The Christmas card industry was started in Britain in 1843, three years after the Penny Post had been introduced. The first Christmas card was of a family drinking wine together. The early Christmas cards did not focus on Christmas, instead they largely featured pictures of fairies and flowers or children and animals. Cards began to be produced in America in 1875. Official Christmas cards for the British Royal Family were started with Queen Victoria in the 1840’s but it wasn’t until 1953 when the White House followed suit. Christmas cards served an extra purpose during the World Wars, as they became patriotic. The cards have changed over the years, to become more Christmas oriented and even humorous. Whilst Christmas cards still make a large profit for the card industry, the number of cards sent has decreased with the rise of the internet and better social connections.
I’m busy wrangling my kids and trying to get them out of my hair for long enough to write. I’m gonna have to start waking up early to bypass the neediness.
We still have some slots open in our writing group if anyone needs some buddies! Got several fanfic writers from different genres as well as a fantasy writer and we’re all lovely conversationalists.
Lynda looks up, eyes red, face tear-stained, and says nothing. Of course. She’s spent a lifetime being silenced, after all.
“You don’t have to be quiet,” Cynthia says. “Let it out. Scream if you need to.”
And as if a damn burst, a switch flipped, a lightbulb turned on, Lynda opens her mouth and cries. The sounds that leave her are desperate, broken, terrified. Cynthia stays for it, in case the angel’s sorrow turns self-destructive.
She’s seen it before. Hell, she’s been there.
Lynda screams like a woman who’s been holding herself back for centuries. No, not like. She is. Cynthia’s heard this before, watched and sat and comforted before, but it’s worse when she can feel Lynda’s emotions overflowing through their bond.
Day one is over! I haven’t actually annouced what I’m writing yet, but I’m working on what I would’ve written last year if my laptop hadn’t written: Far From the Tree. I’ll do a WIP re-intro post tomorrow, but basically there’s demons, an angel, and an elemental magic system that I’m making up as I go.
And they’ve already began forgetting, whether they know it or not (Cal Kestis/Hera Syndulla/Kanan Jarrus)
Summary: With Vader on their tails, Cal tells Hera a hard truth. She doesn’t want to hear it, but she needs to. The only question is, will Kanan ever forgive them for this?
Warnings: Angst, Fake Character Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Burns, Serious Injuries, Self-Sacrifice, Goodbyes, Nightmares, Scars
Word Count:2,343
Prompt: Angstpril Day 1 - “You have to let me go.”
Author’s Note: you know the Inquisitor!Cal concept I was ranting about? Yeah, this is the start of it lol. I saw that the first Angstpril prompt matched one of my lines of dialogue perfectly and lost my shit, so it’s basically destiny. I hope to continue this in the future as a series, but for now enjoy this terrible, depressing one-shot. :) Title is from Obituary Generator by Mariah Bosch.
She won’t stop running. Her body burns with the effort and Cal tugs her hand, trying to stop her, but she keeps going. She may not be able to feel the poison of Vader’s presence quite so literally as he and Kanan can, but she knows he’s not far away.
“They’re in the tunnel, it’s not much farther—” she manages breathlessly.
“Hera, stop!”
He stops cold, forcing her to turn and face him.
The lights flicker in the lifeless hallway, the pair the only people in sight. The floor is cold and the walls dark, the choking colour scheme of an Imperial fortress. Cal feels it more than she does; the Force here is entirely dark and threatens to drown him each passing moment. Maybe that’s why he’s more winded than his Twi’lek companion, or maybe it’s the lightsaber wound across his chest.
Hera had managed to save him from dying at Vader’s blade, but that scar will always remain. It burns into his skin like shame.
“If Vader catches up,” Cal gasps out, breath heaving, “he’ll kill all of us.”
“He won’t if we keep going,” she says sharply, ever sure of herself. “C’mon—”
He pulls her back before she can keep walking. “Hera.” It’s firm and fearful enough to keep her still. “I can distract him.”
BD-1, on the floor next to his feet, wails in distress.
