#look at him picking through the pile of bamboo leaves trying to find a left over 🥺🥺😭😭😭

[watch-grok-brainrot]

A Good Sword

Written for @mdzsnet 1 year net anniversary event. Request sent in by @susuwatari-kompeito​

Rated: G

Word Count:  4392

Characters: Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin, Suibian (Módào Zǔshī), Lan Yuan | Lan Sizhui, Lan Jingyi, OC character mentions

Other tags:  Post-Canon, sentient weapons, cw blood, cw injury, Night Hunt, Yunmeng, Post-Canon, Established Relationship WangXian, Gusu, Jiang Cheng being difficult, I stan the least Lan of Lans who also happens to be the best Lan, food mentioned

Summary: Wei Wuxian is forming a golden core in Mo Xuanyu's body. He realizes this means he can wield Suibian again but Lan Wangji reminds him it's with Jiang Cheng in Yunmeng. Their help is requested to subdue supernatural disturbances on Mushan Island so Wangxian head there with some juniors. During the night hunt, they run into Jiang Cheng who happens to have Suibian with him. How will Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian resolve who gets to keep the sword?

Thank you @merelhyn and Aube for the beta!

[Gusu, Cloud Recesses]

A warm spring breeze drifted through the bamboo forest outside the Jingshi, rustling the leaves. As the wind ebbed and flowed, the rustling rose and fell, mimicking the sound of ocean waves. The soothing sound of the bamboo served as stark contrast to the stillness of the Jingshi. Cool sandalwood smoke curled up from a small ceramic incense burner, tumbling up and dissipating into the air. Lan Wangji knelt before his desk with his back straight and shoulders relaxed. A small mountain of letters piled to his right. Three stacks sat neatly to his left. He took a letter from the pile to his right, skimmed it twice with his pale colored eyes, and carefully set it in the appropriate pile to his left. The sandalwood smoke continued to rise as Lan Wangji methodically moved through his work. Only the occasional crinkling of paper and the wave-like sound of bamboo could be heard. The stillness was interrupted when Wei Wuxian charged into the building. Lan Wangji looked up at the sound of quick footsteps. “Lan Zhan! Look what I noticed today!” Wei Wuxian shoved his wrist in front of Lan Wangji. His shirt was half open, showing his bare chest, and his cheeks flushed from exercise. “Mn?” Lan Wangji asked, setting down the letter he was reading. He looked up at Wei Ying’s face and then his gaze drifted to Wei Ying's bare chest. “Feel, Lan Zhan! Feel my pulse!” Wei Wuxian waved his wrist in front of Lan Wangji’s face as he plopped down next to Lan Wangji. Lan Wangji caught the flailing limb, set Wei Ying’s hand gently onto the desk, and pressed his fingers against the other man’s pulse. Wei Ying beamed as Lan Wangji assessed his pulse, feeling along the paths of the shorter man’s meridians. Lan Wangji’s qi was met with Wei Ying’s own energy and ferried to Wei Ying’s core. A golden core was forming inside his Wei Ying at last. “It’s coalescing.” “Yes! And at a decent pace too! Before you know it, I’ll be able to fight with a sword again! Are you looking forward to sparring with me?” “Mn,” Lan Wangji felt the corner of his lips pull back slightly. “Hey, Lan Zhan, speaking of swords, do you know what happened to Suibian? I haven’t seen it for months. Did I misplace it somewhere in Jingshi?” “Jiang Wanyin has it.” “What? Since when?” “When we left Yunmeng.” “Huh. I don’t remember this.” “Do you remember Jin Guangyao provoking Jiang Wanyin about the core transfer?” Wei Wuxian’s eyes darted up towards the ceiling briefly. “He could pull Suibian from its sheath. I remember that now! Hm… I wonder if he’s planning on keeping it or if…” Wei Wuxian trailed off as he turned around and leaned against Lan Wangji’s shoulder. “Lan Zhan, were you working this morning?” “Perusing correspondence. I should continue,” Lan Wangji responded as he wrapped his left arm around Wei Ying. He placed a kiss on the other man’s hair and breathed in — musk from exercising, dust from outside, pine resin, and hint of prickly spice. “Wei Ying always smells good.” The other man laughed. “You always smell good too, Lan er-gege.” Always active, Wei Ying reached towards Lan Wangji’s desk. “Lan Zhan, watcha reading now?” “We received a letter seeking help from Wuhu Gong Sect.” “Wuhu? Where is that?” “Between Gusu and Yunmeng, east of Hefei.” “What did they want?” “Disturbances on ChaoHu’s MuShan Island near Hefei.” “What kind?” “Unclear.” “Are we going to go help?” Lan Wangji waited, choosing not to answer. Wei Ying will figure it out. “Silly question. You go where the chaos is,” Wei Wuxian turned and kissed Lan Wangji. He then laughed, “And here I thought I was the chaos.” Lan Wangji huffed out a small snort. “Alright, alright. We should write back and go help out. I’ll find Chenqing and pack our stuff. You can finish your pile of letters.” “Check between the bed and the window.” “What?” Wei Wuxian hopped from where he was sitting and bounded over to the bed. “You left Chenqing there earlier in the month.” “You really remember everything, don’t you, Lan Zhan?” “No. Only if it pertains to Wei Ying.”

[Yunmeng, Lotus Pier]

Jiang Cheng snapped his head up at the sound of running. “Zongzhu! Help is requested urgently from Hefei!” A young disciple charged into the room waving a letter. “Is there the need to yell and run? Will a few additional moments change the outcome?” Jiang Cheng scolded as he snatched the folded message from the frantic disciple. “Go practice ‘Picking Lotus Roots in the Mud’ in the courtyard at one fifth the standard pace.” “Uh… One fifth?” “Do I need to repeat myself?” Jiang Cheng looked the boy in the eye. “No Zongzhu. Right away,” the disciple scurried off. Jiang Cheng watched the retreating figure and wondered if he himself could even perform the form at one fifth the speed. No matter, the boy was supposed to practice and it would teach him patience. Jiang Cheng turned his attention to the message in his hand. It was from Hefei’s Mi sect, a small sect allied to Yunmeng： “Seeking help from Sandu Shengshou Jiang Wanyin and the Yunmeng Jiang Sect. Mysterious yao disturbances on ChaoHu’s MuShan Island. Hefei Mi and Wuhu Gong attempted to subdue to no avail. Many spiritual weapons were lost in the process. The disturbances have been intensifying over the past three months. The people suffer. Area sects are forced to seek aid from major sects. Hefei Mi Sect Mi Tayan” Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes and refolded the letter. Why can’t minor sects be more competent? He and Wei Wuxian were probably subduing yao of that caliber when they were thirteen. Then again, Gong and Mi have had decent reputations lately. Maybe he should not underestimate the yao. Jiang Cheng’s right thumb began idly spinning the violet ring on his middle finger. ChaoHu was large. Yao thriving on those resources could be powerful. Such situations would be best approached with caution. A pity he couldn’t simply ignore this. As the Mi sect was Yunmeng’s most loyal supporter, Yunmeng was obligated to help. Luckily he had at least one spiritual weapon to spare. He stood and swept out of the room.

[MuShan Island]

Dusk blanketed the island in the middle of Chaohu. As the long shadows of trees merged into deep blue darkness, a full moon rose to cast a crisp white light over the party of cultivators on a night hunt. “Lan Zhan! There’s something over here!” Wei Wuxian said as he threw out a talisman towards a large tree. They had been scouring the island since lunch time and Wei Wuxian was growing hungry. The talisman flew forward, glowed bright red, and expanded into a spiritual net, aiming to capture an unidentified target. Wei Wuxian followed his talisman attack by pulling out Chenqing, twirling the flute in his hand once to adjust positioning, and bringing it to his lips. As the high pitch trill of the black bamboo flute pierced the air, the red glow of the spiritual net flickered and flared. Shadows pulsated against the net and Wei Wuxian closed his eyes to focus on pushing his will onto the creature with his infamous demon flute. “Sizhui, flank right with your group. Jingyi, flank left with yours. Aim to subdue, not kill,” Lan Wangji instructed the group of juniors. He then summoned Wangji qin from his qiankun pouch and set about sending spiritual energy towards Wei Wuxian’s net. Sizhui and Jingyi had developed enough experience that they were leading small groups on their own in major night hunts. The two juniors directed their groups to take up positions based on the Seven Stars of the Northern Dipper. Then, they all unsheathed their swords and sent them towards the being under the net. The spiritual blades danced around Wei Wuxian’s talisman. As they flew, the swords collided continuously. “PoZhangYin!” Wei Wuxian opened his eyes and exclaimed after a few collisions, realizing the clanging of the blades played out Gusu’s famous battle melody. “That’s a clever use of swords! I see someone has been teaching useful things like creativity and practical application of known skills!” “Wei-qianbei has a good ear!” Jingyi said as his sword hit Sizhui’s. “It was Sizhui’s idea. He remembered that awful blade of grass you used and thought we could do the same with our swords. We have been practicing!” “Jingyi, focus,” Lan Wangji chided, sending another wave of qin energy towards the target. “Wei Ying, do you know what it is?” “Some sort of old waterfowl yao. I can’t quite get a sense of it yet. Possibly a duck. Hey, Hanguang-jun, do you want to have roast duck for dinner?” “I prefer sampling local delicacies,” Lan Wangji responded, his voice steady as he sent another wave of energy towards the trapped yao. “You do have a point, Lan Zhan. I hear the Binjiong cakes here are good. We should give them a try.” “Mn. Focus so Wei Ying can eat later. It’s loquat season.” Wei Wuxian laughed, “Alright! Your treat, Hanguang-jun!” He turned his attention back to the trapped yao. As the nine cultivators poured their energies into the talisman and sword formation, the shadows emanating from the net began to subside. After a stick of incense worth of time, the last notes of PoZhangYin clanged from the swords and the talisman net’s bright glow softened to the dim light of embers. Anguished quacks could be heard. “Wei-qianbei! You’re right, it is a duck yao!” The noises continued and Wei Wuxian’s brows furrowed. Something did not feel right. The sound was not… Wei Wuxian cursed and bolted to the yao. He hurriedly started casting a silencing talisman while explaining, “This isn’t a duck yao. It’s a mandarin duck yao and she’s calling for her mate. He’s probab—” Something fast crashed into his back, knocking him forward. He fell, crushing the talisman net and releasing the yao inside. “Wei Ying!” Wei Wuxian heard Lan Zhan yell as energy waves from Wangji washed over him. Both yao being hit by the chord attacks reared up and expanded in size. The smell of rotting fish, stale lake water, and decaying wood filled Wei Wuxian’s nose. The two yao propelled themselves into the air, their attention diverted from Wei Wuxian to Lan Wangji. “Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian yelled as he scrambled up and brought Chenqing to his lips again. The strong melancholy notes from Chenqing pushed towards the yao, attempting to control them. “Sizhui, Jingyi, Bagua formation! Contain them. Vanquish if necessary,” Lan Wangji ordered, Wangji still in hand. He swept his fingers over the seven strings, sending out seven separate chord assassination attacks. The juniors took positions in accordance to Bagua with Lan Wangji at the Qian position and Sizhui at the Kun position wielding their respective qin. The other juniors’ swords wove around the two yao. Marsh, Fire, Thunder, Wind, Water, and Mountain anchored between Heaven and Earth. The Bagua formation shifted between its permutations, drawing upon these primal aspects of nature. The two yao, trapped in an ever-mutating array of sword and qin energies, struggled against the Lan sect attack at first. The female soon calmed. She flew around the male, calming him as well. They hovered in midair observing the attacks. Then, the two yao moved. The female allowed herself to get hit by an attack from Lan Haoye. The sword stabbed into her left side but seemed to do little damage. Instead, the sword became embedded in the yao and Haoye lost control of her sword. Then, the female dove for the youngest cultivator, Lan Pinshu, who stood halfway between Lan Sizhui and Lan Wangji. The male, similarly, took a hit from Lan Runchan and dove for Lan Jinglin. Haoye stood on the water position and Pinshu on fire. Lan Runchan was on marsh and Jinglin on mountain. Wei Wuxian cursed again, “Everyone be careful. They’re taking hits aligned with their nature to strengthen themselves and attacking the opposite element to counter us. The female is cunning.” Wei Wuxian gathered his qi and pushed off the ground towards Pinshu. Times like these he missed his old body. This one was still too slow and had too little reach. To accelerate himself further, he slapped a talisman onto his lower back. He was closer to the boy than the female yao. He had a chance to protect the boy if he could just move between them. The force of the magic boosted his speed, giving him just enough time to step between the yao and the boy. He tucked Chenqing into his qiankun sleeve and grabbed Haoye’s sword jutting from the yao’s side. The yao screamed, strong resentful energy burst forth from her body. Gusts of resentment whipped around Wei Wuxian and Lan Pinshu, lifting up small pieces of foliage and debris. Wei Wuxian stood firm, putting himself between the yao and Pinshu, using his body as a shield. He clung onto Haoye’s sword and sliced down, aiming to split the yao in half. The yao screeched for her mate. The male yao abandoned his trajectory, shifting his body and arced towards Wei Wuxian. In flight, his form flattened into a blade with his beak elongating and sharpening into a point. Wei Wuxian saw the male yao approach but stood his ground. Haoye’s sword cut through and broke free from the female yao as the male yao’s beak pierced Wei Wuxian’s left side, sliding between two of his ribs. Before Wei Wuxian could redirect Haoye’s sword to slice towards the yao embedded half way in his chest, a bright flash of purple accompanied by a loud pop grabbed the tail end of the yao and forcibly pulled it out of Wei Wuxian’s chest. Wei Wuxian bit down on a scream. There was no reason to scare Pinshu right now. Wei Wuxian heard his name through a daze as something zoomed towards him. He lifted up Haoye’s sword to deflect the projectile but instinct took over and he found himself catching the object at the last moment. Suibian, his old sword, rested in his hand. In his previous life, Suibian’s hilt fit his hand so perfectly it was as if the sword had formed knowing it would be his. Considering the inscription on its sheath, maybe it did know. In this new body, his hand was just a fraction too small to wield Suibian with that old familiarity and ease. Wei Wuxian tightened his grip on his old friend. “Wei Wuxian, pay attention!” The sound of Jiang Cheng yelling shook Wei Wuxian from his thoughts. The female yao charged at him with half her entrails spilling from her body. Wei Wuxian unsheathed Suibian, pulled spiritual energy from his newly forming golden core, and sliced towards the yao. After a few exchanges, Suibian decapitated the creature, its body falling to the ground with a splat. Wei Wuxian smiled, “Suibian, looks like we still got this.” He thought he felt the sword shiver in response. Looking around, he saw Jiang Cheng and the Lans had disposed of the male yao as well. Lan Wangji and Sizhui were putting their qin away; Zidian was receding into Jiang Cheng’s ring; and the juniors were all sheathing their swords. Wei Wuxian watched Lan Wangji give instructions to the five unseasoned juniors to cleanse the area of residual resentment. Everyone was safe and well. He let out a sigh of relief which turned into coughs. Blood dribbled from his mouth and he fell to his knees. As he toppled forward, his right hand shot out to support his weight as his left hand pressed against the suddenly searing wound on his chest. Footsteps and people yelling his name closed in around him. “Wei Ying!” “Wei-qianbei!” “Wei Wuxian!” “I’m ok. Just a small wound,” Wei Wuxian tried to wave everyone off. Lan Wangji knelt by Wei Wuxian and started examining his puncture wound. “I can’t believe you let that yao hit you. What were you thinking? What if it were trying to curse you?” Jiang Cheng walked up and started scolding. “I was fighting the female.” “You’re coughing up blood.” “Jiang Cheng, you try having something stab you in the lungs. I’m sure you’ll cough up some blood too,” Wei Wuxian retorted, making himself cough up more blood. “Jin Guangyao did a few months ago, remember?” “Wei Ying. Stop talking.” “Jiang-zongzhu, maybe it’s not the best idea for you to antagonize Wei-qianbei right now,” Sizhui spoke up, giving Lan Wangji nervous glances. Lan Wangji stymied the blood flow by hitting a few choice acupoints. He then disinfected Wei Wuxian’s wound with a stream of qi and sprinkled some wound sealing powder to help accelerate clotting. He wrapped his right arm around Wei Wuxian’s waist, “Can you stand?” Wei Wuxian gave a nod and let Lan Wangji help him up. He looked at Jiang Cheng awkwardly. “Um…” “I’m just here to retrieve my sword.” “Sandu?” “The one in your hand.” Wei Wuxian felt his grip on Suibian tighten. “Suibian has always been my sword.” “It unsheathes for me.” Wei Wuxian paused. What argument could he use? They both knew Suibian would unsheathe for Jiang Cheng because Jiang Cheng has Wei Wuxian’s golden core. Because it was what Wei Wuxian owed the Jiangs. Because Wei Wuxian did not believe Jiang Cheng would be able to survive without one. But that was not an argument he could make. His chest was hurting and he did not need to revisit Jiang Cheng’s reaction. “I’m taking your silence as agreement,” Jiang Cheng reached for the sword. Wei Wuxian pulled Suibian out of Jiang Cheng’s reach. “Suibian also unsheathes for me.” “Suibian was given to you as the head disciple of Yunmeng Jiang. You’re no longer in the sect. You defected. I should have taken Suibian with me then,” Jiang Cheng drew himself to his full height and looked down his nose at Wei Wuxian. “Suibian is sentient. It knows Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji spoke up, glaring down at Jiang Cheng. “Suibian is made from the trees of Yunmeng, its blade quenched with our waters. It belongs in Yunmeng. And it knows me as well.” “Suibian has always been Wei Wuxian’s sword. You did not take it when Wei Ying moved to the Burial Mounds. It is not yours to take right now.” “Wei Wuxian would not even have it had I not brought it as a backup to Sandu today.” “Jiang Cheng, why are you here anyway? And why bring Suibian?” Wei Wuxian asked. “Mi Tayan wrote Yunmeng seeking help. Apparently the Gong sect and Mi sect could not handle these two on their own. Suibian served as a spare since the yao had been taking spiritual weapons,” Jiang Cheng answered frankly. He then looked Wei Wuxian up and down. Wei Wuxian shrunk into Lan Wangji, hearing Jiang Cheng’s unspoken words: Your new body is weak. You don’t have a golden core anyway. You can’t use it for long. “A few days ago, I felt the beginning of a golden core coalescing.” Jiang Cheng raised an eyebrow. “Why are you telling me this? Why would I care?” “I will have the strength to wield Suibian again. Suibian is mine.” “You can take it when you can and are willing to take the golden core inside me back,” Jiang Cheng spat. His ring crackled as Zidian sent forth a warning shock. “You know I would never do that.” “Then give me back my sect’s sword.” Wei Wuxian pushed Lan Wangji away and placed his right hand on Suibian’s hilt. “I don’t want to fight you Jiang Cheng but I’m not someone you can bully.” Zidian crackled. “Suibian belongs to Yunmeng. I will not let Lan-er or any other self-righteous, headband wearing, cultivator take what belongs to my sect. Yunmeng will not back down.” Sizhui interjected, “Wait. Fighting now is unproductive. Jiang-zongzhu, Wei-qianbei, is there no other resolution? If Suibian is sentient, can we not ask it to choose?” “Yeah! Even if Jiang-zongzhu beats Wei-qianbei, it wouldn’t reflect well on Yunmeng. I didn’t think Yunmeng would be the type to pick on someone who was just injured and without a fully formed core,” Jingyi added. Wei Wuxian scoffed, “You’re not holding back, are you, Jingyi?” “Sorry Wei-qianbei. Fighting Jiang-zongzhu right now would be so unfair to you.” “Ask it to choose?” Jiang Cheng scoffed at Sizhui. “Suibian isn’t some spirit you can just ask with WenLing who it is, how it died, what it wants. It’s a sword that has bonded with a person.” Jingyi laughed, “Well, then we just have to show if it’s bonded more to the soul or the golden core.” “And how do you propose to do this? I’ve never heard of such an assessment.” “Jiang-zongzhu, we just need to be a bit creative. Would you mind performing some initial tests with us?” Sizhui asked. “I’m not here to play games.” “We are serious, right, Sizhui? We are simply trying to apply our new-found creativity and practical application of known skills!” Jingyi beamed. Sizhui did not roll his eyes at his smug friend. “Jiang-zongshu, has Jin Ling ever spoken with you about the events that transpired at Yi City involving Xue Yang, Song Lan-daozhang, and Xiao Xingchen-daozhang? “Some.” “Are you aware that Xue Yang had Shuanghua at the time? And Hanguang-jun was able to take it from him?” “Jin Ling did mention something like that.” “Shuanghua was aware that Xue Yang did not align with Xiao Xingchen-daozhang’s world view and thus abandoned Xue Yang. I believe if you and Wei-qianbei are both able to wield Suiban then it becomes a matter of seeing if one of you can override the other’s will.” Jiang Cheng pursed his lips into a line. Sizhui added, “Jiang-zongzhu, you have the advantage here. Considering Wei-qianbei’s lower cultivation, he would only be able to override your will if Suibian is truly loyal to him. You have very little to lose.” “Fine,” Jiang Cheng scowled. “Let’s get this over with.” Sizhui then turned to Wei Wuxian, “Wei-qianbei, would you mind sending Suibian out to encircle that tree, approaching from the left, and returning it to its sheath?” Wei Wuxian performed the task. “Wei-qianbei, hand Suibian to Jiang-zongzhu,” Jingyi ordered. “Jiang-zongzhu please do the same but approach from the right.” Jiang Cheng performed the task with a bored expression. “Jiang-zongzhu, please hand Suibian back to Wei-qianbei. Now, Wei-qianbei will perform the same task as he did earlier. You goal, Jiang-zongzhu is to get Suibian to circle the tree from the other direction.” Wei Wuxian stared at the sword that was too big for his hand. Are you really mine? Or have you bonded with Jiang Cheng in the last few months? He closed his eyes, sighed, and sent Suibian flying. Suibian flew true and returned to Wei Wuxian. Jiang Cheng scowled, “Is that it? This proves nothing.” “There is at least one more step,” Sizhui answered respectfully. “Wei-qianbei, give Suibian to Jiang-zongzhu. Your turn to try to make Suibian fly the other direction!” Jingyi said, shaking with excitement. “Jiang-zongzhu, if Wei-qianbei is able to divert Suibian, then it is likely bonded with him more than with you. If not, then we will need to find a different way to assess the ownership of the sword.” Wei Wuxian nodded and whispered to the sword, “Suibian, you sealed for me for thirteen years. I cannot ask for more. But maybe do me a favor this one time.” He then handed it over to Jiang Cheng. Sizhui stared Jiang Cheng in the eye. “You may proceed.” Suibian flew out from Jiang Cheng towards the pre-appointed tree. It started veering right but wobbled. Jiang Cheng’s brow furrowed, driving it back on course. Wei Wuxian bit his lip, his eyes narrowing slightly, shoving his focus into the sword. The distance between where they stood and the tree was only ten zhang or so. He didn’t have much time. He could feel Jiang Cheng urging the sword to the right. Wei Wuxian shifted his weight onto the balls of his feet, mentally reaching for Suibian. Suibian, I miss you. Please. Wei Wuxian could feel Jiang Cheng’s connection to the sword snap as Suibian swerved in mid-air, circled the tree from the left, and flew into Wei Wuxian’s grip. Jiang Cheng let out a startled grunt. Wei Wuxian almost laughed at the familiar sound. It reminded him of childhood in Yunmeng, of waking up to that sound and a thud as Jiang Cheng rolled off his bed. A grin spread across Wei Wuxian’s face. “Incredible! Suibian really is sentient,” Pinshu sighed in admiration. “I thought only cultivators who had bonded for a lifetime with their swords had that sort of loyalty!” “Suibian has always been loyal to Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji explained. “Its inscription is indicative of its devotion. Sizhui, Jingyi, good work." The two juniors stood up straighter and grinned at each other under Lan Wangji's praise. Jiang Cheng handed Suibian's sheath to Wei Wuxian, “Yours. Don’t be too smug. I don’t want it if it doesn’t belong to Yunmeng. And stop leaving it places.” “Jiang Cheng…” “What?” “Thank you.” “Whatever. It’s not like it’s that good a sword anyway,” Jiang Cheng said and stalked off into the darkness to look for the other members of his sect. Wei Wuxian clung onto Suibian, “Welcome back. I’ve missed you.” He suddenly lifted up Suibian and stared at the sword in awe. “Wei Ying?” “Lan Zhan, is my hand suddenly bigger?” Wei Wuxian asked, holding up a hand that once belonged to a man named Mo Xuanyu. Lan Zhan held up his hand as well. Wei Wuxian’s hand was smaller by the same familiar margin. “No. Why does Wei Ying ask?” Wei Wuxian gripped Suibian by the hilt and held out his fist out. “My hand was a bit too small earlier tonight. And now it’s perfect for my hand again.” “Mn. Suibian is a good sword.” “Suibian really is a good sword,” Wei Wuxian echoed. “Hey, do you think you can treat your poor wounded husband to some roast mandarin duck and Binjiong cakes now?” “Loquats as well. My treat,” Lan Wangji nodded once with a hint of a smile.

Author’s notes: 

1) For SHL/WOH fans, I was working on this request and trying to find a place between yunmeng and gusu. I ended up seeing Hefei, Chaohu, and Mushan Island. As I was zooming out, I noticed Wuhu was a town pretty close by… so I decided to shove a reference to Gong Jun and his Wuhu singing into my story as an easter egg. I’m not sorry.

2) Poetry references: A - The name of the form JC asks the disciple to practice is 泥中采藕 in chinese. I pulled it from this poem: 元 · 丁鹤年 水上摘莲青的的，泥中采藕白纤纤。 却笑同根不同味，莲心清苦藕芽甜。

B - This is completely me being derp. Hefei is a location where the name fertile (in terms of soil)/fat is part of the name. I chose the sect to have a last name related to grains. And then I looked up that character in poetry to name the sect leader: 黄庭坚 (宋） 嚼冰进糜餐，冲雪踏层巘

C - Since CR’s name is from a Jia Dao poem, I chose to pull all the names of the OC juniors from Jia Dao Poems as well: Pinshu is from: 《让纠曹上乐使君》 瓶汲南溪水，书来北岳僧。

Haoye is per: 《上谷旅夜》 月到寒窗空皓晶，风翻落叶更飕飗

Jinglin and Runchan I took inspiration from: 《升道精舍南台对月寄姚合》 月向南台见，秋霖洗涤余。 出逢危叶落，静看众峰疏。 冷露常时有，禅窗此夜虚。 相思聊怅望，润气遍衣初。

3) Seven Stars of the Northern Dipper is the big dipper. It’s common in wuxia as a formation. Same goes for Bagua. Both are daoist but so is Xianxia type cultivation. I know the Lans are Buddhist in origin but they really aren’t that way religion-wise.

4) Mandarin ducks are yuanyang and a term/symbol of a loving couple and monogamous faithfulness.

5) 滨炯一品玉带糕 are binjiong yiping (first ranked) jade-belted cakes. They’re a famous pastry/cake in the area. Idk if it’s period accurate but mdzs isn’t period accurate so i’m using it. 姥山枇杷 (mushan loquats) are supposed to be large, sweet, thin skinned with lots of flesh and super juicy. It was a good thing to include since this story is so heavily wangxian. And i don’t know if people eat mandarin ducks, but I would want to if i were wwx after that night hunt.

#mdzsnet #fytheuntamed #fymdzs #the untamed #陈情令 #wei wuxian #魏无羡 #lan wangji #蓝忘机 #jiang cheng #江澄 #随便 #suibian #Lan Jingyi #蓝景仪 #lan sizhui #蓝思追 #cw blood #wwx in mo xuanyu's body #fanfic #my fanfic #long post

[women-inthe-sequel]

“I said I’d take care of you, did you think I wouldn’t follow through on that?”

ao3

--

The day after Christmas was turning out to be a quite terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

All the best spots in the parking lot were full. The return lines were long, so much so that they nearly went out of the store and onto the sidewalk. When she gathered up the courage to use a public restroom, it was out of toilet paper and paper towels.

