#The Matriarchal Authority au

[crew-stefan]

Irei refazer a au, Agora Sol e Lua irão ser gêmeos que nasceram ao mesmo tempo

/🇺🇲

I'll do the au, Now Sun and Moon will be twins who were born at the same time!

[togenabi]

the promised knight

knight!roronoa zoro x princess!reader

♡— after a lifetime apart, zoro finds his way back to you

word count♡— 8.7k (screams into the void)

genre♡— royalty au, childhood friends to strangers to lovers, slow burn bc a lot of things happen, but there's fluff bc I need there to be

content notes♡— fem!reader wears dresses, mentions of death and grief, very plot heavy, kuina and mihawk are here, canon-typical violence, original side characters, no use of y/n, proofread(ish), inaccurate royalty things, inaccurate chemistry/poisons/acids, yes I got the name florentia from ill be the matriarch

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— quick explanation!: a regent has no right to the throne, they're just someone stepping in temporarily while the next monarch is absent or unable to execute their powers. happy reading!!

Your happiest years were when everyone was together.

Those were the days you’d sneak out of your lessons to go play in the training grounds. You’d find your best friends arguing about something or other, fighting with wooden swords and chasing each other around.

Kuina and Zoro did their best to include you in whatever game they were playing. You found it all good fun, even if you were mostly being rescued or hidden away somewhere. The proud smiles on their faces when they saved you always made the wait for them worth it.

“Why do I have to play the bad guy?” A young Zoro whines, frowning deeply with shoulders slumped. His wooden sword hangs lazily in his hand, pointed to the ground. 

Opposite him, Kuina’s blade was up, stable and correct with proper posture. “Because we agreed I would save the princess today!”

You remember sending Zoro a small smile, trying to reassure him, “You can save me next time, Zoro. I promise.”

Zoro complained, but gave his all acting as a bandit out to rob you. You and Kuina would run into the meadow—hands held in each other’s—squealing and laughing. You’d always end up collapsed together; among the grass and the flowers. They would cheer and scream into the sky, happy that the great knights protected their princess once again.

But that same meadow is now covered with a blanket of melancholy. The colors aren’t as vibrant as they were back then. Flowers no longer bloom like they did. The children’s laughter has been replaced by a deafening silence.

Everything changed when Kuina died.

She was hit by a stray arrow, they said. They called it a tragic accident. 

More sadness only seemed to follow after she was gone. Zoro left without a word, abandoning his training, and you along with it. Your mother, Queen Florentia, passed due to an illness a few months after that. In a blink of an eye, you lost everything back then.

The large doors to your chambers slam shut, breaking you from your train of thought. The thud echoes into every corner before fading into noiselessness once more. 

A maid rushes in, completely out of breath and practically stumbling towards you. “Your Highness!” She gasps. Waving a hand, you gesture for her to calm down.

“Selma,” You pour her some water in a glass. It’s strange to see your personal maid so distressed. “What did you find?”

Practically inhaling the water, she places a hand over her heart before explaining, “You were right, Your Ladyship. The commander informed me that several knights had poison hidden in their quarters.”

Her eyes trail to the glass she’s holding, then to the pitcher. Selma’s face becomes appalled as it sinks in that you had poured her a drink. You cut her off before she can make a fuss about it.

“Never mind all that.” There are more pressing matters than decorum right now. “What else did Mihawk say? Have the knights been apprehended?”

“No, my Lady.” Selma retrieves a transparent vial from her pocket. “The commander said there's a chance the poisons were planted. Trustworthy men could have been framed… He discourages you from trusting any of them at all.”

The vial is small, barely larger than your thumb. To an untrained eye, it looks like nothing is there. You hold it up to the window, letting the sun’s setting rays shine through the glass.

There it is. A near-invisible, lavender sheen in liquid. The queen regent’s signature poison.

“Damn it all.” You sigh, falling into an armchair. 

It’s common knowledge that most of the people are loyal to Queen Regent Cassiopeia. Not to you, the rightful heir to the throne.

Ever since she took the position after your mother’s death, she’s been doing everything in her power to discredit you. Though she's not in the official line of succession, her goal is to become queen by any means necessary.

You’ve only been able to hold on for so long because there are still people loyal to your mother, like Commander Mihawk. However, it will take only one slip up for your standing to collapse. Cassiopeia knows this, and you suspect that she plans to completely ruin you at the upcoming knighting ceremony.

On a paneled wall in your room, encased in an ornate golden frame, hangs a portrait of Queen Florentia. The gold reminds you of the gilded dagger she gave you as a child. 

Subconsciously, your hand moves to rest over your pocket; where the dagger is hidden under your skirt. What would your mother have done in this situation?

You scan the painting as if the image would respond. It doesn’t, but your eyes settle on the necklace she’s wearing. It was her most prized possession, and she had promised to give it to you when you were older, but it’s sadly lost to time.

The vial grows heavy in your fist. Your mother would stop at nothing until Cassiopeia is defeated, so that’s what you’ll set out to do.

“Selma, get me some ink and parchment.” You order, feeling more determined. “I have a plan.”

Dracule Mihawk burned the note as soon as he finished reading it. Your idea was brilliant, if only a little complicated to execute. 

Cassiopeia will demand you choose a personal knight during the ceremony. Assuming all the knights are loyal to the queen regent, none of them would be a safe choice.

So, you asked Mihawk to hire a skilled fighter to pose as a knight. Someone whose loyalty cannot be bought. Immediately, he knew who to recruit. Though he warned you that you might not find the man… agreeable.

“I don’t care.” You replied stubbornly. “I can’t afford to be picky. Just make sure that he won’t kill me in my sleep.”

Mihawk muses that he might be killed by you in his sleep. Because in a shady, run-down tavern, he sits beside a familiar green-haired swordsman nursing a drink at the bar.

“Fancy seeing you here, commander.” Zoro spits out the title in disgust.

“It seems that some things never change.” Mihawk hums. “You’re still in the same place as you were when we last fought.”

“And your legend ends with you kissing up to that false queen.” Disappointment practically drips from his tone.

“And here you are,” There’s an amused glint in the knight commander’s eye. “...still not able to beat me, Roronoa Zoro.”

Zoro’s jaw clenches in frustration. He breathes out deeply, “What do you want, old man?”

“Join my knights.”

Scoffing, Zoro can’t believe his ears. Is this guy serious? “I’m no knight. Not anymore.”

“Are you sure about that?” Mihawk tests. “The princess needs someone not easily dissuaded.”

At the mention of you, Zoro freezes. He squints at the commander as it dawns on him, “You don’t serve that Cassiopeia bitch.”

“Obviously.”

“But why did you become commander only after Queen Florentia died?” Zoro asks. “Everyone thought you were bought off.”

“That’s besides the point.” Mihawk hisses. “I know you’ve been wanting to make it up to the princess. I’m giving you a chance to do that on a silver platter.”

Zoro stays quiet, eyes watching the alcohol ripple in his glass. He’s not drunk enough for this discussion. And he meant what he said, that he’s not a knight. That dream died with Kuina, and he chose to pursue less honorable ways to become stronger.

It’s funny how Mihawk, who was an outlaw, traded his jacket for a suit of armor. And now, he's trying to act righteous. But some things are just—

“It’s not too late to change things.” Mihawk attempts to persuade him, calmer this time. “Something tells me you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Shaking his head, Zoro can’t believe this man is talking like he knows him. “What do you know about regret?”

When the commander doesn’t respond, Zoro turns to see Mihawk’s face, a grave expression marks his features.

“I know far too much, I’m afraid.”

Zoro studies him for a moment longer, curious as to what he meant—but he doesn’t dare ask. Only an idiot would test Dracule Mihawk. 

