in fear as Nadine’s gaze finally locked on to him, and him alone this time, in the dark silence of the room.

“H-Hey… are you alright? I’m sorry I yelled like that, I didn’t mean to startle you like that, but you suddenly spoke up out of nowhere and it scared me half to death” The soft voice from across the room asks, causing Salvatore to pause in his moment of self-loathing. Did… did she just ask him if he was alright? Wasn’t he the one who was supposed to ask her that?

“W-what…?” Salvatore chokes out, peering out slightly from behind the cover of his hood in confusion. The sight he’s met with is one that steals his breath away, much like the first time he laid eyes upon the stunning beauty this tiny woman held. However, unlike their “first” meeting, that took place back in Mother Miranda’s lab, this time there was no metal pod separating the two, Salvatore realized, as the sight of Nadine, slouched tiredly on the ground barely a few feet away from where he cowered in the corner, registered in the mutant man’s mind.

Next, of course, came her actual appearance. Black strands tousled messily across her forehead framed her round face and golden eyes perfectly. Her long white dress bunched up around her upper thighs, revealing the curves of her large, but muscular legs, that had previously been obscured by the material of her dress. Slouched shoulders and heavy breathing caused the material of Nadine’s nightgown to slowly inched its way down the front of her chest, not exposing her necessarily, but definitely revealing more and more of her lusciously plump breasts with every harsh up and down of her shoulders.

Tears continued to fall from Salvatore’s eyes even as saliva began to fill his mouth and his fear and self-loathing slowly gave way to the growing fire beginning to kindle in the pit of his stomach. The sound of his muffled sobs of anguish and arousal escaping from behind his hands causes Nadine’s face to immediately fall, agony replacing the previously wild look her face held.

“N… N-no. No no, please don’t cry. It’s alright. I-I-I’m not going to hurt you… I mean it… see… I don’t have any weapons on me” Nadine says hurriedly, standing up and doing a spin to show that nothing that could pose potential harm to Salvatore was hiding between the folds or frills of the thin garment. “See! Nothing to hide.”

Salvatore merely closed his tear soaked eyes and shook his head, the motion moving his whole body along with it. “Nooooooooooo… y-you d-don’t… under-s-stand…”

“What do you mean? What don’t I understand?” Nadine asked, kneeling back down to the ground, moving slightly closer to Salvatore than she was before, a terrifyingly genuine look of concern and worry etched into her beautiful features.

The mutant man fought back a wave of nausea and choked on a sob at the angelic sight. Hoards of hormones equating to despair and arousal battle within the hellish confines of Salvatore’s brain. The mutant man was filled with so many mixed emotions that he genuinely couldn’t tell if he wanted to tear himself apart until not a scrap of evidence of his existence remained, or if he wanted to just spring forward and consume the delectably dangerous morsel that sat so prettily before him, like an octopus latching itself upon the almighty great white shark as it just passes above their home, pulling the now helpless and unsuspecting predator down into the depths of a true monster’s domain.

“Hey, come on now. It sounds like you’re having a hard time breathing. Why don’t you come out of the corner where the air’s a little fresher, ya?” The young woman coaxes gently, moving ever so slightly closer to Salvatore as she speaks. The movement does not go unnoticed by the hooded man, nor does the way it pushes her dress even further up her already decently exposed thighs, but with little ability to stop Nadine’s incremental advances, Salvatore merely buries his face into his hands, blocking as much of his disgustingly bloated maw as he possibly could, even as the young woman attempted to change her angle to get a better look at him.

“P-p-please… jus-just stop!” Salvatore commands, suddenly filled with a wave of confidence that abandons him just as quickly as it arrived. “j-j-j… j-just… g-go… please…”

A light mist has become visible in the light reflecting off of Nadine’s eyes, the young woman looking truly saddened by the strange man’s utter rejection of her. Whether it was out of pity for Salvatore’s sake, or fear of her own impending isolation should the likes of Salvatore even reject her company, the hooded man could neither tell, nor did he really want to know.

“Well that’s not a very nice thing to say to someone trying to be your friend now is it? I might not look as normal as I used to but I’m not here to cause any trouble” Nadine scolds lightly, her voice strong, though even Salvatore can detect a slight wobble. “But… if you can give me a valid reason why I should leave, then… then I’ll do it, no questions asked.”

A valid reason? What other reason did she need than to get away from him?

Salvatore takes a moment to wipe away some of the tears that coated his face, slightly peeking out to look at the younger woman once again before speaking. “Y-you… you can’t… s-stay here… th-this place… it i-isn’t… isn’t g-good enough f-for you… it’s… i-its not w-worthy… I-i… I’m… n-not worthy… of you…”

Nadine shifts slightly closer once again, a pained look cut into her face like a raging storm cuts through large waves out in the open ocean. Her whole body was a sea of turbulent waters as she gingerly reached her hand forward, slowly but surely inching her way closer to Salvatore, until her wine dark fingers just barely brushed against the thick, rugged fabric of his overcoat.

Silence befell the two mutants, permeating the room with tension so thick and heavy Salvatore thought he might suffocate.

The cornered man could not bring himself to look up as Nadine’s delicate fingers gently latched on to the article of clothing covering his wretched and disgusting form. Salvatore shuddered as he prepared himself for what was inevitably to come once Nadine removed his overcoat: the biting cold of the surrounding area pinching and nipping at his thick, but sensitive flesh; another shrill shriek of fear and terror that would pierce him to his very core; the sound of Nadine, beautiful, gorgeous, perfect, immaculate Nadine, fleeing not just the underground tunnels that had lead her to discover this place, but also the reservoir, never to be seen again.

Salvatore wouldn’t blame her for this choice, of course. After all, it’s what he would do if he found himself trapped with a wretched creature as grotesque and pitiful as he himself was. Death wasn’t an option Salvatore had the luxury of entertaining, but he never blamed others if they chose it over him.

He would too, if he could.

Despite his earlier expectations, the hand on his coat never moves to take the garment off the trembling man, instead, moving to gently run along the side of Salvatore’s head, down his shoulders, before resting itself softly, but firmly, along the area of growths that covered the small of his back. After taking a moment to allow the violent trembling of Salvatore’s body, in response to the young woman’s gentle caresses, to calm down to something more manageable, Nadine slowly lifts her left hand and rests it on the opposite side of the hunched-over man’s head, yet she makes no move to try and take his cloak off or remove his face from his hands.

Stillness and silence return for a brief moment, almost as though Nadine were waiting for Salvatore to raise objection to her advances and stop her, as if he had the power or control to do anything but cower in the corner and cover his growing excitement in shame. With no explicit objections voiced, the hands resting gently around Salvatore began to slowly pull him toward Nadine’s body.

“Come here” Nadine’s soft, heavenly voice commands lightly, as Salvatore’s body does as instructed with no resistance whatsoever. A broken sob of humiliating arousal escapes the hooded man when he gently falls forward into Nadine’s lap, her arms quickly moving to wrap around and hold the hooded man against her soft, warm, and strong body.

“Shhhh, it’s alright. There’s no need to be so worked up. You have nothing to be afraid of, here” Nadine coos soothingly, as her hand gently caresses his thin, leather covered arm.

Salvatore cries pitifully as the painfully comforting words and actions make him want to vomit from overjoy. “Y-you… you d-dont unders-s-stand…” the hunched man weeps, his voice slightly muffled by his knees as he continues trying to hide his face by shoving it as far between his legs as he’s physically capable.

“What don’t I understand? Could you explain it to me?” Nadine asks, patiently holding the sobbing mess of a man firmly against herself as he collects himself enough to answer.

“I-it isn’t… you… th-that I f-fear…” Salvatore begins, trailing off as another wave of cold dread and fiery desire collide violently somewhere deep inside the hooded man’s chest.

“What is it that you’re afraid of then? If not... me?” The young woman’s angelic voice questioned, the slightly fearful and worried tone of her voice toward the end of her question, as if what Salvatore thought of her was even worth her precious time to worry about, made the mutant man’s stomach wretch sickeningly.

“I-I… I f-fear… oh god-” Salvatore began, before promptly shutting up and shoving Nadine as far away from him as he could from that angle, throwing himself to the floor, on his hands and knees, in the opposite direction just as a wave of acidic bile forces its way from the confines of the man’s mouth and out onto the floor in front of him. His own hideous reflection stares back at him in the growing puddle of stomach acid once he’s done.

A spiteful reminder from the universe of what he was and why he lived the way that he did.

Drunkenly reaching his hand forward to smear the vomit puddle around so he at least didn’t have to look at himself AND sit in his own filth while he gathered the energy to get up and wash off in the lake, Salvatore missed the way Nadine’s eyes narrowed in confusion at the man’s clumsy movements, before suddenly widening as she realized what the hooded man was doing.

“No, wait! Don’t touch that, it’ll only make you feel worse if you fiddle around with that nasty stuff” Nadine says hurriedly, as she rushes forward to take Salvatore’s moving hand in her own and presses it firmly against her bosom to prevent the man from playing around in his own throw up. She gasps in shock and her grip tightens around Salvatore’s hand, as though she’d suddenly remembered something important she’d forgotten about and Salvatore’s hand had brought it back to her conscious mind, before shaking her head and pulling herself from her thoughts.

“Oh, you poor thing! Here, let me wipe your face for you, and try to take deeper, slower breaths while you’re at it. You’ve managed to work yourself into such a panic that it's no wonder you’re throwing up all over yourself.”

The room is spinning far too fast and in far too many different directions for Salvatore to really be sure what’s going on, however the feeling of Nadine’s skin pressed against his own as she tenderly raised the edge of her pristine white dress to wipe away the lines of green acidic bile that had been left on Salvatore’s lip, was a sensation of euphoria unlike anything the hooded man has ever felt before in his entire life.

Not even Mother Miranda’s own embrace felt quite as… ‘brutal’ wasn’t the appropriate word to use based on its true definition, but in that instance it's the only word that Salvatore can think of to describe how intense everything around him, Nadine especially, feels at the present moment. Her touch, her scent, her warmth, her weight, her firm grip around him, the constant rhythmic thrum of her heart beat against his cold, bony hand, all of it was so intensely brutal that it was a wonder how the combined effect didn’t beat him into the floor. It was too much for Salvatore to handle all at once, and yet he knew that if the kind angel sitting next to him retracted so much as a single one of those sensations, he’d lose himself to insanity like careless swimmers lose themselves to sudden rapid currents.

Salvatore threw up 3 more times before his stomach finally allowed him the relief the hooded man had desperately been craving. The floor was an absolute mess by this point, but thanks to Nadine, who’d managed to keep his upper body upright the whole time, Salvatore hadn’t made nearly as much of a mess of himself as he normally did, though that still didn’t fix the primary problem that had resulted in all that vomiting.

“There we go. That must feel a lot better, huh?” Nadine asks calmly, pulling Salvatore in to rest against her chest once again, his face still turned downward and away in avoidance.

Although Salvatore does not grace her question with a response, the hooded man has long since given up trying to get away from the young woman, at this point just allowing her to move him however she pleased, taking in as much of her kindness and affection as he possibly could, before she inevitably hightails it out of here, of course. It was only a matter of time, at this rate.

“You know… you’re a lot bigger than I expected you to be” comes a sudden declaration from Nadine, breaking the silence that had permeated throughout the room and immediately pulling Salvatore from his dejected whimpering.

“I mean… I suppose I should have expected that, especially since most middle schoolers are taller than me, nowadays” the young woman continues with a lighthearted chuckle, “but you looked so small and stump-like from all the way up in that stupid pod that I couldn’t help but be a little surprised when I felt you had arms and legs. You could have very well had a snake for a body for all I knew and I still don’t think I’d have been as surprised, though this huge coat you're wearing certainly doesn’t make getting a good look at you very easy.”

“Th… that’s th-the point…” Salvatore mumbles, though seemingly more to himself than anyone else.

“Really? And why is that?” Nadine asks curiously, clearly having heard the older man’s muttering.

“I-if… if you k-knew me… you’d know… th-the answer to that q-question” Salvatore replies sadly, fresh tears beginning to prickle along his lower lid, threatening to spill over as the depressing reality of his meaningless existence makes itself more than obvious.

He was a filthy monster who deserved to spend the rest of his life alone and miserable, because why would something as unholy as him ever be worthy of anything else?

“Oh, now I don’t think that’s true at all. After all, I’d like to think I know you pretty well, and I still want to see what you look like” Nadine counters, her words shocking Salvatore beyond belief.

She… knew him? How? When? In what ways? What?

The only other time they’ve ever interacted was back in Mother Miranda’s laboratory. While the hooded man supposed his gifts could be aiding in Nadine’s surprisingly positive impression of him, he hesitated to call receiving a dress and a necklace from a random stranger “knowing” someone. How on earth could she say she knew him when, for all intents and purposes, they’ve only just met?

“B-b-but… h-how… how d-do you k-know… m-me? Y-you have… t-trouble… seeing… d-dont you? D-did… did y-you see me… b-back in the l-lab?” Salvatore asks, tears belonging to an unspecified emotion once again beginning to fall as a hand moves to gently grasp at the bones lining the top of his hood.

“Unfortunately no, I wasn’t able to get a good look at you before, hence why I was trying so hard to catch a glimpse of you earlier. You are, however, right in the assumption about my eyesight. I have severely impaired vision, yes, but it's manageable with a strong enough prescription; not that I see myself getting to an eye doctor anytime soon for a new pair of contacts. But even without my contact lenses, I can still make out general movements, as well as general shapes and colors, pretty easily from far away, it's just fine details from a distance and darkness that give me the most trouble. My vision is actually perfectly normal so long as whatever I’m looking at is within a few feet of me. If I looked down right now, I’d probably be able to see your face normally. Do you hide your face away from everyone around here?” the young woman asks curiously, gently pulling the dark fabric of the hood back, slowly revealing Salvatore’s face to the dim light of the room, even as her gaze remained locked on the wall behind them.

“N-not… e-everyone… th-there’s a f-few… who… who I sh-show my f-face to… regularly” Salvatore chokes.

Really?” Nadine asks, “like who?”

“M-my… siblings.”

“Oh, so you’re not the only one around here then? Are your siblings here in the reservoir?”

“N-no… th-they live… in o-other places… of th-their own… a-around the v-village.”

“Wow, so there is more of this place to explore, then!” Nadine states excitedly. “I’d love to get out and see more of the area for myself at some point, though I doubt that’s very wise given the amount of howling I’ve heard the past few nights and the fact I don’t know my way around this area... though, even if I did, that memory is probably long gone along with the fucking rest of them… not that I would have wanted to hold onto them anyways, I don’t think.”

Salvatore’s attention is caught by the last bit of Nadine’s statement, confusion filling him over what the younger woman could possibly mean by what she’d just said. “‘G-gone along w-with the rest o-of them?’... W-what… d-does that… what d-do you m-mean?”

Nadine remains silent for a moment as she continues to absentmindedly stroke the side of Salvatore’s head, the hooded man unable to tell what she could possibly be feeling right now without risking exposing his face to her.

Thankfully, Nadine resumes speaking before Salvatore loses patience and gets too risky. “My memory of the life I had before waking up in that damn pod is foggy at absolute best, but I don’t need my memories to know that I wasn’t very happy with my previous life and that I was actively trying to get away from it somehow. What exactly was I even running from and where was I going? Who knows, and frankly I don’t care to relearn it either. I do think it's quite funny that you were talking about me needing to go somewhere else because this place isn’t good enough for me though, because honestly, even if I could somehow get the hell out of here, it's not like I’d have anywhere else to go. Getting away from the shitty life I had before is probably how I ended up here to begin with, though if I’d known this was how things would end up I might have reconsidered throwing it all away so suddenly.”

Had it not been for Mother Miranda being there for him throughout the years, Salvatore would probably think much the same way as Nadine about the whole situation, but having Mother meant he always had a purpose and a goal to work towards, so it didn’t matter that Salvatore couldn’t return to his old life. What shocked the deformed man the most however, was the fact that Nadine appeared to not only already accept the fact that she couldn’t go back to her former life, but seemed to actively be searching for something, anything new to try and fill the void that had been left behind by the life she’d, more or less, willingly gave away to come up here.

Could… could this mean…?

“Thankfully my ability to make new memories doesn’t seem to have been fucked up at all, which I’m quite happy about since I'll be needing to make a lot to fill in the empty spaces in my brain. We met for the first time in the underground laboratory I was being kept in, though I suppose it was less ‘meeting’ and more ‘seeing’ for the first time, but… still. I don’t know why you were there, or who was with you at the time, but I remember waking up just before you were about to leave. There were a couple others who’d come, before you, to look at me and a couple others for some reason, but you were the one who stuck out the most, to me. You were… special!”

Shock and dumbfounded awe nearly choke the life right out of Salvatore. He could barely comprehend a single word the young woman was saying to him, yet he clung to every heavenly syllable she uttered like they were the foundations of the word of god itself. The pain and agony he normally felt due to his cadou mutations momentarily paused, slowly weaning from its usual constant thrum to a dull numbness that felt surprisingly euphoric in all it’s nothingness.

“S-special? Me?” Salvatore breathed, almost unable to believe the words, even as Nadine hummed in affirmation of their truth. “B-but… how…?”

The giddy chuckle Salvatore’s mundane question pulled from Nadine shook the deformed man to his very core. Her girlish laughter rattles violently around inside the deformed man’s head, playing the sweet, holy tune over and over again, like a broken record that Salvatore would happily go insane listening to for the rest of eternity if he could.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’d have assumed you knew exactly what you were doing with how sweetly you talked back there, why it's almost criminal how suavely you stroked and tugged at the strings of my delicate heart. All the others were so rude, boring, and/or annoying that I thought I might die if I ended up stuck with one of them, but then you came in and swept me right off my feet. It was like nothing else I’ve ever felt before and immediately told me that you weren’t like all the others, you were a kind man and if I ever ran into you I could tell I’d be able to trust you…” Nadine trails off for a moment. “When I learned that we were being moved out of containment and onto our “permanent homes”, I hoped and prayed that I’d be lucky enough to end up wherever you were, but I didn’t want to get too excited until I found out for certain.”

“Th-then how did y-you know… it-it was me?”

“How could I possibly not? You set yourself apart from all the others right out of the gate. I'm honestly shocked you don’t remember it yourself. But there's not a single doubt in my mind that I know exactly who you are… er- well, I suppose a more appropriate way of putting that would be “I know exactly who you are to me”, not that what other people say or think has ever really been something I’ve taken with more than a grain of salt” Nadine giggle beautifully, smiling kindly as she cradled Salvatore’s hoodless, tear soaked face against her, like he were the most precious thing she’d ever laid eyes upon and wanted to hold and protect him until the end of time.

Unable to look away any longer, Salvatore allows his head to rise from his knees until it settles upon the face of the woman currently cradling him in her arms. Her gaze remained turned away from Salvatore for a moment, though for some reason the hooded man had a feeling that it was more out of respect for him and his boundaries than a lack of desire to see his face.

What a strange thing, to be treated with more kindness, love, and respect from a complete stranger than from the majority of people you interact with.

Salvatore wanted to cry when Nadine’s golden eyes finally lowered to him, her face slowly shifting downwards until their noses were little more than an inch apart from one another, though whether his tears were from agony or ecstasy, even he couldn’t properly tell at the present moment. Only one question was on his mind and the deformed man would stop at nothing until he got an answer for it.

“W-who… who am I-I… t-to y-you?” Salvatore asks, his voice barely above a whisper as he forces himself to stare directly into the endless pool of honey yellow swirling around in her irises, wanting-no… needing to know, to see with his own two eyes, what exactly he was to this woman, and whether that answer would spell endless disaster for him and his deep seeded desires, or be the key that unlocks a world of possibilities almost as endless as the spheres of gold that Salvatore finds himself unable, or rather unwilling, to tear his gaze from, lest this be the first, and last time he ever be blessed enough to see them from this close.

A long moment of silence passes as Nadine returns Salvatores gaze, the fondness of her expression only growing as she lowers her forehead to rest against his, a soft, almost breathlessly enamored expression that he’d only seen on black and white screens cast toward men eons more pleasant to look at than he was, slowly spread across her perfect face as she finally answers Salvatore’s question.

“You’re the lovely man who held my hand!”

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druidx · 3 years

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Family Treasures

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go (2015) Context: A friend linked me a TAG fic with the most perfect description of Lasagna I have ever read. I then got carried away and read nearly every fic she recommended to me... and then I figured I should watch the 2015 version of Thunderbirds (having only seen fragments of the original ‘60s show as a kid)... and then this happened. I’ve also been leaning heavily into the subtext thing still, so constructive criticism, with subtext in mind, is welcome on this piece. Words: 1700 CW: Injury mention, worried people, minor maudlin thoughts Tagged: @viawrites-andacts @strosmkai-rum @scribeofred Read on AO3

Kayo paces. Her sleek leather boots sink into the plush carpet of Tracy Island's lounge. She has been grounded by injury, left to recover while the Tracy boys are out there doing what they do best. She trusts them; knows they know what they're doing, knows they can handle themselves... But it doesn't help. Her fingers itch to activate the comms, but she doesn't. The boys don't need her micromanaging, and she trusts John to forward anything if he thinks she can assist... But still, the ache remains.

Those leather boots softly tap as she reaches the parquet flooring, and Kayo finds herself standing in front of Jeff's desk. It's a big, sturdy, mahogany thing. Impish sunlight glints off the polished surface, winking and laughing. It makes her think of Virgil. The sun drifts behind a cloud, and the laughter vanishes. She turns away.

Her steps lead her to the portrait of Thunderbird One, and the nicknacks beside it. Her eyes slide over the portrait – seen a hundred times before – to an antique barometer on the shelves. And there is Scott: Quicksilver in a glass; carefully controlled vim and daring. She pictures him in freefall, madcap laughter stolen by the rushing wind. The thought of his pack failing at fifty thousand feet is enough to have her leaning against the wall, head reeling like she's nosediving, seconds before the impact that has left her arm in a sling, and Thunderbird Shadow a pile of scrap.

Kayo huffs out her indignation at her weak and maudlin thoughts, wrenching back from the wall. She pinwheels away, her boots marking out time on the parquet as she passes in front of the vast window. Outside the sun glimmers off the swimming pool. Bright. Cheery. Such a laughable contrast to the storm inside. She wishes it were raining, dark skies and tempestuous winds. The bowl of forget-me-not blue is almost mocking in its temptation. She closes her eyes, breathing deeply, and brings herself back to ground level.

Kayo finds herself in the far corner of the lounge, at a kitschy '60s coffee table tucked into the fold of the room. On its surface sits a porcelain pug, which reminds her of Sherbet – and, by extension, his owner. It appears delicate – a dainty conversation piece; but her foot knows it is sturdier than one might think. Her eye catches on a woollen beanie, abandoned next to the pug – and she scowls; Lady Penelope has Parker to keep her from serious trouble. Kayo's brothers are up there without their usual safety net.

She turns back, pacing towards the piano. She plays only a little; her mother insisted, to start with. But after a year of tantrums and sword fights, Mama Kyrano gave up. But the island is empty – even Grandma Tracy is on the mainland – and the house is too quiet.

Kayo sits down at the piano and raises the lid, leaning absently to the side as a small, spring-loaded, plastic frog sails over her shoulder – the latest victim in the ongoing prank war. Her fingers wander over the ivories, and she settles into picking out Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star in the upper third. As the sweet notes fill the air, Alan comes to mind – bright, lively, graceful; effortless as the rising music. Kayo lifts her head as if she might somehow see to the edge of space; see Thunderbird Three shimmering with star-stuff as if picked out in the silver, gossamer notes she plays. She dismisses the fanciful thought with a twitch of the lips, finishing the refrain.

As her hand falls still, she looks across the room, gaze drawn back to Jeff's desk. She remembers the moment he asked her to become his head of security – when Papa Kyrano retired. She'd not long returned from her last field stint with Mossad when he'd called her to the desk. His lips had asked her to help him protect the world; his eyes had asked her to protect his boys.

Kayo sighs, the guilt of disappointing the indomitable Jeff Tracy laying heavily over her shoulders. She closes the lid and turns on the stool, intending to resume viewing life through the plate-glass barrier, when her foot nudges the plastic amphibian, abandoned on the floor. She picks the thing up, lips quirking at the cartoonish features – the bugging eyes and wide, red grin – and is inexplicably reminded of Gordon. Kayo places it on the piano, where it wobbles, brilliant green out of place on the ebony-silk surface. Three birds, two star-men, but only one squid-boy. She purses her lips and tries to tell herself the unease this thought causes is about lack of process redundancy. Perhaps she should expand her skillset in an aquatic direction...

She stands with purpose and walks over to the nook in which sits Goron's transport chute. But as Kayo reaches over to activate the chute, a flicker of something catches her eye. Her free hand is already fumbling for her stun-gun when the interloper reveals itself: a long-legged tropical spider has found its way into the aquarium. It flails and panics, and she wonders if it might drown. But even as she watches, it's already hoisting out of the water and building a complicated nest in the corner of the tank. Kayo watches it work, watches its ingenious use of resources in an unfamiliar environ, watches it engineer a refuge... and thinks of Doctor Hackenbacker. Distracted from her previous thought, Kayo turns away from the chute access, making a note to tell Gordon about the spider. She doesn't think it's a threat to the fish, and the lid is a four-handed affair. Besides, knowing Gordon, he'll want to coddle the thing before he releases it.

Instead, Kayo climbs to the mezzanine. Somewhere in the aether, a stack of security reports grows ever larger, but she is unable to read them, to even consider distracting herself with them at a time like this. Worry still fills the well of her stomach, bilious and vile. There are too many close calls, too many near misses. Too many times she's snatched one of her brothers from certain doom. She's so useless here. Idly, she picks up a blown-glass paperweight. Does John ever feel like this? she wonders as she stares into its nebulaeic swirls. Drifting high above them, like a flame-haired malāk – a messenger of God – with his brothers so far from his grasp, does John ever feel powerless? She wonders how he does it: how he can stay so removed from the action, remaining so calm. She wonders how he manages the silent panic that maybe this is the mission someone does not come back from.

The glass has chilled her hand, chasing phantom skeins of cold and fatigue through her body. Kayo carefully replaces the paperweight and makes her way back down the stairs. She settles into the sofa lining the conversation pit, a hand falling to her side as she allows her body to sink into the plush stuffing. Something rough touches the side of her hand, and Kayo fishes out a blackened cookie from where someone – Gordon or Alan, most likely – has stuffed it between the sofa cushions. Kayo screws up her nose, making a noise of revulsion. It's been at least a week since Grandma Tracy tried baking again. Mouth still in a down-curve of disgust, she leans to put the cookie on the table but finds herself pausing as the light sluices across its dark, oleaginous, undulating surface. It reminds her of the Iceland mission and the pictures of cooling magma Doctor Hackenbacker proudly showed off – and his lecture on igneous rocks. Created by fire, he'd said, melded and reforged into something tougher. Used the world over – even here on the island – as foundations. Unshakable and resistant to all the world could throw. It makes her think of the island's second foundation, of all Grandma Tracy has been through, and yet still stands firm and loving despite it.

She wishes any of her extended family were here, now. Like that spider, Kayo feels out of her depth, could do with someone strong, cheery, soothing; a solidity under her feet. But they are not.

Kayo is a woman who knows when her limits have been met. The island is empty, there's no one around to witness the break caused by cracks of worry, pain and fatigue. Her lip wobbles, vision growing hazy with tears. She gives a small sob, then another, allowing herself the luxury of a little cry.

"Kayo?" She sniffs, swatting at her eyes, and looks up to see Alan's hologram looking down at her, eyes pinched with worry, tone edging towards frantic. "Kayo, is everything okay? John-" "John," comes the even tone of the auburn-haired man who appears next, "should be more careful about what side remarks he makes while on comms to his worry-wart little brother." He rolls his eyes. "Sorry to disturb you, Kayo. But your telemetry did do something unusual a few moments ago-" "Kayo? Alan pinged me. What's your status?" Scott cuts in, as if they are in the sky and all is normal. Before Kayo can say anything, Lady Penelope appears, the picture of decorum and class as usual. "I'm sure it was nothing. Isn't that right, darling? Just a little wobble, eh?" her Ladyship says. "'Wobble'?" asks Gordon, from where he and Brains cluster behind the pilot of Thunderbird Two. "What the hell does- Hey!" Kayo's lips twitch in amusement, as Gordon rubs his head from where Virgil has given him a brotherly love-tap. "It means: keep your nose out, squid-boy," Virgil tells him. "Is everything okay, Kayo dear?" says Grandma Tracy. "John asked me to- Oh," she adds, looking at the packed comm channel. "Well, it looks like you all beat me to the pinch." She smiles and rubs the back of her neck. Kayo looks over her family with a swift, critical eye. Apart from Gordon's head, they all appear healthy and uninjured. Relief floods through her, loosening tense muscles. Her wry amusement turns into a full-blown smile. "I'm alright," she says. "Like Penny said, it was just a little wobble. Everything is F.A.B."

#writing #tanusha 'kayo' kyrano #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fandom #constructive critism welcome #wandering words

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notquitecanon · 4 years

Note

Ohhhh or maybe one where the reader just makes jasper talk for a while just cuz she adores his accent 🥺

Jasper could feel your bad mood from outside your house- he was always so attuned you you. If his abilities were anymore developed he would probably be able to see your mood like a dark storm cloud hovering outside of your bedroom. Alice had a vision in the middle of their hunt of how your day would go, but with the sunny weather and the face they were already in the Canadian wilderness- he could do nothing but hope it wasn’t too bad. After stopping by his house to change clothes, he made a beeline to the tree line that surrounded your yard like a natural property line. He’d seen your silhouette in your window starting at five pm, but couldn’t make a move until the sun had gone down. The last thing his family needed was Chief Swan getting called because your neighbor caught him climbing into your window. The moment the sun dipped below the tree line, he raced up and into your bedroom.

You had been wallowing in self pity: already showered, in pajamas, and lying face down in bed with your computer playing some of your music quietly. The moment he crossed into your room, you felt his presence like a calming wave washing over you. Eyes fluttering shut as some of the tension left your body, you muttered, “Jasper.”

“Evenin’ Darlin.” His voice was like honey-warm, sweeter than sugar, slow, and sticky. Drawing you into his words and keeping you there while he lingered on the edge of your room. Ever the gentleman, waiting for your invitation. Prying your head out of your pillow, you faced him.