Or maybe the tension from yesterday’s Christmas dinner with Petunia and her new fiancé was getting to her and ruining the rest of her week.

Either way, Lily was determined to take full advantage of the merchandise credit in her hand. After waiting for several people in front of her to complain about the return policy (which Lily actually found to be rather generous), she finally had it in hand.

It came, of course, from returning that awful package from Petunia. Her present this year had come with a passive aggressive comment from her sister about still using her bedding from college. She tried to stomach the comments with non-committal statements and a forced smile, but Lily could only take so much.

It was a certain kind of Christmas miracle when Petunia closed the door behind her without either of them yelling.

After all that, Lily deserved to get a new comforter she actually liked and some of those bamboo sheets they always talked about on TV.

Her problem now was that a merchandise credit return meant she had to find something worthwhile in this particular store. What, she would like to ask, was the point of a giant sign about a forty percent off sale, if nothing actually fell under the sale?

“I’m sorry,” the woman at the counter said for the third time. “This item is excluded from discounts and coupons.”

It wasn’t her fault, Lily reminded herself. This woman probably wanted to be here even less than Lily did. It was moments like these when it became clear why some people got that haircut and started demanding to speak to the manager.

Maybe it was the manager’s fault, for putting up such a big sign and then preventing any items from allowing it to be used.

Petunia would do that. Petunia would complain and raise hell until she left the store.

Lily was not going to do that.

“Thanks anyway,” she said, taking the package back to return it to the shelf. “I’ll keep looking.”

The woman gave her a sympathetic nod.

Dejected, Lily threw the comforter back onto its pile and started down the aisle again. Damn Petunia and her ability to find everything on a perfect sale. The credit amount didn’t leave her any room, so she was never going to find something that could fit-

Oof.

When Lily turned away from the display, another person’s back blocked her. Brought up short, Lily narrowly avoided actually running into him. Her luck, she would be the person lost in her head enough to knock over someone in the bedding aisle of a department store.

“Sorry,” Lily said, putting her hand on a shelf to steady herself. “I guess I was a little distracted.”

When she looked up to see him properly, Lily could have been distracted for a whole new set of reasons. He had such richly colored eyes, more than a few inches on her height, and that kind of comfortable smile that hinted at self-assuredness.

She could already hear what Mary would say if she was here.

“Don’t worry about it,” the other person said, now turned to her. He grinned and lifted his hand to his hair, running his fingers through it. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Lily said quickly. “I’m having a minor shopping crisis, but it’s really nothing. My sister’s great for causing these kinds of things.”

Oh God, why was she rambling?

He chuckled. “Maybe I can take care of it. What kind of shopping crisis are we dealing with?”

Desperate times and nearly an hour looking at comforters called for desperate measures. If someone in this store had the time to help her, she wasn’t really in the position to be declining assistance. The poor woman at the counter had enough people to deal with on the day after Christmas without her bringing up another one that didn’t qualify for the sale.

Lily held out the plastic card with the store credit. “My sister gave me a few snarky comments and an ugly comforter for Christmas. I returned it, thank God, but they could only give me store credit.”

He nodded and waved for her to go on.

“Now I’m back here,” Lily continued, “trying to find something that will work and still fit in the amount she spent, since she’s apparently a sale whisperer. Or maybe the horrible stuff is the only kind on sale. I don’t know, but I think I might be stuck in some kind of neverending bedding loop. Really, I just want to get out of here and get an Auntie Anne’s pretzel.”

If only Mary was here to see her.

His grin widened, so she mustn’t have scared him too much. Maybe she was tame to deal with compared to the Christmas Eve shoppers.

“I can take care of that,” he said. “My mom’s a pro at finding a good sale, and she taught me well. What vibe are we going for?”

Lily played with the end of her braid while she tried to come up with an answer. “I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I thought something would speak to me, but clearly…” She gestured broadly. “It’s not happening.”

“I’m sure there’s something here.” When he gestured to the rest of the section, it made her look.

She saw the several rows of stacked bedding and staged bedrooms with those shortened beds stores always used. Lily was sure she already went through every aisle to check for something that would fit in her price range, but it was possible that she missed something.

She had to leave here with something, or the whole trip was a waste.

“Okay. Let’s do another round.”

Lily started another lap of the bedding section, this time with a partner. She steered clear of the tempting rack that already burned her once, since nothing on it was eligible for any kind of discounts. She also skipped over the shelves of throws, since using those for her comforter would definitely get a judgemental look from Petunia.

More than once, she had to resist the urge to fall onto one of the example beds and bury her head in the pillows. Maybe she should have stuck with the comforter Petunia picked. What was so wrong with her college bedding, anyway?

“What about this one?” he called from further down the aisle, pulling Lily out of her pessimistic thoughts. She tossed an uncomfortable looking throw pillow into a bin and looked to him and the possible option instead.

This one, which he unzipped the top of the package to reveal, was made of soft pastel squares patched together to look like a quilt. The colors went together well without being too loud. With a relieved sigh that was part laugh, Lily could picture it over the bed in her room.

“It’s perfect,” Lily said, starting toward him. “Does it qualify for the sale?”

“I think so,” he said, looking at it from several angles to find a tag. “I’ll find someone to ask.”

“Wait.” Lily stopped a few feet away from where he stood with her perfect, maybe ready to solve all of her problems quilt comforter. “You don’t work here?”

The grin was back. He shook his head, eyes holding a new amusement. “What made you think that I did?”

“Well, you -” Lily stopped and changed tack. “Then why are you helping me?”

He shrugged. “I said I’d take care of you. Did you think I wouldn’t follow through on that?”

Warmth spread across her cheeks and down to her toes without her permission. “I didn’t mean to pull you away from your shopping. I thought…”

“You didn’t pull me away from anything,” he said easily. He pushed the quilt back into the package and zipped it, turning to the register. “If this is it, you should get it.”

“I can take it. Really, I didn’t mean -”

“Don’t worry about it. I wanted to help,” he said, moving the quilt so it rested under one arm. He did it in time for her to miss her grab for the package. Instead, the attempt made her fingers brush over the sleeve of his sweater.

Lily withdrew her hands and let him carry the quilt toward the register counter. He put it down and stepped aside for her. The best course of action, she decided, was probably to avoid looking at him so he wouldn’t see the spots of color she was sure were on the tops of her cheeks. She offered the store credit to the cashier, vowing to buy this thing no matter how much it cost and be done with the whole affair.

The woman behind the counter scanned the tag and, Lily swore, smiled a little when the number came up on her screen. “This item is actually eligible for an additional discount. You have a little left on the store credit, if you wanted to find something else.”

“No,” Lily answered emphatically. “You can -”

A bright orange color caught her eye and made her reach to the display on the counter. She put the king sized Reese’s down and pushed it toward the woman on the other side.

“Actually, I’ll add this.”

The woman rang up her order and took a penny from the take one, leave one without prompting to cover the balance after redeeming her credit. She handed the bag over to a grateful Lily.

Turning, she was glad to see her helper still standing there. “This is for you,” Lily said, holding the bag in one hand and the Reese’s in the other, outstretched to him.

“You should keep it,” he answered, hands in his pockets. “My friend is always telling me that chocolate is good for stress, and that had to be a lot.”

“You should have it. I have to do something since you basically saved a stranger.”

“I’m James,” he answered, making her forehead crease in confusion. “James Potter. And you are…?”

“Lily Evans.” The answer was part reflex and part wanting to know where he was going with this.

“So, we aren’t strangers anymore. Keep the candy.”

Lily laughed and shook her head. “I have to do something for you, Potter.”

“I actually had something else in mind,” James admitted, hand once again in his hair. “Since that’s all handled, did you still want to go for that pretzel?”

Lily bit on her bottom lip to keep it from turning into a too big smile. “Sure. My treat.”

“No, Evans,” James said with a grin. “I’d like it to be a date.”

#marieka writes #hp #jily #james potter #lily evans #muggle au #meet cute

[honeytea8]

“Mister Fix-it” - Josuke/gn!Reader

A/N: Something I posted a while back on AO3 and now I’m dumping it here, I edited it to be gender neutral, pls let me know if I missed anything, enjoy!

Word Count: 2.7K

Summary: When your brand new air conditioning system doesn’t live up to the hype, you’re left with no other choice but to call Josuke Higashikata, the neighborhood handy-man and Morioh’s local heartthrob. (Post-canon; Josuke is 19/Reader is 23ish)

There is not a single ‘moderate’ thing about the summers in Morioh Cho and you come to this shocking discovery during your very first year back in this crazy, noisy town.

One early morning, a wave of heat sweeps in like a thief in the night, creeping over your body and making your nightshirt cling to you like second skin. A relentless force of nature that saps any residual moisture in the air. Everything is left high and dry—you lament over your dying succulent.

You can’t count how many cups of ice water you’ve guzzled or how many cold showers you’ve taken just to end up sweaty again, but something’s got to give. The day after Kai Harada announces the possibility of record-breaking temperatures in the following weeks, you delve into your emergency savings for a solution only money can buy.

Two days later, a portly electrician comes and installs a new air conditioning system for your home. He’s yammering on about how it’s supposed to be the best on the market. State of the art and all that jazz. You don’t really care for the details; you just want to be comfortable in your own house lest you end up a melted pile of goo. Who the hell would take care of your vegetable garden then?

You inspect the newly installed system with subdued interest. Truthfully, it doesn’t look like anything but an eyesore that’s completely thrown off the ambiance of the entire living room. It’s practically hanging out of your window. However, the only thing keeping you from complaining about its appearance is the dusty fan overhead that’s been circulating the same muggy, warm air for over an hour now. You prefer functionality over appearance, screw feng shui, you needed this AC.

“So, you’re positive it'll cool down the entire house?” you question one final time.

As if to prove his point, the electrician flicks a switch and the machine attached to the wall comes to life. The droning hum is annoying and would take some getting used to but it’s blowing the coldest air you’ve felt in a while. Both you and the electrician remain standing in front of it for a few seconds, basking in wonder.

Like magic, the heat-induced stress and tension leave your body all at once.

“Well then,” you say with a smile, “It’ll do.”

One week. Seven days. A hundred-and-sixty-eight hours of pure, absolute, uninterrupted bliss. You are in heaven! Your plants are flourishing as usual, and you aren’t sweating profusely like a pig for slaughter. Life is oh so good.

Until you wake up on the eighth day at four am with the worst case of cotton-mouth you’ve ever experienced.

You tumble out of bed, delirious from the sudden onslaught of heat that has transformed your bedroom into a sauna. Loose cotton sheets tangle with your ankles and you hit the ground, chin scuffing against the floor in your haste. The adrenaline pumping through your veins keeps you from wincing, or even feeling the pain. All you can hear is the sound of your own two feet pounding on the polished wooden staircase.

“Please, no, no, no, no—“

You sweep into the living room only to find the new air system is completely silent and no amount of switch-flicking or button-punching is going to change that. Mouth screwing into a scowl, you glare at the overpriced piece of junk with unbridled disdain.

This has become personal.

A hard smack from the palm of your hand to the surface of the machine echoes through the room—still nothing, not even a stirring. 

Big fat tears well up in your eyes. Whatever hormones fueling your rage are now flooding you with sadness. Your hand and chin are throbbing from the pain. The money spent on this crap was gone and now you’d have to shell out another hefty amount just to get it fixed. You want to pull out your hair in frustration.

Glancing around the room, everything is so still and calm. It’s still quite early in the morning, a few hours before dawn and you are tired as hell. The heat is making you lethargic, so after drying your tears and chewing on some ice cubes, you curl up on your sofa and go back to a fitful sleep.

.

.

.

Later in the day, you’re hanging clothes out on the line when your neighbor comes out to greet you.

She’s a grandma who lives alone except for when her grand kids come to visit, and despite her penchant for being a nosy gossip, you kind of like her. She waves and meanders over to the edge of her fence. 

“This is some heat, I tell you.”

“Right! I didn’t realize Morioh could even get this hot,” you pick up another sheet and toss it over the wire. “Would you believe that I spent two paychecks on an air conditioner that doesn’t even work.”

Your neighbor gives you a look of pity. “Oh dear, such a shame.” You watch as she adjusts the chairs and tables around her patio.

“You know, I have a teacher-friend with a son who has a knack for fixing things. Had him take a look at my plumbing a few weeks ago and he had it working right as rain. I can ask him to come by and take a look at it for you.”

You shuffle the empty bamboo basket in your arms. “I...guess that could work. Have him drop by sometime.” 

What’s the worst that could happen?

Two days later, you’re tending to your many plants—because you’d be damned if another died because of this heat—when a Greek god falls from the sky and onto your doorstep.

“Hi! I’m Josuke Higashikata, your neighbor said you had a problem with your air conditioner.”

To say you’re surprised would be an understatement: the young man standing on your porch is a damn stunner. His pouty lips, broad shoulders, and slim waist are more than enough to fuel a wet dream or two. Your brain short-circuits for a solid minute. Is it hot in here or what?

(And for once, you aren’t talking about the actual weather.)

He shifts nervously from one foot to another when you don’t immediately respond, but all you can do is stare. You’re thirsty for more than just a drink of water right now.

“Um,” he looks down at the sticky note in his hand and mumbles to himself. “This is the address, right?”

That snaps you out of your stupor. You internally berate yourself for looking like a gaping idiot in front of this knockout.

“YES! Ahem—yeah, y-you’re at the right place.” you move aside and allow him in. And good Lord, he’s tall. You wouldn't mind climbing that beanstalk.

Josuke is dressed in a striped yellow tee and pair of boardshorts that fit just right, a real sight for sore eyes.

You try not to swoon and realize rather belatedly that your own attire isn’t hiding much from view. Since the air conditioner stopped working, you reverted back to wearing tank tops and shorts around the house. Josuke, for what it's worth, isn't ogling you but he’s obviously noticed if his reddened cheeks are anything to go by.

“Right over here.” You say breezily.

The sway in your hips is subtle enough that it doesn’t look intentional. You guide him over to where the AC is sitting in the wall like a heap of scrap metal. Josuke didn’t bring any tools with him, so you’re skeptical about how he plans on fixing it. Honestly, even if he can't, you plan on making the most out of this.

You enter the kitchen adjacent to the living room, allowing him to take a look at the thing without you hovering.

As you’re straightening out the dining table, you ask, “So, how old are you, Josuke? You look a little young to be a handy-man.”

There’s a pause in his movements. “I just turned nineteen!”

Your fantasy dies a swift death somewhere deep within the dredges of your subconscious. Of course he’s young, as if you hadn’t noticed. Dialing back on the flirtation, you hum out an ‘oh cool’. The last thing you want to be is a cradle robber!

You aren’t that much older than him...but it still feels a bit wrong? You’ve never been with a younger guy before.

A startling hum resounds throughout the house and you feel a gust of cool air coming from overhead. Josuke has managed to fix it! You rush back into the room just in time to catch him stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“All done!”

“That—That was really quick? What was wrong with it?”

Josuke only shrugged. “Not sure, but it seems to be working now.”

You stare uncomprehendingly.

“So...was there anything else you’d like me to fix?”

Blinking you look around for something but come up short. “No, not unless you can bring plants back to life.”

Now it’s Josuke’s turn to blink as he takes a look around with wide eyes. He hadn’t noticed all the plants in the various corners of your home, he had been too distracted by—

“Which ones?” He says before he can stop himself.

You point to the succulent perched on the coffee table, it’s dried up and brittle in some parts, but it’s not completely dead. He kneels down to its height, touches some of its chubby petals. Then he silently calls on Crazy Diamond and with a single touch, it’s restored back to its normal health.

A few years post-Yoshikage Kira, Josuke has gotten a lot better with his powers, utilizing his stand with ease. He turns and gives you a smile and has no idea he’s giving you heart palpitations just by looking like that.

“Woah! Josuke, what the hell was that?”

“Ahh, it’s hard to explain. Just know it’s something I’ve been able to do since I was a kid.”

“Wow, th-that’s some trick,” you glance at your plant in shock. It’s literally back to normal. You recall all the time spent nurturing it, along with your other plants. All the sweat doled out during back-breaking gardening. How could you ever repay him for making sure your hard work didn’t go down the drain?

Before you know it, you have his face in your hands and you don’t know what the hell you're doing but you're holding him and staring tearfully.

“Thank you times a million. Seriously.”

Josuke just gulps and nods. “Uh huh, not a problem.”

You really try to ignore the way he’s staring at your lips or the heavy blush on his cheeks because, again, you are not robbing the cradle. With more self-control than you knew you had, you let go of his face and step back.

“S-So would you like some tea, or lemonade or—“

“Lemonade,” he says as he stands to his full height. “Lemonade is fine.”

You nod with your bottom lip trapped between your teeth. He is so cute. You scamper off into the kitchen and pull out a full pitcher of homemade lemonade. Meanwhile, Josuke is left to take a look around your house.

There are plants everywhere, most are leafy, green, and healthy. The ones that aren’t, get a boost from his stand power.

Josuke wants to compare your home to a jungle or the Amazon, but that’s not quite an accurate comparison. Even though there’s clearly a lot going on, it’s not cluttered or disorganized at all. It’s just...really freaking amazing! There’s even a flourishing terrarium built in the walls near the staircase.

With your obvious love for nature, Josuke thinks you’d get along great with Mr. Jotaro, but for some reason he doesn’t feel too inclined to introduce you two.

When you finally return, you catch Josuke eyeing your little turtle tank with a weird look.

“That’s Kame, I just got him a month ago.”

Josuke laughs, “Kame, huh? That’s pretty clever.”

“I thought so too,” you hand him the cold drink and as he takes it, his fingers graze yours. “He doesn’t do much, so if you’re expecting him to do a trick, you’ll be waiting a while.”

“Oh nah, it wasn’t that. I’m just…kind of afraid of the little guy.”

Biting back the urge to say ‘awww’, you usher him over to the engawa overlooking your vegetable garden. “A fear of turtles is understandable. But would you believe that I used to be afraid of fish?”

“Fish? No, I can’t say I would. But I also wouldn’t judge.”

You smile at that because of course, he wouldn’t judge you. “Yup, had a bad experience when I was five. My father used to live in Morioh, near the coast. He was a fisherman,” you pause, momentarily distracted by the bob of his adam’s apple as he takes his first sip.

“H-He umm, took me fishing once... and it was the first time I’d ever laid eyes on a real fish. Needless to say, I screamed my head off.”

“No! Seriously?” Josuke chuckles and it’s so contagious and addicting. Soon you're laughing too.

“I swear, I cannot make this up!”

“So, what happened?”

“Okay, so I’m screaming like a mad person and running away. You know what my dad does? That asshole chases me with the thing still dangling from his fishing rod.” You shake your head at the memory. “I literally got sick and threw up that night, and boy did my mom chew him out for it.”

“That sounds so hilarious and yet so traumatic.” He laughs again. “That’s terrible!”

“Right! I could never look at a fish after that or even be around them. It took years before I finally got over it.” You sigh and shake your head again.

Silence ebbs between you for a moment before Josuke clears his throat. 

“So, this might seem a bit forward, but would you like to go on a date with me?”

The question doesn’t register in your head all at once, leaving you to stumble over your words until you can finally think coherently. “Josuke I...I’m a bit older than you. Shouldn’t you go for someone more closer to your age?”

“No, and I’ve never believed age should stop two consenting adults from getting to know each other better.”

“Josuke, I’m old enough to be your big sibling though.”

He quirks his brow at that like you’ve just said something weird. “Well, Mr. Joestar, was like ancient when he met my mom so that really doesn’t bother me.”

For some reason, that comment breaks the tension. You barely hold back a grin. “This Mr. Joestar guy is your father then?”

“Biologically speaking, yeah. He’s pretty old now and I never really knew him, but my mom still loves him with everything she has.”

Okay. Now you are really having heart palpitations.

Josuke is exhibiting a surprising amount of maturity right now, making you eat your words about him being too young for you. Why did he have to be so convincing on top of being cute?

“Give me a chance,” he says. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

After mulling over it for a moment, you finally acquiesce.

“Alright, Josuke. One date, and we’ll see from there.” and just to catch him off guard, you peck his cheek. “Okay?”

“Y-Yeah! Of course, it’ll be perfect!”

Taking the empty lemonade glass from him, you both re-enter your home with smiles on your faces. Josuke stays a little longer and you both chat for a while then make plans for your date. You get to learn about how much of a hopeless romantic he is and how he’s a firm believer in love. He makes it very clear that he doesn’t want a fling and that he’s looking for long-term. All of these things surprise you, as they aren’t what you’d expect from someone as gorgeous as him.

By the time the sun is setting, you know it’s time for you two to part ways. Josuke stands at your foyer with pursed lips and a blush on his cheeks. “Can I...kiss you?”

To answer his question, you lean up and press a soft kiss on his mouth. Josuke’s strong arms snake around your hips, drawing you closer into his sturdy frame. His plush lips are gentle and pliant against your own. 

When Josuke finally pulls back he is presented with the sight of your closed eyes and kiss-reddened lips and it’s the most enthralling two seconds ever. He thinks you're so freaking beautiful.

“Alright handy-man,” you say as you give him one last peck on the corner of his mouth. “I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, sure thing!”

Ironically enough, you have this nightmare of a heatwave to thank for your date with Morioh Cho’s favorite dreamboat.

#josuke higashikata #josuke x reader #josuke higashikata x reader #jjba x reader #jojo’s bizarre adventure #diamond is unbreakable #jojo #jjba #my writing

[mkw-raider]

Lemon Cake

AO3

Marinette/Chloé pre-relationship christmas bonding

Christmas One Shot Two days before Christmas, Queen Bee noticed Paris was buzzing with energy.

Shops were beginning to close for the night, satisfied customers drifting out into the street as workers cleaned and got ready to go home. Cars were beginning to leave the streets, heading away from the shops and cafes, finally going home. A thin layer of snow had stuck to the ground, and as the night had gotten darker, more snow had begun to fall from the sky above.

Paris was never truly a silent city, but the snow was offering a thin blanket, making the night peaceful even as a group of teens ran yelling and laughing around a street corner, snowballs flying towards the duo in the lead. The group scattered couples and families walking in front of them, but no anger came about. The Holiday season had given the citizens kindness and patience missing from the rest of the year. There hadn’t even been an akuma in the past week, making patrol a very quiet affair. This was of course likely to change at any time, especially on Christmas Eve or Christmas itself, not everyone had a loving family to return to, but for now there was peace.

Eyes drifting from person to person, a hero watched the city of lights begin to glow illuminating the people they could see. A tall man pulling a small child and gift bags behind him in a sled. A mother, wrangling four kids as they tussle with the snow and each other. A young couple slowing every few feet to share a kiss.

If the citizens of Paris lifted their gaze from their phones or last minute presents towards the Eiffel Tower, they might be able to see a splash of yellow above the upper floor. Parisians with keen eyes might even be able to determine the splash of yellow to be the newest member of Team Miraculous, Queen Bee, wrapped in a yellow blanket.

A few hundred metres up, Queen Bee was observing the chilly winter evening in silence. Focusing on the citizens wandering between shops, she was people watching. Watching the citizens she helps protect buy the last of the food they would need for the coming Holiday dinners, the families rushing home to be together, seeing how many people had places to be.

Queen Bee didn’t have anywhere to be tonight. Technically, Chloé Bourgeois needed to be back in time for an early breakfast with her father. While Chloé had plans for the next few days, including a brief morning with her father, they would spend the rest of Christmas Eve appearing at events designed to give the Mayor good press and show how invested he was in the community. For now though, Chloé had no obligations, and until she needed to sleep, observing citizens from above is where she would stay.

The blanket she had wrapped herself in had slid down her shoulders, and as the next winter chill blew by, Chloé brought the warm blanket tighter around her body. She remembered when she had first gotten the blanket. Long after her first attempts at being a hero, but before she had been given a second chance, Chloé had realized she wasn’t the nicest person. No one had been willing to believe her, except for Adrien and, shockingly enough, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Chloé had apologized and done what she could, but it had been Marinette who had convinced people to give her a chance, and it had been Marinette who had included her in the class secret Santa, giving her the handmade blanket.

Though Chloé would admit it only to Adrien and Sabrina, the blanket had made its home on her bed for the entirety of the past year, only moving when Chloé was cold on her balcony, or moments like now, where she wasn’t on patrol but had picked a building high enough she could feel the chill through her suit.

Though the sun had set an hour ago, Chloé could still see families out together. She could see a father and son in a nearby park, using the few inches of snow that had stuck to toss snowballs at each other. From this distance she couldn’t hear anything, she was left to wonder what they were talking about. Maybe they were laughing together, enjoying the company of family, or maybe the father was complimenting the son’s throws, offering advice on where to improve, but still acknowledging his son’s accomplishments. Chloé didn’t think either of her parents had ever taken her to a park. She also couldn’t remember the last time she had gone somewhere with them with the intention to have fun together. As the son threw another snowball, hitting his father in the chest, she watched as the man ran to scoop up his child and throw him in the air. Come to think of it, Chloé couldn’t remember the last time her parents had ever seemed so happy with something she’d done.

A soft crunch behind her had Chloé jerking around while grabbing her trompo, only to see Ladybug standing across from her, two boxes in hand. “It isn’t your patrol tonight, Bee.”

Heart beginning to calm from her small scare, Chloé snorted, “You’re one to talk. It isn’t your patrol either.”

Ladybug came over to sit next to Chloé, and even though Ladybug had a hat and scarf to keep her warm, Chloé opened the blanket as a silent invitation. Setting the boxes on her other side, Ladybug took the blanket and slid closer to Chloé, wrapping the two of them in a little cocoon of warmth.

“A little fox might have told me she had seen a lonely bee up here, and I didn’t want you to be alone.”

Chloé doesn’t really know how to respond to that, so she doesn’t, instead saving that sentence to a little area in her brain for nice things Ladybug has said. She does things like that sometimes. Just says things that Chloé thinks about for weeks to come, like she was thinking of Queen Bee, or she missed her, or she didn’t want her to be alone. Before Chloé had officially joined the team, she had never known this side of Ladybug, only ever seeing the leader and strategist keeping everyone in line. Then everything shifted and Chloé learned that Ladybug cares so much about all of them, about Chat never really wanting to go home, and Rena and Carapace both having to rush off suddenly, Ladybug makes note of it all, the things that go unnoticed by others, and supports them. And then when Chloé least expects it, Ladybug will say something like she’s never meant anything more, and Chloé will think about that moment until it happens again.

She knows if she lets herself, she could spend hours just staring at Ladybug, tracing the line of her jaw, memorizing her lips, learning everything she can, so Chloé forces herself to find the father and son from before. They’ve migrated away from where Chloé had last left them, but they’re still playing together. The son is bringing armful after armful of snow to the father, who squats patiently and rolls snowball after snowball adding to the growing pile next to him. She wonders if this is something that happens often for the family.

Darting her eyes to check on Ladybug, Chloé freezes as their eyes meet for a moment, before Chloé jerks her attention back to the family to hide her blush from Ladybug.

“They’re a cute family, don’t you think?” Ladybug says before resting her head on Chloé’s shoulder.

Chloé thinks she nearly chokes as she manages to get her brain to focus, “Yeah, yup. Cute family.”

Willing herself to relax, Chloé tries not to jostle Ladybug, wanting her to be as comfortable as possible while they resume watching the park below.

What feels like an eternity later, but Chloé knows can really have only been ten minutes, Ladybug stretches herself off and away from Chloé’s shoulder, letting the blanket drop.

