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#Implied/Referenced Character Death
wangxianficrecs · 5 months
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💙 Gentian Seeds by yuyu_finale
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💙 Gentian Seeds
by yuyu_finale (@yuyu-finale)
T, 9k, Wangxian
Summary: Lan Wangji's travels take him to a nondescript yet somehow painfully familiar seaside town. His reception is unusual; he is met with wistful stares and frantic whispers, and it all comes crashing down when the inn's proprietress utters a name he hasn’t heard in years. --- Or, Lan Wangji accidentally ends up in his mother’s hometown. Kay's comments: One of my favorite canon divergence stories, because it gives Lan Wangji more family! Family from his mother's side! Because of course Mama Lan must have come from somewhere and here, he stumbles into his family on a night-hunt during the time Wei Wuxian is dead and it's just so soft and such a lovely idea. Literal found family hehe. Excerpt: Lan Wangji sees the shards scatter, but hears nothing over the blood roaring in his ears. His chest is tight, too tight, his lungs have locked, and he suddenly feels so small and brittle. He is five again and classes have just ended, and he is holding brother’s hand, the two of them rushing without running to a house at the edge of the world, a secret buried beneath disjointed excuses uttered from tense lips. They were never allowed to be children in anything but this, ignorant and carefree for one day every month. Happy, for one day every month. Her eyes are golden, just like his. “Jie..jie…” Her voice is little more than an echo of wishes unspoken. She treads over the shards, slowly, and holds her breath, as though afraid Lan Wangji will run away. “Jiejie’s….?” He takes a small step back, afraid of something he doesn’t know. She stops, eyes flitting from the points of his headpiece to the tips of his shoes and back again. She is half his height, but every sweep of her gaze makes him feel like he is paper, folding in on himself over and over. “Jiejie’s….son?”
pov lan wangji, canon divergence, madam lan backstory, implied/referenced character death, thirteen years of wei wuxian's death, families of choice, found family, soft lan wangji/wei wuxian, family feels, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending
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admrlthundrbolt · 1 month
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Alone Together (Nandor the Relentless x Chubby Reader)
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Moving to a new home to take care of your grandfather was one thing. But finding out that the neighbors are Vampires. Well nothing could prepare you for that. If only you noticed just how much attention Nandor gave you.
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Hi guys. I'm back at it again. I watched the newest season of What We do in the Shadows recently. Which reminded me of how much of a himbo Nador is. Including how quickly he falls in love. So it wasn't hard for him to become my muse.
Anywho, I hope you enjoy.
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Standing in the kitchen your gaze wandered to the window. The veiw was one you still hadn't gotten used to. Traveling halfway across the country can do that to you.
Turning back to the oatmeal that was bubbling away on the stove top, you stirred it. Spooning some into a couple of bowls, you set off for the living room.
“Here you go Papa.” Placing the bowl on a serving tray in front of him. You sat on the nearby couch, not yet eating.
He tore his eyes from the TV, playing old black and white reruns. Then frowned down at his breakfast. Placing his spoon in the oatmeal he scooped up a bit and let it fall back into the bowl. “Now I'm not one to complain.” You had to fight to keep the smile off of your face. “But honestly would it hurt to have something with a little more flavor?”
You let the smile slid onto your face as he finished. Heading to the kitchen you grabbed a jar of honey and started back. Only to give it a second thought, snatching up a tablespoon too. “I get where your coming from, really I do. But it's the doctor's orders, gotta watch your cholesterol.” Standing next to him you held out the jar. “I'll make you a deal. You can have a serving of this, if we watch something in color.” Noding he reaches for the jar. “That isn't the news.”
He deflated a bit at that, but still agreed. Then perked up suddenly and said. “Speaking of news, could you go grab the paper.”
“Sure, but I'm not leaving the honey.” Walking away, you chuckled at the mumbled obscenities that left his mouth.
Going out to grab the paper, you decided to check the mailbox as well. “Junk, junk, Bill, Nandor The Relentless?” It was an odd thing to see in a letter. Equally as bizarre was the ornate nature of the peice of mail. As you looked over the envelope, you realized that it wasn't your address. Glancing at the number's on the other nearby mailboxes, it seemed to match a neighbor's. It was the home that you had seen a nervous looking younger man. He was usually working on the yard or house. It was an older Gothic manor of a home, so the upkeep was probably brutal.
Heading back in you dropped the mail next to your grandfather's breakfast. Then turned and made for the front door again. “Going to give the neighbor's some of their mail we got.”
He nodded half heartedly as he stuck his nose in the newspaper. “OK, while your there see if they have something tastier for breakfast.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Waving your hand around, you beelined towards the mysterious letter owner. Not seeing anyone in the front yard, you made your way up to the front door and knocked. Glancing around the house as you waited, you couldn't help but admire the odd architecture. As you were about to knock again, thinking the home owner may not have heard you, the door swung open. It was the anxious guy and a camera crew? Raising a brow you held up the letter. “Hi, I live over there.” You pointed out your grandfather's house. “We got one of a piece of your mail, Mr. Nandor.” Holding it towards him, you smiled.
He seemed to be in a bit of a daze, until you moved the letter towards him. “Oh, thank you. I'm actually Guillermo, Nandor is my Master.” He seemed to flinch at his words and quickly changed the subject. “Isn't that Mr. Wilson's house. I didn't know he had moved.”
Shaking the odd feeling from your mind, you shook your head. “No, he's still there. He's my grandfather, after my grandmother passed. Well, I offered to move in and help out. It seems to be a good decision for both of us.”
He noticed how the smile slipped from your face as you explained. “I was sorry to hear about your grandmother's passing. I'm glad that Mr. Wilson has someone to count on.”
Your smile had returned at the statement. “That's if I can keep up with the old man. I'm (Y/N) by the way.” You held your hand out and was impressed with the grip his handshake had. “Speaking of, I should probably get back to the house. Before he sends out the search parties that is." Turning back towards your home, you threw a quick comment over your shoulder. “Hope to see you around."
This left a flustered Guillermo to rush back inside. Pushing the crew away from his flush expression, he made for his master's room. Placing the letter down on a nearby dresser. He left for his own room. To definitely not think about how great it would be to have someone outside of the vampire house.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nandor was restless. Something was causing his slumber to constantly be interupted. That something happened to be a scent. The moment it entered his room he couldn't settle down. But his internal clock knew it was nowhere near sundown. So he tossed and turned, enduring the distraction.
“Morning Master.” Came the timid voice of Guillermo.
Before he could approach the coffin, Nandor burst from it. His glowing eyes searched the room. Taking deep breaths, he felt like a hound seeking out his prey. Following his nose he found a letter addressed to himself. Tearing it open, he rummaged for the source of the smell. Only to find that the letter itself was covered in the odor.
“Master?” The familiar glanced nervously at the documentary crew.
His nervous call, made the vampire finally notice that the familiar was in the room.
Gathering his composer, he turned to the other man. “Ah Guillermo, I was just inspecting this letter. Could you tell me why it smells this way.”
He was about to laugh off the notion, it was just a piece of mail. That was until he remembered how it got to the house, you. You had hand delivered the letter. He cringed at the thought of his master sinking his fangs into you. The new neighbor that was taking care of their newly widowed grandfather. So as his master glared expectantly down at him. He decided a half truth would be the best way to keep you safe. “It was delivered this morning. Maybe the post office has a new mailman.”
He towered over his familiar and a smile broke out on his face. “Yes, that must be it. A new person has started working at the postal building.” He placed the letter in his coffin. Trying and failing to be subtle about it. “Keep an eye out for this postal person. They may be more interesting than they lead on.”
“OK Master. Did you have anything planned for today.” Glancing at the crew He hoped the subject change would distract the vampire. At least enough to keep your name from spilling out of his mouth.
“Yes. I would like to look at horses. So I will need you to set up the light box.” With a flourish of his cape, he walked out of the room. A very relieved human following after.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Taking a long swig from your water bottle, you wiped the sweat from your brow. The feeling of your muscles burning was a pleasant sensation. It was nice having a bit more free time. But the thought of sitting around all day was not the way you wanted to live.
You were thankful for all of the gyms that were a stones throw away from home. It honestly seemed like you couldn't go a couple of blocks without passing a gym. But hey, you weren't going to complain about a convenience.
Finishing out your set, you cleaned the machine. The warmth built up in your limbs made you decide it was time for a cool down. Seeing a few treadmills free, you went to grab a spot. Only to shift paths to the bikes as you spot a familiar face.
Sitting down next to him, you felt bad at how much you seemed to startle him. “Sorry buddy, didn't mean to spook you.” Starting to pedal the exercise bike, you hoped he didn't mind you setting up next to him.
He shook his head. “No, you're fine. Didn't expect to see you here is all.”
“I get that.” A stale silence lingered between the two if you. Thinking that a subject change would ease the tension, you said. “So did Nandor get their letter?”
His shoulders tensed a bit at the mention of his Master. Glancing at you, he saw the gentle expression on your face. He was reminded that you were a regular person. That just seemed as lonely as he felt sometimes. So he nodded and gave you a quick smile. “He did, he got a little excited about it too. You know how older people can be about letters though.”
You nodded. “Oh don't I know it. Everytime my Grandfather gets a personal letter in the mail you would think it was his birthday.”
This confirmed your suspension of Guillermo being in a similar situation as yourself. You had heard from another neighbor that there were a group of people that lived in the house with him. And seeing him do all of the yard work. Well it wasn't like some elderly people could handle those type of tasks. It made you like him even more, knowing that you could have a kinship through caring for others.
So you cycled next to each other and made plans to meet up at the gym more often. You loved the idea of having a workout buddy. While he was relieved that he could spend some time with you, away from the house of course.
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Finishing up another workout, you bid Guillermo a goodnight. No matter how many times you offered him a ride home he always declined. Even as the year settled into winter he still insisted. Something about how a brisk walk was how he preferred to end a workout.
Shaking your head at how odd he could act, you didn't notice the item in your path. Catching yourself on a nearby wall, you looked down. It was a worn out dark wallet. You picked it up to take to the front desk. Only to stop as you notice that Guillermo's license was in it. Walking to the front, you glanced either way down the sidewalk. His curly locks were nowhere in sight. With a shrug, you headed back towards the locker room. It wouldn't be a problem to drop it off to him. Plus it would be nice to meet the Nandor you've heard so much about. But had never had the opportunity to be introduced.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hearing the front door open Nandor narrowed his brow. “Guillermo, come to the library. I wish to to purchase a item and need the plastic card.” The quick patter of footsteps followed the command.
“Coming Master.” Then a pause in his step and the sound of rustling. “Um, do you happen to know where my wallet is?”
Rolling his eyes, the Vampire rose from his seat. Making his way over to the familiar, he scoffed. “Of course not. If I did than I would not have asked you for the card.” Sending a look at the camera, he said. “Fucking guy.”
As the younger man went to tear his room apart, a knock rang through the house. “Could you please get that Master.” Then realizing that that could be seen as a demand he added. “So I can find the credit card for you.”
Throwing a hand over his shoulder, he headed to the entrance. “Very well, but don't expect this to become a regular thing.”
Swinging the door open he paused. He was sure that if he still needed breath to live, it would have caught. You were a beacon of beauty. A vision of soft splendor that he could loose himself in. Then your scent hit him and an indescribable hunger welled within him. A baser urge rose from within himself and he lunged towards you. Not sure what his inner instincts were forcing upon him.
Before you could get a word out, however, your muscle memory took over. Which caused the hand holding the wallet to strike out. Causing Nandor to halt in his movement.
“For fucks sake!” His hands cupped his nose and he was surprised to feel liquid. Pulling a hands back, he couldn't help but admire the blood coating his fingers. Glancing up at you he was taken aback at the compassionate expression on your face.
You quickly took his face into your hands and fussed over him. “I'm so sorry, it was just instinct. I can't believe I hurt you." Tugging a few tissues from you bag. You gently pressed them to his nose.
Even though he knew his vampiric powers had already healed him. He let you take care of him. Your touch was warm and gentle. Your soft hands flitted over his face in a pleasant manner that he could indulge in for hours.
The nose bleed had seemed to stop. Taking a step back,you gave him a nervous smile. “I really am sorry about all this. I just wanted to return Guillermo's wallet.” This caused the mystery man to step towards you.
“Why are you interested in seeking an audience with my familiar?” He had a disgruntled tone.
Brows furrowing at his statement, you repeated yourself. “I wanted to return his wallet. He dropped it at the gym and I thought I would give it to him. I mean it's not like it was out of my way or anything." You gestured to your home and sent him a hopefully pleasant grin.
Narrowing his eyes at the house. He wonder what else his familiar could be keeping from him. “I see, let me call for him.” Facing into the house, he said. “Guillermo, there is a visitor at the door.” Side eyeing the crew, he waited.
You both waited for him to return. Nandor took the time to admire you for a moment longer. While you were excited, yet confused, to learn about your friend's housemates. This honestly wasn't the situation you thought he was living in. Still it seemed that he helped the people he stayed with.
He jogged to the front, but slowed his stride at the sight in front of him. Two of the people he never wanted to meet, standing beside each other. His heart began racing. You being here was as surprising as you not being dead. The way his Master reacted to your scent. He belived if the vampire ever got downwind of you, it would be your end. Instead he was gazing down at you in wonder.
“Hey, I hope I didn't catch you at a bad time.” You sheepishly shifted your gazed to Nandor, then quickly back to him. “I just wanted to make sure you got this.” Holding the wallet out to him, you were happy to see the relief that spread across his face.
Taking it from your hand, he embraced you. “I can't believe you found it. Thank you (Y/N).” Shifting back, he was surprised to see the angry look on his Master's face.
“It's nothing really. You must have dropped it and when I happened to find it outside of the locker rooms. Well, I didn't think it would be a problem to drop it off. Not like it's a long trip or anything.” Grinning you pat his back.
Nandor stepped a bit closer to you. It seemed his familiar had grown close to what should be HIS. He had only known you a few moments. But he felt a possessiveness clawing at his insides. “Yes, she was just telling me about your time together at the gym. It has made my interest in the location grow. I should like to join you at your next session.”
Guillermo's eyes pleaded for you to say no. Knowing you though, there was no way that you would reject someone without a reason.
“Sure, the more the merrier.” Noticing how dark the sky had gotten, you stepped towards the door. “Text me the details Guillermo, I've got to get to my grandfather.”
Both men waved as you left. Each dreading you departure for very different reasons.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next gym trip was an interesting one. You didn't expect Nandor to show up in only a pair of tight ornate pants. But if that was what put him in the mood for a good burn, then who were you to judge. It also didn't hurt that it made it that much easier to observe him. His muscles twitching and veins pulsing. All while he lifted over five time your body weight. Well it didn't take long for the more steamy thoughts of what his muscle could help with.
