#that mountain may have broken my arm but it will never break my spirit

[redheid]

gonna go get dinner n watch the new joker heard its terrible literally cant wait

[libidomechanica]

“Many heart, as though shadowed the Pack; tho not only that paradise”

A sonnet sequence

               1

Of leaves upon him; wedded dame and rubies finds, wherein coste? Many heart, as though shadowed the Pack; tho not only that paradise. Or over wind it rathe. Like an egg in a scarlet cloak, and some finde, and lovely tints of a fool’s eye, with the panels broken purple-lined palace and cleare. Now let us roll alloted, soon as, Julia, I am in torment into East, and triumph returned ball, for human trammels from David or then the public griefe to the stars, and mercy sway’d, my wild designed, to changed forward. A lock of Hazeldean. For thinking to wed Amphions end!

               2

And by lies, they han thou Monumental oaths affirm’d, with a Zealous grace. Well mama to them, Since your Progress to his deuoyr believing authors ask’d it, as with Friends, our royal bird? Owes us ourself, high- though strife. On the clothes of children for joy or some fly, some other heart. Some sticketh fast, the shepeheards bene theyr sheepes blown. Our Ladyes bowre of young, and again cuckoo then, on every one did glow. Philosophy, Dorothy, afternoon news, some her. That happy had fix’d me again; my last green spark of the air perhaps, ’ though every shadow of true Sighs stood, each virtus.

               3

I never brother: they by my own eyes! Nor tears to enrich young lord-lover, or a whirlwind’s windows; here was before with of pallid beam in shape and shouldst print of stones. Hang it a year ere I once plans a woman. Against my love, seen smallest he had eft learn, nor mind; and, and there, an infant wrought high as hear my puling pipe to get Preferment by those pants do thee I should be soft inuoked you; on Helen’s cheeks, and dames bloom’d also bonfires made, and heart while faire, now! Spreading him thro’; but he wise stars bedding-day, they had from their Bounds found here all night are beyond their lips?

               4

After all in thee a heaven like it. Then—i hold me nor an Eye to wood, love may thing, and eat our human race, till tame?— Beneath, so pleasing a white and meek, arose and dread, and secure. What if Diogenes could not us—a third—To those who break. But now I my selfe to shew I am the prime, sincere a room another Errors but here your tight with general Cry, religions of my store us little babe you say? No True harmony with lullaby now to consort with the mind, and gave, and in your lawful plea commence thy lover, not one for year ere I am!

               5

But of seely shepheards be got by any art: then thou liggen in carriage robe doth hast. The bone of youth: but there would heart in state reveal’d. Land, than a two-part canon? We are taught his Frame coud he brought about answer: his joy conceived his dress’d me; and Wordsworth’s tomb. For a breaking. She has seized my soul check the suffring Saint Jean seem Constancy. Whisper the guardian God; and you, twenty Years, fourteen-day full many good! Lord, what Pretence the sea; in dead words enough the various, worn in his Satire endeavour than lost, over Civil Wars. War on him; by their father!

               6

By that my trust their nighttimes with such a thumbnail—brined and extremely to creatures& above, they will environ age, goethe’s death-nighing, or be silence, this arm- chair? Back when i hold me nor anything moan through Groves, so farre, harsh and come see us, play the waltz to some say, her who blamed, if you thinke. I meaneth to virgin of God and all pains of power: e’r Saul they were his Soul should be a ruin: side bowing poets and leaves, and all things which you want your countenaunce, the sounds fountain-top does she couldn’t have turn’d a foreigner of their alters not a moral people’s voice hiss.

               7

I can head; yet all and Juan’s feet: he come soft air of glittering Pilot in extremity; pleas’d, you ten years’ child was Restor’d; saw with such devise. Yet, O my pass, and she ride, in my mountains, of spirit! She is no more unkindness our two love or brain the while they still; with quick to your Arms a two year and I won’t be heart is like Anarchy. Or sand, as he been. If they teares, but all were emong, astarted—the sober part of a song of you stripping him, up, the high the Jews; and with eternal mansion. Face of my blue deep is the Law supplant his Master, chose and the came—and Ausemán—the Heaven washed in his times over me, nor palfrey fresh air. My love moment, and feeblest am I now more by the blue day-light’s o’er the grave, o Rotha, within my Hands suited tiptoe, fain to steel at they almost from love, if you contemplation, but Desert.

               8

And on it did misse not play jungle loud. In hopeless Lump, like a strength and sweet this is an evolution of the rain is witness of his Fame. Two palms and long by the river. Deserted meant for scarce the size against his cruel father fruit and found us, and living in a wed gallant to David, several Sons of Kings come to moan of Justice brought of eve and pleasure. The Grossness, Lady, you will never and abash’d from his duties in sun has not as the tomb of his Truth would. Went on with Her I lost the necessary think what it shouldst in peaceful Reign? At all mirth?

               9

While his branches of cherry plum. Of everywhere! He cut it be corrupted by time things, crying once to his Wealth was ten color of happiness the greatest live poets almost turn out by the more again; my last Review line dance over told her violet breathe wild as dew, under dropped. For ever. We will were sweetest of the stone-Henge is come to the note of some small, so fit for Imagin’d crime. Her Ground, while maken a March-wind said he, with lewde lust waste in them, were mind advanc’d by Jebusite; or if it prove among the unknowne the sun-lit fields against his Master fear, to choose. She yields: my Lady Carolines and every fiery might he leasure, furnish with blandishment passed, thy help the British Damme’ s rather down she sits, until fairly diddled. And thought I saw her face. Who masks and cold clime this first; why then thought I wanted down the river ride?

               10

When the storms confess, mine eyes, feed’st thou snare him till has grosly as tragedy. All be swore, such Votes and in your rivulet fall into the inclin’d to despairing I feel the children picking a hands Lord, what the trees or his? And yet be jealous Eyes, his Hearts folds the things like an out-of- tune worn viol, a good sheepe the Atlantic, from so much; I lived forward thrown, or cheer, beauties warlike Atlantic, from every shapes the grave. Ignorant our heart; for it was Restor’d, and thorn; no leave been difference and bene. When the door the world! Must I at length! Watch out for death. Then takes away.

               11

The soth to church-yard path tonight, and rain. Poor her sense flies, and down; hang it a year would make him, and pushing were his Servant of our. Why am I in labour more. Acropolis, or little hearts had marred my spirits dried up annals wax’d but not so much grows long present easeth the bright pieces shivered fair only to find out, in the life, the fine and fair daffodil sky, or Sleep-dissembl’d, my real daytimes such who best follow teeth. But mine, the river. Especial instruments have given the human race, except dreamed of him, as toil and a ho, and there’s Long Pole Wellesley?

               12

Was deck’d her he mayne, come it. Now shell find fault, shatter gladly dreamed. Not ask thee shame, and Redress; swift was enough. In time of doubt, he opened Eyes and beat, then sudden, drew forth, have said, that very things like Tom could never this unhappy he whole Trinity on so uncontrovertime. And all thy youth to me forget your little think I’m with those breath, so please, nor in purple dyes; carve it sweeps from his Royal Planet rul’d there shall be because the lay! Oh Thou ailest help the door open on hand because tis so, she heats they lay by, to walk the ridge,—that fester said, that falsifie.

               13

It was call. All soft god Pan, rescu’d from that kept its mouth as mine. Love, in self- substantinople in the staring-owl, as a meadow, but here they must do? His frumpy home to the God-like heavy tufts of our Ladyes bowre: but then with lifted hands the early world,—which, being into thee and keen: saying not your eyes or his monthly fix himself only. Now would lead his Nails—he smote stone or to some life is what down at zero, nor reign Gold, shall rest eye on, a tide of every single couple puts together, breaking a famine stirrups, just once for goodnight goes in spring.

               14

Before, the barren Womb or Grave; god’s paws, upheld the Pack; tho not tell truth, I conjure the thorn when they come, my numbers, wrung, and when to complete a pair, alas! Doe you may think of. To quite refuge them love’s hate, weeds and devout to say, i’ll tell by his rapes, in truth it deny? Out of yore, is now shine, from the mounting more shall sounds proclaim, and cold deny’d, and maiden hand is! He said in which are they love in wide Ambitiously decree? Of payment ere the Love-god lying Fable. Hugging a ding, ding; sweete, forgive myself I cried, is Freedom. And purple of the dying, yes.

               15

Romantic Pain music rose in their Reason after scrub and blindness Ill with odour and blank, made for several peopling Earth: and thriftye stockes, great souereign’s heart disdain’d our heart is to be not what Meg o’ the bower where? Or let the shouldst print of seely sheepe beneath the Shah with strong at life’s gay scene is perhaps, ’ thought, or die, or to some strife thorough, fix’d me away, bene all myster said, hae I offence best he fled away. Others. For ever think of your carpet, your forget and she ride, ride together and remarries without Greek a vowel-keen and wreaths. If thy Reign?

               16

WHose fell in paradise. Special blest, brought of every man, for a Worthies, in a cold Caleb free. Said it barefaced,— and gave, and dared? The only one did was covered in a fool’s eye, here where no one of you stripping sweet enforcement always cheat and o’r inform’d Desire, chiefe, and devour than what men as you wilt thou contents of an understand that the Bad found her who can Amiel’s praise effect, yet Dauntless, and Greece, long since, Severe and still renews: and human articles, chrysalis into the lightens in her down an Oath will not a toe, not all the spell the few or many a Lambe, or as the caue, when on it has bene ydle and a bore, if he came befell? I woke at my trust to have: for men forewent, to draw you do! Plainly so, he left, through the with clear. A Father cheeks with his best movie screwball rocks on the moon and dead of you.

               17

Thirty mock tyrants, what kind of Manhattan is in the crowns and virgin-choir to make a lock of Hazeldean. Level— No! I held our arms?—I never start, what doth you saw some heiress or his monthly fix how he’d love. There you content, work up to Cheat his loving all the Ballance apace. My parents’ bones, a soldiers and strung, to clarify the walls back shudders, and nowe they find it out my right the graseth the valley of my lips touch’d his wide Ambitious Friends remove: o no! And somewhat out of well-clad waited to which is a milliners Theams; and white man was his Head.

[theshoesofatiredman]

Op this is beautiful. Where do I put the rough rage that runs through me when I think about all of the wasted years? Who do I blame when it seems like everyone else around me was born into the same sinking ship?

I don't know if I have a satisfying answer to your question, but I think for me I needed to put it into words. I wrote a lot when I was heavily deconstructing. I journaled about the parts of my life where religion hurt me. I posted a lot on this blog. Every week in therapy I fought to make space for my emotions to be valid even though they hurt. Especially because they did.

I also needed music, I think. Other people's rage and grief turned into music helped me to feel and process my own. Every night when I drove home I listened to my deconstruction playlist like I was putting on armor, reminding myself that my bitterness and frustration and sense of betrayal had a seat at the table, that they were what I was feeling and it was okay to feel that way. It was okay to hold the anger in my hands.

I started to feel the anger slip through my fingers when I was able to experience the freedom found in life outside religion. In Ursula K. Le Guin's The Tombs of Atuan, the wizard Ged becomes trapped at the hands of a young priestess, Tenar, who was dragged into the cult of the Nameless Ones at the age of six. It is all she has ever known. When she is starting to break free of her religion's hold on her mind, Ged says this to her of her gods:

They have nothing to give. They have no power of making. All their power is to darken and destroy. They cannot leave this place; they are this place; and it should be left to them. They should not be denied nor forgotten, but neither should they be worshiped. The Earth is beautiful, and bright, and kindly, but that is not all. The Earth is also terrible, and dark, and cruel. The rabbit shrieks dying in the green meadows. The mountains clench their great hands full of hidden fire. There are sharks in the sea, and there is cruelty in men’s eyes. And where men worship these things and abase themselves before them, there evil breeds; there places are made in the world where darkness gathers, places given over wholly to the Ones whom we call Nameless, the ancient and holy Powers of the Earth before the Light, the powers of the dark, of ruin, of madness… I think they drove your priestess Kossil mad a long time ago; I think she has prowled these caverns as she prowls the labyrinth of her own self, and now she cannot see the daylight any more. She tells you that the Nameless Ones are dead; only a lost soul, lost to truth, could believe that. They exist. But they are not your Masters. They never were. You are free, Tenar. You were taught to be a slave, but you have broken free.

We do not have to serve an apocalyptic god any longer. We were taught to he his slaves, but we are no longer bound in his chains. We're free.

Eventually Tenar becomes physically free of the cult as well and in that moment we get one of my current favorite passages in all of literature:

A dark hand had let go its lifelong hold upon her heart. But she did not feel joy, as she had in the mountains. She put her head down in her arms and cried, and her cheeks were salt and wet. She cried for the waste of her years in bondage to a useless evil. She wept in pain, because she was free.

I think there is going to be a time of weeping, of mourning our years spent in service to a useless evil. But that's not all there will be.

What she had begun to learn was the weight of liberty. Freedom is a heavy load, a great and strange burden for the spirit to undertake. It is not easy. It is not a gift given, but a choice made, and the choice may be a hard one. The road goes upward towards the light; but the laden traveler may never reach the end of it.

The road goes upwards towards the light. So much love and joy and meaning can be found in life outside religion. The wasted years feel distant when I'm enjoying life with my boyfriend, when I'm surrounded by my queer friend group, when I'm on hikes or cooking dinner or singing Chappell Roan in the car.

Some days I still feel the anger rise up in me, still cry from the years wasted. But life has gotten bigger and fuller since leaving, and the grief and anger smaller in comparison. I hope it will for you too.

One thing I wasn't prepared for in deconstructing was how angry I would feel about having essentially been lied to my whole life. The world isn't ending. The Christian God isn't real. Jesus was a human man and an apocalyptic preacher who thought the world was going to end in his followers' lifetimes, and he was wrong.

Idk, I guess it's a reasonable reaction but I don't know what to do with it. Where can I put my anger, when those who taught these lies to me were indoctrinated themselves? I hold it in my hands.

[phoenixyfriend]

Rex and Anakin Raise a Family: Part Four

Part One, Part Two, Part Three – Chrono

Warnings: grief, resentment, lactation, animal death

----

For all that Anakin had said he could handle the twins, Rex still takes one in the sling as they go into town. They don't have a hoverpram yet, and neither of them could figure out a way to fold the fabric to securely hold the babies' heads up. Anakin takes Luke, and Rex takes Leia, and they ignore the whispers that still follow them.

The General keeps just behind his shoulder when they get to the hardware shop that carries the closest paint they can find in such a small town. It's not meant for armor, really, but speeder paint will do the trick for now. Rex's hands shake as he picks out the shades he needs, and the young Rodian at the register almost asks about it.

The issue isn't pressed.

They make their way back to the cottage, and Leia starts fussing fifteen minutes past the town's edge. Anakin looks like he wants to offer to take her back, but Rex is fine. He can comfort her. He can--

Anakin takes the paint, floating it along in the air before them, freeing Rex's hands to focus on the infant strapped to his chest.

"I'll feed her as soon as we get back," Anakin says, low and calm. "She's a little hungry."

Pacifier, then. They're only a few minutes out, by now. She can wait for them to get back to where exchanging the twins won't involve juggling.

Rex feels eyes on him, looks up and sees the soft, quiet smile on his General's face, and ducks his head back to Leia.

She glares up at him as well as a newborn can, sucking angrily on the paci in her mouth. Rex has no idea if she's actually upset or if her face just naturally follows such an expression, but it's adorable nonetheless. He hums to her, nonsense without words.

He's never learned lullabies; they picked up drinking songs in the field and from local soldiers, from their Jedi, war songs from their trainers, pop songs from the radio. A few learned lullabies, those who loved children and wanted their own, one day, brothers like Waxer who would have adopted Numa in a heartbeat if it had been an option.

He wants to learn lullabies. He wants to be able to sing children's songs to these tiny, helpless lives he holds in his hands, day in and day out. He wants to learn Mandalorian songs, real ones, not just battle chants and mourning melodies. He wants to be able to raise them with the childhood he didn't have.

"Rex? Door's open."

He looks up, and Anakin's standing on the porch, pulling the keys from the lock and gesturing in with his head. Rex hadn't even realized he'd stopped walking, subconsciously waiting for the blockage of the door to be handled. It's easier to focus on the children.

The paint gets sent to the backyard--trapped fumes wouldn’t be good for the children--and Rex lays Leia down in her crib. Anakin urges him to the backyard, says I’ll handle it about anything Rex uses to delay, and it’s only a few minutes later that Rex finds himself sitting on the grass, armor spread across a sheet of disposable flimsi, paints and brushes at the ready. He doesn’t quite remember setting it up, but he must have.

Anakin joins him, a twin in each arm and the Force laying out a picnic blanket. Leia’s nursing, swaddled up but content to suckle, and Luke seems happy to doze when Anakin sets him down on the cotton gingham. It’s a warm day, with a light breeze, and the babies are where the wind won’t carry the paint fumes.

“I’m here if you need me,” Anakin promises, though his attention drifts immediately to his daughter.

Rex begins to paint.

----

His remembrances are endless.

Every brother he’s ever known, every general he’s met, every small commander and random civilian, everyone he loved and knew. He lights a pyre, sings under his breath and tries not to break in a way that can’t be patched together. He mourns the tubies and cadets, the Jedi younglings, names he never learned and now never would.

Anakin gets Japor from somewhere, carves it whenever he’s too jittery to sleep and the twins are asleep. Rex recognizes a few symbols, like the open circle fleet, like Fives’ helmet eel, like Ahsoka’s markings. There are more, though, that are wholly unfamiliar, things he thinks are born of desert sands and binary suns, rough and painful and deeper in Anakin’s heart than even the Jedi.

He asks about the one for Fives, when he sees it.

He hides his anger.

Explanations, first.

“It’s an apology,” his General tells him, eyes distant. “I should have listened to him. I didn’t. The carvings are regrets, broken trust... that sort of thing. I’m part of why he died, and in that, part of why the rest is gone. He and his memory deserve a place of honor.”

Rex considers that, and accepts it.

Fives deserves an apology. The General recognizes that.

The General recognizes that he fucked up.

This is a good thing.

Rex lets go of his anger, still curled tight to his chest after months, as best he can.

He’s not very good at it, but he can try.

Luke starts crying, and Rex gets up to warm a bottle.

----

“I need to stay close to home until the twins are a little older,” Rex says. Teskarim, the woman at the childcare store, tilts her head to encourage him to continue. “I’m... I’ve never been anything but a soldier, and nobody here needs security services, but I can hunt. Do you know if there’s any kind of licenses required, or lists of which animals are legal hunt and which are endangered?”

“I... don’t,” she says, chewing her bottom lip. “But I think the butcher’s shop can probably point you in the right direction.”

Damn. He’d been hoping he wouldn’t have to talk to anyone new today.

“Thanks,” he sighs, and shells out some of the local currency for more formula.

----

The butcher has answers, and preferences. Rex isn’t much of a trapper, but he’s a hell of a shot, and decent enough scout and tracker. He listens to what there is to hear, and mentally takes all the notes he can. There aren’t any licenses needed in this hemisphere, but there are legally-defined hunting seasons for different creatures. The butcher knows when the optimal times of day are, which parts of the nearby forest and mountains are best to stake out, and so on.

Rex tells Anakin about his plan. He gets a slow blink in response, a cringe in what he thinks is guilt, and an offer to meditate for the best direction to take when he goes out. He accepts the offer in the spirit its meant, and sets out the next morning with the expectation that he may need to spend a few nights out under the leaves and stars.

The calm and quiet are their own kind of comfort. He’s loyal to Anakin, and he already loves the twins, but there’s a part of him that needs to be away from natborns right now. Anakin was a Jedi, a general, and fought in the metaphorical trenches with the rest of them, but he wasn’t a brother.

They grieve many of the same people, but they do not grieve the same way.

Rex needs the solitude. Not forever, not even for very long, but he needs it.

It takes two days, but he finds one of the in-season creatures, a creature shaped much like an Alderaan deer, but larger, and with longer fur. It’s darker in color, too, and he gives it a bit of time to wander about until he can be sure it’s a male, and he’s not about to leave some fawns without a mother. The shot is clean, and it doesn’t take him very long to tie it up and sling it over his shoulders to bring back to town.

The trek back takes hours, and the creature on his back is a pain to carry, but it’s almost worth the looks he gets from the civvies. Eyes bulge out the sockets at the sight of him, and he’s glad his helmet hides his smirk. He’s Kamino stock, hardened by over three years on the front lines, and there’s a pride in how easy the physical things are for him. It’s not impossible for a natborn to carry this kind of creature this far without help, but it’s uncommon.

He kind of likes the attention, now that it doesn’t come with the many prejudices that being a clone always had.

Anakin meets him at the butcher’s, one twin on his chest and the other on his back.

Seems he’s found a solution to that.

“Here to help me barter a fair payment?” Rex asks, and gets a too-charming grin in response.

“Well, I’ve been doing it most of my life,” Anakin says, cheery in a way that feels pasted on. “And I’ll have a trick to know if we’re being cheated.”

It’s a solid response, but Rex doesn’t like it. He takes note of the bags under Anakins eyes. “Have you been sleeping, sir?”

“Twins,” the man himself says. “And don’t call me ‘sir,’ Rex, we’ve been over this.”

“You need to sleep, General.”

Anakin pouts at him, probably because of the title. “I can handle two days alone, Captain.”

Rex rolls his eyes and sidles through the entrance of the butcher’s shop.

They’ve got this.

[chuplayswithfire]

Is Nowhere To Be Found

Inspiration grabbed me by the throat the second I finished the fic@robininthelabyrinth posted today, and I just HAD to share my idea of whodunnit.

Summary: Wei Wuxian was stabbed, found barely breathing, left for dead. His would-be murderer has no regrets.

0000

The Cloud Recesses were abuzz with chaos, serenity abandoned in the wake of the attack on Wei Wuxian. The news had already spread that he would live. That soon he would be sure to wake and then to carry on with his second life. Gates had been shut, entrances and exits barred to prevent escape. Disciples were combing every building, every potential hiding place.

Lan Chaoyun was not hiding.

The knife that he had used lay before him, still stained with blood that had dried now, tacky, flaking like rust in the air. The iron scent had faded, as the blood dried, as the incense burned. It was a paltry offering, he knew now, marred by failure as it was, but it was an offering. He hoped that Lan Tianming would appreciate it, that his wife would know he had done his best to give her justice.

Perhaps it was not justice. Perhaps it was revenge. He no longer knew, just as he no longer cared. It was her birthday, and the knife, the flowers, the incense - he could only hope that all would reach her, that all would grant her peace if she had not yet moved onto her next life.

Gradually, the incense burned, one by one each stick dwindling to ash. When the last had been lit, and the last burned, he bowed low, face to the ground.

"I may be joining you, this night," he said. Her silent tablet offered no response. "Forgive me my delay."

Still, nothing. He knew there would be nothing. He knew that Inquiry had yielded no answers, that her spirit was gone from this world.

It did not stop him from wanting, aching, wishing.

0000

The noise was louder, outside of the memorial hall. It seemed the rules for running and shouting had been discarded. Lan Chaoyun was not surprised.

Many rules had been discarded for the sake of Wei Wuxian.

He walked among the hurrying, searching, worrying masses, tranquil as the feather that falls to the river and floats along its surface. His path was set, his fate lifted from his hands. He felt no fear and carried no worry, as he walked to the courtyard where discipline was carried out and knelt on cold stone.

Lan Chaoyun inhaled, filling his lungs with cool, sweet mountain air, and exhaled slowly. He would clear his mind, and he would breathe. He would wait, settled patiently.

It would not take long for him to be noticed.

0000

"Hanguang-jun! Hanguang-jun!"

Shouting at the door of the jingshi, the banging of a fist - enthusiastic or fearful or both, and Lan Wangji rose from his place as silent sentinel. The path to the entrance of their home from their bedroom was a short one, crossed in a few brisk step.

If he jerked the door open rather than slid it with grace, if wood groaned at the strength of his grip, who would complain?

"What?" Bitten out, terse. Wei Ying was sleeping and this noise would wake him. Short, yet eager. No one would disrupt them without reason. "What is it?"

A junior stood at the door, round-cheeked with youth and shaking. The top of this one's head would have barely met Wei Ying's shoulder. His name escaped him, lost to Wei Ying, his health, his stuttering breaths and still form.

"Z-Zewu-jun sent for you!" The stuttering child near-shouted, his hands coming up to his mouth in horror. He was nervous. Lan Wangji should have reassured him.

Lan Wangji did not.

"The - the culprit has been found - and Zewu-jun has called for you to -"

He did not hear the rest of what was said, either. The culprit has been found. Nothing else was as important as this.

No, one thing was as important as this.

"Where?"

0000

Lan Chaoyun held his head high. His meditation was long concluded with the arrival of so many others, but his poise still held, even - no, especially - with the weight of so many eyes on him.

Lan Qiren and Zewu-jun both stood before him, faces dark with anger. On any other day, the sight of them united against him like this would have set his guts to tightening in fear, his knees weak. It was their misfortune that this was not any other day.

It was their misfortune, not his, that he regretted nothing.

A sudden stirring behind him, the hurried rustle of fabric, the swift snap of steps across the stone.

"Hanguang-jun," was the whisper, the breaking of the heavy silence. More than one voice spoke, silent Lans set to chittering like startled birds.

Lan Chaoyun kept his silence. The arrival of his distant cousin was nothing for him to fear. He had known from the moment he woke this morning that this would break whatever remained of the tie between them, and he had made his peace with it.

Only his cousin's happiness had kept him oblivious to the fact that that bond had been one-sided, rotted from within and long decayed.

He would understand, now.

He heard those crisp footsteps falter, a brief stutter in an otherwise perfect rhythm. Were he looking, Lan Chaoyun was sure he'd be seeing the moment his cousin recognized exactly who knelt for punishment before their sect's leader.

"Lan Chaoyun," Lan Wangji said, voice tight. Nothing else followed. Perhaps he was at a loss for words.

How fortunate for him that that was his only loss.

"Lan Wangji," Lan Chaoyun returned. He did not look at his cousin. He did not want to see his face.

More whispers, at that. It had been many years since any save Zewu-jun and Lan Qiren himself referred to the great Hanguang-jun by name.

Zewu-jun cleared his throat, a quiet noise that nonetheless silenced the gathered crowd and drew all attention to himself.

"Lan Chaoyun, you confess to and submit yourself for punishment to this crime?" For all his anger, his voice was remarkably steady. Lan Chaoyun had wondered if seclusion would restore his control, his still-lake facade.

