#fff283

[seekers-who-are-lovers]

He is the voice I hear

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial with the prompt #FFF283 calling, calling home. (So appreciate this, thank you!) Based on the last scenes off the 13th episode from the “Yatagarasu: The Raven Does Not Choose Its Master,” paving the way for the Golden Raven arc, using Yukiya’s POV.

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Fandom: Yatagarasu: The Raven Does Not Choose Its Master

Characters: Yukiya and Wakamiya (a.k.a Nazukihiko, The Prince, The Crown Prince)

Word count: 687

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“The master's sleepy face, the thrown gold coins, the tough daily work, the calm face giving unreasonable orders, the sweet red bean mochi we shared in the castle town, the rain sheltering with knees hugged together, the carefree smiles. Smiles. Smiles.”

—Yukiya, “The Remembrance of a Crow,” by Chisato Abe

“THAT fool!” Yukiya sighed as he munched the candied kumquat. And definitely the last one that he would savour in his mouth because no way he would serve that stupid Wakamiya ever again.

After mounting the horse, the prince tossed him the one and only kumquat for the last time. The citrus fruit became a symbol of his reward, a job well accomplished. Yukiya’s year of serving the aristocrat was up after he decided not to prolong it anymore unless… Wakamiya changed his mind.

The prince was fond of making candied kumquats. He realised early on that cooking was not only a necessity to survive both in the Outside World and Yamauchi where finding poison on his food became a major concern, but also a hobby that he cherished.

Yukiya’s mind, however, was in turmoil since he admitted to the prince that he had no qualms serving him forever if he only gave up that ambition of aiming for the highest role in the land, as the emperor.

“What an idiot! Ugh! His folly would only let himself be killed!! To think I offered myself and he did not even acknowledge it!” Yukiya cursed himself. Did it sound like he almost confess his love for him? His stomach turned a bit, butterflies swirling as if.

“Why is he keen on eyeing the throne when they all want is his older brother, Lord Natsuka? Can he not understand that they do not want him? How can he not see that?!”

He would love to pull his hair out of frustration if only his hands were not full holding the bridle. Chuo, or the central, was already behind him, and yet he could still feel Wakamiya’s eyes were on him, singeing with his intense golden eyes the back of his cyan blue kariginu.

“We will see each other again, Yukiya. That is my true Golden Raven instinct is telling me.” The prince’s parting words. “You know very well that I need you here.”

No!

The truth was after Wakamiya’s several assassination attempts and Yukiya witnessing how power hungry the Miyagarasu (court ravens) in the imperial court were, the more he despised being there. He only wanted to see Wakamiya alive and safe. Was he wrong?

All this talk of having nothing left if he did not have the aspiration of claiming the throne as a true Golden Raven, what was that all about?

It hurt him seeing him suffer to be honest. Wakamiya was earnest in his belief eradicating the vassal-oriented philosophy of his father and reducing the influence of the powerful families in the imperial court, and yet, he was in the middle of it.

“Damn the Prince… I am going to miss him,” Yukiya kicked himself. “Ahhhhh, brain, stop it!”

Suddenly, now he could see his hometown. Taruhi Village. The green fields, the endless mountains, the rolling hills, the quiet countryside. They were calling him.

It was all behind him now. No more court duties. No more impossible demands from that beautiful young prince. No more of his pretty elongated eyes with long eyelashes scrutinising him. No more of the enigmatic smiles when he caught him looking at him. No more taking care of that feminine face that he used to wash, the silky black hair that he enjoyed brushing and freeing from the tangles. No more of these silly things and all.

From now on, he would forget the prince and his palace, and the annex that he used to share with him and Sumio-san.

From now on he would forget the prince’s last words, stifled the remnants of his feelings toward him and go back to where he should be long before meeting him.

He crossed his fingers and prayed for the mountain god for strength to overcome it all.

~fin~

[starkraivennemad]

All I Have To Do…

All I have to do is call…. No!

The man winced as he gently rubbed at his dark lashes. He slowly peeled open eyelids crusted together from the bitter cold that made him teary-eyed. Not that he had much he wanted to see once he had them opened.

He knew where he was: on a large box over a vent gone cold hours ago. Its meager depth was the only thing between him and the icy brick wall behind him.

Not that it stopped him from shivering in the night, but not from the cold.

Empty pockets and the stench told him it was a back alley.

Not even enough coin for a doss house.

All I have to do is call… Shut. Up.

He tried to curl into a tighter ball. He tried to because he was already doubled over, his bony thighs pressed against a chest too much in pain for the pressure. He moaned as he tried to switch positions gently, his ribs reminding him of the beating he took – the reason he had no money.

All you have to do is call…

He idly scratched at a scab on his scalp. The weight of his dark, dirty hair stuck to his face.

“Oh…” He opened his eyes, surprised at the candles he could just see from a window across the way.

