#i like making tiny web weavings. its good for me. anyways check out both of these songs

[keplerspacecraftofficial]

(wilhelmina waltz // chonny jash)

(fuck the american healthcare system // rio romeo)

On busting your head open

[aroseandapen]

{Don’t go asking to be a horror movie protagonist when you’re terrified of ghosts}

For the @badthingshappenbingo; prompt: caught in a storm

A sudden storm drives Kaito to seek shelter. Nothing unusual could ever happen in an abandoned house. Ghost AU.

Warnings: Past Suicide

Drizzle turned into downpour, with whipping winds throwing sheets of freezing water directly into his face. Kaito pulled the side of his jacket up as a shield, but it quickly soaked through. His eyes stung, bringing tears in defense of the painful wind.

He didn’t think he’d make it home like this.

Quickly he scanned the street, hoping for an overhang to huddle underneath until the worst of the storm passed. Miraculously, he saw a vacant house tucked between two others, the wind having blown the door open to flap against the elements like it was waving him in. Really, it would be rude of him not to take the invitation the gods offered up to him. Technically it might be trespassing, but what was the law of man against the powers that be.

He could hardly see anyway with how ferociously the wind kicked water up directly into his eyes. Surely no one would denounce him for popping into a house for shelter for an hour at most, especially when no one else was using it.

Squinting against the rain and wind, he jogged up the walkway, forcing the front door shut behind him and dragging the deadbolt into place so that the wind couldn’t blow it back open.

Immediate relief washed over him. The wood groaned and glass panes rattled under each gust that buffeted the side of the house, but it was safer and warmer compared to being outside. His clothes and hair dripped into the entryway. Too bad there probably weren’t any towels left in this vacant place; he could really use one right now.

The small entryway opened up into a large area, ornate stairs directly in front of him leading up to the next floor, double doors to the left and the right that were cracked open. A smaller door was tucked half out of sight by the stairs. He opened it, hoping that it was a closet that contained at least one bit of fabric he could use to dry off. Fortunately, it actually was a closet. Less fortunately, there was nothing inside.

Kaito sighed. Dammit. Well, beggars couldn’t be choosers, he supposed. He shrugged off his jacket and peeled off his shirt, hanging both over the handrail lining the stairs after wringing them out. His exposed chest left him shivering somewhat in the large drafty house, but it was better than dragging around soaking fabric that hung heavy over him the entire time. And while there was no hope of them drying before he left this place again, at least it might be a bit better by the time he had to put them back on.

He lingered by his hanging shirt and jacket for a moment to consider his next move. Nothing really to do now, he supposed, but to explore the house for a while, right?

First he swept the lower floor, peeking into wide rooms occupied by worn furniture--the odds and ends left behind by the final owner’s evacuation. A chair knocked over in one corner had spiders weaving their webs between the legs and the floor. The kitchen had a fold-up table leaning against the wall, but it’d been bent out of shape in such a way that Kaito wondered how the hell it’d stood on its side in the time since it’d been abandoned.

One room in particular was crammed wall to wall in junk, so that when he pushed the door, it would only open a couple inches before getting stuck. A storage room, evidently, but he couldn’t tell for what reason and why it’d been left behind. Unable to get in to sift through the stuff in the room, there was nothing of interest on the ground floor for him.

Kaito stepped back, hand on the door handle to close it. Just then the wind outside picked up, whistling through the tiny cracks in the house. The door slammed shut, no input from him.

He jumped back, heart rolling into his throat. A chill ran down his spine, hairs sticking up on the back of his neck. Probably just uneven air pressure from the wind, he figured, but that didn’t make it any less damn creepy. Like something lurking in the house didn’t want him in that room.

Which was dumb. Silly. Nothing--nobody--was in the house but Kaito. Maybe a homeless guy or two, although he hadn’t seen evidence that anyone had been in this place recently, but still nothing supernatural.

Yeah. He had goosebumps now for absolutely no reason.