This master swordsman, whom he’s looked up to for so many years, has changed drastically. Perhaps everyone has. It makes Zoro wonder how much you might’ve changed in the years he’s been gone.

You. He’s—there’s so much he wants to say. So much he wants to ask… but does he have the right to? 

Who is he kidding? He doesn’t. 

And yet, Zoro can’t help but wonder if he passes on this opportunity and regrets it, would he spend the rest of his life wishing he could make up for it?

After downing his drink, Zoro slams the glass on the bar counter.

“What do I need to do?”

Selma assists you with your hair and makeup on the day of the ceremony. She’s practically buzzing as she flutters around you. It’s nice that she’s still enthusiastic about things like these, even when dangers lurk in the shadows.

“You look stunning, Your Ladyship!” She gushes, adjusting the different layers of your dress so that it falls on you perfectly. “A vision, you are. Just like Queen Florentia.”

“Thank you.” You respond gratefully, despite not feeling as sure and confident as your mother was. Would that change, if you were to become queen?

A knock sounds on your door. Selma rushes to answer it, and lets Mihawk into your chambers. He steps in, but remains by the entryway.

“You look lovely, princess.” The commander bows to you in greeting. “I was instructed to escort you once you’re ready.”

Nodding, you approach him and hold onto his arm. “Let us be on our way.”

Keeping your face carefully neutral, you whisper to Mihawk under your breath, “Will you really not let me know the knight’s name? How am I supposed to know who to appoint?”

“You’ll know.” Mihawk pats your hand reassuringly. “Without a doubt, you’ll know. I just hope you’re not too hard on him.”

You side-eye him. “He’s not a convict or something, is he?”

Mihawk presses his mouth shut. This bastard, is he trying not to laugh? “You might actually prefer a convict over him.” 

That pulls a frown out of you that you cannot contain. What on earth is that supposed to mean? Is the man that bad? How are you supposed to mentally prepare with such vague warnings?

All thoughts of the mystery knight fade into the back of your mind, however, when you and Mihawk make your entrance at the throne room. 

The extravagant hall is decorated to the nines. Flags of different family crests hang from the ceiling. Flowers bloom at every window sill. You smile at it all, at your people—but it fails to reach your eyes. It’s difficult to truly smile when Cassiopeia stands dangerously close to your mother’s throne.

You curtsy when you reach the steps, one hand still on Mihawk’s arm as the fabric of your skirt dips onto the floor. You hear murmurs of approval from the ministers in the front row, pleased to see the good relationship between the princess and queen regent.

But they don’t see through your gloves, how your grip on your skirt is tense and far too tight. They don’t see how Cassiopeia’s smile is truly a smirk when you lower your head to her.

“Lovely to have you here, darling.” She says, and you fight the urge to laugh. ‘Lovely’ would be if she accepted her place and let go of her greed. 

Mihawk guides you to the smaller throne on the left. This has been your seat since you were born. If Cassiopeia had her way, it would be your seat until the end of your days.

She glides to the center of the dais, the train of her excessive dress flows like a river after her. She stands; graceful, powerful and smiling—but she will never be happy until she can sit on the throne and wear your mother’s crown.

Whatever it takes, you will find a way to stop her.

“Welcome to the long-awaited knighting ceremony.” Cassiopeia addresses the audience. “It is an honor to have the kingdom’s finest pledge to serve and protect us.”

The ceremony proceeds to speeches from several dignitaries. Mihawk delivers a short yet intense declamation about the knightage being the greatest honor; and hands the queen regent an elaborate, bejeweled sword.

“These warriors before us today are hereby called forward to receive Knighthood. The kingdom will forever be grateful for your service.” Cassiopeia proclaims.

Attentively observing the knights lined up, you keep an eye out for the one Mihawk recruited for you. One at a time, Cassiopeia announces their name before tapping their shoulders with the ornamental blade.

You grow restless as the line dwindles. Frustrated, you throw questioning looks at the commander’s direction. He skillfully avoids your gaze. The nerve.

When only about five men are left, you begin to study them all and weigh your options. Perhaps you should pick someone with a smaller build, so that you can have a better chance of escaping? You also spotted someone who appeared clumsy. If you were to outsmart him, your odds of surviving weren’t so bleak.

But then—dramatically, as if in slow motion—the great doors to the throne room opened with a loud, booming sound. Everyone turned as light poured into the hall.

A swordsman makes his entrance. His armor is unassuming, but the three blades at his side demand attention. He wears a helmet over his head, but even after so much time, you’d know those eyes anywhere.

Mihawk was right. You would have preferred a convict—or maybe some rogue, or a thief who would rob you blind. You would have preferred anyone over Roronoa Zoro.

You thought you’d never see him again, but he’s here, marching towards the end of the line. You gape at him, feeling too many emotions all at once. Why is he here? Why now?

Mihawk intercepts Cassiopeia before she can question Zoro’s identity. “Forgive me, queen regent. This young man ran late due to an errand I sent him out on.” 

How brilliant of him. Cassiopeia hates unexpected interruptions, but would never express her frustrations openly with so many people watching.

It’s amusing to see her grin and bear it. “That’s… quite alright, commander. I’m glad he made it before the end of the ceremony.”

When only Zoro remains to be appointed, you stand and call for the queen regent’s attention.

“Should he accept, this man shall be my personal knight.” You declare as Zoro’s gaze meets yours.

“What of your decision, knight?” Cassiopeia asks. Zoro nods, and the queen regent’s gaze sharpens. She understands that something is amiss, but passes the decorated blade to you without a word.

Back when you were children, you used to dream of this moment together. Kuina and Zoro would kneel before you on the grass beneath a shining sun, pledging their unwavering loyalty as you tap their shoulders with a stick.

You’re no longer children, but as Zoro kneels before you now, you still feel like a child all the same. Your clothes feel too big. The throne room is too vast; the ceiling too high. The sword is too heavy in your hands as you raise it.

“Roronoa Zoro. I hereby dub thee into the honorable order of knights as my chosen protector.” The blade lands on his shoulder—his right first, then the other. You pray to the stars that no one notices your hold quivering.

“Arise, Sir Zoro, and be recognized.”

You’re no longer children, but you’re still here. Playing a different sort of game.

Mihawk, the wise man that he is, makes himself scarce after the ceremony. You’re left to awkwardly journey back to your chambers with Zoro in tow. He doesn’t speak a word the entire time, but you can feel his eyes burning a hole through the back of your head. 

Selma is there when you get back, your usual afternoon refreshments prepared. She approaches you, but stops short when she sees Zoro.

“Leave us.” You tell her. She obeys, albeit reluctantly—looking back over her shoulder more than once as she exits.

After the door closes shut, the outside world feels a million miles away; making the air feel tense. You hastily take off your gloves, the fabric suddenly feels constricting against your skin. Every fiber of your being wants to scream at him.

Roronoa Zoro. Your best friend who had left all those years ago. You don’t even know where to start. 

Maybe throwing something at him will make you feel better. 

You throw one of your gloves. The fabric hits his chest before falling pathetically. 

“Seriously?” Zoro frowns at you, unimpressed. You throw the other one. It meets the same fate.

Grumbling under his breath, Zoro takes off his helmet. It vexes you how you subconsciously hold your breath until you see his face.

You huff skeptically, “Why are you here?”

“Mihawk said you needed help.” He answers with a shrug, causing his armor clink. 

After a breath, he speaks cautiously, “I didn’t know things had gotten this bad.”

“How could you have known?” You bite back, “You left, Zoro.”

In a sense, you understand why Mihawk chose him. You asked for someone who wouldn’t kill you in your sleep, and Zoro—at least, the one you knew—definitely wouldn’t.