Smiling, Ladybug pushes herself into a squat, keeping her mostly on Chloé’s level as she says, “I’ve got to go. Have a good night and stay safe, Bee.” Ladybug moves forward and kisses Chloé’s cheek before pulling away quick enough that Chloé isn’t entirely sure it was real.

A mere moment later and Ladybug jumps off the tower, leaving Chloé alone with her thoughts again. Her cheek, and the side Ladybug had been pressed into, are warm. A reminder of their time together and the closeness Chloé had been allowed to experience.

Ladybug probably had the right idea, heading home. Chloé would follow and leave herself in a few more minutes she just wanted to breathe the air in a little longer. Enjoy the Christmas peace before her next few days became a media spectacle for her father’s Christmas plans.

A smile slid itself across her face as she thought of the feel of Ladybug’s lips against her cheek and she dropped her eyes back to the park. The father and son were still there, but they were both completely covered in snow now. A few remaining snowballs were being flung between them but their stockpile had dwindled and they seemed slower than they were earlier. As she watched, another man approached the pair, holding a bag and what looked to be three drinks. As the group came together, the two men shared a kiss, before the drinks were passed out and the family began to leave the park.

Chloé brought her legs up from where they had been dangling. Swinging them back onto the platform, she nearly knocked over both of the boxes Ladybug had been carrying earlier. There was a slightly smaller navy box on top of a yellow box, and Chloé could recognize the gold lettering signifying the navy box was from Tom and Sabine’s bakery. There was a note on top that simply said ‘Bee’ with Ladybug’s symbol scrawled in the corner. Chloé decided to open that one first.

Delicately lifting the lid, Chloé found a slice of lemon cake resting inside. There was a bamboo fork inside as well, which made Chloé smile. Marinette had been very vocally trying to convince her parents to make the switch from plastic to something more reusable, and she kept a stockpile on hand to fill orders for friends or people who requested it.

Chloé closed the lid and moved towards the other box. Wrapped in simple yellow paper, there was another note on the top, though this one had ‘Chloé’ written instead. Tearing through the paper, Chloé opened the plain box inside to reveal a soft looking yellow knit cap. There was another note inside, clearly written by Ladybug. On the note was just a few sentences, ‘I know you’ve been looking for a hat, so I took care of it. I hope you like it, because I know it’s going to look amazing on you.’

There had been a heart scrawled on the bottom of the note, that Chloé had blushed at as soon as she noticed. 

Packing her cake box, into the larger box, Chloé collected her things and slid the hat onto her head. Christmas wasn’t always the easiest season for her, but Ladybug and her friends had been supporting her through the last few Christmases, making everything just a little easier on her. Now she had a treat for later, something to keep her head warm, and thanks to Marinette’s gift earlier in the week, matching yellow gloves to warm her hands as well.

Smiling out towards her city, Chloé jumped from the Eiffel Tower, yelling “Merry Christmas, Paris!” as she fell.

#chloe bourgeois #marinette dupain cheng #chlonette #ladybee #mlb #miraculous ladybug #thanks for reading

[translations-by-aiimee]

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 11

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 11 - Reason

Are there really people in this world that, no matter who you ask, no one has any information about him?

The weather forecast says that today’s temperature will go above 30 degrees for the first time this season. At noon, the white and scorching sun reflected off of the marble floor tiles outside the main building of the school. Lin Yan and Yin Zhou were sitting on the stairs relatively speechless. They spent the past three hours of phone calling around to find the address of the small Daoist priest. Lin Yan stayed up all night. The lack of sleep for many days made the world confusing and blurred around him. His senses were all fuzzy. He buried his face in the palm of his hand and he rubbed his forehead. He raised his head and exhaled.

"I've asked everyone. I was on the same project team with him, in the same research program, in the same dormitory before, his friends. . . He seems to have no friends, and he doesn't seem to have any relatives nearby. How do we find him?" Yin Zhou put his phone down. He grabbed the balled-up piece of paper on the ground, spread it out and read it again: "He has no class this week, and they have all gone to prepare materials for the thesis topic. Do you want to go back to the small temple to ask?"

"Please, you didn't see what happened yesterday. It was like a News Years' celebration from hell. I'm afraid that if I go back, the monk will take the peach wood sword and smack me three times over." Lin Yan said weakly. "You check first, I'll watch from behind."

"Hey," Yin Zhou poked Lin Yan sneakily, and there was a small white flash on the edge of his glasses: "What did you do with the ghost in the end?"

Lin Yan curled his knees into a ball and replied reluctantly: "I've already told you eight hundred times. We watched the nightlife of Wudaokou for the rest of the night."

"Watched the nightlife? Were you drunk?" Yin Zhou drew close to Lin Yan. "So, are you enemies turned friends? Is the fighting done? Should I expect any relationship in the future now?"

"Please watch what you're saying. He's watching now." Lin Yan raised his head lazily, blinked his eyes vigorously, rubbed his temples vigorously to keep himself awake: "No kidding, he disappeared at dawn, but I could feel that he was still there. The strange thing was that he didn’t seem to understand what I was saying to him. The monk said that the ghost wouldn't remember being a human being. He was basically. . . just like an animal."

"You have to find A-Yan quickly. I'm afraid that something will happen to him." Lin Yan said: "And he must know more than we do."

Yin Zhou slapped his thigh vigorously: "I always hang out with the three-dimensional people and get dragged into messes like this."

"Hack into the files of the school's dormitory. Students are supposed to register their new address when they move out. Maybe there's a clue there."

At 2:30 in the afternoon, Lin Yan and Yin Zhou appeared in front of an old five-story house on Dadong Road.

This city had many similar-looking buildings. Land prices were soaring day by day. Developers couldn't afford to dismantle them. Residents had no money to move. Over time, older houses like this one had become ugly scars in the cluster of new buildings. The old-style design had poor lighting. Even in broad daylight, it was dark and damp. The grey paint on the wall had peeled away, exposing the brown-red brick wall underneath; the dusty bicycles and broken furniture had piled up in the alleyway, never cleaned. From time to time, a mouse would hop past, staring at the intruder's whereabouts vigilantly in the dark with its small eyes.

"Shouldn't this place be demolished?" Yin Zhou stared at the address on the note in disbelief, and then looked up at the old residential building that seemed to be crumbling: "If you live here, you won't be able to run away if there's an earthquake." Lin Yan felt a bit guilty. He had heard that the little Daoist had been in a bad family situation and had been relying on part-time work to subsidize his tuition, but he hadn't expected it to be this bad. He shouldn't have kept quiet when he was kicked out of the dorm. As a result, he could not live in a dormitory and pay 1,000 yuan a year, so he left to rent a house in a place with little money.

The two cautiously walked through the small alley. Lin Yan pulled away a spider web hanging above his head and asked Yin Zhou's back: "What's the number of A-Yan's house?"

"0023" Yin Zhou patted the dust off his jeans and looked up at the surrounding house numbers in confusion: "But this should be the bottom floor."

"The basement." Lin Yan said in a deep voice.

The old corridor was full of rubbish, and it was so dark that he could barely see the blue and gray stripes of the stand-up collar T-shirt on Yin Zhou in front of him. There was a damp and mouldy smell in the air. He didn't know why, but Lin Yan suddenly remembered this one thing he saw in a movie. In a ghost film called "The 4th Floor", the woman in white at the end of a creepy corridor tilted her neck, and her dark hair showed two dark eyes. Lin Yan shook her head vigorously, trying to get rid of the fantasy in his mind. He couldn't help but laugh at himself. He must be really sick because all he could think of were ghosts all the time.

Yin Zhou stopped and pointed to what Lin Yan had said before. He saw a simple door at the end of the corridor with the number 0023 slantingly engraved on the door. Just as Lin Yan was about to knock on the door, Yin Zhou cut him off and put his ear on the door.

"Someone's talking." Yin Zhou frowned and adjusted his glasses: "I can't hear what they're saying. . ." He raised his finger to his lips and made a silent gesture. Seeing Lin Yan hesitate to listen, Yin Zhou grabbed him. He yanked his collar forward harshly. The soundproofing of the old house wasn't very good. They could make out intermittent voices inside through the door panel, speaking slowly, and occasionally letting out a low laugh or two.

"There's A-Yan's voice. Does he have guests?" Lin Yan murmured and turned back. After thinking about it, he felt that listening through the wall wasn't ethical, so he pulled Yin Zhou back and muttered: "Don't listen. People will think we're trying to rob the place."

The door was suddenly pulled open. Yin Zhou lost his balance and tumbled forward a couple steps. He propped himself up on the door frame to stand firmly, and explained embarrassingly: "Hi, hi, hello, hello, I thought no one was coming."

There was no response, the doorway was pitch black, and the sound of the door panel swaying slightly echoed in the empty corridor, "Squeak--"

A slender hand was holding the door frame, and a pale face flashed in the darkness. Yin Zhou came face-to-face with him, widened his eyes and cried out, "Ghost!" Then he hurriedly backed into Lin Yan. Lin Yan hadn't expected it, and he didn't have time to see what happened. Whatever happened, they both retreated instinctively. Yin Zhou stepped all over his feet, and the two fell into a shameful ball on the ground.

A timid male voice rang from above his head: "Brother Lin Yan?"

The light turned on, and the person standing at the door was the little Daoist A-Yan.

When he entered the house, Yin Zhou couldn't help but anxiously mutter. He followed Lin Yan reluctantly and walked into a small spotless two-bedroom house with simple furnishings. A white candle was lit on the coffee table in front of the old sofa, the wax drops forming small bumps around the candle's edge on the tabletop. Lin Yan and Yin Zhou sat down and looked around curiously. This wasn't a place where they expected young people to live. There was a faint smell of traditional Chinese medicinal herbs in the air. A compass and a peach wood sword were placed on the old cabinet, and an aged portrait of a person hung on the wall. Yin Zhou asked Lin Yan who the old man in the portrait was. Lin Yan quickly motioned him to shut up, and whispered that this was Tao Hongjing, the founder of the Maoshan School of Daoism.

When he saw A-Yan's unique appearance at school, he always thought that it was all for show. Lin Yan didn't expect that he really had some connection with the Maoshan School, known for their effectiveness in exorcising ghosts. A-Yan was still wearing the weird blue robe as he walked in with two teacups. He leaned over to blow out the candles on the table and respectfully handed the teacups to Lin Yan and Yin Zhou. The ceramic cup had been a Buy 3 for 10 Yuan bargain at a roadside stall, but the tea was still fragrant and tasted pleasant.

"The green bamboo leaves from Mount E-Emei are a specialty of my hometown. Master gave it to me. If I ever feel homesick, I drink this."

Yin Zhou was stunned by A-Yan's dismissal of their meeting moments ago. He gulped and asked calmly: "Didn't you have guests over? Why didn't you turn on the lights? I was scared to death just now."

The little Daoist's expression suddenly changed. He whispered a 'no'. Yin Zhou raised his eyebrows and glanced at him. The little Daoist couldn't stand sitting under his stare. He turned around and took out a tray from the cabinet, placing it on the coffee table carefully. "I was only talking to them," A-Yan said. On the tray were some boxwood carvings of different figures and animals. The carvings were lifelike, their eyebrows, beards, and even the folds in their clothes were clearly visible. Lin Yan picked up one and studied it. He was stunned: "Isn't this your master?"

A-Yan lowered his head and replied: "Yes. It can be boring living by myself sometimes. I sculpt some small things to pass the time and tell them my thoughts. Talking to them makes me feel better." He pointed to the woodcarvings on the tray and said: "These are my parents, sister, and our family cat."

The wood carving was covered with a thick layer of grout, soaked in oil; it looked very well-used. Except for the monk set off to the side, the remaining sculptures made up a set; there was a boxwood table, an exquisite miniature chair and the smiling family of three with their ball-shaped cat. Lin Yan touched the cat's head and couldn't help but admire the work. He said: "These carvings are really good, they're very heartfelt. A-Yan, if you're homesick, don't forget to book tickets with me if you want to go back home for the Mid-Autumn Festival. The school will give us a group discount."

A-Yan froze: "No I won't. My parents passed away long ago. I want to work and send money to my sister to study."

Lin Yan hadn't meant to touch a soft spot when he commented. He put down the woodcarving and apologized. A-Yan didn't care: "It's okay, I-- I'm used to it. I don't have any friends. When I carve these and talk to them, it feels like they're still here."

"I'm your friend." Lin Yan comforted him: "Carve one for me when you get the chance. Your craftsmanship is really amazing."

"Okay, I'll show it to you once I finish it." The little Daoist smiled, his eyes sparkling: "By the way, you-- you guys were looking for me because of the ghost thing that followed you?"

Lin Yan nodded. He sat upright and took a deep breath. He sorted out the things that had happened since encountering ghosts and said, "I heard you say that ghost resentment is too powerful and there is no way to overcome it. I wanted to know if there is another way to send him away without dispersing his spirit. He almost choked to death three times." A-Yan frowned and shook his head, "That's not it. Al-- Although I can't see him in places with heavy yang energy, I can feel that he's very sad." After that, he pondered for a while: "He didn't mean to harm you."

"Evil ghosts have no human consciousness, and those who die suddenly have resentment. Only when they wander in between the worlds of the living and the dead and find something to kill can they calm their hostility. My master said that they are so powerful that they have to be eliminated. I have the ability to look into the eyes of a ghost and understand their emotions, so I can't always disperse their spirits. Think about it, a murdered ghost who has waited for hundreds of years in a dark and cold grave; what else can you feel except profound sympathy?"

"Loneliness. Unbearable loneliness." A-Yan stared at the wooden carvings on the plate, his eyes suddenly distant: "On July 15th, the gates to the ghost realm will be open. He wants to take you to his world. It's too unbearable to be alone." The last sentence was hushed, almost self-deprecating.

Lin Yan picked up the cat woodcarving and fiddled with it. To be honest, he did sympathize with the ghost. He even closed his eyes to try and imagine himself in the ghost's shoes. The closed, silent, unknown horror of death, a blackened skeleton in the faint light of a miner’s lamp sleeping quietly. First, he is hidden in the coffin, then under a layer encrustation, and then inside an airtight tomb room, with a heavy bluestone tomb door, layer upon layer locking the soul away to keep it from rising again. No matter how magnificent the mausoleum is, and how rare it was to be buried in one, what's the use of it? Only the sound of his heartbeat could be heard in the eternal darkness. No, there isn't even a heartbeat.

Death is the loneliest thing. A deadly but lonely ghost, after hundreds of years of silence, waiting for someone to finally sense its presence.

How tragic yet oddly optimistic.

#dig a grave to dig out a ghost #dig a grave to dig out a ghost translation #chinese novel #chinese bl #english translation #yaoi novel

[mommymooze]

Hey Dorte, Why the Long Face?

There is a mysterious illness affecting the animals in the stables. Marianne is beside herself with worry.

No real animals were harmed in the writing of this story. 

 Marianne always has dark circles under her eyes, however when Claude notices that the circles are much darker than usual and she is missing class, there must be something seriously wrong. The house leader searches all over the monastery and finally finds her in the stables. The weather is cold and she is bundled up in Dorte’s stall.

“What’s wrong? Why is Dorte lying on the ground?” Claude immediately notices that her very best horse friend is not looking too well.

“I don’t know Claude. He has been like this for days. I’m so worried for him!” She bursts into tears giving the large animal a hug around its neck.

The brunette checks around the stables, a few of the other horses aren’t looking too much better. He knows a lot about wyverns, but horses are pretty foreign to him. He heads directly to Byleth’s room.

“Knock knock. You in there teach? We have a problem!” Claude announces as he hears the Professor give permission to enter.

Profesors Byleth and Manuela are in the stables, checking on all horses and Pegasus.

“We have used healing spells before on horses, especially when they are injured in battles, but this is something I am not comfortable with.” Manuela ponders, tapping a finger on her lips.

“I wonder if my dad can shed some light.” Byleth offers.

Marianne whimpers every time Dorte twitches uncomfortably. She refuses to leave his side, so her fellow deer help build a nest for her and bring her something to eat and drink.

Lorenz is attending Gallicas, named after his mother’s favorite roses. His steed is also showing signs of illness and stress, however has not been lying down, Gallicas is breathing heavily, pacing in his stall and touching his midsection with his head.

“I have sent word to my father, he is going to send a horse cleric to help us. I do hope they make it in time.” The noble laments.

“Agreed.” Is heard from the next stall over as Ferdinand is brushing Cinnamon reassuringly. “These are not creatures nor beasts. They are our best friends and have been at our side through thick and thin. Extremely intelligent animals. Nobody listens better than your horse.”

“The Pegasus don’t seem to be nearly as affected as the horses.” Ingrid chimes in as she checks on Astra.

  A few hours pass before Jeralt and Leonie arrive at the stables. He looks over the horses as Leonie watches intently.

“I got nothing.” The Bladebreaker admits. “They look like they have stomachaches but being this listless and such is something I haven’t seen before.” Jeralt scratches his beard looking puzzled.

No amount of sweet treats such as apples or sugarcubes interest the huge equines. More and more of them begin to lay down and breathe heavily.

 The next morning a hail from the gatekeeper alerts everyone’s attention to the front gate. A huge Pegasus with iridescent pearl hair and feathers lands just outside the stables. A tall redheaded woman with a large black satchel dismounts the beautiful winged creature as she goes and scratches her flying mount under it’s almost glowing chin.

“Fantastic work Sparkles. Perfect flying!” She says encouragingly as she pats the gorgeous animal on its long neck. “Stay here. There are some sick friends inside, k?”

The Pegasus nods, tapping the ground with it’s sparkling silver hoof, pulling its wings close to its body.

 “What have we here?” Ruby announces her presence to the group of humans, horses and Pegasus.

“Thank the goddess!” Lorenz runs up to bow before her. “You are a vision in these dark times! Please help us. Our best friends are taken with a mysterious illness. We would be heartbroken should anything worse befall them.” Tears are falling from the man’s cheeks, just thinking of what could happen to his beloved Gallicas should this illness go on much longer.

Beautiful, empathetic Marianne bursts into tears, patting Dorte’s neck and clutching on to his mane as if she would fight off death trying to take her beloved best friend.

Ruby begins barking orders to anyone that is around. She requires four large buckets of water, two of them hot, but not boiling, every piece of hay and fodder removed from the stables and dumped into the courtyards.

The horse cleric kneels next to Dorte first, opening his mouth, feeling his teeth and gums, checking his tongue. Dorte quietly obeys. She quietly whispers to him the entire time. She checks his eyes, his ears, feeling his neck as she reaches down towards his belly. She places her ear on his chest, his stomach and his gut. Palpating his abdomen, pushing rather hard in some places, Dorte gives off a groan of sorts and she apologizes. Dorte patiently cooperates with her.

“I need a chart with the names of each patient, when did they eat last, urinate, defecate, how long they have been laying or showing any kinds of symptoms.” Ruby orders and the academy’s horsegirls scatter to get the information down.

Ruby exits the stables and literally bumps into Byleth. “You need to get me bottles of oil. Vegetable oil, any oils not made from meat that are liquid. I need a couple bowls and two large cookpots.”  Byleth makes an about face and runs to the kitchens.

The redhead goes straight for the fodder. At first she kicks the pile left and right, spreading the feed thin on the ground. She gets on her hands and knees and picks at a few of the dried grasses and weeds, gathering some into a pocket. She returns to her satchel, taking out multiple bamboo pieces, a funnel, several potions, rectangular pieces wrapped in wax covered cloth, multiple cloth bags full of something and a long handled wooden spoon. Taking each item one at a time she opens her long coat and places them in a specific pocket until her hands are free again.

Stepping into the stables just inside the door is a table with the four buckets of water. “Worktable, great! Going to need towels eventually.” She takes the cloth from the rectangular pieces, placing the soap next to the two warm buckets of water.

“First of all, no cross contamination. The person with the animal stays with that animal. If I say move, get away from the animal. Do as I say. No hesitation.” Ruby orders.  “Wash up when you come in, wash up when you leave. Don’t touch anyone else’s animals>”

Byleth returns with several students following with several different large containers full of oil and other requested items.

Ruby pours some leaves from each of three different bags into the cook pots. She instructs Byleth to fill them to a specific height with water, then heat them to as hot as her hand can stand in the water, not the cook’s hands. Bring them back with something clean to scoop out the liquid with, like a large bowl.

 The horse cleric heads over to Dorte who is obviously the sickest patient. Pouring oil into a bowl she takes out two pieces of bamboo, twisting them together to make a large tube. She first casts a relaxing and numbing spell on the huge beast. Dorte’s movements slow down as he rests his head on the ground closing his eyes. She oils the tube from the outside, then with Marianne’s help, gets the tube through the nostril into the horse’s throat. Ruby’s hand is on his throat, moving slowly and carefully until she can feel the horse swallow as the tube is at the proper position and it is into the stomach. She pulls the funnel from her pocket, putting it into the tube and Marianne pours the oil into the tube as Ruby listens to the animal’s gut. Finally she removes the tube and they lay Dorte’s head down. She casts another spell in the area of his stomach, then brings Marianne over to massage his gut. The healer then goes to the other end of the animal, not to give an enema, but to have some oil at the exit to assist Dorte in passing what is in his stomach and intestines.  

Ruby pours the bucket of cold water to rinse her arms, then washes her hands with the soap and warm water from the first bucket, rinsing them then washing again with the second bucket, rinsing them off again. She dries her arms and heads to the next animal. The standing animals are easier as they are not nearly as overcome with the sickness. Once the second animal is treated, she tells the owner to take them outside the gates for a long walk. Hopefully before they return the horse will hopefully have shaken things loose and let go of some manure and to inform her once they have returned.

Ruby turns back to Dorte. He has not passed anything. She needs to roll him over on his other side. She carefully guides Dimitri and Raphael to assist her with gently moving the huge horse. Marianne immediately starts her massaging on the other side of Dorte’s gut as Ruby listens to his internal organs. She reassuringly pats Marianne on the shoulder and smiles at the bluenette.

The horses having been treated, it is time to check on the Pegasus.  The winged beasts are extremely calm around Ruby as she looks after them one by one. She constantly whispers to the animals as she works with each of them. Scrubbing herself clean between each beast.

Preparing the water troughs for all of the creatures in the stables, she adds the special tea cooked in the kitchens pots to each of the animals drinking water The leaves are left in the water, digesting them will help calm the stomachs of the huge beasts. All of the horses except Dorte have been walked and have done well moving things through their systems. They are in their stalls and have been taking drinks of the tea water.  

Ruby lifts Marianne from the ground where she asleep, laying upon her best friend. She places the cleric on a soft bed of straw in an empty stall and covers her with one of several blankets brought for her.  

The horse cleric then returns her concentration on Dorte. She listens to his heart, then his gut. Speaking softly and reassuringly to the handsome horse, she casts a spell on his stomach area. She puts his bridle on him and encourages him to stand. He appears to have weakened his legs lying on them for so long, still he struggles and with much effort and encouragement he stands. The effort itself has broken a dam within him and manure is pouring out his backside. She washes him off and places him in an empty stall. Grabbing a wheel barrow she mucks out the stall, taking the mess outside. She listens again to Dorte’s gut and things sound like they are moving well through the animal now. His heart rate has slowed and his breathing is not as distressed.

Professor Byleth wakes with the sunrise and is surprised to see Sparkles is standing outside her door. She reaches out to the pearl white animal, it allows her to stroke its long neck and mane as it leads her to the stables. There she finds Ruby and Marianne sleeping and all of the horses alive and doing much better. She clears the muck in the wheelbarrow and all of the empty buckets and pots. Finally Ruby awakens after enough noise and immediately goes to check on all of the animals.

“Dorte is looking much better today. The other horses and Pegasus can go out and should be taken for exercise for at least an hour each. Dorte is still too weak for that much, but should be walked and given lots of water. I don’t want him eating much today and I have to educate everyone regarding some disturbing items in the food. I would like to gather anyone that cares for the animals here after breakfast.”

“Absolutely. Thank you so much for all of your help. I don’t know what we would have done without you.” Byleth says thankfully.

Marianne suddenly awakens, realizing she is not with Dorte. She runs over to him and hugs him around his neck, crying happy tears. “Dorte! You made it. You are so strong, so beautiful!”

Ruby pulls aside each animal caregiver, providing instructions for care and feeding until the animal is back at 100%.

 Every person in the monastery that has anything to do with the horses are called before Ruby. She shows them and passes around the items that were mixed in with the horses food.

She holds up a dried stem that looks like clover. “This is Alsike clover. The leaves and size of plant look very much like what we call red clover, which is sort of a reddish purple flower. White clover has white flowers and is much shorter growing. Red and White clover is fine for horses to eat with other food. The clover have a V like mark in their leaves of a lighter color. The Alsike clover has a pointed leaf like the red clover, the flower is more pink. But there is no lighter V on the leaf. Even when dry you can see the V on the leaf of the other two clover. There is enough of the Alsike clover in your feed to kill all of your animals. The Pegasus were affected to a lesser extent because they eat more grains.This feed is fine for cows, and sheep but horse feed cannot have this kind of clover. Whoever procures your animal feed must be aware of this. If you allow your horses to graze nearby, watch what they are eating. Horses don’t exactly know much difference about what is growing around them and will chomp on anything. Do not let them graze in buttercups, oleander and hemlock. The flowers should start blooming in the next month or so.

Clover is not the best feed for horses. Red clover tends to mold, it is the mold that will kill your friend. They can eat it as long as a lot of other grasses are in their food. My favorite grass is Timothy Hay.

Check your food storage frequently, turning over the looser fodder. Purification spells can be run by the clerics here to assist with keeping some molds in check.

Keep the stalls very clean. A concentration of most manure and it sitting for quite a while means maggots, flies and other nasty creatures to torment the horses, it also attracts mold.”

The students, knights, caretakers and Professors are all paying 100% attention to this lecture.

 “I must be getting back to my practice. Send a messenger should you need anything or have questions.” Ruby instructs Byleth.

The Professor nods. “Thank you so much. We sincerely appreciate your fast arrival. We could have lost so many animals to our mistakes.”

Ruby agrees. “Please make sure this is taken seriously, reinspect what the students have done. I hate to see animals come to harm.”

Byleth hands the horse cleric payment for the services. She takes the money and puts it in another one of her pockets.

“Follow me.” The redhead instructs. She leads Byleth to a barrel that is off to the side. In the bottom of the barrel is a pile of her Pegasus droppings. “Pegasus blessings your gardener would call them. Fill the barrel full of water when you have it by your greenhouse. Then let it sit for at least 2 hours. Stir it for a minute, then water your plants. Wait 5 days, fill the barrel 2/3 full. Water plants then 1/3 full. Sprinkle what remains in the barrel on the plants after 5 more days.”

Byleth smiles at this and thanks the redhead profusely.

Ruby calls Sparkles to her side. She checks her bags and makes everything secure. Suddenly Marianne bursts from the door of the stables and grabs the cleric into a huge hug.

“Dorte and I thank you from the bottom of our hearts.” Marianne gasps as she squeezes the redhead.

“Dorte is a beautiful friend. Feed them good hay, carrots and pumpkins. For treats apples, pears, grapes and the occasional oatmeal raisin cookie. With you taking care of them, I am sure they will enjoy a long beautiful life.” The cleric gives the blunette a hearty squeeze back.

With that the horsecleric mounts her sparkling steed and heads off into the sky, the wings seem to shimmer with all of the colors of the rainbow as Byleth watches her fly off into the distance.

 Bonus??? Bad horse jokes:

Why can’t horses dance? They have two left feet.

What’s the hardest thing about learning to ride a horse? The ground!

What did the horse say when it fell? I’ve fallen and I can’t giddyup!

What does it mean if you find a horseshoe? Some poor horse is walking around in his socks.