Her eyes widen. “No. No! No, absolutely not—”
“I’m a liability,” he argues, unable to even gesture to his injury without wincing at the pull. “He can’t get his hands on the holocron. If you run ahead, you can get it to Kanan and Cere and the three of you can get the hell out of here.”
“He will kill you!” She grabs his poncho and holds him close. “Or worse, turn you into an Inquisitor!”
Cal cradles her face, his eyes shining with desperation. “My life for thousands,” he whispers. “Like my Masters before me.”
“I can’t let you do this, Cal.”
Already, she’s crying. He’s a stubborn son of a bitch and they both know it. The decision might have already been made, considering the ache she already feels in her chest. It’s not her choice and yet she feels guilt rise like nausea.
He reveals the Holocron, pressing it into her shaking hands. “Bring it to Cere. Protect it with your lives or destroy it,” he orders. “Give those kids the chance me and Kanan never got.”
The chance tolive. He thinks of Master Jaro, of Master Depa, Grey, and Styles. He thinks of his fellow Padawans, all cut down in the name of power. But most of all he thinks of the children listed in that Holocron, who have committed a crime all their lives without ever knowing it.
BD whirrs and it pulls in Cal’s chest. He gives a sad smile, crouching to the little droid’s height.
“Go with Hera, buddy, okay? She’ll take care of you.” He pets BD’s head, trying to ignore the whines he makes. After a moment, he looks back up at Hera. “I’ll hold him back as long as I can.”
A sob lodges itself in Hera’s throat. “Kanan will never forgive you.”
It’s supposed to be a joke, but Cal shuts his eyes tight, pained by the thought as he stands again.
“And you will?” he asks with a rueful huff of laughter.
She puts a gentle hand on his cheek, caressing a scar that rests there. “I already have,” she murmurs.
He shuts his eyes again, that same grimace on his face as he rests his forehead against hers. Then, he kisses her. It’s gentle and drawn out, a lingering sensation against her salty lips. She takes it with an aching sort of grief, the pit of a forbidden knowledge heavy in her stomach. No one should know when their last interaction with someone is, but she does.
“That was for you,” Cal says when he pulls back.
He kisses her again, fiercely this time. It has a message, one she doesn’t understand.
“That was for Kanan.”
He’ll understand it, even if she never will.
Hera hugs him, burying her face in his shoulder as his hand rests on her back. One of her lekku twists around his wrist, as if reminding her of his steadily beating pulse.
Alarms begin to roar around them, a warning.
“Hera.” It’s gentle at first, but he must sense something because desperation catches in his voice. “You have to let me go. Let go. Hera, let go.”
He pries her off, taking her hands in his gloved ones. Though it’s ridiculous, he wishes that an Echo of hers would spark to life and give him one last memory to think of. Instead, he’s left wiping away the remnant of a tear from her cheek. He steps back after, pulling his lightsaber off his belt.
Hera swallows. “Cal, I—”
I love you.
She can’t say it. And she curses herself for it.
They’ve never needed words, but it would mean everything to hear it out loud, just once. Just once, she begs her own unmoving lips.
He smiles, knowing and sad and all the more infuriating. “Me, too,” he whispers.
Not too far away now, another lightsaber buzzes to life.
“Go,” he says finally, his face sharpening into something like determination. “Get out of here!”
She nods and tucks the holocron away into her jacket, allowing BD to hop onto her shoulder. Her first steps are in lead boots, but finally, she manages to shake herself out of her stupor and turn away, running toward the exit. It takes everything in her not to look back, not to seek out one last glimpse of that fiery red hair and the twin pair of yellow blades that snap and hiss as they activate. BD watches, though, a little light blinking on the side of his head. He chirps, almost like a goodbye, but Cal never hears it.
Opposite Cal, the shadow of the galaxy’s golden age looms. He brandishes his blood-red blade, bathed in red and yellow light. His rasping breaths haunt the air.