Some (rational) part of your brain is telling you to keep quiet and accept his help. With Cassiopeia planning a mutiny, time is something you don’t have a lot of. 

But your heart still feels angry and hurt when you see his—stupidly handsome—face. The years just had to treat him well, didn’t they?

“I’m thankful for your help,” You admit disgruntledly. “But I’m not happy about it.”

Zoro calls your name. It makes your heart ache a bit, but you hold a hand up to silence him. 

“Please, just—I need time to process this, Zoro.” Turning away from the knight, your eyes find the window. The sunset paints the meadow in deep oranges and blues. It doesn’t make you feel any better.

“...We’ll talk tomorrow.” You promise, your tiredness evident from your tone.

Zoro lingers, hesitating. But he doesn’t push you. You hear his armor shift as he bows before he leaves.

That night, Zoro stands guard outside your door. It’s good that no one else is around, it allows him to think in peace. About you.

The last time Zoro saw you, you were a small thing, getting dirt on the edge of your skirt. When he saw you today, sullying even the path you walked on felt like a crime. 

He knew you would be mad. He had prepared himself to be yelled at. Maybe he thought you would cry. How much you went through didn’t really sink in until he saw how exhausted you were. 

All the things he wanted to say, every apology and excuse, fade into nothing. The first thing he wants to tell you is how thankful he is that you’re still alive. It doesn’t matter that you stay mad at him forever, he’ll protect you for just as long.

Footsteps sound through the dim hallway. Zoro rests a hand on his blades, ready to fight back anyone who poses a threat. A knight he’s not acquainted with approaches, his steps staggering just a bit. The man carries a bottle of alcohol.

“Hey! New guy!” The stranger bellows. “This ’ere is a little something we prepared for ya, since yous didn’t eat dinner with us.” Zoro makes a mental note that they’ve been watching him.

“Take it, take it.” The knight tries to shove the bottle into Zoro’s hands. At the last second, Zoro spots a knife the man hides behind his back.

Quick on his feet, Zoro jabs the man’s neck, causing him to stumble. The knight charges at him, but Zoro effortlessly dodges. Grabbing the knight’s shoulder, Zoro slams his head onto the stone wall.

The bottle clatters to the floor as his opponent collapses, looking up at him in fear. Picking up the glass, Zoro sniffs at its contents. It’s laced with some sort of sedative. 

Zoro pries the knight’s jaw open before pouring the drugged beverage into his mouth. The amber liquid spills. The man coughs, gurgling and struggling in vain until he slumps onto the ground.

Observing the bottle inquisitively, Zoro shakes his head before dropping it again. What kind of amateurish attempt was this? Is the queen regent testing his skills? 

If anything, all this managed to do was—Zoro starts, turning to your door in alarm—…divert his attention.

Not a second later, he kicks down your door. The elaborately carved wood falls from its hinges, dust clouds billow once it crashes on the previously spotless tiles of your room.

You’re fighting off three large strangers clad in black, a dagger in your hand. Zoro tries not to think about how your eyes softened in relief when they landed on him as he cuts down one of the intruders. Maybe you still care for him a little.

“Took you long enough!” Or not.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” He grunts back, slashing his sword at someone charging towards you. Zoro only realizes the deeper meaning to his words when you make a face. 

“Don’t make being late a habit, Zoro!” Stabbing an intruder’s side, you quip at him, “You and your dramatic entrances, I swear.”

Zoro bites back a grin. He missed you more than you’ll ever know. 

After taking down one of the intruders, you hide in your wardrobe as Zoro deals with the rest.

It would be smart to lock the door. Barricade it, so that no one can get to you on the off chance Zoro is defeated. But you don’t. You keep the door ajar to watch everything unfold. The way he fights is a captivating sight.

Look at him. Your knight in lackluster armor. Protecting you like how you always talked about as kids. He’s wielding two blades, one for each perpetrator still standing. You blink in surprise when you make out the third, sheathed blade. Kuina’s.

The more you examine him, the more you see how different he seems. He carries himself more confidently, unlike that boy who whined about roles, responsibilities and challenges. 

You also see how gruff he’s become. He’s grown stronger, for sure, but you get the sense that he’s closed himself off from the world. Perhaps the years weren’t as kind to him as you'd thought.

The last intruder lets out a pitiful cry as Zoro knocks him unconscious.

“I’ll tie them up and let Mihawk deal with them in the morning.” Zoro says, pausing to breathe for a moment before dragging the men out by their feet.

Emerging from your wardrobe, you become dismayed at the sight of your room in such a state. “Did you really have to kick down the door?” You groan.

Surprisingly, Zoro blanks, appearing sheepish. “...I didn’t know it would break like that. I just—you should get a damn better door.” He mumbles, heaving the doors up and resting them against the wall outside.

When he comes back from restraining the intruders, he stands before you awkwardly—like he doesn’t know what to do when he’s not fighting or cleaning up bodies.

No one says anything. You both just take each other in, not completely recognizing the person that looks back.

You don’t feel so angry at him anymore. When all’s said and done, everyone has different ways of dealing with grief. Your heart only grows conflicted, wishing you had been there for each other instead of being apart. Goodness knows you could have used someone by your side. You’re sure he did as well.

“I—” Zoro falters. “...I’m glad you’re okay.”

‘Okay’ isn’t how you would describe your current state, but you nod anyway. 

“You too, Zoro.”

In a secluded alcove in the royal gardens the following afternoon, you invite Mihawk for tea on the pretense of thanking him for your newly sworn knight. The story that spread was that you would have been done for were it not for Zoro. You don’t want to think about how true that might be.

“The queen regent is furious you were able to secure a knight loyal to you.” Mihawk informs you as he helps himself to some pastries. “We should avoid meeting for a while, lest she suspect anything of me.”

“Alright.” You agree. “Selma also informed me that we can gather statements from mistreated staff.” You show Mihawk a list of names. “If enough of them support us, and if we can prove Cassiopeia orchestrated what happened last night… We can take her down.”

“She will be busy attending a gala this evening. I’ll make sure no one is near her office while she’s gone.” Mihawk turns to Zoro, who is standing guard behind you, sending him a fearsome look. “Those men got a tad too close last night—”

“Mihawk.” You warn him to drop it. He doesn’t.

“Ensure that it doesn’t happen again, young man.” 

“It won’t.” Zoro replies icily. The commander only huffs in response. 

‘It won't happen.’, he said. But trouble finds you when Zoro steps on a tripwire in Cassiopeia's office. Arrows soar, launching from scattered, hidden contraptions. Zoro shoves you into a bookshelf, covering your frame with his.

“So much for her not finding out we were here.” You remark sarcastically, waiting for him to step back.

But then, as they cage your head, Zoro’s arms tense up. His expression contorts in discomfort.

“...Zoro?” Raising your hands, you cradle the sides of his face.

“Damn arrows,” He growls. “I think they’re poisoned.”

“What?!” You gasp, ducking under his arm to check his back. You find a wound where an arrow grazed his skin. “Of course you get injured when you don’t wear your armor.”

“Why don’t you try sneaking around in that thing, then?” Zoro argues, but you’re startled when the wound begins to bleed.

“We need to get you treated.” Panicking, you grab his arm and pull him along. He doesn’t budge. “Zoro, we should go.”

“No.” He refuses, hissing in pain all the while. “That bitch won’t let us find a way in here again. Let’s just be quick.”

“...Fine.” You cave, still worried, hating that he’s right. “At least stay still, search the desk. I’ll handle everything else.”

Zoro relents, opening every drawer and scanning every document in them. You turn your attention to the shelves, trying to find hidden compartments or anything that looks remotely suspicious.