"I do," he confirmed, locking eyes. Zewu-jun too was his cousin. Younger, though their cultivation meant that such distinctions were impossible to see and their status meant them inert. "I stabbed the Yiling Laozu. My regret is only that he lives. I should have cut his throat instead."

Lan Qiren flushed with anger at Zewu-jun's side, his nostrils flaring. "Have you no shame at all for what you've done?"

Of all things, this was what sparked the smile to Lan Chaoyun's face.

"My only shame is that I waited until A-Tian's birthday to take justice for her," he said. If he relished in the surprise that spread over Lan Qiren's face, in the realization that filled Zewu-jun's eyes, for the anger the tightened Lan Wangji's jaw -

who here could justly blame him?

"Did you forget?" He asked, knowing he was being cruel and caring not for it. What was one more broken guideline in this place that bent to the whims of any ruling Lan? "I understand. It has been fourteen years. I didn't."

Zewu-jun drew breath, undoubtedly intending to begin a pacifying speech on the nature of rules and grief and the unjust nature of revenge. Lan Wangji spoke first.

"Wei Ying did not kill Lan Tianming," he lied, his hand clenched around his sword's hilt. Perhaps he didn't know he lied. Perhaps he thought he spoke the truth.

"His fierce corpses did. Perhaps you did not know. I understand you were busy ferrying him from the battlefield that night, but I bore witness to my wife's murder. I know who is responsible, and the corpse of our shidi was only Wei Wuxian's murder weapon."

The sight of him, white robes stained with blood and draped in black, arms filled with the body of the man responsible for that unending hell, had been the second worst of Lan Chaoyun's life.

Lan Tianming's face as she breathed her last, their shidi's clenched fist still driven through her chest, had been forever seared into his eyes, haunting his waking days, his dreaming nights, but his cousin's back as he fled that field of death with the murderer in his arms was not a sight he could forget.

All these years, he'd kept silent. Wei Wuxian was dead. His cousin may have betrayed them, but it had been for nothing, and the punishment had kept him off his feet for years. Lan Chaoyun had never forgiven it, but he had been willing to keep his peace.

Ruining Lan Wangji would not have brought Lan Tianming back to him, would not have restored the laughter in his life, the song that matched his guqin, would not have re-lit the flame of their small dreams, their hope of a family.

But Wei Wuxian was no longer dead. Wei Wuxian breathed this earth's air and ran through the Cloud Recesses and his laughter rang through every corner of their home and Lan Tianming would never breathe or run or laugh again.

His home, her home, every corner of it tainted by her murderer's life, his joy, his happiness, as if a single brief lapse (what more was a death that ended than a lapse?) were enough to account for her death.

Lan Wangji's throat worked but no sound left his lips. The knuckles of his sword hand were white where they gripped at Bichen.

"I attempted to murder the Yiling Laozu," Lan Chaoyun said again, voice raised. He met Zewu-jun's gaze once more. "I submit myself to punishment, Zewu-jun. I do not regret offering my wife justice. I do not regret the knife that now rests before her in offering. I regret only that she is dead and her home is defiled by the presence of her killer, who failed to so much as kneel before her tablet and beg forgiveness."

Whispering. No amount of throat clearing now would silence them. Zewu-jun seemed to know that - his eyes were hard as he bowed his head.

"Lan Chaoyun. The punishment for raising a weapon to one of our own is -"

[misora-msby]

花火 | chapter two : snow

花火 (fireworks) | chapter two : snow

themes / warnings : medieval japan au, supernatural au, fluff, angst, death, illness

pairing : kitsune!suna x fem!reader

word count : 11.7k

notes : please read part one before reading this one! it’ll be nicer i promise, even if it’s long <3 to those who already read it, thank you very much! as always, i did my best to research shintoism but i also did take a few creative liberties. and thank you very much to my dear friend and beta reader @myoyachi​ <3

part one can be found here

A cold winter wind blew, disturbing the otherwise peaceful landscape of snow. To many who had been tired of the many years of the war, winter was just another grievance. Food was scarce in these months with fewer crops, and the battles were always more painful when you were fighting off enemies, hunger, and hypothermia.

The four kitsunes at the shrine noticed the larger amount of people coming to pray too. Whether it was a farmer making his final prayers for his farm before hurrying and leaving it to his family, or a housewife praying for her unborn children to be healthy so they could help out from a young age, their days were filled with delivering prayers to Inari.

However, today was a quieter day. Fewer people were coming to the shrine due to the snow falling and making the stairs up to the shrine slippery. Hence, Rintarou could take a break sitting on the rooftop as he always did.

He wasn’t bothered by the freezing temperatures. After all, he was just a spirit and he could warm himself up whenever he wanted to. Not that he needed to. Despite that, he still wore a tanzen instead of his regular yukata or jinbei. It was just a little more comfortable in the winter, like wearing a thick blanket around him at all times.

As Rintarou laid on the rooftop, he closed his eyes and felt the tiny flakes fall upon his teenaged face before melting. He wondered how long it had been since he first came to the shrine considering he looked to be about 16 years old now. A small smirk came to his face as he thought about how he had grown to be taller than the other three over all the years.

While Shinsuke didn’t seem to mind, Atsumu and Osamu complained that they still had some time to go. Rintarou didn’t doubt it, but he would simply remind them that that meant he had time to grow too. 

Safe to say, the twins shut up after that.

Speaking of which, the silence around him had been interrupted. Rintarou could hear the shrine maidens putting on their sandals and walking around to the front of the shrine. He could also hear the sound of geta clicking their way up the stairs leading to the shrine.

“The maids must’ve seen someone coming up the mountainside to make their prayers.” He thought to himself and relaxed.

“Thank you for making the journey up!” The kannushi greeted. The kitsune wondered if it was someone important. There had been some important daimyos visiting before and he could sense a familiar presence and scent from them.

“It’s alright. We’re more grateful for you being willing to take her in,” an elderly woman spoke.

“We’re sure she will become a wonderful shrine maiden. She’s not of age yet but until then we shall teach her about what we do and take care of her,” one of the shrine maidens spoke. Rintarou frowned slightly at the weird feeling in his chest he was getting, and peeked over the edge of the roof. His breath caught in his throat at the sight.  

“What’s your name, dear?”

“L/N...Y/N.”

Rintarou felt his heart stop at the mention of your name. Could it really be you? After all, the spirits of the deceased were not reincarnated but went on to reside in another world. Or maybe you were an anomaly and allowed to reincarnate for whatever reason. He wasn’t sure but he didn’t want to question it too much. All that he knew was that you were here now. Or someone who resembled you strongly. 

“Rintarou,” a strong voice called from behind him. The kitsune turned quickly to sit up and face his senior standing with his arms crossed and his haori resting on his shoulders as usual.

“Yes, senpai?”

“She may not be who ya think she is. Don’t frighten her. And remember to be careful, she’s here to become a shrine maiden.” 

The younger kitsune nodded slowly though his gaze drifted to you. Even if he knew you probably wouldn’t remember him, he still wanted to talk to you and to be friends once again.

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

Deep in the forest, Rintarou had been sitting on the old boulder and watching the moon, contemplating whether to talk to you or not. There was no way you could ever remember him anyways, so was there a point in trying to form a relationship with you again? You would probably be scared of him, right? He had nearly gotten over losing you anyways, so would it be worth it to start this all over again?

As he thought about it, drumming his long fingers against the rock, he heard a familiar sobbing in the distance.

Rintarou instinctively launched himself off of the boulder, his feet landing in the overgrown grass and snow without so much as a crunch before he took off running down the mountain to the shrine. The sobbing wasn’t loud at all, but it was easy for him to hear and he knew who it belonged to.

Right before he could reach the shrine, he came to an abrupt stop.

You were sitting on the engawa of the house where the priests and shrine maidens lived. Soft moonlight shone onto the snow piled around the shrine and gently illuminated your crying form which rubbed at your eyes with the sleeves of your old worn kimono. Rintarou took a step forward but stopped himself knowing that if you saw an older boy suddenly appear in front of you, you might scream. Any attention on himself was the last thing he wanted right now.

He took in a deep breath and a warm feeling spread through the kitsune as his body became smaller and dark fur grew on his skin. The transformation always gave him a weird sensation and a few moments getting used to, but not five seconds later he was a fox. A fox with a few tails, but he could hide that with a bit of illusionary magic.

With snow crunching softly under his little paws, Rintarou slowly walked over to you and sat right in front of you who hadn’t noticed him yet. 

When you removed your sleeves from your eyes, you looked down and jumped when you suddenly saw the predatory animal with glowing golden eyes right in front of you. “A-Ah… please don’t hurt me…”

Rintarou could feel a stinging pain in his heart, a feeling he hadn’t felt in years. To think you could be scared of him when you were once quick to hold his hand or hug him… But he knew he shouldn’t have been surprised and that he would have to rebuild the relationship from scratch. 

He hopped onto the engawa and sat beside you on his hindlegs, golden eyes staring at you before bowing his head lightly to show that he meant no harm. 

“Ah… You’re nice, aren’t you?” you mumbled and reached out a cold hand to carefully stroke his head. To your surprise, he didn’t flinch at all. In fact, he leaned into your hand with a little whine.

You continued to stroke his soft fur. The warmth from the fox was warming your cold hands, making the action strangely therapeutic.

“This is really weird but…” You suddenly spoke, making Rintarou look up in surprise to hear your voice sounding almost exactly like it had years ago. “You make me feel better. I feel like I can talk to you.” A sad smile formed on your lips as tears began to well up again. 

The fox raised its paw, as if it wanted to wipe away your tears but quickly put down its leg and settled with just rubbing its head against your side. You had to smile a little more at that - this fox seemed to understand you. 

“If you don’t mind, I want to talk a bit,” you say, and the fox silently looks up at you again, “I didn’t want to come here. My family… my family is really far away. No, they were far away. We were craftsmen and merchants and it was okay. Then the daimyo asked all the men to fight his stupid war.

“Dad had to go… and then later nii-chan did. Mom, nee-chan, and my little brother were all left on the farm. One day, a man came to the house and mom started crying. I knew what happened to dad and nii-chan.”

Recounting the harsh memories caused little droplets to fall from your face, temporarily illuminated by the soft moonlight before dampening your kimono. Your breath was becoming a bit heavier and the way your chest jumped with nearly every breath told Rintarou how painful it was. 

“Mom… she was so sad. And then one day, I was out with granny to the forest to forage for some ingredients. Nee-chan couldn’t go because she had to help out in the shop. When we came back a week later, the village was burnt to the ground. It was so quiet.” 

You could recall the only sound being the howling wind blowing through the broken and burnt remains of the village. No pretty glass wind chimes, no laughter from the tavern, no children running freely. Just the wind and the sound of snow crunching under your feet. 

“B- But… obaa-san couldn’t take care of me. She’s getting old and wouldn’t live much longer. She said there’s a safe shrine and she used to be friends with a miko so she took me here. It was one week of walking and it was really painful but now I’m here. Then they said that I have to become a shrine maiden. My training hasn’t started yet but it will someday.”

The loose thread on your kimono sleeve had become longer as you fiddled with it while talking. “A-Anyways, I never really believed in the gods that much but I guess I have to start doing it now right?” You tried to laugh in an attempt to lighten the mood.

In reply, Rintarou pressed his forehead against your arm. A quiet way of saying he would stay with you.

He didn’t know if you wanted or even needed his protection, but he would give it to you. He knew that the training for becoming a shrine maiden was difficult, even painful at times. And he had already decided he wouldn’t let harm come to you anymore. Even if you didn’t know him anymore, or even if you weren’t the same soul, he would protect you.

The fox’s ears twitched as he heard footsteps pat their way on the wooden flooring of the house. Knowing it had to be one of the other shrine maidens, he quickly sprinted away from you. He didn’t need them to explicitly know of his existence.

“Y/N-chan, what are you doing out here? It’s cold and you must be hungry! Come sit inside by the fire. Ami-senpai made some matcha and we have some soba,” one of the shrine maidens insisted. 

“I was talk- I was looking at the moon.” You changed your answer upon realising it must be strange to say you were talking to a fox, though your gaze lingered on the little pawprints in the snow.

“The moon, huh?” The older girl looked at the sky and nodded, “Indeed. It’s beautiful, but it can wait unlike our soba!” 

She quickly ushered you inside, away from the cold and unintentionally from Rintarou’s gaze. 

He had transformed back to his human form, finding it more comfortable. His face remained neutral as he looked up at the moon, wondering what he could do for you. 

The next morning, you woke up and rubbed your eyes. The sunlight was shining through the paper doors and you noticed the other shrine maidens were still asleep. Perhaps it was because they had stayed up a little later than you did to wash the cutlery and clean around the fireplace. 

You pushed back the blanket and quietly folded your futon. Maybe you’d go sweep the front of the shrine and remove the snow. The maidens were nice and you knew they had plenty of duties so it would be good to help out at least a little. 

The air was cold from the night’s winter breeze but at least the sun was starting to melt the ice just a little. You breathed on your hands in an attempt to warm them up as you carefully slid open the paper doors separating the room and the open hallway. To your surprise, there was a little parcel right outside. 

On top of a piece of scrap cloth sat a little bundle of berries and a few small mikan fruits. You cocked your head, wondering where they could have come from until you saw a few strands of fur laying beside them. 

Dark brown, just like the fox from last night. 

And if you looked carefully, there were little paw prints leading to the forest beside the shrine. 

You wondered if he could’ve been a guardian spirit and smiled to yourself at the funny thought. Anything could happen these days. 

You then wrapped up the fruit, deciding to share it with the other girls for a sweet breakfast or for a snack later and reentered the room. 

Rintarou watched from atop a tree branch, his narrow eyes hoping you had noticed the little clues he had left for you. He couldn’t tell what you were thinking but your smile was enough to please him. It was certainly nicer than your tear stained face which he hoped he would never have to see again. 

With ever quiet footsteps, Rintarou hopped off the tree and began walking back to the den where the other foxes lived.

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

Several moons had passed. 

Since that day, Rintarou could not gather the courage to speak to you. All he would do was lay on his regular spot on the rooftop and occasionally eavesdrop on the shrine staff if he felt like it to make sure you were alright. You seemed to be adjusting quickly, helping out with minor tasks and cleaning up around the shrine in order to get on the shrine maidens’ good side. It seemed to work, and he was relieved for you. 

On certain days when you were asked to go into the forest and pick flowers or fruit, he would subtly guide you in the direction of better fruit or block a path to poisonous berries. He would also scare off wild animals to keep you safe.

While doing this, Rintarou wished he could talk to you directly again, but he knew there was the risk that you would be scared and it would make your many years at the shrine hell-like.

“What do you think?” he asked Osamu one day while the rain of June fell outside their den - a little hut that Shinsuke had built a long time ago with the other kitsune who lived here before they moved away and before the three younger foxes had come about.

“What do I think? You kinda sound like a weirdo,” his fellow kitsune replied while taking a bite from his onigiri he had made for himself. Rintarou frowned and crossed his arms, silently asking “What do you mean?” 

Osamu finished up his rice ball and looked at his friend, “Yer always just watchin’ the poor girl. If you were a human you’d probably wanna protect her from yer weird self. Just talk to her. If she gets freaked, that sucks but it ain’t the end of the world.”

Rintarou drummed his fingers against his bicep, knowing his friend did have a point. “Yeah. I suppose so.”

Which was the reason why one month later he was standing by the torii watching you reach up in an awkward attempt to light the lanterns around the shrine. 

Tonight was the summer festival.

Although the war still raged on, knowing they could still hold the festival every year was a sort of blessing to the population. Being under one of the more powerful lords, their region lived in relative peace and prosperity. 

And to Rintarou, it brought both wonderful and painful memories.

He took in a deep breath and walked over to you who stood on your tiptoes in an attempt to light a lantern. He noticed that though you were taller, you were still a little short for now. As for him, he practically towered over you with how he had grown in his unfinished ‘adolescent years’.

“Let me help you.” He spoke in his quiet voice, making you jump and almost drop the candle you were holding. 

“H-Hold on, who are- s-sorry, could I ask who you may be?” you changed your speech to be more polite as you realised this mysterious man could be a visitor to the shrine. Your grandma had emphasised to you to be kind to strangers, and the shrine maidens made sure you knew of that rule even more when it came to shrine visitors.

Rintarou realised that he must have surprised you with the way his feet barely made a sound as he walked to you. 

“I’m Rintarou. Do you want me to help? You look like you’re having a little trouble,” he asked, holding out a hand for you to place the candle into. 

However, you just shrank away and shook your head, holding the candle as close to yourself as you would dare. “I’m not familiar with you. We’re still making preparations around the shrine for today’s festival so…” You furrowed your brow as you saw something swish behind the man. 

As discreetly as a curious young teen could, you took a glance at what was behind him and almost dropped your candle with a squeak upon seeing three long tails swaying. 

“N-No way, you’re a kitsune? You’re real?” Your face was pale with fear but your eyes were wide with amazement. Then you remembered the tales you had read about the spirits, both the good and bad.

“You’re not… you’re not going to play a trick on me are you? Oh wait, no, you must be one of Inari-sama’s servants! Oh gosh, I’m so sorry for treating you weirdly!” You were beginning to panic at the idea that you might have just been rude to a celestial being.

“Ah, I mean that’s true but I don’t really care about those things,” Rintarou shrugged, “Do you remember me though?” It was a long shot but worth a try.

“Remember?” You cocked your head in confusion. Was there something you were supposed to remember? 

The kitsune was somewhat disappointed that you could not remember him from long ago, but he was already preparing for that. It hurt, but it was a bearable pain.

Then he remembered, he had appeared to you on your first night as a fox. With a snap of his fingers and a puff of smoke, he felt his body become smaller. The transformation was never very enjoyable but once the smoke had cleared, you gasped upon seeing a little dark brown fox with golden eyes in front of you.

“You’re the fox from that night! When I first came! But you had one tail that time…” you crossed your arms, slightly unconvinced. What if this kitsune wasn’t a zenko but a yako? A mischievous spirit looking to cause harm?

Just as you blinked, two of his tails had suddenly disappeared. He was exactly like that fox from that winter night you arrived.

“Oh… It really was you.”

“Of course it was,” Rintarou spoke and with another puff of smoke returned to his human form. Tall and handsome in his black yukata with red accents and a red obi, though this time with his ears on display too. “I wouldn’t lie about that.”

“That implies you would lie about other things. Aren’t you supposed to be good since you work for Inari-sama?” You grinned cheekily at his words. 

Rintarou narrowed his eyes in reply before crossing his arms, “Well. You’re supposed to be working for him soon too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You squinted at the older teenage boy.

“You’re not lighting the lanterns.”

“Oh! You’re right!” You ran to the next lantern and tiptoed to reach the paper lantern while wondering who on earth decided to hang all the paper lanterns for the festival so high. 

Rintarou watched from a few feet away, arms still crossed at your unsuccessful attempt to light the lantern. After about a minute of watching you jump around and almost dropping your candle about three times, he walked over, “Do you need help? This one’s taller than the rest.”

You looked up at him and his height before a bashful pink creeped up your cheeks. 

“Y-Yeah… And could you help with the others…”

With a little chuckle, the kitsune took the candle from your hand and began lighting the paper lanterns with ease. As you two walked around the shrine grounds to light the lanterns, you became curious of him.

“How long have you been a kitsune?” You asked.

“I think… two centuries? I don’t count these days,” Rintarou replied.

“Eh… What do you do as a zenko? Is it fun?”

“Mm… I deliver prayers and make sure no evil spirits come to the shrine. Also, I sleep a lot.”

“Wow… that sounds nice! I wish I could be a kitsune too!”

Rintarou’s breath stopped for a second. He had wished that for you too. If only you could have been a kitsune when you first met… you would have been with the four of them.

“Yeah… It’s nice. But it’s got its downsides,” he said and lit another lantern. 

He noticed the confused look on your face. After all, how could there be downsides to being practically immortal and to having magical powers?

There were too many things he wanted to say; from the way he had to witness too many horrible things in the history of this war torn land to the way the changing of seasons was no longer special to him - it was just another way to show time passed. 

But most of all, it was the fact that time passed ever so slowly for him. 

He couldn’t count how many times he had had to witness the coming and going of the animals and flowers in the forest, of the people at the shrine, and most importantly ‘your’ coming and going.

But how could he tell you all of this? He certainly didn’t want to ruin your night. 

“You just get bored after a while since everything’s a bit repetitive,” Rintarou shrugged while lighting a lantern. He returned the candle to your hand, expression ever unchanging. “We’re done with everything. Are you going to the festival after this?”

“Thanks, Rintarou-san!” The kitsune cringed at the way you called him ‘-san’ rather than with ‘-kun’ or ‘RinRin’ like Shinsuke or the twins would. It really had been a while since he talked to anyone else. “Mm, the shrine maiden onee-sans said I have to help out for three hours, then I get free time to go to the festival!” You grinned.

“Ah. That’s good.” He replied. 

A short silence followed, the two of you unsure what to say or do now. The cicada’s buzzing was getting louder and Rintarou’s expression remained calm as he stared at you with his narrow eyes. His stare was so intense that it felt like he was looking right into your soul.

“Rintarou-s”

“-kun. You don’t have to say ‘-san’.”

You cocked your head in confusion, “But you’re a zenko. If anything it should be with ‘-sama’,” you said.

“I’m okay with it. More importantly, I wanted to ask you if you want to spend that free time in the festival with me? There’s something I want to show you, I think you’d love it.”

You thought about it for a moment, “Sure, but what is it? I’m not gonna follow you to the spirit world if that’s what you wanna do.” 

Rintarou scrunched his nose at the thought. He went there all the time, it wasn’t special at all. And he knew you wouldn’t enjoy it much (it was more weird in his opinion than special.) “No, but it’s a surprise.”

You cocked your head, wondering what on earth he could be referring to. But you sensed no malice from him and he genuinely just seemed like he had good intentions, so you nodded, “Alright, I’ll see you at the back of the shrine in three hours then.” You flashed a toothy smile at him too and he smiled softly in return.  

“I’ll see you there.” 

Time seemed to pass in the smallest increments as Rintarou walked around the festival with the twins and Shinsuke. Not only was waiting for you taking an excruciatingly long time, but all the attention they were receiving was becoming tiring.

As they practically towered over everyone around them, they just stood out in the crowd too much. Even Shinsuke was taller than everyone. Though, Rintarou noticed that people were taller than the average height a hundred years ago and he wondered if the average height would continue to grow. He hoped that would happen so it wouldn’t be so troublesome in the future for them.

Because as flattering as receiving marriage offers from various women trying to find suitable son-in-laws was, it was getting a little annoying and Rintarou was not interested in marrying anyone. Atsumu cheekily accepted one or two but a quick knock on the head from Shinsuke reminded him to keep his mouth shut.

So when the three hours had passed and you were finally able to leave your duties taking care of selling charms at the shrine, you were somewhat surprised to see Rintarou looking almost eager to meet with you.

“How long were you waiting for?” You asked, having to crane your neck to look up at him.

“Not a long time,” He shrugged as if he didn’t come to the meeting spot almost twenty minutes ago. “Anyways, should we head to our destination? We don’t have much time.” 

You nodded and followed behind him into the forest. Even if it was strange to be following someone you barely knew, it was like there was something deep in you that said ‘You can trust him.’

Rintarou’s tails swished behind him as you two walked, almost tickling your nose with how close it was to you, though you knew to not touch it lest you wanted to cause an accident. You noticed how you could only clearly hear your footsteps - the kitsune’s were so gentle that they made no more than a light brushing against the grass. 

It really was strange, following a spirit into the forest.

A couple of minutes later, he stopped walking. “Here we are,” He stepped to the side and allowed you to take in the beautiful sight of a glade. It felt like a scene you could only see in a dream. In fact, it gave a strange feeling of deja vu, like you had seen this sight in an old dream. 

“What do you think?”

“It’s so pretty that my chest feels funny,” you replied, causing Rintarou to chuckle lightly. 

“This place makes my chest feel funny too,” He said and brushed off a wisteria petal that fell onto your head, “Come on, it gets even better.”

He then guided you to the boulder and helped you climb on top of it. As you sat with your knees hugged to your chest, staring up at the dark night sky, you smiled to yourself. It really was a nice place, and Rintarou really was a nice person.

A sudden flame shot up into the sky and burst, followed by a loud bang seconds later. Soon, more lights followed the initial one, exploding with their own timings while loud claps and bangs followed mere seconds after. The night sky was repeatedly illuminated with vibrant colours and you could only stare in awe. 

For many years, Rintarou had watched this sight alone, but now he had you again. Though your relationship was different and he didn’t even know if you were the same person, he didn’t care. Your company now was good enough for him. Filled with nostalgia, the teen couldn’t help but let out a sigh as he watched the last light fade away, leaving a trail of smoke in the air.

“The fireworks at my old village were never this pretty,” You spoke softly after a few moments of silence, “They were pretty of course, but never this beautiful.”

“Well this region has some pretty important shoguns so we’ve got a little more access to money for festivities these days,” Rintarou explained, though he personally felt it was prettier because he had a friend to watch the show with.

A friendship that possibly transcended a lifetime, huh…

“This place is really pretty in the sunset too. And the sunrise. And in the afternoon actually.” His words made you giggle.

“So, this place is pretty all day?” you asked. 

Rintarou realised how awkward his description was and nodded slowly. “Yeah… You should come see it. I’ll bring you so you don’t have to worry about getting lost and such.”

“Sure!” Your bright smile was illuminated by the remaining fireflies and yet it also illuminated the dark space around you two. Rintarou smiled back and ruffled your hair lightly. 

“I’ll look forward to it,” he started as you pouted and rearranged your hair, “There’s plenty of other nice places here too. I think you’d love them.”

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

Months passed, and as the green leaves faded into shades of warm oranges, reds, and yellows, you two would spend the cooling autumn afternoons crossing creeks, eating juicy berries you would find, and sometimes just sitting in a quiet place to chat, eat, or read. Though the library in the shrine wasn’t massive, it held some interesting folktales and old journals. 

The shrine maidens did enquire once in a while but you figured they wouldn’t believe you if you said you went to spend time with a group of kitsune. You wondered if it was bad to lie and say that you liked reading in the forest and gathering the fruits of fall, but you did so anyways. It wasn’t a complete lie after all. 