Though it burns more than anything Cal has ever felt before, he twirls his double-bladed lightsaber, letting its golden light wash over him, secure in the knowledge that his fate is his own.
Finally, the ghost speaks.
“Your attempts are admirable, but useless. You and your friends will fall at my hand. There is no escape.”
“Does it look like I’m running?” Cal asks, settling into a fighting stance. “Musty bitch.”
*
Hera flies up from bed, her throat burning like she’s been screaming.
A jerk away from the cold metal wall of her bunk sends her over the edge of it, right toward the floor. She has half a second to close her eyes and brace herself for the impact, but—
It never comes.
She opens her eyes, only to find the floor a few inches away. A green mist encompasses her body, holding her up and keeping her safe. Glancing at the door of her room, she sees Merrin in the doorway, her fingers smoking with that same green mist.
“You should think about installing railings,” the Nightsister says dryly.
Hera only huffs and tenses when she starts to move. With a wave of Merrin’s pale hand, she’s standing upright and is let down carefully. She steadies herself with a deep breath, unaware of the little droid at her friend’s heels.
“Thank you,” she murmurs, dusting herself off. Then, she glances up. “How did you know I was—?”
“I didn’t. Cere asked me to check on you. Lucky for your face.”
If Hera didn’t know her any better, it would be sharp, but unfortunately, she does. So, she snorts. “Lucky for the floor.”
She goes to stretch, her muscles sore with sleep. Instead, she stops abruptly, wincing when her lekku tingles. Lifting a hand to its end, she doesn’t notice the flash of concern on Merrin’s face until she speaks again.
“Alright?”
“Fine, just slept on it funny. It’s numb,” she admits with a rueful laugh.
Raising an eyebrow, Merrin wiggles her fingers, miming magick. “I can help,” she suggests.
Hera visibly hesitates. “…you can?”
Nightsister magicks tend to be dark, according to Kanan and, once upon a time, Cal, but that doesn’t mean they always are. They have the capacity to heal and, though aware of that, Hera didn’t realise they could help with numbness of all things.
“A touch of healing magick and a massage,” Merrin explains shortly. “It’s not rocket science.”
Hera laughs. “If it were, I’d understand it.” Then, she nods. “I’d appreciate it.”
They settle on the bottom bunk, which usually belongs to Sabine. However, the teen has been trying to barter for the top bunk and, with this latest fall, Hera is tempted to give in. The young Mandalorian is sturdier than she is and far less prone to night terrors.
Merrin has a surprisingly gentle touch, carefully interwoven with wisps of glowing mist. Despite her initial reluctance, Hera lets out a grateful sigh when the feeling starts to return to her lekku. It’s like walking around swinging a numb arm; intensely uncomfortable. While Merrin works, BD-1 approaches, beeping concernedly and nudging the Twi’lek’s leg with his head.
“I’m okay, BD,” she reassures gently.
After a moment, Merrin speaks in a whisper. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Hera has to look away from BD-1, something in her chest wrenching. She shuts her eyes. “No,” she says finally. “Not really.”
Merrin must notice her reaction to their droid friend because after a long enough moment to be somewhat normal, she speaks to him. “BD, could you go find her head wrap? She might have left it on the Mantis.”
He leaps up, chirping determinedly. When he rushes out of the room, intent on helping, Hera can’t help but let out a breath of relief.
Still working away, Merrin sighs. “You should hang back when we get to Lothal. We could use a pilot in case things go wrong.”
“Greez already offered,” she reminds her, frowning.
“The Mantis isn’t exactly ideal for the type of cargo we’re…borrowing.” She pauses. “Besides, you need a break.”
“I’mfine.”
She scoffs. “Yes, falling from your bed in a fit of terror is the behaviour of a fine person.” At Hera’s silence, she sighs again. “Look, I’m not the only one who’s noticed. Things have been difficult lately and whatever you see in your sleep isn’t helping. Just…let yourself rest, Hera. The galaxy won’t implode if you take a nap.”
Tell that to the Empire. Maybe they’d hold off on pulling the trigger, she thinks ruefully.