He was thoroughly enjoying his time with you. It was a nice change to have a workout partner. Watching as you pushed your body and strengthen yourself. It was enough to make him go wild. How could something be so soft yet ferice? If only he didn't have to share you.
“That's great Guillermo, just one more press.” You loved to encourage him. IT always seemed to help him push to new heights.
Noticing the vampire sneer from the corner of his eye, he shook his head. “No. I can't keep going.”
Your smile faultered. He was shaking and his breath was pretty labored. Sliding behind him, you positioned your hands under the barbell. “OK. If you want to burnout, I've got you.” Nodding down at him, you prepared for the worst.
He felt guilty for worrying you. Until he saw his Master holding back a hiss. So he moved the weights and focused on you instead. The only person whose treated him like a human. No, a friend, in a long time. Taking all his frustration out on his muscles.
That is if his sweaty palms didn't slip from the barbell. You caught it, but a sickening pop came from your shoulder. Crying out, you lurched backwards to keep the weight from falling on him.
The vampire sprung into action. One hand pulling the equipment from you. He cradled you against him with the other. Touching your shoulder, he was relieved to see that it only seemed strained. Though his frown deepen at the way your breath hitched. He whipped towards the other man. “You idiot, were you trying to kill her. You know how fragile humans are.”
He barely paid the vampire any mind. “I'm so sorry (Y/N). Are you ok? What am I saying, of course your not.” He began to pace.
You placed a hand on his arm to stop him. “Hey, it's OK. I think it's only strained.” You gave him a reassuring smile. “I'll just have to stick to legs for a bit.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Even after offering to take you to Urgent Care and paying. You still insisted that you were fine. That an ice pack and some sleep would do the trick. That didn't stop the men from escorting you home.
Guillermo rushed into their house, trying his best to ignore his Master. It did little good.
“You are a reckless idiot. How could you let her get injured. You should have let those weights crush you.” He followed him through the house. Pushong passed the crew, irritated. Watching as he rifled amongst his things, the Vampire grew enraged. “Are you even listening to me!”
Swinging around to face the taller man, he was red with anger. “How could I not. Look i know I screwed up. That's why I'm getting my heating pad. Alternating between heat and cold should help her recover faster.” Then he quickly walked to the front door.
Nandor enjoyed the thought of you healing faster. But frown at Guillermo being the one to cause it. “Then we will take it to her together.”
The familiar came to a sudden stop. “No, I'm going to see MY friend. If all of this is my fault, then I should be the one to take care of it.”
Glaring down at the shorter man, he could feel his nail digging into his palms. “That is why I should go. To make sure you don't kill them.”
His face became a blank mask to shroud his emotions. As calmly as he could manage he said. “Actually Master, I think you have a much better chance of taking their life. Now if you don't mind, I have something to see to. Including not worrying about being invited inside her home.” He left swiftly.
A fact that Nandor was both angry and relieved by. Huffing he went to confide in the only man in the house that was successful in love.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Swaying through the air as a bat. He couldn't help but curse at having taken Laszlo's advice. How could he be stupid enough to believe that drinking from intoxicated humans would help. Now he was over thinking what you and his betrayal of a familiar were doing.
Veering away from his own home, he transformed back on your lawn. Stumbling to the front door, he didn't notice the light beginning to spill over the horizon. He called out to you, loudly wailing.
Making your way to the entrance, you were confused why someone would be here so early. That someone being a distraught Nandor was a surprise. Rubbing a hand across your face, you tried to focus on the situation.
He admired how your pajamas fit you. Taking a moment to try to commit the sight to memory. He attempted to throw himself into your embraced. But was halted by the very curse that Guillermo had thrown in his face. “Why must we be torn from each other?”
Staring at the man in bewilderment, you stepped forward. “Nandor, what are you talking about?”
He fell forward and wrapped his strong arms around you. Feeling your soft body fit against him pleasantly. “We are so different. You a human and me a vampire. You care for people, while I only think of them as food. Guillermo is right, I'm not good enough.”
Frowning at his drunken rambling, you heaved him towards your door. “I'm not sure what your getting on about. But why don't I get you some water and on the couch. Come on, let's get inside.”
He wiggled out of your arms, as much as he didn't want to. “No, you should be near me. I'm a monster that could kill you at any moment.” He turned to head home, but shrieked as the first rays of light hit his skin.
Shock ran through you. It felt as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over you. You let instinct take over as you yanked him inside. Flinging the door shut, you went to check over his burns. After seeing they were only minor wounds, you smiled. “OK, so that wasn't just the booze talking.”
“No, I would not lie to you, you are to precious. Even now you have saved a monster like me." He took your hands into his own and leaned forward.
You met his lips in a tender kiss. Pressing your forehead against his own, you took in a shuddering breath.
“Is everything OK? I thought I heard…. oh for christ's sake!” There stood a disheveled Guillermo, a frown tugging at his lips. When he brought you the heating pad earlier he seemed so upset. You decided to invited him to stay over. But with the situation at hand, you didn't consider calling out to him for help. “You couldn't even wait another day to make a move. This is so like you, taking without considering others feelings.”
“Hey that's not fair. She obviously likes me.” Almost falling over himself to stand up and face the other man. “Why must you stand in the way of love?”
The familiar stepped forward and shoved a finger into his chest. “Because you're a killer that falls in love every other month.”
You had stood to the side stunned. You didn't realise the impact you had made on their lives until now. As you thought about it, you knew that you felt the same. It would hurt your heart to not have these men in your life.
Stepping between them, you took a breath to steady yourself. “I'd like a say in this. Being that I am the subject of the fight after all.” Placing a hand on each of their chest, you smiled reassuringly. “I'm a big girl. If I want to be friends with someone. Or date someone, it's my choice in the end.” You gave each of them a pointed look that caused their masculine ego to deflate.
Guillermo was the first to speak. “What if you break up? You won't want anything to do with things that remind you of Nandor…. Including me.”
The desperation in his voice broke your heart. You brought him into a tight hug. “You can't predict what the future might bring. But I can promise you that I don't veiw you as an extension of Nandor. So the chances of me not wanting to be around you aren't happening.”
He sniffled as you seperated. “Thanks, that's reassuring to hear.”
Turning to the Vampire, you patted his chest. “Nandor, I like you, a lot. But let's take things slow. It's obvious that there's still something that we need to learn about one another.”
He gave you a wide grin. “As long as it is time I get to spend with. Then I am happy.”
Guiding everyone to the couch, you made sure they both were comfortable. A simle settled on your face. Settling on top of Nandor and pulling Guillermo onto yourself. A calm washed over your heart. Things may get rocky, but you guys could figure it out together in time.
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fanfic-phoenix · 26 days
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Satine Week 2024 - Day 2: Mother
Rating: General
Word Count: 100
Read on AO3
Warning: Implied/Referenced death in childbirth
She remembered soft hair and a gentle smile.
She remembered soft hair and a gentle smile.  She remembered polished armour and a ready blaster.
She remembered her father’s ready laughter at a quick-fire joke.  She remembered how the piano sounded beautiful and the voice beautifully out of tune.
She remembered being told that somewhere inside was her sister, and that her job would be to look after her, always.  She remembered nodding eagerly, excitedly.
She remembered the buzz of building a nursery, a crib.  Picking toys.
She remembered hushed voices in a hospital room.  
She remembered Bo, wrinkled, crying.  Alone.
Satine remembered her mother.
She didn’t remember much.
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bepisbee · 6 months
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Take me back to eden
based on this post https://www.tumblr.com/c-is-for-circinate/731826400486653952?source=share
“The eyes are the window to the soul, they say. An important part of you. Part of you we brought back haha,” He cupped Shadow’s cheeks in his hands “I am so glad you are here.” Shadow was overwhelmed at the moment in conflicting emotions. “Welcome back.”
Read on Ao3
He was suddenly and painfully, very painfully, aware. Everything was wrong. His body felt too big, he couldn’t get enough air. There were black spots covering the majority of his vision. Shadow's body gasped air into his lungs, retching him upright with the force. Too many things slammed into him at once, his head felt detached from his body and dizzy. If he could see the room would be spinning wildly. Shadow could hear voices but not make out what was being said. Gulping in air fast, then slowly ebbing out to normalcy. It quenched the ache in his chest. The burning sensation faded. Someone was gripping his left hand tightly. Something hard and cold was under him. Stone? As he blinked the black blurred into shapes. Tunnel vision faded as his body finally calmed down. He still felt too big at the moment.
“Can you hear me?” A familiar voice was in his ear, soft and concerned. More mature than he last remembered. Was it possible?? Shadow looked over and met his eyes at last. Unique ice blue as sharp as glass filled his vision. Until it got blurry with tears. There would never be any mistake whose eyes those were. His heart thumped loud in his ears as blood rushed back into his system. Something in the eye contact was beginning to bring up a fight or flight response.
Shadow had a feeling it wasn’t to do with his sudden consciousness.
Vio sat next to him on a hard cold stone floor. Hand interlaced with Shadow’s clawed fingers. Shadow nodded at him yes to the question. Vio being the first sight since he’d died, it made him breathless. It was almost enough to shake off the strange chill that ran up his spine when he met his gaze. Something putting goosebumps and hairs on end in an unfamiliar way. At least the feeling of running from immediate danger had gone away.
“Hey.” Shadow’s voice was rough and dry. His lips stuck a little when he opened them to speak. A shorter version of Vio, wearing a red cat shirt, handed over a glass potion bottle. He took it gratefully. After chugging the refreshing liquid magic he finally realized who was all around him, his senses coming back but by bit. Kneeling down was Red, who gave him the potion. Green, a little ways back standing up. Blue halfway between, watching. He couldn’t read their expressions from here. Vio. His beautiful Vio. His dry lips split as he smiled to his eyes. Shining bright and pretty as ever. Vio melted.
“The eyes are the window to the soul, they say. An important part of  you. Part of you we brought back haha,” He cupped Shadow’s cheeks in his hands “I am so glad you are here.”
Shadow was overwhelmed at the moment in conflicting emotions.
“Welcome back.”
Shadow was now sitting on a large old jean blue couch. Its cushions restuffed (overstuffed) to pure comfort. The small home was new to him of course. As was everything inside it. It had been a few days since he woke up and things had been a roller coaster. After some serious private conversation with Vio, they had decided on a trial relationship. There were many things to air out between them and trust to rebridge. Shadow tucked himself up, knees underneath like a cat loaf. He was wearing Vio’s ratty black hoodie. He had said it was a five “ex el” so it was ginormous on them both. Shadow had a lot to learn about the world. It had been interesting enough when he barely saw it but now that he had the time? Technology amazed him, as limited as they had right now.
Vio had explained they owned a cottage in Faron Woods. Well he did anyways. The others lived in Hyrule City, where they could walk to work at the castle. They had rebuilt and recovered quite well. Shadow hummed in thought, looking down at the bowl of stew in his hands. It has been ten years so it wasn't surprising life was normal again. Vio claimed to be a potion curator. Creator, herbalist, and magic influencer. He seemed hesitant to talk in detail about it.
Steam rose up from the bowl. Shadow needed to get used to this whole eating thing. The others were currently working on projects, (Blue and Green), cooking, (Red, who had woken him for this delicious smelling meal) or somewhere. He wasn't actually sure where Vio was at the moment.
He had been getting a nagging feeling they weren’t telling him something. Everyone on the surface was smiling, laughing, talking, and teaching. There was something in it though. Smiles that didn’t quite reach their eyes, nervous glances at each other when they don't think he’s looking. Not to mention how cold he felt down his spine when making eye contact with Vio. Shadow had been doing his best to put it aside. How would he even ask something like that without making it sound bad?
“ -ot feeling stew or too hot?” Shadow jumped, startled at Vio’s sudden voice. Speak of the devil.
“Ha sorry.” He laughed it off. He genuinely was happy to see him. “Just thinking about you actually,“ he put the bowl down on the coffee table in the middle and patted the seat next to him. Vio sat, one long graceful leg over the other. A strange chill filled the air again.
“What've you been up to? I couldn’t find ya.” Shadow leaned against him barely. Vio leaned back. They were still learning each other's boundaries and touch starvation made things complicated on both ends.
Shadow’s skin felt warm and tingly where they made contact.
“I’m sorry, I got lost in some research. You know me and books.” He nervously tucked some hair behind his pointed ear. A habit he had picked up a while ago.
“Down in your super secret locked basement of doom?” Shadow teased. It had 5 deadbolts and a magic seal. His memory of waking up was hazy enough he knew it was downstairs, but not much else about it.
“There’s dangerous equipment and ingredients. Red spilled something once and burned a hole in the floor.” Vio smiled fondly. “I’ll spend all of tomorrow with you, to make up for it.” the blonde hesitated a little before running a hand through his purple locks. “How about a little bath? I have these soap things that we call bath bombs.”
“Bath bombs??” Shadow perked up. He liked explosives.
“You put them in water and they… well you’ll see it.” Vio chuckled at his excitement. “They are surprisingly easy to make…” he began talking about how to make the soaps, scents, and compress it. Shadow sort of listened. The longer he sat close to Vio the more he noticed the slightly off smell. Not bad or stinky necessarily, just different. Usually it was his lavender soap, maybe some incense. Today it was different. It reminded him of the dark world portals he used to plague the world with. Strange herbs and weird fire. Shadow mentally shook it out of his head. There was no way. He must just be thinking about the past too much.
Shadow helped clean up some dishes, much to his grumbling. Red claimed it was to help him get better with helping people. While he was washing, hands all full of soap he had an idea. He grinned and slowly snuck up behind the red hero bubbles a plenty. Just as he was about to prank he noticed: the distant look. Red’s eyes were flat, plain, no light. Just staring off creepily. An offset frown on his face. It was the first he had ever seen a frown on Red, even during their adventure. Shadow paused for too long getting his attention.
“O-oh! Sorry! Did you need something?” Red went back to his cheery self but it was empty. Shadow shook his head and went back to the sink. That really weirded him out.
“I'm going to go to bed soon, I think Vio said for you to meet him in the bath when you were done? G'night shadow! ~’
“Alright!” He called back to his retreating form. “Erm- thanks!” Shadow remembered. They had tried to teach him about politeness. Whatever was going on with them he did not want to rock the boat.
Shadow kept replaying the odd scenarios over and over. He finished setting all the dishes on a drying rack and let the water go down the drain. “Fuck. I’m sure it’s just me…” shadow took a deep breath and headed over down the hall. It started smelling very strong like soap and herbs.
He gently opened the bathroom door. No he did not open the wrong door first and blush about it, thank you very much.
Vio was waiting for him, reading while sitting on a counter. “Ah! Hey,” he put it away. “Good timing.” The bath was luxurious! A giant tub that you feel the warm water of making the room humid. He handed Shadow a small chalky ball that was purple and dried but with something inside. Flower petals?? 