#fe3h #fire embelm three houses #feth #fe16 #marianne von edmund #Dorte the Horse #byleth eisner #lorenz hellman gloucester

[cascadena]

Rekindled - Ch 2

SUMMARY: Post-BotW. Zelink. Hyrule now turns to an exhausted Princess Zelda to pick up the fragments of the fallen kingdom. Link, who is still piecing together his own past and traumas from his own journey, realizes that he has to be the one to help Zelda back on her feet. Together, they travel the land to begin the rebuilding process, and uncover a new, mysterious threat along the way…

GENRE: Adventure, Romance, Hurt/Comfort

WORDS: 44K (12 Chapters)

STATUS: Complete

RATING: T for Teen | Contains Action/Violence, Blood, and (Of-Age) Alcoholic Beverage Consumption, Kissing Scenes.

Start at Chapter 1 here, or

[Read on FF.Net]  &  [Read on AO3]

...

CHAPTER 2 - The Princess Releases Her Knight

Zelda

Impa somehow caught onto my intention to leave before I even stepped down the stairs into the gathering room the next morning. “Where will you and Link be headed?” She asked before I greeted her. Paya sat beside her.

I froze in place. “How did you—?”

Impa laughed. “We saw you two talking outside in the moonlight last night, all romantically,” she said. Paya clasped her hands to her cheeks in embarrassment at her admission of spying on us and stepped out of the room.

“Oh, Impa! You watched us?” I sighed in exasperation. If one thing hadn’t changed, it was Impa’s keen senses of my feelings towards Link. A hundred years ago, she had claimed she knew I’d develop a crush on him even when I still despised him for holding the Master Sword. Ironically, her granddaughter, Paya, seemed to be exponentially more shy than Impa at the same age. 

“I was disappointed  I didn’t see a kiss, but maybe he hasn’t quite caught up with you yet,” Impa smirked, and I felt my face heat. “So… where are you two going?”

  “Hateno Village. I have been convinced to take a rest before starting my duties,” I said.

Impa hummed. “Hateno, huh? You might not be resting much if my sister gets wind you’re there…” She pointed to a small plate of scrambled eggs on the table and I sat down across from her. 

“We will only be there a short time. However, I have faith that the Sheikah can begin cleaning up the castle without my presence...” I said between bites of egg. My stomach immediately protested at the presence of food but I managed to keep it down, thankfully. At least Paya remembered to only prepare a small amount for me.

“I will see to it, Your Highness.” A hint of sorrow touched Impa’s smile. “I should have known better than to direct you back into the castle so soon. I’m sorry.”

I shook my head. “No need to apologize. It’s important to begin as quickly as possible but I…” I trailed off, unsure how to put my feelings into words. I’d always been shot down quickly by my father when voicing my opinion on the running of Hyrule in the past.

“You are lucky to have him looking out for your health,” Impa said quietly, referring to Link. “He has always looked out for you, even before the calamity.”

I nodded as I finished up the breakfast, and Paya stepped into the room. She held out something folded in her hands. ‘Your Highness, these are yours.”

I gasped. It was my old field research clothes. A hundred years ago, I had stopped at Impa’s home to change into my prayer dress before traveling to Mount Lunayru before the calamity. I couldn’t believe they were still intact, and Impa had kept them in perfect condition over all these years.

“I always had faith you would return victorious, and then want them back,” said Impa with a grin when I went to hug her.

I found Link outside the inn tending to his horse. He’d seemingly stuffed the saddlebags with as much produce from the shop as possible. His eyes looked tired—I hoped he hadn’t stayed up all night on guard. “Good morning,” I said. “Did you sleep?”

“Enough to ride. Are you ready to go, Your Highness?” He asked. I frowned, wondering if he had stayed up keeping an eye out for monsters all night. He tightened a belt on the horse to secure an impressive spear—one of his spoils from the castle, no doubt. “Epona can hold us both, though I’m willing to walk to give her a break every so often.”

I patted the nose of his horse as it turned its head to me. It was a slightly larger beast than his old horse. A pain shot through my core as I remembered that my beloved horse was most likely yet another casualty in the calamity. Link’s horse seemed to sense my change of heart because she nuzzled into my hand.

“I’m ready,” I confirmed.

After thanking Impa and Paya for their hospitality, we set out on the southern path. I had never ridden with Link on the same horse before. Before the calamity, we used to ride around on our horses together, exploring Hyrule between my training sessions—only after I had warmed up to him, of course. On those days in the wild, riding around with Link, I felt free from my burdens. 

It felt… familiar to be alongside him again. It was just the two of us, riding through the lush, quiet mountainside to the rhythm of Epona’s drumming hooves. We passed over the Kakariko Bridge and I watched sunlight dance on the water surface below. 

I wrapped my arms tightly around Link’s torso to steady myself as Epona trotted up a steeper hill, and I was a little surprised at his slenderness. Perhaps he’d lost a lot of weight during his slumber, or maybe his knight armor had always made him appear larger than he was in actuality. 

“You are quiet, Your Highness,” said Link.

Admittedly, I was still incredibly tired which lent to my abnormal quietness, however I was still taken aback with his comment. “I guess… I’m not yet used to the idea that you’re much more conversational now.” 

“I just seem to remember you speaking a lot in the memories I do have, Your Highness, even if it was a one-sided conversation.”

I scoffed. “What is that supposed to mean?” I couldn’t hide my giggle when I heard Link chuckling. That was a rare sound to hear… Or was it, now?

Initially, it horrified me to think about how his personality could change and he could grow to resent me after his restorative slumber. Robbie and Purah had explained, upon the shrine’s discovery and excavation, how the facility would deprive patients of their memory, and its restorative powers should be a last resort. I had no choice when he fell, and the spirit of his sword told me it would save his life. 

Yet, he still returned to me with a smile, and though he acted a little different around me now, I decided I did like this new, more relaxed Link.

I eyed the Master Sword, still on his shoulder, and I wondered if he should return it to the Lost Woods to slumber, now that the calamity was over. Its spirit hadn’t spoken to either of us, as far as I knew, since the calamity. Perhaps we would need to visit the Great Deku Tree soon.

I bumped lightly into Link’s shoulders when his horse stopped. I looked around in confusion as we had not yet reached Hateno Village. The damaged remains of the gate to Fort Hateno sprawled ahead, and a plain littered with Guardian corpses spread around us. 

I inhaled sharply. “Blatchery Plain,” I breathed. My chest felt heavy. “Can we stop at the wall? I would like to pay my respects.”

Hundreds of decaying Guardians, frozen in time, destroyed by the Hylian soldiers and my own awakened power, were spread across the field. I crossed my arms as I looked out at them from where we stood. The tall grass that fluttered in the wind revealed piles of rubble and small graves decorated with flowers from loved ones hidden around them every so often. The damaged wall of Fort Hateno was covered in moss and vines, unkept and left to the elements over years of abandonment.

This was the state of the once great Kingdom of Hyrule. Ruined.

...Because I only found the secret to unlocking my power too late.

I dropped to my knees and made no effort to stop the tears from flooding down my cheeks as I sobbed. Link stood beside me and held his sword to the ground. I had no idea how long I sat there and cried, looking over the battlefield, and letting the remorse wash over me.

Link stepped away behind the wall for a few minutes at one point. I paid him no mind, figuring he’d gone away to relieve himself or something. However, I was surprised when he returned with food in hand. Cooked food.

“Where did you—?” I gasped, wiping tears away when I saw the cooked bird leg he offered in front of my face. 

“There’s a cooking pot outside a cabin back behind the wall. Try to eat. You need to build up your strength,” he said. 

I nodded and dried my cheeks before accepting the meat. I bit into the flesh, surprised to find he’d seasoned it with some salt and spices. I had never seen Link cook in the castle when he was just a knight, so he must have learned in the wild.

He seated himself beside me and leaned back against the stone walls, gnawing on a bird leg of his own. I ate about half of mine until I felt my stomach twist and decided against eating further.I offered him the rest and he took it without protest.

Link stared down at the grass. His eyes glossed over. “This is where fell—where I failed you.”

“Link…” I whispered and rubbed new tears away from my eyes. “You protected me to the last moment. I could not have had a better Hero.”

Link exhaled and I saw him staring at one of the guardian corpses from afar—possibly even the exact one that had prompted me to unlock my power. I wondered what he was imagining in his head. “Your Highness, I will attempt to live up to the knight I once was to you…” 

I offered him a small smile. “Just please try not to jump in front of a laser for me and die again, if you can help it.”

He clicked his tongue. “If I have to do it again, I will,” he said. I blinked, feeling my face flush even though his sentiment should not have been a surprise to me at this point. 

We arrived at Hateno Village late in the day. I had fallen asleep against Link’s shoulders shortly after we passed under the Cliffs of Quince, and I only woke once I heard the high pitched giggle of a child as we trotted into the village. Link waved at a villager hunched in a field of bamboo that called out to greet him. I sat up in the saddle, attempting to look more presentable, but the villager paid no special mind to my presence. Two small children bolted by us, waving at us as they passed before continuing on. I waved back at them before Link directed his horse down another path. Another person sweeping the area outside her house greeted us briefly before continuing her work. 

I’d never experienced this feeling of… anonymity? No, normalcy, perhaps, before. No matter where I traveled in Hyrule as a child, the people always knew who I was. If not for my royal clothes, then because of my entourage of knights or accompaniment with the King. A hundred years later, with no formal entourage, none of these villagers knew my identity yet. In their eyes, I was probably just a guest of Link’s.

It was...strangely refreshing.  

We passed over a bridge that led to a cozy looking little cottage. Link stopped the horse in front of the door. “This is it,” he said before helping me down. As I stretched my legs out, he unlocked the door with an old key on his belt, and ushered me inside. “Welcome, Your Highness.”

I stepped inside as Link fetched his groceries from Epona’s saddlebags. It was a humble home in size, yet the lofty ceiling impressed me. On the walls in the dining area were various weapons and shields hung on simply crafted display racks—more of Link’s spoils. The kitchen occupied one side of the space. A small sofa looked towards the fireplace on the far side of the room. Stairs to the right led up to a lofted area. Link slipped through the door behind me and lit a lamp on the wall.

“This is lovely,” I said. I wasn’t sure what I expected from the house of Link, a bachelor knight of Hyrule, but it was certainly a lot nicer than what I imagined many of the knights had in the barracks. “Is this the same home your family once owned? Your father’s?”

Link froze mid-movement as he packed fruits away into the cold storage below the stairs. “I…. I’m not sure,” he said very quietly.

“Oh…” I realized I may have struck a weak point in Link’s memory. I remembered Link’s father, a knight of the royal guard for my father, originally hailing from this village before moving to Castle Town. I wondered… Did Link even remember his own family? 

My thoughts drifted to my own family. My mother, who passed away of sudden illness when I was seven, and then my father who cared so much for Hyrule and always pushed for me to train… Regret of leaving him under bad terms and never reconciling before he was killed by the calamity clawed at my soul. 

Link stepped over to me and the floorboards creaked under his steps. “I’ll start the fireplace,” he said, then he put a hand to his head. “Oh, I am such a bad host. I do have tea somewhere, I think, from Gerudo Town...”

His fretting flattered me, though I was just glad to be in a peaceful place away from the castle now. Link started up a fire in no time which warmed the house to a cozy temperature.The patter of rain on the roof above us signaled a shower had blanketed over the area. I sat at the table while he warmed a kettle and watched him as he gathered up ingredients to presumably cook later. I’d never seen him be so… domestic before. It amused me.

Once the kettle whistled, he poured us each a cup of tea. He handed me the ceramic cup. “Your Highness…” He said.

I took the cup. “Link, there is no need for such formality with me. In the past, we hardly used them with each other outside of the castle, and there is no Kingdom of Hyrule at the moment, anyways. Please, just call me Zelda,” I said.

He stared at me and raised an eyebrow. I wondered if I had somehow offended him as I wasn’t used to his new expressiveness. Finally, he spoke. “As you wish… Zelda,” he said. He grinned when he said my name, as if the word was sweet on his tongue.

I felt a hard beat in my chest that I hadn’t felt in… quite a long time. 

We sipped our tea quietly for a few minutes, listening to the rain hit the terracotta roof above. I was unsure what to speak about with Link. The horrors of fighting the Calamity were so fresh in our minds, I’m sure neither of us wished to discuss it. Link seemed content to lean back in his chair, and listen to the rain, as if the sound grounded him to the moment.

It wasn’t long before I once again felt the pull of exhaustion on my eyes and my head nodded. Link stepped up into the loft above for a few minutes. When he returned, he held out a hand for me. “If you would like to head to sleep, I just put new blankets on my bed. It’s all yours while you’re a guest here. I can take the sofa down here.”

I let out a nervous laugh. “I apologize. I know it is still early to retire for the night, I just…” 

“Nonsense, you haven’t slept for the last hundred years.” 

Link beckoned with his fingers and I accepted his hand. He led me up into the loft. It was small, only large enough for a small bookshelf, a desk, and a single-sized bed in the corner of the room. He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “It’s uh... not fancy, and probably not anything like your old bed at the castle but… I always found it comfortable enough on nights when I was able to sleep here.”

“It’ll be perfectly suitable, Link, thank you,” I said as I pulled back the quilt.

He nodded before going back to the stairs. “Sleep for as long as you need. Whenever you’re hungry, I’ll be glad to cook something for you. Good night, Zelda.”

I nodded in gratitude as he stepped down out of the loft. I wrapped myself in the comfortable blankets, and quickly fell asleep as exhaustion once again took its hold on me.

-

I must have slept through the evening and the entire night, because when I awoke again, early morning sunlight spilled into the window. I sat up, disoriented by the unfamiliar walls, and blinked a few times before I remembered I was in Link’s house. My stomach growled for the first time since I sealed Ganon.

The whoosh of a sword splitting the air outside caught my attention. I crawled to peer out the window by the bed and looked down below. Link was outside already, practicing his swings. I smiled as I watched him. One thing that hadn’t changed was his dedication to routine training. His style was different though: rougher than before. He raised the Master Sword in a slow arc around his head, until he faltered to the side. I tightened my lips in concern. It had to be the injury on his arm. I decided to go down to see him.

Sparkling drips of water fell from the eaves above as I emerged from the cottage. I looked across the bridge towards the village beyond. Children played as adults whistled, carrying goods on their shoulders. It was such a lovely, peaceful town, completely untouched by the calamity. 

I shifted my gaze back to Link, who hadn’t noticed me yet. The villagers had welcomed him here so warmly. Who wouldn’t want to live the rest of their life in peace here? 

I was the tie keeping him away from such a peaceful future. As long as he was with me, he would follow me into political situations, battles, or anything else that came with being involved with the Royal Family. It was not a passive lifestyle.

My heart ached for the suffering Link had gone through. His scars were only the tip of the pain he’d endured. I couldn’t force his duty upon him any longer, after his incredible service to Hyrule.

“Good morning, Zelda.” He’d finally noticed me. I stepped over to him as he wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. 

“Good morning, Link.”

“Did you sleep well?” he asked.

I nodded. “I do feel much better than yesterday.”

He sheathed his sword and placed his hands on his hips as he smiled at me. I had no idea where he picked up that stance after his restoration but it amused me. “I’m going to clean myself up inside, but how does breakfast sound?”

“Excellent. I do feel hungry now,” I said. When he moved towards me, I noticed dark circles under his eyes. “Didn’t you sleep at all last night?”

He hesitated. “Yes.” It was a short answer.

“...Link?”

“Yes, Zelda?” He said again, and stopped to turn to me.

I folded my hands as I considered how to put my words together. “Seeing this lovely little village, I wouldn’t be surprised if you wanted to stay here for the rest of your days to live peacefully. I… I want you to...not feel pressured to continue as my Appointed Knight now that our sacred mission is over. You have given Hyrule incredible service. I want it to be clear that you are released of your duty, if you wish.”

He stared at me, speechless, as an incredulous look appeared on his face. A songbird fluttered overhead and landed on the roof above us. Then, he laughed as if I had told an incredibly funny joke, holding a hand to his face. He stepped closer to me and placed his hand on my shoulder. “Princess, I’m not leaving you any time soon. Wherever you go, I will be by your side, for as long as you allow.”

I blinked, not expecting him to refuse my offer. “But…?”

He grinned. “If memory serves me right, you’re my friend… I can’t just leave you now when you still need so much help, especially after I went and died for you once already.” He patted my shoulder and then re-entered the house.

My eyes dropped to the ground and I laughed to myself as my cheeks warmed. How silly of me to think my friend would ever leave me alone. 

-

We decided to visit Purah’s lab after breakfast. Link had changed out of his dirtied champion tunic into a Hylian styled red tunic with leather braces and armor. When I complimented his new outfit, he beamed. I still wasn’t used to his new expanded range of expressions.

 We reached the center of town when Link told me to wait outside one of the shops for a minute because he wanted to surprise me with something. I’d taken the sheikah slate from him and was playing with its camera feature as I waited. Link soon re-emerged from the shop and handed me something. “What’s this?” I asked as I belted the slate and took it from him.

“It’s a hood. I have one too in the house. It’s good for traveling,” he said. I unfolded the hood. It had a pattern on it that resembled a flower. He rubbed the back of his head. “I thought you’d like that design better than the one I have, since you really like flowers—if I remember right.”

I smiled. It was a lovely gift, and the Goddesses knew I needed new clothes since mine probably all burned up in the castle. “Thank you, Link,” I said as I threw it over my shoulders. My long hair caught up in it a little bit but it still fit. I twirled around, feeling like a schoolgirl showing off her new outfit. “How do I look?”

Link smiled. “Great!”

We continued up the hill until we reached a curious looking building: the Hateno Ancient Tech lab. I frowned as I recalled the violent destruction of the Royal Ancient Tech lab. Thank the Goddesses that Robbie and Purah made it out alive and were able to migrate their work to safe locations...

Link was about to knock on the door when he turned to me. “Oh, I should probably tell you…”

Whatever he was about to say was cut off by the door flying open. “LINKY!!!” A child’s voice trilled. “I KNEW YOU WOULD DO IT!”

A small girl rushed into Link’s legs, embracing them tightly as she squealed. I tilted my head in confusion. The child had the signature hair of a Sheikah, and even wore their traditional clothing—though sized down considerably. But it was her red glasses and hair accessory that gave her identity away to me. I could never forget her signature style... but why was she—?

The child noticed me and gasped. “P-Princess Zelda!? You’ve come too?” She turned her head back to Link. “She looks so weak. Linky, aren’t you taking good care of her?”

Link’s cheeks reddened in embarrassment at her chiding. I was fairly certain I was not mistaken by the child’s identity now. “Purah? Is that… you?”

She grinned. “Yup, it’s me. I guess I have to explain it to you now. Come on in and let’s catch up! Click, snap!”

We entered the lab and I was introduced to Symin, Purah’s current assistant, before she sat us down at the table. She snatched the sheikah slate away and placed it on the Guidance Stone nearby, stating she had an update for it. As it loaded, she informed me about why she had reverted to a child-like form, and how she’d been continuing research over the last hundred years. I glanced around the lab and my eyes drifted to her shelves of books about ancient civilizations and sheikah technology: my past passion. She noticed my attention drifting to the shelves and laughed. “Princess, you’re welcome to come study here any time you’d like.”

When the slate’s update was complete, she handed it back to me. “I’ve created a feature where you can check the operational status of the Divine Beasts in real time, remotely. It should make studying their efficiency much easier.” 

“Thank you Purah, this will be incredibly helpful in managing them,” I said, tapping the screen to view the new functionality. Link poked his head over my shoulder in curiosity. All of the Divine Beasts were currently functioning at full capacity, though their most powerful lasers were still recharging from blasting Calamity Ganon a few days ago.

“Fascinating,” Link commented.

We chatted a little longer about our current plans and the Sheikah’s order to begin clearing out the castle. I instructed Purah and Symin to continue their research, as there was still much to learn about the ancient technology and how we could prevent it from being corrupted by malice again. We left the lab, and I continued to fiddle around with the slate.

“You’ve missed tinkering,” said Link as we walked through the village.

I nodded before I opened up the camera feature again and snapped a few pictures of some textiles on display outside the clothing shop. We passed beneath  a shrine looming on the cliff above, and I snapped a photo of it.

“I should show you the inside of one of those shrines sometime,” said Link.

I gasped. “You would take me?”

He nodded. “Only once you’ve recovered, of course, and as long as there aren’t any guardians inside.”

I smiled at him and felt more motivated than ever to regain my strength. I placed the Sheikah Slate at my hip once more. Only much later would I notice a cloaked figure peering at us from behind the shrine that I’d captured in the photograph.

#this is up on AO3 now!! yes I made an AO3 just to post this lol #botw zelink #zelink fic #zelink fanfic #botw fanfiction #zelink fanfiction #zelink fanfics #zelink botw #breath of the wild #legend of zelda #linkxzelda #LoZ #botw #My fanfics #fanfics

[commander-orca]

COTW fanfiction

CHAPTER 3: PINK RIBBON

The small bedroom was comfortable and welcoming. Its only window made penetrate through diaphanous curtains, a warm and soft light which diffused with lightness. Its bare walls and their clay consistency, dull and shapeless, could have brought austerity and coldness, but the light entered, warming the room. At its center sat a creaking old rocking chair that rocked by itself, supporting a stack of books and a wooden bed facing it. The furniture had been well chosen, so as to give off a rustic and simple atmosphere. Suoh had kept his word. A thin layer of sand had piled up on the clay which served as the covering on the ground. Anywhere else it would have sounded rude, but on Faleina, where sand seeped into every nook and cranny, the cleanliness was just fine. Either way, Orca didn't care. He would hate to be taken care of under these circumstances. The mere fact that he had received this morning a visit from a native making him bring his breakfast was enough to make him uncomfortable.

The man was sitting on the bed, awake a good hour ago. The bowl of herbs he'd received earlier, resting on his lap. Orca had never seen with his eyes these plants with the original forms but they seemed to him to be bamboo shoots. These plants were succulent and he was pleasantly surprised; they had the tenderness of fish and the sweetness of milk. Their taste was incomparable to anything he had tasted. This subtle scent of vanilla carried her away to an elsewhere sweeter and brighter than this world. He saw smiles for a moment and lush green meadows ... Orca wondered for a moment if the world of his dreams could have contained such good ones. If this world of flowers from parallel universes that he had dreamed of completing could have fomented such a beautiful creation. Then he shook his head. He had made his decision yesterday. He was giving up the idea of ​​going back in time. Nevertheless, he kept asking himself ... Did he make the right choice? If he was wrong once again about the legitimacy of the good plan to follow ... He was sure to collapse for good.

It was then that he was brooding over these dark thoughts that the door opened halfway and a young girl entered the room, discreet. Orca looked up, preparing to fire another local resident, but the sight he encountered petrified him in the spot. For a moment he couldn't breathe. He could only look at her and bathe in the halo of that blissful joy that she exhaled. His sister stood there in front of him in a pretty powder pink dress that lit up his face. A long white ribbon had been tied around her waist and she was smiling. She was smiling. His eyes brimming with light left Orca stunned and he remained silent, unable to make any sound since at that moment all words were flying away. This vision seemed to him to be an apparition. He would only have believed it achievable in his dreams, when he imagined his sister by his side, together, happy. But she was there, very close to him, her radiant expression aimed in his direction. It was everything he had ever wanted ...

"Did you sleep well big brother?" Lykos asked, his voice tender.

Orca found himself unable to recover, too busy looking at her that he was. After a moment of silence, he finally looked for an answer.

" Pretty good ".

And it was true. Apart from his prosthesis which had thrown his leg a few hours before dawn, his night had been comfortable.

"I'm so happy you came to live here!"

"It's temporary," Orca retorted coldly, unsettled by this unequivocal remark.

Lykos seemed to notice his confusion as she approached him and took his hands gently. What she had once taken for a form of bluntness was nothing but protection, against words that shook her. She understood better now.

"You don't need to decide right away," she patiently assured him, "Just let me show you why I stayed and why I would like you to stay too…"

His brother let himself sit up, a little hesitant but resigned to accompany him. After all, visiting the island would be useful if he wanted to save the Clay Whale as he had promised. And if he really integrated the war council, having a good knowledge of the place would be essential in the event of an attack and in order to plan possible evacuations. Carried away by his sister's hand, he followed her outside, blinking to get used to the sun that was already beating heavily on the island at this hour. Together, they crossed the sandy streets that meandered through a district of low, round houses identical to his. The still damp linen hung from the windows without panes and their colors gave an air of celebration to the new day however harmless which was announced for its inhabitants. Orca watched it all, confused by so many charms, but he kept returning his gaze to his sister, his eyes following the pale ribbon that swirled around her waist. As they made their short trot, the houses grew out of steam and unfolded green gardens and better ventilated cobblestone streets. Further north, the cries of young people and the towing of boats could be heard in the miniature harbor. As they cut through the orchard, a sour smell curled around them. Gathered around a tree, young people were picking large ripe fruits in baskets. One of them sported dark brown hair that had been tied into a ponytail.

"Could I see Itia?" Orca inquired, the sight of the children having suddenly reminded him of the young woman.

" Of course ! "

The man lost himself in thought, trying to guess if Itia was okay. He knew she was being looked after by the few caregivers on the ship. She was obviously in good hands and should be up and running quickly; the thought reassured him. Once put back, it would be perfectly in place here. Itia had seen her native land crumble and her loved ones and everyone else being slaughtered before her eyes. She had more in common with the locals here than anyone, there was no doubt that they would get along wonderfully and offer her a place among them. However, a doubt assailed his mind. During the negotiations on Karkarias, she had suffered non-minor injuries. And through his fault once again. Itia could have consequences for life ...

"Are you crying, big brother?"

 Orca halted and noticed that the tears had spilled onto her cheeks. He wiped his eyes slowly, his face disappearing into the long bangs of his hair. Lykos just smiled at him and started walking again." 

Do not worry. It was just a few scratches ”.

Did he dramatize things? He kept his eyes on the ground. Lykos was half hiding her amusement. Little by little she gave in to a heartfelt laugh.

"I have the impression of finding you little by little ..."

In the center of the island, the four majestic towers of the island crossed on the height and glittered with solar reflections. All the buildings were decorated with conches and other sybinic objects that sometimes emerged from the sea of ​​sand. Children in mismatched clothes were playing in the main square, having fun throwing a yellow pebble on the cobblestones. The pebble rebounded a few times before landing in a box that had been drawn on the ground. The winner heaped up a small mound of stones on his side, such seemed to be their game. Upstream from the square, stood a wall which separated the town center from a cove overlooking a rocky beach. Sitting on this wall, the Prince of the Kingdom of Amonlogia, watched the game with great interest. Nearby, three children were chatting on the steps of a staircase. Mechanical parts of all kinds littered the ground at their feet, and assembly plans formed a jumbled pile on their knees. The last child, sitting behind them paid little attention to them, busy scribbling in a pocket notebook.

“Chakuro! Her sister called, waving her arm briskly.

The boy's face lit up and, eagerly slipping his writings and his notebook into his large bottle apron, he rushed towards them.

"Are you showing your brother the Whale, Lykos?" He asked, his excitement piercing through her breathless voice.Lykos responded by nodding enthusiastically and Chakuro took her by the shoulders for a short moment, a mark of affection that Orca did not miss. He could see the warmth that emanated from her gaze when he looked at her, the attention he gave her and that particular tenderness. She seemed to be a truly precious person to him. Chakuro then turned to Orca, his hands pressed to his chest.

" And you sir ? What do you think of the Whale? "

Chakuro's mistrust was not easy to read. At first glance, he seemed quite warm and open to conversation. He was considerate, cared for his well-being, besides being unmistakably sincere, wishing the best for him. However, its posture did not deceive, indicated all of his dismay; his body, turned outwards, showed that he only wanted to find an excuse that would allow him to escape. Those arms he crossed over his chest were like armor protecting him from him. Orca understood such a reaction. How to blame him? After all, he was the murderer of his comrades ...And he was also in an awkward position to answer her. To neglect the charm of the island by responding too casually would be ungrateful of him. However, showing too much vehemence to praise the beauty of this country would be extremely inappropriate, given that he had sought from the beginning, only to reduce it to nothing.