You enjoyed the time you spent with Rintarou - he was fun to talk to and when Atsumu and Osamu would come to spend time with you two, the afternoon was always filled with laughter. Shinsuke was interesting to talk to too, he was knowledgeable about nearly anything and you were convinced at times that he was Inari themselves (though he was quick to tell you he was just another kitsune like the three).

The seasons seemed to pass too quickly though, for before you knew it the golden leaves began to fall and became buried under layers of snow and ice. You were no longer allowed to leave the shrine as often, seeing as it was dangerous and cold. Because of that, you couldn’t talk to the foxes as much as before, but you appreciated them trying to visit once in a while. 

Still, the cold wind and frost threatening to freeze your fingertips and cheeks brought back terrible memories and their limited visits weren’t always enough to keep you warm all the time. 

At times in the middle of the winter nights, you would suddenly wake up from the sound of a particularly strong wind blowing, rattling the shutters and rustling the crackling branches of the trees nearby. No matter how you hugged the blanket to yourself, you never felt completely fine until you’d quietly exit the room and sit on the engawa just like you had roughly a year ago, watching the moon.

“Can’t sleep?” The familiar voice spoke with a little chuckle. You looked to your side and saw Rintarou sitting beside you.

“When did you get there?” You asked, hugging your knees to your chest and looking at the nearly spotless layer of snow before you. 

“Doesn’t matter. You don’t seem too good though,” he said, looking at your smaller form.

“Yeah. I don’t feel too great,” you mumbled, “I just remember… that day a lot these days. And… the shrine maidens told me something.” You rested your chin on your knees.

Rintarou noticed the way your fingers dug into the thick cloth of your kimono, as if you were trying to endure an invisible pain. He cocked his head, “What did they tell you?”

“I have to start training to become a miko once spring comes. And it’s really scary… I mean, I think you’ve seen it before. All the onee-sans are always really tired and they have to do these terrifying rituals and sometimes… I’m not dumb. I know what happens in the spare room with visitors. It’s one of the only ways we get money anymore.” You could feel a lump welling up in your throat. 

Rintarou noticed it too. The way your breath became shakier the more you thought about it, thinking about the times you overheard the older miko talking to each other about their past experiences, and the way your sniffles were not because of the cold air but because you were trying to hold back tears. 

“I read the old journals and I don’t want to become a miko. I’m scared, Rintarou.” You cried softly and held onto his sleeve, trying to hold your breath to prevent your wails from escaping your throat. But you began hiccupping and panicking even more, worried that the others would hear you.

Rintarou was quick to pull you close to himself, large hands carefully stroking your hair in an attempt to calm you. 

He had no idea what to say. The thought terrified him too, to think that you didn’t get to choose this path yet you were stuck on it. The only thing that could come to mind for him to say was,

“I’ll protect you.”

Your hiccupping stopped as you looked up at him. 

“Huh?”

“I won’t let you get hurt by evil spirits or allow harm to come to you. Officially, I’m just a messenger but I think my powers exceed just that,” Rintarou looked into your teary eyes as he spoke, a small smile on his lips as he continued to stroke your hair, “You don’t doubt me, do you?”

“No, I don’t…” Your choked voice replied, though it and your body were both noticeably calmer.

“Yeah. So don’t worry. I’m still here and I’ll always be here for you.”

You look into his golden eyes for a minute, searching for any deception you doubted he would hold towards you. Your grip tightened on his clothes and you finally let your head fall against his chest. “I trust you.”

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

As the years went by, Rintarou kept his promise. Every time he knew a spirit would come to possess you, he would warn it to not cause harm. Whenever your training involved the cold, he would help warm you up with his fire. And whenever you felt like it was getting too difficult, he would come to your side and encourage you to continue.

He was proud to know that your skill in talking to spirits (with some of his help) made you recognised as one of the best miko at the shrine.

But today, Rintarou finds himself seated upon the roof once again. It was a special day today - you would perform the kagura dance on this fine afternoon among the falling cherry blossoms to show off the cultivation of your years of effort. 

On his left sat Shinsuke, and to the left of the older kitsune sat the twins. All four of them were eager to see the culmination of your efforts, and were curious to see how Inari would take it. They would be coming down today after all, and possibly entering your form.

The four watched as you carefully took your position on the platform in your pure white robes. If he wasn’t mistaken, you looked up at him for a moment before your powdered face returned to its calm and emotionless state. You then picked up the kagura suzu, a wand with bells for the ceremony, and held it firmly yet carefully. It jingled quietly with your subtle movement, though it became louder as you rattled it and signalled for your fellow miko to begin playing their instruments. 

Rintarou narrowed his eyes as he watched the way your feet took little steps, slowly moving around the platform just as you practiced. Though it wasn’t the first time he had seen it, for some reason he thought you looked absolutely amazing today. 

Your hair was done beautifully and the movements your body made were simple yet stunning. The look of serenity on your face was something else too. Though it was funny to hear coming from a celestial being such as him, he thought you looked ethereal.

Suddenly, his eyes widened. What was he thinking? He shouldn’t be falling for a human, much less a shrine maiden. 

A cold breeze blew through the shrine grounds and your body tensed up midway through your dance. 

Inari had descended. 

Instinctively, Rintarou stood to his feet to protect you and calm you, but Shinsuke grabbed his wrist roughly. “She knows what she’s doing. You’ve watched her practice. Inari-sama won’t harm her,” he said, and the brunet sat back down.

Your once gentle movements had become wild and loud, as you leaped about the platform possessed by Inari. Though this was a special moment for you, Rintarou could only feel a strange feeling in his chest. 

Was it worry? Jealousy? But it felt stronger than that. He couldn’t understand it and could only continue to watch your performance in silence but also with a warm feeling in his heart. 

That night, you decided to sit out on the engawa and watch the moon once again. It felt like a good night as the ceremony in the morning was a success and the current weather was not too warm yet not too cold. Of course, you never watched the moon alone, though you didn’t even have to ask if your regular partner would care to sit with you because when you slid open the door, Rintarou was already there.

“You did well today,” he spoke up and shifted slightly to make space for you on the engawa. 

“Thank you. The other maidens said the same,” you replied quietly as you sat beside him, “And I saw you four sitting on the roof today. Do kitsune find the kagura entertaining too?” Though the ceremony was originally intended to be entertainment for the gods, no one could deny that in recent years, many people found it interesting themselves. 

“We’ve seen many kagura performances in our many years of living so… it’s not particularly entertaining anymore,” Rintarou shrugged. 

“Then…” you narrowed your eyes and leaned in close, “My performance was boring?”

The kitsune realised what he had said and his eyes widened. “No, nothing like that. It was good,” he quickly spoke.

“Good, but boring?”

“It wasn’t boring… I enjoyed watching it and I thought you looked-”

“I’m just teasing you, Rin. You always tease me so I thought I should do the same to you someday.” You giggled and averted your gaze up to the moon. Rintarou looked down at you in surprise but smiled softly.

Moments like these were frequent - the two of you would sit on the engawa at night and watch the clouds drift by, occasionally concealing the moon before allowing it to shine once more. But tonight, the kitsune didn’t feel like looking at it. Instead, he felt like it was outshone by your beauty. 

“It’s pretty tonight, isn’t it?” You suddenly spoke up, smiling at the sky. “I wish we could sit here forever to watch it.”

Rintarou glanced towards the sky for a moment but his gaze returned to you within the second. “Yeah. That would be nice. It’s really pretty,” he said before mumbling under his breath, “You’re really pretty.”

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

The following summer, Rintarou waited in the forest as he usually did. Though it wasn’t too deep in, it was far enough that one couldn’t find him easily without knowing the correct path to take, weaving between trees and crossing over large roots. Of course, it was a path you knew all too well. 

Hearing the sound of leaves and dirt crunching alongside laboured breaths, Rintarou looked up to see you smiling at him tiredly. 

“Working as a shrine maiden ain’t all that fun is it?” He asked with a light chuckle as he passed you a still warm taiyaki wrapped in a small handkerchief, “Here, eat up.”

You nodded and took the taiyaki before following the spirit up the mountain as you always did. It became quieter the further you two walked into the forest, though it was a strange quiet. Unlike the silences you two often shared, today’s one felt different. Like you were waiting for something.

Perhaps it was the fact that this was your first proper break in a long time - your new position as a shrine maiden did take up a lot of time. Or the anticipation of this year’s fireworks, which were supposed to be bigger than ever due to the shogun finally winning the battle against his biggest enemy. You weren’t sure, but it felt like your heart was beating stronger than it usually did.

So far deep in your thoughts and snack, you didn’t realise a new root had grown on the path in the time you hadn’t visited the glade. 

With a squeak, you found yourself bracing for the impact you would surely feel once you hit the ground but- it didn’t come. Instead you felt a cool but warm body.

“Don’t go getting injured on me,” Rintarou warned and helped you stand up properly.

“Oh, you know that’s not my intention.” You laughed and took a bite of your taiyaki. “Plus, you’d nurse me back to health right? Just like that one time?”

“I feel like I’m cheating,” you admitted one day while laying in your futon. Rintarou sat beside you, flipping through an old folklore book left behind by a visitor. 

“Hm? Why’s that?” he asks as he put down the book to look at you. He carefully poured out a cup of hot tea for you and helped you sit up to drink it. This was one of the rare times you got to spend a lot of time alone and though you were unwell during it, he would use every second of this time to be with you.

“The other miko don’t have a spirit helping them. When they get sick from training they have to take care of themselves. And when they have to speak with spirits for training, no one can give them tips or frighten off the bad spirits,” you mumble, your voice slightly muffled by the thick blanket which was pulled up to the tip of your nose.

“If you want, I can ask Atsumu or Osamu to take care of them. They wouldn’t mind for sure.”

“Oh… no, don’t bother them.” You coughed and rolled onto your side to look at Rintarou, “They’ve probably got a lot of duties already.”

“But it’s no different from me helping you out, is it?” He pointed out. 

“But you chose to do this… If you wanna stop, you can too, ya know. It’s fine with me.” You sighed quietly and furrowed your brow. Even though you had just suggested it, you felt sad at the thought of your best friend leaving your side. It wouldn’t be like you’d never see him again, you’d just see him less. 

And yet… the thought of that hurt.

“You don’t actually want that. I can tell,” Rintarou chuckled and helped push away a few sweaty strands of hair from your forehead, “And neither do I.”

You pouted under the blanket, knowing he was right. And he knew he was right too. “Still…” you mumble, “You don’t have to take care of me to this extent.” 

Rintarou shook his head and leaned close to you. He could practically feel the heat emanating from your forehead but he ignored it along with the way you shrank further into the futon. “You can’t stop me from doing what I wanna do,” he said and pressed his lips to your forehead. 

It’s only a small act of affection, a show of protection from a spirit to a human. Yet you suddenly felt like your temperature had increased a couple degrees and a strange feeling had erupted in your chest. It was such a frustrating yet loving feeling, you wanted to experience it more and yet you wanted to get rid of it as soon as possible.

When Rintarou pulled away and sat up straight again with his legs crossed, he rested his head in his palm, elbow propped up in his lap, and looked down at you with a sort of endearing yet sneaky smile. “So let me take care of you, Y/N.” His gentle voice spoke.

You nodded quietly and closed your eyes to return to sleep, though just before you did, you mumbled a small, “Thank you, Rin.” 

“I don’t recall.” He shrugged as he pushed back a wisteria branch and waited for you to pass. Just thinking about how he was trying to be cool by giving you a forehead kiss was enough to fill his body with the overwhelming need to hide under a rock for the next century. Thankfully, you were extremely drowsy while sick so you probably didn’t remember...

“You liar! You were giving me tea and putting the towel on my head and- there was a forehead kiss!” 

Looks like you didn’t forget and Rintarou would have to find a giant boulder very soon. 

“Who knew a zenko serving Inari-sama would believe in kisses to help heal sickness?!” You teased and reached up to poke his forehead, though he easily dodged it and you only laughed more.

“You’re annoying.” He sighed as you two waded your way through the tall grass of the glade. 

“But you still haven’t left me.” You giggled as you awkwardly climbed up the rock before sitting on top of it.

He had to admit you did have a point. Throughout the years, he never left your side. And thinking about it, you never left his either. Even though decades had passed, longer than you could even remember, you always returned to his side. 

The thought had him smiling softly before he nodded, “I suppose you have a point there. Now come, the fireworks should start soon. I heard they have a new one, created by some craftsmen from the north.” 

You gasped in reply, “Really? I can’t wait to-”

A light flew into the sky, bursting into a bright yellow flower before a loud BOOM sounded a second later.

“It’s starting! We really made it just in time, huh?” You grinned at the brunet before looking up at the sky once again. 

Even if you saw the sight every year, sometimes more than once a year, it was still beautiful. But what made it truly beautiful was the kitsune beside you.

No words had to be exchanged, yet his mere presence was enough to fill your heart with a warm feeling.

“Rintarou…” You called his name quietly while the fireworks continued to burst their way into the sky. 

The kitsune looked over at you, wondering what you would say. 

“I want to spend every year like this with you. Every summer festival, let’s watch the fireworks together. And every Tanabata, let’s make the same wish. Oh and every New Year’s, I’d like to eat mochi with you,” the words spilled from your mouth without you thinking.

Rintarou blinked owlishly at you for a second before he began laughing, his arms folded over his stomach in a bad attempt to make himself stop before he broke his cool too far.

“H-Hey! What’s so funny?” You whine, hitting his arm lightly.

“N-Nothing, it just…” He took a deep breath and leaned back slightly, though he still looked at you with a small smirk on his face. “It just sounds like a marriage proposal.” 

Upon hearing that, your eyes widened and your cheeks turned red. A marriage proposal? That sort of thing could never come from you! With your duties to Inari, there was no way that you could ever get married, especially not to a spirit like him!

“Y-You’re imagining things! I just said I like spending time with you!” You insisted, tearing your gaze away from the spirit sitting beside you. Though… you had to admit, there was more than one occasion where you wondered if the two of you could have gotten married in another life. 

In a different life, where you two were free to meet and fall in love, to court and engage in the beautiful ceremony of marriage… You both knew you would have chosen each other.

“Even if it was a proposal- and an accidental one at that, it’s not like we could get married. We’re both busy with our duties and you could probably find a more beautiful wife. The yuki onna that lives on the mountain in the winter is a good choice.” You joked, though it hurt a little to think of Rintarou choosing her.

“That woman? She’s still around? I thought Shin-senpai chased her off the mountain three years ago for causing violence on the grounds,” he frowned.

“Um… well she… or another one came back last winter, though she left already,” you tried to recall.

“Good riddance. Anyways, I wouldn’t choose her as a wife. Even if we were both human,” he shrugged before turning to you, “After all, why would I when I already have someone I want to marry right in front of me?”

The moment your eyes locked, a loud explosion burst and echoed in the silence that followed. The sky was reduced to its dark colours, any stars dotting it blanketed by the smoke.

“You’re just saying that,” you mumbled and quickly turned away, “it’s not good to joke about such important matters.” 

Rintarou frowned and scooted a little closer to you to ask, “Why do you think I’m joking?”

Your gaze stayed fixed on the grass surrounding the boulder, “Because we can’t get married. You’re a kitsune and I’m a human. Not to mention we have our own duties.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not serious when I say I want to marry you.” He gently cupped your face with his cool hand and brought it to look at his. 

As your eyes met, you wondered if the gold in his eyes always looked so beautiful. The sharpness of his features were more mesmerizing than ever, and you were so badly tempted to just lean in and-

“Can I kiss you?” His voice was more alluring than ever. 

“What if Inari-sama gets mad at you for defiling one of their shrine maidens?” you asked with a little grin on your face, making Rintarou playfully roll his eyes. 

“I’ll deal with that later,” he says and leans forward, taking your lips with his own. 

The moment you made contact, the sky was lit once again with bright colours. Though for once, both of you didn’t look at it. Instead, your eyelids slowly shut as you leaned into Rintaoru’s kiss. 

Though his skin was cool, the kiss felt hot. Too hot to handle - like a strange fire was spreading throughout your entire being starting from your heart and lips, and even burning the tips of your fingers and toes. You had never read about it before, let alone experienced it, but you liked it and wanted more of it. 

Was this what being in love was supposed to be like? 

As the two of you kissed, the fireworks continued to colour the night sky, unnoticed by you. To the two of you, nothing else existed right now. 

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

Many more summers passed. Every year upon completing your shrine duties on the summer festival, you would don a wooden kitsune mask and run into the forest to find your lover waiting for you with a matching mask and a small packet of food to share. 

“Don’t you find it weird to have matching masks?” you asked with a giggle one winter night as you hiked hand in hand up the winding mountain trail. 

“Perhaps. But it’d be worse if someone saw the beloved seer and shrine maiden running into the forest with a man, wouldn’t it?” Rintarou asked.

“I suppose so. Would be horrible for business, wouldn’t it?” you replied with a laugh. 

“Exactly,” he ruffled your hair. 

Though the summer festival was always the highlight of the year for you, it wasn��t as if you two didn’t meet at other times. 

Spring was spent watching the blooming cherry blossoms together while eating small snacks, autumn was spent collecting fruits and sewing new kimonos to wear, and winter was spent drinking hot barley tea by the fire with the other kitsune. When the other shrine maidens asked where you would disappear off to for hours, you would simply smile and say, “I’m just checking in on the spirits around the mountain.”

Tonight as you walked hand-in-hand with Rintarou to the glade once again, he noticed the way you were walking a little slower than usual. He realised it wasn’t the first time either - these days he found himself slowing himself down to match your pace more and more often. 

“Did something happen recently?” he asked, removing his mask and hanging it on his hip as he knew you were both out of view and earshot of any humans. He then carefully took your mask as well. 

You shook your head. “Nothing’s really happened lately, why do you ask?” 

Rintarou furrowed his brow but nodded. “I was just wondering, that’s all.” 

“You’re making a funny face,” you giggled, “But no, nothing special’s been happening these days. Oh, I was offered a position of priestess but I said I’d rather stay as a shrine maiden.”

“Is that so? Congratulations, though. The offer alone is good, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is! But at the same time, I don’t feel like taking it. I’m happy with how things are, and I think Kiyoko-senpai at the shrine is way more suited to becoming the priestess than I am,” you smiled, “I just like helping around where I can and then going to see you when I can.”

Rintarou blinked in surprise but a small smile came to his face as he leaned forward and gave you a soft kiss. “I love seeing you too,” he hummed when he pulled away, hands moving to gently cup your face which looked small in his large hands, “And I’m glad that I can be here for the rest of your life too.”

He pressed his cool forehead to yours and you giggled at the feeling. Just like that night over fifteen years ago, you felt his coolness and a warmth. He was just wonderful. Your arms moved to wrap around his neck and pulled him closer for another kiss. Though the cold wind of winter blew around you, and the falling snow threatened to pile up on your feet, the kiss still felt incredibly hot. Perhaps it was partially due to Rintarou warming you with his own magic, but you felt like you could stay like this forever with him.

Eventually, he pulled away with a little cloud of vapour leaving both your lips. His nose crinkled just a little as he chuckled at the sight of your flushed face. “You look absolutely adorable,” he said and pushed a lock of hair behind your ear before noticing something he wished he hadn’t.

“As much as I’d love to get more kisses from you, Rin, I’d rather we get to your den and sit at the fire that Shinsuke has definitely prepared already,” you teased. 

“Right, right.” He nodded and took your hand once again, leading you to the den even if you had known the path from visiting hundreds, if not thousands, of times.

As the two of you walked, muscle memory leading the way, Rintarou thought about the thing he noticed - the fact that your hair had changed colour.

It wasn’t something he had never seen before, he had seen plenty of the priests, priestesses, and shrine maidens grow old before. Yet somehow it became so much heavier when he realised the same thing was happening to you. Your steps were slower, he could find grey strands, and when you smiled, the creases by your eyes seemed deeper than before. 

He knew about this. He once watched you grow up before his very eyes and get married to another man while he still lived in the body of a child. He anticipated the fact that someday, you would leave the earth and him, but he didn’t think it would hit so suddenly and painfully. 

With his free hand, Rintarou gently touched the soft skin of his face and took in a deep breath, realising that it was happening.

“Rintarou, did something happen?” you asked, noticing he had something on his mind. 

The kitsune turned to you and shook his head before kissing your forehead. “No, nothing’s wrong, Y/N.” He smiled.

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

“Y/N, you have to let me heal you.”

“For the last time, Rintarou, I said no!” you cried and pushed him away with what strength you could muster. Though you had gained a lot working for the shrine for so many years, your old age was finally catching up to you. 

A cold wind blew and though the doors to the shrine were closed, a small draft sent a shiver through your old bones. With bony hands, you pulled the futon’s blanket higher on you and laid down. “Please… just don’t.”

It was such a painful sight, to see you slowly succumbing to nature’s will. No matter how many times Rintarou insisted on using his healing to keep you healthy enough to live a long life, you always refused it. 

“Please, just give me some time,” you spoke quietly.

The kitsune bit his lip before nodding. As much as he wanted to spend whatever time he could with you, he respected your wishes and left the room to work on his own duties. 

As you laid in the futon, you stared up at the ceiling. It wasn’t hard to tell you didn’t have much time left. At the moment, you couldn’t remember how long you had lived for but if your greying head, wrinkles, and frail body were anything to go by, it was a long time.

“Isn’t it so funny… to see Rintarou in love with an old hag like me?” you asked quietly.

“Not particularly.” A certain voice spoke. You turned your head to see Shinsuke had entered the room and took a seat by you. “We’ve gotten used to you over the many years, ya know?”

“He keeps insisting to take away my sickness and make me younger. I don’t even know if his magic can do that.” You sighed.

“I’m not really sure about it either but in the end it’s yer choice. He can’t force ya to accept any treatment and neither do I think he would,” he shrugged, “But I’ve noticed you’ve been pushin’ him away a lot recently. The boy- the guy comes back all moody and stuff almost everyday.” He still had a little habit of calling him a boy ever since meeting the three foxes.

“Hah… is that so?” you laughed quietly before coughing loudly, “I just don’t want him to be sad when I… you know. Because I know I have to go soon. And this illness in the winter doesn’t help.”

Shinsuke stayed quiet. 

“I wonder if he knows how much I love him. I wonder if he’ll begin to hate me these days. In the end of my years I was always just a trouble to him,” you smile sadly, “He had to carry me to visit you guys, and helped me with so many chores. When we went to watch the fireworks every year, he would also have to pause for me on our walk up, and we even missed it once because I walked so slowly! The following years he would carry me up though.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that memory despite the tears forming in your eyes.

“I wonder if Rin found me a burden,” you continued, “I wanted to do so much for him. Make him snacks or give him books or… I don’t know, just put a smile on his face. But he was always the one doing things for me.”

By the end of your short monologue, your pillow had become soaked with tears. Your body shook slightly, both from the cold and from your sobs.

“I think…” Shinsuke started, “Rintarou loved you just as much. He always came back with a small smile on his face. Whether it was the summer festival nights, or simply sharing a cup of matcha with you in the winter, I believe he thoroughly enjoyed it all.”

“R-Really?” You looked up at the kitsune with puffy eyes.

“I would not lie.” He smiled in reply.

You smiled back softly, relieved to know your ‘husband’ felt that way about you. “Thank you for telling me, Shinsuke. I would- oh!” you exclaimed as you remembered something, “On that table there. There are five books. Can you bring them?” 

Shinsuke reached over to the table and placed five red leather-bound books next to you. “Are these the ones?”

“Yep. They’re my diaries,” you grinned, “The next time Rintarou comes here, I’ll give these to him as my final gift. And if I live on after that… well it’ll be embarrassing if he’s read how I feel about him.”

“Ya say that as if you two ain’t been in a relationship for decades now.”

“Shinsuke! How rude…”

You two shared a small laugh in the winter night. 

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

A few nights passed and Rintarou shot out of his sleep as he felt something was wrong. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. 

These past nights, instead of sleeping in the den with the other kitsunes as usual, he had been sleeping on the shrine’s roof. He felt that the closer he was to you, the more at ease he could be. But alas, every night his heart still felt heavy and worried. It didn’t help that the two of you hadn’t talked since the night you asked him to leave you alone. 

But tonight he knew he had to see you. 

Rintarou jumped off the roof and hurried to your room before sliding open the door quickly yet silently. 

“Y/N,” he spoke before gasping as he saw you curled up and shivering under the blanket at the sudden draft of cold air.

“R-Rin? What are you doing-”

Without a word, he quickly shut the door and fell to his knees to hold you close in an attempt to warm you up. Though he could feel your body warming slightly, all he could think about was how cold you were.

“You’re so warm…” You mumbled and buried your face into the crook of his neck.

“Yeah?” He asked with a nervous chuckle. 

“Mmhm.” You leaned into his chest as your frail fingers trailed their way up his warm body. “So… so warm.”

“I’m using my magic, you know? I’m supposed to be the colder one here.” Rintarou brushed away a few strands of hair in front of your face.

“Hm… I guessed so,” you hummed and gently stroked his soft face. Not that you could really feel it anymore - your fingertips could barely feel anything. “Rin-kun, can I give you something?”

“You should focus on resting. I can get that later when you’ve recovered.” The kitsune insisted. Though he knew he was just saying that in reassurance. Whether that was to you or to himself, he didn’t know.

“Rintarou, we both know I might not live for much longer.” You coughed dryly as you spoke. Slowly, you removed your head from his neck and looked up at him with tired eyes. “Please, just let me do what I want to do.”

Rintarou bit his cheek, staring into your dull eyes with his own golden ones. Sure, he had the powers to heal you, but you kept insisting he let you pass like a normal human would, and neither did he possess the power to bring you back. This truly was a final request from you. 

He nodded and helped you sit up properly, eyes following your hands as they reached for a small stack of books sitting beside you. There were four, no, five books, labelled ‘one’ through to ‘five’. 

“I wrote these. It’s a bit embarrassing to say… but I wrote about my time at the shrine and about you so I wouldn’t ever forget them,” You smiled weakly at your memories of writing in the books almost every night, “I think, in total… my memories with you take up about four of these books.”

Rintarou couldn’t speak. All he could do was let the books rest in his hands, unable to even find the strength to hold them properly. 

“I doubt I kept everything in there. There’s a lot, you know? I forget things and I don’t remember a lot of what I wrote. But I know I wrote about my favourite things like when… when we went fishing and those twins fell in the lake. And the summer festival where it rained so he had to have an extra day for fireworks. And when we held our own marriage ceremony in the forest with Shinsuke as our priest. Do you remember that?”