“Hey,” Shadow looked it over and was about to lick it.
“Do not!” Vio laughed. “You put it into the water.”
“I know!” Shadow flushed. He did not know. He stepped over and put it in. It seemed to spark to life. The tiny ball started fizzing and rolling around in the hot tub water. “Woaaah!” It started to turn it into a deep purple color that sparkled. The tiny petals floating at the top. It smelled of lilac and honey.
Vio put a hand on his shoulder. “If you step in, I’ll wash you?” Vio looked a bit uncomfortable and vulnerable. This was a big step for them. This almost felt more intimate than some of the things he’d read in Vio’s secret book stash.
Shadow did as told. Thankful Vio had turned around while he derobed. He almost missed the cute blush on his face. The blonde only turned around when he heard Shadow stop moving. “This is so warm!” He sank into bliss. Vio knelt down by the edge and rolled up his sleeves. It was almost scandalous. He never showed any skin afterall. There were some battle scars but not anything that seemed too concerning.
They spent the next while talking while Vio washed his hair and showed him to clean up. As peaceful and serene this moment was, an anxiety formed in his gut. Shadow tried to push it down but it just would not go away. Vio seemed to be the only color fully presently aware when making eye contact. That was almost worse. It felt intense, like a predator about to strike. And he knew that feeling, for Hylia’s sake he had a dragon! Shadow’s shoulders remained tense.
“It’s alright if this is too much for you,” The ever observant Vio noticed. “I can stop-”
“No! No- I uhhh…” shadow raised his wet hands up. “I'm just not used to this sorta thing!”
“If you're sure… I think it’s probably time to get out and dry anyway. The water is turning cold.” Vio stood up. “There's a plug in the bottom can you reach? You just pull it out.” He turned to grab a fluffy towel from the small cupboard. Shadow leaned down and did so. A sharp spike of fear struck his back upright afterwards for showing his back to Vio. But when he looked, he was still in the cupboard fiddling until he found a black towel. Shadow let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and stood up carefully. He was warned the water was slippery.
Shadow took the offered towel and dried up, the wrapped it around his waist haphazardly. He had no idea what he was doing and the panic was rising as much as he tried to bottle it up. Something wasn’t right. It was awkwardly quiet on the walk to their room. Him and Vio shared since there were only two in the small cottage. The others were sharing the guest room and rotating who slept on the couch.
They changed into pajamas avoiding eye contact. Shadows of course was just some of Vio’s old clothes. When he brought up shopping (stealing really) something for his own it was shut down hard. Faster than reasonable honestly. More so about going into the city. Shadow supposed it was reasonable, he did terrorize them after all. But it had also been ten years since, and surely no one would question their heroes?
They slipped into the bed and eventually Vio fell asleep.
It had been very hard for Shadow to sleep next to him. At first he thought it was lingering feelings over Vio’s betrayal. He was sure that was still part of it. But not all.
It must have been well past midnight when Shadow snuck up. Careful not to disturb Vio, he crept downstairs. He needed to know. He wrapped the loose long edges of Vio’s sweater around his palms in comfort as he slowly walked to the basement door. Tunnel vision prevented any other thought. Need to see, need to know. He reached up and undid all the locks. It was just his pure luck that this night Vio had forgotten to reseal the magic. Maybe it was him sitting on the couch? Or a slip of carelessness. It didn’t matter. The door opened. It was darker than the abyss that had trapped him so many years.
His mind whirled back to that first day. Less than a week ago now, that still felt like years. Just out of reach. It smelled the same as Vio had when he approached earlier. Like dark magic.
Shadow took each step down slowly, unsure in the darkness. Feeling the walls as he went for any sort of switch or even a candle. He found one at the base of the steps. It flickered the overhead light in a dingy barely lit yellow. It flickered and buzzed. The room of course was made of stone, as most basements were. There was a small white container in the corner, shelves upon shelves of things, a cauldron in the middle. Jars of specimens, parts, preserved roots, all things that would seem normal for an alchemist to have, lined the shelves and table. It was creepy but not out of the ordinary. He noticed drag lines near the bookshelf. Way to make your secret liar obvious, Vio. He smiled a little. It gave him nostalgia. As he pulled aside the shelf he found another room. There was no stash or storage. It looked savage and It all came back to him at once. This was the room he woke up in. He could feel the unnaturally cold hard floor. It was a giant mirror surface, or at least appeared to be. Shiny inky blackness of a dark mirror on the floor. A circle with some kind of writing he didn’t recognize the language of sat in the middle. He had enough experience to know that it was dried blood that spelled out whatever ritual he had been part of. Shadow’s whole body felt cold. This entire room, the second he stepped into it, felt absolutely utterly wrong. He had been in the presence of evil, hells he was evil until very shortly to the end of his life! This was something darker. More malicious. The floor under him swirled about not acknowledging his presence.
A sharp chill shocked his spine. Something was wrong. He felt watched. That first instinct he had had on this floor: the fight or flight. It was kicking in and he was freezing instead.
In hindsight, VIo thought, he should have double checked the door as he usually did. Tonight he was just so ecstatic that Shadow seemed more reciprocating to his touch and advances. He just didn't think about it. His revived partner was happy, warm, in his clothes. Vio’s breath came quicker now, looking around. Shadow wasn’t in bed, wasn’t in the bathroom, or the kitchen. Options to where he could be were running slim and he didn’t like the odds. He glanced over now, at the partially ajar basement door. Shit.
Shadow meanwhile looked around in paranoia. He shuddered and when he turned to look again from the corner of his eye he saw eyes watching him inside the mirror. He quickly faced them as they disappeared. Whose were those?? It happened again. Lingering longer than last time. Three pairs stayed this time. He couldn't look away. It was Link. Or well, his parts anyways. Something clicked for him.
He wasn’t sure why but something Vio had said to him after waking up.
“The eyes are the window to the soul, they say.”
What had he done?
As true panic began to set in, making him hyperventilate, a sudden force knocked his world into blackness.
Shadow woke up the next  morning with a minor headache and a start. “Ha! Whuh??” He looked around. His movement woke a bleary-eyed Vio in the process.
“Huh? Whas?” Vio mumbled rubbing his eyes and sitting up. “Ok?”
“Oh.” Everything felt fine. He was exactly where he had been the night before. Vio was where he had been when he fell asleep. Fell asleep?? When did he fall asleep?
“Are you alright Shadow? You were kicking in your sleep, was it a nightmare? I’m sorry, maybe I should have woken you… but I’ve read it’s better to let nightmares sort themselves out…” Vio sleepily supplied. Shadow started. A nightmare…. Of course! That’s why his brain was foggy about what he saw. There was no way the other colors would have let Vio make a giant floor dark mirror in his basement, let alone sacrifice their own souls to bring him back.
“Sorry. I… I don’t even really remember what it was about now.” He laughed nervously. Vio did not catch onto his lie. “Can we have some of that tea? The Sharp one.”
“Chai?” “Yeah! Ch eye!” Shadow beamed at him, once again stuffing down his body response. Vio smiled back and got up. “I’ll be right back then.” He left to go downstairs.
Shadow let out his breath, his body still tensed up. He knew exactly what happened. He knew it was no dream or nightmare. Maybe one day he would be willing to accept that.
A thought occurred to him though, as VIo left the room. He didn’t remember seeing Green after the first day in the basement. He didn’t remember seeing Blue on the couch where he was supposed to be sleeping last night. He couldn’t hear Red humming from the kitchen today…
Downstairs, the door had a new magical seal on it. This time, to keep anything in rather than out.
Vio glanced only briefly at it, before heading back upstairs. He needed to make sure Shadow couldn’t see them anymore after all. He brought up the tea where Shadow was waiting.
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icarustica · 1 year
Note
u said u could make the last prompt angstier. do it i dare u
77 - "you were my best friend" round 2 electric boogaloo
(this one is actually on my archive page i'm very proud of it thank u anon for pushing me to finish it)
tw - implied major character death (none actually occur)
♥♥♥ sorrow ♥♥♥
“Listen, we’re out of wine, alright? The–the fucking besotted ladies who were all swooning over that fuckin’ bard bought us out, alright? The last I’ve got is this cheap Redania and that won’t… okay. Sure, I got it!” yelled the cook from across the bar. 
Geralt, midway through drinking himself into oblivion, blinked owlishly, looking up.
Bard.
He’d found himself in Lettenhove, chasing after a lone drowner traveling up the Sinet river. It ravaged every fishing operation it came across, and Geralt figured once the bastard was dead he’d have fishermen practically throwing coin his way.
“Uh-huh. And of course the flashy boy’s got a whole procession and everything,” scoffed the cook, once he’d snatched the last bottle of cheap wine from underneath the counter. “Everyone all dressed up. Throwin’ flowers. Singin’ that song about that witcher.”
Geralt rose.
The cook looked, and his ruddy face paled. His tirade stumbled to a stop.
“The bard,” Geralt said gruffly. “Jaskier?”
The cook nodded, suddenly solemn. “Y-Yes,” he said. To his credit, he wasn’t afraid. Just… nervous, for some reason. “That’s the one. Our own hometown hero.”
Geralt’s mildly tipsy mind raced.
Why would Jaskier be back in Lettenhove?
Why would there be a celebration in his honor?
His mind landed on the only possible answer.
Marriage. The damn bastard had gone and got married.
The wine - ladies who’d desired Jaskier throwing themselves into alcohol. The procession, the flowers - a celebration fit for a lord.
“Of course,” Geralt grumbled, taking the last swig of his tankard. Misery clawed at his gut - all the unsaid words. All the said ones, the terrible ones spoken in biting mountain air. The one I’d been lucky enough to care for… gave up on me.
Geralt swallowed, lashes fluttering as he turned. He gave up on me.
“Witcher,” called the cook as Geralt walked to the door.
He paused, turned back, and met the cook’s suddenly soulful brown eyes. The cook shifted, still clutching the wine. “If you want to find him… Appleshon hill.”
“When?”
The cook’s brows furrowed. He shrugged. “Any time you like.”
Geralt walked up the hill - steep, with just a sparse cobblestone path to guide him. On the way, he was stopped by an old woman with a cane. One of her eyes was milky blue. “Witcher,” she said.
Geralt bowed his head a little. 
“Where are you going?”
“To see Jaskier,” he replied. “The bard. I suspect there was some big fuss about him around here recently.”
She looked at him kindly, then toddled forward, reaching far upward to card her hand through his hair. She inspected it with the eye that worked, then nodded, seemingly satisfied. “You are his witcher, then.”
“I suppose.”
“You suppose?”
He felt that sinking in his chest again, the unpleasant ache. “I don’t think he’s calling me his anything nowadays.”
“Hm.” Her gaze turned sad. “I suppose.”
And, without another word, she pressed a bouquet of scraggly wildflowers into his hands. Dandelions. Daisies. Little purple things Geralt didn’t know the name of. He swallowed the lump in his throat, eyes firmly trained on their scattered leaves as the old woman turned away.
What a lovely gift, for a lover.
What a dismal apology.
He continued on his way.
Again, he was stopped, this time by a tall man dressed in black, with a large leather satchel. His face was drawn, gaunt. “Ho there,” he called. “Witcher.”
Geralt nodded, slid his eyes away, fully intending to keep going up the hill - he could see the crest now, the shambling stone wall dotted with ivy. Ten minutes, maybe five, and he would be there, closer to Jaskier than he had been in years.
He ran over his speech in his head - all the small things to say, all the large ones to hint at.
“Witcher,” called the man again, voice rough and broken. One dark eyebrow cocked. “What business do you have here?”
“Visiting a friend,” Geralt replied with a sigh, turning to face the other man on the path. 
“No monster-slaying?”
“No.”
“Ah.” The man cocked his head. “Say, if you were ever in the mood to kill a monster, and wanted it remembered… well, I noticed your bard has gone rather into retirement.”
Geralt winced.
“Too soon? Sorry,” the man chuckled, in his gentle timbre. “Well. I’m a writer, not a bard. My name’s Hoid - in case you’ve heard of my work. Perhaps the witcher would like to try stories instead of songs?”
For some reason, anger welled up in his belly. Geralt quieted it with a long breath, in and out. He assessed the man again, from the silver on his shoes to the black stubble on his chin. By all rights, he should have liked this man more than Jaskier - the easy way he talked, the simplicity of his clothing, the wickedness of the knife at his hip…
But it wasn’t Jaskier. It wasn’t his fucking bard. 
“No,” Geralt growled. “Never.”
The writer tilted his head forward in a single nod of acknowledgement. “I understand. Goodnight, witcher, and good luck.”
Geralt watched the man’s back for a long time as he made his way back down the cobblestone hill. 
The door was made of wood. And even Geralt, at his considerable height, could not see over the stone wall. He swallowed the lump in his throat, preparing himself for whatever may lay beyond it –
Jaskier, incensed. Yelling. Screaming at Geralt, ripping his paltry flowers to shreds.
Jaskier, happy. Having forgotten Geralt and his dirt and monsters years ago.
Jaskier…
Geralt swallowed, hand clenched around the wildflowers. He ran through his speech again, through the careful words that had given him the strength to climb those last few steps. Summoning courage, he pushed open the thick wooden gate.
Headstones.
Geralt blinked, and suddenly things seemed to move in slow motion - the crashing of an ocean miles away. The birds circling one bare tree. The headstones all dotted in a row, a tomb or two along the side of the gray wall.
He swallowed, feeling like the continent’s worst fool.
Time moved like a dream. He walked along the headstones, every running word in his mind frozen. He let the heads of the wildflowers scrape the top of the stones, reading name after name, hoping, praying, for something he was too terrified to name.
Nordand Allsor - A Loving Father
Ophela Dart - When The Wind Moves The Tree, Think Thee of Me
Stormund Brekker - Lover, Took Too Soon
Jaskier
Geralt’s mind almost didn’t register it. The last in the row, nestled beneath a tree. He stood there for a long moment, expression blank as he read it, over and over again.
JASKIER.
Bold letters.
Geralt knelt, knees thudding in the dirt. How could he have thought it was a wedding? The flowers, the sad looks, the sudden kindness to a witcher - it couldn’t have been anything else. Jaskier would not be in Lettenhove otherwise. Except to be buried.
Geralt shoved his hand in the dirt, some animal part of him wanting to dig up the fresh earth, needing to touch him, to hold him, to cradle him in his arms and–
He let out a shaky breath, feeling the cool earth in his fingers. Most of him couldn’t believe it, that his bard had gone and died without him.
Geralt slammed the flowers right below the headstone.
His chest shook.
It felt like–
It felt like Jaskier himself was trying to climb his way out of Geralt’s stomach and into his throat.
The thought of it almost made him laugh, the memory of Jaskier’s voice when it became panicked. How ridiculous the man was. The next time Geralt saw him, he’d tell him–
It thudded into him again. A relentless realization, a chain reaction of simple things, the simple fact that he was now a memory, just some man. Geralt imagined fifty years down the road, when he was old and slow and he would have to tell his brothers about the time he had a friend. The time when someone loved him.