While you observed his freshly glowing golden eyes, slightly disheveled blonde hair, statuesque posture, and heavenly face- he did the same, taking in your tense muscles, dark under eye bags, flushed cheeks, and the general feeling of resignation and annoyance in your emotional map. He didn’t fail to notice you’d been crying- you didn’t fail to notice that he noticed. You were the first to break the silence, adjusting yourself to meet his eyes easier, “Good hunt?”

Jasper breathed a quiet laugh, such an abnormal question asked so nonchalantly, but entertained the notion nonetheless, “Most of us went up into Canada, into the mountains. Emmet took on a pretty big grizzly so he’s in a particularly good mood. I got a Moose and a couple deer.”

You didn’t know what truly constituted a “good hunt” but his thirst seemed appeased so you nodded. The head ache that came after a long day hadn’t put you in a particularly chatty mood. Jasper filled the silence, “Alice told me you had a bad day- well, told me you would have a bad day. I’m sorry I couldn’t help, doll.”

Shaking your head, you brought your knees up to your chest before wrapping your arms around them, “Not your fault, Jazz, bad days happen.”

There was a beat of silence as the two of you stared at each other, him trying to dissect every emotion you were feeling and you mentally begging him to just drop it. Finally, you just patted the spot beside you, motioning for him to join you. Talking waant something you wanted to do, but just having him close would be a big step towards feeling better.

As always, the vampire had a hard time saying no to you. So with the mattress dipping beside you, he easily slid beside you- staying perfectly still until you were situated. As usual, you bunched up a blanket where you cheek would rest against his chest- thick enough to cushion against his stone chest but thin enough to be close enough to smell the comforting scent he always had on him. Cologne, cedar, leather, something woodsy, and a sweet scent you could never quite put a finger on. After letting you settle, he looked down to you, “Wanna talk about it, sugar?”

He felt you shake you head before you nestled closer to him, so he just wrapped his arm around you alternating between tracing patterns up you arm and running cold, graceful fingers through your hair. One of your arms flopped across him just to have more phsyical contact, and Jasper frowned out of your sight. Besides truly changing your emotions (which felt invasive), he didn’t know how else to help. So for the moment, he just let you curl into him. Golden eyes raked across the room before landing on a book on your nightstand so without jostling you, he easily snatched it up.

Not bothering to read the synopsis, he began flipping through the first chapter- quickly becoming amused at the scandalous historical fiction set during the Civil War in Mississippi. Now that he thought about it, he remembered Angela passing it off to you during third period. He chuckled at a particularly inaccurate and racy part. His laughter was deep and reverberated through his hard chest which roused you, at your movement, he tried to quiet himself, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. This book is just so terrible.”

His amusement made it hard not to smile as you tried to snatch the book out of his hands, the racy novel had been on lend from Angela and after the second chapter had been collecting dust on your nightstand. He easily kept it out of your reach, amusement growing at your protest (and quiet proud that he’d got you laughing again, he could already feel your mood lightening up). Listening to his laughter made you long to hear him talk in the smooth southern accent, about anything (anything other than that awful book), “Well, if the book isn’t up to par, how about you tell me what it was really like?”

As his chuckling was dying off, he thought about it before tossing the book back on the nightstand. It wasn’t that his past was an off limits topic, there was just a lot of it and he preferred to live in the moment with you. But you were staring up at him with hopeful eyes, and he could feel the remnants of sadness and frustration so he just nodded. “Well, first of all Mississippi didn’t see battle until The Spring of 1862, and union soldiers didn’t make any head way until a year later. So the notion that a this woman met a union soldier celebrating victroy in New Albany is just wrong. Even if it was true, she wouldn’t be so eager to fall into any soldiers tent considering Conderate troops would of torched her father’s plantation for being a sympathizer or vice versa.”

“Hmmm.” You hummed in response to the history lesson, before he continued going back and forth between learned history and personal experience until he hit where he was changed. You’d heard this story, traced the silvery scars on his arms, so once he went quiet you didn’t press any further. “So where were you at the turn of the century?”

“I was still with Maria, we were going back and forth across the border in Texas and New Mexico, I honestly didn’t now it was the new century until 1905, but we were the cause of the Austin Dam failure.” He mused, thinking pack, “I left shortly after the start of the First World War, to search for my friend Peter and because I was tired of fighting Maria’s battles- she starting to lose trust in me and me in her.”

You’d heard him talk about Peter and Charlotte, the only two he ever let escape, “Did you find him?”

“No, not until the late 1930’s, so I mostly just wandered around the South and the West as a nomad. The roaring twenties were fun between Chicago and Mexico City, I’d like to go back to New Mexico someday.” He thought aloud, cold lips ghosting on the crown of your head as his grip on you tightened ever so slightly. The hand laid over him searched for his so you could intertwine you fingers with him. He squeezed for a moment before detaching just to play with you fingers, burning hot compared to his cold touch.

“Where’d you go next?” You asked, letting him gently tug and curl your fingers with his. Jasper laughed bringing your knuckles up to his lips. When he had just fed, it was so much easier to be so close- which is where he preferred to be.

“You’re mighty full of question tonight, ma’am.” He teased, dropping you hand in favor of lightly digging his fingers into your side. The quiet squeal, laughter, and weak attempts at fighting him off was so delightfully human that he couldn’t help but do it every now and then. Jasper gave you a moment to calm down before continuing, “I spent some time in Tennessee and then Kentucky, the Great Depression hit those areas pretty hard, but it was better than being involved in a territory war.”

“Peter and Charlotte ran into me in the Appalachian mountains- that would be the late 30’s- it was easier to hunt without gaining attention up there.” He paused to gauge you reaction, carefully checking for any fear. Finding none, he sighed in relief before continuing, “They told me about Coven’s in the North, how there weren’t many territory disputes and how in some areas they could even go out in day light...”

You let your eyes slip closed, tension melting as you listened to his honeyed words, and his fingers toyed with your hair. Jasper kept going, talking about traveling with Peter and Charlotte through the Midwest and Northern states before breaking off from them too. Then it was the Fifties, going into a diner and meeting Alice. You’d always envied Alice a bit for her closeness to Jasper, even though you knew neither of them felt that way for each other, but you were also incredibly grateful to her- who knows where Jasper would be without her.

“I remember she said that I’d kept her waiting long enough and I thought to myself I’ve never seen this woman in my life, but I sat down with her regardless and she told me about ‘vegetarianism’ and our future family. I could feel her excitement but I thought she was crazy.” He laughed to himself, a beautiful sound. You’d heard this story a few times from him and Alice. “I was about to go on my way, leave Alice in the wind when she told me something I couldn’t ignore.”

You perked up, neither of them had ever mentioned this part of the story. Craning you’re neck up, you saw he was watching you expectantly with a soft smile tugging those perfect lips up- waiting for a reaction, “She told me that she’d seen me with my soulmate and her future family. She couldn’t tell me when, or where, or how, but she’s seen it and I had to trust her. She felt so sincere and I’d been lonely for so long that I left with her that very afternoon.”

You sat up very suddenly, blood rushing to your cheeks ass you turned around to him, “Jasper, you’ve never told me that before! What are you doing with me then?”

Jasper couldn’t help but grin at the flash of indignation and feisty anger, but quickly frowned when it morphed to hurt. His movement was much faster and infinitely more graceful than yours as you took your face in his hands, “You were the girl in the vision, (Y/N), you’re what I’ve been waiting for.”

It was like someone pulled a plug on your negative emotions as they drained out to be replaced by jittery happiness, and he didn’t need his brother’s telepathy to see the wheel’s turning in your head, “Oh.”

Meanwhile, you were trying to figure out the appropriate reaction to being told your someone’s soulmate. You’d never really imagined life without Jasper, you’d long since admitted to yourself that he was the love of your life, “Well, I’m glad you believed her otherwise I could be with Mike Newton right now.”

It was a bad joke, but he laughed nonetheless and pulled you back down with him, now wrapping both arms around you-effectively trapping you to his chest, but you had no reason to be afraid or even attempt to break free. There was a long pause of silence, him sending off soothing vibes, (it was getting pretty late) listening to the sound of your heartbeat as it slowed, and waiting for you to doze off. It did surprise him when you spoke back up.

“Where’d you go next?” It was quiet, sleepy, but a request he wouldn’t deny. He’d pay you back by asking a hundred inane question about your childhood tomorrow.

Pulling your comforter over the two of you, he adjusted you to what would be a more comfortable sleeping position. He continued, “Well, in took a few years but eventually we met Carlisle who welcomed us to the family with open arms. It took a bit to adjust to the new life of going to highschools and colleges, being around humans. Alice would occasionally drop little hints about you, your hair color, eye color, things you would do in her visions, and that was enough to encourage me to stay with it.”

You only hummed in response, turning over a bit as you let him nudge you towards sleep. Jasper was more than surprised when you made it to the mid-seventies without falling asleep, but was satisfied that he could no longer read any anger or frustration on you. Brushing a lock of hair out of your sleeping face, he silently laughed at your unconscious reaction to his cold touch. Yes, he had waited nearly sixty years for you.

“Good night, darlin’. I love you.”

Bad moods and all, he’d wait a hundred years more for moments like these.

#jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock x reader

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clownattack · 4 years

Text

Castor - character bio

I’ve been struggling with getting a bio out for Cas for waaaaay too long now, but i feel pretty ok with how it looks currently - i'm going to repost it on my art blog with some drawings of Cas and Hjalle in the future (hopefully). If you want to skip most of the nonsense and just get a feel for her personality, the section under the bio paragraphs is FULL OF POINTS.

links to drawn refs here and here

Longpost under the cut

✦ Early life in Hjalle:

Being born into the noble family Aran, Castor’s early life consisted mostly of being pampered by the attendants and strict education. Cas was a rowdy kid, and with time, lack of affection and validation from her family served to amplify the trait - she went from occasionally disobedient to full-on antagonistic towards her parents, and the nobility as a whole. She began to sneak out; spending her time outside of the Fort, spying on the guards and trying to bribe knights into taking her on as a page.

When Cas turned nine a sibling came into the picture, and she made it her duty to assure Aster’s upbringing would be better than hers. She poured everything she had into Aster, but soon developed a brash and overbearing streak, unyielding in her focus to teach the meek little sister to stand her ground. Aster became torn between Cas and the parents, who in all fairness, treated her much better than their firstborn. This would remain the case until Castor’s dragon-induced injuries.

In her late teens, Cas was seldom seen in the fort - to everyone's great relief. Her mood was always sour, she gave up on her studies and only seemed to care about Aster and joining the hunting parties. Her parents reached their limit when Castor announced she would not become one of the renowned judges of House Aran - this led to an explosive argument, which concluded with Castor storming out. For the following two years, she lived and worked with rangers tasked with protecting and providing for the town.

It was in those years that Cas acquired her battle prowess and scars, the most prominent being a gift from an especially large and angry dragon. A single swipe of its tail tore Castor’s chest and forearm open, forcing the hunting party to rush her to the fort in (what the hunters expected to be) a futile attempt to get her family to provide medical help for their dying kin. The reception was cold indeed, and if it weren’t for Aster’s hysterics and outrage over her family’s indifference, Cas would have not survived the grievous wounds. The upside to this event was a new high tale to impress people with, and strengthening the bond between two sisters. The downside - Castor was now under her parent’s thumb. They made her accept the position of inquisitor; to make up for the hassle she caused them. Taking up the mantle turned Castor’s world upside down - not only would she have to work in close proximity to her father, but her dreams of being knighted were shattered, as inquisitorial duties stand in stark opposition to virtues of knighthood. As Inquisitor she was tasked with investigating and interrogating for the court - the latter, as Aran tradition had it, was extraordinarily bloody.

✦ Vesuvia:

Almost as soon as she arrived, the city sparked something in Cas. This was unexpected to say the least; she was certain the years of gruesome work as inquisitor numbed her to simple joys of life. The sights and sounds of Vesuvia however, made her eager to explore and see how everything ticked - and the more she saw the more she wished to remain in the city. After attending the Masquerade and becoming acquainted with Asra, Cas was prepared to do anything to stay - even if it meant sucking up to the Buffoon count and begging for a job. Lucio proved to be anything but opposed - he’d heard of the “bloody good shows” (pun intended) Castor was infamous for, and was eager to take her off her parents hands. This led to working parallel to the count and his court, but also enabled Cas to dabble in magic under Asra’s tutelage.

This slight betterment of Cas’ situation would not last long however, as The Red Plague took complete hold of the city mere months after she took up her residence in Vesuvia. After perishing, and being brought back by Asra, she very slowly regains certain memories and traits - her sister, love of astronomy, sword skills. She sneaks out, snoops, and is a handful overall; but Asra is happy to see Castor’s “new” self free of bitterness and pain.

After this point, the “game events” take place. I like to imagine Castor braving an amalgam of Nadia and Portia routes, with a fistful (or multiple) of courtier drama. Castor is tasked with an investigation, slowly but surely unravelling how deep the corruption runs in Vesuvia, and how much of it can be attributed to the courtiers. The conclusion of her story focuses on first facing off against the court, then the Justice Arcana.

✦ Physical appearance

Light olive skin, she picks up a slight tan in Vesuvia.

Dark gray eyes, striking marbling on the iris.

Long girl - 176 cm tall, loves being the “tall friend” (and manhandling people close to her). Being taller than her is taken as an indirect challenge.

She has a rectangular body type, could be described as a “runner’s body”.

Prominent scarring across right forearm and torso, missing right breast.

Tastefully disheveled. Her hair has a constantly windswept quality, and the gray streaks seem to be especially unruly.

Inherited the “Aran silver” (early graying), she tries to ignore it. “The more you hide it, the more it shows”.

Secretly really bothered by the many similarities to her father. Avoids looking at herself too much, and whenever she does it feels like he’s looking back at her, judging.

Only ever smoothes herself over before important court meetings and social events. She doesn't know how makeup works, so before any party she asks Asra to sort her out. Cas looking prim is both a treat and a source of friendly jabs.

✦ Character traits

Power walking by default. This can be somewhat intimidating, and she won’t stop if someone is in her way - just put them to the side and continue.

Puts up a really convincing pretence of formality and refinement.

In actuality she finds this facade tiresome, and just wants to talk fast about battle/hunting feats or astronomy. Maybe show off her pyromancy.

Loves socializing, it recharges her batteries.

Dilligent worker.

Tends to overwork herself and neglect her relationships.

Often scatter minded and wanting to do too many things at one time.

Doesn’t appreciate people instigating physical contact or getting up in her face. She needs to prepare herself for it, or be the initiator.

Stubborn as a mule. Never knows when to stop pressing people.

Extremely callous at times.

Annoyingly overbearing

Most of this springs from a place of fear - things had a habit of getting worse whenever her family imposed decisions onto her. In her mind, if she’s the one holding the reins, everything will be better. And if something does fail - she will be the only one to blame.

Starting arguments comes much too easily to her, but she’s just as quick to introspect, and seek out the person she argued with to apologize and approach the issue in an appropriate manner.

Forgives easily

Eternally scoffing at astrology. She knows shes being bigoted, but at this point its almost like an inside joke between her and Asra. “Astrology? It's baby stuff. PSEUDOSCIENCE!” (she cries as she worries over her afternoon tarot reading and preparing pretty horoscopes for the Shop...)

A huge hypocrite at times. “Do as I say, not as I do” could easily be her motto.

Both the upright and reversed Knight of Swords card sums her character up perfectly.

✦ Occupation & Residency

Vesuvia:

Beginning of her story follows the game canon almost to a T - Cas lives with Asra in the Shop, and works there. It bores her to death, and she plays tricks on every customer just to entertain herself.

After being officially hired by Nadia as the Palace Magician, Castor moves out of the shop and purchases a modest house in Goldgrave, much below the value of what Nadia offered her, and what she could afford. It’s convenient and that’s what matters to Cas. She continues supplying the shop diligently, and takes over whenever Asra runs off.

Nadia insisted on Castor having an office in the palace. It grew on her with time, and after The Devil is dealt with it becomes her little “hub”.

Hjalle:

Cas lived with her family in the castle site until 17 years old.

After denying her parents their plans for her future as a judge, she hunkered down in a hunting lodge outside of the town, and spent almost two years living that way - she still thinks of these two years as the most joyous time in her life.

The only thing she ever used her family’s wealth for was commissioning the construction of an extravagant observatory. Reminiscent of a gothic fortress, the stark exterior is contrasted with insides filled with artwork and art-nouveau ornaments. The central chamber is a vast library with a powerful telescope in its apse - it is a sight that could take the breath of the most haughty of nobles.

There’s a tiny living space below the main chamber, furnished sparingly, but with a lovely fireplace (in Hjalle, its a necessity). It’s where Cas stays after becoming the inquisitor/whenever she visits after the in-game events.

✦ Trivia

Cas is 23 years old when she first arrives to Vesuvia - 28 at the time of The Devil’s downfall.

She freed Merlin from a merchant’s cage in the Red Market, during one of her outings in the three year interlude after her death - Asra fumes after they find out she snuck out to the market - yet is amazed that Cas found a familiar.

Cas regained her first memories via touching objects linked to her past life - a letter from Aster, articles of clothing, a sword...

This self re-discovering takes a turn for the worse when Cas finally finds a large, ornate knife - the one she inherited after becoming inquisitor. The memories it resurfaces are a staggering blow to Castor, completely derailing the beliefs she had about her own person. She thought of herself as a paragon, and remembering the torture she inflicted upon others, the lives taken in the name of “justice” made her relapse into bitterness and disenchantment. She deals with those feelings as her investigation into the courtiers progresses.

Predominantly uses pyromancy, other types of magic are strictly used for her work at the palace, and rather sparingly.

Could be best described as a battlemage - enjoys being in melee range and assaulting her quarry with both sword and fire; the latter being used more as a way to distract or stagger the enemy than actually harm. There's no fun in just burning them up!

Doesn’t cook for herself, although she has a natural knack for it - will only cook for guests and short people.

Her dislike of Lucio clashes with gratitude for employing her when she first arrived to Vesuvia - he was the knife which cut Cas off from her parents, and it’s something she could never forget.

Demiromatic/sexual.

She was offered to be knighted by Nadia after defeating The Devil. Cas declined - It’s much more than a title to her, and accepting seemed like mockery (considering her past as inquisitor).

Short fuse, she learns to better control herself while working in the palace. But if someone really pushes her the nearby candles miiiight get a bit out of control. Or she’ll just throttle them.

Hates her full name - Castor is such a mouthful. Sounds stuck up too...

#mc cas #castor aran #apprentice castor #oc bio #longpost #im pretty sure this is just incomprehensible #also text formatting on tumblr SUCKS i never knew until now #ive beed rewriting this for SO LONG NOW and im TIRED #so ill just leave it here #and if i ever feel like i can do better #oblivion is but a click away #begone #post #i cant write so PLEASE forgive me for the sins contained in this

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sleephyjhs · 4 years

Text

You Hug Them when in Distress (REACTION)

all members are included under the ‘keep reading’ link

m.list | requested

tw: mentions of emotional distress

KSJ

You stormed into Seokjin’s apartment, your bag in hand ready to throw onto the couch. He’d allowed you to use his place to study for your university exams since libraries and classrooms were packed. The isolated work space had allowed you to complete what you thought would be good revision, but your first exam was nothing but disaster.

“How did it go?” He asked, coming out from the wall that separated the dining room. You grunted in frustration, chucking your bag at the large sofa cushions, “Oh dear. I take it not too well?”

Seokjin was your best friend, you weren’t afraid to cry around him. Scorching tears slivered down your cheeks while you whimpered in all the different emotions you could think of. He sat beside you, reaching out to rub your back as you curled into your knees, “I’ve failed, I know I have!”

“Listen-“ He began. Before you allowed him to continue, you raised your head and buried it into his shoulders. Your arms reached around his frame as you cried harder into his shirt. Seokjin paused in his upcoming anecdote and shifted his hands to attempt and comfort you, “Listen, this was only the first of.. seven? You have six more chances to show them how amazing you really are, yeah?”

The congested sniffles that accompanied tears were upcoming, “I hope you’re right.” Even his presence was relief enough. He tightened his hold around your shaking body and began to slowly rock you. It went without saying that Seokjin was one of your most trusted friends, and above that, a good shoulder to cry on.

MYG

Constant alert sounds from your phone easily caught Yoongi’s attention. You were never this popular. The idea of muting your ex hadn’t even crossed your mind; instead you allowed yourself to read the abusive messages.

The spiteful comments that continued to roll across the top of your phone became like daggers. Once upon a time, such remarks wouldn’t have affected you, but even you had your thresholds. Amidst the messages, your long-hidden tears began to well at the brims of your eyelids and soon enough, they had fallen.

“Come on, what’s going on?” Yoongi asked, waddling over to your spot on the couch. He had been the person who’d helped you out of a harsh breakup, you were relieved to be in his presence, “Is it him?”

You handed over your phone to Yoongi who resumed to flick through the tens of messages. While he held your phone, you rested your head on his shoulder and proceeded to embrace him. Yoongi had never been the biggest on surprise skinship, but he’d never turn you away, “He’s just being annoying, that’s all.” You insisted through weighted sniffs.

Using his spare arm, Yoongi reached around to grip your shoulder affirmingly, “I’ll take care of it. You don’t need to worry, alright?”

JHS

A few months ago, at the end of spring, you’d been unfortunate enough to have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Never did you think that it could happen to you, but it did. When on the highway, another driver had misjudged the gap between you and another truck, resulting in your car being pushed over another lane and you sustaining a couple of minor injuries.

It wasn’t serious, you’d won your claim and insurance had covered the damage to your car. But in the few seconds that it took to harm your car, the entirety of your life had flashed before you. Sometimes, when left to overthink, the initial panic of the incident returns and you can’t help but become upset.

Hoseok looked over to your place at the dining table where you continuously picked at your nails. It was only a nervous habit, but one that you made obvious enough for concern, “Overthinking?” He asked, carrying a bowl through to the kitchen.

You stared into space to process his simple question. Hoseok turned his back to begin cleaning the used dishes, and as he did, you began to pace over to him, “Was it my fault? The accident?” Trembling vocal chords made your distress sound more apparent, and your building panic earned a empathetic sigh from Hoseok.

Before he had the chance to answer, you wrapped your arms around his stomach and laid against his back. He froze in place, clearly started by your sudden gesture. Nevertheless, he welcomed it, “Not at all. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, that’s all.”

KNJ

It had been apparent to you for months that your workplace wasn’t stable enough to keep operating, and that sooner or later you’d have to find a new job. A new job, with pay as good or even better than before, would be near impossible to find. Especially with your limited schedule and infinite amount of students searching for workplaces, you were prepared to give up before you’d even begun.

Time was the single security you had in your situation, but after losing your job a few days ago, the only thing burdened in your mind was stress. To try and distract yourself for a few hours at the least, you’d invited your best friend, Namjoon, to a near café to catch up. You spoke almost everyday on the phone, but you’d failed to mention the loss of your income in fear of breaking down.

He approached the far table you waited at enthusiastically, “Hey!” His coat was already sling down his arms and over the back of his chair. Instead of returning his verbal greeting, you raised from you chair and hugged him instead. It was a rarity for you, but it felt right, “This is sudden? What’s up?”

You retracted from his embrace shortly. Having known Namjoon for as long as you had, you were aware his advice and willingness to help you in any situation were simply invaluable, “Could you help me with a few things? I desperately need it.

PJM

Moving to Seoul to study was easily the biggest decision you’d made so far in your life and by far the best. You’d met so many incredible people that you never would have met by staying in Busan, but of course, you couldn’t help but miss home.

Your homesickness became worse around your birthday. Not being able to celebrate with your family and old friends was the worst part of it all. Your current friends were more than capable of throwing you the perfect party, but it still wasn’t complete.

After the move, Jimin had quickly grown to become your best friend. As he was also from Busan, he was able to listen to you rambling about every aspect of childhood you missed and understand your longing for home. A couple of days following your birthday, Jimin visited you apartment just to spend time with you on your day off, and following a conversation relating to your birthplace the familiar feeling of homesickness had returned.

Emerging from the laundry room, you found Jimin stood in the kitchen drinking from a mug oblivious to your whereabouts. Without the time to think of words, you hugged him gently from behind, careful not to spill any beverage, “Everything okay back there?”

“Homesick, nothing much.”

“Tell you what,” Jimin started, turning around and using his spare hand to softly pat your back, “when there’s time in our schedules, we’ll go to Busan together. I miss it too.”

KTH

Since you were a teenager, you knew that your dream job was to work in childcare. As the youngest in your family, you’d never been able to watch somebody grow up in front of you, and so the opportunity was appealing. Working in a preschool was everything you wanted in a job, but of course, it came with it’s stresses.

Taehyung, one of your closest friends, was staying with you for a couple days and was always back at your apartment by the time you were home. You pushed the front door open, quick to dump your shoulder bag on the sofa and kick your shoes to the side of the corridor, “How was your day?” He asked, turning to look away from his phone as he sat cross-legged across the room.

There were a million different ways to describe your lacklustre day and yet none of them were available to you. Instead, you heaved a sigh and walked over to lay next to him. Taehyung welcomed your head in his lap as he became more aware of your exhaustion, “It’s harder than you think, working with kids. They’re amazing but constant headaches and bickering.. it’s tiring after so long.”

“No, I can imagine.” He assured you, twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers, “How does tea sound? Or coffee? Vodka?”

You stifled a laugh at his somewhat successful attempt to make you smile, “Camomile sounds great, Tae.”

JJK

Selling prints of your artwork was a business you never imagined taking off, but a fair share of your income was earned from people enjoying what you made. Nothing made you happier than to see people praise and appreciate what you loved to do, and so it was just an added bonus that you could make money from it.

All orders you received were packaged in your own front room. Stacks of drawers filled with stickers, envelopes, cards and products framed the wall of your study. As you were preparing to fill out a surge of overnight orders, your doorbell sounded. Of course, it was your best friend.

Jungkook didn’t often make surprise visits, but they were always welcome when they took place. For once, you couldn’t even fake a smile to greet him; the stress of your task was already getting to you and you hadn’t even started, “Come see what I’m doing.”

You led him through to the room where you’d only laid out the tens of coloured envelopes you were ready to use. His dropped jaw and widened doe eyes demonstrated the same level of shock you felt. Sighing in disbelief of your task, you buried your face into his chest, “I didn’t think it would ever get this big.”

After evaluating the situation before him and considering the amount of time he had, Jungkook proposed an offer to you that was impossible to deny, “If you teach me how, I’ll help you. It looks like fun, really!”

You rolled your eyes at his constant enthusiasm, of course still glad he had it, “You won’t be saying that in 10 minutes time, I promise.”

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mythicamagic · 4 years

Text

Soul Mates: Sesskag fanfic - chapter one

Written for @stormielikeweather, I hope you’re doing okay bud

Summery: Soulmate AU where soulmates share pain. Kagome feels Sesshoumaru’s arm being cleaved off as though its her own. He in turn feels the moment when a piece of her soul is ripped out. As soul mates they want nothing to do with each other, but some aches and pains are too difficult to ignore. Sesskag two-shot.

Rated M

Posted on Ao3, fanfiction.net and Dokuga

AN: This two-shot will loosely go through the canon events of the anime, retelling it with a few soul mate things sprinkled in. I'd say that if you don't remember the anime too well or you haven't seen all of it then this fic might lose you in places. But either way I hope you enjoy!

Warning: Will have smut in the second chapter.

Soul Mates - Chapter One

He'd first experienced it when lazing one quiet evening in a hot spring.

Crickets had softly chirped, surrounding trees silent and still, nocturnal animals keeping their distance while the lord of the west tipped his head back. His golden half-lidded gaze slid over the stars, the humidity dampening pale bangs, long hair trailing around him in the water, steam licking at the surface. Muscles coiled and pulled taut as Sesshoumaru stretched languidly, in the middle of a sigh- when his relaxed noise abruptly cut off.

Pain lashed through his side, like that of claws ripping through the skin under his ribs. A plume of red leaked into the water. Automatically pressing a hand to his side, furious youki swamped the area. No matter how much he probed and searched with his energy however, no foe was unearthed. Rising from the pool, Sesshoumaru pulled his hand away, noting the blood with mounting outrage. As suspected, several slashes had cut into his flesh, though from the indents he suspected teeth were at play, not claws.

Some lowly demon saw fit to bite this one? I should answer with their death, he mused darkly. The moment he thought this, however, Sesshoumaru witnessed the blood fade. Even his flesh returned to normal, unmarked and unmarred.

It was as though nothing had happened.

Sesshoumaru blinked, frowning to himself. He possessed divine skills, rapid healing among them, but even a Daiyoukai such as he knew the limits of his power and Sesshoumaru had never healed so quickly before.

Curling his hands into fists, the demon waded out of the hot springs.

As the days crawled on and Sesshoumaru and his vassal pursued directions from the staff of two heads, the incident fell to the back of his mind. Without a foe to fight, no leads and no serious repercussions from the bite, it fell beneath his immediate notice.

----

She'd first noticed it while standing upon the bones of Inuyasha's father, a few weeks into her feudal era adventure. A stabbing pain had stung her eye, but Kagome had dismissed it as a consequence of the fumes filling the tomb. No, what really made her take notice was something much larger.

"You should shut up and let me protect you!"

Kagome stared, watching as Inuyasha padded towards his murderous elder brother. Her breathing had hitched, something stirring within her chest at those words. Inwardly, she cheered him on as he'd begun to fight, swinging Tetsusaiga at the inuyoukai. Her cheers soon snuffed out, however.

A hot, burning sensation carved up the inside of her arm- causing the girl to throw her head back and scream. The slash dragged up and up- slicing through skin and bone like butter and cleaving off. She'd never experienced pain like it. Her nerves exploded as bare knees hit the ground. Clutching her arm and crying out in agony, her body writhed and twitched. Kagome could barely breathe it hurt so much, choking on tear laced sobs. Blood soaked her skin under her shirt but she barely noticed. Nothing else registered except the burning sensation of having her arm cut off.

Inuyasha slashed the blade in a wide arc, hitting Sesshoumaru in the chest, once twice, then three times. She knew because she felt every hit, despite not knowing entirely where the pain was coming from or why. With a whimper, the world turned dark, Kagome's head hitting bone.