And for no reason at all, he sped-walked down the hallway to return to the staircase. His skin prickled with his back to the door, but he refused to look back. As he lingered by his hanging clothes, he was suddenly reminded of the many scary movies that took place in an abandoned house in the middle of a storm.

Tree branches slapped against the side of the house, screeching along the glass window panes. He jumped.

“Dammit. Get yourself together, man,” he grumbled, rubbing the back of his head. Something about the sound of his own voice filling the void of the house made him feel a bit more secure. Enough so that he could finally take the next step, heading up the stairs to check out the top floor of the house.

He opened up the first room, and nearly slammed the door shut again in pure shock. It was a child’s room, practically untouched. Dust covered every inch of furniture--a small bed with the corners still tucked under the mattress, a desk, a tiny chest in the corner. He couldn’t imagine how it was still there, why it’d been left behind. His heart wrenched with dread. Nothing good could come from this room, left behind to be forgotten with the rest of the house empty. 

Slowly, he closed the door. It didn’t feel right to wander into some kid’s room, even if it had been abandoned for however long. This adventure felt less fun by the room. He moved onto the next door down, dragging his feet heavily across the floor.

He opened the door, noticed two things: the room was almost a perfect mirror of the previous, and a torn racoon plush was slumped against the leg of the bed.

A face popped in front of his eyes.

Kaito screamed.

He pinwheeled his arms and scuttled back. His head slammed into the wall in his rush to escape. The face briefly retreated, then surged forward again.

“Wait, you--.”

A person, it was a fucking person speaking to him, transparent and floating inches above the ground. A ghost, right in front of him.

Kaito ducked and twisted his body. He dug his toes into the floor and sprinted down the hall for the stairs. Even without looking behind him, he could sense the ghost in hot pursuit. Outside the wind howled, rain pelting the house.

He’d take a full hurricane, plus an earthquake, before he dealt with a ghost.

“Don’t!” it called, voice thin and bouncing off the walls as if the sound, too, was chasing him.

Flying down the stairs, he full-body slammed into the front door so hard that he bounced off it. He staggered back, but he didn’t bother to right himself before he threw himself at it again. The knob turned easily and he yanked on it.

The door creaked and clattered in the frame, but did not open. Kaito choked on his heart.

“Fuck, no, come on, come on!”

He pushed and pulled, jerking the door to force it open. No matter what he did, though, it wouldn’t budge. Was it the storm? The ghostly figure whistling down the stairs after him now? Was he trapped in this abandoned house he’d recklessly taken shelter in?

“Fuck!” The door was no good. His eyes darted along the wall, searching for an alternate route. A screech that hurt his ears and teeth drew his attention over to where the branches outside scraped against the window. The window!

He made a mad dash for it, bulldozing ahead with all intentions of crashing out through it. A misstep, though, twisted his ankle and brought him tumbling to the floor. His head cracked against the floorboards and stars burst in his vision. He hissed in pain, the room spinning around him. Stunned, he could barely move when the half-there figure once again swam into view.

“A-are you ok? Oh no, please don’t be…” The face grimaced. His eyes darted around, looking for something. Then, as if realizing he could do nothing even if he found what he was looking for, regret filled the ghostly features. “Take it easy ok? Hang in there.”

Kaito blinked rapidly. His head throbbed with each bat of his lashes. “Gh…” He brought a hand to his forehead. “What the hell… are you?”

Hurt flooded his expression. “I’m…” Face pinched, he looked away and crossed his arms. Something was vaguely familiar about his appearance, especially when he posed like that. “I mean… you can tell, can’t you? That’s why you...”

That was why he ran.

“...you got hurt.”

“Wait, what?” Despite the ghost’s urgings for him to take it easy, Kaito forced himself to sit up. The ghost, as if startled, drew chillingly close to him, hands hovering over Kaito’s shoulder. When he flinched, the ghost withdrew. He blew out a relieved sigh. “Of course I got hurt. You were chasing me.”