“Fuck,” he said, and it shocked the silence away. Now he could hear his own shallow breathing, hear himself tremble, his heart thudding away in his ears. “Fuck.”
His speech.
He’d had a speech.
“I’m sorry,” he started, because that was the beginning, wasn’t it? That had always been the beginning, when he’d imagined this, Jaskier in front of him, gold and alive and sweet and gentle and tough and angry–
“Fucking hell,” he spat at himself. He rubbed his eyes with the hand not grasping at the dirt. He sat up, shakily breathing, trying to find some semblance of composure. He held onto his meditation with a white-knuckled grip, feeling his own spine shake like a tiny dog. He trembled, but he did not break.
He owed him that.
He owed Jaskier dignity.
“I owe you a lot,” he said. “I owe you my life, certainly.” He swallowed. “Friendship. Coin, probably. I think when you… when you left, off that mountain, I took some of your coin with me.” He grabbed his coin purse, and with shaking hands pressed all the gold coins he had into the dirt. “There,” he said. “I…”
He had to pause. To allow his racing heart to return to his body, to let his clouded mind settle on the dirt and the stone in front of him. The sky rumbled, unhappy with his meager apologies.
“I think, though, we both know our friendship is a lot more than an exchange at this point,” he continued, and the words cut up his throat. “I’m truly sorry, Jaskier, for everything I…” he trailed off as he stared at the headstone. 
JASKIER.
He reached forward to press his thumb into the indents. “You were my best friend,” he confessed, and the wind howled and tears pricked at his face. “In the whole world. The whole damn world. And I know it’s too late,” he added, hoarse. “Far too late. I should have been there to protect you, but I was a fool, Jask, I was a fucking bastard to you and I…”
He hung his head. “I wish I could be better to you,” he said, raw. “Give you things you deserve.”
Geralt swallowed.
“You deserve… me. If you want me.”
“Geralt?”
His eyes flew open, staring at the dirt.
Not a good time to start imagining things, Geralt.
“Melitele, I–”
Geralt turned his head, eyes widening, and–
There he was. Dressed in simple, plain clothes, a string of red around his neck, scruffy and long-haired but smelling of wildflowers and chamomile and apples–
Jaskier put a hand over his mouth.
There was a moment of silence, as Geralt, on his knees, felt his heart slow, then quicken, as shock thudded through him again. 
“I can explain,” said Jaskier quickly, holding up a hand. “Those were very nice words, okay, I just–I didn’t want to interrupt, it looked like you were having a moment–”
Geralt stood on admittedly shaky legs, looking at him, just…
He was alive.
The embarrassment of the moment was overshadowed by the beating heart he could hear over the wind.
One moment he had stood, the next he’d wrapped his arms around Jaskier’s very warm, very alive body, pressing his face into the space between Jaskier’s shoulder and his neck. He breathed him in, only briefly wondering if he was allowed this, allowed this contact, before Jaskier’s hands gripped him back.
“Now, listen,” said Jaskier carefully after a moment. “There was a very nasty escapade involving my mother wanting me back to rule over Lettenhove. I had to fake my death. It was really quite an adventure but I can see how you sobbing over my grave–”
Geralt grumbled, deep in his chest. “Not sobbing.”
“Practically sobbing. Really close, in fact.”
Geralt leaned back, and held Jaskier’s chin in his hand, feeling that pulse again. Alive, alive, alive. “Weeping,” he said very seriously.
Jaskier laughed, blue eyes twinkling. Then they faded. “Wait. You’re serious. Geralt, I’m fully prepared to forget what I just saw if you want me to. I swear, even the part about you owing me your life–”
Geralt brushed his hair out of his face. “Don’t joke. I was mourning,” he said, and his voice was still rough. “I never want to mourn you again.”
“Oh,” breathed Jaskier, soft as a whisper. “Well, that’s very–”
Geralt kissed him, soft as anything.
-♥icarusty
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nights-flying-fox · 1 year
Text
finding your stellar association
Moving Group, also called a Stellar Association.
A loose grouping of stars which travel together through space.
On their first trip to Earth, the brothers find a lost part of their family.
✨️ Click here to read on AO3 ♡
🌙 Celestial AU by @ashwii
☄️ 2,916 words || rottmnt au
☀️ based on/inspired by this ask
 "I don't think this is working." Raph whispered.
 "You kidding? This is working just fine!" Leo replied.
 "I'm pretty sure people noticed something's off." Raph said, glancing around.
 "Relaaaax big guy, just enjoy our trip in the city that never sleeps." Leo said in a laid back manner.
 Raph sighed but said nothing more as Leo stepped forward, taking the lead and turning to face his brothers as he walked backward. "Raph, please, if someone had suspected anything, we wouldn't be walking around freely like that." He pointed out. "Also even if they did, we'd still be fine. We're immortal!"
 "Somewhat immortal." Donnie corrected him without looking away from the scenery around them. The skyscrapers and the giant screens with bright lights had magnified Donnie. They never had the chance to see them like this from their home. Though Leo understood his enthusiasm and shared it a bit, he was still bitter seeing the light pollution.
 "It's almost the same thing." Leo shrugged. "What matters right now is our perfect surprise to April."
 "We'll blow her mind!" Mikey exclaimed as he jumped by Leo's side. He wrapped one arm around Leo's shoulders and began walking backward as well.
 "Definitely, her expression will be priceless." Leo grinned.
 Raph swiftly scooped them up, holding them from their shells with ease, while being careful to not rip their clothes. He didn't want to lose time by going through another search for clothes that would fit and hide their... well, whole situation. "Will you two stop walking so carelessly? You'll trip and fall into a sewer or something." He scolded them. "This isn't space, this is New York."
 "Thanks for the reminder, Raph."
 He glared at Leo, knowing well he could see Raph's expression even though shadows covered his face thanks to his hoodie. Without thinking twice, he dropped Leo and kept walking with Mikey in his left hand.
 While Leo yelped, Mikey cheered, "Free ride!"
 Donnie ignored his twin as he kept walking, other than snorting at his fall. "Raph, are you sure we're on the right track?" Then he asked, eyes still glued to everything around them.
 "Yeah, I have seen her walking to her apartment. More than once." The eldest replied, thinking of the days he'd try to make his friend's tiring days better with the perfect sunny weather.
 "I know, and I saw her walking to her apartment too during some nights-"
 "Don't underestimate yourself, Dee. We all know it's not just nights but days too, as our dear insomniac brother." His twin cut him with a smirk.
 "Shut up, Leo." Donnie glared at him. "You are as guilty as I am. Anyways, what I was saying is that seeing the planet like this" -he gestured at himself to emphasize his point- "is much different than the way we watched this planet from up there."
 "I know, but trust me we're not lost." Raph said.
 "I trust you, Raph, but I was thinking maybe using public transport for our favors wouldn't be bad." Donnie offered.
 Ah, so this is what he actually wants, Raph thought. "We're not using the subway."
 "But Raph-"
 "We can explore human things later." Raph stated. "Our priority is finding April. Then we can do whatever we want."
 Donnie huffed but didn't say anything else. He had gotten distracted by something else once again quickly. Raph kept an eye on him, just like how he kept an eye on Leo and Mikey too. This was their first time on Earth's surface, so it was better to be careful. Something his brothers were not good at doing. He constantly had to be sure that Donnie didn't steal something that caught his attention, Mikey didn't accidentally trip and fall, and Leo-
 Raph gave a startled yelp with the sudden weight on his shell. He turned quickly, only to see Leo. "What in the name of Venus are you doing on my back?"
 "Simple, I wanted a free ride too." Leo answered as if it was the most normal thing ever. "No fire shell means possibly perfect traveling spot."
 "Is it comfortable?" Mikey asked.
 "Yep." Leo answered.
 "I bid for the next shell ride." Mikey announced.
 Raph rolled his eyes. Leo's weight was barely noticeable now. He kinda liked it, even. It wasn't like he could hold his brothers close before, and just like Leo mentioned, his shell wasn't on fire, and he wasn't ablaze like in his actual form-
 His eyes grew with realization.
 Raph, the celestial being and protector of the Sun, could hug his brothers with no issue like this.
 And his first victim was Donnie. He pulled Donnie into a hug with his free arm, causing his brother to yelp with confusion. He also pulled Mikey into a proper hug. The two brothers looked at him confusedly, while Raph smiled widely. Leo had a knowing smile on his face and wrapped his arms around his big brother's neck.
 "What's happening?" Donnie asked, trapped in Raph's arms.
 "That's called hugging, Donnie." Leo informed helpfully.
 "I know that, I don't understand why now we're hugging."
 "Because this hug is different." Raph said happily. "No eclipse, no melting, no burning."
 Donnie and Mikey's faces lightened up with realization.
 Mikey immediately wrapped his arms around Raph's arm, "You're a genius!" he exclaimed. Donnie gave an offended gasp, and Leo laughed with joy. He wasn't sure if the happiness was simply because he enjoyed his brothers' antics or because of Raph's infectious (literally, considering how Leo could feel his emotions sometimes) joy.
 They had forgotten they were standing on the pavement until someone bumped at them. To be fair they were taking the back streets to be sure no one noticed them, hiding in the shadows. And yet, Raph looked down only to be met with a really short person.
 "Oh, pardon me." Raph apologized, stepping back. He didn't notice the trash bins behind him, which he (and his brothers) fell into.
 The stranger only could watch as the boys immediately squirmed out of the trash pile. Leo's face was in disgust, Donnie looked like he was going to throw up, and Mikey casually shook all the trash off him. Raph groaned at the smell, "April will not like this surprise." 
 They all seemed to have forgotten about their disguise and about the stranger until they heard a weak whisper:
 "My sons?.."
 The brothers, with a mix of panic and confusion, suddenly remembered the stranger. After a second of silence, "Excuse me, what?" Leo asked.
 "How... what..?" The man whispered again, looking as confused as they were.
 "Sir, I think you're mixing us up with someone else." Raph said, trying to stay calm.
 "Definitely, with some other teenagers with greenish skin-" Donnie started but couldn't finish when Leo elbowed and glared at him. "-which is certainly because of all of this trash. Definitely." Donnie quickly added, trying to save the situation. 
 "You're turtles." The stranger stated.
 "See, you ruined everything." Leo glared at Donnie. 
 "It's you who doesn't have his hoodie anymore." The twin with the purple moon-themed hoodie retorted.
 Leo gasped and looked at himself, realizing that Donnie was right.
 Mikey giggled while Raph tried hard to not push them back to the trash bin.
 "You..." The small man's whispers turned to soft sobs, gaining their attention again.
 Now, they may be celestial beings in disguise of mortals (kind of) with great power, but when it came to comforting a stranger, the only thing the boys could do was stare at him or look at each other in hopes someone knew what exactly to do.
 In short, they didn't know what to do. 
 Mikey walked towards the man, putting a hand on his shoulder, "There, there..." he said comfortingly. Then turned to his brothers in a scolding manner, "I can't believe you guys made an old man cry!"
 "O-old man?!" The stranger stuttered in an offended way, turning his head to face Mikey.
 That was when Mikey saw that the man was not exactly a man, but a rat... rat-man? He gasped, "OMIGOSH ARE YOU LIKE US?"
 "What do you mean like- IS HE A RAT?" Raph said, maybe a little too loudly, once he joined Mikey's side.
 Both were hit in the face with the rat-man's tail. "You boys need a lesson on manners." He scolded as he wiped his tears. Then he smiled softly, looking at each of them one by one, "But I think it is right to say I am like you. Sort of."
 "What, no, how? We never heard of another celestial being. We've been around for years! There is no way I or Leo or any of us could miss out on someone else out there." Donnie circled the man, no more uncomfortable around him. Instead, his eyes shined with interest toward the new information and person.
 "Celestial beings? Oh, no, boys. You are wrong." The stranger shook his head with a sheepish smile.
 "Then what are you?" Donnie asked.
 "A mutant."
 "What's a mutant?" Mikey asked this time.
 "Me, and you?"
 "No, we're not mutants. We'd know if we were mutants." Leo said, getting more and more confused by the passing seconds.
 "Then what are you?" The rat-man asked, raising a brow.
 "Uh, celestial beings. Protectors of space stuff." Leo answered. "You know... stars, moon, sun, comets..."
 The stranger looked at them as if they had grown another head. He looked confused, then like he was grieving, and then strangely relieved. Finally, he sighed. "We can talk about it later. Now, I believe I never introduced myself. I am Splinter."
 Raph shook his hand. "I am Raph, this is Mikey," -Mikey waved- "Leo," -Leo smiled- "and Donnie." -Donnie nodded.
 "Nice to meet you, boys." Splinter smiled. Something told Leo that smile hid more emotions. 
 "Since we have met, may you explain why you called us your sons now?" Donnie interrupted.
 All the eyes turned to Splinter, awaiting an answer. He was clearly hurt, but also there was a small piece of joy sparkling in his eyes. "Of course, but it would be better if we talked about it somewhere else." He looked around him. Right, they were still standing on the pavement. "Somewhere safer would be much better."
 For some reason, Raph trusted him. Something about the way he looked at them, the way he talked... it was comforting. Almost familiar. Almost. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I know somewhere we could talk." He said. "A friend... I bet she wouldn't mind."
☆☆☆
 "You brought a stranger?!" April whisper-yelled.
 "I wouldn't call him a stranger." Leo said, looking back at the living room his brothers and Splinter were chilling in.
 "Leo, you literally met the guy half an hour ago!"
 He turned his attention back to her, "Look. I know it sounds weird, but I feel like I know this guy."
 She huffed, leaning on the kitchen counter. "It does sound weird, Leonardo."
 Eugh boy, she's using full names.
 "Maybe he is just a guy you saw while watching Earth on a nice night."
 "No, April, this is different." Leo insistent. "Way too different."
 April looked towards the living room, "I can't believe you manage to come for a visit with a 'trick' you figured out and on your first trip you end up befriending a stranger who calls you his sons and bring him into my apartment ." She looked back at him tiredly. "Have you ever heard of 'stranger danger' by any chance?"
 "Aww, come on April. You're happy that we are here, aren't you? So what if we got company, it's fine." He pulled her into a side hug. "If he does anything bad, we can handle it."
 "If he does anything bad, I am throwing you all out of my window." She stated.
 "Isn't it a bit brutal?"
 "With my bat." She added.
 "Gee, okay, okay." Leo moved away with his hands up. "You win. Now, can we listen to his tale?"
 April sighed, "Alright. Let's hear what rat-man has to say."
 Leo beamed with a wide grin.
 "And you better take a bath, you all stink!" She gagged as they walked towards the living room.
 "Priorities, April. Priorities." Leo sang.