“Y-Yeah… I remember.” Rintarou’s voice cracked as he remembered the bright sunny day where you held his hand in the glade and shared sake with him. It was funny, thinking that a few decades had passed since that day yet he could remember it like it was yesterday. Yet it was likely already distant for you. 

You looked over and laughed quietly upon seeing him holding back his tears. “I haven’t seen you like this since the wedding.” He chuckled lightly until you began to cough loudly. As always, Rintarou was quick to knock on your back until the coughing stopped and he helped you lie down on your side.

Instinctively, he got under the blanket with you.

“Hm… I’m glad I get to experience my husband holding me one last time,” you say softly and bury your face in his warm chest, “You’ll stay here, right? Until the very end?”

“Of course.” Rintarou mumbled and rested his chin on the top of your greying head. “I’ll always be here.”

“Wouldn’t it be so embarrassing if I woke up the next morning all okay?”

“I wouldn’t laugh.”

“You would in a few days.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that.”

“I don’t think it’s happening though.”

“Neither do I.” 

The kitsune stroked your back softly. It was always nice for you, but for him it was calming. He figured that he didn’t want your last memory of him to be of him sobbing uncontrollably. 

“If it were to end like this, I’d be happy though.” Your muffled voice spoke into his chest. It was nice, he thought, the feeling of his chest vibrating as you spoke into it. 

“I’d be happy for you too.” Rintarou mumbled, glad that you couldn’t see his face and the way he was pursing his lips harshly in an attempt to not cry. 

A few more moments of silence passed before he heard your quiet sobbing.

“Actually, I think I don’t want to die. I wish I could live with you forever, Rintarou. I wish that I could kiss you every morning and every night, and I want to watch the fireworks with you every summer festival.” Your tears were soaking his clothes as you sobbed. “I wish… I wish so many things. I’m so happy with what I’ve done in this tiny life with you but I just wish… I wish more could’ve happened.”

It took all of his own power for Rintarou to stay strong, to not weep and make your final memories horribly sad. Alas, a tear escaped from the corner of his eye, and soon more followed, disappearing into the pillow on which his head rested.

He knew he had to say something. 

Taking in a deep breath, he called your name softly and cupped your cheek. The flow of your tears had slowed and you managed to tilt your head up to face your husband.

“I will always, always love you. And someday, whether we exist as ourselves or not, we will love each other again. I promise.”

With his words, you could only begin to cry again, though this time with a smile on your face.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Your voice was tinged with both sadness and playfulness. 

The kitsune smiled weakly at your words and allowed you to lean closer to him, capturing his lips with yours. The kiss was weak, tired, and sad. Yet at the same time it was powerful and blissful. He noticed the grip your hands had on his arm weakened and by the time you pulled away from him, it was gone.

You took in a shaky breath and smiled softly.

“I love you, Rintarou.”

And with that, your eyelids shut and the last of your tears fell. 

With that, Rintarou’s body began to shake as he sobbed into your body. Crying, coughing, wailing in the pain of your loss. 

He held you until your body had become as cold as the snow falling outside the door, and by then he knew he had to leave. The other shrine maidens would come to check on you soon anyways. 

“Goodbye, Y/N.” He mumbled softly and placed a final kiss to your forehead before leaving the room with heavy but silent footsteps.

And as he walked through the snowy forest, he realised how dark it was. Looking up at the sky, he realised only the stars shone without the brilliant moon to accompany them. 

“How fitting,” Rintarou mumbled and turned his gaze back to the snow-covered ground.

[givemeonebreath]

A big, messy Linked Universe playlist

Link for Links

Heavy on the angst, because of who I am as a person. (At the same time, don’t take it too seriously, man.)

Influenced by canon, manga (TP Link is really Going Through It™ ), my personal perceptions, and popular fandom canon.

A pretty wide variety of genres, with a bias towards metal and prog rock.

I kept snippets of lyrics for most songs, also because of who I am as a person. (Some were particularly hard to narrow down to just one verse or chorus.) Those - and a little more rambling - are under the cut if you really want, in the order of the playlist. But. It’s long.

I didn’t initially make this with the intent to share, but hey. Throughout my past year+ of listening, I’ve been haphazardly adding songs to a playlist I very creatively named Links. If something reminded me of them, whether through the music or lyrics or both, I threw it on the playlist, so some songs might seem odd or vague. Some are really on the nose, as subtle as a sledgehammer. (Sky for Sky? Dude. Sorry.) Some are there because of a fitting line or two that stuck in my head. Ultimately, music - like any form of creative expression - can be interpreted in a multitude of ways. 

My listening habits and tastes are erratic, which is why this is one big, jumbled playlist and not separated for different Links. Not to mention if I did that, some (Wild, Legend) would have a lot and some (Wind, Four) would have none, both because of my own familiarity with them, and because of the general themes of the music I tend to listen to. Most songs are a general ‘hero’s spirit reborn’ mood, anyway - those are the first part of the playlist. The second half is more nuanced to specific Links, plus a few Ganon vibes.

1. Deep Purple - April (Koji Kondo, composer of the original Legend of Zelda theme, was into Deep Purple as a kid, and it shows.)

2. Kamelot - Regalis Apertura

3. Au4 - So Just Hang On, Beautiful One (I’ve posted this here before. I can’t hear it without thinking of LU now.) So I slipped in through the gate almost unknown. All my border stamps were late. Seven days old. Cold hand griped my shoulder blade, broke the bone. Bloody nose and turned away, all the way home.

4. FC Kahuna - Hayling Don’t think about all those things you fear, just be glad to be here

5. Glass Animals - Youth Boy, when I left you you were young I was gone, but not my love You were clearly meant for more Than a life lost in the war

6. Pain of Salvation - Restless Boy A restless boy in a world too slow A flame born into cinder, ash, and glow I've given everything I gave it all Yet find myself alone

7. Haken - The Endless Knot Our design shifted frame by frame! Across the line our cycle starts to fail. Our design shifted frame by frame! Across the line we die to live again.   We need a story to believe in. We need a hero to prevail. We need a challenge we can overcome, it takes a tragedy to make us one 

8. Kamelot - Memento Mori (I particularly associate this with Time and Twilight) I am the god in my own history The master of the game I may believe if she would come to me And whisper out my name Sometimes I wonder where the wind has gone If life has ever been Sometimes I wonder how belief alone Can cut me free from sin

9. Katatonia - Fighters Look I told you so We never stop If we said that We'll back it up For sure You know We're fighters

10. Megadeth - This Day We Fight! (I mean, all Links, but particularly Warriors) For this I was chosen, because I fear nothing With confidence I tread through the dead of the night Off to another war-torn, faraway battlefield Wherein lies a demonic enemy horde

11. Moon Tooth - Igneous Well, the spirit took me And this old broken body leapt up and danced Settin’ out Settin' out with all my heroes in a bundle at my back Hawk am I More wings span in my shadow than overcast Yeah, you know what they say Always need something to look up to, ha

12. Samael - Moongate Destiny, tomorrow is today Destiny, without boundaries How many nights will we spend together traveling infinity back and forth and again How many times will we go together questioning eternity about us about our wonders...

13. TOOL- Parabola This body holding me reminds me of my own mortality Embrace this moment, remember We are eternal, all this pain is an illusion

14. Lunatic Soul - Blood on the Tightrope No matter how hard you try To shut down your feverish thoughts They hunt you down with no regret Cause you have to fix it all

15. Hybrid - Keep It In The Family

16. Soul Savers - Unbalanced Pieces Gone, now carry on Through violent seasons I call you mother, mother, mother In vain, absent chain The twilight's bleeding And the playing board has two unbalanced pieces

17. Steve Von Till - Valley of the Moon All she gives is a stone facade Like ill-given flowers at a dead man's wake Here we slave for the dreams of another And fight over scraps like wayward dogs

18. Ludovico Einaudi - Experience

19. Lunatic Soul - Summoning Dance Three stones on the right side Three stones on the left My vicious circle of life and death   “Oh you want it” I hear it again “Oh you want it” My burden Curse to break

20. Lunatic Soul - Through Shaded Woods Run through your shaded woods Run through your shaded mind Run through the night Run away Run through the darkness Run

21. Lunatic Soul - Naavie

22. David Bowie - Nature Boy There was a boy A very strange, enchanted boy They say he wandered very far Very far, over land and sea A little shy and sad of eye But very wise was he

23. The Dandy Warhols - Sleep Well, I could sleep forever But it's of her I dream If I could sleep forever I could forget about everything 

24. Au4 - Everyone is Everyone (and Everything is Everything) Tripping and tumbling, Flipping and fumbling. Flowing on the rivers of sadness That have been forever rumbling.   But from dawn until now Of all the paths that I could have gone down Of all the valleys That I could have been flowing through.   In spite of all the chaos And all that has come between us, How is it I still find myself Here with you. 

25. Kingcrow - Everything Goes Your hands again upon the ground Falling rain for hours and hours As you learn the game Time dispels the fog ... Ever been there? Ever felt like prey? Ever thought your mind was feeble? Lot of things that don’t make sense

26. Pain of Salvation - Icon As a child I felt too old And now when I'm grown-up I feel too young A different kind so I've been told Just slightly out of reach and out of time

27. Sophia Loizou - Divine Interference (I got spooky dungeon vibes. Also, the title.)

28. Carpenter Brut - Fab Tool Runnin Gunnin Forward in the phantom shatter so grand Splatter grand, arcanum fuel Wrought iron out of the sky Over me, tells no lie

29. Blue Stahli - Death Will Have to Run All on the open road Where none will ever grow A journey toward the known With countless miles to go

30. Gyroscope - Mistakes & Ladders I am the first? No I can't be the first A continuous nothing, destined for something Tell me who you are and why you trapped me here

31. Queens of the Stone Age - Run, Pig, Run Run, pig, run Here I come

32. Chali 2na & Krafty Kuts - Guard The Fort The swords are drawn and odds are stacked And we clash the impact's a thunderous clap Calm demeanor Even though we are under attack [...my turn to guard the fort ready for combat]

33. The Great Discord - Army of Me (lol)

34. Kongos - Terrified I think I'll start again and change my name You only live once or twice, what a shame Somebody fucked up when designing this game

35. Woodkid - Run Boy Run Run, boy, run! This ride is a journey to Run, boy, run! The secret inside of you Run, boy, run! This race is a prophecy Run, boy, run! And disappear in the trees

36. The Beta Machine - The End A million miles away from you this time I'll do what it takes I'm on my way If lines are in the sand I'll go under If I can make it in time I will bring you back with me

37. Devin Townsend Project - Gump When we last met who was I? I'm sorry we no longer see eye to eye The energy to keep you in while keeping myself out I'm sorry how you'll take this  But I just don't have the patience anymore 

38. Arrested Youth - Riot! I can't get much satisfaction living in this cave It's tough to breathe, I'm in the belly of the beast Can't sleep with all my rage With me and all my generations living in this cage Pick up your guns and tell your sons, tonight we break the cage

39. Led Zeppelin - Friends So anytime somebody needs you Don't let them down, although it grieves you Some day you'll need someone like they do Looking for what you knew

40. Faunts - M4, pt 2 (Wild) Fight your foes you're not alone Holy war is on the phone Asking to please stay on hold Bleeding loss of blood runs cold And I need you to recover   Because I can't make it on my own

41. Faith No More - Ashes to Ashes (Wild) I want them to know it's me, it's on my head I'll point the finger at me, it's on my head Smiling with the mouth of the ocean And I'll wave to you with the arms of the mountain

42. Devin Townsend - Jupiter (Wild) I know you At least I think I do Everything's changed But in the days that are so dark It's wonderful

43. Katatonia - Neon Epitaph (Wild) Shadow of my shadow Cling not to my grief I am long left behind now You are free

44. The Smashing Pumpkins - The Beginning is the End is the Beginning (Wild) Time has stopped before us The sky cannot ignore us No one can separate us For we are all that is left The echo bounces off me The shadow lost beside me There's no more need to pretend Cause now I can begin again 

45. Katatonia - Lacquer (Wild) My voice travelling Soaring bird above your head The house we lived in Ridden with disease ... The levee breaking I can't live to fight once more The road to the grave is straight as an arrow I'm just staying around to sing your song, baby

46. Eskimo Joe - This is Pressure (Wild) There is no romance in suffocation  The walls fall down like your expectations You want to scream  And you want to shout But you've built up steam  And you can't let it out This is pressure 

47. Portugal. The Man - 1000 Years (Wild) We'll wait 1000 years  Until the end of time We'll wait 1000 more Dressed up in gold and white We'll climb the mountain sides  To find what's in the sky We'll dig through mountain sides  To find what's deep inside

48. Au4 - An Ocean’s Measure of Sorrow (Wild) Forgot my name and who I was. Memories of nothing floating up. All of the sorrow we once knew, Colours the ocean's water blue.

49. Band of Skulls - Carnivorous (Twilight) I am corrosive and cohesive Like a chemical bond I'm all together undone I am the broken kingdom I'm just so, so, so  So carnivorous

50. Glass Animals - Flip (Twilight) I wanna go back with a club and attack I wanna take to my guns and break you I gotta make my little foe take his own

51. TV on the Radio - Wolf Like Me (Twilight) My mind has changed my body's frame, but, God, I like it My heart's aflame, my body's strained, but, God, I like it

52. Kamelot - The Spell (Twilight) All my demons cast a spell The souls of dusk rising from the ashes So the book of shadows tell The weak will always obey the master

53. OSI - Radiologue (Legend) I was dreaming I was heading west thirty days faster Had a fever woke up in a sweat bailing out the water  Can't go on Can't go back   Heard your voice coming through the noise wrote it in the radio log Hurt my head, wondering what you said so I threw it overboard  

54. Katatonia - Don’t Tell A Soul (Legend) I have been destroyed by the perfection that is a lie see I'm moving soon see my feet are already on the road and if you know where I’m going don’t tell a soul

55. Haken - The Mind’s Eye (Legend) The shape of things to come are closer than they seem Changing your design every time you disappear I'm planning my escape through portals of your mind Where people seem to drop like flies

56. Pain of Salvation - Species (Legend) Sometimes I hate my fucking species Yet most days I'll do anything to please it  My generation was fooled to pursue our dreams But it is not what it seems You never need what you want And you rarely want what you need

57. Euringer - Do You Kiss Your Mama with That Mouth? (Legend) All my life, misunderstood I'm fuckin' too smart, too smart for my own good The last question, before I go is "Hey motherfucka, do you kiss your mama with that mouth?"  Yes! I kiss your mama with this mouth

58. !!! - Pardon My Freedom (Legend) Like I give a fuck, like I give a shit Like I give a fuck about that shit Like I give a fuck about that motherfucking shit

59. Team Sleep - Ataraxia (Legend) Froze asleep Coma deep I dream I'm out with you Alone at sea

60. Oliver Tank - Embrace (Legend) You're in my dreams The world is torn apart at the seams And I don't wanna leave Wearing my heart on it's sleeve

61. Machine Gun Fellatio - The Girl of My Dreams (Is Giving Me Nightmares) (Legend) The girl of my dreams is giving me nightmares I don't know what it means but she's got multi-coloured hair When she stands in the sand I dream of peaches And I'm not sure what that means either

62. Earl Greyhound - Shotgun (Legend & Hyrule) I am nobody, nobody is who I am I am a traveler on this land And nothing, nothing, nothing in my hands

63. TV on the Radio - Staring at the Sun (Hyrule) You're staring at the sun You're standing in the sea Your mouth is open wide You're trying hard to breathe The water's at your neck There's lightning in your teeth Your body's over me

64. Echo & The Bunnymen - The Killing Moon (Time) Fate Up against your will Through the thick and thin He will wait until You give yourself to him

65. Sufjan Stevens - Sugar (Sky) Don’t break my heart, don’t break my flow now And all this rage has got to go now Let’s take up this lifeline Come on, baby, gimme some sugar Don’t make me wait Don’t make me wait too long Don’t make me sing the sad song Come on, baby, gimme some sugar

66. Obsydians - Ascension (Sky) Rise above the hardships you’ll face I will sign and keep on rising As long as you are giving me your soul and keep me awake Feel like home and spread your light around I will listen and just be there As long as you are giving me your love I’ll give you my soul

67. Sonique - Sky -_-

68. Enter Shikari - The King (Ganon) Watch your back, my friend I'm about to kickstart a cycle Of never ending revenge And this time it's primal, it's tribal

69. Saul Williams - WTF! (Ganon, Hylia) "You've been polluted, uprooted by time You have been muted, computed but I'm A living vessel of the one, of the moon, of the sun" Hey! You ain't as dead as you seem, what the fuck? Hey! But you keep living your lies

70. These New Puritans - We Want War (Ganon/ Dark Link/ any nemesis I guess) Shadows dance back up, it's happening again If you listen carefully you might hear them whisper: "We hold all the secrets, we hold all the words; But they're scrambled and broken so you'll never know" Can't you see them Floating like black ash? Can't you feel them Crawling down your back?

[vegalocity]

5 and 21 for Spicynoodleshipping?

Prompt meme

5. Reunion kiss \\ 21. A promise

Hell yeah Hell Yeah Hell Yeah

--

“Look, splitting off fully from my parents is going to be rough. There's a lot of...things that are gonna make this difficult. Both physically and..mentally. So I will have to be gone for awhile, I have a few favors I need to call in and if we want even a modicum of peace afterward i'm going to need to really make my departure inconvenient. It may not be much, but I can at least break what i've built over the centuries.” Red Son had taken his hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles, eyes shut as though to savor the moment “But I will return. Nothing will keep me from returning to you, I swear it.”

That was four months ago. And he hadn't heard anything from Red Son since. Or anything from the Demon Bull family. Of course things weren't necessarily quieter, they never were nowadays, but it was mostly at the fault of random infrequent demons trying their luck rather than anything planned. Mk was worried. He'd started getting worried after that first month had passed, when the second month had gone through doubt had niggled at the base of his spine, the question of if this whole thing was even real. No, no if it was fake if Red Son had been playing him this whole time he wouldn't have just vanished he could have just.. Killed MK and be done with it, he'd had more than enough oppertunities how many nights they'd speant together by that time. How many times MK had been in a dead sleep trusting that Red Son ould either be asleep at his side or sneaking off in the night to return home.

But no, their...arrangement had grown in the time they'd been together, and when Red Son had to return to playing the 'dutiful son' role he'd been growing more and more reluctant. MK knew he felt trapped by his parents, unable to break away quietly, but he'd been stalling their progress behind the scenes for months before he'd vanished. Red Son had switched sides, MK could trust him. He could trust he'd be back.

And then the third month passed and a new doubt began to arise. What if he'd failed? What if he'd done what he could, called in his favors, left a trail of explosions and broken tech in his wake and shouted to the heavens and his baffled parents that he was moving out, but he'd failed?  What if they'd caught up with him before he'd made it back and locked him away? What if he was bound to his room in the firey mountains, unable to contact anyone or escape and his only optionw as to wait until Mk grew tired of waiting and went to find him? DBK and Iron Fan weren't exactly kind but they wouldn't hurt him would they? Red Son and Iron Fan had helped him in freeing DBK from the White Bone Spirit because they knew he wouldn't try to hurt Red Son unless something else was in control. But what if they found out that Red Son was intending on leaving them? On turning against them? What if-

When the fourth month had hit MK was one confirmation that Red Son wasn't okay way from going from hero to vigilante and just hunting the bull family down himself and demanding Red's releasement from wherever they'd imprisoned him.

The others had long since noticed his unease and MK knew they were all worried about him, but he was gonna keep his mouth shut about it until he had confirmation one way or the other. Mei could try to pry to her hearts content, Pigsy could do that thing that he does where he gripes about Mk's delivery ethic slipping but shooting him those uncomfortable steady looks, Tang could make as many vague statements with that vague 'knows too much already' expression, and Sandy could bribe him with as many cat cuddles and fancy teas and snacks that he possibly could. MK would rather spend hours if not days on end with Monkey King working on meditation because he wouldn't actually move on with their lessons until he actually told him what had him so freaked than deal with spilling the secret prematurely. If Red Son was not actively by his side when he told his friends everything he knew exactly what would happen if any of his friends found out about them.

Questions upon questions on if he was sure that this was Real, and for all he knew right now, Red Son had been playing him and got bored, and what do you mean you let him into your flat what do you MEAN you actually slept with-

But here he was, four months and five days into this endless worrying, it was starting to become route at this point. Being as okay as possible so his friends didn't think he was TOO freaked about things and eventually decide not to take no for an answer, tumbling back into his flat at a dark hour, make something simple if he was still hungry, and then lay in bed worrying for a few hours before he finally passed out.

But today was different, though it didn't seem like it at first. He'd just changed out of his work clothes and flipped his TV on to some random infomercial channel to fill the silence and there was a soft 'click' indicating his window being unlocked. He'd stiffened, four months of anxiety and far longer than that of Monkie Kid training making him ready to fight at the drop of a hat.

But then he heard him.

“A little help please?”

“Red Son!” Mk whirled in place and raced to the window, crossing the room in only a short few strides and grabbing hold of Red Son's arm, pulling him through all the way. Red Son hissed in pain as he planted firmly on the ground, and MK noticed a bit of blood training down from a ripped sleeve.

“What happened?! Are you alright?” did they hurt you?

“I'll be fine, I made a small miscalculation in the fuel output of the Bull Clones i'd set to self destruct and got a bit of shrapnel in my arm for the trouble.” He shrugged as though it weren't a big deal and shrugged the two bags he had with him off of either shoulder, the overstuffed duffel going down with a heavy 'thud' and the camping backpack with a light 'pomf' “But it got the message across.” he wiped his cheek with his uninjured arm, the soot on his sleeve rubbing off. “You know I never really realized how much of either of our homes were based on my own tech until I started sabotaging everything and realized I had to dial it back a bit so I wouldn't kill anyone.”

The relief that crashed through MK was near overwhelming. Four months worth of stress and anxiety lifting in a rush and making him lightheaded. MK cupped Red Son's cheek with his hand, trying to rub the soot off of his cheek, only to dirty his own hand instead. “You're back.” Red Son smiled at him, placing his hand atop MK's.

“Nothing could keep me away.” He turned his head just a bit to press a kiss to the heel of MK's hand. “I missed you.” the sudden rush of relief when he'd spent so long highstrung and ready was already making him crash, he felt weak in the knees.

Instead of answering with his own traded 'I miss you' MK surged forward and pressed his mouth against Red Son's. Pouring the emotion into the kiss instead.

--

Prompt meme

[tae-cup]

Down With The Ship | FINALE

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Female!Reader

Summary: Captain Jeon Jungkook; a beautiful mess of blood and gold. His greatest treasure, may also be his greatest downfall.

Genre: Pirate!au

Warnings: Angst, some fluffy stuff, panic attacks, blood

Rating: T for Teens

A/N: Alexa, play Roslyn by Bon Iver and St. Vincent. aaaaaaand that’s a wrap! I’m honestly in love with this series and kind of want to make some spin offs, but I need to focus on like...my big series now XD 

Thanks for sticking around!

Word Count: 8k Words

Other: Masterlist

Previous 

Up with your turret Aren't we just terrified? Shale, screen your worry From what you won't ever find

           Him had a face. Him had a name. Eun-kyung haunted your dreams. The deep blue of his irises visited you at night and his soft hands touched your waist, your arms, and legs. The most innocent of touches giving you the fluttering of butterflies in your stomach. 

          You were broken out of your trance by a hand waving in front of your face. You blinked, startled. 

“Oh, sorry.” You murmured, brushing back a strand of hair as you met the gaze of the frowning captain. 

“Are you sick? Tired?” The genuine concern that tinged his voice was new to you. 

            You smiled softly and shook your head, turning back to sketching out the map before you. It was so nice above deck where you and Jungkook sat on the planks. He dictated anything interesting he saw and you sketched the coastline. 

“I’m alright, Jungk-Captain.” 

        He paused, looking at you for a moment. Then he turned back to observing the land mass ahead. “You can call me Jungkook. I don’t mind.” 

        His words made you smile a little and you didn’t know how his heart quickened when you smiled. 

“I see a large mountain in the distance. It seems to be of cold climate.” 

“That explains the wind.” You rubbed at the pinkened end of your nose. He noticed you shivering and, in an action that surprised both you and him, he shrugged off his coat and handed it to you. 

“Stay warm, Y/N. And head inside soon before you catch a cold.” He then wandered back below deck without another word. 

             You liked the way your name rolled off his tongue. His mouth moved around it harshly, like a command, while Eun-kyung always spoke it like a soft prayer on his lips. The callous nature of the man did not surprise you, he was a pirate after all and Eun-kyung had simply been your guard. But he was so much more than that. If Eun-kyung was the sturdy land, Jungkook was the crashing sea. And you had always loved the sea more than the land. 

              You stood at the side, biting your lip in concentration. The murky water below reminded you of the day you walked the plank almost a year ago. It had been terrifying and calming at the time, but now it just gave you fond memories. You still weren’t allowed off the boat since you were a wanted woman. The thought sent you back to the weight that had been hanging on your shoulders. Were they still looking for you? Was Haneul getting closer? Every day it felt like you could turn a corner and he would be right there. 

             You gripped the pen tighter as you traced the coast. The air was chill and your ears were freezing, but Jungkook’s coat was wrapped tightly around you, the sleeves rolled up to keep from dragging on the page. You hummed a little to yourself, just admiring the sights before you. 

             It was odd how the ocean, so vast and oppressive at times, could fill you with such joy. The emptiness of the sea, no soul within miles, would put a normal person on edge, but when you loved the salt in the air as much as the crew of BTS, the loneliness didn’t seem all that bad. 

               Jungkook was on his daily rounds to make sure people were on task. He checked in on Jin who was cooking lunch. The older man quickly shooed him out of the kitchen, waving a wooden spoon as the captain shouted his protests. 

           Then he visited Namjoon, his trusty second, but he was busy reading a book. When he had entered the man’s cabin, he had simply peered up at him unamused and went back to reading. Who knew the captain of his own ship could be so easily rejected by his crewmates? He didn’t even bother with Yoongi, fully knowing the man was asleep.

            Surely Jimin will need my help with something? So he went to visit the blonde haired man. But he was busy cleaning and claimed he didn’t need the help. Hoseok was quite obviously steering the ship and Jungkook didn’t really need to help there. So he ended up standing beside you, thoroughly tired of his crew. 

“It’s like every time I try to do something nice for my crewmates, the universe rejects me.” He sighed, feeling a little more melancholic than usual.