"It's a beautiful place," Orca said at last, choosing his words carefully.

His words seemed to please the young boy as he smiled back at him.

“It makes me really happy that you like this place. You will see, you will get attached to it quickly. The Whale is so wonderful that even the Princes leave their palaces to come and live there! "

At her words, he nodded towards the wall, catching Rochalizo's attention. The latter greeted him in return, smiling, his hand in a peak on his forehead and looking indolent. Then, seeing Orca, his face closed and he glared at her.

"It is likely, indeed," Orca said, looking away from Chakuro.

The two young people who had remained behind came to meet them, having preferred to walk up to them. The first, named Nezu, donned a peach-colored beanie over his smooth skull and had small hazel eyes. The other, Roh, was a studious-looking weakling, red metal glasses resting on the root of his nose. They introduced themselves quickly and exchanged a few words with him and his sister. Orca expected to be left with the few commonplace expressions of politeness they exchanged. However, that was without counting on one of the boys who interrupted the conversation with a curious request.

"Excuse me sir, I wanted to ask you ... I noticed that you are limping ... It's because of that thing, isn't it?" He said, pointing at his prosthesis.

“Don't be rude, Nezu!” Lykos scolded him.

“It wasn't my goal, it was just a question!

-It's still inappropriate! "

The question caught Orca off guard, but he answered it anyway, assuming his most placid air. Such a small story was far from making him uncomfortable.

“Indeed, this prosthesis is new to me. I lost my leg in an accident and a friend was forced to amputate it for me with what little equipment he had. He was able to carve one for me emergency dummy, in a sandfish tusk. I'm not quite used to it yet ”.

Roh and Nezu hung on his lips throughout his explanations. Their eyes were shining, certainly imagining the new possibilities open to them and their view of technology. Orca could almost see inventions swarming their minds. It was clear that the two children would not deprive themselves from today, to try to extract information from him about the technical advances within the Empire. The Whale's gadgets and designs could seem both more primitive and accessible at the same time, as if, compared to his native land, time had stood still here. Obviously, only a few hundred people populated this island, resulting in fewer brains at work. But that was far from the case; a frozen country would not have continued to create and imagine all these curious technical objects that he had glimpsed on his arrival. Whale technology had simply taken another route.

"So ... you need some kind of cane!" Roh cried.

These children had an acute attraction for science, the slightest invention was enough to put them in a strong state of frenzy. Were they even aware, the man wondered, of the price these inventions in the Empire had cost. How many human lives had been required ... Science sometimes helped. But most of the time, it came for the benefit of Man.

“I had one. Unfortunately, I misplaced her… ”Orca lied, still smiling at them.

The idea flashed through both of their brains at the same time and exploded in their faces, waving their arms and legs. A moment later the children were feverish, trembling from the inventor's fever. They ran away, barely taking the time to take a last look over their shoulders.

"Don't worry M'sieur!" We will make you one again!

-Yeah, even it will be even more beautiful and more efficient! "

The three friends watched them run off, then Chakuro and Lykos turned to Orca, smiling happily. Orca didn't look at them. He felt an invisible pain pinch his heart and some sadness overwhelm him. So much free and disinterested kindness scared him. How could you be so generous to someone who had caused you so much trouble? Did the kindness of the inhabitants of the Whale therefore have no limits?

#kujira no kora wa sajou ni utau #kujira no kora #children of the whales #children of the whale #cotw #les enfants de la baleine #suoh #suou #ohni #chakuro #lykos #lycos #orca #kannavi #itia #kuchiba #masoh #rochalizo #cotw fanfiction #fanfiction

[funkymeihem-fiction]

SPECIAL DELIVERY: CHAPTER 7

Mei was pulled through the shadows of the rotted house, kicking her dirty heels into the floor and flailing with all her might in the desperate thrashing spasms of anything that was being dragged off into the dark. It mattered little. She was hauled along with barely an effort from her new captor, the pig-masked mountain of a man who wrenched her arm nearly out of its socket and ignored her cries as he grew tired of her struggling and simply lifted her up under one meaty arm as if she were a misbehaving sack of potatoes.

She caught glimpses of aged wooden hallways propped up with support beams, peeling wallpaper and carpets rotted and worn through, and pale squares on the wall where pictures might have once been hanging. But she had little time to look, as she busied herself with beating her fists uselessly against his massive belly, all the way up until she was being pitched through the air— tossed away with the same lack of care with which he’d carried her. She landed face-first into a couch, her top half buried into a mound of cushions, momentarily stunned with her glasses knocked off her face and her naked bottom on full display.

The bodyguard, Roadhog, paused for a moment behind her before she heard him grumble and there was the rustle of fabric. Still reeling, she didn’t even have the werewithal to be worried that it was the sound of his pants, intended for the nefarious purposes that Junkrat had promised to protect her from. But soon she recognized there was the rattle of silverware and the crash of a plate as Roadhog yanked a nearby tablecloth out from under his lunch, covering her with scratchy, stained blue and white gingham. She instinctively thrashed and kicked it away, coughing aloud as she pulled herself free from the pile of pillows and rolled to face him.

He was already reaching for her, a massive blurry hand with black nails and spiked knuckles, his shadow falling over her as she quailed and readied to try to defend herself. But when his fingers were just shy of touching her, she couldn’t help but flinch, clenching her eyes shut. Maybe if she scratched or bit or managed to get that horrible chain around his throat somehow before she…?

Nothing happened.

When she peeked one eye open, she saw him slowly reach right past her…to where her thrashing had upset the order of his cushions and keepsakes. He took hold of a large stuffed pachimari toy that she hadn’t noticed before, pulling it out where she had inadvertantly wedged it behind her until it was starting to go lopsided under her weight. With a disapproving rumble, he fluffed it twice before putting it back in its place on the back of the sofa, uttering a low growl.

“Be more careful.”

With that, he turned his back on her and went gallumphing across the room, leaving Mei dumbfounded as she pulled on her glasses and looked around her for the first time. The old farmhouse wasn’t nearly as delapidated inside as it was outside, and it looked like the old junker had actually put some effort into making the place semi-civilized. Everything was worn down and tired, but it was surprisingly clean and downright tidy if compared to Junkrat’s trailer. An old television sat against the wall, near the nook where the kitchen was stacked with dishes and pans, drying herbs hanging from nails in the wall. A breeze ruffled the curtains, and the charming old-fashioned floral print almost distracted her from all the bullet holes in the glass.

The couch he’d thrown her onto was old and held up by cinderblocks to try and stop the sagging in the middle. The cushions had been flattened by years of massive weight and were not the most comfortable, but he had amassed quite the collection of throw pillows and plush things and they softened her landing. And frankly, his pachimari collection was nothing short of impressive, as she realized she was surrounded by the round bodies and cheerful smiles of the little octo-monsters. How on earth did such a vicious man have so many pachimaris?

“You. Stay there,” the old junker said, vanishing down a hallway.

Mei sat there with her head spinning, though dimly aware that the end of her chain was coiled on the rug in front of her, completely unattached to anything. She was free, except that she wasn’t. He had told her to stay there, and she had the distinct feeling that disobeying that order and making a break for it would have been a very, very bad idea. She wrapped the tablecloth around herself and shrank down with her hands in her lap, trying to make herself even smaller and hopefully beneath notice.

For what seemed like a very long time, there was nothing but the creaking of the house and the occasional footsteps as he moved around the rooms. She remained nervous and over-alert, jumping at every moving shadow and trying to keep track of where he was going. But eventually he seemed to simply leave the house altogether, and she was left to stew in her own tension, though she remained in her seat on the couch where he’d put her, too afraid to do anything else.

Her gaze wandered around her surroundings, taking stock of anything that might be useful in the very real event of emergency. Unlike Junkrat’s place, his abode was more well-appointed (and lacking in live explosives) with a working sink that occasionally dripped onto the dishes beneath, a very ancient stove, a pressure cooker, a stack of bamboo steamer baskets, and a lovingly-kept teapot shaped like a smiling pig. Also unlike Junkrat and judging by the things she could see on his shelves, he seemed to be a man of more discerning cuisine— though that wouldn’t take much after she’d see how many dented cans of pork and beans were stored in the younger junker’s pantry.

Without the looming threat of Roadhog’s presence, she found herself studying other things as well; how many holes were in the walls, how many nails were sticking out of the boards on some of the windows, how many flies were buzzing around the sticky tape hanging from the rafters of the ceiling… She almost wished that she still had that television she’d tried to break apart, if only to distract her stressed mind. She’d lived through a veritable horror movie scene being dragged by a monster into the depths of an old and haunted house, only for the monster to cast her aside, and even the ghosts here found her beneath their notice.

At least Junkrat, annoying and mad though he could be, spoke to her like a person and tried to make her feel welcome in his own exceedingly strange way. And that was after rescuing her from a terrible fate she couldn’t even imagine, wresting her from the other junkers, risking his life by bringing her back to his home, and continually cheerful despite…despite how she’d acted towards him. Even if he couldn’t recall all of it, which somehow made it even worse.

If she lived through this encounter with the piggish mercenary, she’d try to apologize to Junkrat again. Properly. Hopefully with an apology that he could remember through all the radiation and addled memory.

A fly whined by her ear and she waved it away, pausing with her hand mid-swat before reaching for one of the stuffed things nearby. Pulling it out from amongst its fellows, she examined it with slowly raised brows. This pachimari was one familiar to her, with its round red lantern-like body and beady-eyed smile, ‘holding’ a stylized fan sewn onto its front. She knew it well, knew every stitch as she ran her thumb across the fabric. It was the exact same toy that had been sitting on her shelf in Antarctica, that was probably still sitting there alone in the bitter cold tomb of her old room. She’d dragged that particular toy around with her for years, one of her last gifts before she’d left for that ill-fated expedition. Now she was holding a toy that was supposed to be thousands upon thousands of miles away, alone in the cold, and she was…here…

Mei held it in both hands, with its absolutely happy and ignorant smile almost like Junkrat’s, the toy not seeming to notice her stricken expression as she stared down at it. Her brow knitted, tears starting to trickle down one cheek. She only dimly heard the heavy footsteps moving through the house again, setting the red lantern pachimari down on her lap and hurrying to scrub at her face with the back of her knuckles just as Roadhog meandered back into his living room, wiping grease off his fingers and onto a filthy rag. He paused when he heard her sniffle, masked gaze tilting from her teary face down to his lantern pachimari atop her thighs.

“Ghrrmmm...” He uttered a low noise that Mei could feel in her bones.

Sputtering, she quickly moved the stuffed toy back to its place, averting her eyes back down to the floor. The last thing she wanted to do was anger the man by handling his things. “Sorry! Sorry, please, I’m sorry. I thought I knew it? Lijiang festival, for the Lucheng launch?”

“2059. Limited edition,” he rumbled.

“The symbols on the fan mean ‘lucky moon’.”

“Mm?”

“I um, I used to have one. But I…lost it.”

“Mm.” He moved to his sink, and Mei heard the rush of water as he continued to wash the black stains from his hands, smearing bargain-bulk soap across his filthy palms before drying them on the farm animal printed towel by the counter. Snorting wetly within the confines of his mask, he began searching through boxes and crates without looking at her. “Hard to find.”

“Duì bù qǐ. I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb it.”

One thumb jabbed over his meaty shoulder. “Osaka 2074.”

“Pardon?” She asked, but didn’t receive an answer. At a loss, she looked down at the collection of toys and searched among them before she blinked and picked another one out of the chaos. This pachimari was a gradient brown, with a winking face, dribbled with darker sauce and a white squiggle. “Oh! 2074 collection! Oh wow, you have a takomari! They’re so rare.”

“Mm,” he said, and she thought she could detect just a hint of his noncommital grunt being on the verge of pleased.

“But those were only released for that limited edition in Japan, with that takoyaki and pachinko promotion. How did you find it?” She blinked, then quailed again, quickly setting down again. “Um, sorry, I mean, sir.”

“Decided I wanted it,” Roadhog answered, not seeming to take notice of her apology. “Went out and got it. Late lunch.”

“L-lunch?”

“Lunch. Table.” He gestured to the cobbled-together table behind him. “Sit down. Getting late, told him I’d feed you.”

“Told him? Um, you mean Junkrat?” She blinked owlishly before adjusting the tablecloth around her, shuffling forward until her dirty feet touched the dirtier floors. Padding across the living area, her chain dragged behind her as she took a seat at the table as instructed, on a chair that was clearly meant for someone taller— probably for Junkrat himself, if the soot stains were any indication. “Where did he go? Why…am I here?”

“Surprise,” Roadhog said without interest. “Time to eat. He said you’re vegetarian.”

“I am? I mean, I am. If it’s not too much trouble? Um, if that is too much trouble? I mean, I know things are hard here, and Junkrat said—” She jumped as there was a loud clatter, with the old mercenary throwing his collection of steamer baskets onto the table in front of her, followed by the squeal of refrigerator hinges and more thuds as a wilted cabbage and a selection of sub-par vegetables was tossed in front of her. Another thud heralded the weight of a frost-covered bag that narrowly missed her head and landed near her arm. Adjusting her glasses, she twisted it about to inspect the label. “Erm. What is th— Frozen dumplings?”

“You know how to steam them or not?”

“No, no I do! It’s just, um…” She cleared her throat nervously, but decided to throw out the option anyway. “I know how to make real ones? I-if you have ingredients for dough? Real baozi aren’t hard to—”

That made him pause mid-clatter, and she shrank down again as the huge swine-masked mercenary turned fully to face her, more menacing than ever. Had she offended him? Maybe he was very protective of that particular brand of frozen cuisine? Maybe he took it as a challenge to his authority? Maybe she had just officially signed her own death warrant? Maybe he would—

Roadhog shrugged. “Yeah. All right.”

Next thing Mei knew, she was surrounded by a mess of flour and yeast and baking powders, with the tablecloth wrapped around her as a crude skirt, and balls of dough portioned out across the entire table. Mounds of chopped vegetables lay at her disposal, and Roadhog was sitting across from her, watching her through those foggy lenses. Once more she flattened out the dough, arranged the fillings, and then wet her fingers and began to pull and pinch at the edges, folding them circular at the top.

“It’s okay! You’re doing really well!” she said cheerfully, turning the dumpling to show him her technique for pinching it shut. “See, you just have to make sure it all comes together here. And the other ones will still be edible, just a little messier is all. Okay, now you try?”

The masked man grumbled ruefully, then lifted his latest attempt at the bao, huge black-nailed fingers coming together with surprising delicacy, pinching as carefully as he could to try and mimic her actions. Unlike his first attempts, this one didn’t spill out or come apart. The much smaller girl across from smiled and encouraged and showed him what to do, and this time he turned it correctly and pinched the last bits of dough together…and held it up in one gigantic palm triumphantly, lifting it up to the light of the sputtering bulb hanging above the table.

Mei clapped both hands together. “Yay! I knew you’d get it in a few more tries, see! Why don’t you try it a few more times, and I’ll start getting the other vegetables ready and put the first round into the trays? Also, I’m vegetarian, but do you have anything with meat? I was thinking…Maybe we could make some special ones for Junkrat?”

Hog paused and seemed to stare at her again, very carefully. After a moment, he nodded. “Fish. Got fish in.”

“I’ll make some fried fish ones, then! If that’s okay? Would he like that?”

Roadhog grunted his approval, and leaned over the table to begin work on his newest bao. Mei exhaled a little, chain rattling after her as she swung her legs down and off the chair to the prep area at the counter. The old junker had been, and remained, a man of very few words. Any attempts to make real conversation with him had been mildly rebuffed or ignored altogether, but once she was more sure that he wasn’t outright going to kill her and spread her pieces across the Australian deserts, she had been able to relax at least a little bit. And he had been ‘enthusiastic’ about their shared interests in Asian cuisine and pachimari collections. He’d even said a few words about his favorites and had asked her about which were hers…Which had apparently gained his trust enough that he allowed her access to the rest of his home, and the sharp kitchen utensils within. But beyond that? Nothing.

“S-so?” she ventured another attempt at a question. “Did Junkrat tell you anything? About maybe a plan?”

“Mm.”

“He…did talk to you, right? About us leaving for Sydney when it’s safe? He said you’re his bodyguard, so you would be coming?”

“Mm.”

“He mentioned something about a Big Boss. Is he dangerous?”

“Mm.”

Unlike Junkrat, who talked enough for ten people, Roadhog was so eerily quiet that she felt pressure to keep the one-sided conversation going. Junkrat had also forbid her from anything other than spoons on the possibility of attacking him, but Mei had the distinct feeling that even the butcher knife she wielded now would have done little except make Hog angry. She thought it best to keep appealing to these tiny slivers of his better nature as she began chopping up the remainder of the fish, tossing it with breading and transferring it to Roadhog’s cookpan, which was so heavy that she needed both arms to lift it. At least it kept her busy while she basically talked to herself.

“I…I noticed that you still are missing some of the Chinese pachimari variations from your collection? Maybe once you and Junkrat help me, and I’m safe again, I could help translate the sales sites and get some of them for you? Um, as a thank you?”

“Mm,” Roadhog said, rounding out another dumpling.

“Or, I could send you new books or ingredients for cooking? I’ll buy you a whole dim sum feast set and show you how to make all kinds of things. Would you like that?”

“Mm.”

“Money, maybe? I know that you both want the reward. I don’t really have a lot of money, but…I could pay you both a sort of bonus? You and Junkrat wanted money out of this? I thought?”

“Mm.”

Her tone grew more desperate, her chopping more rapid. “Please, Mr. Roadhog? I know that maybe things are a little chaotic out here and I know that I’m new to how junkers are, and I still don’t really know why there’s a mine field around your house, or what happened back when I was taken, or what you plan to do with me? And please understand what it’s like for me, too? Waking up with this terrible chain, and not knowing where I am, or learning about that awful Boss and…and the things they had planned for me. And you two are still…going to help me, right? Junkrat didn’t just leave me here, did he? And—”

“Mm.”

Her knife came down upon a stunted carrot just as there was a series of bangs on the front door. Her gaze shot up, fingers clenching around the handle. Even Roadhog slowly looked up from where he had been mid-pinch on his newest dumpling. Far up above them, a fly buzzed its last dying breath against the yellow sticky paper where it had been struggling through the passing hours.

Roadhog got up and left the room without a word, and Mei suddenly felt even more tense and nervous than she had been with him present all this time. A heavy feeling began to weigh down her lungs in her ribcage, and she realized she was forgetting to breathe, listening for whatever might have been happening out front. She only exhaled again when she heard a familiar, shrill, and surprisingly welcome voice.

“Oi, Mei! You in there, darl? I’m back!”

*****

The door creaked opened.

“Where is she, Hog? You didn’t cook and eat her, did you? Somethin’ smells good is all. Heh! Just a joke, that’s morbid humor right there. But no, you didn’t, did you?” Rat prodded his face nose-first through the entry, sniffing noisily. But when he tried to squeeze through, he found the door shutting right on his bony ribcage. “Owowowoooow! Fuck! Gettoff!”

“The stuff,” Hog said, and held out a hand that was, for some reason, covered in white powder instead of black oil.

“I told you I’d get the biscuits, and I got ‘em! Three boxes, not a crumb less. Where’s the trust, Roadie? Honestly.” He fumbled for his packages, holding them up and rattling them side to side. “Here, take ‘em! Now what’d you do with my girl?”

Hog took the bundle of cookies and pastries, inspecting their weight before he nodded vaguely over one wide shoulder and eased off the door the rest of the way. Rat coughed and staggered through, pegleg clacking as he went tromping through the halls at a rapid pace, holding up the other wrapped parcel like the beacon of victory that it was. “Mei! Told ya, I got the rest of the surprise!”

“Junkrat! I’m in here!”

His heart tried to leap out of his throat to reach her, fluttering up in his chest as he limped into Hog’s large main room. What a bell of a voice she had, and she actually sounded happy to see him? Bit of a first, that, but a definite improvement. And when he finally rounded the main bend and caught the rather odd sight of her in her ‘sports jersey and tablecloth kilt’ ensemble, he thought he even saw a fair amount of relief in her watering eyes.

“Aw, what’s wrong l’il bird? The big lug didn’t do nothing to you, did he? Aw hell, I should’ve laid out more ground rules. Hog’s a canny one, he’s always trying to weasel around the rules. Swear it, I can’t let him out of my sight for even a moment. So what’d he do now? He better not have touched a hair on ya! Roadie! ROOAAAADIE, I TOLD YA NOT T—”

“No! No, I’m fine! I was…We were just…Would you like something to eat?” She gestured to the table, and for the first time he noticed the apparent flour bomb that had gone off. White powder scattered the surface, and an entire stack of round bread bao had been piled up on one side, surrounded by the remains of veggies and colored bits. Mei smiled sheepishly, and he saw the way her cheeks dimpled when she did. Again, she motioned to the stacks of food. “Do you like baozi? I guess we have a lot of it?”

He stared at the piles of dumplings that they had made in his absence. “You two…You two been getting along then?”

She looked nervous. “W-with Mr. Roadhog? No! No, e-everything was…fine?”

“Fine? Like, you two were fine?” Something rankled in him, and his heart gurgled back down his throat and protected itself in his ribs again. Why did she sound so nervous? He’d been hoping for them to get along, but not THAT getting along getting along. Was she nervous because he wasn’t supposed to be back so soon? Or at all? She wasn’t supposed to be getting designs on his best mate. Especially a big prized pig like Hog. How was he supposed to compare to that?

She squinted, seeming confused at his sudden trepidation. “Um. Is everything okay? Where have you been?”

“Oh uh…ya know. Just pickin’ some things up. Nothing special,” he said, and rubbed at his remaining arm, trying to ignore the jealousy and bile building up in his guts. “Pfft. I just went into town, on some errands. So uh…you two were havin’ fun then? While I was gone? What you been up to, then? ‘Making’ ‘dumplings’?”

“W-what?” She looked unsure. “We were just making dumplings. I thought…maybe you’d like some when you got back? I know you like meat so, I fried some fish and made special baozi for you? Um, Junkrat? Are you okay?”

“Huh? I mean, yeah! Sure!” It was just the radiation and dust in his brain again, making him all paranoid-like before. And here he’d been ready to j’accuse poor Mei of deliberate porkery with his standover man, when she’d been making a meal all special just for him. “Whoops! No, no, nothing like all that. S’just the heat is all, long walk to Junkertown and back. Uh! Right, for the surprise! Uh! Surprise!” He shoved the parcel at her, and he didn’t really blame her for wincing. But after a moment she very carefully took it from his outstretched hands.

Paper rattled, and she delicately untied and untaped where he would have simply ripped everything to shreds. But she painstakingly did apart the whole bundle before it unfolded in her hands, and he was heartened again to see how her eyes widened and her lips tilted up when she saw the pin and dress he’d found especially for her. She took them out, running her hands along the little jewel in the hair-stick thingy, and unfurled the blue fabric that suited her a little more than the stained tablecloth she was wearing.

“Oh!” she said. “Xiè xiè! It’ll be so nice to actually have something to wear. Thank you so much. Can I put them on?”

“Sure!” he said eagerly, still just staring right at her.

She stared back at him, suddenly awkward again, before clearing her throat. “Um…is there a bathroom? Where…I can put them on?”

“Riiiight! Right! Uh, just through there. Toilet don’t work, no water. The big bathtub neither. But there’s a little wash n’ glug in the silver tub there you can use for a whore bath.” He beamed, then blinked at yet another strange look she was giving him. “Wait. No no no! Not like that! You know! Give yourself a sponge-down; pits, tits, and naughty bits! Then come on out and do a twirl for us, love, bet you look sweet as in blue.”

“O-okay? Thank you again. For the dress. And for coming back.” She smiled at him. Actually smiled at him, with dimples and everything. She gathered up her pretty new dress and went scampering out into the hall before he could answer, just missing the big stupid grin that overtook his face yet again.

She was glad he was back? Well that was refreshing, having somebody happy to see him. Somebody who wasn’t old Roadie, who was now lumbering back into the big den with biscuit crumbs caught in his chest hairs. Junkrat gave him a shit-eating smirk, flopping down onto the sofa with both arms behind his head, bony chest puffed. “Didja hear that, ya big lug? We’ve come a long way. See? Just got to treat her proper lady-like, no more snapping and snarling or dead-on nut shots like before. Just needed some compression.”

“Compassion,” Roadhog said.

“Yeah! How was she? Didn’t chatter her head off, did you? Keep telling you, mate, she needs a softer touch, gotta be all gentleman-like. She isn’t wetting herself at the sight of you anymore, that’s progress. And fuck knows you weren’t keen on me bringing her here in the first place. I knew she was a keeper, I just knew it. How you feeling now? Told you, she’s not a bad girl at all.”

“…Hmm.”

Junkrat lofted a brow. “Huh, really? Didn’t expect you to take a shine to her so quickly. She’s just got those big brown eyes that make you go gooey in the center, doesn’t she? I knew she’d wear a big softie like you down eventually, you old fossil. Haven’t seen you this enthused about a new pal in a long time. This is all going just according to plan!”

“…Hmm.”

“It’s not a skite! Don’t get shitty, Roadie, I told you from the beginning she was a find. Got a real nose for this sort of thing. Happy accident or romantic destiny, she’ll be begging to stay by week’s end, swear it.”

“…Hmm.”

“What is that s’posed to mean?! Of course the reward money’s important! But she…But she…”

Rat’s hackles spiked, pointed teeth starting to bare as he faced down his bodyguard. But there was a timid cough from the hallway, and he soothed his flaring temper just before Mei entered the den once more. She was just like a vision, dressed in flower-printed blue that swirled around those nice wide hips, little top straps that she sheepishly adjusted to try and support her chest, and her hair all done up in a bun with that shiny little pin thingy…She looked a lot more comfortable now, dressed in the fancy lady things she was accustomed to. He’d have to get her more of them, then.

She swished her skirts from side to side, smoothing out the fabric. “Oh it’s so nice to have real clothes again, thank you! That shirt really wasn’t big enough for me, and it was always um, riding up?”

“Yeah it was,” he sighed dreamily, not noticing the way she wrinkled her nose at him. “Pretty as a picture, aren’t you. Sweet as. Told you I’d do my best to get you comfy-like. Hope Hoggie made you comfy-like too? Although uh…Guess it is a bit later than I thought I was gonna be. Probably best we be on our way. Don’t wanna bother him any more, c’mon!”

“But what about the dinner?” She said, and Rat nearly choked when she strode forward and tugged at Roadhog’s arm: just went walking forward and prodded the pig like she didn’t have no good sense in her doctor head. But there she was, gently pulling at the huge spiked gauntlet he wore until he grunted and slowly looked down at her. “We still need to let them steam a little longer, right Mr. Roadhog?”

Rat winced at her sudden boldness, stepping forward to put himself between them just in case. “But—”

“Hmmmgh…” Roadhog huffed aloud, filters grinding, before bringing one sausage-thick finger forward to prod Rat so hard in the chest that he was nearly sent sprawling. With a grumble, he offered Mei the barest little upnod before turning and lumbering back towards the table, spreading out the cloth that she’d been wearing as her dress before. “Stay. For dinner. Her too.”

Rat’s features lit up, arms slithering around her shoulders. This time, she didn’t wince or flinch away, even when he hugged her a little too over-enthusiastically and shook her back and forth before releasing her. “Pig approval! I knew you’d win him over, darl!”

She sputtered, smoothing down her dress. “Well I…I just wanted to be polite. And after everything? We’re in this together, right?” She moved back to the kitchen, opening steamer baskets and pouring sauces, the chain around her ankle rattling with every movement. “Here, sit down. I know you walked a long way today.”