After taking her back to Kaede's hut, Inuyasha had scoffed.

"Didn't expect ya to pass out from the sight of me cutting off that bastard's arm. Kinda delicate, ain't ya?" He sneered almost teasingly.

Kagome didn't rise to the bait, leaning heavily against the wall. Her fingers remained clamped around her very real, very whole and connected left arm. Inuyasha blinked, ears flicking. Kaede sent him a hard look from the irori, stirring a pot.

"Whatever. You better toughen up if you're gonna hang around here," he grunted moodily.

"Hey, Inuyasha," Kagome said quietly. It was the first time she'd spoken since the ordeal. Nethier the old miko nor the hanyou had seen her so withdrawn before, nothing like her usual sassy, hardheaded and chipper self. "Your brother…" she murmured, "does he have some kind of…psychic abilities?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

She stared at the wall, voice soft. "Can he share his pain with others? Force them to feel what he's feeling?"

Inuyasha frowned, hesitating, before shaking himself. "Keh, sounds too emotional for him. Nah he's not capable of that. You hit your head or somethin? Sleep off that weird attitude you have right now, it's creepy," he muttered, storming out of the hut.

Kagome shifted, placing a hand over her chest where she could vividly recall muscle and bone tearing, those sharp slashes leaving aftershocks. Strangely enough, her clothes hadn't been stained with any blood.

But it had felt so real…

"Are ye well, child?"

Kagome looked up at Kaede shakily. "Ah, yeah I'm fine," she forced a smile and waved it off.

The old woman's single eye remained upon her, sliding a cup of tea over the tatami mat.

Picking it up, Kagome watched it tremble in her hand, the contents sloshing violently until it spilt over one side. Kagome set it down, hugging her arms and fidgeting absentmindedly.

Kaede's brows drew together. "... Why do ye keep pinching your left arm like that?"

Pulling her fingers away from her skin, Kagome rubbed the abused flesh a little awkwardly. She watched her worried reflection trapped within the teacup. "I just want to remind myself that it's there," she mumbled.

---

Laying in a reclined position against a tree, Sesshoumaru panted. Hissing out a breath, long fingers clutched at the empty sleeve of his left side. The tremors started again, as they usually did at night when he attempted to sleep.

Phantom limb pain had been a foreign concept to the proud Lord, but he was not so certain it was meant to feel like this.

He could still 'feel' the need to twitch his fingers that no longer existed on that side, wince at the blazing wound of his stump, but the worst part revealed itself to be the little pinches. The invisible twinges along his phantom arm, like the missing limb, remained as some invisible spectre. It taunted what he did not have anymore mockingly. He hated it.

The twinge came again, like thumb and forefinger had twisted the flesh of his elbow. Growling, Sesshoumaru dragged sharp claws over his shoulder, biting them into his flesh and burrowing his face into mokomoko's warmth in frustration. The twinges abruptly stopped, and Sesshoumaru breathed out shakily, resting a little easier.

---

During the following month, he continued to experience various twinges of pain. They were strange, minor wounds for the most part: scuffs on his single palm and knees like he'd taken a fall, a throbbing at the back of his skull, various cuts and bruises, all soon fading the moment he paid them any notice. By far the most unsettling moment came when mid-step, Sesshoumaru's body flared alive, a gasp caught in his throat, eyes flying wide.

"Mi Lord? Ah-! Lord Sesshoumaru!" Jaken's surprise turned into horror as his lord's eyes flashed red and sharp rattling noises of pain escaped him.

Sesshoumaru shamefully steadied himself against a tree, face pale, sweat beading on his temples. It felt as though someone had reached inside his chest and ripped out something essential. Instinct grappled to seize back the puzzle piece, but he could not fight something invisible and formless. Loud ringing deafened elfin ears, a scream caught up in the back of his throat.

Stop-

His energy flared and rippled, thunderous growls hissing out of his throat, teeth bared.

But the unknown foe did not show itself, and soon Sesshoumaru was left with rippling aftershocks. Whatever had occurred, it did not seem to have left any long-lasting damage to himself, just as always.

Straightening, Sesshoumaru caught his breath. Twitching a little, his youki sank back into his body. Feeling oddly bereft, he tilted his chin up. "We will not speak of what just occurred," he uttered.

"V-very well sire, but… does it not trouble you?"

Sesshoumaru continued walking as though nothing had happened, instincts prodding at him that something was wrong, missing.

"Ridiculous," was all he said, voice crisp and sharp. Nonetheless, unlike what had transpired at the hot springs, Sesshoumaru felt himself continually root around within himself for that missing something, like he'd left an essential item at home.

---

When they came face to face with Inuyasha's older brother once more, their duo had become a group. Shippo and Miroku looked at the demon with a mix of wariness and curiosity. Kagome stared with mild fear. Not of Sesshoumaru, though he warranted it, but of experiencing the same pain she had last time.

Since then, Kagome hadn't felt any significant amount of unknown pain, just some claw marks on her shoulder one evening. Her own experiences with very real danger had taken up all her attention.

The crippling sensation of part of her soul being ripped out to animate Kikyo's body hadn't been something easily shaken.

Still, the sensation of having her arm hacked off remained the single most awful thing she'd ever experienced. Deep down, a part of her somewhat felt sympathy towards the proud lord. If that pain had indeed been his and not a random burst of torture, Kagome couldn't be entirely indifferent towards him even if he did look ready to murder them all.

They fought him as before, Sesshoumaru somehow having two arms instead of one- until Kagome clicked that it was being animated by a jewel shard.

While Inuyasha scrambled and slashed at him, Sesshoumaru taunted his brother with quiet, silky words. Kagome nocked her bow from the sidelines, hesitating for a moment.

If she did hit Sesshoumaru, would she feel it? Maybe that pain had just been a weird one-off. Shaking herself, Kagome noticed the dire situation at hand- Sesshoumaru holding Tetsusaiga aloft, steady to strike his brother down.

It didn't matter if she got hurt, she had to help!

Letting the arrow fly free, it pinged off the mighty sword's blade, causing it to revert back to it's usual dulled, thin shape.

"Sesshoumaru!" she yelled, quickly nocking another arrow and aiming it at his still figure. "The next one is aimed at your heart!"

His handsome features were drawn into a mild frown, frustration seeming to tick his jaw.

"Inuyasha, make your escape! Hurry!" Kagome barked, trying to get across to just move already. Her gaze remained locked with Sesshoumaru's, not about to risk looking away. "I'll shoot at your left arm," she threatened. "I know there's a shard of the jewel embedded there!"

Surprise and anger flashed in Sesshoumaru's flinty gaze.

With Inuyasha not budging and still in danger, she fired unprovoked. Dodging and raising a deadly hand, the Killing Perfection blurred through the air towards her.

Gasping, Kagome stumbled back on her heels. His speed was phenomenal- and he was surely going to kill her if she didn't do something!

Inuyasha, ever her knight in dulled armour, leapt up behind Sesshoumaru and snarled, swiping his claws. Forced to move aside, Sesshoumaru didn't get the chance to strike, silently sneering as he floated out of reach. Inuyasha dropped down protectively before her.

"Get out of here, Kagome!"

She blinked, a little high off the power of commanding the Daiyoukai's presence and wielding a weapon, (both new and concerning sensations she'd never experienced before; she was not bloodthirsty) but decided to listen. A strange pressure weighed in her stomach, skin pricking with the awareness of eyes upon her. As she ran off to find Shippo and Miroku, she glanced back out of curiosity and stiffened. Sesshoumaru stared after her. He'd looked as if he could have cheerfully strangled her right there and then.

Shivering in delicious shock, Kagome faced forward and smiled to herself, hurrying off with a rather triumphant skip in her step.

However, the strange magnetism between them pulled demon and miko together again not long after.

Kagome grit her teeth and fired, her arrow shattering his spiked shoulder armour into pieces.

Once again was in service of protecting Inuyasha. Kagome stood with Shippo beside her, adrenalin coursing through her veins. She liked it. She liked the power of staring into his wide, disbelieving eyes as his armour crumbled like broken clay to his feet.

Slowly, Sesshoumaru collected himself, expression frosty.

"Inuyasha, make her stop," he quietly demanded.

Inuyasha yelled something about backing off but Kagome didn't listen, high on the hubris of fighting. She let another arrow fly- and this time Sesshoumaru lifted a hand, catching it deftly between his claws mid-air.

The smoothness with which he'd acted knocked her world off its axis.

Her reiki coursing through the arrow was snuffed out by the dominating coat of green, deadly acid hissing out of his fingers. Soon enough the arrow was melted.

The colour drained from Kagome's face. Shit.

With his own arrogant look, Sesshoumaru's heel scraped over the earth, drawing his arm high and swinging Tetsusaiga down, hissing out; "now I will put an end to your interference."

Kagome froze upon seeing the blast of golden energy skittering towards her like a fissure cleaving through the earth. She could vaguely hear Inuyasha shouting and feel him grabbing hold of her, but squeezed blue eyes shut. They were flung through the air- her head striking the earth soon after and causing everything to drain away into darkness.

---

Sesshoumaru grunted, hissing and lifting a hand to the back of his skull and feeling slight wetness. It was the same type of sensation that had scuffed his knees and hand, and bitten into his skin- so he did not intend to heed it. However… he could not stop staring at where the miko had fallen. She lay unconscious. Her dark hair looked slightly damp at the back of her head.

Inhaling, he caught the scent of blood.

No… it couldn't be.

Sesshoumaru stared.

Could it?

Taking a few steps closer, he frowned. He sought to scratch her skin, to see if there would be some sort of impact on his own body- but Inuyasha soon blocked his view of the woman.

"Leave her alone!"

Irritated, Sesshoumaru fought his brother, losing himself in scrapping until the subject of the miko was at the back of his mind for the time being.

Instead, he thought of the sword. It was his reason for being there, after all. Foolish girls in short garments with blazing, somewhat bewitching eyes were beneath his notice. Father's sword took precedence, always.

Striking his hand through his brother's chest, Sesshoumaru stiffened as Inuyasha took the opportunity to rip his artificial hand from his body- claiming the sword back. Even as the whelp bled out, he did not yield the blade.

Soon understanding that Tetsusaiga was beyond his reach now that the wounded, unconscious Inuyasha kept a death grip on it, Sesshoumaru gave a sigh of frustration.

Summoning clouds to his feet, he and Jaken ascended into the air and left the battlefield. As they flew, his thoughts inevitably began to stray back to the coincidence of his head hurting the same time the miko had been knocked out.

"Gah! Mi Lord!"

Sesshoumaru blinked and calmly shifted the parting of his silks open, baring his shoulder.

The stump of his left arm was currently ablaze.

"It burns at the joint!" Jaken fussed, gawking at the burning mortal arm Sesshoumaru had attached at Naraku's suggestion.

His brow twitched, lips thinning. "This wretched arm threatens to burn me alive," he stated lowly, grabbing it and ripping the limb away from him.

Sesshoumaru quietly decided Naraku would pay with his life for the offence.

---

Kagome gasped, crying out and clutching her left arm while sitting atop a youkai giving them transport. Miroku's friend, Hachi, had graciously given them a lift from the battlefield. Not again, damn it.

"Kagome, what's going on?" Shippo asked, putting his hand on her arm and quickly ripping it away. "Ah! Why's it feel hot?!"

Gritting her teeth, Kagome forced a wobbly smile even as what felt like flames licked at her flesh.

"I-I'm okay," she hissed.

Shippo eyed her with concern, but she could barely focus on him. The flames felt like they were a concentrated ring around her upper arm. Like she had a stump. It felt just like before, when Sesshoumaru's arm had been severed.

"Is everything alright?" Miroku weakly croaked from the front of the youkai, while Inuyasha lay silent, still passed out.

Concentrating on breathing while sweat dotted her brow, eventually, the pain subsided. "Really...it's fine," she mumbled.

Kagome was once again left in the dark on her situation.

---

The next time they faced one another, dread pooled in her stomach while vague intrigue sparked within his. Nonetheless, Sesshoumaru ignored it. He antagonised his whelp of a brother, sneering about his superior knowledge of the wind-scar technique mere moments before Inuyasha unlocked it.

And then Kagome lay screaming, her cries mingling with Sesshoumaru's as his form became consumed in pure golden light.

By the time she regained consciousness, Shippo had blabbed about the incident with Kagome's burning hot arm the last time they'd encountered Sesshoumaru.

Sitting up from the make-shift futon they'd placed her on outside, she looked between Sango, the new addition to their group, and Totosai. Both looked to be deep in thought, sounding the fire while sunset painted the sky in gentle, firey hues.

The proverbial cat was out of the bag.

"I-I'm fine. Nothing to get worked up over," Kagome squeaked in vain, waving her hands.

"Passing out for no reason isn't nothing," Sango gently chided.

Miroku hummed, stroking his chin. "Passing out makes it sound peaceful. What I saw was our dear friend screaming with agony and collapsing, almost like her brain couldn't take the amount of pain it was feeling and briefly shut down to save itself."

Inspecting Tetsusaiga, the old swordsmith clicked his tongue, bulbous eyes raising to Kagome. "And from what this old codger saw, Sesshoumaru was screaming at the same time. Funny that."

Wincing, she held her tongue. A thrill of unease and panic raced down the miko's spine. She hadn't wanted anyone to know about her weird connection with the demon lord.

Totosai rolled his shoulders, making a dusty grunt. "But what do I know? Probably seein' things."

"No…"

Of all people, Inuyasha spoke up. While frowning hard at the ground, white ears pressed down against his head. "This kind of thing has happened before. When I cut Sesshoumaru's arm off- Kagome, you were…"

Biting her lip, she opened her mouth to protest but Shippo beat her to it. "Ah, and it was Kagome's left arm that was burning hot when I touched it after Sesshoumaru fled from battle that one time Inuyasha got a hole in his chest! There must be a connection!"

This seemed to solidify everyone's opinions on the matter. Silently screaming, Kagome curled trembling fingers into the material of her skirt.

Inuyasha stood, walking away from the group.

Heart fluttering, the miko quickly rose and followed. She didn't exactly know how she felt about Inuyasha but at the very least a small crush had been blossoming in her chest. Sesshoumaru having any kind of link with her felt like a death sentence on their possible relationship! They'd had enough hurdles so far what with the resurrection of his ex-lover and wow…

Kagome stopped beside a stream, staring at Inuyasha's back.

It looked sturdy and strong, reliable. But a lot of evidence was starting to pile up for why she should wisely consider that back her friend and not something to wrap her arms around. This Sesshoumaru stuff is just one more thing in the way. If I keep trying to bridge the distance between us, I know I'm going to get exhausted. And Inuyasha...do you even want me to reach you?

White triangular ears twitched. Inuyasha glanced over one shoulder, scratching his cheek. "Listen, Kagome-"

"It's okay," she cut in softly. From the look in those golden eyes, it was easy to see he'd placed an invisible barrier between whatever they'd almost been. A line drawn in the sand.

"I'm gonna see if it's possible to break whatever connection that bastard has to you," Inuyasha muttered, curling his hands into fists. "But I've heard of somethin' like this before. This pain connection thing. I remember Myoga talkin' about it. If it's anything like what he said, then…"

"Then what?"

His ears lay flat. "I don't wanna talk about it anymore. It ain't that. It can't be that."

Kagome relented, deciding not to ask any more questions. Not if it meant seeing that torn, harrowed look in his eyes.

---

Despite not wanting to discuss it, Inuyasha had dragged the group around the country on a detour. It proved extremely irritating and difficult to find Myoga since he usually found them. Looking for him was like searching for a...well, flea in a haystack.

They happened upon some information on his whereabouts after some time and headed in the direction of a village. Upon reaching it, however, all plans for talking to the flea demon fled, Kagome whisked away by a wolf demon instead.

Derailed, any thoughts concerning Sesshoumaru's link with Kagome were abandoned until they happened upon the Daiyoukai again.

The rest of the group may have briefly forgotten but the miko hadn't.

During their time apart, a peculiar flicker had been warming her chest. She'd experienced it for herself when hugging Shippo and squeezing him tight, laughing at his jokes and ruffling his mess of wild red hair. Fondness. Cherishing something small.

Except this warm glow had been happening when Shippo wasn't around. The only conclusion Kagome could draw was that the flicker belonged to Sesshoumaru. His feelings, not hers. And they weren't that of pain or distress, but contentment.

Kagome panted, staring up at him.

Inuyasha had lost control of his demon blood, going on a murderous rampage and facing Sesshoumaru in a fight- but now he lay silent and still. Kagome's leg's had carried her forward, blind to everything. Throwing herself atop her unconscious friend and acting as a shield, Kagome now glared over her shoulder at the approaching Daiyoukai.

"Stay away, stupid!" She snarled, tears pricking her eyes. "Don't come any closer!"

The sword he held glinted, catching the light of afternoon sun. Her back remained open and vulnerable to attack. Sesshoumaru could easily cleave her in two in order to slay his brother. Kagome knew that, but she remained on all fours, braced in a protective stance.

He watched her for what felt like an eternity. Golden, inhuman hues, so much colder than Inuyasha's fierce gold eyes- slid over the fall of hair from her shoulders. They roved down her arched back, then travelled further still over the curve of her ass. Kagome stiffened, heat creeping up her neck.

What the hell is he doing?!

Her blue eyes hardened, fingers curling tighter around Tetsusaiga in one hand, the other in Inuyasha's robe. Sesshoumaru's cool stare seemed to crinkle, until she realised those eyes seemed to smile. Amused.

Since he didn't look like he planned to kill her, (a conclusion she wasn't so sure about) then there had to be some other reason. He didn't like her, didn't understand her. And that, she suspected, was why he watched her. He looked considering, briefly frustrated, before tilting his chin up and settling on 'haughty' as an emotion.

"If you wish to reverse the transformation, use Tetsusaiga."

Blue eyes snapped wide, breath freezing in her lungs. It was Kagome's turn to stare, heart swaying. He doesn't intend to kill?

An invisible thread tugged, wanting her to rise, to move closer- but Sango and Miroku quickly rushed between them.

"You could've killed him just now," Miroku questioned. "Tell me, why didn't you?"

Sesshoumaru's attention slid away. "I will slay him," he dismissed impassively. "Some other time. There is no point when he does not know himself," pivoting on one heel, he smoothly turned and began walking away.

Kagome peered between her friends, watching him go thoughtfully. It's almost like...he came here with the intention of helping Inuyasha.

Prin pricks tickled and scraped her palm. Jolting, her dazed attention locked on Sesshoumaru's single hand resting at his side- sharp claws imperceptibly twitching and dragging over calloused skin.

---

They met again one humid afternoon, golden with sun and rich with the smell of honeysuckle. It was an experience neither would share with another soul. Undocumented in even her diary.

Whether or not Kagome happening upon Sesshoumaru within the forest on her way to the village after briefly returning home had been a coincidence, she did not know. The timing seemed just a little too perfect to be happenstance.

He stood, a pure white figure save for the bloom of red patterning his shoulder like blood. Armour suspiciously absent. He seemed languid, not intense like the boys who'd sought her affections before- those loud, snarling, bickering wolf princes and hanyou's who talked of rescuing her like she were a maiden to be protected.

Between one moment and the next, he'd cornered her, the miko's back meeting a tree. Kagome snarled, fumbling with her bow, an arrow- anything- but Sesshoumaru knocked them aside. A firm hand locked on her chin, hot breath fanning over her parted lips and causing them to sweetly sting.

Twin pools of molten hues stared at her, a blaze of rich colour amidst the humble greens and browns of the forest.

"This one will never accept it. I refuse," he uttered, calm voice feeling like a physical caress of the inner thigh. She'd never been so close to him before, not since their first meeting when he'd curiously but intently asked 'what are you?'

Kagome resurfaced from her thoughts to hear; "A bratty miko cannot be my other half. My Soul Mate."

Her throat turned dry. "W-what?" Kagome grit her teeth. "No way is that what we are! Whatever this weird connection is between us, you can't call it something so...so romantic! I'm literally feeling your pain!"

Sesshoumaru tightened his grip, the heat from his body looming closer, pressing against her own. The luxurious silk felt rich and warm and exuded an intoxicating, complex concentrate of his scent, making her head reel.

"Hn, precisely. That is evidence of a mating link. Something belonging to demons. That you should be experiencing it is unthinkable-"

Kagome lurched her head and sank blunt teeth into the skin between his thumb and forefinger, squeaking as her own hand hurt. Snarling, Sesshoumaru ripped it free and tightly wound his arm around her, lifting the miko's feet from the ground- his own teeth biting down into the shell of her ear.

Yelping, she squirmed and growled, heart thundering. Unseen, golden eyes cracked slightly wider as he felt teeth close over his own ear.

His large frame eased forward, parting her legs so that they scrambled and hooked over his hips for purchase. For all the wrong reasons, excitement and heat churned in her abdomen, feeling pressure between her thighs. Or was that emotion his? She couldn't tell, but her body felt hot, burning wherever he touched.

"Let go!" She burst, breath shuddering. What the hell?

Pressing both hands against Sesshoumaru's silk covered chest, she tried to summon her powers. Unlike Kikyo however, brilliant, skilled, trained Kikyo, Kagome couldn't grasp her reiki with finesse. The teenager needed her bow, an arrow, something to follow the pathway of wood like a conductor and allow her power to spill forth. Directly burning demonic flesh with her hands wasn't something she knew how to do.

"Having trouble, miko?"

"Shut up," she sneered.

"Unsurprising that you remain untrained. A barbarian swinging a sword blindly would not take the time to polish a valuable asset in his group."

"Well it's no wonder Inuyasha doesn't know how to use it! From what I've heard, you didn't take the time to teach him either!" She got in his face, practically vibrating from fury. It didn't make her taller than him, and she regretted it instantly, as he caught her gaze and leaned in a little too close, aristocratic nose brushing her humble human one.

How had it gotten this far? How had her wanting to avoid him turned into him pinning her against a tree?

"Inuyasha is a blight upon my blood. Why would this Sesshoumaru train him?" He purred in soft, dulcet tones.

Kagome tried to move her head back- but her skull pressed against the rough bark. Her lips felt dry, aching. For some reason, her cheeks were burning with the need for contact, like two slits were pulsing on either side of her face.

"That's what it all comes down to, isn't it? That's why you're here. You're just frustrated," she muttered, fists pushing uselessly against his chest. "You hate this connection between us because I'm human. It's got nothing to do with me or the fact that I'm a miko," a smirk came to her mouth, fueled by bravado. "Must be humiliating, feeling my cuts and bruises. Does the mighty Sesshoumaru hate feeling so weak? So mortal."

Thin lips drew back, revealing fangs as he panted out a warm puff of air. "I remain largely unaffected by you, do not insult me with such a suggestion."

"A 'blight' isn't something you can just brush off," Kagome gritted out. "Since I'm not exactly thrilled by my connection to you either, let's just resolve to break whatever is pulling us together, deal? And while you're at it, maybe don't take your frustrations out on me, buster."

Sesshoumaru let out a low noise, but Kagome kept her eyes on his, refusing to give in to the instinctual urge to tilt her head to the side and allow him access to her neck, to cower. Instead, she glared, panting softly for no discernable reason as her heart hammered wildly.

He chuckled, softly, so warm against her. Golden eyes flashed.

And then he stepped back. He held her firmly, so that when her feet touched the ground again, it was feather-light. She had no scrapes or bruises, and yet felt rattled like she'd been roughly shaken.

"Very well. Something we can agree on is the utter ruination of this connection."

Kagome folded her arms, clearing her throat. "Right. If anything, you've demonstrated how completely wrong for each other we are. Ha! Soul mates...what a hoot," she muttered dryly.

"Indeed," Sesshoumaru's jaw ticked.

She felt her teeth ache from the action and thinkingly reached up to touch his cheek. "Stop gritting your teeth so hard-"

A low noise escaped into the air between them, having crooned out from none other than the demon lord. It was almost as if he froze her. Both her hand and her breath stopped for one awful heartbeat.

That hadn't been a noise of disgust.

Kagome stared. His cheek felt smooth under her palm. Touching him for a prolonged period of time felt surreal. A livewire ran down from the pads of her fingers, racing through her bloodstream and kickstarting her heart into overdrive. Her own cheeks blazed again, sweetly pulsing, and she realised they felt in her mind's eye just like Sesshoumaru's twin magenta stripes upon her face.

Sesshoumaru blinked, lifting his one remaining hand and tightly grasping her wrist. Her bone's protested and she grit her teeth. With his thumb resting over her pulse, she knew he could feel it fluttering.

"...There was a pain, many months ago now..." he uttered slowly, gentling his hold. "This one has not experienced anything of the like. As though I were being ripped apart."

Swallowing, she glanced away. "It wasn't as bad as your arm being cleaved off," she admitted.

"At least this one knew what was happening then- could identify the source of the pain. What was it that dug into the very fabric of your being and pulled a chunk loose?"

Kagome lifted her hand from his cheek slightly, curling shaking fingers into her palm. "There was an oni sorceress called Urasue. She...kind of split some of my soul and put it into a fake body, resurrecting someone and animating her. K-kikyo...Inuyasha's lost love. Turns out I'm her reincarnation, so it was kinda like a blood transfusion. Or maybe more accurately an organ donation- an unwilling organ transplant? A-anyway-" she shook her head. "I'm not entirely whole now."

The steel band of his grip loosened and fell away.

Golden eyes narrowed, not comprehending her talk of transferring blood or organs but understanding enough. If he were honest with himself, he'd been irritated ever since that day. A small, niggling sensation in the back of his head, seeking- feeling around for something in the dark. Now he understood why. He'd been looking for her missing piece, discontent with her fractured state.

"Hn," Sesshoumaru tilted his chin up to regard her with half-lidded eyes. "This one will find information on how to sever the soul bond. That will at least be one irritation out of your life. Unless of course...you'd like the other removed as well."

Kagome's eyes widened and her voice turned sharp. "What are you talking about? Don't hurt Kikyo!" she growled, confusion muddling her scent. Neither bridged the distance between them again yet they also did not move back.

"I-I don't get you," she muttered. "Why would you do that anyway? My soul isn't any of your business if you're about to cut off the connection between us."

"Indeed," he snipped, frowning slightly as though agreeing with her. Turning gracefully to stalk away, silver tresses fanned out behind him.

Kagome let out an aggravated noise, stamping her foot. "You didn't answer my question!" she yelled.

The Daiyoukai remained conveniently deaf to her observation, walking back into the greenery of the woods from whence he came. With every step, both registered their auras straining out to reach for the other. Kagome flushed red and quickly hurried away in the opposite direction, touching her burning mouth.

#sesskag #Sesshoumaru x Kagome #Sesshoumaru #Kagome Higurashi

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 4 years

Text

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 120

120

There were moments in life Lance sorely wished he could go back and change. There were moments he wished would last longer, and moment when he wished time would speed the hell up. A five way fussing was one of those moments. Rieva, Hunk, Curtis, Shiro and Keith. The four biggest worriers known to man kind, were now stressing him out to the point he was he was glad to be exhausted. Rieva fussed the moment they got home. Curtis fussed because he was Curtis. And Hunk fussed over the fact they needed to go food shopping thanks to the lack of fresh food in his fridge. A trip he wasn’t allowed on, left to watch as Keith was dragged away, trying to argue that he should stay with Lance. In a way, he didn’t want Keith to go, and in another way he hoped Hunk would be able to comfort his boyfriend.

Forced to sit on his sofa, he was snobbed by Blue, Blue instead meowing her discontent to Kosmo, who insisted she was something he needed to groom. The moment he was free of two worriers, Rieva was there putting his legs up and asking if she could get him anything. Curtis had kept his worry limited to worried looks directed at him. Lance still trying to process there was two “macaroons” in his stomach. Shiro seemed on edge, Keith may have slightly cried over the twins on the way home, assuring him he was “relieved” and “processing” and “not mad”. Kind of like a person would when they were the opposite of those things. Rieva fetching him a blanket and insisting he rested pit Curtis on guard. Lance not very good at keeping secrets as it seemed, snapping at his friend to “leave him because he was pregnant and not dying”. At least he didn’t spring it on them all it was twins.

Yeah. He’d put his foot in it. Curtis went into “Full Curtis Mode”, a blood bag brought to him, as well as going about checking he didn’t have a fever and that the blisters on his feet were indeed healed... By the time Keith and Hunk came back, Lance was buried under a pile of blankets on the sofa, trying to “nap out” his friends, unsuccessfully he might have due Curtis asking him what felt like a million questions over his “condition”. Of all the times he’d turned into a bat, now would have been the time to channel that feeling, only when he tried Curtis seemed to think he was in pain.

Things didn’t improve when Shiro went back to Platt. Keith lost the support and distraction of his brother, while Lance lost the will to go against them all. Fucking Keith had told them all how Lance needed fresh blood, then forced his hand into Lance’s mouth mid yawn. He was officially on a feeding schedule, Keith setting alarms on both his damn phones. Coran had said to rest, but how was he supposed to rest when the others were shoving love down his throat every waking moment? When the day of his next scan rolled around, his friends decided that they needed to head to Platt to be with them and support them. He hadn’t even had a moments peace to tell Mami it was twins. He’d called her, then got distracted filling her in on Keith’s birthday weekend. Mami wanting to hear from the birthday boy himself, leading to them having this whole other conversation with Keith hanging up on the end of it. His boyfriend seemed determined to be okay with it being twins, while Lance just wanted to wallow peacefully in his undeath.

And then Krolia happened. He done gone fucked up with that one.

Annoyed over all the fuss and feeling crowded when all he wanted to do was experience the scan with Keith, Krolia had word that they were there. Not bothering with knocking, the woman blinked when coming face to face with 6 pairs of blinking eyes. Lance so annoyed, exhausted, and desperate to pee, he kind of maybe blurred out “I’m fucking pregnant. Either you’re staying for the scan or you’re getting out”. Whelp. She stayed, before disappearing off with Keith, Curtis, and Shiro. Rieva would have stayed with him, if he hadn’t told her to go call Matt and Pidge. Everyone might as well bloody know. He had the major crank, and Coran was the only one who didn’t seem affected by it. No. He chuckled over Lance’s mood, and Lance had finally enough. Storming off to the bathroom, he was still there when Coran came to fetch him.