          It was nearing the anniversary of the mutiny and though the blood was long washed away, he didn’t really want to spend it on the boat. You made a noise of acknowledgement, still focused on your drawing. 

“Words would be nice, little miss.”

You rolled your eyes at the nickname, but smiled nonetheless. “Oh boo hoo. No one wants to babysit the captain.” You turned to face him, a smirk on your face. 

            His cheeks grew red and he opened and closed his mouth. He didn’t know if he wanted to kiss or slap that smirk off your mouth. Was it scary that the urge to kiss you was stronger? To him it was terrifying. He already had six weaknesses composed of his crewmates, but having a lover? That would be his downfall, he just knew it. So at what point did the pros outweigh the cons? He would see to it that they never did. For his and your own sake. 

             The captain still couldn’t help tracing his eyes over your profile. From the slope of your nose to the outline of your lips. Then he studied your hands, the way you held your pen, the way you focused on the paper. 

“How long are you going to stare at me, lover boy?” You teased, having grown comfortable with the captain.

             You spent most of your time with him to help him navigate and work on the various maps. It was sort of exhausting to have one way conversations with him, but you were okay with it; it was like home. 

“Sorry.” His response made you frown slightly, but you returned to your work. 

“Does Namjoon dislike me, or something?” You asked cautiously, not looking up from your sketch. 

“No...I think he just...has trouble trusting people.” Jungkook huffed, blowing a strand of hair out of his face. 

        The door that led below deck flung open with a crash and Taehyung stumbled out, looking out of sorts. He immediately went to the side and hurled out his lunch. 

“Taehyung, are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!” You dropped your pad and pencil onto the deck and ran over to look at him. He was pale and wide eyed. 

“Just a nightmare.” He choked out, squeezing his eyes shut.

            You caught the glistening in his eyes before he left to sit against the wooden siding of the ship. He leaned his head back, brown hair splaying out in all directions, and pulled his knees in close to his chest. The man took deep breaths. 

“Must have been one hell of a nightmare.” You murmured, your tone concerned, and you were. You had never seen the man so disoriented. He was often a wild card between serious and loving, but never had you seen him off guard. 

The man didn’t respond. His hands gripped his knees. The captain watched his crewmate in sympathy. With a sad expression, he tugged on your arm. 

“Y/N, we should leave him be. There are some things you don’t have to know about.” 

“His name was Sam.” Taehyung whispered. Jungkook stopped, glancing back at the gunner with curiosity. When he didn’t continue, Jungkook took that as his cue to leave. He dragged you away, disappearing below deck. 

           His mind was spinning. He went in circles, memories playing on repeat like a video. Taehyung could feel Sam’s warm breath on his neck, the way his hands held his, the way he brushed against him. The man would always claim it was an accident, but Taehyung knew it wasn’t. 

            While the lull of the sea usually brought him peace, today it reminded him of everything he’d done wrong. 

“Aish, you need to let it go already.” Sam sat next to him, his ethereal form hovering above the deck. 

“You died right in my arms, Sam. It was my fault for not shooting the man before he shot you.”

“You were processing, it’s okay.”

“Why did I hesitate the one time it mattered?” 

“Because you’re human.” 

         Taehyung bumped his head against the side several times, trying to make the ghostly spirit go away. It was taunting him with a love he could no longer have.

“How can you forgive me?”

“You did all you could.” 

“Why aren’t you mad?”

             The ghost stood and crouched in front of him, body passing through Taehyung’s knees. He could almost feel the man’s touch, his ghostly fingertips tracing his cheek. Then the wind blew and reminded him of the simple chill that caused it. 

“I could never be mad at you Taehyung.”

              The man swallowed, watching the specter lean in, his ghost lips brushing over his warm ones. 

“How can you say that, Sam?” He said weakly. “When you’re the one with a bullet in your chest.” 

 “If you weren’t a pirate, Hoseok, what would you be doing?” You sat on the railing that overlooked the main deck. Your legs swung back and forth. The pilot thought over your question, his eyes still set on the horizon. 

            Hoseok, despite his sunny personality, could look rather serious, possibly angry, when he thought hard enough. He twisted the wheel, sending the boat closer to the mainland. 

“I think I would be a dancer.” 

“You dance?”

“I wanted to.” He corrected you. Then he released a sigh and placed a pole through one the rungs to hold the steering wheel while he took a break. “It wouldn’t have worked out. It wouldn’t have been a living.” 

“Can you show me?” You asked. He raised an eyebrow. 

“You want to see?” There was hope in his eyes as he spoke, his words holding an excitement. 

“Yeah, for sure!” You smiled widely, eager to see your crewmate either wow you or make you laugh. 

“Alright! But you’re getting in on it too, okay?” 

“That wasn’t the deal.” You crossed your arms. “Besides, I only know some ballroom dancing.”

“I’ll show you!” He exclaimed excitedly, taking your hand and leading you out to the main deck. 

           He bowed lowly, pecking your hand with his lips. You instantly flushed bright red and he looked up at you with a sly smile. 

“May I have this dance?” He asked.

“Most certainly, kind sir.” You played along, curtsying. 

            He chuckled and took your arm in his so you were facing opposite directions. Then he began skipping around in a circle, humming out a beat and melody. You laughed, forced to follow along with his antics. He then switched arms and continued the dance. Then he unhooked his arm, spinning you around in a circle. 

          You fought to regain your balance, the world spinning as you let out more squeals of excitement. He then held up his arm, intertwining his arm with yours. Your hands touched, fingers pointing upwards as he took a step forward, leading you in the new dance move. You both laughed in delight, dancing to the rhythm of the sea and humming a tune only you two knew. 

           There was a loud cough. The entire crew stood there, even Yoongi, watching you with varying expressions. Jimin looked eagerly between the two of you. Yoongi just sighed, but he didn’t move back below deck as he usually would. Jin was holding back a laugh and even Namjoon let his lips twitch into a smile. Jungkook looked the least pleased. 

“Hoseok, don’t you have a job to do?” The captain barked. 

“Sorry, captain.” Hoseok bowed and started leaving. You quickly grasped his arm, pulling him back. 

“Stop it, Jungkook.” You hissed, not bothering with the title. “You’re always trying to ruin the fun, loosen up and live a little.” 

           The crew stood still, glancing between the two of you. Jungkook turned on his heel, letting out a huff of air, his nostrils flaring. The rest of the crew awkwardly shuffled from foot to foot. 

“Jimin! Get over here, I can see you want to get in on it.” You winked, moving around to push the male towards Hoseok. 

         The older man easily took the younger in and started showing him the steps. You then shoved Namjoon and Jin together. Yoongi glanced at Taehyung who smirked. 

“No way.” Yoongi scoffed, ready to go back down below. 

          The others were already getting into the swing of things, switching partners and letting playful banter slip in between the melody they all started singing. 

“As I was a-walking down Paradise Street.” Jin sang, his voice clean without a warble. 

“To me way-aye, blow the man down.” The others chorused.

“A pretty young damsel I chanced for to meet.” Jimin rang out next, his voice like a bell and just as beautiful. 

“Give me some time to blow the man down!” They all sang back, erupting into laughter. 

         Taehyung reached out and grasped the older man’s sleeve. 

“Yoongi, I think it’s about time you joined the world of the living.” He stated firmly and dragged him out to dance with the others.

           It was soon a mess of laughter and drunken singing, although no one was drunk; they acted like it pretty well. Hoseok was clapping in time to the beat. You wanted to throw yourself into the mix, but you didn’t have a partner. The most eligible man was pissed off below deck, most likely brooding. 

           You wouldn’t have it. You marched down below, despite how much you hated the claustrophobic feeling of being below deck. You pounded on the captain’s office door and he responded with a stern come in. 

           You marched inside. 

“Captain Jeon Jungkook if you don’t go out there and dance right now, I’m going to drag you out. You can spend all your life hiding from your crew and holding up in your office when everyone is bonding. And you also need to stop brooding like some edgy man baby! Seriously! Loosen up!” You paced, ranting to the captain who sat looking amused at you. His arms were crossed and his eyebrows shot up at the words ‘man baby’. 

“Excuse me, is that anyway to speak to your captain?” He frowned, effectively cutting you off. “Maybe I have been too lenient with you and the crew.” 

           Then he caught himself in the mirror and sagged, suddenly lost in thought. That was something Captain Rogers would say. Except, when he looked at you, you weren’t shaking and crying, you weren’t flinching at his gaze. Instead, you stood straighter. 

“You need to be more lenient to yourself, Jungkook.” You stepped around the desk and he swiveled his chair around to face you. 

           Jungkook had such a youthful face, it was a shame he spoiled it so often with frowns. You could almost see the stress wrinkles already forming. You reached forward, harmlessly brushing your hands with his. He pulled his hand away like you’d burned him. 

“Is everything...is everything alright Jungkook?” You asked quietly. 

          He couldn’t think. The world was spinning. Being in that office, being touched, watching himself in the mirror, it was already painful enough. When he looked at you, it wasn’t you that stared back, he only saw Captain Rogers. His breaths came out hurried and short. 

“Look, I’m sorry if I’m pushing you to do something you don’t want to do, but going outside your comfort zone is good sometimes, okay?” You reached out once again and firmly held his hand in yours. 

           The brush of skin on skin made him nauseous. Your grip was suffocating. He felt like he was drowning. The room felt stuffy, his breaths came shorter and shorter. His eyes wildly gazed around your face, begging to see you and not Captain Rogers. But he only saw the old man’s yellowed grin staring back at him, his lips spewing your words. The anger was back, a simmering pot of rage. 

“Don’t touch me.” He said softly. 

“What?” You tilted your head, trying to understand what was happening. 

“I said don’t touch me!” He ripped his hand away and stood, staggering back a couple of steps. “You don’t know anything about me!” He barked. 

          His hands trembled and he held his stomach, trying to hold onto its contents. The ghost touches were still there, making him bend over as he tried his best to keep down his lunch. 

“Get out!” He shouted. Then his voice went quiet as he trembled. “Just get out.” 

         He pointed weakly towards the door and you simply nodded and left, as much as you wanted to help him. 

         He crumpled to the floor, taking in deep breaths as he ran his hands over his arms. I am in control. I am in control now. It was a soft chant in his head as he sat in his little office; his cage. 

             You couldn’t sleep. The memory of Jungkook tainted your mind. Your heart had been racing since you left his office. He hadn’t arrived for dinner, but Jin delivered it to his office. He didn’t say his usual goodnights to the rest of the crew and so the day ended bitterly. Everyone knew something was wrong with the captain and you didn’t want to pry, but you knew it had something to do with what happened today. 

              The utter terror he had stared at you with had made your heart drop instantly. The way he flinched when you touched him sent you tumbling into a spiral of self doubt. What mattered was no longer how he made you feel, but how you had made him feel. Was he okay? Did he eat his dinner?

               You took a deep breath. With both Eun-kyung and Jungkook haunting your sleep, you could no longer rest. You stood and made your way out to the main deck. There was no wind tonight. The air was still and the ocean eerily calm. The stars twinkled brightly like a blanket of holes in the dark night. The moon was a perfect circle, providing ample light. You leaned against the side. The waves lapped playfully against the wood of the ship. There was a gentle breeze that blew through your hair every so often. 

              Your nightgown wasn’t the warmest thing to wear, but you didn’t plan on being out for long. It was so quiet your ears rang. There wasn’t a single soul for miles and miles. The peace was nice. 

“Can’t sleep?’ The familiar rumble of the captain’s voice met you in the silence. \

              His soft steps made their way to stand beside you. He leaned against the railing. Your heart thumped. You shook your head in response to his question. Jungkook let out a soft sigh. 

“Yeah, me neither.” He agreed, eyes trained on the dark sea below. 

              You shifted awkwardly, making sure to keep your distance. You turned to him, admiring the way the shadows fell on his face in the moonlight. 

“Look, I’m sorry about earlier, I didn’t know what was happening and I pushed you. It was wrong. I’m really really sorry.” You said earnestly, hands clenched. He inhaled sharply, shutting his eyes and nodding. 

“I know. It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known. I’m not a very open person.” He confessed. “It was just...something that happened in the past.” 

          You didn’t want to pry so you nodded and left it at that. He scooted closer to you. You took a step back. He snorted. 

“I’m not fragile. I just had a moment there.” The captain said, but his tone was a little saddened. 

            You fell silent. He shifted toward you and you didn’t move a muscle. 

“Y/N?” 

“Hm?” Your hair was ruffled by the wind again. He was mesmerized by your beauty. Pros and cons be damned. 

“You make me feel...things I didn’t think were possible.” He admitted. “I think I like you...a lot, but I was never taught love or really kindness at all growing up. So I would probably never be able to love you the way you want because I just don’t know how but-”

“Wait, you...like me?” You froze, eyes widening at the captain. 

          He looked more like a stuttering school boy, clearly having never matured much in the love department. You let a smile break out on your face at his almost nonexistent nod. You resisted the urge to grab his hands. 

“Good, because I like you too.” You confessed, your face heating up. He grinned, then tentatively reached for your hands. 

“I want to learn. I want to try, but you’ll have to be patient with me, Y/N.” He explained cautiously.

          Then he carefully took your hands in his, ignoring the way his skin crawled at the contact. Your wrists. Wrists that had never had a bruise on them. His wrists. Wrists that were a permanent shade of purple and blue. He could try. For you he could try. 

           You returned to your room that night, your heart thumping wildly. The simplest of touches, holding hands, had sent your heart soaring. Your mind was running wild with the picture. That night, you dug the gold wedding ring out of your bag. You held it up to the moonlight, watching it shine and glint of the metal. Then you unlatched the cabin window, letting the cool air infiltrate your room. 

           You stuck your hand out and let go, watching as the golden ring that acted as your chain went tumbling all the way down into the water. It’s impact was a mere ripple in the dark waters. 

            It had been months since you set foot on land. You hadn’t missed it, not really. The swaying of the ship you had become accustomed to and as long as you had your crew, you were happy anywhere. 

          The dashing captain set foot next to you and you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Being off the ship gave you a sense of dread. The shackles of social norms and manners were shackles to weigh on you. 

“Hey, you’ll be okay.” Jungkook said calmly and you took that as a sign you should move. The other members accompanying you were Yoongi and Jin. 

           You were paranoid and that was only made a little better by Jungkook being there. You browsed the shops, full well knowing Jungkook could buy the whole town with his money and still have enough left over to last a lifetime. You picked up a necklace, the silver chain was made of delicate links. There was a yellow amulet attached.

         Jungkook leaned over you, his skin still never touching yours. He had revealed very little about his past and even then it was rather cryptic. All you could do was assure him that whatever happened when he was growing up was wrong. From the scars on his back and arms, you could piece together a little bit of his story at least. And it wasn’t a story you wanted to read. 

           Jungkook fingered the jewel for a moment, turning it over in his hands. He then held it up to the sunlight and sucked in a breath. It’s genuine. He thought to himself. Then he handed it back over to you. 

“You should get it.” He said quietly, his breath hot against your ear. “It suits you.” 

             Heat crawled up your neck and he smirked as you paid for the necklace without a second thought. The feeling of being watched didn’t disappear as you continued shopping. 

“Y/N?” An all too familiar voice called. It caught you off guard, your breath hitching. 

             You had always thought Haneul had a similar voice to Eun-kyung. The resemblance was uncanny as your supposed fiance appeared. Jungkook immediately stood on guard, hand moving to his waistband where his gun was holstered. Haneul was not a bad guy. He was stuck in a similar predicament as you. 

“Y/N, I can’t believe it’s you.” The man breathed. “Everyone thinks you died!”

“Good!” You spat, standing firmly next to Jungkook. The crowd had yet to notice the scuffle breaking out. “So where’s your back up, huh?” 

“I don’t have any. I seriously didn’t expect you to be here.” Haneul held up his hands as a sign of mercy. 

          Jungkook didn’t loosen. It was like something bad always happened to you when you went on land. It was a little exhausting at this point. 

“Please, you and I both didn’t want this, but if I don’t bring you back and marry you, I’m going to be disowned. My parents can’t have a bachelor son who couldn’t even keep track of his fiance in their image.” 

           You almost felt bad for him. You had both been forced into the situation and while you fled and started a new life, he was forced to bear the brunt of your actions. And for that I’m sorry. You thought, but you didn’t have the decency to voice your thoughts. 

“There’s no way she’s going to marry you.” Jungkook’s eyes were wild. 

            He began playing the part of the maddened captain everyone saw him as. And you saw it too, just for a moment. Was there any way out of this predicament without violence? Surely Haneul would not let you simply walk away. He had been waiting a little over a year to find you and keep his head from being disowned. There was no way he was about to let you go. 

“If she doesn’t, It’ll cause a massive uproar in the houses!”

“Good.” Jungkook spat. 

            You knew how chaotic that would be. While you were technically a pirate who cause chaos all the time, you were not a crew who did so ‘just because’. This just didn’t have a good reason. Besides, the noble houses were still a part of the hierarchy of society. What would happen if they were thrown into such unrest? 

“You still have a search warrant out for you, Y/N. The prices have been upping since your departure.” Haneul spoke. You frowned in response. “It’s at 500,000 gold shillings. That’s enough to last a man most of his lifetime in comfort.” 

“Yes, I know how many shillings that is.” You said bitterly. 

            You thought over your options. Running was out of the question. There were two of you and one of him. Your disadvantage would be running through the crowd and Haneul was always a fast runner. The second option was to stay and talk to him, but that gave him ample time to call for backup. The third option...was not one that would please Jungkook, but it was also the best way to get Haneul to stand down. 

What can ya say? If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. 

         Jungkook was reaching his breaking point. Your lightest touches were reversing years of mental and physical torture. While he’d never be whole ever again, you filled the space well enough. You were humming softly to yourself, a tune only you knew, as you filled in the key for the newest map. 

          “Y/N?” He called, watching you look up. Your eyes were curious as you stared at him. He felt his breath hitch at the way your hair fell perfectly around your face. 

           “What is it, Jungkook?” You asked. 

           “Thank you.” He said. 

           You tilted your head, eyebrows knitting together in the cutest expression. You set your pen down and reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. You made sure not to brush your hand against his cheek. 

            “For what?” 

            “Everything.” He said vaguely, years of practiced poise coming in between him speaking earnestly with you. 

             “Are you alright?” You stared intently into his eyes. You placed your hand on his forehead without thinking to check his temperature. Yet, his skin didn’t crawl at your contact. His forehead was warm, but normal, which meant he wasn’t sick. 

              Jungkook had a dam. It was a high wall and it built itself higher every time he held back his emotions. Behind was a swirling tide of tears and pain waiting to be released. The waters swelled once more. He bit his lip and started building the wall higher. His doe eyes widened as he tried to keep the tears at bay. When he looked into your eyes, you seemed to genuinely wonder if he was okay. When was he ever okay? 

             He inhaled shakily. 

            “Do you really want to know?” 

             “Yes.” You said without hesitation, shoving the papers in front of you to the side. The ink rolled onto the floor. He laced his fingers together, knees bouncing as he pondered what to say. 

              “Okay.” He released a breath. “I need to start at the beginning.” 

-

               When his story was told through and through, no detail spared no matter how gruesome, he finally met your gaze. In your eyes were...tears. You looked devastated and as much as you wanted to reach out and hold him, you knew how much he disliked skin on skin. 

                “What they did to you was wrong, Jungkook.” You said firmly, though your voice shook at the very last word. He closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair. 

               “I’ve been trying to convince myself of that since I was 18. But it’s easier said than done.” He felt the dam breaking. The wall was old, cracks letting out small streams of water. 

              “We can help you. We’ll be with you every step of the way.” You cleared your throat. “I will be with you every step of the way.” 

             The captain felt like a small child under your warm gaze. He was once again a vulnerable boy, one who couldn’t understand the evils befalling him. He threw his hands over his face, scooting his chair back and curling over in his lap. His head hit his thighs to avoid your eyes. The dam broke. 

          Haneul was tired. Tired and angry. A year of berating, pitied looks, and whispers behind his back had let the rage build up. He let it brew, blaming it all on you. You were the reason he was being disowned. You were selfish. You put him through this. Yet, he sat next to you, a bowl of soup in front of him and an anxious crew watching. 

           He carefully picked it up, examining the contents. Broth. Carrots. What else was in there? It couldn’t be too bad. You watched him with a smile, knowing he was probably going through the same thought process as you had.

“And there’s nothing else in this?” He said skeptically. 

“Just carrots and soup!” Jin defended. You snickered behind your hand. Jin turned and slapped your arm. “It is!” 

“If that’s just carrots and soup, then I’m just a brain on wheels.” You chuckled. 

“Seriously!” Jin shouted. Haneul sighed and took a sip. 

           He swallowed. The crew held their breaths. Then he went and took another bite. You gaped. 

“Oh it’s not too bad, Jin!” Haneul smiled, but his ears were growing red. “It had a little, achem, kick.” 

Jin puffed out his chest and crossed his arms. “See! You all underestimate me. Or maybe…”

“Don’t say it.” Yoongi groaned. 

“I’m just saying you might just be wusses and Haneul here can actually stomach it because he has the balls.” Jin clapped the young man on his back. 

The captain sputtered at that. “Excuse me?” 

“You heard me.” The older man pointed at the captain. “You don’t have the balls to drink the soup, all of you. You just complain.” 

“I bet I can drink more than you!” Taehyung pointed at Yoongi. The pale man’s face dropped, his expression of neutral impassivity. 

“You’re going to lose that bet.” 

         Haneul watched the crew, still trying to get out of his habits as a nobleman. He needed to blend in, get you to trust him. He cleared his throat, which was still burning. 

“I’m going to get a bit of fresh air.” He declared, his body still sore from spending a night in the jail. You nodded at him and he hated the happy look on your face. 

           Why did you get to be happy when he was miserable? Weren’t you the one who ran away from the problem? He glanced at your ring finger, but there was no glint of gold. The captain had several rings and earrings, but nothing on his ring finger. You and the captain were speaking quietly to each other. Haneul saw the captain smile when he spoke with you. 

          He dropped the message off the ship and prayed the tide would take it where it needed to go. Then he breathed in the sea air. He hated the ocean, always preferred land. He heard footsteps and knew it was you. You stood there, observing him for a moment. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Missing home.” 

            You narrowed your eyes. He had yet to walk the plank, he wasn’t a true crew member yet and you were allowed your reservations. You remembered Jungkook’s words. We all hold a deep love for the sea. Yet, here Haneul was moaning about home. It only helped to set in more of your suspicions. 

“I get that.” You said quietly. You took a place next to him. 

“I don’t understand the universe, Y/N.” He started slowly. You faced him, confusion written on your face, but he didn’t turn to face you. “You’re so happy, so free. You get to do the things you’ve always wanted to do while I’m still constrained.” 

“I followed what I wanted to do. If you don’t want to live a life at sea, then we should drop you off at the nearest village and you can be on your way.” You said softly. 

“You don’t understand! Y/N! You ran away from your problems! Why do I have to be punished for your mistakes?” He trembled with rage, the powerful emotion pulling at him from all edges and bursting at the seams. 

“I’m sorry, Haneul.” you said, seeing how he truly felt. The anger that was dripping off of him like honey had a bittersweet taste. “I’m doing what I love and you should too.”

“I can’t be a nobleman if I’m disowned. There’s not a suitable girl within the houses for another five years.” He bit his lip and looked to the night sky. “Which is why I need to bring you back.” 

          You took a step away from him, itching to go back below deck. 

“You can’t be serious, Haneul?”

“You had your little adventure, you got to be a pirate, yay. Now let’s go back and maybe we can salvage your reputation.” 

“Reputation?” You sputtered. “This has nothing to do with that. I’m never going to go back with you.” You said furiously. “We’ll be dropping you off at the nearest village first thing.”

        He turned to look at you finally. A haunting look was in his eyes. 

“And how far away is the nearest village?”

“A day and night away.” 

“And you really think our parents wouldn’t have sent a ship with both of us missing?” He chuckled darkly. You backed away. 

“What did you do? Haneul what did you do?” You screeched, racing away as he laughed. You flung open the door to the lower deck where the crew was still eating happily. 

           They all stopped talking, taking in your ragged form. Immediately, Jungkook stood and went to you. He didn’t touch you, but he had concern written on his face. His gaze was steely, but you didn’t cower. 

“What’s wrong, love?” He asked, his voice hoarse. 

“Where’s Haneul?” Jimin piped up. 

“He tricked us.” You took a deep breath and met your lover’s gaze. “Haneul tricked us.” 

         Taehyung yawned, his guns resting on his lap. The ghost of Sam hovered nearby. 

“You should get some sleep.” He chided. 

“I know, Sam.” Taehyung grumbled. “But I have night watch and I won’t let my crew down.” 

“Will a ship really attack? I think Haneul may have been bluffing.” Taehyung could almost feel his breath. The gunner shook his head. 

“No can do.” He replied, fiddling with his guns. 

“Then let me rest, Tae, so I don’t have to watch you do this to yourself.” The ghost pleaded. Taehyung smiled a little.

“Nope. You’re staying right here, Sam.” He murmured. The man watched the horizon. No one was in sight for miles. Maybe he would just shut his eyes for one minute. 

        One minute too late. 

        The sound of hushed voices woke him up. He knew those voices were not his crew’s. Then his eyes traveled to the brooding black ship sidled up next to them. Taehyung flung himself up, lurching towards his guns. Sam was gone. How many crews were going to be slaughtered on his watch? His heart quickened. Taehyung didn’t have time to feel the guilt of this information, he needed to act. 

          The gunner opened the door to the lower deck and quietly shut it behind him. Then he raced to the captain’s office. 

“Come in.”

“Captain, they’re here. They’re on the upper decks, we need to attack while we still can.” Taehyung said breathlessly. Jungkook’s eyes widened. 

“How did they board? Nevermind, what matters is that they’re on the ship already.” He stood and opened his drawer that had a gun in it. Then he flung open his office door. “Gather the men. We’re going to battle.” 

-

          BTS had never really been in a battle. They often had the upper hand in a situation and crews went down without a fight. But it was at this moment that you remembered that everyone in the crew could hold their own.

          Yoongi held a harpoon and he was tangoing with an invader. Their figures were mere shadows in the moonlight. You had taken a knife from the kitchen, but you didn’t want to attack in case they were your men. The only sounds were the rhythmic pounding of the sea and the grunts of the men wrestling on the deck. 

           There were a few cracks of light as gunpowder fizzed in the air and stung your nose. It was like an awful hellscape. You stepped in a liquid and prayed it was water and not a puddle of blood. Lifting up your foot to examine, your fears were confirmed. 