Eventually, she relaxes, and when Merrin finishes, BD reappears. This time, however, he’s not alone. Kanan stands a step behind him, eyes tight with worry. The weight on his shoulders lessens minutely at the sight of Hera.
BD ignores him, running up to the Twi’lek with her leather headwrap held tight in one metal foot. He beeps excitedly as he hands it to her.
She gives him as much of a smile as she can currently manage. “Thank you, BD. You’re my hero.”
He nudges her fondly before scampering over to Merrin, who huffs amusedly.
“C’mon,” she says, leaning down as she stands from the bunk so he can leap onto her shoulder. “Let’s see if we can’t coax Rabid out, hm?”
On their way out of the room, she sends a knowing glance at both Hera and Kanan before the door shuts behind her. Her voice, directed toward the devil droid on her shoulder, starts to fade after a few moments, growing more distant.
“I…” Kanan has to clear his throat, which is drier than Tatooine. “I felt your distress in the Force. Came back as soon as I could. You okay?”
Hera takes a moment to slip on her headwrap, grateful at the fact that her lekku are no longer tingling. “Better now, I think,” she admits.
He takes a step forward, asking. At her nod, he moves to sit beside her on the lower bunk and pulls her to his side. She rests her head on his shoulder. Shutting her eyes, she finally lets herself relax, knowing that she must be safe here, of all places. She takes comfort in Kanan’s touch and the way he runs his thumb across her shoulder, too. His breath of relief against her forehead makes her smile, just a little.
(And it certainly helps to clutch the stupid poncho he’s wearing in her hand. It’s an ugly near-white with black patterning that forms an arrow near the bottom. Outlander was what Cal called it. He loved giving them dramatic names like he’d made his own clothing line or something. Hera hates the Outlander one.)
“Nightmares?” he murmurs.
She nods slightly.
He hesitates, but finally asks what she’s anticipating. “The same one again?”
“Isn’t it always?” she retorts, more sad than sharp. There’s a long moment of silence before she speaks again and when she does, her voice wavers. “I can’t remember what he looked like.”
“Hera—”
“I know he had a scar on his cheek and across the bridge of his nose, that he had red hair and green eyes and the cutest karking smile in the galaxy, but I can’trememberit,” Hera says shakily. “I know what heshouldlook like, but I can’t…pictureit. And it drives me insane.”
Kanan squeezes her shoulder. “It’s been ten years. I forget, too.”
“I hate it,” she whispers.
The kiss to her temple is sweet and soft and it should bring her some sort of relief, but it doesn’t. It’s not nearly enough and Kanan knows that. There’s nothing he can do to soothe the ache in her chest where Cal used to live, because he can’t even soothe his own gaping wound.
All he can do is hold her close and say: “I know. I know.”
But, thinking of tear-stained, freckled cheeks and a bitter kiss goodbye, she can’t help but wonder if he really does.
Red eyes abruptly darted open and Vlad blindly flailed against his covers. Hyperventilating he clumsily backed away from Sam and onto the edge of the bed. In a muted pop of pink, he teleported out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. Every light in the house flickered on and off rapidly. Several bulbs burst and water could be heard coming from faucets in the open bathroom. The shattering of a mirror jolted them to action. Darting into the room both Tucker and Sam eyed the dimly glowing red eyes peeking out from behind Vlad’s shaking arms in the shower.
Daniel could be heard cursing from the bedroom and quickly arrived in Phantom form. Stepping down and feeling the glass underfoot his eyes widened. “VLAD?!?”
Vlad numbly swallowed. “ It….it burns….someone….make it stop…..I’m sorry….make it stop…”
Sam and Tucker gently tried coaxing Vlad out of the dark corner so they could inspect him. Daniel leaned down worriedly, “ Fruit-Loop? Come on…answer me…?” Vlad shuttered. “ B-Badger…..the fever…..it’s getting….worse…-won’t stop….Someone….make it….make it stop…”
Sam went to touch Vlad’s sleeve through the water and her eyes widened in horror before she quickly retracted her fingers. Tucker noted the expression and quickly tried the same thing only to quickly retract his hand in disbelief. Turning to Daniel he yelled, “ Pham?!? Cool the room! That waters evaporating off of him!”