Sitting in the end toilet stall, Lance found himself crying again. Hearing the heartbeats made it all so real. He’d already gone through half a roll of toilet paper when Coran knocked lightly on the stall door. Sniffling loudly seemed enough of a “welcome” for Coran to let himself in, despite Lance being quite sure he’d locked the door

“Oh, my dear boy. There’s nothing to cry about”

“I can’t fucking stop”

Which he couldn’t. He’d gone and got fiercely attached to those two little lives inside of him

“Oh. Oh, my boy. Hey, everything will be okay”

Coran hugged him tightly. Lance not bothering with the fact he was still sitting on the toilet as he hugged Coran just as tightly in return. He had his pants on, that was the main thing

“I feel like I’m going insane”

“Nonsense. You’re nothing of the sort. You’re adjusting, and that’s okay. You’re okay”

“But I’m not. Coran... I don’t think I’m okay”

“Lance, you will be. Why don’t you and me have a talk of our own? Hey? Just the two of us, like we used to?”

Lance snotted on Coran’s jacket, nodding as he ugly cried against the man who’d pretty much been the family he’d always wanted

“Please? I wanted to talk last time... but... it’s hard finding any time I’m left alone”

“You’re not one for feeling smothered. I’ll make us a nice spot of tea. Here, we’ll go downstairs and find somewhere nice for a long talk”

“Keith...”

“Never mind Keith. You leave him to me”

“He worries too much”

“He’s in love. And you’re both going through a lot. One baby is one thing, two is another, but we’ll talk about it somewhere nicer”

Lance nodded again, letting himself be drawn up by Coran

“You’re okay, my sweet boy. You’re okay. One foot after the other and we’ll be there in no time”

It wasn’t like Lance forgot there were therapy rooms at VOLTRON. It simply wasn’t something he thought about seeing it’d been a long time since he’d been down there for counselling. With an agency as important as the one Coran ran, all sorts of people came to him for help on a regular basis. Everything from hunter to werewolves were safe inside his walls. Coran settled them down in a small office like the office they’d met in when he was younger. They hadn’t always been so close to Platt, but Coran had always been there when they’d needed help working out how to have a vampire in the family.

Curling up in the corner of the sofa, Lance watched as Coran went about making tea. The fae humming some kind of tune to himself as self consciousness set in. He shouldn’t have snapped at Krolia. Krolia was there to see her son. How could she possibly have known what she was walking in on? He’d just felt so smothered and like his personal preferences weren’t being respected. Yeah. People knew babies usually came from sex, but that was something he liked keeping private. Being pregnant kind of felt like screaming that he was “doing the do” to everyone in the space.

Bring the tray of tea over, Coran dropped himself down next to him. Close enough to be felt, but far away enough that Lance felt he could breathe

“Are you feeling better?”

Lance wiped at his eyes, sighing more to himself over his behaviour than Coran questions

“A bit. I know the others care but... I haven’t been... doing that great mentally and their care has been too much to cope with right now. I feel so lost and un-me. I don’t even remember what I used to feel like”

“Would you like to tell me more?”

Lance nodded, the tension that’d left him highly strung finally felt like it was disappearing

“I love Keith. I love him and I want the best for him... but he didn’t sign up for twins. Curtis won’t stop fussing. Rieva is too enthused and insists on taking care of me. Hunk accepted it too easily. I wanted Keith to talk to Krolia in private and be able to tell her himself, in his own words and in his own way. I’m not supposed to be here. Pidge is still in the moon boot. I spent Keith’s birthday weekend bouncing from one extreme to another and I feel like I’ve hurt everyone in my life by existing. Plus, I’ve hardly been acting my age. It’s like since I met Keith I’ve turned into an idiot. I’m doing and saying things I’ve never done or felt. I feel territorial and my ego gets so mad over the smallest things. I wanted to work on myself and grow my relationship with Keith, and I was really looking forward to feeling useful getting back into work, especially when we both know what this time of year can be like. I don’t want to drink fresh blood. It makes me feel so fucking ashamed for needing it like I’ve never needed it before, then everyone cops my cocky ego until I fall asleep because I don’t feel rested thanks to everyone trying to manage my life around me instead of asking me how or what they can do to actually be there. I love them all so much. I know their hearts are in the right place, and all of them are important to me, but I can’t help feel they’re all stuck in a war their not supposed to know about. Plus if they’re not trying to figure out how to help Curtis, Rieva is researching Lotor with Matt. She’s so shaken by him that I feel like I put her in danger by having her near me. I don’t know how to be a dad. I don’t know how to have a baby. I don’t know how to have two and when I look at Keith, I want to throw everything out the window and all I want to do is feel better so he can breath easier... and now I’m talking too much about me and I’m just being really selfish and stupid right now. I should know better. I used to know better... I just want everything to stop so I can finally catch up”

Coran pulled him into an uncomfortable hug. Mostly because he was trying to look Lance in the eye but his body didn’t really bend that way with the angle of the hug

“You’ve always over thought everything in life. I remember the little boy who cried for the people who gave blood because you thought they must have been hurt for their to be so much blood. I know this is a very difficult time for you. I let you down by not prioritising working on stabilising your body and developing a contraceptive sooner. In the last six months you’ve have your brother attempt to have your life taken, then finally learned how good it feels to be accepted by more than those who knew your secret and loved you anyway. I care for a lot of vampires, werewolves, and humans, but you my boy will always be special in my heart”

God... if Coran didn’t have all the right words no one did. He loved this man, despite his weirdness and extremes, and his lack of personal boundaries

“I know you’ve been struggling with your mental health, and issues you had in the past accepting yourself, and I know you let it get to the point where you exhaust yourself and need a dirt nap. I remember the first time you had a test in college. You called me up to ask for my advice. I felt so proud you’d come to me... I was so very proud to see you following your own path. But I also saw how your heart hardened when you finally realised you had to leave your friends behind. I saw how guarded you became. How scared of society you felt. That fear that Nyma and Rolo were out there. All of these things cut you deeply. More deeply than any quintessence manipulation could heal. But even when you hit these lows, and trust me, this is a blip in comparison for your first lot of final exams, you always pulled yourself back and gripped that ego of yours. You sheltered yourself away. You’ve lived without letting yourself truly live and experience because no matter how much we adore you, you feel you have no right to exist. But you have every single right”

Lance sniffled loudly, before mumbling softly

“I’m scared of me”

“I know you are. I wish I could tear that fear from you”

“I don’t think I like being able to turn into a bat. Or drinking fresh blood... or releasing pheromones. I lasted so long and I was okay with everything, but... I couldn’t let Keith die. He’s a human”

“You did a very brave and silly thing, but also a very you thing. How many vampires do you think would save the hunter their to kill them?”

“Some would...”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps they’d feed then let them die. You showed Keith a great kindness”

“He’s honestly amazing. He used to be so timid. He didn’t feel wanted or loved. He felt suffocated too... sometimes his love scares me. It scares me that he could burn out before his time... He’s so fucking smart... then he gets upset because he didn’t graduate high school and doesn’t have a lot of money. I would give him the world if I could, but I don’t want him to feel like... like I’m trying to buy his love with gifts. I want him to be truly happy, because I’m happy when I’m with him but I’ve been bringing him down by not being well”

Coran rubbed his arm, Lance closing his eyes. He almost felt lulled, akin to the way Mami would rock him after he’d wake up screaming. She’d hold him tight. Her scent and warm skin against his cool body. Softly she’d rock him as she sung to him, reassuring him was loved

“It isn’t uncommon at all for the partner to feel guilt while watching their pregnant partner adjust. Keith would take it all on himself if he could”

“He’s still working out how to be accept that I’m not going to die, again. I just want him to accept he can’t fix this in any other way than existing”

“He carries a great number of wounds to his soul. He’s been left behind by the ones he loved. Perhaps counselling will help?”

Keith had to be ready. He’d come so far with being able to socialise that Lance was beyond proud. He loved when Keith talked in their group chat, or he’d make Lance wait a moment because he was replying to Pidge or Hunk.

“I think he’s ready to reconnect with Krolia, or make that really big step. I disrespected his feeling by telling Krolia... I’m tired of being fussed over. I barely feel rested because I drift off suddenly only to be woken up again, or I can’t switch my head off enough to sleep properly. I know you weren’t trying to hurt me on Monday, but I’ve been trying. I swear I’ve been trying to eat more and keep it down”

“I’m sorry. I was very much alarmed that you’d be dehydrated, and so ill. That and I was perhaps being a tad overbearing because you mean so much to me”

“I don’t know what to do. Keith and I are having twins, and I still feel like I need to work on me. I was struggling with my mental health a lot. Having a boyfriend is amazing, but the anxiety... I want to work out that balance between everything. I had it clear before. Mami. Pidge. Hunk. Blue. You and Allura. Work. Keeping Pidge and Hunk safe. Everything was defined”

“Everything was defined, and I know you were happy, but life can’t always be easily defined. Should I see about getting you a room to rest in here?”

That sounded amazing. Guilt bloomed at how good that sounded. Fuck... He was smart dumb. If he’d set an IV line up he could have slept and ate at the same time

“Everyone will worry”

“I am asking what you would like?”

“Keith would want to stay by my side”

He would. He couldn’t make this decision alone. It wasn’t fair on any of their group if he was making decisions that seemed to disregard the thoughts and feelings of others

“I think perhaps Keith also requires rest, and you two need to go have a hard talk. He will not be offended if you are honest with him”

“I know. I also love isn’t telling your partner what you think will keep the mood and happiness between you stable. That’s not a real relationship. I know I can tell him anything, but I know I feel so mixed up right now that I want to understand myself before I do explain... but... I also want to tell him everything and have him help me figure it out too, because we make a good team when we’re working together... then I feel like it’s my ego, and that I’m being selfish for wanting to have an honest conversation with him when I know he’s going to work out the answers for me before I do”

He missed the before. Before he felt so sick. He knew the symptoms would abate, but that was further down, and it’s not like he could make up for the now

“There’s nothing wrong with relying on Keith. He’d love to help you work through things. I’ve seen you both do so along the journey this relationship has taken, and I am confident you will get through this. I’ll have a bed readied. You may rest here as long as you need. I was going to ask if perhaps you and your friends would spend the night here for Halloween. For safety. I am not saying Sendak will make a move, but I felt perhaps they’d feel better knowing they’d have a safe place”

“What about Lotor?”

“Pish-Posh. He does not scare me. Not anymore, though I do worry for Allura. She’s making Lotor work on bettering himself. The incident with the opera was the last metaphoric straw. She’s bossed him into actively assisting the Blades, though he won’t hand over Sendak’s primary location. It is quite amusing to watch him humble himself before her”

“Allura is a queen. She’s amazing. Lotor should be grateful to kiss her boots”

Coran chuckled

“She is my pride and joy. The pair of you are. I love you as if you were my own”

“I love you too, Coran. I’m sorry I’m not... well, I’m not doing that good”

“You don’t need to apologise. Recognising something is wrong is a major step in making things right. You’ve always been more accepting of others than yourself. Now, let’s enjoy our tea, then we’ll have a nice break before finding our Keith and sitting down with him”

“Thanks for listening”

“Any time my boy. My phone has been awfully lonely without your calls”

“I know... I’m always getting caught up something or sleeping. It’s frustrating”

“Better than three months making grave soil?”

“I don’t know, at least I’d be able to sleep all I wanted”

Coran chuckled again

“You’ll be just fine, my boy”

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #ashratherose

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tirednotflirting · 5 years

Text

sleepyhead - c.h.

right now i’m a few glasses of wine in and i’ve finally got the guts to post fic for the first time ever so here is a lil blurb thing i wrote in between studying for different finals last week when thinking of soft morning cal was distracting me from primate anatomy.

word count: ~1.9k

she woke up to the smell of cigarette smoke tickling at her nose. after a second breath, she caught a whiff of fresh coffee and rain on the brick walls of her building. knowing he must be out on the covered balcony, she listened closely for the sound of rain, wondering if it had stopped yet, and also picked up his quiet humming of a song she couldn’t quite figure out. a slight breeze blew into the room, causing her to pull the thick comforter up from where it rested at her waist and let her eyes finally flutter open as thoughts of sleeping later drifted off.

the room was dark for 9am, she observed after rolling over to grab her phone and seeing the time. her weather app told her that the storm was to continue well into the evening so if his plans for the day had included anything outside, they would likely need to be put on hold. she lifted her body from the mattress and finally caught sight of him out on the patio, the half-opened door giving her a view of him sipping from his favorite mug with the same hand that held his cigarette as he wrote something in a journal resting against the small glass table she had bought during the summer.

“your balcony has a nice view,” he had said one afternoon in june, soon after they had become friends who actively sought out each other’s company rather than waiting for the next time the world brought them together through mutual friends. “you should get a table out here when you’re more settled, would be a great morning coffee with a book spot.” she bought the table after he mentioned it a second time.

she thought of their initial meeting one another earlier in the year as she glanced up to check on him every couple of minutes as she went through her school inbox on her phone.

it was a grad party back in may for lianna, a friend a couple years her senior. it was out on some trendy rooftop place downtown her parents had rented out. lianna was the kind of girl who knew every kind of person, including the girlfriend of a drummer called ashton irwin. the couple had come along and brought with them ashton’s bandmate, calum. they blended in well with the ucla media studies crowd in their dress and overall low key attitude to the lights and sparkles and fruity drinks that came with downtown la in late spring.

she was a photography major and had met lianna when she got approval to take a senior level course that spring, despite only being a sophomore. she got on well with everyone at the party, all of them being her (now former) classmates and her face was growing achy with how much she was smiling as everyone told her their postgrad plans. she had been taking a social break and was standing at the bar, trying to flag down the bartender, her short stature failing her at that moment. she felt a presence to her left as she huffed in frustration, along with a deep “need some help?”. she turned and saw a man that she remembered recognizing when she had seen him walk in with a gorgeous couple earlier in the night. he was in a band, plays bass, lianna had told her over the tops of their wine glasses. he’s australian, and has a very cute dog, had also been added by the tall red-haired girl.

“yeah, thanks. guess he can’t hear me,” she replied, a tired smile returning to her face. a similar one spread across the curly-haired boy’s lips. “what are you drinking?” he asked, looking down to her as his hand lifted to grab the attention of the bartender, who immediately noticed the man. she took a moment before answering to admire the tattoos that she could see dancing across his forearm as his rolled sleeve pushed up to his elbow.

“the rosé.”

he lifted his chin in a short nod and recited the order as well as his own to the bartender. she pulled herself up into one of the stools at the bar to give her heeled feet a rest and to reduce at least a little bit of the difference in height between herself and the man.

“i’m calum,” he introduced himself, reaching a tattooed hand out into the somewhat limited space between the two of them.

“bennie,” she smiled lazily, her smaller hand accepting his as a glass of pink wine is placed beside her.

she set her phone back to charge and finally pushes back the covers. she reaches to the floor at the end of her bed to pick up a cardigan to throw on over the t-shirt she stole from him to wear when he got in the night before. he would always tease her for taking one of his ratty band t-shirts every time he ended up at her place after the airport rather than his own but never enough for her to toss it back in his duffle.

california in winter could just barely be called that, but the storm was bringing through something they would all call a cold front. he looks up from his writing as he hears her bare feet padding closer to the open door and gently shuts the leather journal, his pen marking his place.

he takes another drag of the cigarette, turning towards the street to blow away the smoke. “lovely weather we’re having today, huh?”

she scoffs at his sarcasm as she pulls out the seat across from him. “la is so happy to have you home that the whole city is crying tears of joy.”

“hush, ben.” he rolls his eyes but smirks nonetheless at her words.

he takes a moment to admire the girl that’s come to be one his best friends as she reaches forward to pour coffee from the French press he had made into a second mug. sleep had pulled most of her hair from the braid she had done up when they were eating pasta in the kitchen the night before. her eyes were dark around the edges due to the college-student style of exhaustion she always seemed to be and the eyeliner she had claimed she didn’t really need to wash away before bed. seeing her in his clothes made him feel warm in a way he didn’t really understand but always pushed away the thought of.

“ah, you’re right.” she says after a sighing as she takes her first sip from her mug. “she’s actually crying because you’re leaving again in a few days.”

the smile on his face drops as he reaches a foot out to tap against her leg. “hey now, yes i’ll be leaving but then you’re down for that party in the city for new years, right?”

she’s already down to the bottom of her mug (the French press was doing a shit job at retaining any heat and she was going to need to just go back into the kitchen and make more). “if you’ll still have me, yeah. which i hope you will because i’ve definitely already bought the flight.”

“bennie, you were supposed to let me get that.” he says to her with furrowed brows, a small pout forming.

she stands and holds a hand out for his mug so she can go in and make a second cup for the both of them. “okay, well you already got me a room and since your label are the ones hosting the party, you’re basically paying for all my drinks too. so i-“

“it was gonna be your Christmas present, love.” he sighs, handing his mug over.

“the room can be the prese-“

“bennie,” he cuts her off and places a hand at her hip to stop her as she tries to scoot around him to get back inside for coffee and to get away from the conversation. she looks down at where his chipped black polished fingers are placed. “just wanna be able to do something nice for you. i know you worked your ass off this semester and that you’re avoiding the fam for the holiday so i just wanted to treat you.”

she studies the mugs in her hands to avoid his gaze. calum turns his chair to face her so he can wrap both arms around her waist. she huffs and sets the mugs down on the table, letting her hands fall to his shoulders as she looks down to his patient brown eyes.

she takes a deep breath as she moves one hand to the back of his neck, her fingers twirling around the curls there. “and i appreciate it. and i’ve been feeling all warm and fuzzy ever since you asked me to join for this. i think i just convinced myself that letting you do too much for me would make it seem like i was taking advantage. don’t ever want you to feel that way about me.”

his bottom lip juts out further after hearing her think that he could ever even for a moment have some kind of ill opinion of her. “wouldn’t dream of thinking that, darling. i invited you to a party clear across the country, just wanted to make sure you were taken care of.”

she feels something flutter inside her when he calls her by pet names and talks about taking care of her but she pushes the thought away. “we should talk more when planning, huh?”

he laughs and shakes his head at her as he opens his legs so she can stand between them as he pulls her closer, his arms moving to wrap more fully around her waist. he lets his head fall against her stomach. “i’m still exhausted.”

she runs a hand through his hair. “it’s called jet lag, ace. go get back in bed. let’s finish the season of peaky blinders we fell asleep in the middle of last night and then we can go pick up duke.”

he hummed his agreement with the plan for the rest of the morning before turning his head to place a kiss to the inside of bennie’s wrist. as she wanders past him, mugs and french press gathered into her arms, he puts out the last of his cigarette in the ashtray he brought over after she yelled at him for using one of her favorite mugs for the purpose. she’s already back in the kitchen, filling the kettle before setting it back on the stove and digging through her cabinets for the dark roast she’s decided she wants to make for her second cup of the day.

she comes back to her room several minutes later with two steamy mugs to find calum asleep again, her pillow tucked against his chest. she could almost coo at him cuddled under the blanket, chapped lips pouted out as he softly snores. she chuckles quietly to herself as she sets the mugs on her desk before gently climbing back into bed and pulling the pillow away from his arms. it’s only now that she notices the door is still open, the rain still falling at a steady pace and the breeze sneaking its way across the room. as she lays her head against the pillow that now smells of whatever new cologne he picked up on the road, an arm reaches over her body, pulling her against his warm chest.

“thanks, love,” are the last words she hears before letting her tired eyes drift shut.

~~~~~

thnx for reading if you did and come say hello (i like new pals) and lemme know if i should ever give this kinda thing a shot again. happy saturday !

#calum hood #calum hood blurb #calum hood blurbs #5sos blurb #5sos blurbs #calum fic #5sos fic #calum hood fic #calum hood fanfic #my writing #i don't know how to use tags so this is wine induced blind guessing #this seems like enough #maybe too many #alright byyyyyye

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dragonindigo245 · 5 years

Text

The Coldest of Hearts

Tags: N/A

Warnings: Death, angst, sympathetic Dark Sides, Unsympathetic Light Sides, cursing

Summary is this post I based the whole story off of.

——————

Gone. Gone. GONE. GONE.

No... nonono...

Why? How? It can't be.

Dee was here the whole time.

Please no... not my only friend. Please.

Dee was gone from his spot on the "bed". He couldn't have gotten up and left. He was hibernating. Snakes do that.

No! Please! I'll do anything!

He wouldn't have been taken. The Light Sides didn't want him. This only means he... he...

He can't be dead. I tried so hard! He seemed fine last night!

No. Nononono... My fault... it's my fault... I can't...

"Dee! Dee please... no... you can't be gone. You're all I had left... have left."

Finally the tears started sliding down my face. The wind picking up didn't help their freezing touch.

He CANNOT be dead!

No. He isn't dead. He's... he must be somewhere out in the storm. Has to be. That's it.

I picked myself up, feeling the weight of grief try and push me down. No. He's out in the storm. He will be there. I rushed outside of our broken down tower and into the snow.

Has to be. Has to be. Has to be. He has to be.

~~~

The Dark Sides never lived in a fancy place. They always lived on the opposite side of the imagination, miles upon miles away from their light counterparts. It was always dark and cold. It was 'fitting' for them according to Roman. It was so cold Deceit's snake tendencies kept him asleep most of the time. The others never blamed Deceit for it though, he had no control over it. Remus tried to build the others buildings and such, but they never seemed to stand. Only half of creativity Remus got from Roman was the bad stuff. The others lived in the ruins of the castle Remus so desperately tried to create. They lived in awful conditions, often hungry. They relied on the Duke to conjure food but because of the limits he had, it took so much energy to create a single crumb that wasn't poisonous, coming to life, or something far worse.

Then in the harsh winter Virgil left. Offered a place among the light and took it up without batting an eye. Remus had to tell Deceit what happened once the spring allowed Deceit to stay awake enough. In a fit of rage Deceit revealed himself to Thomas. He even let Remus make an appearance. It was futile though, for it simply blew over in a few weeks. Remus and Deceit went back to solitude. They tried to ask for access into the castle but they were rejected. Fall came around and Deceit was near hibernation. He tried to keep himself awake, mostly out of fear Remus would leave. Eventually he passed out.

Remus didn't though. He only left to gather recourses because he couldn't make them. He stayed with Deceit all the way until Christmas, huddled under animal furs and dead leaves he collected.

~~~

I ran as fast as he could, covering the entire forest screaming out Deceits name. I went to every hiding place he knew, I scanned every treetop. Nothing.

He's dead.

No. I can't think like that. Maybe... maybe I missed him somewhere. I started walking towards 'home'. Maybe Dee found his way back.

Thud.

I tripped over a rock hidden in the snow. The white fluff thankfully cushioned me enough I hadn't even felt it. The snow was... quite comfortable. I was exhausted after running everywhere.

STOP! GET UP!

I wanted to. I would most certainly die if I slept out here. My body would not abide however. The snow had already started weighing me down like a weighted blanket.

NO! I HAVE TO FIND DEE!

Dee... I have to find him. I have to. He...

He's dead. My best friend is dead.

I closed my eyes and sobbed in agony. My best friend... my only friend... was dead. Gone. I have nothing... no one left.

"I'm... so sorry... D-Dee..."

~~~

Christmas Eve was spent like any other day. Remus hummed Christmas music while Deceit slept. It was an alright day... for their circumstances anyways. What Remus didn't expect was to get to the chorus of "Silent Night" and have Virgil enter their doorway. He was buried in warm clothing... gosh Remus felt jealous of that. Remus simply smiled and waved in place of this though. "Virgil! Hey buddy! Fancy a visit?" Virgil laughed and sat down in front of Remus. "You could say that. Merry Christmas Dukey. I have a gift for ya." Remus grin grew, this time along with his spirits. "Ooo a gift? What is it?!? What is it??? Tell meeeeee!" Virgil shook his head. "Calm down. Anyways... I convinced the Sides to let you stay with us. Despite how demented you are, you are honest and could be of use." Remus sat as if he had been struck by something. "W-What? We... we could really... we could seriously stay with you guys?" Virgil held up a hand. "Yeah sure you can. Deceit can't though. It's not like he's anything but evil ya know? Besides, he's using you and sleeps to much to do any good. Anyways there's plenty of food so you won't go hungry and I'm sure everyone will love ya, especially Patton. Oh and-" "No." Virgil stopped confused. "No what? I mean it's fine if you don't want affection. We won't judge ya." Remus held Deceit closer to him. "No I won't be going without Deceit. He would never use me. You should've seen how heartbroken he was when you left. You... he is my best friend. He's family. Either we both go or none of us do." Virgil glared at Remus. "He's DECEPTION! He doesn't care about anyone!" "He cares about me and I sure as hell care about him. If you came here to insult Deceit and tempt me like an actual snake then I suggest you leave. N o w."