It's not long before a loud crash makes you wince. Zoro found something.

A panel beneath the desk detaches, revealing an ornate box. Studying it, you hum, “It looks like we’ll need a key.” Zoro unsheathes one of his blades, cutting through the lock until it cracks open. 

You shake your head. “Or we could do that, sure.”

However, instead of the nefarious plans or blueprints you were hoping for, you find old papers. All of them yellowing with age. 

“It’s your handwriting.” Zoro points out, picking up the first document.

“What?” You lean in, reading the file over his shoulder. It’s a letter written to acknowledge a transfer of money. But the amount is astronomical, and you don’t remember signing anything of the sort.

“Look at the date.” Pointing to the corner, it reads more than ten years ago. And then it clicks, “My mother wrote this.”

“There’s more than one.” Zoro sifts through the papers, counting over ten.

“All of them are addressed to��� Shimotsuki Koushirou?” He reads the name slowly. You look at each other, confused. Why would Queen Florentia be sending payments to Kuina’s father?

A tall longcase clock chimes to signal the hour. If you clean up now and review the evidence later, you can make it look like you were never here. You instruct Zoro to pack up the box.

“We should head out soon.” You say, moving to pick up the arrows scattered on the floor. 

“Be careful.” Zoro reminds you.

“I am.” You show him that you’re holding the arrows by their tail ends. “You can go ahead, if you want. Get that wound treated.”

“Do you really think I would leave you?” You can’t help the incredulous look you send his way. 

“...Forget I said anything.”

Back in your chambers, you twirl an arrow you decided to keep as evidence while examining the documents sprawled out on your carpet. 

Zoro grabs it from your hand. “I thought I told you to be careful with that.”

You think aloud as he sets the arrow to the side, “I just can’t figure out why my mother gave Koushirou so much money.”

“Maybe she felt bad about the accident.” Your swordsman suggests. “We all did.”

“But why did she have to keep it quiet…” Mumbling in thought, you read the last receipt Queen Florentia signed. It had been penned the week of her death.

The sky grows darker, and it becomes more difficult to see. Zoro strikes a match to light a few candles, bathing the room in a subtle, warm light.

Beneath the dim, flickering flames, the sharp arrow on your tea table glints ominously. 

It took you a long while to get over spacing out whenever you saw an arrow. It was one of the things that affected you after Kuina’s passing.

Sometimes, you think of how much better everything would be if she was still here. If it weren’t for that—

…accident?

“Zoro?” Your voice is unsteady, “...What do you remember about Kuina’s death?”

“It was some new guy at the training grounds.” He answers, frowning as he recalls what happened. “He misfired, and his knighthood got revoked after that.”

“But,” Memories come flooding back as you try to piece things together. “If the archers were practicing that day, what was Kuina doing in the grounds?”

“Kuina wasn’t in the grounds.” Zoro corrects you. “She was in that meadow we always went to.” 

He points to the view outside, raising a finger to trace the horizon. “The arrow flew through the fence, but it was really dangerous, even—” 

Zoro turns back to you with wide eyes. “Even the queen was almost hit! Holy shit, she was there to observe that day.” 

You blink at him in disbelief, “My mother was the real target.”

“And she didn’t want the culprit to know she realized, which is why she kept quiet about the money.” 

You collapse into a chair as you run your hands over your head. “Did anyone ever check the arrow for poison?”

“No.” Zoro’s face crumples. “She was hit straight in the heart... She wouldn’t have made it even if it wasn’t poisoned.”

“Oh, Kuina…” You choke back a sob, covering your face with both hands. “I’m so sorry it took us this long.”

“Wait.” Zoro calls out your name, taking your hand and kneeling in front of you. The strength of his grip hurts, but you don’t mind it. You need to feel that he’s with you right now; especially when his next question makes your heart fall through the floor.

“How did your mother die?” 

“She—she got sick. A lot of our people got sick that year.” You answer shakily, not liking where this is going. “Do you think…”

“Queen Florentia could have been poisoned.” Zoro whispers. “And I bet that fake bitch was responsible for it. For Kuina’s death too.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” You counter, “Cassiopeia deals with poisons, sure, but she wasn’t even in the kingdom yet then.” 

“...Someone must have betrayed your mother so Cassiopeia could be queen regent.” He suggests, rubbing circles into your palm. “Because isn’t it convenient, how she was there to bring the people together after Her Majesty died?”

It’s confusing how the world seems to have slowed down, and yet your mind is spinning so quickly, you can’t process anything. You squeeze Zoro’s hand to anchor you, but you shatter all the same. 

“I hate everything.” You cry, tears streaming down your face. “I hate how I didn’t know—but we were kids! How were we supposed to know? And, I hate feeling so powerless. What—how, are we going to fix this?”

“We’ll find a way, I promise.” Zoro moves to embrace your form, but you glare at him.

“You. I hate you too.” You push him away weakly, but he doesn’t let you go. “I—I hate that you left, Zoro… You have no idea how lost I was.”

His eyes glisten with tears. “I was lost without you too.”

Zoro feels you melt into his arms. Your strength just vanishes, and you slump forward until your forehead touches his.

“...Don’t leave me then.” You whisper. You beg.

He holds your cheek, wiping your tears with his thumb. “Never.”

The last thing you remember before falling asleep is Zoro pressing the softest kiss to your temple as he tucks you in bed.

Selma barges in the next morning, slamming the (newly repaired) doors open. As you rub the sleep from your eyes, you’re starting to feel sad for the abuse your doors have been going through lately.

“Princess! Your Ladyship! Your Highness—” She stops abruptly, covering her mouth, looking scandalized. What is she so flabbergasted by—

Only then do you see Zoro sleeping on the floor beside you. He’s leaning on the bed, using his forearms as a pillow. One of his hands is intertwined tightly with yours.

“Your Highness!” Selma gasps playfully, gesturing to your mother’s portrait. “Right in front of Her Majesty!”

“Selma,” You sit up, letting go of Zoro’s hand. “Did you have anything important to report?”

“Ah!” She exclaims, face becoming worried once more, “The commander has been imprisoned!”

You curse, shaking Zoro’s shoulder to wake him. “Couldn’t you have told me that first?”

“Forgive me, princess. It’s not everyday I see you holding hands with a man. May I ask who confessed first, Your Highness?”

“Oh my god, Selma.” You groan. “Just go prepare my clothes.”

“Shall I dress you, or will Sir Zoro—”

“Selma!”

If Zoro heard any of Selma’s ramblings, he’s excellent at hiding it. You both get ready in record time. After which, he leads the way to the dungeons; careful to make sure you don’t run into anyone. 

“We can sneak him out through that secret passage we used to play in.” You whisper, your knight nods. 

“When we get to him, break the lock with your dagger. I’ll stand guard in case someone comes over.”

But someone already beat you to Mihawk’s cell. Zoro pulls you into a shadowed corner to hide.

The queen regent paces in front of the bars, her extravagant dress and cape out of place in this gloomy dungeon. 

Mihawk is on the ground, his wrists chained with heavy shackles. Yoru is noticeably missing from his back. Seeing him like this is heartbreaking.

“I should have known you’d help that wench.” Cassiopeia sneers. “You’ll regret not siding with me soon enough, Dracule.”

“Now that you’ve found me out, I can finally ask you to stop calling me that.” Mihawk yawns. “My name always sounded revolting in your voice.” Crazy bastard, will it kill him to try to stay alive?

“But Florentia called you that, didn’t she?” 

Zoro squints at how something about Mihawk changes at the mention of your mother. It’s almost imperceptible, but the air shifts dangerously. The queen regent should watch her mouth.

“Her name sounds revolting in your voice too.”