Rat eyed her shackles thoughtfully as he took a seat at the table, twirling a fork between his metal fingers. “Yeah, love. We’re in it together, true-blue. Can discuss that later, I think… Oi! Is that fried fish near ready! So hungry I could eat a horse! …Actually, Mei! Can ya make horse dumplings?!”

***

The solitary farm compound grew dark, save for the main building in the distance, lit up yellow in the windows. Dry desert air sent particles of irradiated sand skittering across the ground, obscuring footprints and making false paths through the lines of defenses that made up the ousted junkers’ base. There was silence save for the breeze and the sand and the occasional mechanical beep of some deadly contraption or other that Junkrat had scattered through their holdings.

The encroaching night was disturbed only by low, wary male voices, muttering carefully to one another. Shrouded in rags and protective gear, one stood tall with a pair of binoculars while the other crouched low. A pair of bolt cutters began snipping through the coiled reams of barbed wire, only to be set aside for a screwdriver and omni-tool that would dismantle the movement sensors they’d already seen nearby.

“Fucking tangle, who put this shite together like this? See anything yet, mate?”

“S’too dark. They’re in the big house, but can’t see more n’ curtains. See a big shadow sometimes, probably the Hog is home. Fuck off if you think I’m heading in there if he’s home. You think they’re keeping her in the house? Seems an awful lot of trouble to go to for some girl. Can’t The Boss just get another one?”

“You know the Bossman. Nobody steals from him, much less these two fucks on the outskirts. Besides, apparently this is some high-falutin’ lady he got special from the coast. We just gotta confirm they got her.”

The larger of the two lifted his binoculars once more. “Don’t like being out here, this close. This better be worth it.”

“Oh, I hear the Big Boss is mad as a cut snake. Won’t be great for the girl when they do find her. And if it’s that Junkrat like he suspects? Heh. Even the Hog can’t protect him then. And there’s plenty of scrap and coin in it for us, if we’re the first to get word to ‘im.”

“Hurry it up, then.”

The movement trap snapped apart with a harmless little whine, and its pieces were tossed behind him, into the growing pile of dismantled defensive measures and wires and mines he’d already deactivated, bringing them that much closer to their targets within.

#junkrat #mei #roadhog #meihem #meirat #junkmei #jamison fawkes #mei-ling zhou #mako rutledge #special delivery #writing #fiction #fanfiction

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Dragon Dancer Chapter 16: Dragon’s Spawn

When I managed to open my eyes, sometimes the sun shone and birds sang. At other times, it was the crickets singing in the dark of night. I could never keep my eyes open for long enough to ask how many days and nights had passed.

The breeze against my skin told me we stayed outside. Lukas brought me fish, clams and seaweed to eat.

"Aiko knows how to fish." He told me, once I stopped slipping in and out of consciousness. "We're lucky she does. It would have taken me forever to learn."

"Have you gotten in touch with anyone? Is there a town nearby?" I cleared my throat, "I need to contact Cassell. Your grandmother knows where my family lives. They're in danger."

Lukas looked down at me. "I'm… my grandmother's dead. She uh… was shot when they were kidnapping Tobias." He pressed his lips together.

Previous Chapter

Go back to the Beginning

"I'm sorry…"

"Are you?" He asked, giving a sharp glare.

I chewed my lip. "Of course. It's never easy, losing family. I wouldn't wish that on you." It was all I could think to say. "I never wished her dead."

"Do you know where we are?" He abruptly changed the subject, but I could see annoyance and irritation in his eyes.

I nodded. "We should be near one of the labs."

He gave a slow nod. "Do you know which one?"

"Um … I got the location from a vision of someone's memories. He was a test subject here."

"We're in Siberia." He said, turning one crimson eye to me, watching.

I gaped a few moments. "Are you sure? Isn't Siberia cold?"

"Not in the summer." He kept his expression neutral.

"Summer?" I recalled seeing the falling snow and a frigid wind as I dangled out the window during the kidnapping attempt. "Was… was I asleep that long?"

He began to laugh, low and bitter. "I was hoping you would know what you did."

"How is it summer?" I looked around. I was lying in the shadow of what appeared to be a large rockslide. It was warm even in the shade.

"I don't know! You're the time traveler!" He massaged his forehead and stood up. "You're the one who went back in time in the first place!"

My mouth opened but then shut. I couldn't tell him that it was my father who sent me back in time. "What about the lab? Do you think there might be a phone?"

"Possibly. But there are so many servitors there I can't go near it."

"How are the kids!"

He looked away. "They're ….Alright…" he said, after a pause.

"Can I see them?" 

"Yeah but… do you remember when we got here?" He looked down at me, reading my face.

"Yeah I… almost turned into a Servitor but I was able to stop it in time."

He walked over to me and knelt next to me. "You don't know how to control your powers. I suggest that you not use them until you've been trained."

He rested his hand on my back. "I know you meant well… those kids were going to die. You didn't do anything wrong… I speak Japanese so I was able to explain a lot to them while you were resting. They understand… in fact, they're grateful."

 "They are?" I lifted my eyes to him.

He nodded. "They really are."

I sighed to myself. "If it's summer then...I did it. I got them away from Chisei."

He was silent for a few more moments. “There’s one more problem. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. It might not be a good idea to tell anyone else about your abilities.” He shifted to be closer to me. “The reason why unstable hybrids exist is because the dragon in them is too powerful. If you can counteract that? It means that some hybrids can have all the power with none of the consequences. The people who were after you before… are still going to be after you. And if Cassell finds out…? Who’s to say they won’t start using you too?”

Lukas gazed at me, his eyes then lowered and he stood back up. "I want to check out the lab tonight and see if there's power in the building. You can come along, but only if you're going to stay behind me."

"What about the kids? We can't leave them alone.”

"They're going to have to cope for a bit while we make contact with the outside."

I watched him leave. As soon as he was out of earshot, I summoned Ielia from her necklace. She looked at me with clear concern and relief.

"I'm ok. Though I think I may have made a little mistake."

She held up her thumb and forefinger and winked. Just a little mistake.

"I don't know how I did it though." I sighed. "I visualized the best I could based on the vision…. But it felt wrong. Scary."

The other me offered me her hand to stand up and I picked myself up off the ground and followed her to a clearing. 

She disappeared. I looked around for the children and saw a little young girl and boy standing next to each other. 

The girl held the boy's hand. His eyes were wrapped in tight cloth bandages. Her hair was so long it reached past her calves "Can you speak English?" I asked.

They didn't seem to.  I held my hand to my chest. "Charlotte."

Then I pointed to them.

The girl pointed to herself. "Chika." To her brother. "Eiji." She then wrapped her arms around him. He smiled and returned the hug.

I couldn't help but chuckle. I made a little heart with my hands.

When I looked around the laboratory was easy to find, set up on a hill, they made no attempt to hide their little torture facility. Perhaps being in Siberia was hiding place enough.

I turned to the two youngsters. "Where are everyone else?" They didn't understand me.

I walked away from our little encampment, searching for the other children.

I found Tobias gathering sticks in his arms. He looked at me wide-eyed, dropping what he was holding. He backed away. 

Puzzled at his reaction, I tried to reassure him. "It's ok. It's ...it's just me."

He fell to the ground trembling with terror. 

"I'm not… going to hurt you. I know it hurt before but that was because you were going to turn into a Servitor."

He didn't relax.

"I'm sorry…." I said, my voice going quiet.

"It's ok Tobias." Lukas was carrying his own load of wood. He was alone. "I told her not to use her powers."

He dumped it unceremoniously into a pile and slapped his hands together. "This should give you enough fuel to last the night, but we won't be gone long.

Another girl walked behind him carrying a long pole of bamboo. "Is this Aiko?" 

"Yeah that's our Fisher!" Lukas smiled proudly.

"Where's everyone else?" I looked around in confusion.

Lukas sighed,  "This is it I'm afraid. The rest didn't make it."

The weight of his words fell heavy on my heart. "Didn't make it?"

"I waited for them to come out of that strange darkness… they never did." He was again looking at me with that blank expression.

I took a breath but no words came out. I hung my head, numbness spreading from my heart to my mind. 

They died in that cold and dark place that I'd brought them to. My mind drew an immediate conclusion. I was at fault for more death… and the deaths of children.

I felt a hand close around mine. It was the long haired girl. She patted my arm, saying something in Japanese.

Lukas translated. "She said it's ok."

I shook my head. "No. It's not."

Aiko regarded me with her wide dark eyes. Then she asked Lukas something. Lukas answered in Japanese. The two had a little conversation.

Lukas turned to me. "She said, bad things happen. You have to move on." 

I nodded even though I was certain I never would.

That night, we approached the largest of the buildings on the laboratory complex. The door was simple to break through. Supplies were left on tables, books scattered about offices, and even rotted food was left on the counter in a break room, as if the person who made it had just walked away.

There were plenty of beds where human test subjects were held.

Cables connecting the satellite network to the computers had been damaged by animals. Together we scavenged for replacements for them.

Lukas worked on getting the satellite communication online while I explored. 

I made my way into a few of the wards until I saw the room that Ruri Kazama's Speaking Spirit had revealed from that man's memories. The windows, the bed… it was just like this. I stood recalling how many times he'd been stabbed with painful needles. Locked away and tormented for twenty three years. No wonder he was a murderer.

I left that room out of the room and found Lukas rummaging through a file cabinet.

"I got it turned on but it needs to update." He said. "I found something strange. Look.”

He hands me a manila folder. “Light King… resurrection.” I opened it. “So they really were trying to wake up a dragon? But I thought the legend said that the Light King was burned up and the ashes got eaten?”

“Yes. Those legends are based off of information found on an artifact called the Ice Sea Tablets. According to experts it’s the Dark King’s retelling of how he quelled the rebellion of the Light King.”

“So… you think he was lying?” I looked up from the folder.

“Maybe? What bothers me most is that many sources suggest that the Light King was even crueler to humans than the Dark King was. Why would anyone want to bring him back?”

I stared at the papers. There were photographs of artifacts, bits of bronze and pieces of pottery. When I flipped over to one full page glossy photo of an urn, whispering filled my ears. I clapped the folder shut but the voices were in my head now. “Oh no…” 

It was just like last time in the underwater tower. Instinctively placing my hands over my ears didn’t help at all. "I'm hearing voices! Dragon voices!" My voice shook.

"What? Where?" 

"In my head! It's trying to talk to me!" The whispers grew more intense. Lukas grabbed my shoulders. He was talking to me but I couldn’t focus on his voice over the insistent chattering in my mind.

The ground under our feet lurched, throwing us to the floor, ceiling tiles rained on our heads. Lukas yanked me under a desk. The whole building groaned, banged and crashed around us. I clung to him, fearing being buried alive. It seemed to last forever but then the shuddering stopped.

I coughed against clouds of dust and insulation. Lukas went out from under the desk first. The computer had been smashed by falling debris.

We both stared at it in despair. “So much for calling for help.” Lukas grumbled.

We picked our way through the rocks and debris back to the outside where we were met with an impressive sight. A massive rockslide had collapsed part of a hill, and revealed what appeared to be a metal wall carved into the mountain. It was artistically etched with the image of a tree. The bottom of the wall was broken open, revealing a cave.

I swallowed hard. Again. Not this again. “We should check on the kids.”

I started to run towards the campsite. Lukas shouted a warning. A snake head emerged from inside the cave, flicking its tongue around two massive tusks that curled up over its nose. Its eyes flashed. It hissed, threw back its head. A stream of milky white fluid rained down on us even at this distance, landing just short of me as I ran.

I looked over my shoulder. Lukas was running toward it. I skidded to a halt. That thing was massive. There was no way he could fight it alone. It turned to face him, pulling more of its body out of the cave.

It wasn’t looking at me any more. I could see the mass of the coils were unprotected. I closed my eyes. The darkness behind my lids lit up with stars and that beam of light came flying. I eagerly reached for it.

Without questioning whether or not I could throw at this distance, I let it fly and it flashed like lightning in the night. It struck the beast and disappeared into his flesh. A fountain burst of blood spurted into the air. 

The snake retreated, pushing its body back into the cave and turned its head back to me only to be pummeled by Lukas’s icy whirlwind. It disappeared, its eyes watching us from the dark..

I hurried back to Lukas dodging the steaming white puddles of a sticky film wilting the grass.

From within the cave I heard it. A rhythmic grunt. I turned. The beast’s jaw had dropped in a rictus grin, saliva dripping from its needle-like teeth. “Ha...ha...ha…”

I couldn’t fight, but the snake would follow me back to the kids if I ran. “Ielia…”

My doppleganger appeared, light spear in hand. She darted to the cave in a full sprint. The beast reared up, mouth open. She took a flying leap right into the cave, running beyond it forcing it to turn a coil toward me to fight her. It spit at her, but she was not affected by its acid.

It arched its back, howling as the beams from my hand impacted it from behind. Blood erupted from every side, raining down on us. 

It collapsed, throwing its coils over its head in a futile effort to protect itself before lying still, it’s tongue hanging from its mouth. 

I lowered my hand, feeling the power of the dragon leave me shaking. 

Lukas stared at me, a mixture of fear and amazement on his face. “So, this is the strength of S-Class. No wonder… no one stood a chance against you.” He shook his head turning back to the cave. “There are lights on in there. There might be communication there as well.”

He turned to me. “I’ve changed my mind. You go in, I’ll stay back with the kids. Find a way to contact Cassell.”

“You want me to go alone? I can’t… what if… what if I mess up again?”

“You won’t.” He smiled at me. “You don’t know how to control your powers… it’s true. But I’m not going to stand in your way.”

“But I can’t…!”

His smile vanished and his irritation returned. He balled his hands into fists. “Listen to me and you listen well! Real well.” He walked up close to me and I took a step back. “You killed my brother’s bodyguards. You killed my brother after he turned servitor. You can travel through time…. You can control the level of Dragon power in people’s veins and … in so doing,  brought the Lord of the Devil Clan, Ruri Kazama, to his knees!”

He pointed to the dead serpent. “You did that!” He shouted. “So don’t tell me you can’t!”

I stood in silence, head lowered.

“You started hearing dragon voices and all of a sudden there’s… a big earthquake? How in the world am I supposed to know that you weren’t the cause of it?” He let out a loud frustrated sigh, running his hand roughly through his hair.

“I’ve met powerful hybrids… but you…” He pointed to me. “...you’re something else! So stop playing innocent! I’ll be waiting at the camp with the children for you.”  

He turned and walked away, arms swinging at his side.

He was right. I wasn’t playing innocent, but I had a hard time remembering the truth of who I really was.

Something else.

Next Chapter

#dragon raja #writing #fanfiction

[randomhomosapiens]

Wounds- part two

Pairing : MC (not the original one) × Masamune

A warning : This may be getting pretty violent in the next chapters. There will a priori be mention of death, suicide, torture and scarification.

@manunelle, there it is !

Read Part one

War counsel

The week that followed the incident was unbelievably tiring. Since the old ghosts had decided to come back from the dead, another war was profiling and they had to get ready. Masamune’s territory of Oshu was a direct neighbour of Uesugi Kenshin’s province of Echigo. Preparing his region for war was now an utmost priority. Piles of paper were piling on his desk, and war counsels kept being summoned at impossible hours, inventory of the stock of powder and of other resources had to be done without delay.

He had no idea what the Princess was doing meanwhile, and it was honestly not his priority to know. Or that was what he kept telling to himself. But part of Masamune's mind was constantly rehearsing the warmth of her skin, her shudder and violent trembling when she had shove him away.

The broken smile she had given him preoccupied him.

And that scared him.

He was the One-eyed dragon. He did not worry about his future ; that was just not in his nature. But he couldn't get her expression of his mind. There was also the issue of her gesture. He didn't really mind being molested by a woman, and he wasn't against acknowledging one's talent. So why did it matter to him so much ? She had thrown him three feet away with only one hand. But it wasn't like she had really hid her strength and fight skills ; he supposed she just hadn't had the occasion to show it. Masamune wanted to believe she was genuinely honest and oblivious, he wanted to believe in those carefree smiles and truthful eyes.

But as Oshu’s liege Lord and vassal to Lord Nobunaga, as an accomplished tactician and warrior, he couldn't just let it slip. And he kept telling himself that was what irked him. He liked her a lot and he didn't want to find out she was related to god-knew-what plot. He needed to find out if she was a spy. Then, perhaps, at last, he could worry about her smile.

Just as Masamune decided he wasn’t going to be able to work on those stupid letters in this conditions, another -another !- war counsel was called. Again. He hated those chores, he wanted to see the princess, and he missed his kitchen. Bah, they would have summoned him in advance to try to get him to attend it on time - the fools ! being late was an art in itself.

“Milord, this isn’t the way to the main hall” Kojuro grumbled as his Lord strolled off in the wrong direction.

“Nope, it isn’t. I’m just gonna grab something to eat and get there. I’ll try to be on time, as usual” he snickered.

“As usual, he says …”

He had lied, of course. Oh, he did intend to make his way towards the main hall, but not without making a small detour by the lass’s chambers first … a bowl of ramen in each hand, he pushed the door and entered the room.

It was utter chaos.

Book laid half opened and scattered on the floor, kimonos and stolen hakamas could be found thrown around the room in random piles, paper were strewn everywhere around the room, and a small flora had begun to grow on a pile of branches and other vegetable waste that she must have picked up during her escapades in the woods. The shouji* were wide open on the outside.

This had to be a nice room; when it wasn’t in such utter disarray.

Masamune immediately put down the food on the sole empty place of the floor and scrutinized the room to look for more concrete traces of struggles. Had she been kidnapped ? He wouldn’t be surprised. Nobunaga, Ieyasu and himself had already enough enemies on their own as daimyos, and now that war was profiling, a woman that was known to be in their favor would be a valuable hostage.

Just as he was preparing to tell the others, he heard a light ruffle coming from the open shouji. He drew his katana immediately.

“Who’s there ?” he called threateningly.

“Crap.”

A dark haired head briefly poked out from behind the doors.

He sighed and sheathed his sword.

“Kitten, I can see you through the shouji. It’s transparent.”

“Masa ! I thought it was Hideyoshi.”

“And why were you hiding ?” he asked, feeling the smile coming to his lips.

“Well. I’m forbidden to go out without telling him. And also, … I may or may not be late for this counsel thing.”

She came into view and he noted that she was in this strange dark fabric again.

“Oh, you have to come too ? That makes two latecomers", he commented. “So what happened ?”

“What happened ?”

He gestured to the whole of her room. “Either there was a storm and you left the door open, or you’re just very bad at tidying things.”

“Don’t. It’s an organized mess. I know exactly where everything is”, she boldly lied. “But never mind that, is that ramen ? Can I have some, please ?”

“Well, shouldn’t you be at the counsel ?” he teased. He did cook it for her.

“You’re one to talk”, she replied quickly. “Alright, first I’ll get prepared then I can have the food. Can you hand me a kimono ?”

And she started to get dressed in a rush. She had her weird black clothes on again, and she had hastily tied a hakama to her waist, not even bothering to put on a kimono. As much as he enjoyed the inconspicuous sight of the side of her thighs, Hideyoshi and the others wouldn’t.

She had chosen an uchikake**. Weird choice. There was hardly anything more formal, and she didn’t strike him as a formal person. But as he looked over the rest of her kimono, he noticed most of it were uchikakes, and only one yukata*** and tomesode**** could be found. That was odd of the maids to choose such kimonos for her to wear, and he could now understand why she always ended in hakamas. It was a pain.

Masamune was going to ask her when she removed her hair clip. Her jet-black hair rolled in a dark cascade along her spine. He had never realized how long and deep they were, smooth like coal-colored silk. And yet so different from the straightness of the woman's in Azuchi. Her hair was a long wave that stretched from the top of her skull to the hollow of her waist. She obviously did not pay much attention to it, and leaves and twigs of all kinds were visible here and there. It curved and dove and folded in the most unexpected ways, yet it looked graceful and harmonious.

“No time to brush. Give me the food ?” she reached out to him.

“No powder ?” he dared ask with a smile.

He wanted to see her in a more sophisticated, less boyish style. She rolled her eyes.

“Powder ? With my skin tone ? I wouldn’t mind looking like a corpse, but I don’t think Hideyoshi’s heart could stand the shock”, she snickered.

“Ha ! Worth it”, he shrugged.

They made their way to the main hall, slurping their food on the way, competing for the place of the noisiest eater. Though she was extremely clumsy with chopsticks, and had to dive her face into the bowl to finish, she won.

“We’re here !”

“You’re late, both of you.”

They all rolled their eyes and Masamune barked a laugh while Hideyoshi was muttering under his breath about the man having a bad influence on her.

Mitsuhide made a side comment on her loose hair that was wavy and she shaped her fingers into pistols, pointing at Ieyasu and designating him as her "hair brother". That earned her a sharp “Quiet, madwoman”.

But most of the faces around them were grimm. That meant bad news.

~

She didn’t listen. She couldn’t. She was utterly bored and only attended the counsel because she needed to return in Hideyoshi’s good graces. She was half-sleeping and completely oblivious of the disapprovement of the other retainers. She didn’t hear when her name was called, and Masamune had to shake her awake.

“What ”, she yawned, obviously bothered.

“Don't sleep during counsel” Nobunaga ordered.

“I can't help it. I don't have any business being here. Why did I even had to come ?” she asked.

“Look around you, air-head” said Ieyasu.

All the other retainers were gone and they remained alone in the otherwise empty hall. The counsel was finished.

“Hideyoshi has requested you get another work at the castle. As you don't seem particularly eager to fulfill your role as Chatelaine” Mitsuhide stated. She didn't answer ; it was true. “As you showed a remarkable love for mobility-”

“Yeah, it's impossible to find you in the same place for more than ten minutes.”

“Don't interrupt me, Masamune. As I said, as you seem to like to be in constant movement, you're going to run some errands for the castle. Starting now.”

“Eh ? Pain” she dropped.

“Language !”

“Then it's settled, you'll find the maids to explain to you your daily chores” Nobunaga ordered. “Dismissed.”

“But I don't know the area, apart from the woods !”

“I volunteer to show the lass around and escort her”, Masamune said stepping in, before Hideyoshi could scold her for having been into the woods enough time to know it by heart. He had a grin pasted on his lips, but his eyes were more serious. He knew how she liked to get in impossible situations -much like him, in fact- but he was heartily worried for her safety. And … he wanted to investigate more on what happened between them the other day. It was his duty, after all, as an ally of Nobunaga, to the whole region of Owari, and to Oshu too. She didn't look like she minded, but he was curious. And- concerned.

*Shouji : In traditional Japanese architecture, a shōji (from the Chinese "bamboo fence") is a wall or door made of translucent rice paper (called in Japan, washi, literally "Japanese paper") mounted on a wooden frame. Shōji are generally referred to as sliding doors and retain space that would be needed for a hinged door.

**Uchikake : An extremely formal silk kimono with long sleeves and a train. It can be entirely white or predominantly red, gold and black. It is richly embroidered with many auspicious motifs such as phoenix, crane, turtle, bamboo, pine, plum blossoms. It is worn like a cloak over a generally white furisode (kakeshita) and is never closed by an obi. 

***Yukata : The yukata is worn during summer festivals. It is known for its bright colors and simple design. It is an informal cotton kimono unlined worn by women and men regardless of their age. Compared to other types of kimonos, yukata is much easier to put on and stays much cheaper. 

****Tomesode : The tomesode (literally "tied sleeves") is the most formal silk kimono for married women. He is struck with one, three or five blazon of the family and his motifs, which may be silver or gold, are concentrated in the lower part.

Note : in Japanese, words don’t have plurals, but for comprehension reasons, I had to put “s” at the end of some words.

Read Part three

#mc × masamune #ikesen masamune #date masamune #masamune date #ikemen sengoku #ikesen #ikemen sengoku : romance across time #one eyed dragon #oda forces #wounds #my writing

[davidcarner]

Wanting It All Ch 6, The Aquarium

A/N: Today's chapter was 95% plotted and 50% written by Angelgurl0. I don't know what I'd do without her. This chapter is fluff, but fun. For the record, halfachance has read, and approved this chapter. I have never been to the Long Beach Aquarium, but Angelgurl0 and another fanfic writer has. It's time for some family bonding. Thanks to Michaelfmx for his amazing betaing. Welcome to Wanting It All Ch 6, The Aquarium

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck, I have carried Grace on my shoulders at a Zoo...a long time ago.

The next morning found the three of them in the car and arriving at the Long Beach Aquarium parking lot, with Chuck driving. It had been a different ride than Sarah was used to with Chuck behind the wheel. Usually she drove while he chose songs from his playlist, giving out bits of trivia, and she just enjoyed herself. Last night had been wonderful. The three had enjoyed the pool, Sarah had dunked him once when he wasn't paying attention, and they had just been together, happy. Jordan had fallen asleep quickly from swimming and Chuck and Sarah had planned on talking, until her yawns threatened to dislocate her jaw. She went to her room she was staying in for the weekend to get some sleep and she assumed he went to his, but she wondered. She had a feeling he had sat up for a lot of the night, thinking. That's what he did, think. This morning he had looked no worse for wear and they piled into the car and headed to the aquarium. She told him the story about what had happened to her after she left him and before she joined the CIA. He had been quiet for a few moments, processing.

After parking the car, Chuck sat there for a second, shaking his head. "So, you had to work for the CIA for seven years." Sarah nodded, watching Chuck's face. There was real sorrow and understanding there, not pity. It may be eight years later, but some things about him hadn't changed. "And if you didn't work for them, you'd go to jail?" She nodded again. "Good grief, Sarah, I get it. You couldn't leave, so why would you call?"

"But I should have," she insisted. Chuck turned to her, and took her hand.

"No, we're not gonna dwell, someone incredibly smart once told me we've wasted eight years. She's right, this is about moving forward."

She smiled at him. "Using my own words to get ahead, very smart, Bartowski." He waggled his eyebrows and got out of the car. They got Jordan out, headed to the entrance, and made their way inside.

"Now, here's a very important piece of information." Chuck had been to the Long Beach Aquarium before, so he quickly became the defacto tour guide. Jordan was quite excited. They had rented a stroller for him, because Chuck was quite sure today was going to tire the little guy out. "These first few exhibits have a blue diver, named Bob. Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to try and find him in those exhibits."

Jordan, excited to the point he was about to bounce, looked over at his mom. "MOM! Can we do it? Please?"

Sarah gave Chuck a smile. Chuck thought he couldn't handle this, the three of them. Was he ever wrong. "We should do it together."

Jordan nodded, and looked at Chuck. "Yeah, like a family!" Chuck's eyes got wide but he saw Sarah's smile, and knew it wasn't bothering her. He helped Jordan into the seat, buckled him in, and offered to push. Sarah stepped away and made the gesture of "be my guest."

Chuck took off, pushing Jordan in front of him, and Sarah walking beside him. "Okay, so we're headed to the Southern California / Baja Gallery where the sea jellies are first."

"Ooh." Jordan was mesmerized with them and their colors. Chuck thought Jordan was watching the jellies when the little guy spoke up. "I can't find Bob."

"I think I see him." Sarah squatted down to his level and pointed out the blue diver.

"There he is!" Jordan was excited and nearly bounced out of his stroller. Chuck grinned, so far so good.

Chuck squatted down beside Jordan. "Where is he, Buddy? I don't see him." Jordan took Chuck's face in his hands and pointed it toward the diver. Sarah had to put her hand over her mouth to stop the laughter. He still had his hands on Chuck's head when Chuck spoke. "Yep, there he is!" Sarah had to laugh at the sight. "So Sarah's in the lead finding them."

Jordan, with his hands still on Chuck's face, turned Chuck's face toward his. "No, Chuck, we're doing it together."

Chuck nodded. "Got it." Sarah gave him a grateful smile. They wandered along, and found seals and sea lions, Jordan finding Bob with the seals, and Chuck pointing out the one with the sea lions. They made their way outside, and Sarah grinned.