Virgil left and Roman came in his place a few hours later. Roman yelled at Remus for being a failure. He couldn't do anything to help anyone, he leaves Deceit to die and freeze alone, he can't even help himself. Even after Remus chased Roman off, he couldn't chase off the words that stuck with him. He fell asleep that night with the guilt clouding his mind. It didn't help he woke up with Deceits' disappearance.

~~~

I opened my eyes to find myself on a couch. Panic flared in me. Light sides... their home... Remus... what the hell happened when I was asleep? Roman was at the other end and looked up. "Crap. Remus still isn't here and you're awake already." He sighed and held a hand out. "I'm gonna need you to do something right for once in your life and stay on the couch." I pulled my cape tighter around myself and glared at Roman. "Why? I totally trust you. Why am I here and where's Remus?" Roman shrugged. "I dono. Virge and I brought you here so Remus would come to us. It's been around a day though so maybe Remus didn't bother or something." I immediately flung up from the couch and bust through the front entrance despite the protests being thrown at me.

Crap. Remus must be terrified.

I ran trough the cold despite its whispers to go back to sleep. I could NOT rest now. If there was any time to not sleep, this was it. I almost got back to the house before I tripped over a lump in the snow. It wasn't hard like a rock however, more of an animal. I brushed the top layer of snow off and found something black. No... oh no. This wasn't a good sign. Adrenaline filled my veins as I quickly brushed Remus off. He wasn't moving. He wasn't moving! His face was full of tears and distraught. That idiot ran out to find me. Why? Why would he...

My thoughts cut off. I was unable to think besides repeating pleas internally for Remus to get up. I wrapped my arms around him and cradled him. His pulse was non existent. His heart wasn't pumping. He wasn't alive anymore, he hadn't been for hours. All I could do was sob loudly and scream. He deserved so much better.

I only stopped crying once my body remembered I couldn't live if I stayed huddled in the middle of the frozen forest. I stood up with Remus head close to my chest and turned to head back home but immediately walked the opposite direction. No. They were going to see what they had done. Nobody deserved this, especially Remus. I didn't bother knocking when I arrived. I kicked down the door so it fell over. Good, all the sides and... Oh god. Thomas.

Roman immediately stood up and drew his sword while the rest tensed up. "DECEIT! What is the-" I cut him off quickly. "REMUS IS DEAD AND ALL OF YOU ARE GOING TO ANSWER FOR IT! WE LIVED OUR ENTIRE LIVES, BARELY SCRAPING BY AND LIKE HELL I'M GOING TO LET YOU PARTY IT UP WHILE I BURY HIM!!! WE SHOULD HAVE STOOD UP TO YOU WHILE WE STILL HAD THE CHANCE!"

Thomas immediately flew over the back of the couch and rushed to my side in shock. The sides were pale in the face. Good. Thomas sputtered for a second and turned around to the others. "What... What's going on? I don't... I don't understand." Thomas turned around to my likely pathetic figure. "Deceit. What happened? Is Remus really... you know?" I just nodded out of the fear that if I did speak, it would lead to me being a sobbing mess.

Thomas looked down at The Duke. Something in Thomas seemed to jerk when he saw Remus face of anguish. Thomas was finally listening to me. I would have leapt for joy if the circumstances were better. I was snapped out of my thoughts when Thomas placed a hand against the snake half of my face. He flashed a smile and whipped away the stream of tears. "It'll be okay... I promise." In that moment I didn't bother to check if that was a lie or not. All I needed was that reassurance for now. Thomas turned around enraged. Finally. "Any one of you four care to explain?"

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illyrianwingspans · 4 years

Text

Do Not Go Gentle: Buzzcut Season

Link to song: Buzzcut Season by Lorde (my other absolute fave)

Synopsis: The history of Hybern and Night Industries.

Ao3 Link

Chapter 17: Buzzcut Season

War.

The word echoed in my mind, and all I could see was his face twisted into that vicious snarl of his.

“Please,” I breathed, “Don’t do it. Not for me. It’s not worth it. He’s not worth it.”

“What are you talking about?” Rhys demanded, his eyes full of concern and confusion. When he finally understood the fear in my eyes, the trembling of my fingers, he shook his head. “No, Feyre—not with Tamlin. Not with Spring Corporations.”

I flinched at the sound of his name.

Rhys sighed, then gently took me by the elbow and lead me over to the couch. It was directly in front of the map I’d seen before. Rhys wandered over to the coffee counter, and I heard the whirring of a machine. He spoke over the noise.

“Spring Corporations, for the last six months, has been working with Hybern and Co to import and sell Cauldron. C’s made their way into Prythian’s black market about three years ago, and since then can be found at nearly every party, frat house, club or back alley. They are all anyone wants right now, and the price they go for has never been higher. Hybern and Spring have been profiting big time off of these druggies. But they can’t maintain their supply anymore.”

“Why?” The world of drugs and illegalities still confused me to high hell, but Rhys remained calm and focused. He strode over from the coffee bar with two mugs in his hands, and handed me one. The smell was peppermint, and one sip of it had my stomach calm. He sat beside me, hands wandering over the map.

“This, here, are the ports. They used to import everything and operate out of here, the warehouse. That’s where I had my guys working to deliver them.”

“Wait, wait, how did you get caught up in this?”

“I’ll explain after. Anyways, we used to distribute from here to our dealers. But now, they can’t import anymore. They were caught with some misdealing at the border, and now they have no incoming supply. So they need a new facility to start producing here, in Prythian.”

“Okay, but what’s the issue then?”

Rhys sighed. He took another marker, then circled the mountains and territories north of Prythian, Illyria. “He’s looking at buying the reserve.”

My mouth fell open, and I immediately blurted, “Hybern can’t do that. That’s protected land. That’s their land.”

“I know,” Rhys sighed and fell back against the couch. “But this city has an asshole of a mayor in charge who doesn’t quite care as long as there’s money in his pocket.”

My brows furrowed. “He can’t do that.” I repeated, furious. I didn’t know much about Illyria, but I knew that their people, the Illyrians—they’d been there for hundreds of years. They were native to this land before Prythian was colonized, before the city had a skyline at all.

“He can, and he’s trying. The land, though they claim is protected, is under city jurisdiction. No matter what we do, feds aren’t getting involved because it’s not federally owned. It’s up to the mayor and the people to decide. And as you know, the Illyrians aren’t very popular amongst city people.”

It was true. They had a reputation for their coldness, and were known only for their cheap gas prices and bars.

“For years my people have been marginalized. They have no voice, no means to make a living. We’ve been demanding for better government infrastructure, for healthcare, for schools, but the only thing that seems to be opening up are more bars and liquor stores.” His eyes closed. “My people have been suffering. The homicide rates, the suicide rates—they’re six times higher in their territories than here.”

For a few moments, we were quiet. I only looked down at the map, disdainful that I’d never been told of the suffering lingering just beyond the city limits.

“If they buy that land, their homes will be destroyed. But that’s not all—they’ll employ those people. They’ll give them a pittance of a salary for menial work, and three quarters of them will be addicted to C’s before the first month of production is over.” He glanced at me sidelong, the usual spark in his features gone. “My people will only suffer more than they already have.”

I shook my head, eyes still focused on the map. “So what are you doing?” I wondered. “What can I do?”

Rhys hesitated for a moment, then said, “You seriously want to work with us?”

I thought it over for a moment, and realized quickly that I hadn’t been so passionate about something in… in years. I��d loved my job at Hum’s. It was something to do. Something to make the days go by without submitting completely to the numbness filling my bones. But this…working with my friends, trying to destroy the people who had ruined my life…

“You need to tell me how you got involved with Hybern, though. I want to know the whole story. I want to know what exactly it is you all do in this building before signing anything.”

Rhys looked to me for a few moments before saying, “Night Industries works security. Exactly like I explained to you: security detail, cybersecurity, infrastructure security, we do it all. We have real estate holdings, we have hundreds of investment projects. But security is our main focus.”

“Why?”

At that, Rhys smirked. “Because no one thinks the people that are protecting them actually listen in.”

“And by that you mean…?”

“Information, Feyre, costs more than any currency you can imagine. Secrets are worth more than a hundred kilograms of gold. Because they are leverage. Insight. A way into your enemy’s mind, the thread you pull for the fabric to fall apart completely. Nobody thinks the security guard in the front of the limo is listening in on their conversations about sly deals. Nobody thinks their security software is actually reporting back to the manufacturer whenever a new file is uploaded. Nobody thinks the guard at the museum party is noticing who walks into the bathroom with a married man for a quick fuck.”

I sat back for a moment, trying to process everything he was telling me.

“I first caught wind of Hybern’s dealings because I was the one who worked his security detail when he first came to Prythian. As soon as my people reported back, I realized that I was sitting on one of the biggest drug operations to ever enter Prythian. Days later I was in Hybern and Co’s office, speaking to Mr. Hybern himself, proposing a business plan for his future dealings here.”

“Why did you help him?”

“It’s easier to know your enemy by being their friend. But back then, I was stupid. I moved too fast. Before I knew it my guys were in the streets practically dealing the stuff themselves. By then I knew I was in too deep, and I tried to back out as quickly as possible. But they had me by the balls. Bookkeeping on which my name wouldn’t be erased if it ever came to light. Irrefutable incriminating evidence that would flush my life and my business down the drain.”

“How did you get out finally?”

At that, Rhys’s face completely shut down. He only said, “By chance. I saw my opportunity and got the fuck out of dodge.”

By the sound of his voice, I knew not to push him. I only said, “I’m in.”

The storm in his eyes cleared up at the words. “What?”

“Whatever it is, I’m in. I’ll do it.”

“Feyre,” Rhys said quietly, “take some time to think it over. It doesn’t have to be right away.”

“What would my position be?”

“For starters, you’d be my personal assistant. That office out there would be for you.”

“I have very limited experience working in offices.” I never wanted to think about that janitor’s closet ever again.

“I know,” Rhys hedged, “and it won’t be like that at all. We’ll start you off slow, get you used to our systems, help you work your way up. Cerridwen, Azriel’s assistant, will show you all the ropes. We’ll start you off on half-days and work you up from there. If ever you feel sick, tired, anything—you have the day off, no questions asked.”

I eyed him nervously. I couldn’t believe, in the course of two weeks, I had gone from Spring Corporations straight to their enemy, ready to accept a job offer two days after nearly ending it all.

“Like I said, take your time, Feyre.” Rhys said softly. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I’ll think about it.” I promised. “Over dinner tonight.” I added.

“Jesus Christ, I hoped you forgot.”

***

When we got home, I took a nap while Rhys cleaned up the main floor. He’d turned it into his office while he was working from home, despite the fact that he had a perfectly usable office upstairs. He said it was ‘too dark’ (despite the wall of windows it had), and I knew full well it was just because he wanted to keep an eye on me while I lounged on his couch reading and watching TV. As though I would try to suffocate myself to death with a pillow.

My alarm went off at seven, and I dragged myself to the bathroom to make myself look presentable. I donned some of the nicer clothes Mor had bought me, just jeans and a t-shirt, but each were soft and expensive looking, that made the guilt within me fester even more. For the first time in a while, I looked at myself in the mirror, and was terrified of the face who stared back.

I hadn’t noticed the thinness in my face until my cheeks had hollowed out and my skin was pale and white. My hair had begun falling out a while ago, coming out in heaps of strands in the shower, and it’d lost any traces of shine and glimmer that it originally held. Not to mention, my waist had thinned out as well, and my ribcage stood out starkly against my skin. The t-shirt, thank the Gods, was loose. All I had the energy to do was run a comb through my messy hair, brush my teeth and splash some water on my face. Though it wasn’t much of an improvement from before, at least it was something.

Downstairs, Rhys had cleaned up most of his mess, leaving behind only his computer on the corner of the coffee table before the TV. In the kitchen, the counter was clean, and something smelled glorious as the sounds of kernels popping emanated from the microwave.

“Popcorn?” Rhys wondered as he pulled the bag out and dumped the contents into a bowl. I nodded my head and pecked at a few kernels. My stomach, thankfully, did not protest at the buttery taste across my tongue.

At the edge of island were two games stacked atop one another: Pictionary and Monopoly. I raised my brows.

“My family takes game night very, very seriously. It doesn’t happen often. When it does, I always have to buy a new table.”

“A new table?”

The doorbell rang, and a look of misery overcame Rhys’s face. “Because someone always ends up flipping it.”

I stayed in the kitchen while Rhys wandered unhurriedly to the front entrance. Once the door opened, it was instant chaos that overtook the household. There was so much noise and voices that I could barely decipher who had walked in the door, only the fact that someone had wrapped in their arms. Cassian’s comforting scent enveloped me, and I sighed as I hugged him back, missing his cheerful spirit.

“Feyre! You could’ve at least given me some rent money before you left.”

I forced the best chuckle I could as he released me, and his full, toothy smile shined above me. Before I could even say anything his hand was already reaching for the popcorn. I guess Rhys hadn’t said much about my abrupt move out of his apartment, and I wasn’t sure if I preferred it that way.

A low voice sounded from behind me, “We brought pizza. Mor requested banana chilis, I’m sorry.” Azriel nodded to me, and I gave him my best impression of a grin. It didn’t work.

“It’s like you’re trying to burn off my tastebuds.” Cassian whined. Mor was already moving around the kitchen like a hurricane, plucking wine glasses from Rhys’s cabinets and pulling a bottle of rosé from her purse. She only replied to Cassian, “You’re one of the only ones here with an inkling of culture, honey. Your tastebuds should be adapted to spice by now.”

“I’m going to ignore that slightly racist comment. And remind you that you and Feyre are the minorities in this party.”

“Do you have anything strong, Rhys? I don’t know why they keep inviting me to these.” Amren commented. She’d already taken up a spot sitting on the kitchen counter. By the lack of looks she was getting, I guessed that was her usual seat.

“You’re the one that keeps showing up, Amren. Nobody’s forcing you.” Cassian argued.

Amren quipped, “You parked in front of my apartment building and threatened to honk all night until I got in with you. I don’t want a public disturbance added to my criminal record.”

Added? was all I could think to myself as Rhys pulled out a bottle of vodka. Amren smiled—well, smile was the best word for it, it was more like a wolf bearing its teeth. He poured her a knuckle’s length, and she knocked it back in one gulp. Rhys took one look at her and the bottle, then left it there for her on the counter. She poured herself another then kept it next to her, like a dragon guarding its trove.

“I know you don’t like talking about work at home, but I have to tell you one thing.” Azriel said.

Mor and Cassian both rolled their eyes at the same time (Mor tried to claim jinx, but Cassian refuted you can’t jinx something non-verbal). Rhys, though, was at full attention. In his hands was a glass of what looked like scotch. Suriel’s words kept playing in my mind, but I was thirsty—and a glass of wine wouldn’t hurt. Just something to ease me into this new dynamic. I stood and went to the pantry and grabbed a glass, then went to the fridge where I knew Rhys kept his stash of white wine.

Behind me, Azriel asked, “Do you trust her?”

The room was silent, save the sound of the wine pouring into my glass. Quietly, I put the cap on the bottle, then slid it back into the fridge side door. When I turned, five sets of eyes were turned to me. I only took a sip of my drink, then looked to Rhys.

“Do you?” I asked curiously. Rhys only exhaled sharply.

“Seeing as though I might be hiring miss Archeron, yes, I do trust her, Azriel.”

Cassian’s eyebrows lifted in excitement. “Seriously, Fey? You’re coming to work with us?”

The name threw me off, and I flinched. All I could see was his face, his and Lucien’s, the stupid nickname they’d called me for years. It only made me tilt back my glass, wanting to blur the lines of their faces until they were unrecognizable.

“I have not agreed to anything yet, so don’t get your hopes up.” I took another sip, then pinned Cassian with a look. But not the type that was antagonizing or joking. I stared at him, dead serious, and said, “Don’t call me that.”

Cassian blinked. Even Mor looked between the two of us, shocked, only for Cassian to say, “Message received.”

“I got a call this afternoon,” Azriel said, trying to clear the air as quickly as possible, “that they’ve arranged a meeting for next week.”

“Hybern and the mayor?”

Azriel shook his head. “No. The mayor and Spring Corporations. They’re having lunch at West Border.”

“So he’s taken over as Hybern’s coordinator?”

“More or less. The mayor trusts Ivy. They’ve made deals together in the past, the mayor’s profited off of a few strategic property investments. It would be too direct to get Hybern directly involved.”

There was nothing else to do but sip my wine. Anything but think about his kind features and golden hair. Because I knew those investments. The limited amount of information he’d shared with me, I remembered, was about the mayor’s dealings. I’d even been to one of those lunches with him, a year back, when they were discussing a new condo development on the east side.

“We can’t let that meeting happen,” Rhys said, “or we have to intercept it in some way.”

“What do you want us to do? Waltz in dressed as waiters and pull the fire alarm?” Cassian interjected.

Amren, seated at the kitchen counter, seemed like she was pondering the idea fondly.

“Can we hold this meeting tomorrow? I’m hungry for pizza. And Pictionary.” Mor said.

“That pizza is inedible.” Cassian grumbled, but picked up the boxes and wandered to the kitchen table anyways.

“That’s why the Gods gave your Neanderthal-self opposable thumbs to pick off the peppers.”

I took a seat at the table between Rhys and Mor. Cassian instantly dug into the pizza box, tearing away the red peppers with an animalistic furiousness before nearly inhaling the slice. Mor savoured her piece slowly, and I reluctantly took a bite. The peppers set my tongue on fire, and I washed it down with a sip of wine.

“Well?” Amren wondered, staring at her perfectly manicured nails. “Are we going to get this ridiculousness over or what?”

Azriel collected the Pictionary box from the kitchen island reluctantly and set it on the table, pulling away just in time before Cassian dug into the box, grease dripping from his fingers.

“Remember what I told you Feyre?” Rhys murmured beside me.

“Yup,” I said, “if anyone but Azriel wins, then they’re cheating.”

#dngg #acotar #acomaf #acowar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #sjm #sarah j maas #feyre #rhys #rhysand #feysand #feysand fanfic #feysand fanfiction

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applsauss · 5 years

Text

Off-Piste

Description: This is all that matters. And so you ski so fast that the stress from midterms and the weight of the last semester can’t possibly catch up.

Fandom:  Naruto

Pairing:  Inuzuka Kiba/Reader

Word Count:  4.9k+

Warning(s):  None.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

You look at Kiba. You look at your final.

You scribble a circle in the upper right corner.

You look at Kiba. You bounce your knee. You look towards the window, at the ridge of white mountains cutting through the crisp sky.

You look at your final and try to read through the questions again, but the words mush and swim in your brain.

You look at the mountains. You look at Kiba. You look at the mountains. There’s a loud clicking sound as you set your pencil down on the desk, and then you push yourself up from your chair. Your movements are rushed and stiff as you make your way through the rows of desks to the front of the classroom and hand in your exam. You were never gonna get the last couple of questions anyways.

***

When you step out into the quiet hallway, the cold air hits you like a wall. Your statistics classroom is always stuffy and warm, and it makes you irritable during assessments, but the hallway is kept as frigid as it is outside, so without fail, leaving the class shocks you awake.

You step to the side, drop your bag, then pull on your coat before squinting down either end of the hallway to check if your favourite overstuffed chairs, secluded and tucked under the nose of a wide window, are open. Kiba is still taking the midterm, so you’ll have to wait.

As you begin to pick your way towards the chairs, the soles of your boots squeak on the floor. The hallways are empty and echoey, and you’re uncomfortably aware of how quiet it is, of how it’s still ten minutes before class ends and twenty minutes before the next class begins.

The chairs are opposite the study tables that tend to fill between classes, and a handful of people are seated there already. A girl in a sweater has earphones on, another has a laptop with some sort of 3d modelling program running. You hear the faint echo of a piano from the music rooms down the hall.

Gripping the straps of your backpack, the mild anxiety and disappointment from the final follow you to the chairs. You don’t even want to think about exams anymore. You’re sick of them.

This last one was the worst, your paper was crinkled and covered in marks after erasing as many times as you did, and the fact that you feel like you didn’t understand anything on the test wasn’t helping.

Though you really don’t have room to complain because it’s obvious you really dropped the ball this quarter. Just over halfway through the year and the stress was eating you alive, pushing you to procrastinate more and more. At this point, you’re just treading water, trying to keep your gpa competitive for when you transfer. If you transfer.

You slide your backpack off your shoulders and flop down onto the chair. After a moment of staring straight ahead, you lean forward and pull your phone out of your bag. When you click the home button, your screen lights up with notifications. Tenten is trying to convince both you and Lee to break from your après-ski tradition of picking up take-out to go out for burgers in your group-chat.

Like every weekend since the mountain opened for skiing, the three of you have spent a full Saturday on the slopes, and then gorged yourself on take-out in front of the TV. Lee and you are life-long ski/snowboarders, and Tenten started when she moved here a couple years ago. It’s what you bonded with her over initially, and what eventually led to the three of you sharing a small, barely three-bedroom house in a neighborhood at the foot of the mountain.

You look up from your phone when you notice Kiba making a beeline to you.

“How’d it go?” “What’d you get for Two-’A’?” you both ask at the same time.

You turn your phone off and slip it into your inside pocket as you stand up. “Something weird. Like, four hundred twenty-seven. It didn’t make much sense but I double checked it.”

He lets out a frustrated sigh and drags a hand through his hair, tugging hard at the ends. “Me, too,” he says, then continues, “what about the first one on the second page?”

“You had to use the central limit theorem, right?”

“I don’t know. Did you?” his voice is strained with mild emotion, “how d’you feel you did?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t understand most of it.”

“Me neither,” he sighs, standing there, with his backpack slung over one shoulder. “And I studied,” he whispers and you feel like you’re both trapped, hyper aware of the public setting, of the people just behind Kiba, pretending to mind their own business, until he finally admits, “I… don’t know if I passed.”

His words hit hard in your gut, and you make a sympathetic face at your feet. Sometimes, moments like these feel like mountains too big to summit. You’re pretty sure you at least passed. “I’m sorry,” you end up saying, “that sucks.”

“Yea.” He shifts slightly on his feet and without words, you know he’s asking for a hug, so you slip your arms around his waist, tucking yourself tight into his chest because you know, at the very least, how to do this.

He exhales, and noticeably lets the tension held in his body slink away for now. “Sorry,” he whispers as you pull away, even though he really means ‘thank you’. Slightly uncomfortable under the attention, but wanting to persevere for him, you poke his stomach, knowing he’ll shy away with a reflexive puff and smile.

“It’s nothing.” You awkwardly smile up at him before continuing with: “Now let’s get going. I’m hungry.” you pinch the sleeve of his jacket and tug him with you as you start walking towards the back stairs.

Remembering the group chat, you ask: “Think you can make it up to the mountain this weekend?”

You make it down the stairs, and he shrugs when you pull the door open at the bottom. “I’m not working.” He walks through, then grabs the outside door for you.

You let out a heavy sigh at the thought of work, of him working. You’ve got a pretty solid job at a department store on the other side of town, but this quarter Kiba started working as a server in a restaurant downtown and he’s too nice to say enough’s enough when they start piling the hours on his schedule. You step through the door and the chilled wind hits your face. “Ignore it if they call you, Kiba. You deserve days off.”

“I know.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Is everyone still going?”

“Yea.”

It’s still early enough in the morning for the ground to be covered in patchy ice, and the snow that hadn’t melted during the sudden warm spell is packed and lumped along the edges of the concrete pathways.

The grass is dead and buried along the walkway, and clumps of snow hang to the branches of trees, weighing them down like christmas ornaments. You walk side by side with Kiba towards the parking lot, in between the different halls until you reach the main courtyard. There, in the open area, you can finally see the mountains, including the ski runs operated by the parks service.

It’s not expected to snow again until next weekend, but the storms have been pretty steady up until the sudden warm spell that’s melted most of it off. It just means that with the sunshine, you might get away with just a sweatshirt up on the mountain. The snow will be slow and slush, but that doesn’t make for a bad day, not that any day spent skiing is a bad day.

Besides, you think spring skiing might be the best kind of skiing. The slopes start emptying as everyone loses their winter fever, or forgets that the tows are still running, and so the few who make the pilgrimage up the mountain every weekend are rewarded with wide open slopes and pale, pale blue skies.

You pause to stare. “Check out how white it is.”

Kiba turns and stops with you. “Mom said they got at least a couple feet packed on this last storm.”

“Yea. They did.” You turn to kiba. “It’ll be good,” you say, and his face gentles.

He reaches an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side. “You’re an addict.”

He steers you towards his car, and you let your head rest on his shoulder, chin tilted up so you can see his face. “Yea? Well… Whatever. it’s fun.”

“Mhhmm.”

“You like it, too.”

The sky is a crisp, etheral blue. His car is rust red. He lifts his arm off your shoulder when you break off to make your way to the passenger side door, and you can’t help but think again of your statistics final.

He circles ‘round to the driver’s side, but pauses in front of the door. He’s got this far-off look in his eyes as he tilts his head back and lets out a pent-up breath. You feel the anxiety, too. Sometimes, you think neither of you are really sure what you’re doing anymore, if you’re happy, but then he shakes his head and smiles at you. “You’re right. I do like it.”

Kiba unlocks his door, swings it open, then leans over the passenger seat to unlock yours. You sling your pack into the footspace in front of the passenger seat, and dodge Kiba’s bag as he tosses it into the back.

He starts the car, switches gears into reverse, and then pulls out into the parking lot. The car jerks as he shifts into first, and then you’re puttering along the front of the college before you turn off onto the street proper. Before you know it, you’re driving along the river on a sun-dried highway with snow piled over the guard railing.

You’re in a rush to get away.

You were in such a rush to get away, to distance yourself from highschool that two years went by before your parents finally convinced you to start taking classes at the community college, and now you’re here, in love, unsure of the future, with grades you could be more happy about, and a lingering anxiety that’s sunk so deep in your flesh, you’re afraid it might be built in.

You look from the river, to the mountains, and then to Kiba, and let out a stubborn sigh. It’s all too annoying to think about anyways.

***

“Kiba, I want to see the killer whales,” You try and crane your neck to catch a glimpse of the wildlife documentary playing on the tv, but his steady hand at the base of your skull keeps your head ducked down on his shoulder; and the arm wrapped around your torso keeps you straddling his lap, facing the back of the couch. He hums acknowledgement but doesn’t move.

He’s just sort of, mouthing at your neck, leaving heavy, open-mouthed kisses on your bare skin. It’s something he does often, and it works out for both of you because he likes using his mouth and you like his calming, intense presence when he gets like this - but right now, you’re more interested in the family dynamics of an orca pod dancing in Puget Sound than you are in letting him tease your neck raw. “Kiba,”

“Hmm,” he hums louder, with more purpose, and then he pushes you up with both hands on waist so you’re standing, and pushes you to lie lengthwise across the couch. He climbs in between your legs, then drags you by ankles so your hips are pressed snug and ducks down to resume laying kisses on the other side of your neck, hands feeling up your sides before dragging down the zipper of your sweater and moving on to your collar bones. In this position, you can watch sideways as the orcas bump noses.

The narrator quiets for a moment, then the music picks up as a seal stumbles across the pod. Your mouth parts as Kiba sucks on your skin a little stronger than before. You drag your hand up his arm and under his short sleeve, fingertips digging into the bare skin of his shoulder, nails coming out in response to his teeth scraping on your shoulder.

When he moves to another part of your neck, the space he leaves unoccupied grows cold in the air.

Akamaru barks at the back door. Kiba hums, and turns your chin towards him. He leaves a sloppy kiss half on your lips, half on your cheek, amorous and slow.

Everyone’s out of the house for the day, and his empty home makes you think of your own. You’re long overdue a dinner, or even a call home, and the immobilizing anxiety rises in your chest the more you think of your parents until you manage refocus your attention on the weight pressing you into the couch and the gentle way Kiba handles you. And the fresh blanket of spring break is wrapped tight around the two of you as you plan to spend the rest of the day lounging.

Akamaru barks again. Kiba kisses you full on the lips, and you kiss back, then you push up against him with a shaky exhale. Quickly, you suck in a lung full of air and pull away to make some space between you. “Kiba,” you murmur, but it’s hard to get a clear mind because all you can smell is him.

His eyes are lidded and intent, and you lose yourself in them. You hum, lulled, and kiss him again, until Akamaru paws at the backdoor. “Kiba,” you mumble into his mouth because you can’t pull away from the kiss anymore, “your dog wants you.”

He backs off, but not far enough to be removed from your personal space, and makes up for the lack of kissing by languidly feeling the dip in your side through your shirt. “What’d you say?” When he talks, his lips brush your chin. They’re soft and slick.

His hand is like a heater through your shirt, and his firm touch makes you want to close your eyes. Fuck, he feels good. You smile at the knowledge of how smitten you are with him. “Kiba,” you repeat, this time with a little laugh, “your dog wants you.”

“Don’t care,” he says before catching your bottom lip between his teeth and pulling, then licking his way into your mouth. It’s gross, slobbery and enticing.

Akamaru barks twice, growing tired of being left outside. You push Kiba up by the chest, but he curls around your hand, sealing his lips firmly over yours. You let out a sound somewhere between approval and annoyance, and in retaliation to his insistence, you slide your hand down and dig your fingers into his armpits.

He predictably jerks sideways, your lips coming apart with a pop and a high-pitched huff from him that makes you grin. He’s sitting back on his heels over you, pouting, and Akamaru barks and you laugh at his distressed, red face, then sit up and wrap your arms around his middle, pressing short kisses to under his jaw and down his neck in apology. He succeeds in pretending to still be upset until you lunge forward and blow a raspberry on his shoulder.

He jerks again in surprise, and lets out a loud laugh before shoving you off him. You both fall back onto opposite arms of the couch, red-faced and happy. “Let’s go for a walk with Akamaru,” you offer.

“Yea, okay,” he nods then pounces on you, holding your hands to his chest as he nibbles quickly down your neck, ignoring your laughing and squirming. Then he pulls you both up to stand. “It’s a nice day, anyways. We should be outside.”

He hops over the couch and makes his way through the kitchen to the backdoor. You try and find where you threw your jacket - it’s over the recliner, next to your backpack.

You hear the sound of the back door opening, and then nails scampering across hardwood as Akamaru comes running into the living room. He intercepts you on your way to grab your jacket.