 She rolled her eyes.
 In the living room, Splinter was sipping from the tea April had offered him. A stranger he may be, he still was her guest. Meanwhile, the boys had sat on the couch, facing Splinter, who sat on the chair. There was an awkward quiet in the room, but Leo wouldn't call it an uncomfortable one. 
 "Alright, we all are here and ready." Leo announced, sitting on the couch's arm. April leaned against the wall, standing next to him. "You can start your tale." 
 Splinter took a breath. Then he began talking. He talked about the years he fought as a movie star and then as a Battle Nexus champion (whatever that meant, the boys didn't know). He told them how a yokai- 
 "What's a yokai?" Mikey interrupted, gaining a shush! from the others. Yet Splinter explained to them that the yokai were people who looked similar to them since birth.
 Then he continued to explain that a yokai named Draxum caused the whole mess. "He wanted to mutate… mutate four turtles." Splinter said, words as if they hurt him physically, grimaced. It wasn't hard to guess this memory was painful for him. "You." He gestured at them. "He believed with my DNA, you'd be the perfect warriors. For what, I do not know exactly. I disagreed and fought against him. Things… got out of control pretty fast." He looked down at his hands. There was a moment of silence. None of the boys or April talked, giving him the time to gain the strength to continue. 
 Finally, Splinter talked again, "I ended up like this. A mutant." 
 "And the turtles?" Mikey asked.
 "They… they didn't make it out… alive." Splinter shut his teary eyes tightly. Then he opened them to look at the celestials with a new emotion. "At least, I thought so until tonight."
 "But how can we be them?" Donnie questioned. "It doesn't make sense."
 "I'd recognize you no matter what. I don't know how, but you're them. Even your names, they're the same." Splinter's voice was excited, and he smiled widely. "Raphael, Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo. The names of the four Renaissance painters."
 "You're telling me you named mutated turtles after Renaissance painters?" Leo asked with a smile.
 "Yes, for reasons. But that's unimportant. What is important is, do you know how you got your names?" Splinter leaned towards the boys with determined eyes. He knew he could prove the truth. He had to.
 Leo opened his mouth and then closed it. Noticing he had no answer, he turned to Raph. He was the oldest of them, he'd know this, right? But Raph looked as lost as he was. 
 "I never thought how we always knew our names actually." Raph revealed. "I just knew mine and yours my whole life." 
 "See? And I believe you have some knowledge of fighting, correct?" Splinter asked. 
 April answered instead of them this time, "Surprisingly, they know some fighting moves." Then she turned to them. "You never explained where you learned them or how you ended up with your weapons."
 Raph looked lost once again. "Fighting is more of an instincts thing." He admitted. 
 "But our weapons are inspired by our observation of humans." Mikey chimed in.
 "What even this has to do with all of this?" Donnie turned to Splinter. 
 "Draxum created you using my DNA so he could have the perfect fighters." Splinter explained. "The perfect warriors." He repeated.
 "And you're a fighter, right." Donnie was putting the pieces together, still unbelievingly.
 "See? How else would I know all of that?" Splinter laughed, even though his boys looked uncertain. 
 Until Mikey's face lit up with realization as if he remembered something he had forgotten, a memory buried deep down. Something from a long time ago. "You are the one that wished for a chance for his lost sons." He gasped. Everyone turned to look at him. "Please, give them another chance in life. Let their souls live the life they deserved, and..."
 "... wherever they are, let them be happy." Splinter finished with tears in his eyes once again. "Raphael, Donatello, Leonardo, Michelangelo, my sons." 
 The gap between the silence and loud exclamations was no longer than a millisecond. 
 Mikey ran and hugged Splinter, holding him tightly. Raph was laughing while Donnie smiled and teared up, and Leo was speaking about how he couldn't believe all of this. 
 "First we get a sister," He gestured to April, who in return smiled at him with equal excitement, "and now a dad! What are the chances of this?" 
 "Life's full of surprises." April sang. 
 Leo grinned at her. "It sure is." 
 He suddenly got pulled into the hug with April by none other than the eldest turtle. Donnie was already a part of it, and Leo could see how he seemed to like it. 
 And while none of them said, the boys felt something missing in their lives being filled. They knew the hug was right. Being together with Splinter- their dad!- and April was right. This was right. They knew it.
 That night the stars glowed brighter, and so did the moon. There was an unexpected comet passing by Earth. The next morning the sun had never been this bright and warm, yet not tiringly hot. It was like everything was right. Everything was perfect.
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yewsoup · 1 year
Text
Out of the Corner of His Eye
Words: 4790
Warden Ingo was a strange man. To others, but also to himself. He says words he doesn't know the meaning of. He strikes poses and is habitually loud, as if he often had to yell. He does not fear pokemon. He does not smile, at least not with his mouth. And his eyes glow in the dark.
He's also followed by a chill wherever he goes.
Ever since he visited where he was found, trying to find a clue as to where he's from, he's seen a white figure lurking on the edges of his vision.
The figure likes to stand on Ingo's right side, walking alongside him, unless there's something or someone in the way. When he points, he is Ingo's mirror. Doing the same things, but opposite. When he is by his side.
-----
What if Emmet came to Hisui as well? What if he didn't make the trip?
Can also be read Here on Ao3!
Warden Ingo was a strange man. To others, but also to himself. He says words he doesn't know the meaning of. He strikes poses and is habitually loud, as if he often had to yell. He does not fear pokemon. He does not smile, at least not with his mouth. And his eyes glow in the dark.
Nobody knew where he came from. Not even himself. Because Warden Ingo has amnesia. He does not remember where he came from. He cannot return home.
So he made pearl clan his home. Throwing himself into helping to avoid the things he did not tell people about, uncertain how to articulate them without sounding insane.
The dull pain in his chest, as if he was missing something but running anyways. A train engine with missing parts. And... Him.
Ever since he visited where he was found (where he felt a tearing in his chest and came to a stop, staring at nothing, name he was calling dying on his lips), trying to find a clue as to where he's from, he's seen him lurking on the edges of his vision. A white figure. He thinks the figure is a man, something in his heart insists so, despite the figure being too fuzzy to make out details.
He likes to stand on Ingo's right side, walking alongside him, unless there's something or someone in the way. When he points, he is Ingo's mirror. Doing the same things, but opposite. When he is by his side. 
The white figure is the opposite of his black coat and hat. (The ones his heart cries for if he doesn't wear.) And sometimes, Ingo swears he should be wearing them too. In white. But the figure isn't the right shape. Not with it's blurriness. His coat is supposed to flare, the collar, stand up and fold over properly.
He cannot tell if his coat does as well or not.
---
Later, when his coat is torn by the years, and no longer holds itself up at the bottom to flare outwards, he wonders if his coat is torn like this too.
---
Sometimes, he cannot see the figure, and worries. He doesn't know why. The figure can leave. He's seen the figure wander away from him to look at something before. (He's seen him hurry back to his side when he was leaving the area. And a coil that winds, worrying if the figure will leave, relaxes.) 
Ingo isn't even certain if the figure can get hurt. No other person nor pokemon seems to see him at all. He worries if he's imagining the figure, that he is a figment of a broken mind's imagination. 
...
He also worries if he is lonely. He wishes he could help. (The dull ache in his chest tends to grow when he wishes that.) Sometimes he wonders if he can even see him. Or if the figure walks on his own, unknowing of the mirror he walks with.
Ingo picks up the habit, when nobody else is around, to speak his thoughts aloud. (Only when no humans are around. Caliba gave him a funny look and asked him who he was talking to when he accidentally did it in her presence.) The figure seems to enjoy listening to him. He always lingers close when Ingo speaks, but makes no indication he should stop. (So the figure can hear him then.) 
---
The ghost pokemon of the Icelands do not like him. Gaeric thinks it's because of his glowing eyes ("ghosts don't like the light, that's why they haunt at night") that show no matter how dark it is. 
Ingo has other ideas.
(He's seen the way their gazes dart to his right side before they back off. Only the most determined ghosts try to fight him. Lady Sneasler takes care of those.)
He picked up the habit of waving at Ingo to alert him of pokemon that are not ghosts. Allowing him to take action. Because the figure cannot touch him. (His heart cracked when he first realized that. He does not know why.) He leaves Ingo cold when he passes through him. More than once, his hand has gone numb, and his breath puffed cold, from him trying to take it out of habit.
...
He finds he doesn't mind. Even missing it a bit, chest aching just a little more, when the figure realizes he can wave at him. (They see eachother and know it.) And uses that to grab his attention instead.
On particularly tough nights, when he wanders from lack of sleep, or lack of thought, he finds himself thanking the figure for conducting him home safely. He always tips his hat (how does he know he wears a hat) and the grin his heart swears the figure is wearing widens. 
(He knows a voice should be speaking. He cannot hear him at all.)
---
With time on their night walks, he and the figure grow complacent. Lady Sneasler trusts Ingo's pokemon and his reflexes to keep the warden out of danger. (He tried to tell her about him once, pokemon are easier to talk to, but his words still grew tangled in his mouth. He thinks lady sneasler has noticed him anyways, through Ingo's movements.) She does not always come with him on the night walks. The figure does not always stick right by his side.
The figure is not by his side to warn him when Ingo stumbles upon an alpha, tripping over the sleeping pokemon. It woke with a growl. Lashing out. Ingo could not react quickly enough. (He swears he heard someone screaming his name. But he has no idea who.) He does not remember anything after that, before he wakes up in his tent.
His body aches. His skin is clammy. His breath frosts in the air briefly. He hovers over him, worried. (Ingo mutters an apology for scaring him. And the figure relaxes, stepping back.) Slowly, warmth returns to his body, and he goes to attempt to sit up, only to be silently scolded by the figure. (Another apology escapes his lips.) He worried him. He just knows it.
Ingo checks over his side while laying down Instead. Pulling back the blankets to reveal his bandaged side.
He vaguely recalls the alpha. He does not know what happened afterwards.
---
Lady sneasler pokes her head into his tent, and cheers up, before looking back out and calling for someone. 
A few seconds pass. A distant voice speaks.
She climbs into the tent, settling by his side to look him over, churring her scoldings at him for worrying her. 
Melli pokes into the tent not long after. Shooing lady sneasler so he can check Ingo's bandages while he gripes at Ingo for scaring the living daylights out of him, turning up injured like he did. (Ingo did what?)
Later, when he finds out Ingo doesn't remember what happened, he recounts how he awoke from a pained scream in the night, and found Ingo stumbling through the dark. Eyes glowing bright enough to see by, and pale as death, blood dripping down his side.
He touches on how Ingo's breath was frosty in the night. And when Melli called out, Ingo turned, eyes wide like he was terrified, but a smile bared on his face, and whispered a simple "help." Before his eyes rolled back in his skull and he fainted dead on the spot.
Melli didn't know his fellow warden could whisper. (Ingo didn't know either.) And he doesn't admit it, but hearing Ingo whisper was unnerving.
He goes on about how Ingo was freezing to the touch. Like he had been out all night without proper gear for warmth. (He hadn't been.) And how he was lucky Lady Sneasler answered Melli's calls so she could carry him back to his tent.
(Ingo thanks both Melli and Lady Sneasler profusely that day. And he knows he thanks them too. Despite the lack of words.) 
---
He sticks closer to Ingo's side after that. Watching to make sure he doesn't hurt himself. Even on small tasks. (He prevents Ingo's mind from wandering, stopping his grip from slipping and cutting himself. Melli has watched him startle at 'nothing' a few times after that.)
Lady Sneasler and Melli watch Ingo more closely too. Melli checks in with him each day for the following week after the accident. Lady Sneasler refuses to let him leave her sight. She also no longer allows him to walk at night. Ingo thanks them both more. (They rebuke his insistences that they don't need to do this. Both have a soft spot he inadvertently wormed his way into.)
He is grateful for them all. Even if it can be a little overwhelming at times.
(He suspects Melli was quite scared when he found Ingo injured. Melli denies it. But does, let it slip one night, that he'd miss Ingo if he was gone.) 
(Ingo also suspects he's the only one who sits and listens to Melli often. He likes to think they're friends.)
---
Ingo often finds it harder to warm up, with him looming over his shoulder. An icy presence that chills him to the bone. But he finds he doesn't mind it. It's as comforting as it is chilly to have him so close, the dull ache in his chest abating slightly. Even if sometimes, he needs to put a little more effort into warming up.
Irida asks him, one hot summer day in the coastlands, (they were visiting Palina to check in, and help with a nearby alpha that was getting uppity,) how he's managing in the heat despite wearing his coat AND his pearl clan tunic. 
He does not have an answer for her. She just assumes he's used to it, like Palina, and leans into the cool fabric of his coat.
---
Warden Ingo sometimes faces nightmares. 
He never used to remember them. Forgotten worries and traumas. Even if they wracked him with worry and terror. But since the incident, one he can remember joined them. Of getting attacked by a massive alpha pokemon.
Sometimes, it is not the one that attacked him, but instead a massive golden beast. (he never remembers it past the sensation of pain and falling, someone slipping out of his grasp.) And he wakes up sweating, tears welling in his eyes as he cries for someone he does not remember, the loss of a place he no longer knows.
...
His chest is always particularly empty feeling waking up those nights.
---
He is always there those nights too. Rushing over to his side. (His heart pangs every time, he should be the one fretting over him and easing his nightmares. But he cannot do anything but talk to the figure to ease his loneliness.) He dulls the ache in Ingo's chest. Making it easier, even with the haunting, indistinct whispers, that ring in his ears.
The figure never seems to fully know how to help Ingo those nights. He does not know his presence is enough. Or maybe simply does not accept it.
His hugs are ice cold, and leave Ingo frigid, but he loves them anyways.
---
Irida, more than once, has walked in on him shivering in a perfectly warm tent, when Ingo stays in the pearl clan village. He excuses it as feeling cold from nightmares. She does not fully believe him, but he is not lying, he always hugs him after a nightmare now, leaving him ashiver. 
She stops asking after a while. Only making sure he warms up after.
(Nobody in pearl clan brings up the cold that seems to follow the stoic man no matter what nowadays. Neither side realizes the other knows about it. They appreciate Ingo's presence shooing off other ghosts.)
---
Irida thinks Ingo looks haunted in general. His thousand yard stare and lightless glowing eyes sometimes make him appear a ghost himself. 
But he always looks particularly haunted after nightmares. Or when he tries to remember things about his previous life. (She does not know of the white figure that always eagerly leans in, cheering Ingo on, when he tries to actively remember. She does not know his despair of not knowing who he is.) 
She worries about him. But there is nothing she can do, other than offer a gentle touch to wake him from his chilled thoughts. Though she offers a listening ear to him as well, he never takes it. (He has a listening ear in him. He does not need to burden Irida more.)
