Happy birthday-and-or-anniversary fic!
May. 19th, 2012 12:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mikkenekoThis is for reikah! It's either a birthday fic or a "one year anniversary for being in the TRC fandom" fic. Either way, enjoy!
Title: Trade Sweet Sleep For Fears
Rating: G or PG
Author's notes:
This was written to go with the "twin dragons" verse, art for which can be seen here. The basic premise is that Kurogane and Fai encounter another version of Fai and his twin in another world and adopt them. Except they're dragons. So Kurogane and Fai return to Nihon and set about the business of raising baby twin dragons.
At night, shadows stalked his dreams. They were vast and ponderous, blacking out the sky, silhouettes that wavered ominously against the torchlight and brought with them drowning waves of horror and dread. They would take away everything, and so Zhi tried to hide and make himself small, cuddling close with his twin in the fear and the dark, but no matter how still and quiet they stayed the shadows always found them.
His father's bones, rolling in the mud by the side of the river. His mother's body, a still and lifeless hulk around which the shadows swarmed, pecking and tearing away at the skin like a flock of carrion birds. A pool of evil black blood dripped from each beak, towards Xiang lying helpless in its path and Zhi breathed frantic spurts of fire to keep it away. Again and again he breathed, and each time fire touched it the cloud rolled back a little bit, only to redouble in darkness and size and roll towards them again.
Then Zhi awoke in the darkness, his brother's talons scrabbling over his scales and the stink of burning wool choking the room. He'd breathed fire in his sleep, and burned a hole through the blanket and the futon. The blanket was charred and crumbled in ashy flakes as they moved it, and a blackened hole in the center of the futon still smoked and smoldered.
Xiang turned them both back to manform, because he needed hands to tug the covers off the burned mess that was their bed and try to hide it, shoving it clumsily in the open space under the floor. Zhi could not help; he could only huddle on the packed rush floor of their room and cry helplessly, desperately trying to choke back the noise of his own sobs. Part of it was the terror of the dream that stayed with him, clung to him like a pall of smoke; his parents' bones rolling in the mud, the black cloud of corruption that crept inexorably towards them.
But mostly it was the terror of waking, here and now, knowing that he had destroyed their bed and terrified of what would happen if the destruction was found out. Tousan would be angry, so angry with them. He might punish them, but that was the least of Zhi's worries. Far worse was the thought that Father would be disgusted at him for destroying the blanket, that he would decide that he didn't want them any more, that he would decide to throw them away. Then they would be alone again, so alone, and hungry and cold and scared with nowhere to go and no one to help them.
Then the sliding door pushes back, and a tall figure looms in the dark space of the hallway beyond. Red eyes glow faintly in the dimness, and Zhi and Xiang both freeze, staring in fascination. Tousan is in manform, like he always is, like Father always is these days; but even though Tousan has never been in dragonform around them sometimes they think they can see it anyway, a dim outline around his head and shoulders like the proud arch of a serpentine neck and the faint rustling of silver scales.
Tousan carries a taper and he uses it to light one lamp in the room, then the other. The light makes it only too plain what he's done, the ugly gaping black hole in the mattress and the black ashes of the blanket smeared and ground into the rushes beyond, and Zhi only cries more desolately even as Xiang tries to wipe the black ashes off his hand and the guilty expression from his face. He cries so hard he can hardly breathe, his chest and throat and head throbbing with shame and fear.
Tousan leans over him and then strong arms pick him up and hold him close. One arm is covered with hard silver scales and tucks up his legs, supporting him; the other arm all soft scarred skin hugging across him back, pulling him into the warmth of that broad chest. He strokes Zhi's hair, clumsy but undeniably gentle, and murmurs something too low and soft for Zhi to understand, but it doesn't matter. He's not mad, he's not throwing them away, and the sobs trail off to sniffles as Zhi feels the clotted pain and misery in his chest and throat begin to melt away.
Tousan stands up, keeping Zhi carefully balanced against his chest with one arm, and with the other he leans down and gathers the ruined remains of the futon and rolls it all up into a ball. He opens the sliding door leading out to the garden and tosses the bundle out onto the grass to be dealt with in the morning, then goes to the other side of the room and cracks open the window so that air can flow in and through the room and out the door. Sweet cold breezes steal in, blow away the last of the smell of smoke and bad dreams.