“Hi, hi, hi,” you bend down on one knee to pet his scruff, “How are you?” He makes a series of loud, happy sniffing noises, as he nudges you all over with his nose, tail whipping back and forth. There’s snow on his snout, and his fur is damp around his ankles and face but you pet him anyways, skillfully dodging his wet tongue as it comes out to lick your cheek.

He hears the jingle of Kiba pulling his leash off the hooks by the door and leaps over the couch to go sprinting towards his favourite person. You watch with a smile, then pat your knees and stand up. You trail after Akamaru, and join them at the front door.

“Wanna walk around by the creek?” Kiba asks, shoving his feet into his mom’s snow boots, and you sit down on the floor with your jacket in your lap and pull your own boots on.

“Yea, sure.”

While he’s busy fiddling with Akamaru’s harness, you rummage around the mud room for a tennis ball and the bright orange scoop launcher. When you find them, you stand, watching Kiba as he bends over to look for something in the pile of shoes by the door, then grow bored and pull his hat down over his eyes.

“Hey!” he yanks it off and swats at you, but you’re already throwing the door open and bounding down the front steps. Akamaru bolts after you, and Kiba snorts, then steps onto the porch, and shuts and locks the door behind him.

***

But lazy days end, and give way to twilight quickly when winter and spring melt together.

During the early afternoon, a full blanket of clouds moved in, and drank up the yellow sunlight, dispersing it, white and even, across the sky. By the time the stars were out, the cloud cover was still without breaks, and so after sunset, the sky became stuck as an eerie lilac.

Now, farther east along the river, it turns into a shallow pink as it approaches the mouth of the gorge and the city seated on the bank, awake and asleep all at once.

The sparse street lamps and street lights reflect on the snow pushed to the side by the plows, and you are awake and asleep all at once. For a day so short, it felt stretched, and now you’re ready to shut yourself in your room and stare at a wall until you can’t anymore. Maybe it’s the stress and the reality of the situation finally catching up to you. You feel bad because you love Kiba, and you don’t understand why being with him doesn’t always make you feel better because you feel like it should, but it doesn’t. The tight expression on his face puts you too on edge as you suddenly remember the way your day started off, but you look at his side profile and think that he’s beautiful anyways.

Akamaru stretches and yawns in the backseat. Your phone rings. It’s your mom. You stare for a second, dull fear spiking.

Kiba catches on to your sudden mood-shift and glances at your phone. You know he has opinions on your relationship with your parents - but he can’t because you don’t understand a lot of things about him, and this is one of the things he doesn’t understand about you because even though he doesn’t know his dad, he’s got a mom who’s enough to make up for two.

“What time are we leaving in the morning?” he asks to change the subject.

“A little later for Hinata, so probably around ten.”

“Okay.”

His headlights flash as he hits the odd patch job on the road, and then he turns onto your street. After a minute more, he pulls into your driveway and puts the car in park.

“It’s going to be okay.” “I love you.” You both say at the same time.

You share a quiet, embarrassed laugh, and he reaches over to tuck his hand behind your head and presses a kiss to your lips.

“I love you, too,” you tell him.

“I know.”

Outside the car is cold, but you stay warm even as you stand outside to watch him pull away. Some things are too confusing, but what you feel in your chest at this moment as his headlights disappear around the corner is not.

***

Kiba’s little sedan is packed on the commute up the mountain. Tenten complained about having the longest legs (she definitely doesn’t), and won the passenger seat. Lee and Hinata, too polite to argue, and you, technically not considered a guest in Kiba’s car, are thigh-to-thigh in the backseat, with the bundle of skis and snowboards between your heads, resting on the middle console, threatening the gear change. Kiba is driving.

The road up the mountain is winding and full of hair-pin curves, but the car rolls along at a mostly steady speed as Kiba keeps a safe following distance behind the baby blue van puttering along in front of him. Everything comes to a sudden stop as you make it to the line of cars waiting at the park entrance, and Lee loses hold of a ski pole.

“Shit! Lee!” You dodge the pole that was on its way to gouge your eyes out by throwing yourself across Hinata’s lap. Hinata squeaks, knees jerking up in surprise, and throws her arms over your head to protect you.

“I am so sorry!” Lee exclaims, reaching an arm over the skis to grab the pole, but his sleeve gets caught on a brake, making the whole bundle jerk again.

“It’s fine! It’s fine! Stop moving!” You shout and when you move to grab the bundle, Hinata raises her arms to release you. Torso twisted at a weird angle, you try to gather the dropped poles and push them up to rest near your shoulder again, and then you let out a breath and sit back into your seat. Then you start snickering.

“This is stupid,” you say.

Kiba shakes his head. “You were the one who insisted we go.”

It’s a new day, and last night feels so distant already. Like an untouchable memory. You can read the subtitles, but it doesn’t have sound.

“It’s all a part of the fun,” you insist, and Tenten starts laughing too, then.

Lee asks Tenten to aim her vent more towards the back, and the car starts moving up the line.

With only a couple runs and a relatively remote location, the local ski spot isn’t very popular with tourists, so the parking lot is small and filled with cars you recognize from around town. You and Tenten start pulling the skis out of the car while the rest of the group goes and buys their lift tickets. The two of you’ve already got season passes.

“Ski bum,” Kiba had affectionately referred to you when he caught you browsing for different speed waxes on the web.

Already in her snowboarding boots, Tenten saunters over the bluff of snow and sticks hers and Lee’s snowboards into it. You turn to watch Lee, Kiba and Hinata over at the ticket window, then set your ski boots heavily in front of you and sit down in the backseat sideways, so you’re facing out of the car. Feet not swollen yet, the ski boots come on without much struggle. You dip your toes in, then pull up hard on the tongue of the boot and your foot slides in. You crank yourself into the boots, then stand and revel in the feeling of being strapped in so snug, in the way the boots respond to your feet.

By the time everyone’s returned to the car, you and Tenten are dancing on your toes chasing each other across the icy parking lot. She yanks her snowboard out of the snow and you toss your skis over your shoulder. “We’re gonna go ahead.”

“Yea. Fine.” Kiba waves you off, then pulls his own gear out of his duffel and starts with rolling his snowpants up to pull his boots on.

Hinata gives you a friendly wave and Lee jumps to pull on whatever he can as quickly as possible to join you without hesitation, eager as always.

The two of you sprint up the short hill towards the bunny slope, and as soon as you’re on semi-level ground, you click into your skis, already done with walking in your stiff boots. Tenten keeps trekking, even after you skate past her with a friendly taunt.

You make sure your gloves are on right, then tuck your poles into an armpit and let the rope tow pull you off and up the mountain. You don’t wait halfway up because Tenten is only a couple seconds behind you, though you do stop once you hit the top.

Tenten scrapes to a stop next to you, and you both spot the same streak of green recklessly sprinting towards the tow. Without comment, the two of you pause to wait for Lee. Tenten flops down to sit perpendicular to the slope to further tighten her boots, and you can’t help but feel jealous of a snowboarder’s range of motion. A harsh gust of wind pulls at your clothes, but you were careful to keep the tails of your scarf tucked tight into your bib and so everything stays put. You stick your poles into the snow and wiggle back and forth impatiently.

Tenten sighs loudly, then tugs her mittens back on before sitting back against the drift. In front, the run slopes downwards, and you can see all the skiers making their way down the short blue square, the kids tucking in deep with their poles sticking out of their armpits like speed-demons, the rats hitting the jumps, and then farther on, past the run is the rest of the mountain range, blue and white and infinite. It calls to you.

“This is all that matters,” Tenten utters as she watches Lee tuck over the rope tow and the people, down in the parking lot, eating breakfast out of their cars. She tips her head back and squints happily at you, “I’m so glad the semester’s over. I didn’t think I’d survive midterms.”

You give a muffled laugh. “I know. It’s like you can’t help but stress, even though your brain knows you shouldn’t really care as much as you do.”

Lee hits the top of the run, launches himself off the tow, then lets out a whoop and doesn’t stop before pointing the nose of his board downhill and proceeds to barrel towards the park.

“Hey!” Tenten shouts before hopping up and following him. You laugh, then dig your poles into the slight layer of slush on the packed snow, and push yourself forwards.

You ski parallel to Tenten as she makes her way through the park, and you resolve to ditch your poles once you reach the queue because if you’re not hitting the longer runs, then you might as well skip the extra annoyance of carrying them up the tow.

Tenten hits a jump, soaring through the air, and salutes you. You give a whoop back, raising your fist, then carving right.

You spy Kiba and Hinata pushing themselves along towards the second rope tow, slipping on the slight incline.

“Hey!” You shout, barreling towards them without slowing as they reach the flat snow around the bottom of the tow.

They both wave, and then Kiba pales as you continue to fly towards him.

“Stop!” he shouts, and you laugh as he starts to try and turn, but you’re too quick. Careful to slot your skis between his, you drag your poles between your skis to slow yourself down slightly before you quit the superficial attempt and open your arms wide. “No! No! No! (Y/N)!”

You laugh and Kiba throws his poles and then you hit his chest, forcing a loud ‘oof’ out of both of you. You wrap your arms around him, poles clinking behind his back and your momentum forces him to slide backwards a couple meters. He wobbles, a ski lifts off the snow, but steadies himself by leaning his weight onto you and grappling with your jacket because you’re planted and steady on the snow, always.

You grin up at him, feeling the happiness bloom hot in your chest, like shot of liquor. He doesn’t have his scarf or goggles on his face yet, so you can see his bare expression of exasperation as he reaches up to palm your covered face. And you can see the adoration plain on his face as he says: “I hate you.”

The smile he pulls out of you in this moment doesn’t leave your face for the rest of the day. You yank your scarf down below your chin and grin up at him. “Hit the poma with me?” you ask.

“Sure. sounds fun.” he says, and so you help him pick up his poles, then you both catch up with Hinata to see if she’d like to go as well. Kiba reaches her first.

You remember staring at the mountain through the window of your statistics classroom, and shake your head at how silly it all seems now. This is all that matters. And so you ski so fast that the stress from midterms and the weight of the last semester can’t possibly catch up.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- 

Masterlist in blog desc.

#inuzuka kiba #naruto #inuzuka kiba x reader #inuzuka kiba imagine #naruto imagine

24 notes · View notes

chisie12 · 5 years

Text

Friends and Butterflies, An After Ending - Part 1

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20490521/chapters/48623783

TAKE THIS 14K WORTH OF FLUFF - Domestic Bliss with a lil surprise at the end.

“Ge ge really looks beautiful. A flower fitting of a prince.”

~~*~~*~~

Spring spurred on the thought of blooming flowers, a cloud of pink, white and red.

A blossom in full bloom breaks off its branch with the alluring kiss of the wind, twirling enchantingly like following the path of a fairy before falling into a smooth, fair palm.

“Ge.”

“Hmm?” The young man turned around, long soft hair dancing around his body, eyes glazing over lovingly at the tall slender man behind him who donned the robes of a fiery crimson maple colour. He himself was cladded in white robes, hands crossed and hidden in the sleeves. Paired with his gentle smile that showed off his pearly whites and the sunset as a backdrop, he truly looked God sent. His eyes involuntarily closed at the touch near his cheek as the fallen blossom was tucked behind his ear, the stem tickling the edges of his scalp. The hand shifted to cup his cheek, a thumb caressing the soft skin under his fingertips and he was greeted with a warm smile. His breath hitched in his throat, eyes soaking in the handsome sight; skin as white as snow, a proud face framed by silky raven locks with a feral aura that stood unwavering, where a red pearl at the end of a small braid teased him, when his eyes trailed up, meeting with a lone eye that still sparkled as bright as the stars despite the other one covered by a black eyepatch. He felt the weight of the sheer love in the other man’s gaze, swelling and flooding his heart with all it could before it overflowed upon his pink lips.

The taller man bent down at his waist and he rested his forehead upon the young man in white, fingers slowly tracing his cheek as his grin widened with the smaller man’s own widening smile. “Ge ge really looks beautiful. A flower fitting of a prince.”

The younger man tilted his head up, fully resting his forehead against his man’s before rubbing his nose with his. “I think San Lang’s more beautiful.”

Life was fairly simple right now, easy-going and relaxing for the couple. The Heavenly Court was already rebuilt, filled with the golden palaces and a tall clock tower still standing strong, but it wasn’t like Xie Lian frequently stayed at his own palace. It felt lonely, too large for someone like him, and he’d admit to no one but himself, that it just didn’t feel right there. Not a home. Not a place where he could stay.

“Come on, ge ge. Let’s go look for something to eat.” Hua Cheng slowly straightened his back and the smaller male inwardly pouted at the loss of contact before his smile returned when he felt the larger hand slid into his own.

“You’re not going to throw another feast are you?” Xie Lian asked as they made their way back to Ghost City.

“If ge ge doesn’t want one, then I won’t host one,” Hua Cheng grinned.

Xie Lian caught up to his steps and looked seriously at him. “We don’t need to. It’ll be a waste, San Lang. Even if I just drink water, it’ll be enough because I have you.”

“Because without affection, we could be hungry even if we’re eating food?” Hua Cheng finished his phrase for him, chuckling as he did so.

“Mm!” Xie Lian nodded happily.

In the distance, the couple strolled down the path, leaving behind a trail of dancing petals shimmering in soft hues in the air. Warm sunlight shone upon their handsome countenances, the season of joy prospering with delight at their presence.

“Your highness!” A voice suddenly called out in Xie Lian’s mind from his private communication channel.

Putting two fingers to his temple, he answered, “Qi Ying? What’s wrong?”

“Can you come up? Something is wrong! – Ah!”

He wanted to inquire more of the matter he spoke but the line was cut before he could. Holding back his sigh, he tried to not look disappointed, really. He tried.

“Ge ge? What’s wrong?” Hua Cheng caught the gleam of disappointment in his gaze and frowned. “Did they call for you?”

“Yeah…” Xie Lian sighed. He looked up at Hua Cheng, catching his gaze with his own. “There are some matters they need me to see. It sounded quite urgent.”

A hand snaked up his neck to cup his cheek once more. Warm, soft lips pressed themselves against Xie Lian’s forehead, lingering there for a moment longer. “It’s alright. I’ll wait for you at home,” Hua Cheng breathily whispered against his skin.

A smile tugged at his downwards curved lips, pulling them up involuntarily. Home. Warmth bloomed in his heart as he smiled up at Hua Cheng. Home. ‘That’s where you are.’

“Alright.” And in a bout of confidence, he pulled the taller man down with a gentle tug at the collar and planted his lips on the most definitely cooperative man. “I’ll see you at home.”

…

But he wished he hadn’t come.

What Heavenly Court? This was more like a playground.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know!” Quan Yi Zhen cried, holding a small bundle in his arms. It was wrapped in earthly coloured clothes, chubby face scrunched up in displeasure which it made sure to let everyone know – just like every other baby there.

On the grounds of the Heavenly Court littered colourful bundles, either crawling around or bawling – screaming – their eyes out. Xie Lian rubbed his temples as he sighed dejected. Just what in the world happened? As his gaze swept over the royal babies of Heaven, he noticed one particular baby, silent and staring up at him after having crawled his way over, locks of silvery grey hair falling past his shoulders, cladded in robes of white and turquoise... and that face –

“Mu Qing?”

Mu Qing scrunched his face into a big frown, the space between his eyebrows wrinkling in annoyance. “Are you blind?”

Xie Lian blinked. Twice. He swore that baby just rolled his eyes. He watched as the baby glared and gave him the stink eye, before his eyes rolled again. Yeah, definitely Mu Qing.

“What happened?” He hurriedly asked in favour of finding out just why he could actually talk. He also pointedly ignored Quan Yi Zhen’s wide eyes and gaping mouth.

“Some idiot spilled some trash bottle you had in your room.” Mu Qing huffed his cheeks and crossed his pudgy little arms, and Xie Lian felt his hands twitch.

“Oh?” He replied instead. “I didn’t know I had something like that.” It’s been awhile since he actually entered his palace and with all the junk he’s collected, he kept most of them in the newly built Heavenly Court (only so he wouldn’t hoard them at Hua Cheng’s manor). There would be a rare artifact or two mixed within, but he wouldn’t really know. He bit his bottom lip, having a stare-down with Mu Qing whose displeased face twisted into one of horror. Eyes widened in fear, mouth falling agape, arms pulled back, and soon, he voiced out his utterly horrified displeasure.

 “Waaaaaahhh!!” Large beads streamed down the corners of his eyes while his arms flailed about. He kicked his legs but they were to no avail as Xie Lian effortlessly kept his secure in his hold, a wide, face-splitting grin upon his face.

“So… cute!” He dragged out the first out, placing the baby in the crook of his arm as he pinched his cheeks. He dared now, only now; Because he was a baby. “Such chubby cheeks! So small-ah!”

Baby Mu Qing wailed louder, screamed at the top of his little lungs in an attempt to shatter Xie Lian’s eardrums as retaliation for the utter humiliation. Unfortunately, Xie Lian was already immune to such pain. After all, when he had the worst of luck, ten out of ten times, when he was out scrap picking, some children would try and take the goods he picked up, and when he tried to take them back, they would of course start screaming and crying in his ears until their mothers came to admonish him for bullying their children (Xie Lian: I’m innocent!). Thus, kids and their wailing have zero effectiveness against the Flower Crown Martial God.

“Do you know who spilled it?” Xie Lian asked after satisfying himself with pinching baby Mu Qing’s cheeks.

Mu Qing paused in his crying, sniffling up at Xie Lian. “F-Fe… Eh… Waaaaahhhh!”

“Oh, oh. It’s okay. There, there. Stop crying,” Xie Lian cooed, bouncing the crying child in his arms. Baby Mu Qing’s round cheeks were flushed red, liquid dribbling down his nose as his body temperature rose ever so slightly. He hummed to himself. It would seem like the Heavenly Officials could speak, though limited, and he wondered if it was related to spiritual power.

“Y-Your highness?” Quan Yi Zhen called, looking awkward carrying a now calm baby in his arms. “Do you know what’s wrong? I just came back when I encountered this!” His curly hair was curlier than usual, dishevelled and sticking out as though he walked through a storm of lightning.

Xie Lian looked up towards him, shifting baby Mu Qing so that the little one could rest against his shoulder as he patted his back comfortingly (or what he hoped was comforting). “It would seem everyone got turned into babies by accident.”

“I heard it was by some bottle you had collected?”

Xie Lian shrugged. “Someone must have been rummaging in my palace and accidentally spilled it.”

“How…” Quan Yi Zhen’s entire face fell in horror when the baby started squirming in his hold. “Stay still!” It sounded a lot more like a plea than an order.

“Fuck you!” Suddenly came out of the baby’s mouth, shocking both Xie Lian and Quan Yi Zhen into becoming statues. “I don’t want to stay still!”

Xie Lian blinked once more. Twice. “Feng… Xin?”

“Yes, your highness?”

It had been a random shot in the dark, though it was also equally a much needed verbal communication, and he had been right. Looking at the soft features of the baby, of dark ebony hair and sharp eyebrows, he could see the resemblance to his old bodyguard. “Uh…” Xie Lian gulped, trying to swallow the shock down, “Do you know who entered my palace?”

Feng Xin refused to look at him directly, big round eyes suddenly finding the Heavenly Court’s architecture most fascinating.

“Feng Xin?”

The baby in question immediately covered his face with his hands, also so pudgy and small, not even a quarter the size of Xie Lian’s own palm. His hands twitched again, really so tempted to play and knead those small hands. If he knew the two generals would have been this cute, he would have found a way to have them this way more often! Wait no. That would have been horrifying. They’d kill him. Hmm… or mothers. No mother could possibly fathom a swearing baby. They’d probably faint on the spot.

Xie Lian called his name again as he hefted a now sniffling baby Mu Qing higher on his shoulder, firmly holding the baby with his left arm while lowering his body slightly and reached out towards Feng Xin with the other hand. “Feng Xin?” His voice was soft and gentle with slender fingers lightly tugging at the small hands to calm the baby general down. “It’s alright. I won’t be mad. Tell me, please?” He added the last word on for good measure.

Sure enough, Feng Xin peeked at his old master through his fingers, large teary eyes sparkling at him with innocent blinks. “…I did.”

Xie Lian continued smiling while lightly rubbing Feng Xin’s head who leaned into the touch with a delighted smile. He waited patiently for Feng Xin to continue, silently enjoying the sound of happy baby giggles bursting from his chest.

“…I wanted to try clean up your palace, your highness.” Feng Xin’s voice was soft, barely audible and if it wasn’t for his sharp hearing, he would have missed it.

“Oh,” fell from Xie Lian’s lips. He hummed while he thought back to his palace. It might be a mess, he’ll admit… Quite a mess indeed. There were piles and piles of junk he thought were rare or useful that he hoarded, that he refused to let sit around idly in Paradise Manor, and over time, he just… forgot. Inwardly sighing to himself, he’ll admit another thing today: He preferred time with Hua Cheng in Paradise Manor. Probably because of exactly that hoarded piles he never got around to properly sort them around. Oops. But then again, it was just as Hua Cheng said before: “A home has family. A place where someone lives alone is not a home.”

He felt heat crept onto his face at the thought of a family with Hua Cheng, just like a warm embrace cradling his heart, when he shook his head. There were still matters at hand to tend to!

Hmm, should he ask why he wanted to clean the palace?

Xie Lian returned his focus onto Feng Xin, hoping that the blush went away. Seeing the phantom image of the strong, determined archer graced with a handsome face being reduced to an extremely round, chubby little baby with pink tinted cheeks, small pouty and thick brows arching over large pleading eyes, there was a clear ringing of mirth mixed with the many other wailing babies. Giving Feng Xin a pinch on his cheeks, he looked back at the many other baby officials on the ground with a grin.

“What should we do?” Quan Yi Zhen asked.

Xie Lian ignored the slight high pitched tone of his voice and turned to him, calm and collected. “I'm not sure how long the effects will last but the Heavenly Court is definitely not a safe place for the babies.” At Quan Yi Zhen’s confused expression, he continued explaining, “The place is too large. They could go anywhere and will possibly hurt themselves while we’re not looking. I'm certain that only we’re not affected somehow since we weren’t in the Heavenly Court.”

What he left unsaid were: Can you really take care of hundreds of babies? I definitely can’t.

Quan Yi Zhen glanced at all the wailing babies. His face visibly blanched, almost as white as Hua Cheng, Xie Lian noted.

“All... all these?” Turning back to his calmly smiling friend, the corner of his lips twitched into a bitter smile, hands absentmindedly patting a settled Feng Xin in his arms. “Can I not join? I only know how to fight. Not take care of babies!”

“It's alright,” Xie Lian patted his shoulder reassuringly, ignoring the panicked shivers trembling in his friend’s body. “I know who can help.”

Back in Paradise Manor, dishes with steamed buns were lined up on the dark hardwood table set in the main hall, a pot of steaming tea by the side. Long pale fingers stretched out of crimson robes lightly tapped against the ceramic cup, a thumb tracing its curve as his lips curved into a devilish smile. Time ticked by. He lifted the cup and took a sip. His eyes darted to the main door, forcing the hopes and anticipation down a notch. He waited and waited. Another sip. And then he stood up, suddenly materialising a cloth in his hands. Icy cold water kissed his skin as he dampened the cloth, red sleeves rolled up as he proceeded to wipe down the table. Once, twice. The steamed buns were placed back into the bamboo steamer in the kitchen, below it a low flame flickering in greeting.

It was only him. Alone. In Paradise Manor.

The sun had long set, crept behind the horizon, dragging away with it the rainbow hues that painted the sky, leaving behind only a solemn navy tone, sparsely dotted with stars and a full moon hanging low in the cloudless sky. He walked back towards the table, plopping back into the chair as he watched, stared at the door. The smile dropped from his face.

What could be taking so long? Was it urgent?

Dancing in his palm, led around by his fingers were a pair of dices that tinkled as they touched.

Should he go visit? Find him in the Heavenly Court?

He should be fine. Nothing can scare him.

But what if he got hurt?

...

Clenching his palm with the dices, Hua Cheng shot up from his seat, the chair scraping against the floor. His arm was pulled back, ready to throw, lips pursed and expression straight, when the door slammed open.

“San Lang!”

That voice, his name. His muscles visibly relaxed as he lowered his arm, his fierce dark expression softening and pulling a smile when the white silhouette pounced into his arms. Leaning down, strands of his hair falling to tickle his cheeks, he asked, “Did ge ge miss me that much?”

Pink blossoms crept up Xie Lian’s cheeks and his ears at the soft caresses of his breaths, accentuating the snowy beauty of the flower still tucked behind his ear, and he buried his head deeper in Hua Cheng’s embrace.

“Are you hungry? I made dinner.”

Xie Lian’s head perked up at the mention of food, homemade food.

“Have you had dinner yet?” Xie Lian asked, only to receive a shake of Hua Cheng’s head in reply.

“I was waiting for you to eat together.”

There was a twinkle in Xie Lian’s gaze, shimmering brightly in the pools of affection those eyes. His lips parted, to perhaps say a word of thanks, of love, when a sharp shrill wail tore through the roof.

Having been totally immersed in his lover’s return, Hua Cheng was caught off guard for a rare moment. Stepping back to hold him at an arm’s length, he finally observed Xie Lian properly. A white sling was slung over his shoulder and a small bundle was peeking out from his shoulder. Head full of light coloured hair, snowy white cheeks stained with tears, but his eyes, threatening with unshed tears, were narrowed into horizontal slits. Hua Cheng couldn’t help but return the glare with a smile, uncaring and unbothered that it lacked any trace of warmth. Other than the addition of this un-cute baby, Xie Lian still wore the same clothes he did today, even down to the flower he tucked in his hair.

But this baby wasn’t crying, so who was?

“Your highness! I can’t do this!”

A brow arched high over unsmiling eyes when a whole other cries penetrated the walls of his Paradise manor as he watched an extremely dishevelled Quan Yi Zhen run inside with the crying bundle in his arms, a baby sling also slung across his chest. His robes were askew, collar drooping low across a shoulder, teasing tanned skin peeking through and his face was the exact painting of horrified panic.

If Hua Cheng wasn’t disturbed earlier, he was now. His glare turned colder and colder the closer Quan Yi Zhen approached, dishevelled and also carrying a baby. It can’t be theirs, could it!?

“Please! Take him! Take them all away!”

“What’s wrong, Qi Ying?” Xie Lian smiled, his head peeking out from behind Hua Cheng who suddenly shifted to stand before him. The taller man raised an arm, his long sleeves blocking his sight while he pointedly stared at the exposed skin. Quan Yi Zhen followed his heated glare and in a flurry of further panic, he pulled his robes up to quickly at least right himself. Once satisfied, Hua Cheng lowered his sleeve without another word but the frosty aura emanating off his body was undeniable. Xie Lian obediently stepped out and stood next to him, one hand shyly holding onto his, and the masked killing intent diminished just ever so slightly. Just slightly.

“Qi Ying? What’s wrong?” Xie Lian asked again, returning his attention back onto the Martial God of the West. “You’re doing pretty well with children!”

“No! I don’t think so! He keeps crying! They all are!”

Xie Lian felt Hua Cheng stiffen, the fingers in his tightening their hold, and he turned to look. His smile faltered at the sight, one end of his lips falling and the other twitching. ‘If looks could kill, Qi Ying would already be dead ten times, no a hundred times over.’

Hua Cheng smile widened until his one eye narrowed into a crescent moon. Two babies? No. There was more. Outside. Was it theirs? No. It couldn’t be. ‘Ge wouldn’t do that to me.’ His mouth was pressed firmer into a straight line. ‘But ge ge loves children. He must want them…’ A throbbing sensation began to pound at his head, the pent up frustration and stress releasing itself as a sigh from his lips while he used his free hand to rub at his head. His shoulders were stiff, muscles so tense. Maybe he should have married ge ge and immediately tried having a kid. There should be child-bearing pills still in Ghost City!

“Maybe he’s hungry?” Xie Lian suggested thoughtfully. “It should be dinner time! Bring the others in first.”

Quan Yi Zhen turned around, eyes watery and threatening to fall. Oh, he hated this. He’s not good with babies! “I only know how to fight!” He wailed as he ran back out.

Xie Lian tugged at their interlaced fingers and averted his gaze bashfully when Hua Cheng turned his head towards him. “I hope you don’t mind, San Lang. I brought them over without your permission.”

He sighed yet again, but the knot in his heart wasn’t undone, still painfully clenching and clawing at his insides. “It’s alright, ge ge. What’s mine is yours. You can do whatever you want here. No need to ask me.” The words had to crawl out of his mouth, through stiff jaws.

Sneaking a glance at the ajar doors, Xie Lian hurriedly tipped onto his toes, pulling slightly at his hand and briefly kissed him on the lips. “Thank you.”

Hua Cheng squeezed his hand in return, silent and accepting of his fate.

Quan Yi Zhen came back soon after with Ruoye. The white silk was extended and expanded, tying itself to every baby there was just so they could be transported, and there were hundreds. With Xie Lian never in the Heavenly Court and Quan Yi Zhen (now regrettably) without any helpers in his palace – though they might be turned to babies too –, they could only resort to such a crude way of transportation. At seeing the sight of a cloud of babies swarming into the main hall of his manor, Hua Cheng was stunned into dumbfounded silence, shaken to the core.

‘Ge ge wouldn’t have had this many hidden babies, would he? Adopted? His own!?’ He quickly shook that thought away. ‘No, I would have known!’

Ge!

He cried pitifully in his heart, though his outward expression never changed.

“Fuck! Why’d you bring us here!” a voice cried out, breaking Hua Cheng out of his trance. His eye twitched at the familiar sound, that familiar character.

Feng Xin?

“Feng Xin! You can speak again!” Xie Lian rushed over to Quan Yi Zhen, seeing the baby on his back.

Ah, it was Feng Xin.

Hua Cheng swept his eyes over the screaming babies, taking note of their different robes, their hairstyles… He then looked at the glaring baby on Xie Lian’s back and a mirthless chuckle escaped when it connected.

Mu Qing?

The baby rolled his eyes.

Mu Qing.

Hua Cheng relaxed at the thought that these babies weren’t Xie Lian’s at all. Just some annoying insects turned more annoying.

He flashed baby Mu Qinh a grin, full of teeth and sharp canines as a murderous gleam flashed in his eyes for a split second. Baby Mu Qing was shocked for a moment before his face fell, cheeks trembling with eyes wide in horror.

Oh, shit.

“Waaaaaaaahhh!” Xie Lian jumped at the sudden wail from baby Mu Qing when he was conversing with Feng Xin. It was tremendously loud and shrill, sobs wracking his little body. Xie Lian expertly shifted the sling so that he could cradle baby Mu Qing properly, bouncing on his toes in calming the baby down, but as though on cue, the remaining Heavenly Babies started crying louder, red chubby faces stained with snot and tears.

Frowning, Xie Lian finally turned to his stock still lover.

Catching his gaze, Hua Cheng smiled, finally feeling better at the thought that these weren’t Xie Lian’s babies after all. Just some annoying pests that multiplied. “What’s wrong, ge ge?”

“Could you lend a hand, please?”

“Sure but I don’t think the Heavenly Babies will appreciate that.”

“It’s alright. I’ll deal with them later.”

Hua Cheng hummed lowly, crossing his arms across his chest. “Hmm, we’ll have to baby-proof Paradise Manor, you know.”

“I know. I'm sorry. It’s just too difficult to manage them all in the Heavenly Court and thought here was better. Is that okay?”

Despite saying that, the man in red interpreted his words differently as a teasing smile graced his features. “San Lang is honoured that ge ge misses me so much.” A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “But do I get something in return if I help?”

Xie Lian blinked at their unexpected proximity. Their bodies were flushed together, the arm cladded in red tight – possessive – around his waist and the other hand was caressing his pink cheeks. Baby Mu Qing was still held firmly in his grip, crying even louder at the sudden shameless public affection, as though he was showing his utter displeasure at his previous master being so smitten with the demon. His eyes glazed over at the thought of their current position; Him in his lover’s arms in a tight embrace with an adorable baby in his arms between them while in Paradise Manor. Was this what it meant to have a ‘home’?