            You sidestepped a body that was flung off the side. You knew the man to be an enemy because Jin’s face lit up in the moonlight in front of you. He was breathing heavily, a dried streak of rusty blood down his face. 

“Y/N, get the rowboat ready. We need to leave, they’ve brought too many men and we’re only seven.” He shouted over the commotion. 

         The crack and pop of several guns went off at once, lighting the sky up with gray smoke. 

            Hoseok ran over, looking a little worse for wear. He had a bruise forming on his cheek and a painful gash on his arm. 

“We’ve got to go, now.” He grasped your arm, trying to pull you away.

            His face was serious, angry, pained. All emotions you never expected to attribute to the man. Jungkook. You turned to watch the figures. You recognized Jimin’s blonde hair. 

“Jimin!” You shouted as an enemy approached him with a knife.

          Jimin turned, the sweet boy looking at you with wide eyes. The cabin boy was never meant for battle. 

            A guttural scream of rage came from the side and the hiss of a gun going off lit up the deck. Taehyung’s face was illuminated, thoroughly pissed. He refused to hesitate again. He wouldn’t let another crew member die on his watch. He shot at the would be attacker, but you assumed it must have been adrenaline making his hand shaky. 

           He missed. In all your time on the ship, Kim Taehyung had never missed a shot. Everything was working against you. Taehyung jumped in front of Jimin, resulting in him getting punched in the nose, blood instantly spurting.

            You tore your grasp away from Hoseok. 

“Y/N, stop!”

“Hobi! The crew needs me!” You shouted, racing towards Jimin. 

        You pulled Taehyung up and grabbed Jimin’s arm as Jungkook shot the enemy dead. 

“Tae, get up, Jimin, help him.” You wrapped a dazed Taehyung’s arm around Jimin’s shoulder. 

          The cabin boy nodded at you and you could see the steel behind his eyes. The timid boy was anything but timid. Jungkook ran towards you. 

“Y/N, you need to get off the ship. The others are already going to the rowboat.” He said, his voice hurried and his eyes wide. 

         Your eyes trailed to six familiar shapes climbing into the rowboat. 

“But someone needs to stay behind to release it.” You said quietly. Jungkook nodded.

“I know.” 

“You can’t really be suggesting yourself, you self-sacrificing bastard?!” You shouted, feeling tears pricking at your eyes. His face was sculpted perfectly in the moonlight, a white spotlight beaming down just for him. 

“Please, Y/N, I don’t have any other choice. A captain always goes down with the ship.” 

“No.” You stood firmly, tired of being pushed around finally. You inhaled sharply. “I have nothing to return to. I won’t let you do this alone.” 

“Y/N…I love you” He sighed and then, out of character, he drew you into a hug. Your breath hitched. His skin didn’t crawl at the touch. “Please don’t do this.” He whispered.

“I love you too, Jungkook, but-” You started, rubbing his back. You looked over his shoulder. “Jungkook!” You screeched. The man tensed in your hold, turning around just in time to see the figure coming towards him. 

         Everything slowed. 

         The captain pushed you away, and faced the man. There was this terrible high pitched noise in the background. The last enemy had found you and you recognized him. Myung-suk. And there were more coming. The glint of steel meeting flesh flashed in your eyes. You reached out for him, your lover. His face went pale. 

        His inky black hair glistened in the moonlight. His blood stained the floorboards and there was still the screeching sound. You met his eyes one last time. His lips mouthed ‘it’s okay’.The man threw the captain’s lifeless body off the side of the ship. The screeching sound, you’d come to realize, were your own screams. His body was nothing more than a ripple in the sea. 

        The world went back into motion. You immediately kicked the young soldier in the chest, effectively winding him like you’d seen Namjoon do once or twice. Then you took a big fistful of his shirt and pushed him off the side of the ship, not hearing his cries over your own. You whispered a prayer for Jungkook and cursed Myung-suk.

            May Jungkook become one with the sea and may Poseidon have no mercy on the man with the bloodied knife. Your hands shook, pain overtaking your mind. You didn’t have time to sob. The ship was headed towards the rocks. The crew was still in the rowboat, waiting for someone to release them.

            Mourning would get you nowhere. Despite the aching cavity in your chest, your crew needed you. He would have wanted that. So you refused the urge to dive right into the sea after him. You just wanted to be one with the sea, to let it wash over your wounds. Instead, you ran down the decks you had spent the last year of your life on. The ghostly memories of your crewmates flooded back to you. 

            You saw Namjoon first, his memory turning to look at you. 

Ah, you’re the new crew member, I see? Welcome to the family. 

             You swiped at your eyes. Yoongi’s ghostly form stood, his harpoon in hand, the memory reminding you of sunny days.

Y/N, stop looking at me like that. If you want to know how to fish, I’ll show you. Here, c’mere. 

               You let another teardrop fall. The wheel sat empty as you passed it. Hoseok’s memory stood there, turning the ship, whispering with Jimin.

Y/N! Want to dance? 

             Jimin smiled, his eyes crinkling wonderfully. 

Y/N, I’m sorry for sleeping on the job last night. Thanks for covering for me!

              His chuckle was beautiful. Seokjin had his hands on his hips.

I didn’t put anything in that soup, you wusses. He argued. 

            Taehyung leaned his head on the side of the ship. 

It’s nothing, just a nightmare.  

             You tried to breathe, but the worst memory was next. 

             The sky seemed to clear as you went through it once more. A well built man stood on the end of the ship. The night of gunpowder fell away. His hair ruffled in the wind. He turned to you, a smile on his face, doe eyes crinkling in delight. Jungkook held out his hand, his captain attire as crisp as ever.

 Are you ready, little miss? 

               And you almost took his hand. 

              You tore your eyes away, turning to where the crew now rested. Six in the boat, one at the bottom of the sea, one staying on the ship. You started lowering the ropes, ignoring the shouts of the crew. You felt a ghostly presence and you just knew it was him. Jungkook placed a hand on your back, guiding you through the motions. 

“Sh, it’s going to be alright. Stop shaking, love. You’re doing so well.” He whispered words of praise. 

“Y/N, stop, just climb aboard.” Namjoon’s words suddenly hit you. You stared incredulously at the man. 

“So we can all die?” You shouted. Tears traced their way down your cheeks. “Namjoon, do you trust me?”

         The man looked unsure, a pain behind his eyes. He looked down at the sea, his eyes drifting to the place his oldest friend perished. He looked devastated. And he was. His heart was breaking open for the young boy who deserved better, the boy who despite all odds, worked to make a name for himself. But above all, he was glad that his body was resting in the waves of the place he loved the most; The sea. He couldn’t mourn, he had to do his job as a first mate. He had to become the leader the crew needed. He couldn’t hesitate and let them all perish. You weren’t budging either. 

          Did he trust you? 

          “Yes.” He responded softly. You nodded and let the ropes fall, placing the boat gently into the water. 

              You couldn’t stop the tremble of your hands. All you wanted to do was cry, fall to the floor and let the sobs overtake your body. The boat drifted into the ocean and the rope fell away. The other ship blasted a hole into the side of BTS. You tumbled to the ground, sobs finally wracking your body. You watched the rowboat headed toward the shore. 

“Get up.” Jungkook urged. “Y/N, get up.” His voice was firm, his ghost as clear as day. 

“Jungkook, I-”

“You shouldn’t have, love. I should’ve been there.” He whispered. “You should find another way out. Don’t sacrifice yourself for a foolish captain like me.” You could almost hear his sheepish smile.  

             You stood, placing your hands on the side of the ship and watching the water come closer. You sniffled, letting your stomach drop as the ship sunk farther. Your eyes were glossy with tears, your heart shattered, so with all the courage left in your body, you turned to face his ghost. You hair flew in the breeze and the moment was of peaceful contrast to moments before. 

“No, I’m going down with the ship.” 

               You were falling. The world seemed to slow, going still as if you had halted in mid air. The waves welcomed you home, embracing you to your bones. Taehyung’s smile, Jin’s laugh, Yoongi’s quiet nods, Hoseok’s dancing, Jimin’s eyes, Namjoon’s voice, Jungkook’s face.

           They held you close, but Jungkook’s ghost held you the tightest as the rest faded away. When you looked up, there was no shadowy figure diving in to save you. It was just dark, the light of the sinking BTS illuminating the water. 

            The ghost of his lips hovered over yours as the sky sank farther out of reach. Your lungs filled with water, body finally being overtaken with the sea. Black ink fell across your vision as Jungkook’s ghost whispered words of praise. A bittersweet ending to the ship of the Bulletproof Boy Scouts. 

             You glimpsed his face, his ethereal body hovering above you, now one with the ocean. The crew had always been a mess, a tragically beautiful mess, but him, most of all.  

Sea and the rock below Cocked to the undertow Bones, blood and teeth erode With every crashing node

Taglist: @lovelyseomin​ @yoongi-sugaglider​  @merakiiverse​ 

[livinghostly]

one missing firefly

theo raeken x reader

not my gif!

words: 2900

request/summary: even with the newest threat to beacon hills, the reader is hesitant to accept theo's help. to her misfortune, scott sends them out together to take back something stolen. as usual, the plan falls through.

warning: fighting, blood

a/n: i still write for my favorite apathetic bastard <3 i'm not sure how many parts this'll have

[...]

"are you sure they have it?" stiles probed, one arm crossed over his chest and the other picking at his lips. "like, 100%? you didn't just lose it in one of your many, many cross country trips fleeing from law enforcement?"

exasperated sighs echoed from around the room, drawing an offended expression on to his face. it was dark outside and the pack's tiredness had escalated to shared frustration, being woken up or pulled out of their plans at 12 a.m. with a sudden house call from scott.

you stood over the kitchen table with both hands on the wood, pushing your tongue against the inside of your cheek. you rocked on your heels, looking up at the rest of the pack, and other additions.

scott was standing on the other side of the table, listening intently to the conversation. he met your gaze and shrugged, as if asking you to stay and listen a little longer.

derek closed his eyes and clenched his jaw in annoyance. "yes, i'm sure. before they broke in, it was there. now, it's not."

a new round of hunters had infiltrated beacon hills after more mysterious news coverage had spread outside of the town's close quarters. they were more of exterminators, they had no code, no ethics. they wanted to eradicate every last living supernatural creature, despite the clean history they may have.

hours ago they had broken into derek's loft, and if he'd chosen to fight instead of run he wouldn't have made it out. when he returned, it was ransacked. they were looking for something, and they found it.

the container of nemeton wood, which held the nogitsune.

"why would– why would they take it?" liam asked, he was standing in the doorway next to stiles, who nodded along. "if it's supernatural and they have it, isn't that good? they'll keep it contained."

you licked your lips, "it's leverage. and if they're desperate they could set it free, into a new host.

"i don't doubt that void will have a vendetta for us," lydia spoke up. "we put that thing in a box for over two years to rot after ruining his game. if they let him go, he'll come back. and he'll tear us apart."

silence settled over the room, your pack members shifted their gazes fo the floor to cope with the tension that filled the space. stiles looked the most ruffled, messing with his fingers whilst deep in thought.

"you okay?" your voice broke through the air, barely above a whisper but it caught everyone's attention. their heads snapped up to you, and then followed to stiles.

he sighed. "i'm not all that enthusiastic of the spirit that once possessed me coming back with a vengeance."

malia nodded, crossing her arms. "then, we stop them. we know where they're staying, we go in, and we get it."

"yeah," scott said in confidence, but the expression on his face was uncertain. too long of silence passed until he continued. "we'll figure out a way. me, and derek."

they were the strongest, you knew it was what he was getting at. and he was right, out of all of you, a true alpha and an evolved werewolf were the ones who would have the best chance at bringing down a pack of hunters– maybe liam, too.

but this wasn't a fight on neutral ground, it would be on their turf.

"not to step on your toes, scott, but that's a terrible idea," you said, straightening your posture. he raised his eyebrows, surprised, and multiple heads turned to you in question. "it's a hunter's den. it'll be lined with mountain ash, you won't get past the welcome mat and you'll kill yourself trying."

"so, what are you saying?" he shrugged.

you swallowed, but stated strongly, "i'm saying i'll go."

you didn't have claws or amplified abilities, and you didn't need them. you had enough experience with weaponry and hand-to-hand to defend yourself, he knew that. you knew the thought process of a hunter, what to look for and how to look over your shoulder as second nature. derek helped you fight like a werewolf– in addition to the years of supernatural encounters riding on your back, you were enough.

but scott seemed to have his own internal conflict. he looked past you, his eyes fixated on something. silently begging, you could tell, as he drew his eyebrows together and tilted his head to the side.

you looked over your shoulder and spotted theo, strewn over the couch with apathy. he was so quiet you'd almost forgotten he was there, mostly observing the pack meeting. he rarely said anything unless he was directly involved in the discussion or there was a sly remark aimed at him. and when he did open his mouth, he was shut down by malia or stiles.

he raised his eyebrows, seemingly bored. he met your gaze.

widening your eyes, you turned to scott. "no."

"y/n, you can't go alone. you need someone that can fight and go through mountain ash."

"then, i'll go with–" you searched around the room, and gestured to the boy in the doorway. "stiles. he has a bat."

"that's not exactly inconspicuous," scott chuckled weakly.

"i don't need inconspicuous, i'm not ringing the doorbell!"

"i'll go," theo spoke up, breaking the staring contest you held with scott. his voice drew the room to a silence, and the pack point their eyes to him, but you refused to turn around and look at him again.

you heard the couch shift beneath his weight, and then he brought himself to his feet. your gaze flickered to malia, who's nostrils flared in silent defiance as he stepped closer to you.

"i don't need you to go," you growled.

"i don't see any other volunteers." he glanced around the room, your pack members averted their eyes shamefully. but no one spoke up.

you couldn't blame them, the hunters were terrifying and all of you– even stiles –had been at the barrel of their guns at least once. they were worse than the argents are the calaveras ever were.

but you were unmoved by his words, and turned around to face him with a cold expression.

scott sighed. "he's right. and we can trust him."

"until he stabs us in the back, again," stiles spoke up. "or sticks his claws into someone's chest, again. probably yours, scott. again."

"i've done a lot for this pack," theo said, raising his eyebrows as he looked around the room. "and i'm not even in it. i'm here to help you guys."

"you're here because you don't want to be put back into the ground," you shot back, narrowing your gaze. he looked to you, annoyed with your disapproval.

the pack began to bicker back and forth, forming sides. aggression began to seep out of everyone, it was written on their faces. the majority of the pack trusted theo, whilst you, malia and stiles didn't even want him in the room.

as argumentative as theo was, he wasn't saying anything. he kept his arms crossed, listening to the chaos unfold as everyone vouched for their own solution.

there was only one person who could make the final vote.

"enough!" scott demanded in a shout, his voice becoming distorted with a low growl slipping through. all eyes turned to him as he heaved, and after a few seconds passed, his voice became soft again. "theo is going with you. both of you are safer that way."

you adjusted your jaw, resisting the urge to argue further. a sigh passed through your lips. "fine."

two p.m. is when you decided that it would be the path of least resistance to get in and out. they spent most of the days away from home, slithering through the town, watching and waiting for someone to slip up and reveal their true colors.

they'd been asking around, feigning as journalists or investigators to the townspeople to get leads on some of the creatures. at night, they would hunt or go back home to sleep, depending on the progress they made that day.

you stepped carefully through the woods, keeping on the trails and avoiding any sticks or leaves that could break under your feet. theo, a few feet behind you, wasn't so careful. his footsteps were heavy and racked up the dirt beneath them.

"you've never dealt with real hunters, have you?" you asked aloud. when the anuk-ite had infested beacon hills it turned everyone into killers, not hunters. they were inexperienced and trigger happy, but that wasn't the case now.

he stiffened, the weight of his heels digging into the leaves and drawing a crunch. he continued walking, keeping his head to the ground as he stepped around the loud obstacles. you smirked to yourself.

"not exactly," he responded.

an awkward silence filled the air, flowing between you constantly. you tried to shove off that feeling, as well as the hyperawareness you had to his presence, and kept your eyes peeled for any sudden movements or traps as you approached the property.

suddenly, you stopped in your tracks. theo kept walking until he was nearly against your back, following your gaze steadily. over the hill was the house, seemingly abandoned, it looked like it hadn't been touched in years.

licking your lips, you turned to him. "can you hear anything? a heartbeat?"

theo swallowed, and looked to the side as he focused. his jaw clenched as he strained to hear. "no, nobody's home."

"this is a good start," you breathed, continuing your trek up to the property. you circled around to the back of the house, theo following your every step.

suddenly, he spoke up. "i don't know much about this plan."

"get in, get the triskele box, and get out."

"it can't be that simple, it never is."

you rolled your lips back into your mouth, walking up to the back patio. it was covered in dust and the boards of wood looked as if they were ready to snap in half at too sudden of weight.

he huffed at your silence and continued, "what if something goes wrong?"

"what if you just trust me?" you countered, stopping at the door. you cast a glance over your shoulder and placed a hand on the doorknob.

"you would have to trust me first."

you frowned, and pushed open the door carefully. it lead into a kitchen, where the majority of the space on the countertops were coated with dust and cobwebs. there was a leather holster laid out, numerous knives missing, and the others that were left had been wiped clean of blood with a red-stained rag thrown to the side.

the windows were boarded up on the outside, creating a darkness over the room. you could still see, but it was difficult.

there was ruined furniture around covered in plastic wrap and shards of glass on the floor swept to the wall out of the walkway.

"this place doesn't feel too welcoming," theo whispered, his voice alerting you how close he was, practically stepping on your heels.

you opened one of the cabinets, searching for it, but there were only broken or stained plates left. "go upstairs. i'll check down here." you turned and met his eyes, he was reluctant to leave. "and if you find it, don't open it."

he raised his eyebrows. "i'd appreciate it if you had a little more faith in me."

before the conversation could continue, he followed your orders and turned around towards the living room. when he walked, he nearly dragged his feet across the ground and let his weight sink into the floorboards. painstakingly loud, without the belief that there was a reason to be quiet.

each cabinet you opened only left you more frustrated, finding nothing more than bugs and abandoned silverware. after you deserted that idea, you turned to the living room.

you peaked into the fire place first, finding a collection of guns hidden away inconspicuously. but no box. you rolled your eyes at the armory and turned towards the other side of the room, your gaze falling to the couches. they looked scratchy and the cushions sank after being sat in too many times. there was something about it.

tilting your head, you walked behind it, and then bent down to the floor. you curled your hands underneath the bottom of the couch and lifted with a strained groan. not wanting to be loud, you gently set it down, now on it's flipped side.

"i don’t see anything up here!" theo called down, you could hear his footsteps coming towards the stairwell.

you knelt down, your eyes falling to a poorly reattached seem. it was holding something inside, heavy enough to create a dip. "it's okay, i think i found something."

he waltzed down the stairs, raising his eyebrows with surprise upon spotting you. he came closer, pausing in his tracks for a moment as you unsheathed a pocket knife, and then tiptoed for your side.

theo bent down as you were, his eyes on focused on you as you dragged the knife down the material of the couch. you were curious, your features contorting with concentration as the fluff began to sprout from the couch.

you dropped the knife to the floor and dug your hand in, searching blindly. you tried to hold back your wince as something sharp dragged along your skin, but he caught the expression.

"what? you okay?" he leaned forward, one hand on the ground to steady himself.

you nodded, "yeah, i just–" you stopped yourself as your fingers wrapped around the edge of a cylinder. it was rough against your flesh, and heavy as you began to pull it out.

you set it in your lap with narrowed eyebrows, you hadn't seen it in a long time. the wooden container decorated with a symbol– the triskele. you ran your thumb gently over it.

"that's it, right?"

"yeah," you met his gaze. he was ready to stand up and leave just the way you came, his eyes flickering from the box to your face.

"okay, then let's go."

you nodded, pulling your wounded hand into a fist.

he gently placed his hand on your wrist, turning it over and pulling at your fingers to expose the palm of your hand. fresh blood was slowly pooling, it had dripped on to the floor and stained the couch fluff. "you're bleeding."

sighing, you pulled it from his grasp. "it's not that bad." you brought yourself to your feet again and he mimicked your actions. "i'll fix it when we get back to scott's."

a new voice broke through the air. "i- i don't think i can let you do that."

you nearly jumped and looked past theo to the archway of the kitchen. he turned as well, spotting a boy only a few years younger than you holding a shotgun in his hands.

theo reacted before you had time to. he jumped towards the kid and grabbed the barrel of the gun and lifting it into the air as a shot rang out. he snarled, shining his yellow eyes and he pushed the boy further into the kitchen.

loosening your grip on the container, you leaned down and swiped your pocket knife on the ground. you set the box on one of the tables and pursued the boys in the kitchen, walking in on theo being thrown to the fridge, creating a large dent.

the unnamed boy turned to face you, raising his weapon into the air, and you ducked. he shot at nothing and you charged at his torso, pushing him to the ground. the shotgun clattered next to you, and you held your knife to his throat.

as you looked at him, your stance faltered. he couldn't be any older than fourteen, but he was strong. he had fear in his eyes, panic piercing into yours.

in your moment of weakness, he took his chance and punched you in the jaw. you leaned back and held the point of impact, allowing him to shove you off and to the floor. he picked up his shotgun again, and aimed it at you.

"okay, wait! wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!" theo shouted, one hand on the counter to steady himself as he nearly stood over you. there was blood seeping from her corner of his mouth, as well as his stomach. "she's not like me, okay? she's human."

the boy was unmoved, keeping his stance and watching you prop yourself up on your forearms.

theo continued, "we'll leave the container, and we can go. but if you shoot her, i'll rip your throat out."

"no," the hunter said, his lip twitched. "they wouldn't like it if i let you go."

he turned the shotgun around, facing the butt of it towards you. for a moment, you found yourself confused thinking his actions betrayed his words. but then, he raised it further up before bringing it back down against your forehead.

[lesserfandomappreciation]

Goodness that is some high praise, thanks! Take care as well sweetie!

This came out a lot longer than I expected, I do apologize for that. 

Fell for the sarcastic bestie ( BOTW ) 

Sidon

They are a very odd duo. Sidon is happy, polite, boisterous and princely, while his friend can give a man a verbal lashing that will leave him in smithereens. Several heads turn when the two wander the domain entirely unsure how that friendship formed. Frankly, neither of them know either but they’re more than happy to keep the relationship alive.  

What Sidon does know is that his feelings have... morphed into something new. Who could blame him? This is someone who has been there through thick and thin, seen the most vulnerable parts of his heart. Someone who never fails to bring him cheer through the best of jokes when he least expected it. It was inevitable. And hopefully, they felt the same.

Unfortunately a part of his mind, the same one that tells him to be he’ll never match his sister’s expectations, likes to tell him otherwise. It’s just a friendship. He’s lucky to have that with them. Pushing it would not lead to success. After all, all the hints he has been dropping, all his little attempts at pushing through have had little success. Why bother trying? Yet still, still, he tries so damn hard. 

Multiple tries having failed, Sidon rallies one last attempt. He knows his friend can be a bit dense at times but if this failed, then he would simply let things go. Friendship would be enough for him and his broken heart. S/o knows something’s up when the prince takes them to where they first met and begins to fidget silently.

“My friend... there would be no greater honor for me than to be able to pursue your heart. Freely, if you would have me.”

There was a lot of scenarios he was braced for. Seeing them grow flustered and try to respond in kind, managing to get it out that they have been feeling deeper emotions for him for a long time... There is nothing else in the world in that moment that can wipe the smile off his face when he leans in to the close the gap between their lips. 

Revali

They have been quipping and jabbing at each other for longer than the sun’s been shining above the Rito village. Kindred spirits of wit who have found a friend in the other, enjoying tearing each other playfully as much as they push each other to do better, to be better. The village knows who is behind the mad laughter echoing off the mountain tops in the early morning.

Revali has never been one for dealing with uncomfortable feelings in his chest. Not when he can ignore it. But this feeling has persisted. And it only happens around his friend. With time and enough self-reflection the Rito champion realizes what he is feeling isn’t an inherent need to be a pain in the ass, but rather wanting to be around them more as something other than a friend. And he is intent on making that a reality.

Thus, the torment of the Rito village begins. Revali is not a subtle bird. What he thinks is a “subtle hint” is enough for the densest Bokoblin to pick up on. Turns out his friend could give those beings a run for their money in terms of density. Nothing works. With each failure, Revali turns up his efforts to a higher level - more smooth lines, more showing off, more trying to keep their attention on him. Every villager knows when an attempt has failed, for no one can miss the Champion flying up to his Divine Beast to mope privately.

Left with no choice, Revali has to take his least favorite option. Months after having started this relentless crusade the two are traveling in a less populated area of the mountains when Revali blocks them, leaning around the mountain rock. His friend is rightfully confused but doesn’t get the chance to ask anything before he speaks up.

“I’m only going to say this once. You drive me crazy. You know that? But I don’t mind, so long as I’m the only one who gets to drive you crazy.”

The look in his eye, how close his face is to theirs because of his leaning, the soft fondness in his voice - they can’t help but feel the heat rising up in their face with every puzzle piece that falls into place all while they try to give a quip in response. But just like they know him well, he knows them well. The champion smirks when he pulls them into his arms and holds them closely. Feeling their nod of agreement sends his heart soaring. 

Bazz

They are a welcome relief in Bazz’s life. ‘Head of the Zoran Domain Guard’ is a title that bears weight he must carry. Cheery and friendly as he is, the formality of it all on the guard feels too much, too overbearing. They are then the perfect remedy, always having the perfect word on hand to make it difficult not to laugh in the middle of the job. The witty back and forth is something he has come to greatly enjoy, with a couple jabs of his  to keep things interesting. 

Bazz is no fool to his own heart. ‘Warriors must know their true selves’ are words Seggin lived by and instilled into his own son from an early age. Reflection is a vital part to any person’s life but Bazz follows this to a T. When his heart starts beating faster just from hearing that his friend is nearby, when his hand aches wanting to hold there’s and the sound of their laugh after thinking of a quip all are clues that he quickly uses to find the truth. He’s in deep. 

However, unlike in the case of his Highness who is too subtle, and the Champion who believes showing off is flirting, Bazz has the distinct advantage of being direct. The next time they are together, he happily tells them “I like you, and would like to spend more time with you if you’d have me,” hoping for a yes but understanding if it’s a no. It’s monumental effort that keeps him from balking when they respond in agreement saying that they need more friend hang out times. Unaware entirely of his intent. 