"If you don't mind oh great tour guide, might I take this part?" Sarah asked.

Chuck bowed deeply at the waist. "M'lady, it would be my pleasure." Jordan laughed at the two. Chuck straightened back up, and then squatted down to Jordan. He put his hand by his mouth as he faux whispered to the little boy. "She's got a lot to live up to, my tour has been top notch so far." He winked at her.

They were about to head outside and Sarah was trying hard to contain her excitement. She had a good idea what was about to happen. Last night, she had done some research on the aquarium and knew this was where Jordan could pet a bamboo shark, corals, and even the jelly fish he thought were so cool from the earlier exhibit. As they walked, she decided she needed to spice up her tour guide routine. She mimicked Chuck and pointed out a small outdoor gift shop…which quickly backfired because Jordan wanted to buy everything inside. She saw Chuck reach for his wallet, and flashed him a look. He pulled his hands back, palms up, grinning. Sarah laughed, and told Jordan if they had time they'd come back later. She caught Chuck's eye and shook her head no, earning a laugh from Chuck. Chuck bent down to unhook Jordan's straps when Jordan realized what they were about to do.

"Can I really touch them?"

Sarah squatted down in front of him, soaking up the look of wonder on his face. "Mmmhmm. Now the Bamboo Shark," she began.

"WILL HE EAT ME?!"

Sarah put her hands on his shoulders to calm him. "Do you think I'd let you touch him if he would?" Jordan shook his head.

Chuck squatted down beside him as well. "Hey, I've know your mom for a long time, and there is no way she'd let someone she cared about get hurt."

Sarah flinched at those stinging words. She didn't think Chuck was trying to be hurtful with them, but she had let him get hurt, and there was no one she had cared about more before Jordan had come along. Chuck saw her flinch, replayed the words in his head and realized what he had said. Before he could apologize to her, Jordan spoke up.

"I've known her for four years," the little boy said, tilting his head to look at Chuck. Chuck blinked, thought about it, and realized he was right.

"Welp, you got me there, kiddo." Jordan giggled, and walked over to the tank with the both of them. Chuck picked him up to get a better angle and he gently touched the shark. He touched the coral as well, and then very hesitantly, touched the jelly. Jordan laughed and yanked his hand away. Sarah beamed as she watched the two together and felt something stir in her that she thought was long dead.

After they had touched all the cool stuff outside, the trio headed upstairs to the tropical pacific gallery, where there were all kinds of frogs. They were colorful and exotic, but an issue quickly arose when Jordan couldn't see some of them, because they were too high up.

Chuck squatted back down in front of Jordan, and pointed to his back. Jordan's eyes grew wide. Chuck nodded and Jordan wrapped his arms around Chuck's neck and threw his legs around his chest. "Higher," Chuck said softly. Jordan put his hand on top of Chuck's head and began to climb. Sarah covered her mouth at the sight in front of her, watching the two men she loved, especially the tall one that had one eye closed in a wince. Jordan threw one leg over Chuck's shoulder, grabbed hold of the far ear and pulled. Sarah looked on in a mix of horror and laughter as Jordan pulled himself up into a sitting position on Chuck's shoulders. Chuck winked at Sarah and slowly rose, with Jordan sitting like he was king of the world.

"Mom! I'm taller than you!"

Sarah giggled and looked at the two of them. She found that feelings were erupting in her that she was having trouble controlling. Chuck gave her a questioning look, making sure she was okay. She nodded, tears pooled in her eyes. Jordan studied the frogs, while Chuck held one of his legs with one hand, and Sarah's hand with the other. Sarah noticed a few people glance and smile in their direction. She wondered how Chuck would react to those looks, she didn't mind, in fact, she enjoyed them. They continue through the exhibit and came upon a huge tank with sea turtles. Jordan's eyes widen.

"Aren't they awesome, Jordan?" Chuck felt the boy nod to his question and grinned. Jordan was in absolute awe. In fact, as they explored the entire gallery, Jordan barely spoke a word. His mouth just remained open, taking in all of the sights. Chuck grinned and appreciated the boy's wonder. "It's different then what we're used to seeing on land isn't it?"

"It is." Jordan was quiet for a moment and when he spoke, there was something to his tone that was different, kinder, warmer. Not that Jordan had ever been anything but friendly to Chuck, but this time there was just….more. "Thank you for bringing us here, Chuck."

"Hey, it is my pleasure, Buddy."

The tour continued as Jordan pointed out things like the sea dragon that looked like a twig, and then, he saw it, his eyes grew wide as he could barely contain the excitement. "MOM! NEMO!" Sarah laughed at his excitement and looked at him. She glanced up at Chuck. The smile on his face was like stumbling upon a hidden treasure. After all they had been through, after all that had gone wrong, it was like things were finally clicking. They passed a nice little cafe with an outside patio as they made their way to the North Pacific Gallery and that was where Sarah made a decision.

"Jordan, why don't you give Chuck a bit of a break, his back has to be tired." Chuck hadn't said anything or even made any face to indicate he was hurting, but the thankful look he gave her told her she was right.

"How do I get down?"

Chuck grinned at Sarah as he tried to look up at Jordan. "Oh, Buddy, this is the best part."

"Chuuuuuck," Sarah was very leery about what she thought was about to happen.

"Hey, we're family, right?" He winked his eye when he said that. And with that, Sarah knew he hadn't meant anything by his earlier comment.

She grinned, and tears pooled again in her eyes. If he was game, she was game. "Right. What do I do?"

"That's the spirit, Sarah! Jordan are you ready?"

"Yep!"

"Okay, Sarah, behind me. That's it, now, Jordan, Sarah is going to reach up, that's it, just like that and you are going to let go of my ears, andmyhairow!" Jordan was giggling, and Sarah was trying not to. "Just let go buddy, your mom's got you." He did, and he tumbled right into Sarah's arms. He smiled up at her.

"That was fun!" Sarah put him down on the ground and Jordan ran over and hugged Chuck's legs. Chuck had a surprised look on his face that turned into a grin. He reached down and patted him on the back, rubbing his shoulder tenderly. After a moment, Jordan let go and took Sarah's hand as Chuck went back to stroller duty. He didn't say anything, but Sarah was pretty sure he was wondering if they'd made a mistake renting it. Sarah glanced over, saw the look on his face and just smirked. When Jordan tired out in a bit, he'd be glad they rented it. "Look at that bird's face!" They had come upon the Diving Birds and Jordan couldn't believe what he was seeing. He was in awe of the orange beak on the Horned Puffin, and just stared at it. Sarah started to respond but couldn't help but laugh as Chuck walked right up to the glass to look at it.

"Sarah, it's got an orange beak!"

She shook her head. She went from having two children to one and then back to two. "It does, Chuck, now back away from the glass."

He grinned at her and the tour continued. Sarah saw more and more couples give them looks and couldn't help but wonder what was going through Chuck's mind. If she were honest, she was getting what she'd always wanted, and what she'd wanted with Chuck before she met Daniel. She wanted a family, she wanted her son to have a dad that cared. That wasn't Daniel, and she now knew it. She'd promised herself she wouldn't do to Chuck what she did to Daniel, to force him into something, but a part of her hoped, dreamed, that they would be a family. She knew how Chuck could freak out, and a part of her worried he would. A part of her worried this was too much, way too fast, and there were still scars from what happened between them in the past, but if she was honest, she was hoping with every fiber of her being that Chuck Bartowski was loving this as much as she was. It was everything she could hope for, and yet she didn't dare dream it.

"Can I be honest with you?" The question he asked softly yanked her out of her thoughts.

"I wish you would…always."

"I'm a little mad at your dad right now. We could have been doing this….I know you said we're moving forward but this….this is…"

"I get what you're saying, but you're right, this is." She grinned at him.

"Yeah?" A slow smile spread across his face.

"Yeah," she replied, the grin growing into a smile. She decided to be as honest as she could. They both deserved that. "Chuck, we get to make this whatever we want. And right now I have the two guys in my life I want, so I hope you're good with that."

"Just to be clear, I am one of those guys, right?" He waggled his eyebrows and she snorted.

"Yes, Nerd Boy, you're one of them, and your little buddy is the other."

Chuck looked over at Jordan. "He is, isn't he?" The grin on his face made her heart swell. They continued to walk in silence until they reached the Giant Octopus. They all stood there together watching the octopus as she moved about, changing colors to match whatever she touched. Chuck didn't even think as he just slipped his arm around Sarah's shoulder and she just as naturally leaned into him, Jordan's hand securely in hers. They watched the marvelous creature and stood there as the volunteer talked. When the volunteer finished telling them all about the octopus, they continued on to the Coral Touch exhibit. Sarah lifted Jordan onto her hip so he could reach into the pool to feel all the different things.

"I want to feel all of them, Mom." Sarah grinned at her son and his bravery. "Now you."

"Yeah, now you, Sarah," Chuck teased.

She gave Chuck a look, but it wasn't unkind, more playful than anything. "Hush, you," she replied, but the grin made it clear she enjoying the back and forth. She took a deep breath, reached in, and quickly pulled her hand back.

"Mom! Why didn't you touch more?"

"Yeah, why Mom?" Chuck added, grinning.

She spun on Chuck and spoke with a low, husky voice. "You don't get to call me that unless I have one of yours, and even then, I find it a little weird." Chuck began to process what she'd said, sputtered, and had no clue what to say, as Sarah and Jordan exited the coral touch lab. Chuck realized quickly where they were going and hurried after them, excited. What they didn't know was that Chuck had a possible surprise lined up, Otters. As they walk up to the otter exhibit, Jordan's eyes lit up. He edged right next to the glass and one of the sea otters swam right over and waved at Jordan.

"MOM AN OTTER WAVED AT ME!" He was beside himself.

"Sweetie!" She was waving back with her son at the otter and neither noticed the grin on Chuck's face.

Chuck got right behind Jordan and bent down. He spoke softly. "What if we fed the otters?" Jordan spun to look at Chuck, his eyes huge. Sarah looked down at him, in disbelief. Chuck realized he hadn't cleared it with Sarah, stood, and began to open his mouth.

"I don't know how you pulled this off, and I don't care, thank you," she said. Jordan gave him a thumbs up and a wink, making Chuck laugh.

"Come on, Sarah, it's no big deal. Besides, doesn't everyone want to feed them, because, well, OTTERS!" Sarah threw back her head and laughed. Some things never changed with this guy.

"So, is this the otter feeding family?" A worker they hadn't noticed before asked. She grinned at Chuck and Sarah wondered if the worker knew him.

"Did we time it right?" Chuck may have been even more excited than Jordan, which Sarah wasn't sure was completely possible.

"Absolutely, Chuck." Sarah was certain she knew him. "Come on, we'll go meet Ollie and Brooke."

Jordan's eyes about popped out of his head. "We're gonna really meet them and feed them?" He threw himself at Chuck's legs. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou." Sarah just laughed as Chuck shrugged. She reached over and put her hand around his neck, her thumb rubbing him under his ear. She knew he loved that, and she grinned.

"You did good, Bartowski."

"Yeah?" he asked softly. She nodded. They followed the employee until they reached the feeding area.

"Mom! Brooke, that's the one that waved at me earlier!" Sarah just shook her head. The volunteer led Jordan over. They appeared and acted gentle, but Chuck and Sarah were nearby, just in case.

"Jordan, say paw before you feed Brooke next time." Jordan looked at Chuck like he just gave him the secrets of the universe.

Jordan got close to the opening with his hand, and with excitement almost spilling out of him said, "Paw". The otter reached out and touched Jordan's hand. Sarah had instant tears in her eyes. Her son was beside himself, and it was because of one amazing man. She was pretty sure Chuck's arrangement of this had nothing to do with his money. There was one reason and one reason only, there was no one on Earth like Chuck Bartowski, and that was why she couldn't forget him for all those years. She and Chuck both fed the otters, and after having waved good-bye and thanked Debbie for the wonderful time, they headed upstairs to the outdoor area. They made it to the penguin enclosure and watched them for a while, but Sarah knew that Jordan was fading, fast. The otters had been the high point, and it had been a long day, but there was one more thing to see. The trio headed over to the Ray Habitat touch pool, and, Sarah included, pet the bat rays and the guitarfish.

Sarah looked at her little guy about passed out in the stroller and her big guy, exhausted himself, but suddenly he perked up. She followed his line of sight, and rolled her eyes. The gift shop. She followed him inside, but quickly lost him. How did someone so tall and lanky disappear like that? She found him again and he had six shirts in his hands. Three of one kind, all in their sizes, three of the other, again, all in their sizes.

"Chuck," she began.

"Sarah, come on, we need these!" The first shirt said The Otter Strikes Back, made in the cartoonish style of The Empire Strikes back. She rolled her eyes and glanced at the second set of shirts. On them was a shark, like out of Jaws, but the lettering around it said, Come to the Shark Side. She gave him a pleading look, he pouted, and she relented. She knew she was in trouble if he ever figured out how far he could go with that pout. He bought the shirts, returned the strolled and the three, with Chuck holding Jordan against his chest, Jordan's head on Chuck's shoulder and Chuck holding Sarah's hand with his free one, exited the Aquarium, and loaded the car. Sarah realized that she was on her way to getting what she wanted. Peaking over at Chuck's face, she was pretty sure he was as well. As they pulled out onto the highway, Sarah snuck a peak in the back at her sleeping son. She turned and looked at Chuck, focusing on the road as he drove, and the image of the family she had always hope for snuck into her mind. He noticed her looking at him and smiled back warmly, reaching over and taking her hand. "Did I do okay?"

"Bartowski, that was just about perfect." She was quiet for a second. "You know what, I'm wrong, it was perfect." He nodded. "What about you?" He glanced her way. "Was it…too much?"

He smiled, his nose crinkling. "No, I had a blast. I mean, I think some people thought we were a family."

"I told you I was with the two guys in my life I want to be with, if that's not family, I don't know what is." He squeezed her hand and as they rode, she thought about the life she left behind. The life she thought she could never have. The life she thought impossible given all their mistakes, but now it was not only obtainable, but it was going to happen, it was just a matter of when.

A/N: Now wasn't that fun? Come on back next chapter for the fallout of this one, and oh, there is fallout. SO much fallout. Ellie and Sarah talk, Daniel and Chuck talk, and three characters make an appearance. Ch 7, Conversations...Hoped you liked it, reviews are always welcomed…til next time.

DC

#Chuck #Sarah #Charah #fanfic #fanfiction #Wanting It All

[violetcrownchronicles]

Opium Smoking in This City

19 AUG 1886. Austin Daily Statesman.

THE PIPE. HOW THE OPIUM SMOKERS “HIT THE PIPE” AND ITS WONDROUS EFFECTS ON THE SYSTEM.

The moon had reached the zenith and was preparing to sweep down westward through the constellations. It was an hour or more after midnight. Quiet brooded far and wide over the city, and in palatial residence, in cottage and hovel, the god of night had exercised his wand with magical effect, and sleep held sway and ruled with gentle, but firm, authority. The streets were deserted and, with the exception of a policeman and a Statesman reporter, not a living human soul was on the Avenue. The policeman went north, the newspaper man south. Stopping in front of a Chinese laundry from which a light streamed out over the sidewalk, the reporter saw in the front room, even at that hour, one of the almond-eyed sons of the flowery kingdom diligently at work, ironing a pile of shirts. The process was watched for some time and it would do scores of housewives good to see how deftly, neatly and rapidly the work is accomplished. But the reporter’s mission, at that time, was not to see the skill of a Chinee laundryman. It was far otherwise. He was on a voyage of discovery, hoping to enlighten and interest the readers of the Statesman. He was out to see ow the “pipe is hit,” and if possible to show up some of its evil effects. The first he can, but the latter he cannot, for the very simple reason that if there is really any evil effects following the smoking of opium, the custom is of too recent importation and confined to a too narrow limit in this city for the evil to show itself. 

The reporter heard voices in the room, in the rear of the one used as an ironing apartment. He boldly entered the door and passed through into the room where, to say the least of it, he was surprised. He had been led, from reading reports, to believe that the interior of a Chinese laundry was one of filth and squalor. Not so. Everything was scrupulously clean. Not abed-room in the city more so. The one of which the Statesman writes was about 8 x 10, and in one corner, and taking p nearly the entire side of the room, was a bed neatly and comfortably canopied with a mosquito bar, which had two of its sides drawn up. On the bed were two Chinamen with a small spirit lamp burning between them. Both spoke English, one of them fluently. Although an entire stranger, and entering their private room unbidden, the Statesman’s reporter was received courteously, but neither of the Chinamen rose from the bed. He was asked to sit down, and to a question of how they liked to live in America, one of them, evidently an educated man, replied:

“Oh, very well.”

“Are you smoking opium?” asked the reporter, as he peered over at the lamp on the bed. It was on a tray which contained, besides the unique lamp, a lot of long steel needles resembling darning needles, or more properly crochet needles, a small tin box and a pipe.

“Yes, all Chinamen smoke opium. It’s a national custom with us, likee smoking tobacco with Americans.” And he picked up the pipe and began to handle it. The pipe, the first ever seen by the reporter, for smoking opium, was of peculiar shape, the stem about two feet long by one inch in diameter, being of bamboo or some other cane grown in China. Both ends of the stem were of the same dimensions, with the mouthpiece tipped with ivory. About two inches from one of its ends the bowl, if it can be called such, was fastened. It was a hexagon pyramid about three inches high with the base, some three inches across, inverted. It was made of hard clay, but some are of brass, and other still of wood with the crown covered with ivory or silver, in the center of which is a small hole about the size of a large darning needle.

“Do you want to smoke?” asked the kindly disposed Chinaman.

“How do you do it?”

“Oh, it’s easy. Show you how,” and the Chinaman picked up one of the steel needles from the tray and taking the small tin box lying near the lamp, opened it and inserted one end of the needle rapidly rolled the other between his finger and thumb. In a moment or two he drew it out with a small quantity of black ropy substance about the consistency of half cooked molasses, adhering to it. This was the prepared opium and he held it for a moment in the blaze of the lamp where it sizzled and crackled and spluttered. He then kneaded it on the broad face of the pipe and again held it in the flame of the lamp and again rolled and kneaded it on the pipe. He repeated this several times, until finally he had a small ball of black looking opium about the size of a large buckshot, sticking to the end of the needle. He then inserted the needle and ran the point down into the bowel of the pipe and on withdrawing it the ball of opium adhered to the surface. He then placed the stem in his mouth and still lying down turned the pipe and brought the opium in contact with the flame. He then drew six or seven deep inhalations, sending volumes of smoke through his nose. This exhausted the opium and he again resorted to the little box and went through the same process, but this time when he drew the needle from the pipe the opium refused to adhere to the surface. He replaced it on the needle and held it in the flame, and again kneaded it until it did adhere, leaving the needle clean and bright.

“Try it,” said the affable host, as he passed the pipe to the apostle of the Statesman, who at that hour, when the other preachers and missionaries were calmly snoozing, was down among the heathen, trying to find out something about their habits.

“Try it,” he repeated, as the reporter hesitated: “try it, it no hurte you.”

In the interest of science, and to satisfy a curiosity peculiar to all reporters, the Statesman’s scribe concluded to do so.

“Get on the bed,” he said, as he made room and threw the newspaper man a pillow, “you must lie down.”

A reclining position is necessary, so as to reach the lamp with the pipe, which must be held in the flame as long as the pipe holds out, for the instant it is removed the opium ceases to burn.

The reporter did as directed, and down among the heathen(?), reclining on one of their cleanly beds, while all about him civilization and the policemen slept, he “hit the pipe.”

It was a difficult job, but under the direction of the Chinaman, the pipe was exhausted at just six draws.

The smoke was rather pleasant to the taste and free of irritation of any sort, notwithstanding it was ejected through the nostrils.

At the time it had no effect, as it requires at least two or three pipefulls to affect a novice, while those accustomed to it can and do smoke from twelve to twenty at one siesta, or one “hit.” Inveterate smokers will smoke, the reporter was informed, as high as sixty pipes, such as described. And it can be smoked at one “hit,” until you go to sleep, but this is not generally the object sought.

It affects persons differently, except in two ways. In all the tendency is to create a desire for more, and when once a man succumbs to its power there is no antidote except the drug itself. At least so say the Chinese.

There is more than one pleasure connected with opium smoking, some of them voluptuous, sensuous, fascinating and captivating. One among the greatest pleasure is derived is, after you go to sleep. Then it is that you go off into dreamland and roam among the most enchanting scenes, and revel amid empyrean pleasures. Whether or not it is injurious to health is not for the Statesman to say. This is left for the doctors.

There is very little opium smoking in this city, and it is confined exclusively to certain classes. There is but one public joint in the city, and it is run by a white man.

#1886 #August 1886 #Austin #opium #drugs #Chinese Americans

[artikgato]

Souyowrimo Day 20

Prompt list here, other completed prompts in this tag.

I DEFINITELY didn’t straight-up rip off The Ancient Magus’ Bride, an excellent anime/manga series that you should totally watch/read. (Don’t worry if you haven’t seen it, you don’t actually need to know anything about it to understand this!)

Day 20 - Fantasy

“A church grim?” Souji asked, his cool silver eyes looking over the small tea table at his guest with a great deal of confusion. “I’m being requested all the way out in Inaba just to take care of a church grim?”

“That is only the first,” the silver-haired man sitting opposite him sighed. “Not many are willing to travel out to Inaba, so they’ve let quite a number of other requests pile up.”

“How long do you expect I’ll be there for?” Souji asked. He got nothing from the older man but a shake of his head.

“There is no telling. You’d better pack warm clothing, as winter is approaching,” he replied. Souji blinked.

“I haven’t said I’ll accept the requests,” he said.

“I’ve accepted them for you,” the older man replied. “Requests here in the city have been dwindling. You need to restore the Seta name to something to be proud of.”

“B-but, I-” Souji started to protest, but the other man simply stood up.

“I’ve arranged for your train fare as well. You leave tomorrow morning. Is that clear?” he asked, and his silver eyes bored down on Souji, so cold and commanding, that all Souji could do was nod.

“Yes, father,” he replied, trying not to sound bitter.

“Good. And while you’re in Inaba, perhaps you’d like to learn how to make a decent cup of tea?” his father suggested, coldly, before turning and leaving. Souji kept his head bowed as he left, not daring to let his father see the anger burning on his face. He’d just started to get used to his life here in Tokyo, and now he was being sent out to a tiny town like Inaba? Where he’d be taking care of small, unimportant cases like exterminating church grims? He let his rage seethe out as soon as his father had left, shutting the door behind him.

Luckily, Souji’s father had also arranged for lodging in Inaba, so that he didn’t have to struggle to find an open house in the small town. Ryoutaro Dojima, come to find out, was actually Souji’s uncle on his mother’s side. He had been none the wiser until the gruff-looking man introduced himself as such. He would later find out that his parents were ashamed of their Inaba heritage and had hidden it from Souji for his entire life. It didn’t come as much of a shock as it should have to him, to be honest. (As time went by, he would find that he greatly preferred the outwardly cold but inwardly warm Dojima, and he would end up adoring his young cousin, Nanako.)

Dojima was also the police detective in charge of supernatural cases in the Yasoinaba area, which was extremely convenient. The huge stack of requests that he plunked down on Souji’s desk, however, was not.

“These are all requests for the Magus Order?” Souji asked, incredulously, and Dojima just nodded, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yes. A lot of them are probably old enough that they’ve resolved naturally, and...I still haven’t caught them, but there are non-mages around here that seem to go around solving these cases on their own,” Dojima replied.

“But that’s dangerous,” Souji replied, and Dojima sighed.

“They’re probably teenagers. Amateur witches or whatnot. I can’t say this officially, but they’ve actually been very helpful. Getting a mage out here is, well…” Dojima trailed off, and Souji nodded.

“Yeah. I had to be forced to come out here myself but…” a sigh, “now that I’m here, I might as well get started.” He picked up the paper on the top of the stack and, sure enough, it was the request made about the church grim. As much as he wanted to try to do the older requests first, as they would probably already be resolved...he knew he needed to do some actual work. If nothing else, he needed to get paid.

And so, he found himself in the local graveyard at 3am, huddled in his mages’ robes with only a small lantern for light. It was...surprisingly cold. He had (begrudgingly) taken his father’s advice and packed warm clothing, but he hadn’t thought he’d need it just yet. He let out a small sigh, careful not to make any noise, and resisted checking the time for what felt like the thousandth time.

He hoped the stupid grim showed up tonight - if it didn’t he’d be out here tomorrow night, again. And again after that, until he found the grim.

Just when he had started to doze off a little - he wasn’t even sure how, as he was both cold and uncomfortable, kneeling on the hard dirt - he heard a distant sound. It sounded like crying. And, predictably, it was coming closer. Good, it looked like the grim was going to show up after all. The crying got steadily louder, going from a faint just barely-there sound and rising to an audible level, like that of a human sobbing loudly. And then the grim appeared...or maybe not.

What did appear was a man, which was definitely not a normal church grim thing, but not entirely unheard of. What was weird was the fact that the man didn’t have a scrap of black anywhere on him. Between the light of the almost-full moon and the lanterns set up around the graveyard in intervals, Souji could tell for certain that this man was most definitely not wearing black clothing, nor was his hair black. He had slightly tan skin and light brown hair, and he was wearing a white shirt and red pants. Not how a grim would look by any stretch of the imagination, but-

He was definitely not human. He’d walked out of thin air, for starters. He was also crying a name, and to the average person he might just look like a distressed person who’d lost their lover or relative, but the cries had that specific tininess to them that suggested that he was somehow supernatural.

Still, this was very odd. The reports had said that the church grim was haunting the grave of a recently deceased woman by the name of Saki Konishi. And, indeed, the crying man was calling her name, and kneeling down at her grave, clutching the stone in bare hands and sobbing. Dressed for the part or not this being had to be the church grim... or whatever was being mistaken for one, at the very least.

Making as little noise as possible, Souji dropped the bundle of bamboo and eucalyptus he had been holding, as he decided that this being was more of a threat than he’d initially thought it would be. He very carefully reached down to his thigh and started to loosen the bindings on the mage’s rod he had strapped to his leg, pulling it free and unsheathing a dagger from his belt with his opposite hand. He didn’t want to fight, but if he had to…

Just as he was getting ready to stand up and calmly announce his presence, he sensed something… else. So did the not-grim, as the man immediately froze and started to look around in a panic. Maybe he really was just a normal person, and the actual grim was going to arrive soon? But, no, the sudden dark chill in the air was definitely not a grim. It was something much, much more sinister.

“I thought I’d find you here if I waited long enough,” a voice cut through the air, and both Souji and the not-grim froze, wide-eyed. Souji felt fear climb up his back and settle in his throat for the first time in years, fighting down a full-body shiver.

The voice had come from behind him.

Footsteps started to sound, the soft crunching of leaves underneath boots, as someone - no, something approached, and all Souji could do was fight to remain as still as possible, dagger at the ready. The way he was wearing his cloak made it so that he couldn’t easily see behind him without turning his head.

“Wh-who are you?” the not-grim asked, and Souji’s eyes flicked back to him, his face a mask of fear, as he stared at whatever was approaching from behind Souji. Souji heard a chuckle, and every nerve in his body wanted him to run away as fast as possible as the being spoke again.

“That doesn’t matter, does it? You won’t be alive long enough to care,” the voice said, and to Souji’s intense, momentary relief, the being stepped past him, missing him only by a few feet, and continued walking towards the not-grim. It hadn’t seen him at all. Its true target was the not-grim, who was starting to back away in fear. From the angle he was crouched at, Souji couldn’t see much of the newcomer’s features, but he could tell that he at least had the form of a man with short, black hair. And to Souji’s utter confusion, he was dressed like...a normal person. He was wearing what looked like a casual suit - black pants, black coat, red tie, white shirt, with a yellow coat over that. He wasn’t even holding any kind of weapon. Just who - or more accurately, what, was he?