Baby Mu Qing turned around in Xie Lian’s hold, though albeit difficult, he managed enough to push at Hua Cheng’s chest with his chubby little fingers. His desperate cries filled the air and Xie Lian wasn’t sure if it was because baby Mu Qing didn’t like being sandwiched between affection or he just didn’t like Hua Cheng.

“Y-You… Uh…T-Tonight…” Xie Lian shyly looked up at Hua Cheng. What could he give him? There was nothing the demon didn’t have; every antique of every rarity, odd artefacts and beautiful art, and the one thing he could give… His eyes darted towards the cloud of babies where Quan Yi Zhen was trying to pacify every single one of his baby colleagues. Hua Cheng’s gaze followed his before they were averted back to his lover’s flushed cheeks. A knowing smile stretched his lips, a heated desire suddenly pooling in his body.

“You gotta use your mouth, ge ge. Or I wouldn’t understand what it is.”

Xie Lian’s blush deepened at the double entendre, burying his head into Hua Cheng’s shoulder. “But the babies…”

“Are babies. It’s fine.”

Xie Lian took a moment to respond but when he finally decided on the words…

“Ahhh! Your highness! Won’t you help!”

Xie Lian was jolted awake by Quan Yi Zhen’s plea and an idea spun in his mind. “San Lang, do you think they can drink cow’s milk?” Only because they couldn’t possibly kidnap new mothers or wet nurses and force them to feed the Heavenly Babies. Feng Xin especially might truly die on the spot.  

Hua Cheng hummed thoughtfully while crossing his arms. “It’s possible. They aren’t true babies after all. Just grown adults turned babies.”

“Oh, good! Do you have some here?”

The devilishly handsome man merely arched an eyebrow. “We’re in a city of ghosts. I don’t think we have milk here.”

“I’ll go get it!! I’ll go! Let me go!!” Quan Yi Zhen cried in the background, having eavesdropped on their conversation. At his tears, the babies were spurred on to cry louder. “Why do they keep crying!”

Xie Lian hurriedly left his lover’s embrace, gently taking a pouting Feng Xin from Quan Yi Zhen. “Alright. Make sure to buy lots!”

“I want fried chicken!” Feng Xin called out of nowhere.

Both adults: “…”

Feng Xin, “What the fuck? Who said babies can’t eat fried chicken?”

“…”

The thing was though, we haven’t said anything.

Feng Xin was about to swear up another storm when his first words died in his throat, unhappy gurgling escaping his mouth instead. Upon noticing his predicament, tears started to pool in his eyes and baby Feng Xin proceeded to summon a wailing storm.

“They must be really hungry. Hurry up and get some milk.” Xie Lian then sighed mentally.

Quan Yi Zhen gratefully took up the task and bolted out of the manor, leaving behind his crying colleagues with no remorse. When he left, Xie Lian turned to sigh again at the crying babies still tied securely by Ruoye. Some were beginning to quiet down, too spent to cry anymore before turning back to Hua Cheng with the two babies in hand. “Were you contacting someone?”

“En, just calling for extra help,” he smiled while dropping his arms to his side.

Soon, a new figure appeared in the room, silent steps bringing in a familiar handsome face into the room. Surprise flashed over Xie Lian’s face as he waved for him to come over with a grin. “Yin Yu! You’re alright!”

Yin Yu bowed his head in greeting, though Xie Lian caught the faintest trace of a smile lingering on his lips. Ever since that incident with Jun Wu, Yin Yu had only been an empty shell without a soul, and he knew Quan Yi Zhen had been trying to help him recover, but –

“You succeeded!”

“Mm, we did. We finally found his soul,” Hua Cheng stood behind him as they smiled at the quiet former Martial God of the West. “Just in time as well.” Unwilling to dwell on the topic any longer, he immediately ordered, “Can you start baby-proofing the manor? As you can see,” he swept an arm out at the tear-stained babies, “Your old colleagues are a little… occupied.”

Confusion danced in his peach blossom shaped eyes, sharp and dark that were curtained by falling ebony locks. Truly a silent handsome man. He bowed his head in acknowledgement at the order.

“I’ll help!” Xie Lian exclaimed, thrusting the pair of old acquaintances into Hua Cheng’s arms.

The demon stared down at the babies who silently stared back up at him. He, the feared Crimson Rain Sought Flower, one of the Four Great Calamities, an infamous Devastation-class Demon in the Ghost World, a Supreme Demon King, also lord of Ghost City! ...Was now reduced to a mere babysitter. Of Heavenly Officials no less.

“Cry and I will drop you.”

“Do it. I dare you,” Mu Qing huffed with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh, so you can speak?” Hua Cheng raised the baby higher when a gurgling baby Feng Xin was patting his face while slung on his back. “Stop that!” But baby Feng Xin only exploded into a fit of mumbling giggles.

“Yes, I can,” Mu Qing rolled his eyes again.

The air between them was thick, heavily laced with an unshakable dominance. Hua Cheng’s fingers gripped tightly onto him, contemplating to actually drop him or not. Mu Qing’s face let out a smile as victorious as a baby could do when an evil grin slowly spread across the Demon King’s shadowed countenance, a bright orb gleaming.

“What are you doing? Don’t you – Ahhhh!”

A rush of wind blew in his ears as gravity mercilessly pulled him down, uncaring if he was a baby or not.

“Ahh, oop!” A low chuckle sounded at the back of Hua Cheng’s throat as he quickly caught onto the dropped baby, taking dark satisfaction at seeing the pale face, panic stricken Mu Qing. Baby Feng Xin was saying incoherent words, his slaps getting harder as though he disapproved of his actions. “Stop that!” Didn’t these two hate each other?

At his anger, Mu Qing’s jutted lips started to tremble, eliciting a wave of panic through Hua Cheng.

“Oh no. No. No no no -!”

“Waaaaaaahhhhhh!”

“Arghh…”

“…Waaaahhhhh!”

“Not you too!”

‘Why are they tag teaming on me!’

Hua Cheng grumbled under his breath under the tag team assault by his old acquaintances, crumbling under the pressure. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Stop crying.” Just as he said that, as though the pair of generals had colluded beforehand, they simultaneously paused their crying, the reprieve extremely short and fleeting, because they then proceeded to rub their snot-laced faces against his exquisite crimson robes.

Hua Cheng: “…”

Unbeknownst to Xie Lian of the battle of dominance, he was working hard with Yin Yu in baby-proofing the manor by first wrapping up the corners of the furniture. Next to him, Yin Yu was tearing strips and strips of old cloth, passing them to him to bundle up and press against the corners while Yin Yu then tried tying it to the furniture. When that was done, they pushed the table in the hall to the side and then proceeded to remove every sharp object in the main hall, every ceramic and glass items displayed while also taking off the decorative cloths that were laid across the tables where small grabby hands could potentially grip and pull, and cause mayhem. Got to save his lover from suffering a loss after all!

Xie Lian walked past a slightly panicking Hua Cheng with a tower of goods in his arms, perfectly balanced and on steady feet, towards the side room with Yin Yu close behind with a smaller tower of items. The Supreme Demon watched in horror as Xie Lian went walked away silently, sparing not even a glance at his poor husband (to-be!). Baby Mu Qing and baby Feng Xin snickered, each patting either side of his cheeks unhelpfully.

When Xie Lian walked back into the main hall, he noticed the softer cries and the faint resemblance of peace in Paradise Manor. Yin Yu stood quietly behind him, watching the now sobbing babies warily.

“Maybe we could get something to fence them in?” Xie Lian suggested.

“I think we have some wood leftover from when we were building the garden for QianDeng Temple. We could use that,” Yin Yu offered.

“Let’s use that then.”

At the sound of their voices, Hua Cheng immediately yelled, running up to them with behaving baby generals. “Wait! I’ll go!”

“Oh, it’s too much work, San Lang. I can do it,” Xie Lian said.

“No, no. It’s not a trouble at all. Let me help too, ge ge.”

Xie Lian hesitated, thinking that it was probably better Hua Cheng did do it. The man was better at carpentry and housework than him. “All... right. Then I'll look after the babies.”

Hua Cheng passed the babies over to Yin Yu, eliciting a confused response from Xie Lian. He smiled a smile void of mirth. It was more strained, laced with absolute relief. “Then I'll go make a fence. But before that, I think you need to eat something first.”

Xie Lian cried out in surprise when he was suddenly picked up and disappeared in a trail of silver butterflies. Back in the kitchen, he was already seated on a smooth lacquered chair. In front of him was a plate of steamed buns, still warm to the touch.

“Eat first, ge ge.”

Despite not having a mortal body anymore, he would still eat food from time to time, a habit he couldn’t really forego, especially if it was Hua Cheng’s buns.

“Will you eat as well?”

Hua Cheng took a bite of a steamed bun. “Yeah. Does it taste good?”

“It does! Of course, it does. Anything San Lang cooks always tastes so good.” Xie Lian was beaming, grinning wider with every bite of the bun, almost moaning at the taste. Flavours tickled his tastebuds and he quickly ate another.

A deep black eye watched him wordlessly, the dark depths sparkling bright in the dim kitchen, slender fingers lifting the bun to his lips slowly while he savoured the moment. It wasn’t long after that Xie Lian stood up in a hurry.

Hua Cheng stood up too and popped the remaining bun into his mouth. A hand then raised, fingers cloaked by a napkin and gently wiped the sauce soiling the corners of Xie Lian’s lips away. Folding the napkin, he patted down on his lips, alluringly red and captivating. He watched silently, time seemingly congealed at that moment as the hand holding the napkin froze near the cheeks. The lips pressed tightly together in a relaxed manner and parted just as slow and antagonising, glistening lightly with the sleek moisture of his saliva that he could just feel its caress upon his own.

A burning desire erupted from within, the heat burning at his skin. A pink tongue crept out, slowly tracing the bottom lip before sneaking back in and a fair finger tilted his head up by the chin.

“Like what you see?”

A deep whispered murmur, warm soft breaths kissing his parted lips. Their noses touched, strands of stray locks sliding down their cheeks in a tease. The finger fell to trace the muscular neck with just the gentle dip of a dragonfly’s wings, the same tongue stretching out to lick at his bottom lip and the distance between them shortened. Pearly white teeth replaced the tongue, nibbling and sucking, when the mouth tugged itself into a satisfying lopsided smile at the sharp fingers digging into his waist. Waves of lust trailed a blaze in his body, pooling deep in his stomach with a hard presence of arousal. All traces of sanity and logic melted into a puddle. An almost animalistic growl ripped from his throat, the vibrations clear under those fair fingers resting upon his neck.

And then he dove in, overwhelmed by the heavy wave of possessive want. He moulded their lips together into a familiar rhythm of tongues thrusting slick and wet, biting and sucking fervently in desire, when hands suddenly pushed lightly at his chest, forcing them to part.

Hua Cheng gazed down at Xie Lian, eye glazing over in a primal need at the sight of swollen lips, redder than before and slick with his taste.

“The babies –”

“Can wait.” Hua Cheng’s voice was no longer the smooth, gentle tone, warm and charismatic. It was deeper, low, demonic. A reminder that his lover was anything but a human; a demon that could wreck him.

Hua Cheng growled, “Don’t go.”

And then he pulled the smaller male up, bruising their lips into a deeper kiss, rougher with teeth grinding and saliva dripping down the corners. Pale large hands grasped onto the silky dark locks, pulling at the hips until there was not even a gap between them, until he made sure his lover was aware of the hard desire he had on him, the pure unadulterated lust sinking into his soul.

Xie Lian whimpered when Hua Cheng tore himself away from his mouth, mercilessly tugging and sucking at his lower lip; a returned treatment for before. His hand impatiently yanked at the collar, exposing fair skin under the shadows. His fingers curled, digging deep into the body as he sunk his teeth into the flesh, biting and sucked hard, leaving a trail of bruises down to his chest, next to fading love marks of days before.

“Ah, ah... San Lang!”

A hand snaked up his neck while the other tugged at his hair, and Hua Cheng reluctantly released his mouth from the skin with a wet pop. His gaze shifted from his art when he felt the cold brush of wind against his collarbone. A gasp escaped his parted lips, breathy and heavy, when Xie Lian latched himself onto the crook of his neck, kissing, biting and sucking, before licking at them.

“Ge –”

“Mmm,” Xie Lian hummed, face painted with a furious blush despite the utter familiarity of the actions. His hands kneaded at the muscular shoulders, thumbing the sides of the neck in a slow, sensual motion as he kissed up his throat, licking away at the heated sweat that beaded upon that snowy white skin.

“Ge – !”

It was at this moment a sharp wail suddenly pierced their minds, shocking them from the passionate bubble that had enveloped them. They stared at each other, the cries loud and clear in the kitchen. Hua Cheng drank in the sight of a dishevelled god, of messy hair and swollen lips, sprawled across the dining table with exposed skin, the robes draping off his shoulder in a teasing seduction. Pride welled up in him at the love bites that trailed on his body, a display of that Xie Lian was his and his alone. To dirty and to love, to possess and devour.

And he remembered a time when he would have apologised for this.

But not anymore.

Leaning forward and blatantly ignoring the cries, he cupped Xie Lian’s cheeks and tugged him into another kiss, this time softer and gentler, filled with all the love he could possibly give, and the former crown prince drank it all in greedily.

“There’s going to be murder if they don’t shut up,” Hua Cheng growled when they parted, just far enough that his lips murmured the words against the other’s. The unsatisfied desire curled in his stomach, an agony he didn’t want to bear.

Xie Lian tugged at the braid with the red pearl. “You can’t, San Lang. The world will riot.”

“They can go to hell,” he grumbled, dropping to his knees and buried his face into Xie Lian’s lap, arms winding around that thin waist like a little depressed child.

“I promised you tonight, didn’t I?” Xie Lian kissed the crown of his head and stroked the hair.

“Really, ge ge? Weren’t you worried before?” San Lang tilted his head to pout up at Xie Lian.

Xie Lian lovingly caressed his cheeks, gently trailing his fingers down the forehead, to the black eyepatch and the jaw. “Yes, I promise. But you got to build the fence first,” he added quickly as an afterthought.

Hua Cheng immediately jumped to his feet, gaze twinkling in excitement. His hands worked to right his lover’s clothes, covering his bruised skin properly, though one peeked out from the collar. Xie Lian returned the gesture with his clothes. “I'll build the fence now. It won’t take long.”

With one last deep kiss with the symphonies of tears in the background, Hua Cheng disappeared from the kitchen. A smile lingered on Xie Lian’s face while he fixed his hair. Grabbing another steamed bun, he left the place as well.

Upon re-entering the main hall, he closed all the connecting doors and then looked back at Ruoye, patting the trembling, equally sobbing cloth with a hand. “Thank you, Ruoye. You've worked hard.”

The silk rubbed itself against his open palm, the cloth slightly damp and still vibrating as though it was aggrieved by its current situation. Majority of its body was covered in drool, snot and tears.

“It’ll be over soon. San Lang’s gonna be ready with the fence soon.”

 He really wanted to release them, but thinking how they'll run around the main hall where there were steps leading to the black jade futon with more dark wood furnishings decorated the area, he already felt tired at the thought. He walked around his colleagues, some uttering words amidst themselves with the short recovery of their spiritual energy, a mist of confusion and panic wafting like a predator. Until he spotted one particular baby. It was odd; one arm looked limp, seemingly broken while a leg was bent in a painful manner. What made it odder was the form changing: with every small puff of white cloud, it would transform into a girl, feminine features of large doe eyes, innocent and pure, with soft lips painted on a rounder face and a smaller frame, but when the clouds dispersed once more, there would be a baby boy, wielding sharper features with charming eyes and elegant eyebrows where a playful smile graced his lips.

Xie Lian paused. Did that baby have that much spiritual energy? Seeing the transforming baby brought about old memories of the former Wind Master and a forlorn smile appeared.

‘It would be great if Shi Qing Xuan was here. I think he’ll enjoy this.’

Bang!

The main doors to Paradise Manor unexpectedly slammed open and in came Quan Yi Zhen with a heavy sack on his back, the ends tied around his neck. Sweat glistened on his skin, streaking down his forehead to finally kiss the floor with a drip.

“Your highness, I bought all that I could buy.” He wasn’t even panting when he returned. “I tried finding more but the shops started chasing me out!”

At seeing his return, the babies had quietened down, staring at him with hopeful, teary eyes.

“We’ll feed them now.”

Quan Yi Zhen carefully set the sack on the floor, the cloth unfurling to reveal ceramic bottles upon ceramic bottles stacked atop each other.

“If it’s not enough, I can catch some cows!”

Laughter rang when an image of the martial god running in the fields trying to catch milk cows appeared in Xie Lian’s mind. “It’s alright. This should be enough!”

They grabbed a bottle each, uncorking it as they stared at the expectant babies. They stared back.

“Qi Ying?”

“Yes?”

“Do you know how to feed babies?”

“How am I supposed to know!? I thought you knew how!”

“I've never had to care for a baby before! A child, yes. But not... this.”

“I only know how to fight! Oh, no.”

Xie Lian looked over at Quan Yi Zhen trembling. Were those... tears? ‘Oh, gods and Buddha’s. Please bless us in our current...’ And his thoughts ended there.

Weren’t the gods sitting right there before him?

Xie Lian, “...”

“Ge ge, why are you standing there?”

Xie Lian spun on his heel, as though he just met his saviour. “San Lang! Do you know how to feed babies?”

“Ah,” Hua Cheng replied as he hefted planks of finished wood into the room with Yin Yu in tow, still fastened with the slings. Baby Mu Qing and baby Feng Xin were oddly behaving. Probably because of E-Ming’s presence whose lone eye was curved in a crescent moon in bliss. He settled the wood on the ground. “You'll need a feeding bottle to feed them. I should have one lying around. Somewhere...”

He started rummaging around the main hall, not finding it anywhere.

“Maybe in the side room?” Xie Lian piped up. “I did move a lot of your things there.”

Hua Cheng nodded and left for the next room, returning soon after with a terracotta bottle in his hand. It was fitted with a pouring spout, small enough for the babies and a handle on the side to hold. “Here, ge ge.”

“Thank you, San Lang. You’re a lifesaver.”

The compliment tugged at his lips. “It’s nothing. Just some trash that I picked up for fun many decades ago.”

Xie Lian took the bottle and quickly washed it thoroughly in the kitchen. When he came back, there was already a meter-tall fence surrounding the babies built in the main hall, boxing them in. He called out to Ruoye who happily flew towards him and wrapped itself around his arm whilst still shaking like a leaf. Whispering it a word of thanks and affectionately rubbing it, Xie Lian hurried back to Quan Yi Zhen who was cradling the milk bottles.

Yin Yu came over, sitting before Xie Lian and holding baby Mu Qing and baby Feng Xin in each arm, blatantly ignoring Quan Yi Zhen’s “Shi-xiong!”

It’s perfectly fine to play favouritism, right? His old friends get to go first.

Quan Yi Zhen carefully poured the milk into the feeding bottle with a pout at being ignored, which Xie Lian then held while his gaze darted between the two generals.

But who first?

Baby Mu Qing, seeing the hesitation, stretched out his little arms, gurgling in dissatisfaction.

Baby Mu Qing first it was.

Lifting the feeding bottle, Xie Lian carefully fed baby Mu Qing, his mouth latched onto the spout as the milk slowly poured out bit by bit while baby Feng Xin grumbled in dissatisfaction, swatting at baby Mu Qing while he fed. Periodically, Xie Lian would remove the stout so baby Mu Qing could fully swallow the milk before continuing until it refused anymore. Immediately after, Xie Lian repeated the same actions with baby Feng Xin. Of course, baby Mu Qing returned the favour of swatting him too.

When he was done, he noticed that both the generals were getting sleepy.

“Your highness, let me.” Yin Yu offered, taking the feeding bottle away from Xie Lian, who in turn took hold of both babies into his arms.

When Yin Yu stood up, Xie Lian said, “Oh, I forgot to wipe the stout just now. Remember to wipe it after feeding each baby.”

Probably shouldn't ever mention of their indirect kiss ever too, Xie Lian noted mentally.

Yin Yu nodded, walking away with Quan Yi Zhen in tow. Xie Lian began absentmindedly patting both babies on their backs as they leaned against his chest with chins on his shoulders.

“Ge ge, be careful. They might vomit on you,” Hua Cheng appeared and placed a cloth between the chins and shoulders while Xie Lian continued patting them. Almost as if on cue, baby Mu Qing and baby Feng Xin burped, bits of white liquid filled with bubbles escaping and falling onto the cloth. Hua Cheng carefully wiped their mouths clean as they descended into a sweet slumber.

He turned to catch Xie Lian’s gaze, full of tender love, and he leaned forward to peck his cheek before kissing him on the lips, lingering a little longer for that bit more of warmth.

And so the night went on.

Each baby was fed until they were all full, patted till they burped and cleaned, and they fell asleep all over the makeshift pen. Pillows, lots and lots of pillows and thick blankets were brought out to lay out on the ground, shifting the little ones until they were settled nicely and comfortably. Well, Yin Yu and Quan Yi Zhen did the work; Xie Lian was still stubbornly carrying the baby generals in his arms (since he doesn’t get this chance very often!), secured in the slings while Hua Cheng rubbed his back.

Most of the milk was used up, with only a few bottles remaining. The pair of Shi-xiong and Shi-di leaned against a wall, facing the sleeping babies with heavy eyelids. Taking care of babies tired them out even more than cultivating!

“Put them down, ge ge. You're tiring yourself out,” Hua Cheng whispered, hands expertly kneading at the shoulder blades and back.

“Just a little longer,” Xie Lian whispered back, tenderly staring at the sleeping faces. Their lips were slightly parted, their breaths soft with cheeks flushing a light pink. “They’re quite adorable like this.”

Hua Cheng, “I agree.”

Xie Lian turned his head to catch Hua Cheng’s gaze on him and whispered, “I meant the babies.”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. They are too I guess.” Hua Cheng nuzzled Xie Lian’s cheek with his own. “When am I going to get rewarded ah, ge ge?”

Xie Lian blushed at the tone of his whisper and the breath tickling his ear. Lifting a hand, he brushed a lock of hair behind his ear before resting it on Hua Cheng’s head. He kissed his forehead and gently said into the pale skin, “Alright then, San Lang. You'll have me whole night long. I am yours hereafter.”

Hua Cheng’s grip tightened and Xie Lian had to softly placate him to let go, but the man didn’t want to let go until, “Would you rather I bring Mu Qing and Feng Xin together with us?”

Hua Cheng froze at the thought.

As Xie Lian stood up, stretching his numb muscles as the blood suddenly found bigger pathways to flow, prickling his nerves, Hua Cheng mumbled under his breath, “I wouldn’t mind if it was our kid...”

“Hmm? Did you say something, San Lang?”

“No, no. I didn’t. Are you ready?”

Xie Lian fluffed one of the pillows and gingerly set the babies down to lie together. They squirmed a little at the lack of warmth, faces twisting to cry when they turned over into a comfortable position and snuggled deeper into the corner of the blanket he tucked over them. “Goodnight,” he whispered and stood up.

“Okay, San –” His words were swallowed with the flash of silver and he felt gravity pull at him as he was dropped onto the large bed in the bedroom chamber. The room was dark, illuminated only by the pale light of the crescent moon by the window. A silver butterfly fluttered, landing towards a candle and it abruptly burst into flames, casting a warm glow on their silhouettes.

With a chuckle, Xie Lian smiled and snaked his arms around Hua Cheng’s neck who slowly crawled closer like a predator, eyes sparkling with desire at its cornered prey; an unshakable pride. “Miss me that much?”

Hua Cheng growled at the teasing tone in his voice. With a knee between Xie Lian’s legs, he moved his head closer to his, trapping the man with his arms. Xie Lian tilted his head to receive the kiss, only to whimper in confusion when Hua Cheng continued on his trail to stop by the flower behind his ear. He breathed in, taking in the still sweet scent of the full bloom.

“You like teasing me, don't you?”

Xie Lian squirmed at the tone. Deep. Dark.  Demonic. A tone that promised a lot of things he could only fulfil in the bedroom, in their sanctuary; of unspeakable pleasure that burned every inch of his skin, begging, begging for that release, a release he’d receive on command.

A shiver tore through his body when expert hands began to undress him in a slow crawl, tracing the exposed skin with light caresses. There was a nibble on his ear before the lips dragged its tongue down the curve, stopping by the earlobe, licking and sucking. Equally slow. Equally torturous. Xie Lian moaned at the mix of hot saliva and cold caresses, his body flushing red at the treatment.

“San Lang...”

Hua Cheng shushed him, a hand moving to cover Xie Lian’s eyes, plunging him into further darkness as lips drew a blazing trail on his skin. His other hand sunk into the clothes, pushing them away and the fingers rubbed against the exposed shoulder, letting the robe fall off.

Xie Lian carefully raised his hands, feeling for Hua Cheng in the dark. At the soft touch of his robes, he then confidently let them roam, caressing the neck, his chest, the abdomen... until he felt the belt around the waist. Fingers tugged at the clothes, scrambling to pull it off when Hua Cheng removed his hand and instantly replaced it with a silk cloth, tying it behind his head.

“Why’d you stop? Did I allow you to stop?”

His voice was alluring, like a deadly flower that shines in the dark but poisons you at the touch. Addictive, seductive. Xie Lian shuddered, a gasp and a moan falling when teeth sunk into his neck, sharp canines scratching against the tender skin.

He moaned louder when a hand cupped his lower region, legs instinctively bending at the knees and spreading wider. He quickly unfastened Hua Cheng’s belt, letting the robes cascade freely. He couldn’t see, but he remembered every contour of that body, every small crevice and dips that his hands caressed, that his lips kissed before and when that body leaned into his, he could feel the growing arousal rubbing against his and his hips canted sweetly forward on reflex.

“We’ll take it slow tonight,” Hua Cheng mumbled near his ear, pulling his hips back and Xie Lian whines in slight objection, wrapping his arms around his neck. “No rush, ge ge. You’re mine tonight.”

Xie Lian raised his head and nipped at his neck, hands trailing down the spine and pushed the robes away, causing them to pool around the middle of his back, halting on their journey down by the sleeves on his arms. Hua Cheng pressed down on him once more, hips grinding against each other, causing Xie Lian’s moans to grow in number, crying for more before devouring the sounds with a kiss, forcing him into submission as their minds were lost in the wet slide of tongues and raw hunger.

“More? You want more?” Hua Cheng asked, lifting both of Xie Lian’s arms above his head and held it there with a hand. “Tell me.”

“I – I...” Teeth grazed against his neck, the canines especially sharp, kisses especially hot with the heightened senses. “San Lang... I-I want – nnngh...”

“You gotta use you mouth, your highness.”

Xie Lian could feel his smirk against his skin as his head thrashed left and right, panting at feeling the tongue trailing so close to his clothed erection where his other hand teased. His mind was in a haze, all he wanted was more, more and more warmth, for his heat to press inside him, to make him tremble and twitch. “I want you. I want you in me,” he breathed out, grinding harder, the increased friction causing small waves of pleasure to roll. Low chuckles sounded next to his ear and he whimpered at the absence of his body. A demand.

“Show me.”

In a surge of confidence dancing with lustful pants, Xie Lian’s tugged his hands out of Hua Cheng’s loosening grip and pushed at his shoulder, effortlessly flipping their positions. He closed his eyes behind the blindfold and calloused hands began to worship the man like the Supreme Demon demanded. He kissed those soft lips, drawing a line down to the defined jaw before scouring every inch of the body with practiced ease with wet licks while his hips rolled forward and fingers greedily kneaded onto the hard muscles.

Hua Cheng watched with a heated desire in his gaze, the feral lust burning hotter the more he kissed, the more he marked; The lower he went.

“Your highness...” he moaned and arched his body into the touch massaging his still clothed erection.

They faintly registered the sudden crack of tears wailing in the night, a distant cry lost in their hazy passion. And they continued without a pause.

Xie Lian’s lips paused at the hem of the pants, the musky scent assaulting his senses while his hand continued massaging the hard muscle, an uncomfortable desire pulsing in his arousal. His hands spread to the side, sliding down the smooth skin to his bottom while he bit onto the hem, tugging it down.

“Waaaaaaahhhhhhhh!!”

A sharper, louder cry shook the walls, shocking even Xie Lian. The man jumped in fright, releasing his hold and touch on Hua Cheng, head swivelling around to stare at the direction of the main hall.

“I'm going to murder them.”

“No! San Lang, don’t!” Xie Lian hurriedly yanked the blindfold down, ignoring it as it rested on his collarbone and turned back to Hua Cheng. His consequent words died in his throat, suddenly dry and parched. The devilish man himself stared back, silky raven strands cascading before his face, the murderous aura sharp and overbearing. He was still lying on the bed, only upright with his elbows where the layers of crimson and white robes pooled halfway down, revealing skin of snowy white that trailed down to the lowered pants, the erection partly clear and glistening for him to see. From where it hadn’t dried were sleek shimmers of his saliva having tasted the sweat on the skin and traced the contours. The scene brought shivers down his spine, the desire for the man growing, hard and uncomfortably strained in his pants. It was a dark seductive picture, where the man in focus commanded an unyielding power, holding the pride he carried for countless deaths on his hands while holding the wanton desire for only one man.

Hua Cheng glowered him, inattentive to the worship shining in Xie Lian’s eyes, his frosty aura causing the temperature in the room to drop by tens of degrees. His own gaze was instead locked on his lover’s body, counting every mark of his he placed, the messy appearance of drooping robes filling his murderous one. His. It was all his.

And he wanted to consume, take it all in with the feral desire snapping back and forth, but –

Xie Lian climbed back onto the bed, slow and careful, catching the one eye with his as he did. He straddled the man, nestling his ass onto the erection and leaned to kiss the tightly pursed lips, coaxing them open with gentle nips and sucks of his lips. Hua Cheng responded immediately. A hand flew to grip Xie Lian's hair, harshly pulling him down to deepen the kiss. Hua Cheng shifted to fully lie back down on the bed, arm snaking to grope at the raised round ass and Xie Lian followed in acquiescence, shifting higher and closer. The room was filled with breathless moans and unsatisfied growls as lips mashed in perfect harmony, with the battle of tongues and relentless dominance.

Nails dug deep into fair skin, marks riddled the pale skin. Their hands roamed wildly, the fire burning in them steadily growing.

“Waaaaahhhhhhhh...!!”

The one dark eye snapped open, the dimmed killing intent flashing with renewed thirst when his partner froze in the kidd. The feral growl rumbled deep in his chest, the vibrations running along Xie Lian’s skin and into his nerves when the furious man pulled away and wrapped his arms around him in a tight possessive squeeze. “I'm going to fucking murder them.”

His erection pressed uncomfortably in his pants, aching for that pleasurable comfort, but the crying grew in volume, shattering the passionate haze they created.

Xie Lian dropped his head onto the bare chest with a dejected sigh. Even he suddenly lost the mood for a sex filled night. While absentmindedly drawing circles with a finger on the skin, he snuggled into the embrace and muttered, “I'll go see what’s wrong.”

“No,” Hua Cheng growled, squeezing him tighter.

Xie Lian didn’t reply, tacitly understanding his lover’s raging bloodlust. Instead, his finger continued to draw circles with a pout, sensing the rise and fall of his strong chest. Ghosts didn’t need to breathe but he had realised later that the man still held the habits of when he was alive, of calming his bloodlust with controlled breaths for when he couldn’t kill. Pretty cute, if he was being honest.

“Ge ge,” the voice was strained and Xie Lian hummed in a questioning reply. “Let’s not have babies.” He quickly corrected, “Let’s get married but we’re not having babies.”

Xie Lian couldn’t help but laugh at the request, the mirth a sparkling magical powder that eased his desire for blood, for murder. Scooting up to nuzzle Hua Cheng’s neck, he breathed out, “Yes.”

Hua Cheng quirked a brow and glanced down. “Yes to marrying me or yes to not having babies?”

“Yes,” Xie Lian laughed a bellyful of joy, burying himself deeper into the embrace.

Hua Cheng let out a sound of confusion before finding himself infected with the laughter. He dropped the subject and kissed the crown of his head, murmuring, “I love you.”

Xie Lian preened under the affection. “Mm, I know. I love you too.”

They both pointedly ignored the crying, thinking that either Martial Gods of the West, former or not, could handle it. They lied there on the bed, robes still untouched and pooled on ruffled sheets, while basking in the silent comfort of their love.

That was... until a hesitant knock rapped against the door.

And the bloodlust instantly returned, sharp and piercing like the scimitar he wield. “You have to the count of three to explain!”

From the other side of the door came Quan Yi Zhen’s trembling voice. “I... I...”

“One.” He growled, low and threatening.

“Y-Your highness!”

“Two!”

“The babies aren’t hungry and I don’t know what else to do!” Quan Yi Zhen rushed the words out of his mouth in a string of panic.

Xie Lian could hear the tears in that voice and he looked up at Hua Cheng shaking with fury. “Let’s go see what’s wrong?”