Cassiopeia scoffs. “You’re just like her. Thinking you’re better than everyone else.”

“Aren’t you talking about yourself?” Mihawk leans back, crossing his legs. “That’s not a good habit, Cassie.”

The queen regent kicks the cell. Mihawk doesn't flinch as she snarls, “I’ll deal with the princess and that knight... I’ll make you watch as the light fades from their eyes.” Gathering her skirt, her heels clack loudly as she stomps away.

As soon as she’s out of earshot, you and Zoro run to the commander.

“Mihawk!” You call out as you stab the lock with your dagger. It crumbles to the ground after a few strikes. “What happened? What did she charge you with?”

“Treason, apparently.” He shrugs, the chains holding him rattling together.

Mihawk goes on as you break his shackles, “This kingdom should be grateful we’re trying at all. We could easily leave them to their own devices—” You frown at him. 

“...But of course, we won’t do that.”

Sneaking into the library, you regroup with Selma; who passes on vital information.

“The queen regent has the palace on lockdown. Everyone has orders to take you in.” She tells you. “But I’ve rallied the staff. We're going to plead your case to the ministers, Your Highness.”

“Thank you. Do you have my mother's letters?” She nods. “Good. Use them well. I'll make sure your efforts will not go to waste.” You say, giving her hands a firm squeeze. 

“Where’s that fake queen now?” Zoro looks eager for a fight.

“One of the butlers said that the queen regent disappears sometimes, and no one knows where she goes.” Selma explains, passing you a note from her source. “There are rumors that she smells like grass when she returns.”

Mihawk lets out a disbelieving laugh, “She must be at the secret garden.”

“The what?” You ask. That sounds exactly like something you would have loved as a child, but why haven’t you heard of it before?

“It’s a place reserved for queens. Only crowned monarchs should be allowed in there, or even know where it is.” He says. “That woman truly doesn’t know her place.”

“Why do you know about it?” Zoro asks.

After a pause, the older swordsman deflects, “I’ve been called a queen once.”

“Mihawk,” You urge him to be serious. “Can you take us there?”

Before he responds, Mihawk looks at you with something you can’t fully discern, as if he’s recalling an old memory.

“Of course. It’s your birthright, after all.”

The entrance to the secret garden is hidden in a passageway beneath the greenhouse. You imagine your mother walking along this path, to a sanctuary she could truly call her own.

But the vision darkens when you think of how Cassiopeia has been using the space all this time. You hope you're still able to recognize traces of your mother when you get there.

An iron gate stands at the end of the path. Vines tangle through the metal spirals and flowers. Mihawk holds a finger to his lips, carefully opening the gates without a sound except for the rustling of leaves. You all crouch behind a large plant that fans out, over your heads.

And then, you see it. You see what your mother left for you.

The centerpiece of the garden is an intricate pedestal, Yoru is propped up against it. On top of it, however, is a glass case displaying your mother’s most treasured golden necklace.

You almost want to run to it, but Zoro grabs your arm, warning you not to take another step. He nods towards where Cassiopeia stands in front of oddly shaped vials and strange devices containing diff chemicals. She douses a sword with an eerie purple liquid as she speaks.

“Three against one... That hardly seems fair.” She kisses her teeth. Looking over her shoulder, she glares. “Why don’t we fight on even ground?”

Out of nowhere, a large cage falls towards the three of you. Mihawk pushes you and Zoro out of the way, but isn’t able to avoid the cage himself.

“And I just escaped. What a shame.” Mihawk fusses, but you can see that he’s relieved you’re alright.

“Maybe you’re meant to be in a cell, Dracule.” Cassiopeia remarks. “I’ll have your kids join you shortly.”

There’s only one of her, this should be easy, right?

She throws a bottle at you. Luckily, you’re able to dodge it. The bottle shatters, its contents spilling over the bystanding greenery. The liquid turns out to be acid, burning through the foliage and leaving a smoky trail. 

Well, fuck.

Zoro also seems to realize how serious this fight is. For the first time since you’ve reunited, he unsheathes Kuina’s sword, placing the hilt in his mouth.

You brandish your dagger as you yell, “Really? You bite it? What would Kuina say?” He sends you a look. You try not to laugh.

And in the next second, you charge at Cassiopeia together.

It’s difficult to get close enough to land a hit. The queen regent leads you in a dance of acids and poisons. You dodge one bottle only to be met with the toxic end of her blade. It seems that your mother’s dagger won’t be enough in this fight.

“I didn't get this far to be stopped by the likes of you!” Shrieking, she lunges at you.

“You will never be queen!” You roar back.

Behind her, your eyes spot Yoru leaning on the pedestal. The blade is large and intimidating, and you’re not entirely sure if you can wield it correctly… But you might not have a choice right now.

As you were distracted, Cassiopeia’s sword almost cuts through your side. Panicking, you stumble backwards. Zoro slashes at your enemy’s wrist. Her hold on the poisoned weapon falters. It plummets with a clang.

While she’s occupied with Zoro, you rush towards Yoru. From behind the bars, Mihawk watches, holding his breath as you wrap both hands around Yoru’s hilt—but the damn thing is too heavy. 

“Dear princess, you should have learned from your mother!” Cassiopeia smashes a bottle on Zoro’s head. “Stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong!”

The glass explodes into countless glittering shards. A red gas escapes into the air, and your knight inhales far too much of it.

He falls, and for that moment, the entire rest of the world vanishes until all you see is him. Your ears start to ring. His grip loosens on his swords. 

No. Please. Not him. Not anyone else. No more.

Mihawk calls your name. You turn to him, on the verge of breaking down. But then, he nods once, slowly. The action reminds you to breathe—filling you with an overwhelming sense of strength. You can do this.

Screaming, you attempt to brandish Yoru again. 

You swing the legendary greatsword in a perfect arc. Once it collides with the ground, the air ripples. Power surges through an invisible force headed straight for the queen regent. She tries to run, but the hit lands.

Her eyes don’t stray from yours as she collapses. In her final moments, she falls from grace, howling in agony and rage. 

As a last ditch attempt, she throws one last vial of acid at Zoro. You’re about to curse the world all over again as you run to stop it.

Mihawk throws a tiny sword like a dart, miraculously breaking the container before it lands on your knight. Your knees give out, and you pull Zoro into your arms as you gasp for air.

It’s done.

Zoro wakes up to the feeling of you checking his temperature. Your hand is warm against his forehead, making him want to reach up and hold it. He should probably wake up and check on you now.

“Oh.” He hears Mihawk speak, “I didn’t realize your relationship took a certain… turn.”

On second thought, another minute of sleep won’t hurt.

“Not you too, Mihawk.” You groan. “I get enough of that from Selma.”

“Ah, yes. I heard.” The swordsman deadpans, “Hand holding. How scandalous.”

“Alright, if you’re not going to be of any help whatsoever, please just go.”

“If you wanted time alone with him, you could have just said so.”

“Goodbye, Mihawk.”

Zoro hears you escort Mihawk out, and he takes the moment alone to open his eyes. He’s in his quarters, which is a few doors down from yours so that he can easily get to you. 

Not that he stays here often, Zoro prefers standing guard outside your chambers. It’s strange how he lasted years without seeing you, because now that you’re back in each other’s lives, he becomes restless whenever you’re not around. 

Like right now. What’s taking you so long?

The door opens. Zoro perks up, but deflates when he sees that it’s Selma bringing in a pitcher of water. 

“You could’ve at least hidden your disappointment better, Sir Zoro.” She huffs at him, taking full offense. “I’ll go get your princess.”

“Oh!” She yelps excitedly, “My bad, it’s queen anointed now, isn’t it?”

Zoro smiles, his voice raspy with sleep, “That has a nice ring to it.”