Artificial, but pretty. Like their Christmas tree. Tis the damn season. Wait... Boxing Day was how many days ago? It’s not New Year yet.

He did not know. He did not like not knowing, but it hurt too much…

Too much to breathe… to think… to live…

No!

Who said that?

Listen…

Voices. Officers.

When did morning come?

He had no answers other than New Year’s Day would not find him on the streets if he wanted to live.

His body, weak and wracked with withdrawal pain, made his way out of the alley.

The voice heard fading away.

All I have to do is call…

“Wait…” he coughed. It hurt.

“HELP!”

“Christ!” The cop ran, catching him before he collapsed.

He read the name badge.

“Sergeant Lestrade… I’m Sherlock… Call home… please... Get Mycroft…”

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@flashfictionfridayofficial @mystradepromptsandscenarios

@mystradeholidaycollection @notjustamom

[writing-far-too-badly]

A call ignored

Thanks as always @flashfictionfridayofficial for the fantastic prompt!

There is a tether that binds me ever back. Try as I might to escape, to travel, to forget the place where I come, the echoes rebound and magnify.

When I walked in the bar, a few curious patrons turned towards me. Watching them drop their drinks let me know in an instant what they thought about me. A few moments later, the rest of the bar was staring at me, and the bartender began to reach under the bar for some sort of weapon. I know that I am not welcome here, but I had hoped to pretend for at least a few moments.

Back outside in the still winter air, I look at the same stars that my family still pray to. The wind picks up, and the beating of the snow against my back is the beat of a song for those who were found. I can't go back though.

I walk to the bright lights of the city, hoping that the fluorescent lights can hide the stars, hide the past. They say that you can be whoever you want in a big city, and I suppose it's time to learn if that's true. The drunks walking by shudder and cross the road, and I know that is not true.

I stopped believing in destiny the day that I left home. Still, my empty stomach found it hard to resist the flyer advertising work at some fast food chain when it blew into my face. After spending the night in some alleyway, far away from the rest of the unhoused, I made my way there, hoping that I might at least have the chance to warm myself for a moment. The manager rushed towards me as I opened the door, and I knew that, if destiny was real, then the flyer had been a cruel prank from the same stars that abandoned me.

Then, to my surprise, she reaches out her hand.

I stare, forgetting for a moment what the proper response is. I may not be a human, but it has been so long since I've been treated like a person. Willing my hand to stop shaking, I reach out to grab hers, noting how dust and smoke stained my own hand is, especially compared to the cleanliness in her own.

She asks if I'm here for the job, and I freeze before answering. I know what will happen if I say yes. The first few days may be fine, but in time others will learn who I am. This woman, who has enough space in her heart to look at me and not shudder, even for a moment, will die. I can see it as clearly as I see the springtime sky in the blue of her eyes.

Sighing, I turn to leave.

I cannot go home, but this city is not for me.

[renee-writer]

When Home is a Person

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial #283 prompt Calling calling home. Outlander Fandom. Cannon compliant.

AO3

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Her heart beats triple time. He is alive! Oh her home is back, her heart restored, the blood of her blood reflowing through her veins again.

A million questions run through her mind. How is he alive? A second later, the question leaves her mind as his lips find hers and her heart that had been frozen, comes alive again.

Every time, from the moment she heard his voice in the middle of that horrid witch trial and knew she was safe. That was even before she allowed herself to know she loved him.

Every time she is reunited with him, every time, she feels herself coming back to life. But this time, unlike when she returned to him after twenty years, or when he was rescued from the horrible evil abuse at the hands of BJR, this time she was grieving his actual death, or so she thought.

“He is alive! He is alive! He is alive!” her heart screams. Her home has been restored.

[ruvastuon]

@flashfictionfridayofficial Thanks for the prompt!

Messages

Another random story inspired by the prompt.

Story warning: mild language.

[Hey honey, I know I said that I could make it back by 8, but something came up at the lab, and the boss wants all hands on deck. Take care of the kids, I love you guys.]

His eyes darted around the room, looking for anything that was salvageable. It was clear that the area had been abandoned some time ago, the infection almost completely covering the walls. Avoiding the larger masses, he crossed into a room that smelled slightly cleaner than the rest and discovered to his delight that the technology hadn’t been damaged too significantly.

[I know that I promised to spend more time at home this year, but we’re so close to a break through, I can feel it. Take care of the kids, I’ll be back when I can]

Taking several deep breaths to bring his heart rate back to normal, he stopped in front of the main terminal. He couldn’t let his emotions run too high and wake the others again. His fingers hesitated just over the keyboard, knowing that if he screwed up this time, he could kiss any chance at escape goodbye.