---
Sometimes, Ingo finds himself wandering the tunnels of wayward cave. The figure of white joins him at his side, and with time, they memorize the tunnels. Walking side by side with him through tunnels having an aching familiarity to it, just as battling does. Yet all he ever gets for trying to remember is a headache. He does not gain understanding into the meanings of the words he says, or the pointing he does, or why he is so comfortable with pokemon and in the belly of caves. 
Whisps of memory slip through his fingers like sand in an hourglass, even as unheard whispers dog his steps. Hints of meaning gleaned when he doesn't think too hard about it.
Maybe if he showed someone through. Maybe if he could find someone like him. Maybe if he could just remember -------!
---
When the space-time rift first opens, lady sneasler bundles Ingo into her den, holding him tightly. It is only when he keeps watch from the cave entrance that Ingo finds himself relaxing in lady sneasler's grip enough to fall asleep.
News does not come up to Ingo's area of the highlands quickly. Even when he can sit and listen to Melli. (He gets a little annoyed when Melli says the frenzies are a gift from almighty Sinnoh. This annoyance later grows. They remain friends anyways, much to the figure in White's bemusement.)
Ingo vows to do his best to help the skyfaller that has been quelling the frenzies through wayward cave, should it be asked of him. (It is, he does, and he does it well. He does not realize he will remember things.)
(He does not realize he will finally hold onto glimpses.)
---
The man in white hovers close when they walk in Jubilife. The skyfaller does not see the figure of same height leaning over Ingo's shoulder. But they do note the slight misting of his breath.
They meet him again outside the training grounds.
The air by him is colder. He is warm in voice, polite in words, but his presence holds the chill of death.
Irida doesn't seem concerned.
She always preferred the cold anyways.
Does she care her warden is a ghost?
(She assures them, when they ask, that he isn't a ghost. But she's pretty sure he's haunted by one.)
---
When Ingo leaves Jubilife, the white spectre lingers slightly. Staring at the skyfaller.
That child knows something.
He hears Ingo speaking to the guard duty, and hurries to catch up. (Can't lose him.)
There will be more time to observe the child later.
After all.
They'll be guiding them through the highlands.
---
Ingo watches the child approach. Their hesitance. The figure in white stands by his side, rocking on his feet as they wait. He greets them as cheerfully as he can, even as his hands are shoved in his pockets to keep warm.
They must not like dark caves. He thinks.
They have to travel with the ghost warden the whole time? They think.
How does a ghost even become a warden?
Nonetheless they listen as he gives them advice to aid against lord electrode, and muses the Pokemon's woes.
Melli, despite it all, is a nuisance. Showing up to challenge them and their resolve to quell his Lord once more. Testing their patience with his annoying personality.
They see the way he sidesteps around Ingo and his chill. Commenting that it's a bit cold out as if it were the weather, and not the unholy entity lurking beside him in a guise of friendliness.
Wait.
That's rude.
But he is a ghost or something.
Melli shivers slightly as he passes the chill of the ghostly warden. Neither one mentions it. Then he prattles on about the frenzies being a gift from Almighty sinnoh and other such nonsense. Challenging them to a battle.
They refuse. He already saw them battle Adaman. They proved their worth. They will not give him the satisfaction of a battle.
Ingo laments the man's selfish outlook when he leaves, but asks them what they want to do.
Nobody's asked if they WANT to quell the frenzies. At least, not in the way the ghost seems to. But they nod anyways.
This condemns them to walking through wayward cave with the man. For Melli has removed the torches from the path and left the cave unlit, therefore unsafe to travel.
Ingo would have guided them through anyways. But there goes their chance to debate it.
---
The skyfaller follows him into the the cave. Gaze flitting about with tense shoulders- do they not like the dark? That's fair.
He sends the white spectre a meaningful look. He moves forwards to scout. Keeping an eye out for danger.
The comforting chill follows, leaving him to warm up, and Ingo offers his hand to the child. Offering them reassurance. Though also a warning that his hands might be a little cold.
They're surprised anyways. He can see it in the way their eyes widen when they take his hand. (He has no way of knowing they didn't expect to be able to touch him, that they thought him a ghost.) And he gently curls his fingers around their little hand so as to not lose them moving forwards.
But still, they glance around warily. Their hand trembles ever so slightly. Why is a child the one quelling the frenzies? Why are they allowed to go alone?
They're fifteen, supposedly.
They look much smaller than that.
Ingo starts talking to ease their fears. Picking the first subject that comes to mind. Irida told them of his memory loss. So that ends up the subject he discusses. Despite normally coming up with dead ends discussing his memories.
He tells them he remembers a man in white. Not that he is haunted by him.
He tells them of the fragments of memory his mind can drag up. A smile that mirrors his frown. Flickering purple flames leading him onwards. (A common memory for him to get, wandering the tunnels. Not that he ever remembers it afterwards.)
The words "I like winning more than anything else" flash through his mind, and when he repeats them, the man in white shoots him a large grin.
The child seems more at ease when he speaks.
Unfortunately, fate holds no mercy for them. The tension comes right back when Ingo stops them from proceeding. Because the white spectre alerted him of a threat up ahead.
(Not that he says what or who alerted him to the alpha crobat. The skyfaller merely thinks he spotted it himself.)
Ingo resigns himself to the fifteen year old being stressed until they exit the cave.
(The man in white's features are a little more distinct in his mind.)
---
Torches set up once more, he shows them through the quarry. Only a minor stop when the ginko guild's least effective merchant stops them for a chat delaying their commute.
Volo distracts Ingo from offering the child help- If they can convince Melli- in quelling electrode.
The moment is not right again, before they reach electrode's station.
He has a feeling they would have denied him anyways. With how proud of their feats they are- at least, once he gets them talking about them.
The child can talk quite a lot about the battles and pokemon. Insisting they're strong enough to handle it when he questions how much they're doing by themselves.
No, the skyfaller wouldn't have accepted his help at all, he thinks.
(He sees the way they're relieved when he admits his departure after they beat him in battle and they have gained Sneasler's favour.)
---
He sees them again after the battle. Using the excuse of memory to check up on them. (Their hair is sticking up on end, singed, but other than that, they seem relatively unharmed by the ordeal.)
(He sees now, why they are the one quelling the frenzies.)
Ingo tells the folk present of a world he remembers. Of tall buildings and people and pokemon living, working, playing together in harmony.
He's completely spit-balling. But the words leaving his mouth pull the train whistle of truth in his brain. Images of these strange sounding things and places surfacing in the fog of his mind to fuel his recollection.
The man in white stands close. Ingo's breath fogging as a shiver runs through his body. For a moment, he thinks he can make out details. A face just as his. The same symbol adorning the hat. The large coat cuffs his coat had before they were destroyed. Large smile egging him on.
But still, the recollections end. He falls short of recalling anything detailed. And the face of his brother his face slips from Ingo's mind.
And so he takes his leave. Assured that everyone present is alright. Retreating to his station to ruminate on it all in safety.
---
The man in white sits across from Ingo outside his tent. Elbows perched atop his knees and chin resting upon the butt of his hands as he listens to the warden in black talk.
People have asked him why he has two seats always at his campfire. If he's that eager to have company. If he's that lonely out here that he always has a seat for visitors rather than making them sit on the nearby rock.
He tells them Sneasler likes to sit on the extra log. When she visits.
This is only half true.
The white spectre is alright with giving up his seat when people visit though. Instead sitting next to Ingo, warding him from the heat of the flames, or wandering the clearing, poking at the various plants and logs and leaving no trace of his presence.
People always sit a little closer to the fire when he does that.
---
Ingo catches the skyfaller once, while patrolling the highlands. They challenge him to a battle- well, once they get over the fright he accidentally gave them, calling out as he did. And the thrill of battle runs through his veins again. The ghost in white by his side. Mirroring his pose.
They tell him nobody battles like him. Nobody battles like them, either.
The suggestion of teaching comes up.
It sounds right.
And that is why Ingo ends up approaching Commander Kamado- after getting his leader's permission of course (she was thrilled to put a warden inside Jubilife to keep an eye on things like Arezu does for Adaman- and asks if he could teach people to battle in the training grounds in the village.
(Nobody in his clan, at least within the Icelands, enjoyed spending much time near him. Irida and Gaeric being the best at withstanding the chill he causes. So he has not taught much battling.)
---
The sky goes red and Ingo does not remember a single thing that happens during that time.
Melli tells him he had shown up to help with the frenzied gods. Smile stretched across his face and body trembling with how cold he was.
He was so cold his lips were blue. His breath puffed into fog as it left his mouth. His hands shook like nobody's business as he switched between rubbing them together and stuffing them in his pockets.
He was so cold he mixed up languages again.
He was so cold he had started out with the nonsense he was speaking when he first arrived in Hisui until he saw their blank looks.
He was so cold he- well. He was cold.
He was so cold his hands felt like Ice when he handed over some potions in an attempt to help when he wasn't allowed to come with.
People had thought, for a second, that he was a zoroark.
The skyfaller threw a pokeball at him.
He was not a Zoroark.
It is safe to say they made him go back down the mountain. Out of the snow and cold.
When the blue sky finally broke through the black, he had fallen over. Exhausted and shivering.
Melli scolded him for not taking care of himself in his worry when he found out.
He didn't want to stick around the mountain as much after that.
---
A new stop is added to his schedule.
Twice a week, he goes down to Jubilife village and teaches anyone who wishes to learn about battling.
Sneasler approves of him having a hobby that means he he interacts with humans other than Melli regularly.
She approves him having a hobby in general.
It is dull. At times. When there are no skilled opponents, or people willing to learn. But Zisu, the captain of the security corps, is happy enough to see him.
They have many fun discussions.
He likes the battles just as much. Standing right by the battlers, or cheering from the side. Egging them on with his silent actions.
A couple battles, he doesn't remember. He isn't sure the man in white does either.
They were fun anyways.
The best battles are against Zisu, or the skyfaller. The strongest members of the galaxy team.
People sometimes stop and watch those, and Zisu always joins in his dramatics.
---
Zisu asks him once, during a heat wave.
About how he manages to stand there with his black coat. Black hat. Black underlayer. And his pearl clan tunic.
She was wearing as few layers as possible and he was wearing at least three.
He has trouble staying warm you see. He tells her. Completely truthful as he shivers despite the warm weather. Ghost of white leaning over his shoulder as he listens in on the conversation.
That is the day she learns the best place to stand during a heat wave is next to Warden Ingo. The Icelands chilliest warden.
Which really explains why Irida immediately seeks him out if he's at Jubilife at the same time as her. That girl has the heat tolerance of an icecube in the middle of summer.
She doesn't talk about the ghost either. Beyond a couple jokes about Ingo being loud enough to wake the dead, or looking like he's seen a ghost.
Though she does ask, if he tends to be so cold, why he's partnered with a gliscor, and a tangela. Creatures weak to the ice and snow.
It's because he tends to keep his tent quite warm to counteract the chill. That it's quite warm enough for them.
---
When gods fight on mount coronet for the second time. Ingo is not in the highlands.
He is helping Irida with a project in the Icelands. Teaching the people of the pearl clan more about battling alongside Gaeric, and, because she decided to come and wouldn't leave, warden Sabi. A previous student of Ingo's.
The clan is not completely enthused by the lesson. But they learn a lot.
Ingo only hears of what happens afterwards.
He spends more time in the highlands again after that. Moving it down to one day a week he tromps all the way down to Jubilife.
He couldn't have changed the results if he was there.
After all...
The skyfaller won.
---
Slowly, since they met, the skyfaller warmed up to him. Vaguely becoming friends, perhaps.
He apologizes for not helping them with the frenzies. The gods on the mountain. The red sky.
They insist it's fine.
(They've gotten more comfortable with him since he figured out to keep a bit of distance from Ingo when they're around.)
Which means the eventuality of them sharing the theory that he's from another time. The eventuality of them discussing memories. Of places. Of people. Of pokemon.
Of homes long gone that they don't know how to reach once again.
The skyfaller still doesn't like Ingo, or being around him very much, but they recognize a kindred spirit of sorts. It draws them to him.
They would be alright to never see the ghost man again.
But they have to offer him the chance.
The chance to go home.
---
Ingo looks directly at a figure that only he can see. Staring at the ghost of his past haunting him in the form of his twin brother- the man in white. The clearest he's been in a long time.
"I don't think I can go home. I'd leave him behind."
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samanddean76 · 28 days
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Chapters: 7/7 Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel & Gabriel (Supernatural) Characters: Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester, Gabriel (Supernatural), Sam Winchester, Alastair (Supernatural), Lilith (Supernatural), God | Chuck Shurley, John Winchester, Mary Winchester Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, season four au, Hurt Dean Winchester, Protective Castiel (Supernatural), Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Love, Rescue, Research, Hurt Sam Winchester, Protective Gabriel (Supernatural), Mental Anguish, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Castiel and Dean Winchester Falling in Love, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Constantine References, Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester is Tortured in Hell, Dean Winchester's Soul, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), Borrowed grace, Hell Is Never Going To Be The Same, First Time, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Eventual Happy Ending, Dean/Cas Pinefest 2024, Art by xfancyfranart Summary:
Dean Winchester is living a plain, ordinary, and boring life. Until one day a new student shows up in the little town of Spain, SD. It’s love at first sight, but then an unimaginable tragedy happens, and Dean is left alone in his misery. Or is he a student attending Oxford University on a full athletic scholarship who finds a familiar face in his coxswain? Or is he hiking in the desert and attempting to save a known stranger? Or is he a traveler who stops for the night at a cheap motel and finds the pizza man of his dreams? Or is he none of those things? Just an unwitting victim of fate and destiny?
Castiel had led the assault on hell, in order to save the righteous man and prevent the first seal of the apocalypse from being broken, lest hell should be allowed to reign on earth. In the aftermath of his disastrous mission, he is being held captive by Alastair, and his image is being used in a final, determined attempt to break Dean.
But the profound bond that Castiel feels towards the pure soul won’t allow him to go down without a fight, and he makes a desperate prayer to his very old friend to set in motion a chain of events that might save him and his beloved mortal, or possibly, doom them for all eternity.
@xfancyfranart​ @deancaspinefest​
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jianghushenanigans · 6 months
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Whumptober Day 19: “I’m not as stupid as you think I am.”
Jingyu is quiet. He’s been quiet ever since the news came back about Chiyan army’s betrayal and subsequent slaughter at the hands of Xie Yu. Since the death of his uncle and cousin and aunt.
Meng Zhi is normally the type of man who likes to lighten the mood, but there’s nothing he can say now that will make this better. They both know that Lin Xie was innocent. They both know there’s nothing that can be done about it.
They’re in a-Yu’s office, where they always meet. Meng Zhi is well-used to leaping over the walls of the Eastern Palace without getting caught. In better times, they would be sat drinking tea together, or perhaps they would already have moved next door. Today, though, they’re simply standing, holding each other close, shaken by loss.