Daniel’s green eyes flashed blue and he quickly began deep freezing the bathroom. Vlad continued shaking and soon more glass could be heard breaking around the teenagers. Vlad covered his ears and screamed in agony. Green tinted red slowly curled from his nose as he backed up in a panic against the tile.
Hyperventilating he begged, “Someone….please……it hurts…..I’m sorry…”
Sam went to rush forward only for Daniel to hold her back. “ Go get the taser!”
Nodding she quickly ran out of the room while Daniel stumbled through the pitch black and toward Vlad. Vlad began coughing violently. Daniel ran toward Vlad at the sound and hissed from the unnatural heat radiating off of the adult. “Vlad! Come on! I’ve got you!!! Please…”
Vlad numbly registered the voice but his eyes were turning a dull rust, completely devoid of his spectral energy. Daniel’s arms cooled and wrapped around him in an effort to calm him. Vlad gurgled weakly as he was held and continued softly spasming. Feeling Vlad’s breathing hitch the teen yelled, “ SAM! HURRY!”
The thud of boots against tile quickly closed the distance. Grabbing the taser from Sam, Daniel flicked the switch and connected it to the small of Vlad’s back. Vlad numbly registered the pain from the shock but unable to scream simply went limp in Daniel’s grip. As if on cue the lights in the house flashed on. Vlad’s breathing was labored and sporadic against Daniel and his eyes weakly watered as he was held.
Sam and Tucker gaped at the room in horror. In the shower there were splatters of blood and neon green ectoplasm riveted across the walls in frantic grasping motions. Besides those, large claw-like gashes were stamped into the ceramic. Noting Vlad’s bloodied hands, Sam ran for the first aid kit. Daniel grimaced and gently hugged Vlad against him in an effort to cool him down. Vlad numbly registered the running water above them and a few tears began dripping down his features. Daniel noticed and comforted, “ You’re alright Vlad… Whatever those monsters gave you is going to filter out. I promise. Breathe.”
Vlad choked a faint breath before his eyes rolled back and his neck fell over Daniel’s arm. Daniel looked to the shower knob above them and cut it off with his powers. Picking up Vlad and gently laying him down in a spot free of glass or blood, he began trying to tend to his wounds with Sam and Tucker’s help. Vlad numbly writhed as the bandages on his neck came loose and Sam growled in anger. Blackish tendrils where lacing through the flesh and bruising the surrounding tissue.
Daniel duplicated and positioned his doppelgängers around Vlad. “ I’m going to burn the wound…”
Tucker grimaced. “ Are we sure that’s a good idea?”
Sam looked to Vlad sorrowfully. “ I agree with Danny. The heat will probably purify whatever’s in his system. He’s obviously trying to fight a paranormal poison with fever but he can’t regulate. If Danny torches the one spot Vlad should be able to recover faster.”
Tucker winced and took hold of Vlad’s right shoulder blade. “ Okay…Let’s get this over with.”
Sam nodded. Daniel took a deep breath and turned Vlad’s neck to expose the bite mark. Charging his right hand, the teen squeezed the flesh together. Vlad bucked and tossed slightly. Dull blue eyes shot open once the energy surge connected and the adult choked against the pain. Limbs became rigid and then protested against the contact. Tears slowly leaked and trailed down his pale features as he numbly shook and shivered against the heat burning his flesh. After a few seconds, he began begging in his sleep. “M’sorry…please stop…..please….”
Sam comforted, “ He’s almost done. Hold on…I promise….Jesus Christ, Vlad we’re sorry….”