“Indeed, it does.” Selma nods, bidding him farewell. 

He doesn’t have to wait long to hear your rushing footsteps. The door opens again to reveal you, this time. Your eyes shine in that really pretty way they do when you’re happy. He’s glad that’s among the things that didn’t change.

Zoro opens his arms, inviting you, “Come here.”

Not needing to be told twice, you fall into his arms, burying your face in his chest.

“You’re okay.” You murmur.

“I wasn’t about to miss your coronation, Your Majesty.” Zoro pokes your nose. He did that a lot when you were kids, you forgot how much you liked it.

“Thank you for being okay.” Leaning down, you kiss his cheek softly.

Zoro brushes his fingers through your hair. He holds your face in his hands, tracing your features as if that will help him memorize the happiness he feels in his heart. The sort of happiness he thought was lost to him forever.

“Hey,” Zoro speaks your name with care. “I love you a lot, you know.”

He always envisioned confessing to you in some dramatic, elaborate way that you’d deserve. There could have been a beautiful sunset. He would’ve brought flowers.

But he was wrong. All he needs are the words themselves, and you—smiling the way you’re smiling at him now. 

You laugh, “I might love you more, I think.”

Zoro shakes his head, sitting up so that he can bring his face to yours properly. “Doubt it.”

The kiss tastes like magic, like you were always meant to find each other's lips. His heart starts doing something funny, and he has to pull you closer—hold you tighter. You respond eagerly, kissing him back so intoxicatingly that he’ll remember the softness of your lips for as long as he lives.

Later that week, your coronation is a grand and extravagant affair.

When Cassiopeia's misdeeds came to light, the people banded together to celebrate her downfall. Those loyal to her either surrendered or tried to escape. Although none of them were able to get away, since Zoro and Mihawk were ruthless towards those involved in the attempted mutiny.

The crown on your head will take some to get used to. It still feels like you're borrowing something of your mother's; but instead of shying away from it like you had before, you step into it openly. You're ready to become a successor worthy to carry on her legacy of kindness and strength.

Uncharted these waters may be, at least you have Zoro now, who would dive into any perilous sea right after you.

Escaping the celebratory banquet and the revelries, you visit Queen Florentia and Kuina's graves with Zoro. It's only right that you pay respects together.

You leave flowers on your mother's headstone, thanking her for everything she did. You're startled when Zoro takes one of his swords, holding it in front of him as he kneels in front of the previous queen.

“Your Majesty, Queen Florentia,” He speaks, his tone steady and sure. “I, Roronoa Zoro, vow to never leave your daughter’s side. I will protect her until I draw my last breath. I swear to cherish her, and to love her even in my next life.”

What is he doing, making you cry like this? It turns out that emotional boy you knew is still somewhere in there. Your heart feels full, knowing your mother would have appreciated the gesture.

As you're about to move on to Kuina's grave, Zoro motions for you to go ahead without him. You look at him strangely, but do as he says to give him some space. 

Mihawk emerges from the treeline when you've gone far enough.

“You look like you’re about to leave without saying goodbye.” Zoro remarks.

“Of course you’d know how that works, hm?” Mihawk challenges, raising a sharp brow. “Try even thinking about leaving and I’ll return to make sure it’s your last thought."

“Didn't you just hear the oath I made to the love of your life?” Zoro turns to Florentia's tombstone again. “Your Majesty, back me up here.”

“She would have approved of you.” Mihawk’s frown is unimpressed, but his gaze is unmistakably caring. 

“...Take care of her, Zoro.”

“Of course. I promise.”

As Mihawk walks away, Zoro asks him one last question, “How are your regrets now, old man?”

The former commander’s shoulders shake in a mixture of amusement and relief. “I suspect they'll heal, with time.”

When Zoro catches up to you at Kuina's grave, you're grinning at him. He can picture that same grin on Kuina's face if she were here. 

“We were just talking about you.” You jest, “All bad things, too.”

“You had nothing to talk about, then.” Zoro sits on the grass beside you. “I’m perfect for you.”

Appalled, you scoff and turn to Kuina's headstone. “Can you believe this guy?”

That day, you talked for hours, even after the sun had set. And on the trek back to the palace, a soft breeze caressed your skin. It felt like Kuina encouraging you, sending you off onto the next chapter of your lives.

Zoro becomes Captain of the Royal Guard once Mihawk leaves. He's teaching you about weapons and self defense when he picks up your dagger to inspect it, turning it this way and that curiously.

“Is there something wrong with it?” You ask, observing it too.

“This pattern and material.” Zoro says, tracing a certain swirl on the weapon. “I feel like I've seen it before.”

“Ah,” He says in realization, tracing a finger down your neck and making you shiver. “It’s the pattern on your necklace.”

“My mother must have had them made together.” You say, unclasping the chain before handing it to him.

There's a gap in the center of the pendant. Thin and barely noticeable, but it looks like it can be opened by something sharp.

“Do you mind if I,” Zoro gestures at the dagger.

“Just don't break it.” You say. “Treat it like my heart.”

Zoro makes a face that pulls a laugh out of you. “I would never do this to your heart.” Aw. You might have melted a little.

The tip of the blade slots perfectly into the pendant. After twisting it slowly like a key, the metal clicks to reveal: a locket.

Handing it over to you carefully, Zoro lets you open it the rest of the way. Inside, there are images drawn on two panels. You, as a child on one side… and Mihawk on the other. Now you understand why your mother treasured this so much. Tearing up, you sigh.

“You’re not surprised.” Zoro notes.

“...I think a part of me always knew.” You respond. “And, I definitely felt something when I held Yoru. No wonder why.”

Treading carefully, Zoro wraps his arms around your waist as he asks, “You’re not upset that he left?”

“But he didn’t. He’ll always be there for me, and so will you.” You smile up at him. “I’m happy I found my family again.”

Many years ago…

The grass on the meadow bristles gently in the wind. Dusk bathes the land in a dreamy, gold and purple hue. 

After a day filled with imaginary adventures, two children wave their dearest friend goodbye. The princess smiles at them fondly before returning to the castle.

Kuina grins, face eager as she points her training sword to the sky. “I’ll be her knight someday. I’ll be commander and everything.”

Zoro jolts, immediately expressing in protest, “No, I’ll be the one to protect her! I’ll be commander!”

“Oh yeah?” The girl’s smile turns knowing. She pokes Zoro’s waist with her sword. “How will you do that? Aren’t you going to marry her?”

Stunned, Zoro can only stare at her in response. A blush creeps up his neck, reddening the tips of his ears. Kuina seizes the opportunity to make a run for it.

“Princess, wait up! Zoro wants to tell you something!”

“Kuina! Get back here!”

read the companion piece / my notes / the timeline of this story (in mihawk's perspective) here : "the taste of ale"

© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added to my taglist ♡

tags: @songsofadelaide-archive @ay0nha @amitydoodlez @sweetexistentialism @murnsondock @starszns @msmisasoup @writingmysanity @hotchocolattee @dimplewonie @hearts4zoro @kenkenmaaa @appalost @commanderfreethatdust @onebatch--twobatch @rebeccawinters @gunslxtz @akakaze @lownna

[arcielee]

the salver & the sword

Artwork by @azperja 💜

paring: Suguru Geto x reader summary: Prince Satoru Gojo sends his trusted general, and friend, across the kingdom to retrieve the girl who saved him when he was a boy. You loathe the idea of having your life uprooted on the whim of some faraway prince, and General Suguru Geto is determined to see through his prince's command, by whatever means. word count: 4.7k warnings: AFAB reader, more pining and angst, kissing, vaginal fingering, p in v unprotected because this is a medieval au author's note: I am reading through the manga and enjoying knitting other characters into my story. Only 3 chapters to go!