Zhi stays cuddled against Tousan's chest as the big man goes from hall to closet and back to the bedroom, shaking out a new futon and laying down new blankets still sweet with the smell of the soap the laundress uses. All that crying has exhausted him, and when Tousan tucks him under the blanket and he's too limp and sleepy to protest when Tousan pulls his hand away. He sees him stand up and hold out his hand to Xiang, follows the two of their footsteps as they lead away, and hears through the space under the floor the running and splashing of water and the quiet murmurs as Xiang gets the ashes cleaned off his hands and arms and face.
Then Xiang is back, cuddling under a new fresh blanket and in a new nightgown that's clean and smooth, and his presence begins to warm the bedding in a way that needs no fire. Zhi is afraid that Tousan will leave them then, go back to the separate room he shares with Father and turn out the lights behind him, and when he's gone the dark shadows and dreams will come back again.
But instead that broad hand descends on his hair from where it trails out from under the blanket, and with slow and rhythmic strokes he soothes the fear and misery away. Zhi looks up long enough to see the shimmering aura of the dragon, shifting and shining from around Tousan's silhouette, and knows that they will never be left alone again.
"Sleep," Kurogane rumbles, and they do.
~end.
reikah! It's either a birthday fic or a "one year anniversary for being in the TRC fandom" fic. Either way, enjoy!Title: Trade Sweet Sleep For Fears
Rating: G or PG
Author's notes:
This was written to go with the "twin dragons" verse, art for which can be seen here. The basic premise is that Kurogane and Fai encounter another version of Fai and his twin in another world and adopt them. Except they're dragons. So Kurogane and Fai return to Nihon and set about the business of raising baby twin dragons.
At night, shadows stalked his dreams. They were vast and ponderous, blacking out the sky, silhouettes that wavered ominously against the torchlight and brought with them drowning waves of horror and dread. They would take away everything, and so Zhi tried to hide and make himself small, cuddling close with his twin in the fear and the dark, but no matter how still and quiet they stayed the shadows always found them.
His father's bones, rolling in the mud by the side of the river. His mother's body, a still and lifeless hulk around which the shadows swarmed, pecking and tearing away at the skin like a flock of carrion birds. A pool of evil black blood dripped from each beak, towards Xiang lying helpless in its path and Zhi breathed frantic spurts of fire to keep it away. Again and again he breathed, and each time fire touched it the cloud rolled back a little bit, only to redouble in darkness and size and roll towards them again.
Then Zhi awoke in the darkness, his brother's talons scrabbling over his scales and the stink of burning wool choking the room. He'd breathed fire in his sleep, and burned a hole through the blanket and the futon. The blanket was charred and crumbled in ashy flakes as they moved it, and a blackened hole in the center of the futon still smoked and smoldered.
Xiang turned them both back to manform, because he needed hands to tug the covers off the burned mess that was their bed and try to hide it, shoving it clumsily in the open space under the floor. Zhi could not help; he could only huddle on the packed rush floor of their room and cry helplessly, desperately trying to choke back the noise of his own sobs. Part of it was the terror of the dream that stayed with him, clung to him like a pall of smoke; his parents' bones rolling in the mud, the black cloud of corruption that crept inexorably towards them.
But mostly it was the terror of waking, here and now, knowing that he had destroyed their bed and terrified of what would happen if the destruction was found out. Tousan would be angry, so angry with them. He might punish them, but that was the least of Zhi's worries. Far worse was the thought that Father would be disgusted at him for destroying the blanket, that he would decide that he didn't want them any more, that he would decide to throw them away. Then they would be alone again, so alone, and hungry and cold and scared with nowhere to go and no one to help them.
Then the sliding door pushes back, and a tall figure looms in the dark space of the hallway beyond. Red eyes glow faintly in the dimness, and Zhi and Xiang both freeze, staring in fascination. Tousan is in manform, like he always is, like Father always is these days; but even though Tousan has never been in dragonform around them sometimes they think they can see it anyway, a dim outline around his head and shoulders like the proud arch of a serpentine neck and the faint rustling of silver scales.
Tousan carries a taper and he uses it to light one lamp in the room, then the other. The light makes it only too plain what he's done, the ugly gaping black hole in the mattress and the black ashes of the blanket smeared and ground into the rushes beyond, and Zhi only cries more desolately even as Xiang tries to wipe the black ashes off his hand and the guilty expression from his face. He cries so hard he can hardly breathe, his chest and throat and head throbbing with shame and fear.