“I wasn’t.” The ghost pouted. “You were just running…” His face twitched uncomfortably. “Ok I guess that is chasing, but… I wasn’t gonna do anything.”

“You locked me in!” Kaito protested with a burst of anger. He staggered to his feet. “You made the door jam shut, how the hell am I supposed to take that?!”

A flash of irritation twisted the ghost’s expression. “I didn’t! You’re the one who locked the door when you came in here!”

The faint memory of sliding the deadbolt to keep the door from blowing back open scratched the back of his mind. The angry fire in Kaito’s gut immediately extinguished. “Oh… right.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Who’re you supposed to be anyway? What do you want with me?”

“I’m Kurochi; I don’t want anything with you. You’re the one who came into my house. Or… the house I grew up in, I guess… So who are you?” Kurochi ended with a question, his tone defensive.

“Kaito. It’s raining outside and this place was abandoned, so…” He shrugged. For some reason he felt guilty, but he didn’t know why he should. It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t expect the place to be literally haunted by some kid. “How old are you?”

He shrugged. “Don’t know, probably same age as you? It’s been… a long time.”

“So when did you...?” he blurted out the question, regretting it as soon as the words left his mouth. He was asking about an actual person’s death here; he wouldn’t be surprised if Kurochi grew furious because of it.

The ghost didn’t. His face did fall, however, eyes dropping to the floor. “I… died when I was twelve. So… I don’t know. It’s been years since then, though.”

“You don’t look twelve.” Even if Kurochi would have been the same age as him, if he died at such a young age he should have looked the part. Although Kurochi did have a young face, it wasn’t as if he looked like a child.

Kurochi only shrugged. “I don’t really know what I look like. Mirrors don’t exactly work when you’re…” He gestured toward his incorporeal body. “I have a twin brother, though. Maybe I look like he does now.”

Suddenly Kaito realized just why Kurochi had looked so familiar to him before. “Wait! I think I know… what’s your full name?”

“Oshi…” Kurochi started, then stopped. He looked physically pained before he shook his head and quickly changed the name he was about to give. “Ouma. That was my mother’s family name, that’s what… we wanted before…”

Kaito’s eyes bugged. The pieces fit too well to be a coincidence.

“Wait, was your brother named Kokichi?” Kaito could see his classmate in the ghost’s (transparent) features. It wasn’t exact, but the resemblance was enough to be uncanny.

He’d never seen quite a mixture of shock, hope, and horror in a person before like he saw in Kurochi’s face the moment the question left his lips. A tremor ran through Kurochi; he pulled in so close to Kaito that he could feel his own body heat being sapped from him by the chill of Kurochi’s form. Kaito backed up, unnerved and trying to get some space, but Kurochi only closed it again.

“Yes! You’ve seen him? Is he ok? He’s ok, right? He’s safe? Right?”

The anxious questions tumbled out in a rush. Kurochi seemed to shimmer, the anticipation practically leaking out of his body. Part of Kaito regretted saying anything, but that was overwritten by the overwhelming relief that he had some good news to tell.

“Yes. He’s ok. A little shit sometimes, but he’s good as far as I can tell.” Which probably wasn’t saying much; Kaito had the feeling that Kokichi hid a great deal beneath his wide grin and clowning behavior. It was blatant now, considering he’d never heard of a twin brother who’d died when he was twelve. “We’re classmates now.”

Kurochi melted to the floor, almost passing through it as he sunk in his deep relief. “He’s safe… he’s good, thank god…”

He held a hand over his chest, where his heart would be if he still had one.

“What I wouldn’t give to see him again…”

Well, that was a wish well within Kaito’s ability to grant. “Do you want to? I can bring him here for you.”

“No! No, no, no, don’t you dare!” Kurochi shrieked, making Kaito jump and fumble back.

The vehement reaction to the negative shocked Kaito. “What? Why not? You just said you wanted to see him, right?”