Chapter VI - If I Am With You

With Mimiko gone, there was only the option to walk the day away, until you finally spotted the gold light pouring through the streets of Shiba, the early evening already thrumming with the combination of music and laughter. Suguru pushed through the noise, the saddle bags thrown over his shoulder and Nanako glinting from his backside. You followed after, holding onto your satchel, your stomach groaning at the savory smells of cooked goods and ale that was crisp in the autumn air. 

The town was brimming from some celebration, and every room was booked for the night. Your steps grew heavy with the dull ache for a proper bath and a bed where you could sleep for a hundred years, when the name Kento Nanami mentioned entered your weary mind. 

“Who is Yuki?” 

There was the flicker of something that was tucked beneath his mastered stoicism, though the same rose tones flushed over–just as it did when her name was first spoken. It pulsed a curiosity anew that tugged at your heart, begging to ask him, but you remained silent. You noticed the shift in his demeanor when you came to the town’s border, a hesitation from Suguru and his eyes flitting over before carving inconvenient pathways through the crowds. 

It was also the first time he had not directly addressed one of your questions. Instead, he paused and watched you for a moment, your exhaustion evident. Suguru sighed softly and reached for your hand. 

The gesture swept away your mind, lost with how your palm fit within his, and you allowed the warmth of his touch to guide your steps. Together, you weaved through the festivities, pushing through under you came to a villa that was decorated with men and women, dressed in their finery, leering over the veranda bannister to tease the possible patrons drunkenly waltzing by. 

You could feel the weight of their collective gaze turning to you and Suguru, a tittering excitement that could not be missed–the general has returned!

Your eyebrow arched at Suguru, but he would not look back at you. 

He was watching the woman who walked out to greet the commotion, aglow under the manmade lights and wearing a rich, silk gown tailored to her athletic figure. Her manicured hands held an unlit kiseru, toying with it. 

“Suguru Geto,” she said with a curl to her rosy lips, “you have been sorely missed.” 

Yuki Tsukumo was the madame and the matriarch of Shiba. Her crown was her golden hair that spilled down her backside, cut to frame her heart shaped face. She seemed to lord over from the top steps, her eyes dancing over you both. “Have you come to celebrate?”

Suguru sighed again. “I admit, I was not even aware there was a reason to.” He did not balk under her gaze and his smirk returned. “The days have been lost to me.” 

Another woman in red moved forward, lighting a match as Yuki pinched her fingers around the mouthpiece, her lips pulling a cloud of smoke. “Autumn has begun, or whatever excuse they wish to make so they can drink out in my streets.” 

His eyes did not stray. “You will have to excuse us then, as we have been preoccupied by the command of my prince.” 

“I was wondering if that was dealt with.” As she looked you over, you were determined to hold her gaze. “Are you the one Gojo has chosen? You have my sympathies.” 

It seemed almost patronizing and her words burned through you, simmering to the tips of your ears. She stepped down, closer, unbothered by your silence, and looked back to Suguru. “Why are you here?” “We need a place to stay tonight, Yuki,” he admitted. 

“Oh Geto, as you can see, we are very busy,” she giggled, more smoke spilling, “but I am certain any one of my bawds would happily welcome you back into their bed.” 

His jaw ticked, but his smirk remained. “We are only needing a place to rest for the night. Gojo is expecting us.” 

Her eyebrow arched. “Very well,” and she clucked her tongue, a shift to command, looking over her shoulder with the wave of her hand to summon the woman in red, as well as a man you had not noticed before. She then began to list off instructions that sparked lift into her staff surrounding her. 

The man was first to action, tall and fit, with a searing desperation to remain unseen amongst the whores surrounding him, but rapt to Yuki, his dark eyes only holding for her. “Choso,” –he brightened with his name– “be a dear and find the general a change of clothes.” 

“I also want a bath prepared for each of my guests,” her rose eyes watched the flutter of girls dividing to tend to the task, before settling back onto the remaining woman; her attention drawled over Suguru, glossy. “I want you to escort her to the bathhouse and make sure the room has been readied by the time they have finished–forgive me, Geto, but I only have one room to spare.” Yuki smirked before she sharpened onto the woman’s scowl. “Don’t pout. It is unbecoming.”  

Her dismissal set you in motion, pulling you inside the brothel and splitting from Suguru, his hand reluctant to let you go as Choso let him away. Your legs were numb to follow up the stairs, your mind whirling from the tobacco and the incense burning, from the words still echoing in your head–

You have been sorely missed.

You clutched onto your satchel, walking up the staircase that curved around. The woman you followed was busty with a voluptuous spill from her dress. Her hooded eyes cast over the railing, admiring Suguru and Choso as they walked away, before her gaze settled onto you, her grin cutting through on her painted lips.

“The general is just as handsome as I remember him,” she began, her tone dripping with implication. “Do you not agree?” 

Of course you did–it was written plain across your face for anyone to see. Your gait shifted to match her slowed-down pace, an unease prickling your skin as her eyes continued to flit over you. “He has filled out some from what I remember. More definition,” she continued with her coy sneer. “I wonder, is he still just as insatiable?”  

“I–” you swallowed and it clawed down your throat. “He and I… we are not together in that way.” 

You were aware of the differences between his life and your own, but it was now something that was palpable, perfumed, in front of you and you were choking on it. She had you pinned as a simpleton from the north, dressed in rags and swept away with the fantasy of General Suguru Geto because of how your hands interlaced with his. 

Stupid, you blinked, desperate to keep your tears from falling. 

“Oh, my mistake,” she continued her feign sincerity that raked through you “I had only assumed, but perhaps I should try and persuade him to my bed, allowing you the room to yourself?” 

The favor offered left you raw, flustered, unable to respond, but thankfully a door opened to see the girls from before filling a porcelain tub. A rich aroma wafted through the air of rose and lavender and eucalyptus, grounding you. 

“You may do whatever you wish.” Your words were tight, and you pushed past her, stepping through the door. 

They moved to leave you alone; you tore away your tattered clothes to disappear into the milk bath, slipping beneath the petals floating above for a scream that bubbled to the surface.  

Simpleton or not, you held no aversion to sex but understood that whatever traffic came through your small village could not compare to the promiscuity that seemed well known of General Suguru Geto. That thought did not bother you–in truth, you loathed how it enticed you further–but what gnawed through your bones to drag your heavy heart into the pit of your stomach was the realization of the abyss that existed between your worlds. 

That you could never satisfy. 

Not that it even mattered.

In less than two days, you would turn down the proposal of Prince Gojo and return to the north, or wherever your silver would allow you to reinstate and build your life again. And Suguru would remain, his devotion a detriment. 

And that was what rattled through you, splintering into your chest: that Suguru would no longer be in your life, and what was worse was you could not remember how it was before him. 

Stupid! You groaned, pressing your palms to cover your eyes, the fruitless wish that you would have just let Gojo drown. 

A sharp knock on the door pulled you from your misery. “Come in?” you asked, slipping to hide yourself beneath the water’s white surface.  

Yuki entered with a bundle of plum silk. “I have found something clean for you to wear,” she announced, moving to hang it behind the dressing screen. 

Before you could stop it, your mind thought of how the color would complement his eyes, and you wished you could drain away with the bathwater. “Thank you.” 

She did not leave, but moved towards the dresser, a clink of glass as she pinched some of the hair thin tobacco to pack into her pipe before lighting it. Smoke trailing with her steps as she moved to open the wooden shutters, allowing the celebration to faintly pour in, exhaling the blue hue of smoke back into the night. 

“How long have you known the general?”