If Meng Zhi had stayed with the Chiyan Army for any longer than he had, he would be dead.
“They’re going to implicate me in this.” A-Yu says, half muffled by Meng Zhi’s shoulder.
Meng Zhi tenses up, a thousand horrors flying in front of his eyes. “A-Yu! No. I won’t let them, I’ll –”
“Zhi’er. Da-ge.” A-Yu pulls back, looking Meng Zhi straight in the eye. “You have to promise me that you won’t… that you won’t let my father think that you are somehow involved. That you won’t let him know that you’ve ever spoken to me.”
Meng Zhi stares at his lover’s fervent expression. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand how a-Yu can ask him to do this. “You want me to just pretend that I don’t know you, that I think you’re guilty?”
“Yes!” A-Yu’s hands tighten on his shoulders, almost painfully. “Yes, Zhi’er. Just leave it. It’ll be alright in the end, we just can’t afford to upset him.”
Meng Zhi doesn’t get angry easily. He certainly doesn't get angry at a-Yu, his a-Yu. But now… It’ll be alright? How can it be alright? “I’m not as stupid as you think I am, a-Yu. I’m not going to hear you say everything will be alright and just believe it.”
“Zhi’er, of course it will be fine, my father –”
“Your father just had his oldest friend killed! Your father is a paranoid –”
“The Emperor.” A-Yu’s voice is cold, blank. Regal. Meng Zhi knows this tone. He doesn’t know it turned towards him.
Meng Zhi’s heart stutters. “Jingyu –”
“My royal father is the Emperor, General Meng. Or did you forget?”
“A-Yu, I said the wrong thing, please –”
“I think it would be best if you leave.” A-Yu is looking steadily over Meng Zhi’s shoulder, refusing to meet his eyes. “Perhaps you should stay away from the palace for the next few days.”
Meng Zhi doesn't want to leave. But he knows a dismissal when he hears one. “Your Highness.” He sweeps into a bow, and he doesn’t let himself look back.
He never sees Xiao Jingyu again.
Crossposted here on ao3
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tmnt-obsessed-ace · 1 year
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Since apparently my brain cannot shut up it decided to make ANOTHER au scenario (I decided that I am not touching When The World Crumbles until January because everytime I open the google doc my mind goes fucking blank, meanwhile Sunshine of The Woods and Lost But Never Found continue to mock me)
The 2012 boys all die in the final battle against the Super Shredder (except Leo he dies a month later) and are reincarnated in the rise universe
However unlike most reincarnation aus the reborn 2012 boys arent adopted by the rise boys, no these poor kids are basically street orphans for the first 8 years of their lives. Then they meet the rise boys (I would put their meeting a few days after the events of Todd Scouts)
They dont remember their past lives except through nightmares.
They have the marks of their causes of death as birth marks
The age order has also changed with the oldest turtles being the ones who died first (so the new age order from oldest to youngest would be: Mikey, Raph, Donnie and Leo)
This would definitely be the au that is mostly crack and fluff that gets darker and darker as we go :)
And I am not touching this au again until Sunshine Of The Woods is completed because Im not that insane
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hummingbird-of-light · 3 months
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Round 2: Fourth story for @badthingshappenbingo ~
Title: All That She Wants
Fandom: Star Trek (AOS)
Character(s): Robert "Robbie" Scott, Leah McCoy, Original Alien Character(s)
Relationship(s): Robert "Robbie" Scott/Leah McCoy
Rating: M
Words: 2,266
Prompt: Secret Revealed
Warnings: Offscreen Violence and Slaughter, Major Character Injury, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Disgusting Themes, Swearing
(You can also find this story on AO3)
A/N: Continuation to the first story "Getting To Know Each Other"
~ All That She Wants ~
When the message reached him, Robert "Robbie" Scott couldn't quite believe it. The Scotsman couldn't help but blink several times, scanning the lines written on the screen over and over again.
"What is it, darling?"
A pair of arms wrapped around him from behind and Robbie looked up to see his girlfriend Leah hugging him. He chuckled.
"Oh, uhm, just that the most elegant lady I've ever met just sent me an invite for dinner."
At hearing that answer, Leah started to pout, gently slapping Robbie against the chest.
"Hey! I thought I'm the most elegant lady you've ever met!" she exclaimed, pulling over a chair so that she could sit down beside her boyfriend.
Robbie chuckled even more, a blush on his cheeks.
"Aye! O-of course ye are. Ye are the most elegant and perfect and bonnie and-"
"Okay, okay, I get it. You meant to say 'most elegant woman you've ever met except for me', right?"
Robbie couldn't help the grin forming on his face as he pressed one quick kiss to Leah's lips.
"Aye, that's exactly what I meant to say."
Leah returned the grin, before her eyes moved back to the PADD in Robbie's hand.
"Anyhow, who is that mysterious woman inviting my boyfriend for dinner? Do I have to be jealous?"
At that, Robbie shook his head, smiling gently.
"Nae, no reason for that. The message is from Nomira."
Leah tilted her head questioningly, a small frown on her face.
"Nomira? The woman you saved during that horrifying subway accident last month?"
Robbie still remembered it quite clearly. He had been sent on a mission to another planet to repair some spaceships created by the company he was working for and there had been an earthquake.
Him and several other people had been traveling by subway and a tunnel had collapsed, trapping them for hours. The alien woman - Nomira - had only survived because Robbie had taken care of her, keeping her awake. At least she had told him so later on. The doctors had said it, after all.
"She writes that she wants to thank me properly and that she wants to invite me to her restaurant."
"Oh, so I have to be jealous," Leah joked and her boyfriend only rolled his eyes.
"Nae. For she doesn't invite only me, but ye too."
Leah blinked in surprise before a grin formed on her lips as she leaned in to kiss Robbie.
"Well then... I can't wait for it!"
~
Just two weekends later, Robbie and Leah boarded a pretty little shuttle. Although the Scotsman had said that they could travel there themselves if Nomira told them the location of her home planet, the alien lady had insisted on picking them up in person.
"Hello Robbie, how nice to see you again."
There was a smile on Nomira's dark lips as she took her rescuer's hand and shook it. She was wearing an elegant black and blue dress and her hair was neatly tied up in a bun.
Robbie returned the smile.
"Hello Nomira. Aye, the pleasure is all mine. Thank ye again for the invitation."
"Oh please, I'm happy to do that. After all, I owe you my life."
Nomira let go of Robbie's hand and waved away his statement before turning to the woman next to him.
"And you must be Leah, right? What a pleasure to meet you."
Nomira quickly grabbed the nurse by the shoulders and kissed her cheeks in greeting.
Leah looked surprised for a moment, but then she smiled.
"Thank you so much, Miss-"
"Oh, just call me Nomira, will you?"
It took a second, but then Leah nodded. She didn't want to be rude.
"Of course. Nomira. It's really very kind of you to pick us up."
Nomira's smile widened and she motioned for her guests to sit down.
"Of course I pick you up. Our shuttles are much faster than human ones. I wouldn't want you to take forever to get to me. Please, have a seat, then we can take off."
Robbie and Leah both nodded and Leah went ahead. Nomira eyed her up and down, scrutinizing the nurse's tight-fitting purple dress.
"My goodness, you really are a pretty thing. Robbie is very lucky to have found someone like you."
Leah gave her hostess a smile as she took her seat.
"Thank you very much. I can only return that."
Robbie quickly sat down next to Leah and she took his hand. Nomira took a seat opposite them.
"Well then, let's go."
The shuttle took off and only a short time later it disappeared into the stars.
~
Robbie was quite surprised when they entered the bonnie restaurant only to find it empty. All the tables were free, no guests to see anywhere.
"Nomira, what-"
A hand quickly found its way onto his shoulder as Nomira stepped between him and Leah and gently pushed them forward.
"Oh, I've taken the liberty of reserving the restaurant just for the two of you. That's much more romantic, isn't it? Come on, pick a nice spot."
Robbie exchanged a quick glance with Leah, who looked just as surprised as he did, before they set off and chose a spot next to a pretty fountain.
A smile flitted across Nomira's lips.
"A very good choice. Have a seat, please. I'll bring you something to drink in a moment."
Before either Robbie or Leah could say anything, the lady alien was gone. Not without lighting a candle first, of course.
Robbie pulled back a chair and offered it to his girlfriend. There was a grin on his lips. He still couldn't believe where they were.
"There ye go, my lady."
Leah laughed softly before nodding at him and taking a seat.
"Thank you, sir."
Only when Robbie was seated did she lean forward and stare at him with wide eyes.
"This is completely crazy! Is this a dream?" she whispered and Robbie shrugged his shoulders.
"Nae. It all seems pretty real."
He had apparently just saved the right person.
Leah was about to say something else when Nomira returned with a carafe.
"Here we go, a little wine for the handsome couple."
She quickly, but elegantly, filled her guests' glasses before placing the carafe on the table.
"Tonight we're serving you a four-course meal, beginning with a starter platter, followed by soup, a main course of fresh steak with a vegetable variation and a berry parfait for dessert."
Robbie's eyes widened when he heard what Nomira had prepared for them. She seemed incredibly grateful to him.
"I really hope you'll enjoy it."
Nomira smiled mischievously before bowing and disappearing back towards the kitchen.
Robbie looked after her before turning his eyes to Leah, who simply shrugged and picked up her glass.
"Well then... To a wonderful evening."
~
"I hope everything was to your satisfaction?"
With a cheerful smile, Nomira sat down with her guests after her staff had cleared away the remains of the berry parfait.
Robbie just nodded. His belly was full and he wouldn't be able to finish another bite. Leah looked sated too.
"It was wonderful and... very special. I've never eaten anything like it," she said and Nomira just smiled.
"Oh, that's because the ingredients we use here aren't used on most planets. They are very exotic specialties."
The way Nomira said that sent an unsettling tingle through Robbie's body. He tilted his head wryly.
"Exotic specialties?"
Nomira's gaze traveled from Leah to him and she nodded. The smile on her lips looked extremely peculiar.
"Well, our freshly prepared meat, for example, is considered protected within your Federation. The Andorian steak you had wouldn't be available there."
For a moment, Robbie was sure he had misheard. He... he must have misheard! Nomira couldn't possibly mean that...
All the blood drained from his cheeks and he felt sick.
"Y-ye mean... the meat was... from an A-Andorian?"
Nomira's smile widened and she nodded.
"Of course it was. Most of our meat is from civilized species. A wonderful specialty."
Robbie's gaze fell on Leah, who looked just as pale as he did. That... that was just sick! That was crazy!
"B-but that... that's not possible, Nomira. T-that... that's illegal!"
He wanted to throw up, wanted to spit out what he had consumed in this place. His hands were shaking uncontrollably.
"What kind of creature are you?"
Leah quickly got to her feet, slapping her hands on the table in anger. Shock, but also rage, was written all over her face.
"Oh, honey, it's nothing reprehensible on my planet. It's just as normal as slaughtering animals on your planet."
Leah looked like she wanted to say something back, but even she was at a loss for words with that answer.
Instead, she looked at Robbie.
"Let's get out of here, Robbie. We need to contact the Federation right away," she said and Robbie nodded, getting to his feet shakily. What had he done? What had he gotten them into?
"Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast. I have another important matter."
Before Robbie or Leah could do anything, they were surrounded by Nomira's employees pointing phasers at them.
Nomira smiled at her guests and pointed at the chairs once more.
"Have a seat. Please."
Robbie's eyes were wide with fear and Leah knew they had better follow the order. Slowly, they took their seats again.
Nomira nodded with satisfaction.
"That's good. You know, Robbie, I have a confession to make. I have... lied about your brother. I know him."
Robbie's blood immediately froze in his veins. Nomira... knew Scotty?
"Actually, I bought him at an auction not too long ago. He was supposed to be the latest specialty on my menu."
Robbie's heart stopped. He felt Leah grab his hand, heard her draw in a sharp breath.
Scotty.
How long had it been since he'd heard from his brother? He hadn't sent him a message for a long time. Robbie had assumed that he was on his mission in the depths of space without reception. But what if...
"You damn bitch!" Leah snapped at Nomira, but she cut her off with a wave of her hand.
"Unfortunately, it never happened. A man bought him from me and then betrayed me. I don't know where your brother is now, but he's no longer with that man. I can say that for sure."
The smile on Nomira's lips became conspiratorial and Robbie didn't want to know what had happened to the man.
"Why, Nomira? Wh-why did ye lure me and Leah here?"
Tears were in his eyes. He couldn't and wouldn't believe that this woman was really capable of such a thing.
Nomira sighed.
"I told you that you deserve a long life, Robbie. And I meant it. And yet... I just couldn't get you out of my head. Your soft skin, your strong physique..."
Robbie felt himself getting hot and cold at the same time. What was Nomira getting at? He felt Leah squeeze his hand even tighter.
"All I want is a little piece of you."
The nausea in his stomach only got worse and he opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out.
"You are sick! You'll never-"
Once again, Nomira didn't let Leah finish.
"I need to know what your kind tastes like. I just have to know, Robbie. A little piece of you. Nothing more. After that, you'll never hear from me again. I won't ever touch you or any of your loved ones."
There was something incredibly frightening in Nomira's eyes and Robbie swallowed hard.
"Nomira, I... I cannae do that."
Slowly, he shook his head. Tears streamed down his cheeks. The woman he had selflessly helped was a monster.
"If you so much as touch him," Leah growled through clenched teeth, but Nomira ignored her. She kept her gaze steadfast on Robbie.
"You don't want this beautiful creature to die, do you?"
Instantly, Robbie's eyes grew even wider. His gaze fell on Leah.
Leah. The most wonderful woman he knew. The woman he loved and who had finally given him hope for a life together again.
He couldn't put her in danger! He couldn't let her die!
Leah shook her head slowly, but she had to know that Robbie had already made his decision.
Filled with fear and disgust, but also determined, Robbie looked back at their hostess.
"Ye're not going to touch anyone I care about?"
Nomira nodded. It was a silent promise.
And Robbie knew that he had no choice. He knew there was only one answer.
"A-all right. I... I consent."
The smirk that formed on Nomira's lips was the most terrifying thing Robbie had ever seen. And it would haunt him forever.
"Perfect. Well then... Let's get started."
~
They entered Robbie's apartment and instantly he collapsed and fell to his knees, vomiting on the floor.
He felt Leah's arms wrap around him, gently rocking him back and forth. A hand ran through his hair.
"I'm sorry, Leah. I'm so sorry."
Robbie sobbed and cried hard, burying his face in her shoulder. But Leah didn't want to hear it.
"Shhh, stop it. Stop apologizing. It's not your fault. You hear me?"
Her voice was trembling and she felt the first tears making their way out.
"We'll get her. We'll get and stop her. We'll destroy that horrible restaurant. I promise you that."