Vlad continued writhing and his chest arched. White light tried condensing around his right wrist and he tried pulling his head away from Daniel. “ M’ sorry….please….please…stop…it -it burns….please…”
“ I know Vlad… God… I’m almost done. I swear! Hang in there!” Bloodied hands clawed into the tile, scratching and sparking. Vlad was sweating profusely and his features had started elapsing between pained states of alertness and hyperized semi-consciousness by the time Daniel completed the burn. Daniel’s duplicates faded with a muffled hiss of air. Gasping and choking, Vlad numbly felt a cool hand grasping onto the wound.
Bright red sclera eyes, so commonly seen in Plasmius, flashed spastically from dull blue, to red and then to orange irises despite the ghost taser’s usage. Quickly washing and wrapping the wounds, Daniel cradled him against himself to further cool his skin. “Shhh….Breathe Vlad….”
Vlad numbly reached for Daniel’s sleeve and leaned further in against the teen’s cryo-core as he held him. Eyes continued flashing spastically between forms and tearing numbly. Still shaking, he began starting to come to. “ D-Daniel……..What…..happened…..?”
Daniel began rubbing circles against his back in an effort to calm him further, “Whatever bit you poisoned you Vlad…. It’s alright though… You just need to relax.”
Vlad continued shaking. “ B-Badger…?……It still….hurts…Why….-”
Vlad coughed weakly and his eyes sparked white. Sam and Tucker bent down next to him and held onto his hand. Vlad registered the touch and his fingers twitched slightly in their hold. “F-Foley….M-Manson?….That’s you two…r-right?”
Vlad swallowed and continued shaking. Sam and Tucker worriedly noted the eye changes and quickly pulled him from Daniel. “ Vlad! Hey… Dude? Can you see anything?”
Vlad fearfully gripped the hand beside him. “ E-everything…..is blurring…It hurts….t-thermal…..night vision…..n-normal…it won’t s-stop..”
Daniel’s eyes widened at the now more predominant eye changes and he gently cupped a hand to Vlad’s jaw. “Vlad? Hey…It’s alright. We’re going to fix you.”
Vlad continued shaking and dizzily reached for the blurry white and black limb comforting him. “…..B-Badger..?…..I-I…am….kinda…..scared….I-…I can hear….everything….r-right now….without…p-powers….”
Daniel’s face went ashen. “ Vlad? It’s going to be alright. Breathe…just breathe.”
Tears started dripping down his cheeks. “……D-Danny…..c-claws….ripped through hands….didn’t shift….like with ghost form….t-tore open….human…side…..s-shifts….aren’t s-splitting…”
Vlad’s eyes began to dull further. Sam saw the lack of color and paled. Reaching over and patting his cheek she ordered, “ Don’t you dare! Stay awake!”
Vlad’s eyes weakly gained back some color again and he tried smiling. “….I-I…am not….the best..c-company….Ms.M-Manson….”
Sam gently rubbed his hair. Tucker grabbed his now free hand. “Come on….you’re going to be fine Vlad. Don’t pull something lousy like going full ghost on us when we’re just now growing attached to the sarcasm.”
Vlad choked out a weak laugh and reached for one of the hands keeping his face up so he could breathe easier. “…..D-Did….you know….halfa’s…can’t g-go….full g-ghost….?”
Daniel’s eyebrow furrowed. “Vlad….What are you talking about…?”
Vlad numbly swallowed and his hand began going slack. “ When…y-you’re both….you can’t s-switch….back to one…We…c-can't…”
Vlad flinched and shivered as Tucker reached over to get some of the hair out of his face. “ Don’t talk like this Vlad. You’re fine… just confused.”
Vlad’s eyes numbly locked on Daniel as he was lifted up and hugged against him again. “ Shhhh…Vlad…It’s going to be okay….”
Vlad continued shaking. “ B-Badger…..I-I think….’m d-dying….”
Daniel withdrew Vlad and sharply inhaled at the sight of green ectoplasm dripping from his jaw and nose. Vlad’s normally storm blue eyes looked whitewashed and sickly and his skin was becoming a deathly paler.