[Some of the others are starting to act strangely, I know that we’re on to something, but they’ve locked down the main exits. I’m worried about you guys. Please call me back when you get this message…. sigh… I love you guys]

Carefully securing the most intact cables, he gingerly booted up the computer system and watched in quiet excitement as the screens flickered to life.

[I found a way out, I’m coming home, please be okay. I miss you guys… If I don’t make it, I need you to know that I love you]

The files were nothing he wouldn’t have expected from a lab like this one, but it would be good enough to aid in his escape of this labyrinth. With the data secured in his wrist and a plan of escape brewing in his mind, one of his eyes suddenly picked up on a strange flicker from one of the dying monitors. It felt greedy to try for something more, but he was feeling adventurous today. The files were encrypted, but it was easy enough to break through.

[Dear, where are you? You said that you’d be back by now,the kids are worried about you. I don’t know what’s going on, but the sky is acting really weird, and Tom started acting strangely… Please call me back when you can.]

His fingers froze, and his heart jumped a bit, the voice striking a cord in the back of his mind. Where had he heard it before?

[I can’t wait for you anymore, the kids… they’ve started to get sick, and the neighbors all left last week.]

Why did she sound so afraid? His skin began to crawl as his eyes darted to the main terminal again. Lurching forward in barely controlled steps, his fingers began to fly across the keys.

[I tried John, I really did… I don’t know if you’re still alive, but I know that you wouldn’t have left us like this unless you had no other choice. I love you.]

His fists landed against the table, triggering a wave of alarms as his heart rate began to fluctuate, overloading the computer. They had blocked the messages, every bloody message that he had sent. A flood of rage rushed through his veins as all of his memories began to condense, ripping him away from the hive.

His finger deftly landed against the keyboard, forwarding the messages. For all he knew, they were dead, but if there was even a chance they might reach Ruth and the kids, he needed them to know that the thought of them had kept him sane. They needed to know that he loved them. John ripped the cables from his arms and ran for the exit as the chittering of the other husks started to echo through the halls.

….

[John?]

[nyamadermont]

Ripple Effects

#FFF281 Ripple Effect

@flashfictionfridayofficial

Avatar: The Legend of Korra

527 words

“Move aside, groupie,” growled the imposing young woman in the grey and black uniform. The shove to her shoulder sent her off the edge of the pier, and the water closed over her.

She could swear the woman didn’t even look back.

“... and that’s why we can’t be together anymore, Lin.”

The scream of rage was impressive, Pema had to admit. Loud, yet distinct, and under control. And those eyes cut straight to her. Lin knew exactly what was what. Pema crossed her arms and raised her chin.

“You’ve always thought you were better than me, Lin. From the first time I came to this Island.” She paused for effect. “I bet you don’t even remember shoving me off the pier, do you?”

“What?!” Tenzin shouted.

“Shut up, Tenzin,” she and Lin said in unison.

Neither woman took their eyes off the other.

“Just leave, Lin. You are never here except when you want to keep him up at night. You don’t come for dinner. You don’t stay for breakfast. You couldn’t name four gurus. I know Aang loved you, but spirits know why. Your mother hit him every time they saw each other. You never hit Tenzin, but what was the last kind thing you said to him?”

“Pema!” Tenzin shouted.

“Shut up, Tenzin!” the women shouted back.

Lin reared back like a weasel-cat, hissed, and before Pema could blink, her arms were held in place with Lin’s cables wrapped tight.

“Lin!” Tenzin shouted.

A disturbing rush of noise from the ground heralded a sickening wave of energy warping the courtyard, radiating out from Lin’s feet. One wave trapped Tenzin’s feet, but another pushed Pema in the general direction of the Thousand Steps down to the ferry.

“You’re under arrest, you harlot! Alienation of affection is a crime in the United Republic!”

Water from the fountain surged across the courtyard at a bewildering speed before freezing everywhere but a tiny radius around Lin’s feet, and a small stripe from there to the stairs. The frozen water glinted in the afternoon sun where it clung to the ripples of Lin’s anger.

Gliding forth like a spirit, Katara floated forward on a foggy cloud until she settled right in front of Lin. When she reached out for Lin’s shoulder, Lin collapsed to her knees. Katara knelt in front of her, and rested her brow against Lin’s.

No one dared speak, or draw any attention to themselves.

Neither would ever repeat the words said in that moment.

When Katara kissed Lin on her forehead, and rubbed a thumb across her cheek, Pema could see a new wave spread out from them - the ice dissipating into fog, the stone relaxing into its normal smooth level.

Katara helped Lin to rise from the ground, kissed her forehead again, then stepped aside.

Lin left, and did not look back.

***

“Whatever happens to me, don’t turn back!” 

“Lin! What are you doing?”

Pema would swear to the end of her days that she saw the ripples of Lin’s impact on the airship when she landed.

“That lady is my hero.”

When he agreed with Meelo, Pema did not tell Tenzin to shut up.