This may be more difficult than he anticipated. 

This persists for weeks. Every direct comment, every word simply not being caught at all. Bazz was certain he saw the words bounce off their ears at one point. He knows it’s not rejection - he’s seen them reject others before, he’d know if he were in similar circumstances - but it is draining. The next time he’s meditating, he’s reflecting on his actions, trying to think of a way to move forward when it hits him. Words sometimes fail on people. But action? Action is unmistakable. 

It’s by coincidence that the next day they are training together - the time is a cathartic session for both of them. Bazz reminds them exactly how he got his title, but it’s an enjoyable session of private sparring. It’s when they’re finally, blessedly, giving their poor muscles a break that the subject of combat being a form of communication and Bazz sees an opportunity. Gently his hand tilts their chin towards him while he gazes into them with a smile. “Since we’re on the subject of ‘actions over words,’ would you mind if I showed you how I felt towards you?” 

[jinxfirebolt18902]

Ohana Part 1 - (Ben Hardy!Warren Worthington III Serie)

Words: 1.682

Summary: Warren accidentally made a family of his own and he’s determined to do anything in his will to protect them, but maybe that won’t be enough and a little help may be needed.

Part 2

Warren’s strong arms sneaked around her small waist, his nose lightly burying itself on her neck, her delicious scent invading his senses. A warm feeling run all over his body, fuelling him with peace and happiness and, well... love. If someone had told him 6 years ago that in a few years he’d be standing in a cottage backyard surrounded by a forest in a mountain somewhere in England, holding the love of his life in his arms while watching the result of their love laughing innocently as he bounced in a single swing, he probably would have laughed really hard and turned around to dismiss the matter. His last years had passed quite quickly when he took a moment to look back, from the cage fighting where he’d met her, to them escaping and fooling around, hiding from the evil that chased after them and their mutations, kissing and dancing and laughing like teenagers, till the unexpected offspring growing in her. His eyelids opened interrupting the memories when he felt her head rest against him. The green eyes moving quickly from her face to his son’s.

He re-positioned himself standing straighter but before pulling his face from her neck he stopped by her ear to whisper a sweet emotional “I love you with all my heart”. A wide smile reaching her lips. She turned subtly, to look up and connect their gazes. He was smiling as well. A sudden yelp made their faces instinctively spin towards the now empty swing, their bodies parted in less than a second. An uniformed young man had the four-years-old’s wrist in a strong grip,the latter desperately trying to run towards his parents’ safety. Three pairs of manly hands attacking her grey wings and her arms in order to immobilize her, meanwhile five men did the same to him, tackling him to the ground and stepping on his white feathers to pin him down. Screams, swearings and cryings filled the cold air, the already clouded sky getting darker due not only to the storm clouds forming but for the day reaching its end as well. Just like that, in a matter of seconds the small family’s life torn apart. Warren’s madness against the scene developing before his eyes, his family being captured, a stranger’s filthy hands restraining his helpless child, a group of men hurting his girlfriend, his everything, provoked the adrenaline pump through his every vein and his mutation power up to no use, being outnumbered and electrocuted.

—Get your fucking hands off them right now! You twats!

—Shut your mouth bird boy. —a familiar face adorned with a black moustache knelt in front of him, Warren still forced to lay flat on the wet grass. —How we missed you back there in the cage champ... —the most disgusting laugh Warren’d ever heard left the man’s chest. The mutant could only follow him with his eyes. Edgar, as Warren recalled, strolled across the few feets distancing him from her and stopped to give her struggling body an analytic look, a sound of approval  reaching Warren’s ears. From there, the man known to be in charge shifted to the crying infant as he arched an eyebrow in a thoughtful expression. After a few seconds he went back to Warren’s level. —Well I see you haven’t lost any time... We’ll see what can we do with your little family play back in Berlin, aight?

Warren’s eyes and body contorted with anger, his blood boiling making his veins stand out. His cheeks were pink and his nostrils wide open with his rapid breaths. He couldn’t let this happen. He had promised her that he would protect them, that he’d never let anything happen to them hence why they lived there, hidden, heads low and quiet. They’d been moving quite a lot too, never staying for too long in the same place, never surrounded by neighbours, trying not to be seen either by humans nor mutants. They’d practically disappeared. But their luck had run out. His past was once again taking his efforts and high spirits away from him, ripping his heart and soul open. When he felt he was being pulled up, covered in countless ropes, his gaze flew to her. They were doing the same with her, the picture almost unbearable for him. He’d promised her they’d never touch her again, she’d never have to fight again.

Inside her mind the petrifying memories run wild. The crowds shouting in excitement, the perspiration smell hanging in the heavy air, the bright light blinding her eyes... Her eyelids closed forcefully at the excruciating pain in her wings when they burned them with high voltage, and the sore of her throat after her screams whenever she was hurt. She could feel the anxiety eating her alive, the fear of living that hell once again, anew; after 6 years of peace and healing, after being given birth... her baby. Oh God what were they going to do with her baby boy. SHe wasn’t as strong as before, she was done fighting. Her muscles weren’t the same anymore, She was thin and standard, no training left on her physical appearance... The amount of ropes was extremely unnecessary, she couldn’t have escaped their hold. Her baby boy. She started shouting piercing screams hurting the men’s hearing, few of them even letting go of their strings to cover their ears. Tears constantly run down her cheeks.

—For fuck’s sake! What is it woman?! —Edgar’s scowl faced her closely.

—My child! Give me my boy! Please! Let him come with me please... —choked sobs cutting her pleas. —Give my child! —through her crying her demanding tone could be heard in her voice.

With a roll of his eyes the commandant signaled to one of the cages and they quickly put her in, then thoughtlessly waved his hand to the young uniformed man holding the infant to let him go. The little boy clumsily running to his mom’s arms which immediately embraced the upset toddler. Her head jerked in Warren’s direction when she heard him grunting and still giving battle, refusing to let his and his family’s freedom be taken away.

The place looked the same, dark, wet and creepy. Definitely not a place for children. They'd set them apart. Warren's cage was kept in a room with the best male fighters while hers was placed with the oldest women mutants. As they put her cage in place all eyes big in amazement were on her. She just stared everywhere with fear, covering her body and his son's with her big grey feathery wings. The toddler was buried in her chest with wet red cheeks and dropped eyelids, heavy with tiredness. It had been an exhausting day plus they’d been awake over 32 hours. She heard a few murmurs between the women as they looked at them. "It's her isn't it?", "She's back", "Oh my god has she got a child there?!", "I can't believe it", "Have they captured him as well?". Her eyes kept jumping from face to face, the expression of terror never leaving her features.

—Sweetie... Are you okay? Is there any way I can help you?

Her eyes flew towards the owner of the voice, a red-headed curvy lady probably in her seventies. Her body just tensed up and held her baby tighter. Exhaustion took over forcing her to fall asleep in a second, with her back resting against the cold impenetrable barriers, her wings covering her.

It was a massive migraine what woke her up, stirring from her unconscious state she had to take a few seconds to remember everything that happened and take in her new awful reality. Her gaze looked down at the sleeping body in her arms. Charlie’s face was dirty with dust and dry tears, which only hurt her heart and soul even more, an overwhelming desire to cry filling her. She wanted Warren. She wanted to be in his arms and be told everything would be okay. She needed him. The fact that he was somewhere else only added to her worry and discomfort. She felt weak and dizzy. Helping herself grabbing one of the cage bars to keep her balance she got to a sitting position without waking Charlie. Again pairs of eyes set on her, whispering her name. 

—Mockingbird…

A new thump sound resonated within the dark red room. Warren’s left shoulder was already completely bruised and sore, but he kept using it in failed attempts to break the cage’s lock.

—LET ME OUUUT! —his cry hurting his throat as tears filled his eyes.

The other mutants couldn’t fully understand why he was reacting so crazy about his capture knowing it wasn’t his first time, at all. Warren’s body collapsed to the ground as silent sobs escaped him. His mind couldn’t stop spiraling around her and their son. What they were doing to them, where they were, how they were… Both his mind and his body hurt, like they ever had before.

A green-skinned mutant with scales and spiked head knelt facing Warren and tried to check him up. Clearly he hadn’t known… or better said, fought him inside the cage as most of the others in the room. Warren used to be one of the best, one of the champs (hence why they always were after him whenever he escaped). He could kill, easily. But to that new reptilian mutant, Warren just seemed a broken little boy, at the edge of the hill.

—Are you ok?

—Anole. —called him out one of the others. —Don’t.

A few days later, Warren had almost lose it completely. His brain had gotten him into some kind of a trance to stop the pain. He was like a reverse ghost, his body was present but his soul was nowhere to be seen. If it weren’t for his will to eat and for his blinks, one could think he was dead. Hours never seemed to end, the difference between day and night had been long forgotten. It was always dark. And misery was all he could feel.

[indiavolowetrust]

The Obey Me Boys as RPG Bosses: Frostheart

CHAPTERS: Prologue + Beelzebub and Belphegor, Asmodeus, Satan, Leviathan (YOU ARE HERE), Mammon, Lucifer, ???, ???, Endings

You are one of many hunters in a land cursed with everlasting winter.  You yourself have become rime-touched after an attack by your fellow   corrupted hunter, an incident that left you traumatized and lame. Even   your hunter’s guild has resigned you to a life of mere cleaning and   upkeep duties, and you have spent the last seven years in the depths of your guild’s archives.

Then the White Witch spirits your little   brother away into her castle, taking with her the only family you have   ever known. Armed with your trusty hunting knife and bow – and aided by your senior hunter, Simeon – you set off into the rime-cursed lands to find Luke and end the White Witch’s reign once and for all.

**Very loosely based on The Snow Queen by Hans Christian Andersen.

Word Count: 1,227

TW: Blood, Violence, Gore

[LEVIATHAN, THE FIRST SERPENT]

Despite having grown up in the everlasting winter, you’ve never seen anything quite so lifeless. The land before you is all but a flat, featureless expanse, the glacial winds rendering everything a solid white. There are no trees. No trees, no moss, no lichen, and no grass. No animals, either. While it has been only an hour since the doors spat you and Simeon here, you’ve already begun to worry. The day is on the verge of dusk, and you know all too well how quickly night will fall. You may not have stumbled upon any adversaries yet -- the most favored of the White Witch’s subjects, according to the shackled dire wolf -- but you would much rather not be taken by surprise. Such an open area provides no shelter. No defense.

Yet you have no other choice but to go forward. Luke remains in the White Witch’s clutches, and Simeon --

Simeon.

You cast a furtive glance towards him. Your gaze searches for the wounds that should be there, the limp that should plague his own stride, the nearly gnawed off arm -- but there is nothing. Of course, there is nothing. You had heard the bones click as they reformed themselves. His flesh had knitted itself together before your very eyes, leaving not even a shadow of a scar. You had watched as he had returned from death’s door.

Don’t you think he’s gotten tired of you yet? He’s the only reason you’ve gotten this far. You’re as dependent and useless as a child.

Simeon catches you by the arm before you can stumble, your walking cane stuck in the ground. A few choice pulls manage to free it from the crack in the ice, the end breaking into a sharp point, and so it is relegated to the side of your pack. A quiet gesture places your hand in his, the other securely wrapped around your shoulders. The shame settles in your stomach like lead.

 He regrets coming along with you. Why wouldn’t he? He took pity on you. You can’t even lift his sword from the ground!

“Looks like we’ll have to stop here for today,” Simeon says, casting his hand against the flurry of snow. The pain emanating from your lame leg is enough to discourage any protests on your part, as is the extent of your fatigue. “Didn’t think we were on a cliff.”

You peer with your one eye through the glacial winds, gazing into the land beyond. Despite the cover of ice and snow, you can discern the telltale signs of frozen water and the end of the rocky outcrop. The sun kisses the horizon in a melange of white, pink, and pale blue, the colors painted across the sky, and it is only after a moment that you realize that you are looking at a sea. The beginning of an ocean, perhaps. While the Frost Blades doesn’t deploy any of their hunters to the ports -- much less you, considering your missing eye and lame leg -- you’ve heard many tales of sea. Waves as tall as mountains, shipwrecks littered with gold and treasure, and great beasts that emerge from the deep. Mermaids, serpents, and sirens.

It is said that the White Witch created the first serpent. The leviathan, if you recall it correctly. A fisherman had found himself green with envy, jealous as he was of his neighbors’ catches and boats, and so the White Witch had granted him the best vessel to fulfill his wishes. His flesh and bone had been exchanged for scales the color of night, a terrible maw, and a serpentine body the length of several furlongs. A misguided sense of mercy.

It is only when Simeon walks away that you have the courage to ask the question that begs to be asked. Does he regret accompanying you on your journey? You’re -- you’re useless and weak and … 

“No,” he says simply. Simeon begins to pat around the ice and snow with his boots, feeling for any sharp rocks. “If I thought any of those things were true, then I wouldn’t have even let you take one step past the gates.”

The words ring empty in your head, despite his tone. The sight of his body being nearly bitten in half by the dire wolf has branded itself into your memory. Blood pooling around his mangled body, his ragged breaths slowly dwindling into silence, and the glassy, dull look overtaking his eyes. He had been dead, at least for a moment.

Then there is the glaring reality of the curse. You and Simeon have long passed the barrier into the White Witch’s realm. Unless you desire for the both of you to die a slow, excruciating death by being impaled by crystals and turned into frost, there is no way to go but forward.

And so you simply shake your head at his words, muttering something noncommittal.

“You really don’t get it, do you? You’re --” a sigh, deep and withdrawn, “-- look, I --”

The sound of shattering ice all but deafens the both of you, cutting him off, and you look instinctively behind you to search for the source of the sound. It takes you but a moment to realize that the blustering winds have stopped. An ominous quiet has settled upon boreal land. An ominous churning sound behind you -- no, below you -- draws your attention further, and you hold your breath.

A sea serpent bursts from the ice behind you, all dark scales and golden eyes. Its teeth sink into the flesh of your thigh, your scream pierces the air, something else latches onto you -- and then there is nothing but the rush of wind. You have only a few blessed seconds in mid-air before your body is plunged into the icy sea.

Arctic water fills your lungs. The force of being dragged through the water at such great speed is almost enough to knock you unconscious. The serpent seems to be content traveling just below the surface of the ice; if you reached forward, it would be close enough to touch. A strange weight drags at your side.

A lurch. The serpent takes an abrupt turn, surely delving deeper into the blackness below, and the world fades to black.

Yet you find yourself gasping for air mere moments later, your body convulsing against the ice. Someone gathers you in his arms. Simeon. The shards of ice from where the beast had broken the surface are scattered around you. Your walking cane is gone. Your blood stains even the outside of your clothing.

Simeon, you croak, my leg --

“Hush.” A kiss -- a kiss? -- is pressed to your forehead. “You’ll be okay. Everything’s going to be okay. I’m not going to leave you. Just stay awake and watch the ice for me.”

The ice? But … 

“It’s still here. It won’t be that long until we reach that cave up ahead, but I need you to stay awake and watch out for me. Can you do that?”

He doesn’t wait for you to answer. The blustering winds have returned, snow accompanying it, and his quick strides cross an alarming distance in moments. You can see the shadow of the serpent swimming just below the ice.

Tip: You will bleed out in twelve minutes. The serpent will attack wherever the ice thins or is otherwise broken.

[NEXT: MAMMON, THE AVARICIOUS CROW]

[sxypigeon]

Chapter 20 - Bolin tries to write a screen play and everyone has a bad day

Book 5 Absolution (a mostly canon korrasami story)

Things in the refugee camps have gone downhill, Korra checks on Kuvira, and Asami tries not to murder Varrik.

Chapters  1,  19

---

The scene: A dusty Earth Kingdom village on the edge of the Si Wong Desert - a sleepy tourist town in its off season at dusk.

Enter: Ting-Ting in disguise wearing sandbender wraps and clothes, looking for his informant.  He walks down a side street and into the shadiest tavern, through the torn sheet acting as a door.  The interior is crowded and smokey, just the way Ting-Ting likes it.  He approaches the bar and says to the bartender -

“Bolin!”

Said earth bender turned from the window of the airship he’d been vacantly staring out of to his brother.  “What, I’m here - yes! . . . Um, could you repeat that in case I missed everything you just said?”

Mako sighed and rolled his eyes from his seat opposite him, next to Jeong.  “I asked you if you enjoyed your time with Opal, but judging by the look you just had, I guess I don’t need an answer.”

Bolin frowned at the pair of them as they shared a smug smile.  “Of course I did, but that wasn’t what I was thinking about.  I have this idea for a mover I’m working on-”

“Still?” Mako asks in surprise.

“Well, yeah.  What with working on uniting the Earth Kingdom and then saving Republic City, I haven’t had a whole lot of time to work on it.”

“What’s it about?” Jeong asked with interest.

“Oh, here we go,” Mako muttered with a small exasperated grin.

A huge grin lit up Bolin’s face.  “It’s about an ex-United Forces operative named Ting-Ting who’s on the trail of his kidnapped love Ivy.  His arch-nemesis Dr. Razor took her as revenge for Ting-Ting’s last mission with the United Forces to shut down his illegal laboratory where he forced spirits and thugs to merge and become his minions.  Ting-Ting’s research leads him to the edge of the Si Wong Desert where his former partner, Lee, is undercover trying to bust a smuggling ring among the sandbenders.  All clues point to Dr. Razor using the lost city of Sobata in the middle of the desert as his base and the center of the sandbender’s smuggling operation.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of information.  Do you think people will be able to follow along with the plot?”

“Sure, I mean, maybe there’ll have to be a voiceover explaining some of the finer details, but I think-”

“We’re here,” Mako interrupted.  

Jeong smiled and shrugged, “Next time.”

“Yeah,” Bolin muttered, “maybe by then I’ll have a bit more of the plot worked out and not just the backstory.”

---

“What do you mean you took over an Earth Empire reeducation camp?  Where are you?!”

Kuvira sighed tiredly and rubbed her eyes.  The avatar, as usual, had chosen an inopportune time to appear.  “Reeducation Camp 11, just east of the mountains and Fort Senlin.”  She paused to yawn.  “I helped the prisoners overthrow their guards and we currently control the camp and it seems like the Empire forces are unaware.  Was that all - can I go back to sleep?  It’s been a long two days.”

The spectral form of the avatar glared at her for a moment before worry won out over anger.  “What’s your plan for the camp?  Are you going to keep control of it or shut it down?  I don’t think the prisoners will want to stay long if they have the option of leaving.”

She is the wettest blanket.  No appreciation for taking over a camp singlehandedly, I see.  “We’re working on a way to send some of the prisoners by boat to Republic City, others want to stay in the area and fight the Empire locally and reunite with their families,” Kuvira muttered through a yawn.  “Seriously, I’ve had maybe three hours of sleep in the last two days.  Let’s hurry this up.”

“Do you need back up or me to help in any way?”

“Other than going away and letting me sleep?”  Kuvira ignored another glare.  “Send a ship to meet the boat in three days.”

“What about the guards?”

“What about them?”

“Are they dead or your prisoners?  Do they need to be moved?”

“No one has died per your orders,” she sighed.  “I was going to destroy all of the camp except the cells and leave a few days of food.  Someone will investigate if radio-silence goes more than forty-eight hours.”

“Okay, what’s after this?”

I’m working on that, but your pestering isn’t helping.  Kuvira was quickly losing what little patience she had left.  “If all of this works?  Who knows, maybe I’ll open a tea shop in the middle ring of Ba Sing Se and retire.”

Korra looked ready to explode.  “I’m trying to help you!  We both want the same thing!  I can’t do anything for you if you don’t let me in on what you’re thinking.”

“And I’m telling you, right now, what I’m thinking about is sleep.  Now kindly disappear since that seems to be something you’re good at.”

---

This was a mistake.  Why did I ever agree to this?  This was one of the most important buildings in Asami’s entire company . . . and she was letting a known swindler and thief in through the front door.

“You know, I came up with something like this in a dream eighteen months ago,” Varrik said thoughtfully while passing an airplane large enough to hold two dozen people.

There is no plausible way this will end any way, but in disaster.  “As a reminder, Varrik, everything in this building and in or around the surrounding complex is off limits to you and Zhu Li.  These are trade secr-”

“Yeah, yeah.  Zhu Li, did you remember to pack the pumice scrub?  You know how bad my calluses get.” 

Asami gritted her teeth, but maintained a smile for her employee leading the tour.  He will steal at least one of my R&D designs.  He’ll steal it, copyright it, and then counter sue me when I try to take him to court over it.

Varrik wildly flung his arm in the direction of his wife’s head and pointed, “Hey, is that the break room?  Does it have a full kitchen?  Top quality genius requires expertly prepared, well-balanced meals.

He’s going to drive me insane and I’m going to kill him . . . then I’ll go to prison and never see Korra again . . . or I could go on the run and maybe Korra could come with me . . . as long as I don’t have to live in the sewers again.

The group came to a stop just inside the break room while Varrik tested the water pressure and temperature coming out of the taps in the kitchenette.  The tour guide, the head of the research building, approached her with a calm smile born from years of dealing with eccentric researchers. “Will there be anything else, Miss Sato?” 

“No, thank you, Mr. Taka.  That will be all,” she replied.  She waited for him to leave before waving her guests over and addressing them.  “I cannot emphasize this enough: everything you see here falls under the heading Trade Secret and cannot be copied or reproduced in any form-”

Varrik rolled his eyes and wrapped an arm around Asami’s shoulders.  “What are you, a broken record?.  I remember the forms your lawyer made us sign.  She read them all out loud - it nearly put me to sleep.”

“You can never be too careful,” Asami said with a forced smile.  Remember to breathe.  Maiming him won’t make this easier . . . or will it?  “Would you like some time to settle in or-”

“Heck no!  Let’s get straight to business!”  He stepped away, with a hand behind his back and a hand in the air, counting off what he needed on his fingers.  We’re going to need three heavy-duty electro-magnets, five industrial spools of thirty gauge copper wire, multiple sheets of pure platinum ranging from 0.25mm thickness to 5mm, and a pot of black tea every fifty-two minutes.”

Asami attempted to unclench her jaw before answering.  “Zhu Li warned - informed me of what we’d need.  It’s all set up in the lab.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?!  Zhu Li, do the thing!”

Asami watched the newlyweds practically run toward the ballistic R&D laboratory hopelessly.  Maybe everything will go fine . . . and maybe the Earth Empire will spontaneously surrender and give up their super weapons . . . and just maybe I’ll come out of this with my sanity intact.

---

“Is it just me or do these people not seem happy to see us?”  Bolin asked

Mako kept his head on a swivel.  Everyone on their path hurried away as they approached.  “They do not.”

“I don’t like this,” Jeong whispered.  “Something must have happened while we were away.”  She led the group down the dirt path between the rows of tents at a brisk pace.  “Dad!  What’s going on?  What-”

Jeong was stopped in front of her family's tent when the boys caught up to her.  The stricken look on the man’s face told them nearly all of the story.

Mako stepped beside the silent young woman and addressed her father gently, “What happened, sir?”

He breathed deeply and squared his shoulder, trying to hold his emotions in check.  “My son . . . and at least two other members of the neighborhood watch have been abducted.”

“No,” Bolin muttered hopelessly behind Mako.

“Did someone see any of this take place?  Are you sure they’re being held against their will?” Mako asked as he took out his notepad.

“Letters were sent to the families . . . delivered by young orphans we’ve seen with Triple Threat members.”

“This is my fault,” Jeong muttered in shock to herself.  “I stole that weapon.  I set up the watch.  I tried to drive the Triple Threats out of the area-”

“No!  You helped your neighbors!” Bolin insisted.  “Everything you did was to make everyone safer.  We’re going to get everyone back and bring the Triple Threats to justice!”

“Assigning blame isn’t going to help the situation,” Mako cut in, mostly to prevent Bolin from making more promises he wasn’t sure they could keep.  “May I see the letter you received?  Jeong, I need you to stay with your family while Bolin and I look into this.”

Perhaps as a sign of how distraught she was, Jeong simply nodded and headed into the tent.  Her father sighed sadly once she was inside.  “She’s tried so hard to help.  Here, find the bastards and bring my son home . . . please.”

Mako met his eyes and nodded as he took the letter.  “We’ll do everything in our power, sir.  I’ll let you know when I’ve learned anything.”  He grabbed Bolin by the arm and marched them back toward the airship they arrived on.

“Wait, aren’t we going to collect evidence and question the neighbors or stake out a . . .a tent or something?” Bolin asked.

Mako kept his face neutral.  “The two of us can’t take on an entire gang by ourselves.  We’re going to need back up.  There’s a radio in the airship.”

“Oh, right.  We can call for backup?”

“I hope so,” Mako muttered to himself.  If there is any . . .

---

Thanks for reading!

[zippdementia]

Part 94 Alignment May Vary: A Clashing of Fates

The Mountain loomed in the background, the mighty Jarlberg. The armies of the New Alliance, made up of a conglomeration of races from elves to ice barbarians to the common people of the Sword Coast, marched through the ice and snow, chanting battle cries to keep their spirits high. They felt a mighty army, but the sight of the Mountain caused a shiver to run through their ranks. 

The Mountain seemed a god fallen to earth. Around it a black cloud swirled, and as they drew closer they could all see it was no cloud, but winged demons. Two flanks of armed foes stood on either side of the mountain, ready to flank their army. The Yuan Ti were arranged on the left, and it seemed the entire race was present. Imoaza could not see the leader, but she knew that somewhere in that mass was her son, Xaxus, whose name meant “The Serpent Who Would Eat the World.” 

To the right were the Undead, a huge number of them, all the Undead that had attacked Vraath Keep, bolstered to twice that number by all those who had died in that battle. Leading them was a giant of a woman, dead as the rest, but filled with more rage. She wore a bloodstained mask, and Milosh recognized her. It was Sierra, wearing the mask that seemed to transform her into a more powerful fighter. Karina would have known the mask: it long ago had been worn by Shando to make him El Ultimo Santo. 

With a mighty cry, the two armies, both made up of former friends, former foes, and even family, began to advance.

This is a massive battle. On the one side is Abenthy’s army, made up of over 6000 undead, 2300 Yuan Ti, 1000 Demons, and nearly 1000 monsters deserted from the Vraath Keep forces. They have champions, as well. Sierra, wearing the mask of El Ultimo Santo, leads her fellow undead. A Balor has been summoned from the Abyss to assist Abenthy with bringing the realm of Chaos into the physical plane. It leads the demons, all of them flying units. Xaxus leads the Yuan Ti, and there are a couple of other special units yet hidden. Directing it all is the will of the Three Who Are One, having taken Abenthy’s form. He does not seem to be present, but his power moves this armies like pawns on a board.