Daniel immediately laid him down and began cooling him. “ You’re going to be okay….I promise…We won’t leave you! Just stay awake!”
Vlad numbly choked and tears began dripping down his features again. He tried to smile, “J-Jack…said…t-the….same….t-thing…..B-Badger…”
Sam lifted his head up. “ Vlad…Keep talking while we cool you down! Please?”
Vlad winced as he was lifted up. “I-I’ll….t-try….S-Sam…”
Daniel quickly carried him out of the shower and to the tub. The teen’s white boots cracked against the broken mirror on the floor. Vlad weakly gripped his sleeve as he was carried. Several sickeningly wet coughs came from Vlad’s throat and crimson dripped lazily down his jaw. Daniel froze at the red splatters and quickly set Vlad down in the tub. Dull caspian eyes stared blankly into ice blue as the water was turned on.
Sam gently reached under his head to support him better while they filled the tub, “Come on Vlad…. You promised to talk.” Sam pleaded. Vlad rasped, “ S-Sorry….What do….y-you..want t-to…talk h’bout…..?” His voice trembled slightly as his eyes stared into the ceiling.
Sam felt his pulse. “ Danny! His heart is slowing down!”
“ Keep talking to him Sam! Tuck? Quick! Go get ice!!! Every tray in the fridge!”
Sam began patting Vlad’s cheek, “ Vlad? You’re still here right?”
Vlad choked, “ Y-Yes…”
Daniel’s hands reached down and phased his pants off. Vlad grimaced and shuttered against the teen’s icy touch.
Daniel began cooling the room more rapidly. “ Vlad? What’s your favorite color?”
“…G-green….”
Daniel smiled encouragingly. “Good… What’s your middle name Fruit-Loop?”
Vlad started darting out and Sam patted him. “ Come on Vlad. Please.”
Vlad numbly turned in the water and winced. “ ..D-Damian…”
Tucker could be heard stepping over the broken glass with several trays. Vlad swallowed numbly and shook as the ice was poured in. Sam continued, “Your ghost name?”
Vlad coughed and his eyes began rolling back. Daniel shook him slightly. “Vlad! Wake up!”
Crying, Vlad answered, “..Plas…mius-s”
Tucker gently held his hand. “Vlad….hang on man…. Jesus… Just pull through this.”
Seeing Vlad slipping under again, Sam shook him. “ Vlad? What was your little girl’s name?”
Vlad began crying slightly harder and he choked, “ A-Annabe-ll.”
Sam patted his head gently as he shook. “ How old was she?”
Vlad started becoming distant and Daniel cursed at the sweat still gathering on Vlad’s still paling skin. Putting a cold hand to Vlad’s brow he gently jostled him with the other limb. “Come on Fruit-Loop. How old was she?”
Vlad numbly swallowed, “ E-Eleven…”
Tucker quickly questioned, “ Who was your mother?”
Vlad trembled against them and began slipping, “ I-I d-don’t…k-know…S-Sheryl..?”
Sam gently patted his cheek. “Stay awake….Vlad? It’s alright. Slow breaths. Easy.”
Vlad choked slightly and his hand numbly twitched in Tucker’s hold. Daniel leaned over and began patting his face. “Vlad?” Vlad remained unresponsive so the teen lightly shook him, “Vlad? Can you hear us?!?!”
Daniel growled and shook him again, “ You listen here you selfish asshole! Stay awake! I’ll be damned if I finally consider being your friend only for you to fucking die on me!”
Vlad numbly began crying again. “B-Badg….?….It’s b-burning…..”
Daniel felt his head and turned to Tucker, “ Tuck! Thermometer, quick!”
Vlad weakly tried lifting his arm only for Daniel to catch his palm. “ Come on Vlad… You always fuck up and come back swinging! Don’t you dare prove me wrong now!”
Vlad weakly gripped the limb. “ B-Badger….I-” Vlad’s chest slowed and his hand went limp in Daniel’s hold. Blue eyes numbly closed and Sam’s fingers shakely reached for his neck. Feeling no pulse, she began shaking Vlad desperately. “DANNY! HE’S NOT BREATHING!”