Tremors ran through Kurochi. He hunched his shoulders, tucking his chin down as if to hide himself from Kaito’s gaze. With a tiny, quick movement, he shook his head and said, “I… don’t want to put that burden on him. If he’s started to get over my death, I want it to stay that way. If you brought him here… I don’t think he even will move on.” His bottom lip trembled; Kurochi closed his eyes. “I can’t handle that. I already left him behind, I can’t… I can’t…”

Despite the innate fear he had of the ghost, the pathetic wobble of Kurochi’s voice pulled on Kaito’s heartstrings. He stepped forward, raising a hand as if to rest it comfortingly on his shoulder. Just before he made contact, he remembered that it wasn’t possible to touch him, and he quickly pulled his hand away. Trying and failing to touch Kurochi would probably only make the ghost feel worse. “Hey, it’s not your fault you died…”

Big watery eyes met his, but the tears never fell. “It is… I… I… when we were twelve, I just couldn’t…”

Shame forced Kurochi’s gaze back down and he trailed off without explaining. He didn’t need to, Kaito understood without him being explicit about it. Kaito swallowed hard.

“For what it’s worth… I’m sorry you felt that way. That the only way to escape whatever the hell you went through was… that. I know I just met you, and tried to run away from you and all, but… no kid deserves to feel that way. No one does,” he said, solemnity muting his tone.

Kurochi near-smiled at his heartfelt sympathy. It didn’t quite lift his expression, but there was something appreciative deep in those eyes. “Thanks. I just… wish I never put Kokichi through that though. I… ruined everything.”

No, that wasn’t his fault. Kaito didn’t know much about his--and by extension, Kokichi’s--childhood, but regardless, it wasn’t a twelve-year-old’s fault if he was so overwhelmed by the pain in his life that he killed himself. Boiling heat stirred in his chest, anger at the injustice rising on Kurochi’s behalf. He was just a child. He deserved so much better than life had given him back then--up until now, too, living as a ghost alone in this abandoned house, not a soul to talk to.

Kaito decided then: he would give him that. While he couldn’t fix the past, he could be that bond Kurochi needed to help him work through what happened to him. He couldn’t bring him back to life, but he could help Kurochi move on. Whatever ‘moving on’ meant for a ghost.

“You didn’t ruin shit--and I’ll show you, too! After this storm passes… I’ll be back tomorrow! And probably the day after that, or next week even! And the week after too!”

Kurochi stared, bemused. And yet--though perhaps it was wishful thinking on his part--Kaito thought he saw something hopeful sparking deep in those hollow eyes. “You’ll… but why?”

“To hang out with you, what else?”

Kurochi choked--or maybe he snorted--shaking his head hard. “No I get that, but… why?”

“Because…” Kaito planted his fists on his hips. “...everyone deserves at least someone at their side, right? And if you don’t want me telling Kokichi about you, I’ll just have to keep you company myself then!”

[saltylikecrait]

The Rite of Spring

A continuation side-fic for The Memory of Wild Things. Technically a finnrey fic, but Finn doesn’t make an actual appearance in this one.

This fic can also be read on AO3.

It had been a long time since Rey had ventured outside her forest. Centuries, probably. Takodana was a vast kingdom and she never quite got over her humanity. Traveling alone was dangerous for a human, especially a woman, but she often forgot she wasn’t mortal anymore.

The mountains weren’t very far from home, but everywhere seemed far to her now. She had only been here once before, a long time ago with her father, but to her relief, not much had changed. The trees were not the same ones as before, but besides a small human settlement at the base of a mountain near a lake, everything was recognizable.

Her paws were sure-footed over the uneven terrain. She was glad she didn’t have to be forced into her lion form each sunrise anymore, but there were times this form brought her more confidence. She flew over the land, knowing few creatures would dare get in her way.

As she walked up the higher elevation, she paused to look down the mountain where a narrow river flowed through patches of trees, golden with their autumn colors. This was her favorite season, a moment of warm colors and beauty before the fragility of winter.

The steam of the hot springs just farther up the trail hit her face. She sniffed the air, checking for the scent of human and realized it was fine to proceed towards the springs.