Tousan leans over him and then strong arms pick him up and hold him close. One arm is covered with hard silver scales and tucks up his legs, supporting him; the other arm all soft scarred skin hugging across him back, pulling him into the warmth of that broad chest. He strokes Zhi's hair, clumsy but undeniably gentle, and murmurs something too low and soft for Zhi to understand, but it doesn't matter. He's not mad, he's not throwing them away, and the sobs trail off to sniffles as Zhi feels the clotted pain and misery in his chest and throat begin to melt away.
Tousan stands up, keeping Zhi carefully balanced against his chest with one arm, and with the other he leans down and gathers the ruined remains of the futon and rolls it all up into a ball. He opens the sliding door leading out to the garden and tosses the bundle out onto the grass to be dealt with in the morning, then goes to the other side of the room and cracks open the window so that air can flow in and through the room and out the door. Sweet cold breezes steal in, blow away the last of the smell of smoke and bad dreams.
Zhi stays cuddled against Tousan's chest as the big man goes from hall to closet and back to the bedroom, shaking out a new futon and laying down new blankets still sweet with the smell of the soap the laundress uses. All that crying has exhausted him, and when Tousan tucks him under the blanket and he's too limp and sleepy to protest when Tousan pulls his hand away. He sees him stand up and hold out his hand to Xiang, follows the two of their footsteps as they lead away, and hears through the space under the floor the running and splashing of water and the quiet murmurs as Xiang gets the ashes cleaned off his hands and arms and face.
Then Xiang is back, cuddling under a new fresh blanket and in a new nightgown that's clean and smooth, and his presence begins to warm the bedding in a way that needs no fire. Zhi is afraid that Tousan will leave them then, go back to the separate room he shares with Father and turn out the lights behind him, and when he's gone the dark shadows and dreams will come back again.
But instead that broad hand descends on his hair from where it trails out from under the blanket, and with slow and rhythmic strokes he soothes the fear and misery away. Zhi looks up long enough to see the shimmering aura of the dragon, shifting and shining from around Tousan's silhouette, and knows that they will never be left alone again.
"Sleep," Kurogane rumbles, and they do.
~end.
no subject
Date: 2012-05-19 08:05 pm (UTC)oh my gosh, those poor little babies, mikke ;_;
i love that they don't yet know their 'parents' aren't really dragons, i LOVE how quietly comforting kurogane is here with his picking up and cuddling and dealing with the damage and not shaming or frightening the twins further. and kurogane doing all those chores while cuddling zhi with one arm = ;_; HE IS SUCH A GOOD DAD.
ily so much and i am so happy with this i can't even. :DDDDDDD
no subject
Date: 2012-05-19 08:20 pm (UTC)meanwhile Fai sleeps through the entire thing. *snore*
no subject
Date: 2012-05-19 11:55 pm (UTC)Also, I really like how they can sort of 'see' Kuro's inner dragon there- or should I say Tousan? It also makes me sad to see what the twins went through, and the fear and shame they have- but then I am skhflsjfslj happy because of course Kuro-dad is the best dad ever and makes it better. (Fai, you lazy bastard, where are you? Your dragonchildren need you, dammit! XD)
no subject
Date: 2012-05-20 09:51 am (UTC)I say it's because Fai got sexed into total exhaustion last night and is sleeping it off.
You can pick your interpretation!
no subject
Date: 2012-05-20 03:49 am (UTC)BB DRAGONS! ;____;
no subject
Date: 2012-05-21 07:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-20 05:43 am (UTC)There are no words to describe my feels for this.
no subject
Date: 2012-05-21 07:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-20 05:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-21 07:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-21 03:00 am (UTC)The next time I am feeling blue I am going to read this, and while the baby heartbreaks will make me bawl, Kuro-tousan being the most perfect and wonderful everything in the whole wide world will heal everything that is wrong.
Poor sweet Xiang frantically trying to make things better for Zhi by discarding evidence! The way the babies think Fai is Father and can "see" Kurogane's inner dragon makes me want to pass out with joy and fangirl. Oh, and the image of Kurogane roving around and getting things done with just one hand because his other is busy holding a baby dragon's heart together... TAT <3
Oh God if I hadn't ever been in love with Kurogane before I WOULD BE NOW! *heart breaks and mends and breaks and mends over and over, world without end*
...is setting your blankies on fire the dragon equivalent of wetting the bed?
no subject
Date: 2012-05-21 04:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-21 04:26 am (UTC)