Grabbing Vlad into his arms, Daniel quickly left Sam and Tucker upstairs while he rushed Vlad to the infirmary.
Title:System Restore Point Author:qikiqtarjuaq Rating: T Tags: Time Travel, Fix-It, Humor, System!Wei Wuxian, Host!Lan Wangji Words: 24,181 Summary: It was supposed to be a simple, straightforward beginner’s mission for a novice System and Host pair: travel back in time and stop the Yiling Patriarch before the Massacre of the Nightless City. Too bad the new System was the unpredictable Wei Wuxian.
In which Wei Wuxian is the world’s worst System, Lan Wangji is stuck as his long-suffering Host & absolutely nothing can go wrong as they travel back in time to try for a second chance at happiness.
I initially told myself I would not do wangxian week because I actually have a lot of work to do and I’m falling behind. So naturally, I just reworked my schedule so that I could do wangxian week AND all my work. I hope you enjoy!
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
day 1: running on the roof of the world
Wei Wuxian has figured out time travel. And he went back in time. One problem… he’s unsure of how to go forward. With a younger version of himself chasing him for answers, and a younger Lan Wangji very close to figuring out who he is, Wei Wuxian needs to figure out how to get back before things escalate.
Wangxian week day 1: -Family -Chances -Time travel AU
The golden eyes of the man were focused on the instrument, his perfect skin practically glowing in the moonlight, his long hair swaying in the midnight breeze. Wei Wuxian drew in a breath. Lan Wangji, the second prince Lan, was up on the rooftop at midnight, playing his Guqin. Wei Wuxian was immediately mystified by the beauty of the man on the roof.
And in his chest, though he tried to deny the warm and sudden feeling, Wei Wuxian’s heart skipped a beat.
Wangxian week day 2: -Emperor’s smile -Music -Royalty AU
Wei Ying, his brain said as the man with the blue scrunchie started walking out the store. Wei Ying. His Wei Ying. Lan Zhan quickly jumped the very low door separating his workspace and the café area, much to the protest of the lady who was waiting at the counter. But Lan Zhan didn’t care. Because this man was Wei Ying. His Wei Ying.
day 4: wreckage breaks the peace, but sews us together
“Huanguang-Jun, he got hurt in the arena, they won’t give us medical coverage because Master Wei has a criminal record, Jie-Jie is busy working her shift at the public medic bay, I’m sorry, I didn’t know where else to go-”
“Shut up,” Lan Wangji spat, moving the curtain aside and stepping into his small living quarters. Blood was dripping off of Wei Wuxian now, onto Lan Wangji’s hands, onto the floor, onto Lan Wangji’s clothes. Shit. “Shut up, shut up shut up.”
“And… we’ve come to ask you, seeing as your husband is dead, permission to court you?”
Lan Wangji’s mind went blank for a second, his false pleasantness and miniscule respect towards this man snapping in two, then shattering into small shards, never to be recovered again. Lan Wangji’s eyes widened at the man’s still smiling face, clenching his hands tight, feeling the hilt of his sword shift under the pressure of his fingers. Lan Wangji didn’t even try to hold back.
Lan Wangji died at Qiongqi pass, pierced by a thousand arrows, each one meant for Wei Wuxian. And Wei Wuxian doesn’t know what to do. Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian doesn’t know what to do.
Wangxian week day 6: -Sacrifices -Devotion -Role reversion
“With this hand I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never be empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness. With this ring… I ask you to be mine.”
![heisarahei:[Date] - Day 1So I’ve decided to participate in this year’s keisara week! Not sure how](https://64.media.tumblr.com/e1998d0962a77e14e8d9815887f0a544/d238b46de0989a2a-d7/s1280x1920/e8f9d753a391742411c3942f23e3e98830b44692.png "heisarahei:[Date] - Day 1So I’ve decided to participate in this year’s keisara week! Not sure how")