They were a collection of natural formations that overlooked the mountainside, hardly touched or altered by human hands. Only a loose stone border had been placed here a long time ago, one that regularly needed to be remade, and an altar sat in the center of the largest pool.

Wading in the shallow spring, Rey moved to inspect the altar and wondered if it had changed after all these centuries. The carvings were more weathered, and now that she had watched human art change and evolve, they almost seemed primitive. The designs of rabbits and thyme - the ones that she could still clearly see – were rough and simplistic in nature.

A sprig of Lady’s Mantle sat on top of the altar. Though its tiny yellow buds were molding and its leaves were wrinkled from the steam, Rey guessed it had only been here a few days. A woman had likely traveled up here to bathe in the springs, the offering to the goddess suggesting a suffering womb. Pain, perhaps, more likely problems with conceiving. Those who bathed here often reported later of being cured of their ailments, hence, it had become a popular spot for those seeking help from the goddess.

A rustle from the dried and withering foliage captured Rey’s attention and she turned to see the source of the noise, a fawn-coated rabbit, appear in front of her. Not showing the forest lioness any fear, the tiny creature approached the spring and sat off to the side, dipping its paws in the warm water.

“I’m surprised you ventured out of your forest, Rey,” the rabbit goddess spoke. “It’s been a long time.”

“I’m glad to see you look so well, Kaydel.”

Both goddesses, seeing each other as equals, removed their masks. Rey closed her eyes and imagined her human hands removing it from her face, and when she opened them, she no longer had feline paws. Clutched in her hands, the lioness mask stared back at her.

She waded back towards the fair-haired woman that replaced the rabbit. Draped in a silver and blue tunic, she ran her hands through the water and hummed thoughtfully.

“The girl who left me that offering has had two miscarriages this year,” she explained. “Poor thing.”

“Did you accept it?” Rey asked.

Kaydel nodded. “She’s a good girl. Kind and hard-working. I’m just not very happy with the man she married. He blames her for all of this.”

“Too often of a problem,” Rey agreed. She never paid much attention to the affairs of individual humans, but she had seen too many bad things in her lifetime to not know better. There were patterns, situations that often resulted in the same ending. The last time a human man tried to hide the body of his spouse in her forest, she pounced on him and tore his leg apart enough that he couldn’t run when the villagers went looking for him and his wife. She could not have been more pleased to hear his screams of agony when the others found him next to the body.

But Kaydel’s frown turned into a smile suddenly. “Not your lover though, the one I’m hearing about?”

“The exact opposite.”

“And I imagine he’s why you’re visiting me?”

“Part of it, anyway.” Rey reached down to move one of the loose stones bordering the hot spring back in place. “I was wondering about children…”

“We’ve already spoken about that.” The rabbit goddess smiled softly. “You know that’s no concern to you.” Then, she studied the other woman’s face and began to laugh. “Oh, are you saying this one’s different? You want a child with him?”

A blush reddened across Rey’s face. The last time they spoke, she’s summoned the fertility goddess to her home to ask her if she should worry about conceiving. It was just shortly after her mortality was stripped away, when Kylo held her down and forced himself inside her. It happened more than once the first couple of years. In the middle of his corruption, the god loved nothing more than to hurt her. After her initial time spent hiding from him, another fear crept into her mind and she picked flowers in her forest to offer as a summoning to the goddess, not knowing if Kaydel would answer her or not.

But she had then just as she had now. They had only met once before, but Rey sometimes thought of the fertility goddess as a friend for that reason. Many of the other deities didn’t bother with the Goddess of Wild Things.

“He’s certainly making me believe so.” Rey’s thoughts danced back and forth between Finn and her previous lovers, all mortal and long passed to the otherworld. They were there for her in times when she needed the comfort of another human being, each different in how they cared for her. There weren’t many, she could count them all on one hand, but each held a special place in her heart. Their memory helped her in times when she needed small moments to get her through the worst parts of immortality. Quick comfort. She had cared about all of them, but none had ever made her think she would want to stay forever with them, let alone have a child with.