“What do you want?” the not-grim asked, panicked, and Souji realized that he was being very carefully steered back towards a large tree. Whatever this strange being was, it was a very seasoned hunter. Souji didn’t want to get involved - he really didn’t - but this was his first assignment, damn it all, and he needed to get paid. And the look on the brown-haired man’s face was absolutely destroying his self-restraint.

“That’s far enough,” Souji said, voice clear and cutting through the night, and the newcomer stopped, slowly turning his head to peer over his shoulder at Souji. He had normal enough looking features, but his eyes were bright red and even seemed to be glowing, and the sinister look on his face was enough to make Souji’s blood run cold.

“Ehhh? What’s this? Did a Mage finally deign to grace our little town with his presence?” the newcomer asked, with a big, cold smirk. “I’ll bet you thought it would be easy out here, like shooting fish in a barrel. Heheh.”

“Who are you?” Souji asked, slowly but calmly lifting his hand to reveal the dagger he was holding. The newcomer laughed again.

“Like I told this guy, you won’t live long enough for it to matter,” the black-haired man said, turning back to the not-grim just in time to see him trying to sneak away. “Oh no you don’t.”

The newcomer made to lunge at the terrified brown-haired man, but Souji quickly lifted his rod and fired off a small fire spell, making sure that it impacted on the ground directly between them. The not-grim yelped, and the newcomer turned back to him with a glare.

“Hey now, little mage. Wait your turn, I’ll eat you once I’m done with him,” he said, his tone a warning. Souji repressed a shudder - eat him? What was this guy? He brandished his rod anyway, making a show of charging another spell.

“Not on my watch,” he said, and the black-haired man turned to face him fully, his back to the not-grim, with a big, chilling smirk.

“Oho, you’ve got spunk. I like it - gives you an interesting flavor when I’m eating your intestines. Not as good as fear, though,” he replied, and Souji once again repressed the urge to panic. Instead he looked over the black-haired man’s shoulder, very briefly, and made eye contact with the brown-haired man, hoping he’d get the message to run while he could.

“I’ll only warn you once, monster,” Souji said, fire spell at the ready. “Leave now, or you won’t live to regret it.”

“You know, Mages are so rare around here, I consider them a delicacy,” the man replied, totally ignoring Souji’s warning. He took a step forward and started to speak again, but Souji simply unleashed his fire spell instead of letting him talk. The man was instantly engulfed in a pillar of flames that shot up into the sky. He heard the not-grim gasp and saw him turn tail and run, and thought that was probably a great idea. He glanced back to make sure his path was clear, and then took off running.  He let his hood fall back against his shoulders, making it all the easier to look back and make sure the monster hadn’t escaped the fire somehow. He saw a hand shoot out of the flames, clutching a gun, and he couldn’t react fast enough. Metal pierced one of his legs and he went down hard on the cold ground.

“That was a high-level fire spell,” the cold voice said, and Souji managed to roll himself onto his back and sit up, dagger and rod at the ready in front of him. The black-haired man was calmly approaching him, gun in front of him and trained at Souji’s head. He appeared to be a little singed, smoke rising off of his form. He’d managed to overpower Souji’s fire spell, somehow, and all Souji could think was that he’d at least damaged him. The man came to a stop a few feet away from him, never lowering the gun, red eyes glaring down at him with unmasked hatred.

“Just for that, I won’t eat you. I’m going to tear you limb-from-limb, and rip your soul apart! How does that sound, brat?” he seethed, and Souji tried to get his thoughts in order enough to at least prepare a shield spell to stop the bullet, but his leg hurt so much and he was losing blood.

All of a sudden, a gigantic brown dog leapt from the trees nearby and barrelled straight into the black-haired man, knocking the gun out of his hands and pushing him to the ground. The dog went straight for the black-haired man’s throat, intent on ripping it out, but the black-haired man shoved him back. The dog landed in a heap on the ground nearby with a yelp, and he was somehow covered in huge, bloody gashes. Souji didn’t even realize why until he looked back and the black-haired man, whose hands had seemed to sprout huge black claws, now dripping red with the dog’s blood. The black-haired man snarled, and Souji saw his window of opportunity. He’d been avoiding using this spell, but this was life-or-death, and he didn’t know if the man’s boast about ripping apart his soul was true or not, but he didn’t want to take chances.

“Hamaon!” he shouted, and he saw the black-haired man’s eyes widen just before a huge burst of white light engulfed him and lit up the surrounding area. Souji felt his energy drain to almost nothing, felt his skin go cold, and barely kept himself from passing out, but when the light faded the black-haired man was gone. Souji honestly didn’t have enough awareness to tell if he’d been vaporized by the spell or simply fled, but the important part was that he was gone. A ring of soft golden light was around both Souji and the dog, and nothing could enter the ring and harm them as long as the light didn’t go out.

And he’d found his church grim. He was certain of it - even though it wasn’t a black dog, it was still the grim. He just needed to keep it alive or...wait, maybe he should let it die? The request had only been to stop the grim from making noise at night and keeping the surrounding houses awake. In any case, he needed to take care of himself first. He didn’t even have enough energy left to heal his own bullet wound, after all. He struggled into a sitting position and, with a sigh of regret, ripped a long strip of fabric of of the bottom of his now ruined robe, wrapping it tightly around the wound. When he looked up from that task, the dog had somehow gotten up and shuffled closer to him, because he found himself face-to-face with it. He flinched back, startled, and tried to back away only to get the painful reminder that, oh yeah, he’d been shot.

“Oh, sorry,” the voice of the brunette from earlier rang out, and the dog’s form shifted into the form of the man from earlier. He looked like he was in even worse shape in this form, blood running down the side of his head from a cut in his hair and clothes nearly torn to shreds. But he gave a cheerful smile anyway, and sat down in front of Souji. “Guess I was a little scary in that other form, huh? Sorry about that,” he said, as if he wasn’t literally bleeding to death. “Name’s Jiraiya and...we’re both in kind of a tight spot, aren’t we?”

“Souji Seta,” Souji replied, as if he wasn’t also bleeding to death, holding out his hand to shake. Jiraiya held his hands up, palms out, to show Souji that they were both absolutely covered in blood and dirt.

“Prolly not a good idea,” he said, and Souji nodded. “Anyway, I don’t want to die here, and I’m sure you’ve got better things to do too.”

“Yes,” Souji replied, somewhat baffled at the fact that this guy - Jiraiya, he amended - could be so cheerful when they were both literally bleeding to death.

“So...and I know this is kind of a ‘last resort’ type of thing, but I want to make a deal with you,” Jiraiya continued. Souji raised an eyebrow, but he doubted that Jiraiya could see it, as he wore his bangs so long they covered them.

“Go on,” Souji prompted. Making a deal with a fairy could be dangerous, he knew that of course. But Jiraiya was very badly injured, and Souji was less so - and Souji had far more magical ability than Jiraiya did. It might at least be worth hearing him out.

“You don’t have a familiar, do you?” Jiraiya asked, looking somewhat hesitant, and Souji’s shock must have shown on his face, because Jiraiya laughed, nervously. “Well?”

“I don’t...but you do realize that if you became my familiar, your life would be in my hands, right? You would die when I die. You’d have to go where I go and do what I say,” Souji answered, and Jiraiya laughed.

“Of course I know that,” he replied. “But does it look like I have a lot of options? I’m dying, here. And even if I managed to make it out of this magical ring alive, that guy would just come again another night and try to eat me. I don’t want to get eaten, especially by someone like him.”

“What is he?” Souji asked.

“I heard stories about him all the time when I was a kid, but I never thought he was actually real…” Jiraiya started, looking terrified. “He’s a ghoul. But like, not a normal ghoul that eats humans. He likes to eat fairies, and ghosts, and all kinds of supernatural stuff.”

A ghoul that could eat fairies, huh? Souji shivered. He really had only barely escaped with his life and soul intact, then. If he was going to have to deal with something like that, he’d need all the help he could get. He might even have to contact his father...if he made it out of this forest alive, at any rate.

But would his father even talk to him, if he knew he’d taken on a fairy for a familiar…?

“Alright,” Souji said, finally. “If you’re sure it’s what you want, then you can become my familiar.” He saw the grim visibly relax and breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Thanks man, you’re a lifesaver. Literally, heh,” Jiraiya replied. Then he held out his right hand, palm up, and Souji nodded. He carefully unwrapped part of his leg and swiped his right hand through the blood, taking time to re-bandage the wound. Then he lifted his hand toward Jiraiya’s, threading his fingers with the brunette’s before pressing their palms together.

“Hey, Hana-chan!” a voice called. It was a warm voice, a nice voice, and it belonged to a girl that was just as warm and nice as the voice implied. She had long, wavy blonde hair and a big, gorgeous smile. Souji could tell right away that this was Saki Konishi, and he could see why Jiraiya had been so attached to her that he’d come to cry at her grave every night.

“Hana-chan, here boy!” Souji turned to look at where she was looking, and a dog came bounding over a nearby hill. The dog wasn’t as big as Jiraiya’s grim form was, and instead of the darker brown color it was a lighter, almost golden brown. Saki laughed as the dog - Jiraiya - bounded toward her and stopped short of pouncing on her, rising up on his hind legs to lick at her face before she wrapped her arms around him, laughing all the way.

Souji turned to see Jiraiya beside him, in human form. He was wearing a long robe made of brown fur, and his eyes were sad, but hopeful at the same time.

“I was just a normal dog,” Jiraiya explained, turning to look over at the scene playing out - one of his memories. Souji noticed that the cloak had a hood, and there were two ears on the top of the hood, and a bushy tail on the back. Cute. “I always wanted a human form, so I could comfort her. She got bullied a lot, y’know.” The scene faded as Saki settled down on the grassy hilltop, the dog’s head in her lap as she petted him. “...and then she died. I didn’t know what to do. The police think it was suicide, but Saki was murdered, damn it.”

“So that’s why you became a grim?” Souji asked, and Jiraiya nodded. They appeared to be standing in a void of blackness now. Jiraiya turned to face him fully, ducking his head a little.

“I know I already asked you for a lot, becoming your familiar, but...do you think you could help me find Saki’s killer, and bring him to justice? After that, I’ll be content to do whatever you want me to, for as long as you want me to.”

Souji sighed. As if he didn’t have enough work to do. But...he just couldn’t say no.

“Sure,” he said, and Jiraiya looked up with a huge grin. The tail on his cloak was wagging, which was a little weird, but Souji had seen weirder.

“Okay then,” the grim said, reaching out and grabbing both of Souji’s hands. “All that’s left is to give me a name. I can’t go by Jiraiya anymore.”

The name ‘Hana-chan’ came to mind, but Souji dismissed it immediately - he didn’t exactly know the rules, but he couldn’t pick a name that the familiar would have any connection to. He stared at the grim, thinking about the brown grim form and the golden dog form, and noticed that he had a splash of freckles across his cheeks. Cute.

Was it bad to fall for your familiar? Probably.

“Yosuke,” Souji named, and Yosuke’s eyes slid closed, his grin fading to a pleased smile. The black void turned white around them.

“Yosuke,” he said, as if tasting the name. “I like it.”

#souyowrimo 2017 #souyo hell #souyo #i could so easily write like 5000 more chapters of this but this is all #for now at least #gotta write the rest of the prompts

[jaehyunbelviso]

Used Pt. 1

An uncomfortable sigh left your mouth as you kept your eyes fixed on the plate of food set atop the bamboo place mat. You scooped up a spoonful of mashed potatoes and stuffed it into your mouth. You felt the attractive man’s dark, unfathomable eyes on you which in turn colored your cheeks and ears a bright pink shade. You swore his gaze was scrutinizing your every facial feature, but why would he be? He was gay after all.

Your mom thought it a good idea to invite the new neighbors over for dinner. Surely, the newly wed neighbors looked friendly, especially the taller, pale brunette with carefully crafted dimples on either side of his cheeks, but there was something about his husband. He stood just two inches shorter of the man who introduced himself as Jaehyun and had dark, ash-tinted hair messily combed over his forehead and a sculpted jawline which you’d be eyeing if he weren’t staring you down right now.

“So Taeyong, you said you and Jaehyun moved here because you were offered a job?” my mom questioned thoughtfully.

“Yes, I was hired as a teacher at the high school just a few minutes from here actually,” Taeyong explained, pointing a finger in the semi direction of the school. His eyes weren’t burning holes through you for the first time.

“Wow, Hansol’s actually the guidance counselor there!” your quirky mom exclaimed a bit too excitedly.

What a surprise. She only mentioned your brother and forgot you were even present.

“Oh! And Y/N is a senior there!”

As soon as he heard your name, his lips quirked up into a smirk. Once again, his eyes were focused on solely you. You failed to keep your eyes fixed on your plate and were met with his cold stare.

“Oh, really?” Taeyong expressed eagerly, his interest piqued.

You devoured the last bits of your steak before you excused yourself from the table. You wanted nothing more than to be in the safe confines of your room.

-

The last bit of the winter break flew by and you were now locking your front door, walking down the concrete steps and exiting the gate. The cold wind picked up and you mentally cursed at yourself for not wearing a thicker jacket.

As you were passing the new neighbors’ home, you heard the fumbling for keys and the chirp of a car follow. You quickened your pace to avoid being seen.

“Y/N!”

Too late. You hesitantly turned your head to see a smiling, bright-eyed Lee Taeyong.

“Oh… Good morning, Mr. Lee,” you mumbled with a slight nod of your head.

“It’s freezing! I’ll give you a ride to school, Y/N,” he called, motioning you over with his hand.

“Oh no, I’m good.”

“Oh but I insist! I doubt your skirt is keeping you warm, Y/N,” Taeyong remarked with a cheeky grin.

How bad could a five minute ride with a pristine hypercritic be?

You gave in and shuffled towards the passenger’s side. Lee Taeyong beamed. The sight was quite charming, not as it had been the day you first met. He had his hands stuffed into the pockets of his trench coat and shy doe eyes.

You briskly opened the door of the charcoal-colored sedan and slid into your seat. Simpering, Mr. Lee followed and started the car. The car ride was short with only a limited amount of words exchanged between the two of you. Mr. Lee thoughtfully dropped you off in the front of the school before going and parking his car.

You sauntered into the school, luminous hallways surrounding you. You soon arrived at your classroom and sat in your usual seat, the one in the front left corner next to the window. Small streams of students gradually poured into the classroom followed by a tall man in a black trench coat. Great.

“Good morning, class. As you all may know, your teacher Mrs. Ahn is on maternity leave and I’ll be filling in for her meanwhile.”

You had completely forgotten your teacher was even pregnant. Why couldn’t she have just kept her legs closed?

He soon began lecturing and your focus remained solely on the board. While your eyes never faltered to steal a glimpse of your personable substitute teacher, Mr. Lee’s eyes would often wander over to where you were seated.

Class soon ended and you went about your day. Although you were used to walking to and fro school, Mr. Lee began to offer you rides in the mornings which you so gladly accepted. It was January, after all. He repeatedly apologized for not being able to take you home due to mandatory after school meetings for the faculty, but you didn’t understand why. It wasn’t his job to take you home.

After several days of oddly comfortable silence, Mr. Lee spoke up during one of those frosty seven in the morning car rides.

“Y/N, I’ve noticed you struggle with mathematics. Have you thought of meeting with a tutor?” Taeyong questioned, his hands gripping the steering wheel while his eyes stayed on the road ahead.

“Well… no, I haven’t. I should if I want to get into my first-choice college,” you replied, somewhat puzzled now.

“I’ll tell my parents to look for one,” you commented a few moments after giving the newfound dilemma much thought.

“Nonsense, I can tutor you.”

“Oh but you’re already so busy, Mr. Lee. I’m sure my parents can find a tutor for me.“

“Y/N, I insist.”

The unusual and creepy feeling he first presented had vanished entirely. He was actually an honest and attentive person you now felt comfortable with so you accepted.

“Okay, what time should I go to your house then?”

“What about six o'clock?” he suggested, glancing over at you, his eyes gentle.

You smiled and nodded.

-

The time soon came for you to meet with Mr. Lee. You threw on a gray sweatshirt and black running pants. You quickly pulled your hair back in a ponytail and walked over to Mr. Lee’s home . Lightly, you knocked on the door and heard feet shuffling on the other side.

“Y/N! You’re just in time!” Taeyong expressed excitedly, contentment evident on his face.

He led you to the dining room where he had multiple mathematics books piled up on an elegant Victorian dining table. He fixed his glasses and took a seat.

“Sit,” Taeyong urged, patting the seat next to him.

You sat and searched your backpack for your homework while Mr. Lee flipped through a book trying to find the lesson you had gone over in class today.

“Okay, let’s start,” Taeyong said with a hint of a smile on his face.

The both of you worked diligently for half an hour. Mr. Lee would go over an example in the book with you and then you’d solve a similar problem on your worksheet. While you were closed to finishing your homework, you felt his eyes on you; it felt as if he was burning a hole through your face. Your cheeks began to heat up but your eyes didn’t leave the paper in front of you, that was until he called your attention.

“Y/N.”

Your head shot up and you were met with Mr. Lee’s face just centimeters away from yours. His eyes now focused on your rosy lips while your fearful eyes scanned his face for a decipherable emotion.

Although his face inched closer, you were unable to move. You remained completely motionless when his lips came into contact with yours. His soft lips moved against yours but you didn’t kiss back, you couldn’t.

You felt his hands run up and down your thighs. Finally, you became sensible. You pulled away from the kiss and pushed his hands off your thighs harshly. You hastily gathered your things and headed for the door; you needed to get out of their immediately.

“Y/N!” Mr. Lee yelled from the dining room.

Your heart was pounding against your chest, your emotions obscure and your mind clouded with a hundred different thoughts. Before you could turn the handle, he grabbed your arm and pulled you close to him.

“Tell me you’re not attracted to me and I’ll leave you alone,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

“Get off of me!”

You tried to push him off but he gripped your wrists tightly. You couldn’t move.

“I’ll make you feel good, baby girl,” he breathed, his eyes blazing into yours, close and intensely.

Seconds ticked before you reacted and yelled at him to release you. Were you actually thinking of letting him have his way with you? He’s a married man, Y/N.

His grip on your wrists tightened even more and he pushed you up against the front door, his gaze obsessed. He looked you over one last time before smashing his lips against yours. His lips trailed down to your neck where he sucked harshly. He held both your wrists with one hand while the other hand traveled down to the waistline of your running pants. You gasped; even if it was forceful, you had to admit it felt good being taken control of.

As he slipped his cold hand in your pants, you remembered Jaehyun.

“Where’s Jaehyun?” you asked half-dazed due to the euphoric feeling elicited from Lee Taeyong’s skillful hand.

“He’s working late tonight, don’t worry sweetheart,” Taeyong responded in between sloppy kisses to your neck.

How could you so easily give yourself to a married man?

Once again, logic resurfaced in your thoughts and actions.

“Mr. Lee, I can’t.”

He stopped sucking on your neck and search for your eyes. In your nervous eyes, he detected fear and uncertainty. He knew he could no longer try to persuade and seduce you. He knew when to stop. He knew you’d give in when you were ready.

He nodded and freed your wrists from his tight hold. You couldn’t meet his eyes. With your vision focused on the tasteful tile patterns on the floor, you turned around, grasped the brass door knob, and opened the door to leave.

-

It was three in the morning and you were still struggling to finish an essay. The essay was due on Monday, and sure it was only Friday, but you were trying to keep your mind away from what had occurred hours earlier. You sighed and decided it was best to try and sleep. Lazily, you stood up from the desk chair and made your way to the bed, earphones and phone in hand.

You were too engrossed in your thoughts to notice Annie by Neon Indian playing on repeat. You were entirely consumed in your thoughts. You recalled the way Mr. Lee pushed you up against the door and sucked on your neck brutally. You wanted to feel it once more. You needed to feel it.

You reached for your phone and hastily scrolled through your contacts. Mr. Lee had offered you his number one morning, should you ever need something, and right now you desperately needed him.

Although your action was impulsive and you were aware of the strong possibility of him being asleep, you sent him a text message.

Seconds, which felt like hours, passed and you felt the vibration of your phone. It was him.

Mr. Lee: Come over.

#nct #taeyong #nct 127 #angst #nct taeyong #nct fanfic #nct scenario #lee taeyong #nct angst

[davidastbury]

August 2018 Summer 1958

A hot afternoon. Unable to decide whether to stay or go. Russell looking at me - those eyes - as biologically close to Caroline’s as it was possible to be. And she was in the next room practicing at the piano. I could actually hear the thud of her thumbs and imagined her splayed fingers - stabbing through the octaves - wrists arched, skin stretched. And the noise - it couldn’t be called music - the noise made my head spin until I had no thoughts at all - just the start of a strange, painless ache that would never get any worse - and would never go away.

Then

She had been his girlfriend for a few weeks and the boy decided to introduce her to his parents. They liked her instantly and soon she was frequently calling at the family home. More than that, they got along so well with her that the girl visited when her boyfriend was away - working in other cities and sometimes overseas.

When he was home, he invited his dad to meet up with the two of them in a nearby bar. They spent the evening talking - talking about everything. And then, this became a fairly regular thing; the three of them at a little table, drinking and endlessly talking.

Once, he said to his dad that we’ll - ‘see you later as usual’ - and his dad replied - ‘No, you don’t want me around. Let it be the two of you’.

The son replied - ‘Of course we want you to be with us!’

And so the dad did as he was told.

Something Wrong

I once saw a rabbit hit by a speeding car - it was thrown up in the air; then rolled; then settled at the side of the road. A few seconds later I saw his/her mate - ears raised, looking back, confused, aware something was wrong.

And then the realisation that he could not get up, or move - and their was world broken, as broken as the sharp bones in that scrap of warm fur.

On The Train

Nice young couple. He makes comments and she smiles - doesn’t actually laugh because that might be too much encouragement. Probably an embryonic relationship; they look at each other with affectionate curiosity and open minded interest. All nice and pleasant - before the elephantine looming of practical matters ... money, families and the seething smorgasbord of desires.

City Block Story ... #22

I had a friend who lived on the 28th floor of a block in town. I used to call on him from time to time and particularly enjoyed the views from his floor to ceiling windows. One day I shared the lift with two female students and a maintenance engineer. The students were enjoying some sort of joke - I picked up the last line - which the dark-haired one, choking with laughter, had difficulty saying - ‘ ... and I won’t have any student debt!’

I tried to figure out the bit that had gone before - the bit I’d missed - but of course couldn’t figure it. The two students, still giggling got out of the 28th and followed me along the short corridor. The dark haired one fumbled with her keys and went into the flat next-door but one, to my friend.

So there I was, sitting on my friend’s sofa, looking out of his window at the clear blue sky as if in some sort of strange aircraft. I told him about the two students and he understood who I was talking about - ‘The dark haired one is the tenant; the other is her pal. I don’t know anything about her other than that she’s studying architecture. She needed to borrow my phone once. That was our only contact. But there is something about her - she goes out quite late in night.’

‘What do you mean, “goes out”’? I asked.

‘I don’t know. She goes out most nights. A car comes for her.’

‘A taxi?’ I asked.

‘No, it isn’t a marked taxi, but she gets in the back seat as if it’s a taxi.’

‘So, she’s going somewhere?’

My friend was amused. ‘Look - I don’t know! Stop asking me questions. You know where she lives - go and ask her!’

He knew he had to be careful with sadness - you have to keep it at arms length. Sadness isn’t ever sorted out and put on the shelf; instead it hangs around in the shallows, watches you, looks forward to new additions, new griefs, new disappointments. It will leap into flame just when you aren’t expect it - when you are low over something, something in itself a bit trivial - but it is enough let loose a build up of sadness - a flood of misery.

So he was careful with sadness - always on his guard - always watchful - and never, repeat never, alone.

Britain and Europe. #1

I used to attend the biannual Oil Industry jamborees in Aberdeen. It wasn’t just European, oilmen came from all over the world, it was international - Arabs, Persians, Texans, Venezuelans, Norwegians - the lot. They looked like oilmen too - men who could cap a blazing wellhead or drill miles out at sea. Men who survive in the toughest conditions - all wearing expensive ‘outdoor’ clothes and the ubiquitous Rolex watch.

I used to attended some of the workshops - one I particularly remember was given by the sales manager of a British component manufacturer. We knew each other from previous industry exhibitions and trade shows. After he’d done his stuff the two of us went to the bar. I asked how he was getting on in his firm - I’d read that it had been ‘acquired’ by a French conglomerate - and his reply, given with sincerity, really shook me. There he stood, on the foothills of senior management within a European giant; who mixed with the best of the best....

‘Listen David - between you and me - if I could get a job on the bins, I’d leave tomorrow.’

After living in the flat for a few years we decided to make some changes. We started by smashing down an interior wall and when the dust settled we were amazed to find a secret room! It was really weird - fully furnished and very neat.

Then we remembered that we lived in a duplex.

R.

We knew each other for a few short weeks - right up to the time she left out little town forever. London was the magnet and I understood her reasons for going - I didn’t question any of it - I let the day come round and carried her bags and cases to the station - and I watched the bus take her away.

That was a long time ago. I heard nothing from her in the first few weeks and months - and then the months became years - in fact, nearly sixty years. And now others will have filled her life and they will see her as she is - but for me it is entirely different - I hold a gleaming fragment - fixed forever at that moment; how she had panicked over a last-minute confusion with her ticket - how she was cheerful and tried not to look at me - how she was heartbreakingly soulful - how she tried to smile and how hard she tried not to cry.

The Immortal Story

Once upon a time sailors were great storytellers - it was probably a way of getting through the boredom of long voyages. The stories themselves were usually fantastic and subject to the imagination and personal embellishments of the teller. One story was so popular that it was given the title ‘The Immortal Story’. It goes something like this ...

There was once a young sailor, his ship was docked for a few days in harbour somewhere in the Far East. He was alone one sticky, sweltering night - alone and getting drunk on the strong local brew - outside, he could hear the night chorus of tree frogs and monkeys. He was near a rickety bamboo screen, behind which the establishment’s girls waited for customers. He then looked up and saw a beautiful woman standing in front of him - she put a finger to his mouth and taking him by the hand led him outside and into her carriage. A servant took them to the woman’s luxurious home.

She said to the young sailor - ‘You must not speak’ - and he simply nodded his head. She gave him a night of extraordinary pleasures - leaving him weak and heavy-eyed. In the morning a set of clean clothing is laid on the bed and the woman told him that her servant had the horses ready to take him back to his ship - and that he must not speak or try to see her again.

The person telling this story must pretend that this really happened to him. He can dress it all up in anyway he likes, as long as he is convincing.

But somewhere, there would have been a sailor telling the Immortal Story, and in his case it would true.

The school bag.

The hotel allocates a space where departing guests can leave items for which they have no further use. Four or five shelves brimming with things like deluxe swimming goggles, piles of books and magazines, inflatable alligators, straw hats, sun creams, flip flops etc. Anyone can take what they want.

I saw a girls school bag; lots of pockets, pink shoulder straps - a bit knocked about - ‘well used’ is the phrase. The interior was scuffed and marked by felt-tip pens, which the owner had not capped - and traces of stickers, unsuccessfully scratched away by her thumbnail. I held it upside down to shake out the sand and the flap swung open revealing a drawing on the underside - a childish image of a kitten in a bow tie, surrounded by bunches of marijuana leaves. I had to smile.

And then, under the picture of the unfeasibly cute kitten, she had neatly stencilled her name ... Lucie Wider.

I put it back on the shelf.

‘O Master of the Universe!

God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.

Unfurl the canopy of Your protection

And Bless the life of Lucie Wider.

Lucie Wider

Lucie Wider.’