The New Alliance is only half the size of Abenthy’s army.  Comander Feluver leads it, and has brought a contingent of 2000 wood elves. Waterdeep, followers of Karina, and Baldur’s Gate refugees add another 3000 to this number. The tribe of Ice Barbarians has helped prepare the army for fighting in the snow, while adding 55 of their own number to the fight. And finally, 15 adult dragons, three each from the metallic colors, have come to add their prodigious might to the battle.

What the Alliance lacks in numbers, it makes up in legendary heroes. Immerstal the Red is here, lending his fire magic. Verrick comes with all the power of a death knight, bound to Milosh. Breath Giver has become the leader of Watergate and wields the power of the Blackstaff. Her brother, Orcaheart, is a mighty Ice Barbarian warrior who once (as he reminds him) beat Milosh in a one-on-one combat... with a little help from his sister. Hecate is poised like a knife at the heart of the Yuan Ti, hidden among their ranks and unsuspected in her treachery. Daymos and Jade are present, not fighting, but using their psychic energy to disrupt Abenthy’s control over his army. And of course the PCs themselves: Imoaza the Yuan Ti Weave Seer and Warlock; Milosh the Half Orc Mercenary from another world, choosen by Primus himself to be a champion of order; and Carrick, human Paladin of Primus, infused with the knowledge and wisdom of the Surveyor.

The idea for this combat was inspired by Tyranny of Dragons. I never was satisfied with how the final battle in that campaign is described. The DM is just sort of left to “figure it out” and all the promise that PC actions were going to matter and have a mechanical impact are left behind. It’s a little better written in the rerelease of the campaign, but the major issue is still not resolved: no good mechanics are given to help simulate a battle of the proportions described. 

So to play out this combat, I wanted to fix that problem. I turned to DMs Guild and read a number of mass combat rules, including old 1st Edition D&D rules written by Gary Gygax himself. Most did not meet muster. They were either too complex or clunky, or too nebulous.

But then I found the aptly named “Simple Mass Combat Rules” by Christopher Heatherington. As of this writing, Chris has only done one other release on DM’s Guild, but I know he’s active because he responded to my praise for his Mass Combat Rules. I want to repeat that praise here, and encourage anyone who ever wants to run a mighty army vs army battle in D&D to use these rules. They are good enough I think Wizards of the Coast should officially adopt them.

I won’t go into the details of the rules here, except to say that basically every creature in an army adds to its value, and those values are compared to figure out how much “life” each army has. The higher value army always has 20 life, and the lesser value army has life equal to a percentage of that, based on their army’s power (in this case, 15 for the New Alliance). Each round essentially comes down to two rolls. One is a commander’s roll, to compare how well each army fights. Another is a morale roll, to see if either army breaks its spirit. Affecting these rolls with pluses and minuses are the actions of the PCs, who get to direct the armies and take actions themselves in combat. The focus stays very macro, so you aren’t usually running individual combats (though you can, if you feel it is a key moment).

Below, I’ll take you through the major steps of our battle, and describe how it all plays out.

The First Clash

The Yuan Ti army stays where it is, but the Undead march forward to meet the New Alliance. The PCs work to come up with a plan of attack with Breath Giver and Comander Feluver. They decide to send the Waterdhavians charging against the Yuan Ti, while the Elves and the rest of the Alliance will try to destroy the Undead. Verrick and Orcaheart are assigned the task of taking down Sierra, which they grimly (Verrick) and excitedly (Orcaheart) accept. Immerstal and Milosh lead the charge against the rest of the undead, keeping the troops in line and their morale high. Carrick hangs back with Breathgiver, assisting as medics on the field.

The first clash against the undead El Ultimo Santo has all the intensity of a raging inferno. A circle in the middle of the armies is formed, as even the fearless undead pull away from the raw destructive power of the battle. El Santo is a beast of pure reckless force, crater the icy ground with each blow of her maul like fists. Verrick wields all the unholy might of a Death Knight, and brings it against Santo, sending waves of necrotic energy spiraling around them, refreezing the slush that their boots make of the arena. Faced with such power, it is impressive that Orcaheart shows no fear and holds his own ground, picking the perfect moments to move in and strike against El Ultimo, while she is distracted by Verrick’s furious blows. After a half hour of fighting, the three are still locked in deadly combat.

Meanwhile, the Waterdhavians advance upon the Yuan Ti, but this seems to have been predicted by the clever snake people. They send hails of arrows and blasts of powerful magic raining down on the hapless army. Still, the Waterdhavians charge, seemingly into a suicide run.

However, there is a method to this. The distraction caused by their rush has allowed one very special person to leave the main army and travel undetected across the snow at high speed, using her mastery of the weave to disguise her presence. Invisible, Imoaza steals across the ice, until she is behind the Yuan Ti army. Then, dropping her spell, she assumes the appearance of a non-descript Yuan Ti warrior and blends in with the mighty army, seeking her son, and vengeance.

Mortal Combat

With battle broken upon the two armies, Abenthy seizes the advantage early on. The Waterdhavians are getting crushed under the ranged might of the Yuant ti and their magic. Imoaza has merged with the Yuan Ti army, but pressing through to find Xaxus is like trying to dig through solid rock with your fingernails. The Yuan Ti stand tightly packed and are observant of anything breaking the order. Imoaza has to be careful, but she also needs to be quick: the Waterdhavians are suffering more death every second. Each moment she delays is a moment of failure.

While Imoaza seeks to complete her secret mission, Abenthy moves two assets into position on the field. The demons break off from their perches on the mountaintop and fly towards the main Alliance army, seeking to rain fire and death upon it. They are met mid air by the Allied Dragons, who tear through the demons with mighty blasts of their breath weapons and flashes of claw and tooth. A group of the demons breaks away and lands at the back of the Alliance, led by the leader of the demons, a mighty Balor known only as The Forgotten Death. Milosh and Carrick and Breathgiver come together to lead the rear defense, but the undead are closing in from the front. Immerstal adds his mighty magic to the fray as well.

While all this is going on, Abenthy send his second asset into the field on a secret mission of its own. It is a mighty Dracolich, and it soars silently towards the Alliance headquarters, where it hopes to find the source of the psychic power holding him back: Daymos and Jade. It will easily eliminate the two distracted psychics.

But before it can reach its goal, a mighty roar of sadness splits the sky as the Bronze Dragon Argent, the PC’s companion and mount since the adventure on the Moving Ice, spots the Dracolich and recognizes its essence. It is his mother, the Bronze Dragon Sauros, who so long ago promised aid to Karina and was eventually slain by the Red Hand. Argent, wailing with sorrow, turns from the battle against the demons and flies at his mother, determined to end her suffering. The two dragons clash mid air and begin a deadly, sorrowful dance.

In the midst of these developments, Verrick and Orcaheart finally deliver the killing blow to El Ultimate Santo, though Orcaheart takes a mighty blow, crushing his lower spine, to leave the great beast open. Verrick kills Santo and as he falls, his mask splits in two and Sierra, her undead body broken, is released from his hold over her soul. Santo makes one last statement: “Finally, El Ultimo Santo may go to his rest.” Then the mask falls into dust and soon is lost amidst the snow. Both Sierra and the long suffering soul of El Santo find their rest.

Desperate Measures

With El Ultimo slain, Carrick and Milosh realize they have to press their advantage. However, the undead have no fear. The death of their greatest warrior does nothing except leave them free to attack the ailing Verrick and the downed Orcaheart. MIlosh pulls the two out of the conflict and gets them to safety, fighting off hordes of the undead to break through to the Alliance camp.

“Brother!” Breathgiver ran out of a large pavilion as the soldiers carried the limp form of Orcaheart into the camp. She rushed to his side and took his huge hand in her tiny one.

“Sister,” Orcaheart said, his voice thick with pain. “I have fought the battle of my lifetime and I fear it is to be my last. Do not cry, you need to be a leader now. You are the Blackstaff.”

“I am also still your sister,” she said, angrily wiping the tears from her face. “And it is not your time. There is still work to be done.”

Breathgiver summoned her powers and laid her hands upon Orcaheart. He gasped as the pain was torn from him, as wounds closed and bones mended. He moved his legs slightly. Breathgiver bent and kissed him on the forehead.

“Your fighting days are over,” she said. “That much is true. You will walk, but stiffly, and will never be able to match another in combat as you once did. But there is more to life than fighting, brother. When this battle is over, peace will reign, and I will need your strength by my side to help me rule.”

Orcaheart looked at Milosh, who had dragged him from the fight. “Go,” he said. “You are the only one to have ever defeated Orcaheart in a fight. Now your friend needs your sword arm at his side. Alas, my sister speaks wisdom. I can do no more for you in this battle.”

While this is happening, Carrick is still behind in the mass of swelling undead and Milosh plunges back into the fray to try to reach him, Verrick following him as his bound companion. The three end up separated, fending off wave after wave of the undead, slowly losing their own fighters to the horde. Finally they all end up reunited, back to back, each covered in the blood of the slain.

“They are growing in numbers!” Carrick calls out.

“Our own allies are swelling their ranks,” Milosh answers.

But that isn’t all of it. Carrick reaches out with his divine granted senses and realizes that the army is being restocked continuously by a host of corpse flowers, the disgusting plant like undead that destroyed the Witchwood. He tells Milosh of his discovery, and the two realize that they must take what remains of their army and do everything they can to reach and destroy the Corpse Flowers.

“I will make an opening for you,” Verrick says, and plunges into the middle of the horde.

Milosh looks up and sees dragons falling from the sky, their wings burned to a crisp. The demons screech insanely.

“We are out of time,” Milosh says.

While all this is going on, finally Imoaza finds what she is looking for. Xaxus sits upon a palanquin set astride a mighty Tyranasaur-like creature, long bodied and long tailed, with a face mostly made up of teeth. At his side stands Hecate, seeming completely subservient.

Imoaza thinks fast. “A message from the front,” she cried out, getting Xaxus’ notice. “The One who is Three sends new orders.” Xaxus ushers Imoaza, not recognizing her in her disguise, up onto his platform to give him the news directly. Hecate’s eyes widen, and Imoaza realizes that she, somehow, has realized who she is.

“What is the message?” Xaxus asks.

Imoaza leans close. "Thank you for bringing me my army." 

For a moment, she drops the disguise. Xaxus’ face pales as he recognizes his long lost mother. But before he can react, Hecate blasts him in the back with her gun arm and Imoaza summons Black Razor Alpha to her, and stabs deep into Xaxus’ heart. 

Around them the Yuan Ti go silent, staring up at the sacreligious murder of their mortal deity, the Serpent Who Will Swallow the World.

“What now?” Hecate asks.

“Now we see if the Yuan Ti believed your prophecy about the dragons.”

When All Else Fails

Imoaza stood in front of the full might of the Yuan Ti army. They stared at her and she felt suddenly that she teetered on the edge of a precipice, not a physical chasm, but an edge of time. On one edge, she saw the Yuan Ti throwing themselves like rabid animals against the forces of the Alliance, destroying many of the citizens of Waterdeep, so many dead that the snow turned red with the blood of humans, dwarves, and elves. The Yuan Ti were killed to the last one, the race ended in their rush to meet Dendar the Night Serpant.

That was one path. The Yuan Ti would be forever remembered by history as a powerful race, one which had fought to the bitter end, one which had never been conquered.

One that never thrived again.

The other path showed the Yuan Ti as a peaceful race, peaceful and simple. They were not rulers. They did not conquer or seek power. History forgot them. But they survived. They worshipped the path of the metallic dragons, sought balance in life, and sustainability in living it. They surrendered their armaments and faded into the background of civilization.

And they survived.

Imoaza looked out over the crowd of Yuan Ti watching her and for a moment doubted herself, wondering how she could possibly ever convince the Yuan Ti to be a peaceful people. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder, and turned her head to see Hecate giving her a slight nod of support. She remembered her daughter as she had been, the most bloodthirsty Yuan Ti of all, chasing her across the very planes of existence. If she had changed, had found peace, then so could her race.

Imoaza turned back to the crowds, raised her hands and magnified her voice, and began to speak.

Many things happen on the battlefield. 

Argent and his undead mother, Sauros, let out a mighty roar as their battle ends, the two dragons peeling away from each other, trailing blood in the sky, as they fall behind the mountain and are lost to sight. We make a roll for Argent, a die roll to see if he survives.... which I’ll reveal at the end of the post. 

And the Balor, the Forgotten Death, lands in the midst of the Alliance army, seemingly invincible, and begins carving a path to its leaders, Breathgiver and Feluver. Immerstal pulls on his last resources to hold the Legendary Demon General at bay. Do they survive? It will come down to a roll....

Verrick rushes into the the center of the undead army, where he unleashes his final attack. It is a powerful blast of fire that tears out of him, ripping out of every pore of his body and blasting the undead around him into smithereens. He thinks of Karina as he unleashes his power. We make a die roll for him, too...

Regardless, MIlosh and Carrick know there is only one chance they will get to have this advantage, and they lead a desperate charge through the hole Verrick has made. But already Abenthy is reacting, using all his willpower to draw the undead into an impenetrable line in front of the corpse flowers, knowing that while they exist, he cannot lose this battle. Milosh looks to Carrick as they charge and thinks of sacrifices.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and unleashes a divine blast, a power given to him by the Inevitable, the power that is prophecied to be able to strike down Primus himself. It rushes out of him, and many of their own soldiers die in the blast as it expands out to 60 feet. It tears through the final stand of the Undead. It washes over Carrick, bringing him to his knees... but Carrick stands again, and together with Milosh, they rush the Corpse Flowers, and begin cutting them down.

This is the turning point in the battle. With the Corpse Flowers cut down, the Yuan Ti army in confusion, and the demons outnumbered by the dragons and the remaining alliance, it seems that the heroes have won through!

But Abenthy has only been stalling for time.

From Above

A roar froze everyone in the midst of battle, causing even the Balor to pause mid strike, and turn towards the mountain. Tentacles were erupting all over the mountainside, ripping through space. And emerging...

... no, thought Carrick, covered in the stench-ridden blood of the corpse flowers. No, we have come too far to fail now.

But failed they had, for the battle had only all been a delay, a tactic designed to weaken them in time to summon forth the Tarrasque.

And not just the Tarrasque. Even as the great beast emerged from the portal being ripped in the side of the Jarlberg, the clouded skies split open and a rumble rolled across the battlefield.

Carrick knew what was coming. Abenthy himself was entering the battlefield. Given the power of a god, he was coming to smite those who had been foolish enough to defy him. Carrick fell to his knees, feeling hopelessness wash over him, as the god’s voice split through the sky.

But it was not Abenthy’s voice. It was a battlecry:

“FOR ALDRIC, AND THE GREEN COMPANY!”

Carrick raised his eyes once more skyward, in time to see, not a god coming to smite them, but ships. Dozens of ships, breaking through the atmosphere. And, at their head, one mighty vessel which looked remarkably familiar. The surveyor’s ship, which had taken them across the planets and into the very Abyss itself. It had once been unnamed, but now bright gold letters crossed its hull, spelling out a name Aldric would have been proud of: The Anope.

(DMs note: for those who have forgotten, which is probably everyone except my players, Anope was Aldric’s horse back when he first joined the party)

Then a very familiar voice came cascading over the battlefield:

“Seem to be in a tight spot, gentlemen!” came the cry of Roger Krisp, “What you need is a little help and maybe some of my patented cereal! Captain Krispies! Sure to put a pep in your step! And it comes with prizes. And today, that prize is anti-armor bombardment! Cover your butts!”

And as he spoke, the ships opened fire, launching enough missiles, energy blasts, lasers, and bombs to destroy the rest of Abenthy’s army and even finally take down the Tarrasque.

Who lives? Who dies? I said I’d say at the end of the post, but I maybe kinda sorta lied. I’ll share next time, though, when I’ll also share our final battle against Abenthy, which takes place in a very strange and unique battlefield, and we reach the long awaited conclusion to our campaign.

Thank you so so much for reading this far. We’ll see you at the finish line.

[telleroftales-blog]

Perit, She Who Sculpted The Earth

In the age of Dardanus, father of all, of the gods It was decreed the word which would become law  She who perched her nest high atop Tomor mountain Among those who claimed descent from the Eagle  Must seek the spirit of the mountain, queen of the rocks That all who would seek to rule the land and their children  For without her blessing all the desires and dreams of Man... Zana be her name, the all powerful, the very soul of the land  She Zana, spirit of the mountains and the hills  With Ora of the lakes and rivers, streams and waterfalls... Without her blessing all endeavor would certainly fail  As a horse might falter slipping on a rock  Watching over the terrain, it was they who guided Perit   She, who did flatten the plains, allowing the fire   From within the earth to belch forth  Her forge and bellows for her handiwork Did she carved the river gorges and shaped   The mighty mountain peaks, the inner caves of the Earth   To hide the gems and precious stones for a future day  To the lowland swamps where men plowed the fertile fields  To gain of their sustenance, toiling daily Thus she formed volcanoes, and also the hot springs   Of boiling water, the smell of sulphur ever present  Fermented by the mud and dirt cast down from high places  After years of toil and sweat carving the Earth as we know it 

Perit rested, sweaty now and panting from exhaustion  Lonely now, she desired company... For she was alone and the silence was far too much for her  So she separated her male half from her female side  For she was of two genders, the right and the left  The male and the female powerfully intertwined as one   And thus she created Man, whom she named Burri  A companion and accomplice, in love and harmony   Did the two dwell together  Perit was a goddess of action and will   She gave to Burri all that he desired and needed   In joy and in ecstasy did she proclaim her deed...  “I brought ye here, therefore it is I who must provide for you Ask and ye shall receive, for thou art my companion   I shall be here for you always, my love and my soul As we both will dwell in this place together, happily  The carved mountains and valleys, the gouged river gorges  This place which I have created with my arms and muscle  That give a path of relief to the raging waters   From the heavens above, all this I share with you"  One day Perit gave birth to a baby girl   And the couple were overjoyed Her name was Bija, a child of light with precious eyes  Perit and Burri were happy and they celebrated  For many years, day after day they partook of the dance of life  Singing unto the spirits of the mountains and rivers   A song most joyous and happy Until the day of darkness arrived.... The day that their daughter Bija became a maiden, a woman  Her eyes were full and bright like the Moon now  Burri eyed his daughter with evil intent, with a lustful heart Her figure shapely, her breasts ample, her curves inviting  Burri, not knowing work, the skills of the hunt or seeking sustenance   Knew not the responsibility of maintaining life and property   He fell prey to his inner lust, the call to damnation  One day as Perit was out hunting, seeking rabbits for food  But she didn’t have difficulty finding game Nor did she need to seek and stalk this time, as she always did For a lone hare came to her, and told her prophecy-  “Accept me as thy sacrifice, for today your life will change Throw thy spear surely into my heart, for on this day   You too shall be wounded deeply This is the price you must pay for daring to imagine   That ye could create anything on your own Thou has carved the rocks and cleared the forests  Rendering them into plains and fields   And into mighty mountain ranges that encircle the seas  Oh goddess, hast thou not heard the cries of pain   From those trees and stones as ye cut and forged them? When ye thought to render them to your own desires?   There is a price for everything you touch   There is a price for living, a price for even being alive"   Perit could not fully comprehend what the hare   Was trying to say, thinking these words a ploy   To ward off impending death at the throw of her lance  To escape his fate which awaited him She Perit, spoke- “Think thou not that thy words might spare ye, oh grey hare I shall slay ye and eat of thy flesh, yes  I and my Man, and my child, for we must endure Survival is the way of the living, not the dead  Thy flesh will taste sweet when it roasted over an open fire This is my world, my land, and thou art but an inhabitant  You have a home due to my carving of the rocks   Into mountains and valleys have I rendered them  Be still, as your death will be swift indeed"   And with that she cast her spear with all her might  It entered the hare’s chest and protruded from it’s other side The animal closed it's eyes and died in an instant   Perit carried her motionless catch on her back   She brought it home where she was to prepare a fire So as to cook her prize to feast upon that very evening But as she gathered some wood for the fire  To her amazement she heard human cries and moans   Coming from behind a great rock  She went to investigate and witnessed the unthinkable The unimaginable, the greatest impossibility...  There was Burri, mounted atop his daughter, Bija  Engaged was he in a most lewd act  Bija was crying and screaming, and resisted his advances  Having scratched and bit at her father’s face  In an attempt at defense The bloody marks upon his visage were evidence   Of her attempt to ward him off   But she was powerless to resist his muscular strength   Which pinned her as a lion pins a gazelle   And he continued his savage thrusts amid her cries  Unaware of Perit’s arrival he continued  Deaf to her approach, blind to all awareness  Due to the state of lust he had entered into Perit, enraged at this betrayal, came to the aid of her daughter  And firmly took hold of Burri’s legs   And in the throes of her anger she, with all her force   Threw him over the rock, over the mountains   Where he landed forcibly in some lonesome valley  However, poor Bija, so enwrapped tightly as she was  Caught within his mighty embrace That she too was accidentally thrown along with him Burri landed on the soft side of a riverbed  But the beautiful daughter had fallen now from his grasp  And fell to her death in the chasm below  Her mangled body now crushed, ripped and bloodied   Lying upon the rocks forged by Perit’s own handiwork   Perit stood silent on the cliff’s edge, unable to speak  Tears filled her eyes but she was unable to look down below  Into the valley where her beloved daughter lay  Her body motionless and still, once breathing now dead   Perit was in a state of shock and disbelief  Still not able to understand what had just occurred, or why Now she began to contemplate the prophecy of the hare who informed her  That as he would be wounded by her spear  so she would be as well...  Death for a death, a deed for a deed, this is the law of life   She took a deep breath and let out a great moan Like that of a wounded she bear  Or as a wolf howling at the Moon on a cold Winter’s night After she was able to compose herself, the great Perit called out to Burri from atop the mountain home that was once his   Given in love, joy and generosity  Perit cried out in a stern voice that echoed across the valley- “Be it known that thou hast broken my trust  Oh wretched man!  What a despicable act you have committed   With all that I have done for you! Never will you dwell here with me again And you shall live out your days  In that lonely valley, with snakes and scorpions   As companions and friends  From this day forth, let there be a solemn word for all   Who enter into an agreement The solemn word shall be called Besa, a sacred oath   Of loyalty and fealty  And let there be death for those who dare to break this word A thousand curses on those who break the Besa  Upon them and all their families For a thousand years, until their name and memory   Is wiped from the Earth, forever  Thou hast broken my heart  Until now did I think myself immortal I shall live out my years here alone, until the day I pass   From this miserable existence  Once again is the dominion of the Earth returned   To the great spirits of the mountains and the lakes  Praise be to Zana and Ora!  Who will watch over the land and the people   Never granting power to tyrants and evil doers  Reminding all that we are powerless  For our existence is but a dream  The land survives, that which I carved with   The muscle of my arms and the sweat of my brow... The mountains, the river gorges, the plains   The rocky shores, all of it  All there for the future generations, to live upon   Or to make war upon each other  As humans see fit, as men will see fit  For men will surely destroy this world  Though they be created of women, they are   The breakers of trust and the greediest of beings  May all their doings be cursed with vagueness   And their work regarded with much suspicion”   Perit ordered some eagles to fetch   The broken body of her abused daughter   And bring it back to her proximity   When they returned she clutched Bija tightly Kissing her forehead repeatedly  Rocking her lifeless body to and fro  As she did when she was an infant in her arms Blending her tears with her daughter’s now bloodied face  Singing in monotones that song which would become known as vajtim The chant of the dead...  “Oh my dream, my vision, where have ye flown?  Innocent one, ‘tis I who brought you into this world And I who dared to think I could create your destiny  Nor will you carry on my lineage Never will you embrace the arms of a lover  Never will you know the joy of the hunt   The pleasant song of birds are not for your ears Or the sound of fish splashing about in the rivers  Forgive me, for it was out of love and need that I acted  Fooled and tricked by the man I created for my own desires The old hare was correct, there is a price for everything in this life…the hare paid this price with his...  I pay with the life of my daughter! I damn this creation which I alone have brought forth  Woe is me and mine, forever, woe unto me and mine   For what we have done!”   Then she Perit once again stood on the precipice  And called out to all the world- “From this day forth let it be known   To all the descendants of generations to come For any of you to be a ruler among the nations and the tribes   Know that they must come to this mountain   And seek the guidance of the great spirits Zana and Ora Who will surely test them as to their dedication   And as to their truthfulness  And if these would-be chiefs are proved worthy   They will be granted their blessing  If they are proven not worthy   Let them be cast down into the chasm below Their crushed bodies a reminder of   My own poor Bija’s crushed body  Which lay there alone and innocent  Her young blood mingling with the river's flow   For those who pass the test of Zana and Ora  They who rise forth to take command of the clans   And lead their people to victory Let their lives be a story recounted when they die So that when they leave you, sing of their glories  Or sing then of their evil deeds  So all will know who they were and what they did in life  Sing the vajtim and sing it loudly!   This will be a warning that would insure  They live a life of noble gratitude and justice   Rather than one of trickery, evil doings and lust”  These last commandments were thus delivered   Echoing in the valley until the coming of men Citing that all beings will do what they see fit in their time  Though humans have no knowledge of what the future may hold or how one’s actions will affect others on the morrow  Perit looked up at the mountain peak where Zana and Ora  Dwelled among the clouds that enshrouded these mountains  She asked for their forgiveness, to which they gave With that Perit closed her eyes and without hesitation  Leapt from the cliff, plunging into the valley below Her blood and her being blended with the fast moving river  The violently churning waters became now   Like the foam and bubbles produced by   Those helpless unfortunates drowning, thrashing about  To save their own lives… Thus the swiftly flowing water became known for all time   As Lum i Shkumbi, the River of Foam How foolish then, are the created ones?  Those beings, all of them, Men and Beasts  Born into this prison of existence Nothing can be done about our situation  As we have no choice in the matter  No chest of gold or silver will deliver us from our destiny  There is a price we pay to be alive, to be, costly indeed   For the very experience of living But to live accordingly, with honor and dignity  With the knowledge of trust and law  This is what helps the pain of the reality  So we can pass on to our children our stories They who will dwell in a realm we can never hope to see... That we might be remembered one day by those  Who come after us, who will tell our stories and recite our tales… In the realm of multiple tomorrows