Hua Cheng held his stare, unwilling to back down, but when those pair of red swollen lips, courtesy of him, jutted out into a wronged pout and large tender eyes blinking slowly at him, he found the feral instinct waning. He sighed with a grumble, tearing his eyes away and said, “Alright...”

And so, they stood up to make themselves proper when Hua Cheng stripped him bare, peeling the robes off his body with such care that made Xie Lian flush. He was left in only the pants that hung low on his hips. “San Lang?”

“You’re not going out like that,” he growled lightly before simply grabbing a pair of his own robes and Xie Lian quickly looked at his robes, scanning over the material when he caught the holes riddling his robes. They were torn by the sharp nails, strong fingers, forgotten in their lust.

Hua Cheng then gingerly dressed Xie Lian in it.

With every layer, he would tease the god, his actions so flirtatious and sensual that Xie Lian’s cock twitched in anticipation. From licking his neck to trailing kisses across his jaw, cold hands would press into his muscles as the silk nestled on his body, running a delightful shudder in his body. When Hua Cheng was done, he stepped back to admire his work, the crying babies faint in the background. The Flower Crown Martial God that always looked heavenly in white was especially ravishing in that fiery red, burning brighter with the orange candle glow, reminding him of the night back at the mountain where his highness was dressed in the auspicious red wedding robes, a veil over his head...

Xie Lian chuckled, adoring the new look. The robes were slightly long, trailing on the ground but they were soft, and he sighed happily when he breathed in, his senses filled completely with Hua Cheng’s scent.

After he helped right Hua Cheng’s robes, they walked out of the chamber and bumped into a whimpering Quan Yi Zhen by the door, hair messier than before and robes rather wrinkled. If he thought the red robes on Xie Lian were strange, he didn’t dare comment.

“They’re all monsters! They won’t stop crying!”

The esteemed martial god, a man of strength and confidence, reduced to... this.

“Hey now, I think real monsters might be offended by that,” Hua Cheng smiled.

“Crimson Rain Sought Flower, I'm not joking! I rather take ten of you on than babysit babies ever again!”

“Oh? Are you calling me weak?”

Quan Yi Zhen hurriedly backpedalled. “N-No! I'm not! It just means I rather get thrashed by you!”

Hua Cheng snorted, placing an arm around Xie Lian’s shoulders as he led them out. “Then a one of me is enough. No need for ten.”

Quan Yi Zhen nodded his head in eager agreement and followed them like a puppy while Xie Lian shook his head helplessly with a smile.

Out in the main hall, Yin Yu was frantically trying to placate the babies but they were having none of it, throwing whatever pillows they got a hold on at him. Despite being babies, they were still heavenly officials of their own right, and those martial god’s pillow attacks hurt.

“What's wrong? Weren’t they sleeping peacefully just now?”

“I'm not sure! One of them suddenly woke up crying and he wasn't hungry! He made the other babies start crying!” Quan Yi Zhen explained, having no shame in hiding behind the couple, head sticking out a little to glare at the small monstrosities of his colleagues.

“Show me.”

They carefully wadded through the throng of babies until they reached that one particular baby, surprising Xie Lian. It was that one baby that reminded him of Shi Qing Xuan, where an arm and leg seemed broken, and that theory held true. They were broken. The baby wailed and thrashed about, but those two limbs remained unmoving.

“Did any of them speak?” Maybe there were a few that had spiritual energy to use!

“No. I tried that too. All they did was cry and smother snot all over me.”

On that note, Hua Cheng pulled Xie Lian away and stood outside the fence, far from the snot-laced individuals.

“If he’s not hungry, maybe they want some toys?” Xie Lian pondered out loud, finding no fault in that action.

“I don’t have toys in my manor.” Hua Cheng frowned, staring intently at the baby.

“I'll... go up to see if there are toys for them then. They should have some things they like in their own palaces,” Xie Lian sighed. “Qi Ying, come with me.”

Going up naturally meant returning to the Heavenly Court. And so they did.

They scoured every inch of the hundreds of palaces, looking for things that won’t break or stab. It was easier for the literature gods, with smaller trinkets and pouches, but for the martial gods, it seemed like they all fancied their stabby blades. When they were finally done, the sun had already started waving from across the horizon, a small peek from the clouds and staining it pink before the colours darkened into warmer hues.

Yet, when the pair descended into Ghost City with sacks of toys, there was a distinctive lack of crying. The doors slid open silently and they were met with an unthinkable sight. The babies were all sleeping soundly and peacefully in the pen. Frozen by the door, dawn stretching their shadows long into the manor, Xie Lian and Quan Yi Zhen saw the gentle flaps of silver wings drifting across the babies, a cloud of shimmering light, tender and mellow in the darkness. Yin Yu sat by the wall, looking exceptionally tired and grateful for the reprieve. Xie Lian looked over to the man lying across the black jade futon, crimson robes spread across the furniture, a teasing smile on that handsome face and head held up by his knuckles. “Ge ge, you’re back. Welcome home.”

Xie Lian was filled with warmth at the words. Smilingly, he said, “Mm, I’m home.” The shared a warm smile, unspoken words shining in their gazes before he turned to the pen. “This…”

Hua Cheng smiled and gestured at the sleeping babies before him. With his higher position above the steps, he looked exactly like a father watching over his little minions. “Oh, this? It’s a little something I just learned just now.”

Just as he said that, a baby kicked his legs, squirming in his sleep and a sock slipped from her tiny feet. As though she was electrocuted by the sudden cold on her foot, the baby woke up, water immediately pooling in her eyes. She sniffled and sobbed, mouth falling open to cry when there was a rush of wind and a shadow crouching before her. Xie Lian and Quan Yi Zhen watched in amazement, mouth parting open, when Hua Cheng appeared by the baby and quickly put the sock back on. The baby, comforted by the returning warmth of its own sock, calmed and drifted back into sleep.

Hua Cheng stood up and walked over to his stunned lover, effortlessly taking the sack from his hands and slung it over his shoulder. He grabbed Xie Lian’s hand with the other and tugged him onto the black jade futon to rest. On the way, Xie Lian saw a large figure donned fully in black sitting in a corner, a small baby in his arms.

“Why is he…”

“I called him over to take care of his own mess,” Hua Cheng replied lightly.

“But…”

“That baby is your friend,” Hua Cheng laid back down in the same position on the futon, sack of toys on the floor and played with Xie Lian’s hair.

Xie Lian observed the baby closely. Really, only one person came into mind. “Shi Qing Xuan?”

Hearing his name being called, the baby with the broken limbs started to wiggle in He Xuan’s embrace and the Supreme Demon raised his head to glare at Xie Lian while he awkwardly tried to shift Shi Qing Xuan into a more comfortable position.

If he wakes up, I’m going to eat you. Was what Xie Lian felt from that glare, but he must have just been dreaming.

“Ge…”

It wasn’t Hua Cheng who spoke, no. Everyone had stiffened at the voice, so soft, so sad, so frightened that it tugged at Xie Lian’s heartstrings. He Xuan’s gaze was hard, body tense. He slowly retracted his glare and looked at the baby – no, the man he destroyed. Cradling him tighter, he brought the small one higher and placed his forehead against his, mutterings words under his breath with trembling shoulders, hoping that that could at least chase the nightmare away.

Turning his head back to Hua Cheng, Xie Lian frowned and buried himself deeper into his arms, softly mumbling, “How did Shi Qing Xuan turn into a baby? He wasn’t at the Heavenly Court?”

Hua Cheng hummed nonchalantly, listening to the declining voice while he twirled the hair between his fingers. “I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell. But he must have lent some spiritual energy to him in the first place.” Pulling Xie Lian closer, he led him to lie in his embrace and rubbed soothing circles on his back. “Sleep first, ge ge. It’s already morning.”

“Huh? Oh… but…”

Long fingers swept over his eyes and Hua Cheng hushed his lover while scooting closer and kissed his hair. “Goodnight, ge ge.”

There was no room for protest. An acquiescent caress of his voice, humming through to his heart. The main hall descended into silence. Silver butterflies still inaudibly fluttered above the babies with watchful eyes, the light almost a sweet twinkling in the dark before they gradually dispersed at the certain calm.

Quan Yi Zhen’s steps paused by Yin Yu, who peeked an eye open. “Shi-xiong,” he whispered, barely audible as though afraid.

Closing his eyes, Yin Yu relaxed against the wall and muttered, “Sleep.”

Seeing as he wasn’t avoided or thrown aside, Quan Yi Zhen happily took the seat next to him and laid his head against the wall, closing his eyes for finally a well-deserved sleep.

Outside, the blossoms danced, the field of flowers rustling, their petals twirling around the manor like a warm protection. The time passed by peacefully, the winds sang a tune of ease, of tender love and affection, of a moment of peace that they sought after a tiring day. Enveloped by a honey embrace, a ginger touch, or a heavy comfort past the years of suffering and pain misunderstandings, there was something beautiful drifting within the Paradise Manor, something that tugged at their lips in silent laughter.

Not a human, God, Buddha or ghost dared to disturb the peace that encased the hall, and it was when the sun rose past its zenith that a small whimper sounded. The blazing sun’s rays had begun to burn hotter, the air in enclosed in the hall boiling. With one cry, came another, and soon all there came groaning and complaints clicking across the room.

“The hell… why is your foot on my face?”

“Get off me! You’re heavy.”

“Ah… it’s so hot!”

Bleary eyes opened, some in confusion but mostly in annoyance.

“He-xiong!” A voice called out.

Xie Lian looked over at He Xuan’s direction, seeing an adult Shi Qing Xuan cradled in the ghost’s embrace. The voice might have sounded cheerful, but there was a tinge of sadness, a pain hidden in its depths. Shi Qing Xuan looked better than he did before, clothes a more refined cut, of cleaner fabric and his hair was combed neatly, unlike the nest when they reacquainted themselves. The other Supreme Demon shied away from Shi Qing Xuan’s touch, flashes of memories they shared playing in his mind.

Memories that weren’t his.

“He-xiong…”

Yet when he heard that voice call out a name, a name that was his, his tense shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, accepting of the touch Shi Qing Xuan laid on his arm.

Xie Lian’s attention was then torn away from the pair by the thundering clamour in the pen that was now destroyed and lying in splinters. Within the fencing laid all the Heavenly Officials, not as babies no. Long, fully grown limbs, large robes and sharper voices screaming at realising limbs of their colleagues strewn across their bodies.

“What the fuck! Why are you sleeping next to me!”

“Like I know! Who’d want to sleep with you!”

Xie Lian sighed as Feng Xin and Mu Qing broke out into a fight from having slept a little too-close-for-comfort next to each other. Horror drew on their faces at seeing the other’s face mere inches away before the first punch flew.

“Is it bad if I want to turn them into babies again?” he asked the man still leisurely holding him by the waist.

“Yes,” came the immediate reply as the grip tightened. His tone was flat, with no room for discussions, “No more babies.”

Xie Lian, “But they were quieter and obedient that way. We can’t watch them kill each other like this!”

Hua Cheng, “But I’d love to watch them kill each other.”

Xie Lian glanced at him from his lower position with a flat stare and in a vapid tone, he said, “Try again.”

The grin blossomed on Hua Cheng’s face, widening until it reached his eyes, ignoring the shrieking and fighting in his manor and he obediently said, “I won’t watch them kill each other.” And he then added, “But ge ge, you can’t possibly want babies, do you?”

“Why not? They’re cute.”

“They’re little demons.”

Xie Lian rolled his eyes. “And I’m in love with a Demon King.” Seeing Hua Cheng glow with pride, the man snuggled deeper into his embrace. “We’ll talk about it after our wedding.”

A loud crash thundered and there was a twitch in Hua Cheng’s smiling expression. He waved a hand and a silver butterfly flew out from his vambraces, zipping through the air and weaving through the noisy crowd in one straight line. Instantaneously at the sight of the silver stream, the hundreds of Heavenly Officials froze on the spot at vividly remembering just exactly where they were. Nervously, they all turned to the Supreme Demon King slowly. E-Ming that had been obediently staying calm by his side narrowed his eye, an aura of bloodlust consuming the Heavenly Officials.

“C-Crimson Rain Sought Flower, is - is there anything you want?” a braver Heavenly Official piped up, though his voice sounded more like a frightened squeak of a mouse.

None dared to lift their eyes to lay upon the king, or his queen in red beside him. At that moment, their strongest Heavenly Official was not their colleague, their friend, but the partner of the most feared Supreme Demon.

“If you’d like to help me plan a wedding, then stay,” Hua Cheng lifted his head to smile mirthlessly at the crowd, a hand moving to grip E-Ming’s hilt. He waved it in the air, inspecting its sharpness before looking at the officials. “Otherwise, scram.”

“Y-Y-Yes, sir!”

In a puff of cloud, the main hall was swiftly emptied, leaving only some behind. Hua Cheng turned to He Xuan who was no longer cradling Shi Qing Xuan. “Why are you still here?”

“I’m hungry.”

Hua Cheng’s smile grew while his eyes narrowed further, “You still owe me.”

“No money. Ask me next time,” the Black Water Demon waved his hand dismissively.

Hua Cheng deadpanned before turning to the happy man in his arms. “Are you hungry?”

Xie Lian smiled at the whispered breath. “Mm, I am.”

“Alright. I’ll call for a feast,” he said while ignoring the indignant splutters from his fellow ghost.

Shi Qing Xuan grew excited. “Can I join!?”

Xie Lian laughed and replied, “Of course! Qi Ying, you stay too.”

The younger man nodded his head a few times, his curly locks bouncing with the motions. “I’ll stay if Shi-xiong stays.”

“Idiot, I live here.”

“Then, I’m staying too!”

After calling for a feast, Hua Cheng glanced down at his lover in contentment. “Now,” he thumbed a petal of the flower that somehow stayed tucked behind Xie Lian’s ear, “Where were we? Oh, yes. Our wedding.”

Xie Lian’s skin tingled blissfully when soft lips kissed his forehead.

“Ge.”

He burst into giggles when Hua Cheng nuzzled his cheek. “You haven’t even proposed!”

“Ge ge.”

Hua Cheng smiled and moved to his nose, pecking it lightly before rubbing it with his.

“I love you, your highness.”

The words teased his lips in a warm breath, stunning Xie Lian stupid as his ears grew redder. Hua Cheng kissed his eyelashes tenderly.

“Every part of you, every inch. I love them all.”

Cupping a cheek with his hand, the icy touch a blissful tingle upon Xie Lian’s warm skin, he rested his forehead against his.

“For better or for worse, I will be here for you. Let me love you in this lifetime. And the ones after that.” A shuddering caress grazed upon Xie Lian’s skin and he thought he might have seen a faint silvery trace of a tear cascade down his cheek, but ghosts couldn't cry, right? He cupped Hua Cheng’s face into his palms, hoping the slight reciprocation was indicator enough that he still wanted him – wanted Hua Cheng – as he continued to listen to the deep voice with an open heart.

“In my heart, there is only you. There can only be you. I want to protect you. I want to see your smile and wipe those tears everyday. Please –”

“Will you –”

He then kissed each cheek, one word for each, and Xie Lian felt the same slight tremble against his skin. Of fear? Of rejection? But his thoughts ended there when those same trembling lips covered his own, breathing out a proposal barely audible over the beating of his heart. “Marry me?”

Xie Lian took those hands into his, equally shaking like the lips he just tasted, and kissed the knuckles, before he bubbled with laughter, joy overflowing in his heart. His arms wound around Hua Cheng’s neck and he pulled the man down for another proper, deeper kiss. 

“For all of my lifetimes, I will always choose you! Yes!”

The kiss sealed their fates, the red robes they wore a beautiful ornament against the black jade; A painting of their wedding to come. The red string tied on their fingers was a silent reminder of all the bitter partings they survived, yet also a gentle welcome towards a new life, equally filled with courage and bravery and silent protection, never to be broken.

Ink, jet black ink that curved and danced with the grace of brushes penned their names, a stamp they couldn’t erase – wouldn’t erase. They were of two different worlds, a stark contrast of white and black, yet they blurred the lines together, finding a soothing comfort in knowing they had found someone in this life.

He might have been born as pure as the colour white, heavenly and holy, but shadows had gripped and latched onto him like relentless demons, yet he maintained his kindness – even if it was because of a single one.

He might have been born as a calamity as the colour black, misfortune and sacrifices his only friend, yet his heart remained pure of gold – even if it was only for a single one.

Because were they not born humans like a blank white canvas who learned to paint in black with every decision in life?

#hualianweek2k19 #fluff #domestic bliss #babies #HEAVENLY BABIES #hualian #slight beefleaf #fengqing #i got diabetes writing this #tian guan ci fu #天官赐福

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ahtohallan-calling · 5 years

Text

chapter 8 of love is the only thing we can carry with us (kristanna slowburn/angsty but cute/no magic au, rated t) is up!

next chapter // all chapters

“About time you got here!” she called, laughter in her voice. “It feels like I’ve been waiting for hours.”

He came to a stop just as he reached the peak of the hill. “Well, if you’re going to be like that, I might as well turn around and go back…”

“Don’t you dare!” she ordered, no longer able to restrain her excitement as she flew off the porch and ran to him, flinging her arms around his waist.

Stunned, he stood frozen for a moment before hugging her back, pulling her close against his chest. Surely she had to hear the way his heart was ricocheting off his ribcage, the way his breathing had quickened, but if she did, she didn’t care.

“I missed you, too,” he whispered, feeling her arms tighten around him in response.

“Are you sure you feel like going up there, Kris? You still look pretty gross to me.”

“I’m fine, Olaf.”

“I’m just saying, you seem pretty pale and weak and stuff. I would get back in b–”

The boy’s protests were cut off by a shriek of glee when strong arms swept him high off the ground. Olaf whooped as Kristoff set him on his broad shoulders with a grin.

“Do I still seem weak now?” he teased.

Olaf clapped. “Do it again! But flip me this time!”

“Even I have my limits, bud. But you can stay up there while I finish getting my stuff together.”

“Okay!”

Kristoff hummed to himself as he finished filling up his satchel with what he might need for the day. His lips curved into a soft smile as he picked up the mug Anna had loaned him, running his thumb gently over the rim, wondering if she’d ever used this one herself, if her mouth had lingered there.

“Kristoff! I have a question!”

Startled, he nearly dropped the mug. “Olaf, you really don’t have to shout all the time.”

“Yes I do. Just now I had to say your name two times before you listened.”

Kristoff sighed and carefully began wrapping the mug in a spare rag and tucking it into the satchel. “What is it?”

“Can I go with you?”

“Not this time. You’ve got to help Grandpapa, remember? You’re helping him run errands and then going to talk to Gothi about taking over my job.”

“But I thought I was the new helper.”

“You are. Just sometimes…I don’t know, if something happens with Anna, and Grandpapa can’t go, then he can.”

“Why can’t you just do it? I thought you liked her. If you don’t like her, then why did you send her so many letters?”

“Why do you ask so many questions?” Kristoff asked, reaching up to tickle Olaf until the boy giggled and clambered down, running into the next room to escape the torment.

In truth, he and his grandfather both knew there would be little need for Gothi to actually do anything. Anna’s condition had been improving to the point that she no longer needed to be kept under a watchful eye every day, so long as she continued following Grandpapa’s advice, even when it meant choking down little vials of sludgy brown medicine.

For the long term, the outlook was still bleak, a thought that still felt like a punch to the gut every time it crossed Kristoff’s mind. But for now, Anna was well and whole as she could be, and after a week of being cooped up indoors with a particularly nasty cold, so was he. And he was going to see her again, because he had promised– because she wanted him to.

Unconsciously he ran his hand over his pocket, where he’d put the letter she had sent with Olaf yesterday. Yes. I can’t wait. See you tomorrow. I’ve missed you.

He didn’t know why he was holding onto such an unimportant note; it was a grubby little piece of paper, clearly written in a rush, smudged with dirt from where she’d been working in the garden with Olaf. He knew what it said, so he had no need to re-read it, though he had done so at least half a dozen times.

He heard a small cough and looked up to see his grandfather leaning in the doorway, wearing a look of concern that was starting to seem permanent. It hadn’t budged since Kristoff had burst in saying he couldn’t take care of Anna anymore. He’d spilled it all out to his grandfather, explaining how he’d found Anna weeping outside in the storm, how they remembered each other, how it was starting to feel wrong to accept payment from the queen to take care of someone he considered a friend– and how he was starting to fear his affection for Anna might cloud his judgment.

He had talked so long– unusual for him– that his grandfather had insisted he stay the night, which had turned out to be a blessing in disguise when Kristoff had woken up the next morning burning with fever. Even then, Grandpapa’s frown hadn’t been quite as deep as it was now.

“Thanks again for letting me stay here,” Kristoff said, shouldering his bag.

The old man nodded slowly. “I’m your grandfather. I could hardly throw you back out into the storm shivering with fever and hacking up a lung.”

Kristoff started for the door, but his grandfather didn’t move; instead, he held up a hand. “Are you sure about this, son? I worry about the harm it may cause.”

“We talked about this yesterday, Grandpapa. We’re going to go really slowly, and I’ll watch her, and we’ll turn back the second she starts having a hard time. It’ll be okay.”

“I wasn’t talking about the princess.”

Kristoff shifted uncomfortably where he stood. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. “We’re just going on a walk.”

His grandfather nodded, stepping aside. “Be careful, all the same,” he said, and Kristoff, feeling a sudden burst of affection, leaned down to hug him.

“Always am, aren’t I?” he said, hoping he sounded cheerful, as he pulled away and headed for the front door. “You be careful, too. Don’t let Olaf steer the wagon, no matter how much he begs.”

“I’d sooner jump in a frozen lake. That would be a lot less foolish.”

—

Summer was finally coming to the mountain. For weeks it had teased them with the promise of an early-ending spring, giving them sun-drenched afternoons that faded into chilly twilights and cold winds that crept through windows that had been cracked open for the first time in months. But June was just around the corner, and the whole world was fresh and sweet as the wildflowers that wavered in the breeze. Kristoff had left his outerwear at home, wearing only a loose blue shirt and rolling up the sleeves so he could feel the warmth of the mid-morning sun seeping into his bones. A feeling of contentment settled over him like a cat curling in the windowsill for a nap, and he found himself smiling as he climbed the hill and the cottage came into view.

His smile broadened when he saw Anna waiting for him on the porch, bouncing slightly on the tips of her toes as she waved. “About time you got here!” she called, laughter in her voice. “It feels like I’ve been waiting for hours.”

He came to a stop just as he reached the peak of the hill. “Well, if you’re going to be like that, I might as well turn around and go back…”

“Don’t you dare!” she ordered, no longer able to restrain her excitement as she flew off the porch and ran to him, flinging her arms around his waist.

“I missed you, too,” he whispered, feeling her arms tighten around him in response.

They stood that way for a while before Anna untangled her arms from around him and he reluctantly let go. “Sorry,” she said, color flaming in her cheeks. “It’s just been, uh, really quiet around here.”

“Are you telling me even Olaf wasn’t enough to keep you occupied?”

She laughed. “After a while, all his questions sort of fade into background noise. But I hope it gave you some relief to send him up here so much. Are you feeling better now?”

“Definitely.”

Her eyes lit up. “And ready to take me on an adventure?”

“Of course. But here–” he said, digging in his satchel and pulling out the carefully wrapped mug. “Might want to put this up first.”

She took it with a grin and headed for the kitchen. “Did it help?” she called over her shoulder as he followed her in.

“Yes. Even better than Grandpapa’s medicine.”

“Oh, god, I think anything would be better than that,” she said with a theatrical shiver as she replaced the mug in the cabinet. “Before we go, do you need me to get anything? Or I can help you carry your satchel if you need a break, or…”

“Actually, I forgot a blanket. Would you mind grabbing one for us?”

She nodded excitedly and darted into the living room for the now-familiar plaid blanket. He grinned after her; he hadn’t forgotten at all, but he had long since realized how much it meant to her to help out, even with the smallest things. The blanket would easily be light enough for her to carry it all day without getting tired– and besides, he was starting to feel attached to this one.

She came back with it folded over her arm, practically vibrating with excitement. “Okay, I’m ready. Where are we going?”

He led her outside, holding the door open for her and laughing when she clumsily curtsied in spite of her cargo. “To one of my favorite places. It’s not far, but we do have to walk since I don’t have Sven today. Tell me if you get tired, okay?”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve spent so much time cooped up indoors laying around like a lump, I don’t think I’ll ever get tired again.”

He led her down the hill, making sure to take the least steep path down the slope, and then veered to the right, towards a gap between two oak trees. “Watch where you step. There’s a path, but I haven’t been out here since last fall, so I don’t know how clear it is.”

Normally, he could have easily made the hike in twenty minutes by walking at a clip and scaling the small cliff that blocked the way, but none of that was possible with Anna in tow. He found himself not caring in the slightest, relishing her little gasps of excitement each time she sighted something new and wondrous and paused to examine it. That was the benefit of taking the long way around; it meant more time with her, and it meant there was no risk of over-exerting herself– the incline was slight this way, and there were ample opportunities for her to stop and catch her breath without embarrassing herself by having to ask.

That was what he’d told his grandfather the day before, having carefully chosen this spot and planned out his argument over two days spent in bed in between dozing off and listening to Olaf chatter on about everything that floated through his mind.

Anna, for once, was almost quiet, blue eyes wide with wonder as she drank it all in. Kristoff found himself wishing he could see his world through her eyes, meet the mountain and its hidden treasures for the first time all over again. “Kristoff, this is the most amazing place I’ve ever seen,” she breathed, examining a butterfly that was sunning its wings on the side of a tree. “I could stay here forever.”

Then stay, he thought. “Just wait. We’re almost there.”

They turned a corner past a copse of trees, and Anna gasped, her hands flying to her mouth so quickly Kristoff barely had time to catch the blanket as it fell. “Is– is this real?”

He laughed. “I hope so. Come on.”

He led her into the glade, feeling a sense of pride as she stared, speechless. They were near the banks of a pond that shimmered an unearthly blue, the color of water that had once been part of a glacier. It was past midday, and the sun sparkled on the surface of the pond, as if stars had fallen there and decided to linger. Beneath their feet was a field of tiny purple primroses, which Anna was doing her utmost not to crush.

“Do you really like it?” Kristoff asked, suddenly nervous.

She nodded furiously. “Oh, this is going to the top of my happy ever after list.”

The ground was still damp from the last remnants of spring rains and melting snow, and so he led her to a small boulder caught between shade and sunlight that rose almost to his height. “Need help climbing up?”

“I can do it,” she said, already scurrying towards the smaller rocks beside it and clambering up.

He grinned. “Well done, feistypants.”

Once she was seated, he found a foothold on the side and hoisted himself up with ease. To his surprise, when he glanced at Anna again, her cheeks were pink.

She cleared her throat. “So, anyway, while we’re on the subject, did you ever think of yours?”

“My what?”

“Your happy ever after, remember? I told you mine ages ago. Now it’s your turn.”

He pondered it for a minute. He’d given the idea thought for a brief moment here and there, more out of boredom than anything else. But now, with a sense of peace warming him even more than the sunlight, he thought maybe he had an idea.

“I think mine would just be…being here as much as I can. Just enjoying all of this,” he said, gesturing vaguely at the view.

“That’s it?”

“Well, it’s all I’ve got.”

“No big house or piles of money or beautiful wife?”

Why were his cheeks suddenly burning? “I– I mean, if that stuff happened too, it would be nice. Probably, anyway. But this is all I really need.”

She tilted her head, examining him, before nodding in approval. “Then it counts. Congratulations, Kristoff Bjorgman, you’re officially part of the happy ever after game.”

“Is there a prize to win?”

“It’s not that kind of game.”

“Then it’s not a game, is it?” he teased, and she stuck out her tongue.

“What’d you bring in your bag?” she asked, already pulling it open to see for herself.

“Sandwiches. I thought you might be–”

“My favorite!” she exclaimed, pulling one out. “You remembered.”

“Lucky coincidence,” he lied. “Just the easiest picnic food to pack.”

Anna was already tearing into a ham sandwich, looking distinctly unprincesslike. Kristoff unwrapped one for himself, and they ate in companionable silence, enjoying the warmth of the day as it thawed away the last of winter’s chill.

After a while, he glanced over to see Anna leaning forward, elbows propped on her knees as she rested her chin on her hands. She noticed him looking and waggled her eyebrows. “Like what you see?”

For a single moment, neither of them dared to breathe, and then they both burst out into laughter. She sat back up, leaning her head to rest on his shoulder as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Without hesitation, he put his arm around her, hoping that he seemed just as casual.

“I really did mean what I said in my first letter,” Anna said, a touch of shyness in her voice. “I wanted to thank you for everything you did for me.”

“It was nothing, really,” he began, but already she was shaking her head.

“I mean it. For all the stuff you did for me since I came up here. And– and for playing with me when we were little. It still feels so crazy that it was you I’d been wondering about for all those years, and I didn’t even realize it at first.”

He swallowed hard. “Well– you’re welcome. What are friends for, huh?”

She nodded, and he squeezed her closer for a moment, wishing he had words to tell her that he wanted to thank her, too, for making him laugh more than he ever had, for making him see the world with new eyes, for reminding him that there was more to life than making it through one day after another. He glanced down in time to catch her yawning. “Ready to go back?” he asked gently.

“No. But maybe we should. I think napping on this rock would be a recipe for a sore neck.”

He laughed and jumped down from the rock, landing with ease. With a sudden gleam in her eye, Anna scooted forward. “Catch me!” she called, already pushing off from the rock.

Kristoff did, eyes wide as she landed in his outstretched arms. She patted his chest and clambered down, already heading back towards the path. “Give me more of a warning next time, eh?” he called after her. “What if I’d dropped you?”

“I knew you wouldn’t,” she called back.

He knew it then, that it was hopeless; maybe it always had been.

He followed after her like he knew he would for the rest of his life if only she would let him.

They chattered the whole way back, about the trees and plants and animals that made this forest their home; about the silly things Olaf had said and done over the last week; about the sunflowers Anna had planted in his absence and how long it would take them to grow. At some point, the path grew a little steep, and Anna stumbled; Kristoff offered his arm, and she took it, not letting go even when it evened out again.

The sun was only barely beginning to set as they emerged back out onto the main path and turned for the cottage. To Kristoff’s surprise, there was a carriage out front, a large, dark green one, hitched to two white horses. Anna let go of him then, darting up the hill and calling, “Elsa! You came!”

He followed more slowly, trying to give the sisters a moment to catch up. For a moment he debated simply turning and slipping away, but he saw Anna gesturing at him as she explained something to her sister, and the queen turned to look at him with that cool, heavy-lidded look of appraisal. Anna disappeared inside for a moment; he was close enough to hear her tell her sister she was putting on the kettle for tea.

Kristoff cleared his throat, turning to the queen, but she cut him off.

“You and I have much to discuss, Mr. Bjorgman,” she said. “I’ve come with quite a few questions, but they can wait for tomorrow. Tonight I’ll spend with my sister.”

“I’ll take my leave, then.”

She caught his elbow before he could turn away. “A moment, though, Mr. Bjorgman,” she said, her tone amiable though her eyes flashed icy cold. “I appreciate your efforts in caring for my sister. But I fear you have forgotten one thing.”

“What would that be, your majesty?”

“Your place.”

With that, she turned away from him in a swirl of skirts, entering the cottage and closing the door firmly behind her.

#WHEW LADS if this has typos i'll fix them in the morning bc i should have been asleep an hour ago #ENJOY PEAK OBLIVIOUSLY IN LOVE KRISTOFF #my fics #litotwccwu #cw: chronic illness

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