No one until Finn.

Kaydel continued studying her, dark eyes almost as quick and knowing as her father, the Earth God. He was the only deity Rey really had the pleasure of knowing, his counsel and friendship the closest thing she had to a parent since she lost her own. Perhaps his capacity to care for the lost and frightened was inherited by his daughter.

“If you’re changing your mind from no children to this, I would say you’re serious about him,” the goddess observed, though there was pain in her expression. Regret, actually.

Rey recalled Kaydel had two sons, one who had fallen to corruption just as Kylo had. The Just God, Adoni.

“I’m sorry about your son,” she offered, not knowing what to say. She knew words would not change anything. “And your brother.”

The rabbit goddess sniffled before composing herself. “I’m glad you killed Kylo,” she replied. “He was a plague on all of us.”

“He was your brother,” Rey pointed out. “Would you be saying the same had he been your son?”

Kaydel paused before heaving a deep sigh. “Perhaps not. You’d think the gods were wise enough to stop our own when they became uncontrollable. We’re just as powerless to love as mortals.” She eyed the Goddess of Wild Things again. “Tell me: would you be able to kill your own child if you were in my place?”

Taking a moment, Rey imagined a child with skin as dark as the forest floor, eyes as green as her own with cropped and curled dark brown hair. Her child. Finn’s child. It didn’t exist but she loved the idea already.

Which was how she came to her answer. “I don’t think I could.”

Nodding, the other woman took another breath. “Then I know you will love your children just as much as I have.”

“When I danced with Finn’s friend, he told me what he knew Finn wanted out of marriage. Fatherhood was one of them.” Recalling how Poe questioned her the entire time they danced together, Rey remembered her initial unease when she learned Finn had always wanted to have children. She believed his best friend when he said it was important to him. “It’s the only thing I can’t give him.”

“You’d want that even though he’s mortal?” Kaydel truly looked surprised.

“I was hoping you could help me with that too,” Rey admitted. If there was a way to bestow immortality on someone, she had not figured it out on her own and there was never a reason for her to ask before. “He’s still making a decision, but I think he might say yes.”

When the Goddess of Fertility shook her head, Rey felt her hopes drop. “I can’t help you with either,” she explained, apologetic. “Only my mother and father know how to make someone immortal – they told Kylo how. And only they can allow an immortal child to be born. This is the law of the world since the first humans were destroyed and replaced with their mortal counterparts.”

“Is that how your sons were born?” Rey asked. She knew neither had been created by human belief like many of the lesser-deities. They craved sacrifice and offering but didn’t depend on it.

“My partner and I wanted children, but when they went in to add a strand into my life’s web, they found he couldn’t change it. Immortal Webs of Fate cannot be altered without higher intervention.”

Rey imagined the spider god, Ventu trying so hard to alter the webs they spun, only to find their wife’s web unable to change to give them something they both wished for. She was sympathetic to a god with a job as important as theirs. For each mortal born, they weaved a web that mapped out that child’s life. Ventu could change the web, but they knew how long each child would live and how they would die. Even after thousands of years, it couldn’t be an easy task.

“To get around this, we asked my mother for her blessing. I fell pregnant shortly after,” Kaydel concluded. “I can’t help you, but my father is fond of you. I’m sure my parents will grant you both wishes.”

She stood up and walked over to Rey, leaning down to embrace her. “And if they need more convincing, I’ll tell them. I think you’ll make a good mother, Rey.”

Unable to help herself, Rey wrapped her arms around Kaydel. As the goddesses embraced each other, she wondered if this was what it was like to have a sister. Rey imagined the child again and thought she would like to have the kind fertility goddess to be a part of their life too.

"Oh, and it might not hurt to try the conceiving part on the next Night of the Rabbit Goddess." Kaydel pulled away with a wink. "I know your prince is a good one if he's smart enough to worship two goddesses on the same night."