Robbie tried to say something, but he couldn't. Slowly, his hand traveled down to his hip. One piece was missing. A piece that would forever remind him of this fateful evening.
How could he have been so naive?
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wangxianficrecs · 10 months
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Come Marching Home by piecrust
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Come Marching Home
by piecrust
G, 4k, Wangxian
Summary: Wei Ying's two undead soldiers come to him and request to be sent home. Kay's comments: Just thinking about this story makes my eyes a little teary-eyed. I mean, the first line is literally: It’s a beautiful day when they kill Wen Qionglin. It's a harsh look on what the life of the two fierce corpses Wen Ning and Song Lan is and how, they too, will grow tired of living like this eventually. It's a story about assisted suicide, basically, so it hits really hard, but it's also so beautiful. Honestly, I don't even really have the words for how this story is making me feel, how it's breaking me apart and then lovingly holding the pieces of my heart in its clutches, but yeah. It's just so good and I keep coming back to it despite it never failing to make me cry. Excerpt: This time, Wangji follows Wei Ying to where the grave has already been dug. Song Zichen lays himself down in the coffin. Beside his grave is a lone headstone with Xiao Xingchen’s name engraved. It’s horrific that Wei Ying has to do this, Lan Wangji thinks faintly, a shaking ache growing in his chest. Just watching weighs heavily on his heart – how much heavier must the weight be for Wei Ying? “Rest now, Song Lan,” Wei Ying says, smiling down at the undead cultivator, “You did well.”
major character death, post-canon, established relationship, fierce corpse wen ning, fierce corpse song lan, grief/mourning, assisted suicide, implied/referenced character death, emotional hurt/comfort, pov lan wangji, mental health issues, suicidal thoughts, the untamed canon, podfic available, @sincerelystranger
~*~
(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)
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rrain-writes · 3 months
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Rain's LU Febuwhump: Day 5
Alternate prompt "I love you.": Twilight and Wild
Warnings: unconsciousness, injury, implied/referenced character death
Art
“Stay away.” Twilight growled. The approaching monsters growled right back. 
Twilight swung his sword, though both him and the monsters knew it was close to breaking. “Stay away from him!” 
Wild slouched behind his mentor, centimetres away from the edge of a dangerous drop. Blood flowed steadily from his side, coating his hands and the grass around him. 
The monsters only drew closer. Twilight knew he was injured as well, but he was running on pure adrenaline, without only one thought in his mind. Protect his cub.
“Twi.” Wild croaked out.
“It’ll be okay cub.” The older one kept his eyes on the enemies in front of him. “The others will be here soon.”
“Twilight, you can’t fight them all.” 
He sounded so defeated. Twilight hated it. 
One ugly bokoblin tried to sneak around the side of him, and was greeted by a sword in its neck. The only problem with that was that the two heroes were now injured, cornered and defenseless.
Twilight looked around at the dire situation. “On three.” He said.
There was no reply.
“I’m going to turn around, grab you, and we’re going to jump.” Twilight said urgently, fear and panic lacing his words.
Still nothing. Nothing to tell whether his protege was still breathing or not.
Twilight blinked back tears. “I’m so sorry cub.” He counted down. “1, 2, 3!” 
On the final count he spun around and grabbed the smaller teen’s body as the group of monsters charged with angry roars.
Then they were falling.
Twilight kept a firm grip on Wild, pulling him close to his chest.  He could feel the blood seeping through his fingers. 
Twilight curled around Wild, like he could shield him from the free fall. “I love you.” He whispered.
They plunged into the freezing waters below.
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elmundodeflor · 7 months
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No me queda nada, sólo el recuerdo.
Quizás, es por eso que dejo que la imaginación revolotee. Que mis manos te pinten, como si de un cuadro se tratara. 
Nunca pudimos sacarnos una foto. Plasmar, casi inmortal, todo lo tangible de aquello que no nos decíamos. Pero rebusco entre los cajones. Allí, en lo profundo del alma. Hago lugar, saco las cajas polvorientas. Y aunque las palabras no resbalan, ni salen a borbotones de entre las sombras, te encuentro.
Puedo sentirte, acá conmigo. Dicen que a veces la mente bloquea las memorias que aún desgarran para mitigar el dolor. Que nos engañamos, al menos por un ratito, para que los agujeros negros no nos consuman.
Yo nunca supe engañarme, Hanji. Creo que vos podés verlo más claro que nadie. Te reías de mi hablar crudo, y me susurrabas al oído, y limabas mis asperezas— tal vez, con el afán de hacerme parecer más suave. Hacerme pensar que este corazón viejo y cansado tenía un espacio pequeño dentro del tuyo.
No me arrepiento, igualmente. De las palabras que callamos, o de no tener fotos tuyas, o de nunca haber sido digno de tu amor. Las fotos envejecen, se destiñen bajo el arrullo del tiempo. Pero yo puedo moldearte bajo mis palmas, casi como si te conociera de memoria. Si cierro los ojos, puedo bordear tus recovecos, llenarte de color.
Es que eso eras, Hanji. Una explosión del color más vivo y vibrante. El brillo de los fuegos artificiales, el neón del atardecer. Eras tu melena alocada en el viento, encrespada como el vaivén de las olas. Los lunares que salpicaban tu barbilla; casi constelaciones lejanas, inconexas. 
A la noche, cuando las luces se apagan, tu imagen se me aparece de entre los rincones. Al principio dolía, un dolor tan demoledor que calaba hasta los huesos. Ahora, creo que duele menos. O que aprendí a vivir con el dolor. Como cuando aceptamos que la luna tiene cráteres, huecos, oscuridad incluso bajo la luz.
Quizás, es porque cuando te veo, te veo sonriendo. No hay rastros de guerra, ni de pérdida, ni de lo poco que nos quedó de humanidad. Vestís de blanco, con coronas de "no-me-olvides" en el pelo. El sol te acaricia, igual de suave que como yo hubiese querido hacerlo. Y me decís: "suficiente, Levi". "Ya pasó, Levi".
Y entonces te creo.
Me siento con vos, y permito que la eternidad flote entre nosotros. Te preparo un té con mis mejores hierbas, observo atento cómo el rubor te arde en la piel. Me digo que ya no importan; el dolor que demuele, los secretos bajo llave, las fotos arrugadas, o las que no pudimos conservar.
Si cierro los ojos, puedo delimitar tus facciones. Las líneas rectas de tu nariz, el arco de tus pestañas. Puedo inhalar el calor de tu cuerpo, hablarle a las estrellas.
Y hay semanas, o meses, en los que quisiera volver atrás, gritarte que no te vayas, que sin vos el mundo es una imagen en blanco y negro. Pero, ¿sabés, Hanji? Hoy, que puedo grabarte en acuarelas, entiendo que con eso me basta.
Por eso, te hago un lugar en mi mesa, y en todas las grietas del alma. Limpio la casa para recibirte, desempolvo las cajas. Ya no hago preguntas, aún convencido de que no tengo las respuestas. Dejo que tu voz cante, y entreteja en mil paisajes las maravillas que siempre supiste tararear. Te escucho, como un niño desbordado de ilusión. Y en mi alocado desvelo, te guardo conmigo; en cada parpadeo, en cada amanecer, en cada latido.
Porque estás ahí, todavía. Lo sé, Hanji. Un día, los velos del olvido van a llevarme a mí también. Las galaxias van a tragarme, como polvo de estrellas, y voy a tener todo el aire en el espacio para pensar en cada madrugada en la que fallé.
Pero no me arrepiento. De nada. Qué extraño, ¿no? Si pudiera, te juro, lo haría casi todo de nuevo, así tal cual fue. Las heridas que nos vendamos, el reír a carcajadas, haber sido cómplices en cada pedacito de vida. No lo cambiaría. Y menos aún, si es que pudieran asegurarme que voy a cruzarme con tu sonrisa otra vez. Como cuando me susurrabas al oído. Como cuando mis sueños te pintan.
Entonces me duermo, incluso estando despierto. Cierro los ojos, y mi mente me arrastra hasta ese lugar en donde todo está en pausa— un claro en el bosque, la casa que construimos. Me contás, como siempre, que Erwin está más tranquilo. Que mi mamá te adora. Que Eren y Sasha no paran de pelearse.
Y sonrío. De esas sonrisas que sólo vos podías arrancarme. El té se nos enfría, el sol se derrite tras la ventana. Pero estás ahí, Hanji. Estás ahí, aunque no pueda tocarte nunca más.
Me acuerdo, todavía, de esa vez en la que vimos la luna. Era primavera, y los chicos entrenaban cerca del arroyo. Te pregunté, por qué no brillaba igual que al caer la noche; “¿no debería brillar más ahora, con la luz del día?”, dije. Te relamiste los labios, como siempre que ibas a salpicarme con historias, y respondiste, claro y sencillo: “algunas cosas necesitan de oscuridad para ser descubiertas.”
¿Será por eso que te siento adentro mío, enlazada a cada exhalación? ¿Que nuestro escondite en el bosque es una rendija de cielo, donde nada quema ni lastima? ¿Será que me estoy escurriendo, y en mi afán obsesivo me aferro a tu amor? ¿Que en el vacío que dejaste, sólo hay espacio para sembrar estrellas?
Quizás haya perdido la cordura, Hanji. No lo sé. Pero empiezo a pensar que te transformaste en luna. En cuarto creciente. Con cráteres y todo. Que tu destello rasga hasta las penumbras más negras. Es un faro de esperanza que guía las mareas. “Suficiente, Levi”, repetís, casi como un arrullo de cuna, con tus manos en mi pelo y tu boca en la mía. Y entonces te aprieto, bien fuerte contra mi pecho. Y dejo que llenes las grietas, y las cajas, y que tiñas de color cada foto que no tenemos.
“Estoy bien, Levi”, me asegurás. “Vamos a volver a vernos.”
Y entonces, porque nunca supe hacer otra cosa, o porque ya no me queda nada, te creo.
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shadow-waterglow · 2 years
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- Three Questions by Lang Leav
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Phic Phight - Rebound From A Breaking Point
For: @library-of-cronos
Even on the run he’s still got someone(s) to protect
Life on the streets was hard for anyone, most of all children though. However, on this street it was better to be a kid/teen. The kids all knew that, and so did the adults. Why? Because of the pale kid with fluffy black hair and eyes like blue ice, the kid would could be behind you at a moments notice without ever making a sound, the kid that would eye a gun like it was a pathetic toy, the kid who could walk into a room full of mobsters and be the only one left standing and looking like he’d merely gone for a light jog. To adults of the seedier sort his presence was an ominous warning that somehow someway they fucked up. While to the kids he was like some sort of guardian angel. If someone sold you bad drugs? You go to D. If someone was stalking you or threatening you or hurt you? You go to D. If some kid was missing? You go to D. If you needed food or water or medical help or shelter? You go to D. Whatever it was a kid might be having issues with, they could always go to D. Though trying to get the ‘how’ of how he helped, out of him was a pointless endeavour, since the answer was always either ‘I have my ways’ or ‘I’m just a good fighter’. Most of the adults thought he was a child mercenary or at least trained by one, because of how he could fight in so many styles and so skilled, because of how weapons and violence didn’t bother him even slightly, because of how he wouldn't react to getting injured even severely, because of a lot of things.
It was to the point where adults would go silent or nod respectfully if they saw him, and kids would run up to play or idly chat. It didn’t matter that he was cold as ice, it didn’t matter that his stare could make you feel like Death had come, it didn’t matter that many could swear he didn’t breath enough, it didn’t matter that he’d do things that seemed like they should be impossible. Adults respected or feared or hated him. Kids respected, looked up to, and loved him. Many of the kids could even say they were all great friends, even if D was closed off and secretive. No one knew his real name, no one knew where he’d come from, no one knew why he was here. There was, however, one big clue: the Rule. The Rule was simply that if men in white suits ever came, to stay away from them and that he- that D didn’t exist. That Rule only made more of them sure he was a child mercenary on the run from his former employers or a lab rat on the run from the government or the child of some big crime lord trying to establish himself without his family's connections. Honestly? If the boy wanted to outright take over the city’s seedy underground, he could with the snap of a finger; instead he just seemed to want to protect and nothing more… some called him Batman jokingly over that, the fact that he often hung out on rooftops and ‘patrolled’ in the dark of night, only encouraged everyone.
Even if an adult managed to sorta consider D a friend they had to watch it, if D perceived something they did/were doing as a threat to the kids, D would flip on them like a dime. But if an adult deemed friendly by D was in trouble, he’d help them. Rival gang looking to beat you into the ground and torture your girlfriend? D would hogtie them with their own belt and break all their toes with a witty quip. Honestly, his fatalistic and dark humour was both hilarious and very unnerving. It was also very good at pissing off people that didn’t know better, him insinuating that some abusive asshat fornicated with his own gun resulted in an entire building getting burned down and a few people thinking the ‘d’ meant demon over him walking through flames like it meant nothing.
All in all, he was good (and terrifying) to have around; at least… until men in white suits did actually show up. Pressed, clearly dry cleaned, white suits. Uniformed hair cuts. Dark sunglasses. Smelling of bleach and limes. Anyone with half a mind could tell they meant trouble. They asked around with pictures of D, anyone who even slightly seemed to know anything would disappear for a while. Whether that someone was a vendor, a shop owner, a street kid, a drug dealer, a random apartment tenant, a CEO’s assistant; it didn’t matter. All the shop owners and vendors in the seedier parts of town already knew better than to give these men anything, and the others soon learned better. Those that disappeared would come back with stories of torture, electrocution, water boarding, being beaten with guns, chained up and left to hang by their wrists, injected with drugs; anything and everything seemed to be alright and doable by these people. They were dangerous. Whether they were government, secret militia, a powerful crime ring. It was collectively decided that whatever D did to these people they were all better off not knowing, and that he would be gone if they ever found him.
Even the people who didn’t like D or were solidly terrified of him went about to let him be taken or assaulted by these psychotic whackos, especially when all the kid could be accused of was being too protective and secretive for his own good. Even after the men left, D was MIA for a month, wherever he found to hide it out was clearly a very good one. And when he came back he clearly expected to be treated different and was very interested in anything anyone had to say about the strange men. Everyone did learn a little more about whatever D had left behind though, a bombing was involved, experimentation on child corpses, somethings even hinted at a civil war or something similar. The only explanation he gave to anyone, which everyone who heard it assumed they only got out of him because they basically all protected him right back, was, “‘cause somethings are simply meant to be contained, and one of them is me”. Oddly that didn’t actually answer what kind of group was after him, it did make it clear that he was just as dangerous as he seemed if not more so.
In the end it just made D’s reputation even more intimidating. But everyone with sense, especially the kids, knew that it would be very bad if the men in white ever returned here.
End.
Prompt: Danny, on the run from the GIW and powerless, finds his second home with abandoned children living on the same streets he is. And superpowered or not, he's going to protect them.
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