Yuki smirked as if she had been expecting the question. “A very long time, back to when Gojo would slip away from his mother and drag Geto along.” She took another drag, seating herself on the window ledge and looked over at you. “I found I could empathize with the prince. And besides, the pair of them left quite the impression.” 

Of course they did. You wilted at her words, but chose to ask her something else. “What do you mean that you could empathize with the prince?” 

She tilted her head to appraise you, pleased with your question and happy to share. She was an esteemed lady of the court and one of the queen’s favorites. A favorable match had been made, but Yuki found that she loathed the man on sight. Perhaps it was because her father overindulged her shrewd mind, but she could not stomach being wasted on a man who had to interest in anything she had to say; he only wished for a gilded decoration. 

So she left. 

“Shiba was nothing more than a little village,” she smiled with the memory. “I had a villa built to serve as a reprieve. I pulled in traders passing through for Hoshi. Then, one day, the prince showed up and relished in my whores.” She glowed with her business savvy. “And here we are.” 

Relished. “Did they come often?” 

“They returned frequent enough.” She took another drag, smoke pouring from her painted lips. “They were insatiable, really.” 

Insatiable. Another word that gutted you. “Did…” you licked your lips, pulling the courage to ask, “did they have their favorites?” 

Your mind returned to the woman in red while Yuki thought for a moment. “Gojo did, but no one seemed to hold Geto’s attention, just whatever happened to pass by. But I will say that whenever the pair would show, everyone was desperate to catch the general’s eye.” 

You appreciated her blunt honesty. It needed to be said, the reaffirmation that no one could solely satiate the general… that you were nothing more than passing memory that glimmered in his amethyst eyes. 

You changed the subject. “Thank you again for your hospitality, though I assume that he will probably find somewhere else to sleep tonight.” You were not bitter, but wounded. 

“Perhaps.” Her rose eyes glittered. “But that does not mean you cannot have your own fun tonight.” 

The warm bath blotched your skin, crimson exploding across your features. “I do not want–” 

“The festival,” Yuki interrupted you, her laughter filling the room. “There will be vendors and dancing and fireworks. You should come with me and see all that Shiba has to offer.” 

+ + + +

By the time you finished bathing, Yuki called for more girls to come and help you get dressed. Silk was wrapped around to fit your form, flowing with your steps. Your hair was braided back to the nape, allowing the rest to fall and dry in the cool air. Scented oils were touched to the curve of your neck and wrists, a rose tint to your lips. 

You walked downstairs to see Yuki awaiting, the man named Choso shadowing her. Her mirthful eyes washed over you and stopped at your feet. “The boots will make it easier for me to navigate through the crowds,” you argued before she spoke a word. 

Her eyes glittered. “You are prettier than any of my girls,” she announced, reaching for your hand and pulling you to follow. 

Shiba was magical at night. Vendors were lined with their sweets and treats and different liquors on display while dancers floated through, their streamers trailing behind their graceful steps in synchrony to the music lilting above. The silver of the moon was halted by the shining amber arc created from the lamps and torches lit. People paused with a child-like wonder and rosy cheeks, watching the fireworks bursting above between the song interludes. 

Choso was quiet, a shadow that followed after Yuki. She pulled to lead, pausing at each booth to smile at the compliments poured over her and accept whatever gift presented. You indulged with a taste of everything, anything she placed in your hands with a plum wine to wash it down. 

Benches were placed to sit and spectate. You seated yourself next to Yuki, untying the cloth to share the yaki-garu, peeling the chestnuts to taste. Choso remained standing, ever watchful, ever devoted, though his shyness melted once Yuki finally settled her eyes onto him. As another dance recital began, she looked at you before she decided to pull him away for a stolen moment. 

You remained seated, smiling, savoring the memory of the night, allowing it to embed into your bones. It would be something you pulled when you were old and gray, a recollection retrieved with a sweet sigh and smile. 

It was your name that pulled you back, cutting through, sharp and distinct. Your head snapped to see Suguru, his height above the villagers as he pushed towards you. His face was twisted, but not with the anger to match his tone, but a fear, a desperation you had never seen before. 

“I have been searching everywhere for you.” His voice was rasped and you stood up, the chestnuts falling to the ground as he reached for you. “You cannot just take off like that. What if something would have happened–” 

“But nothing happened,” you found yourself snapping, wrenching from his hold. Your agitation twisted on your face, spilling hot from your tongue. “I just assumed that you wished for time to socialize, as you seem so very popular in Shiba.” 

He steeled his jaw, but did not touch you again. “I would not think you would damn me for my past actions.” 

Always a statement, and never a question, but either way, he seemed wounded. It was not what you wanted, but you could not stop. “I did not want to keep you from whatever your… insatiable appetite desired.” 

He pushed closer, spilling into your space, his arms reserved at his sides and his purple eyes sparked with the light around. “You are stubborn to a fault, and every thought that enters your head will spill off your tongue. You have isolated yourself in a way that I wonder if you are refusing Satoru solely because you cannot allow anyone to become close to you.” 

It rattled your bones with a fury that seared to the surface. “I was trying to be considerate of what you wanted.” Your tone was biting, spurred by the busty woman from earlier–I should try and persuade him to my bed. “Was it not what you wanted?” 

Amethyst pierced through you, holding you still. “I asked you this before, but,” his voice was low, pulling you in, gooseflesh rippling up your backside. “What do you want?” 

You sputtered. “I asked you first!”

“No,” he corrected, his insufferable smirk curling back onto his lips. “You did not ask me anything, but only made assumptions.” 

“You always brim with this arrogance that you have bordered around you, walling off everyone.” You could not answer him, not with the desperation burning through you, torn between taking a step away or a step closer towards him. Suguru just watched you. “I ask you questions because I only wished to know you, but still you hold things to your chest. And your sense of duty is your excuse to keep anyone from coming close to you.” 

He dared to step closer, and you felt his heat pooling off of him. Any anger hinted from before was gone, his eyes scraping across the surface to pull apart your words. He was the moon and you were the tide, helpless with your highs and lows to be determined with whatever he would say. 

“I will ask you one more time,” –his voice was for you to hear alone, whisking the noise around you away– “what do you want?” 

The time you shared with Suguru came through flashes, memories also embedded, pouring a molten courage over to command you. It sparked with the words from Runa–he would never try anything. 

You stepped closer, your fingers trembling to hold onto his forearms, anchoring yourself to push onto your tiptoes, to touch your lips to his own. His mouth was soft and warm and it shuddered through you, your mind screaming for him to pull you in and never let you go. 

He held still and the moment stretched into an eternity, unreciprocated, shattering when your feet touched the ground again. Suguru was stunned, still watching you. 

And you ran.

Your embarrassment burned bright, igniting into your soles, your boots allowing your steps to grab onto the earth and propel yourself back towards the villa. Your mind continued to scream–you kissed him, you kissed Suguru, and it was everything you could admit you wanted, but your dilemma festered alongside a sense of indigeneity: it was something only you clearly wanted. 

You left Suguru behind, rooted by that damnable devotion. 

That thought shattered through you, shards of the fantasy that had been building now dug into you, encouraging you to flee. You ran until you saw the brothel, inside to closed doors to entertain paying patrons while the rest was emptied to enjoy the celebration. 

Your lungs burned as you continued up the stairs, your hand following the railing that wrapped upwards. Your clumsy steps returned you to the room that was prepared and you closed the door, your backside barring against as you sunk to the floor, struggling to catch your breath. 

I have to leave, your mind tacked together your next actions, adrenaline flaring a white nonsense in your mind, I will find Gojo and the queen and I will release him from this damn errands, and then I will leave and never, ever return–

There was a knock on the door that vibrated through you, pinning you to the oak floor. It did not falter and you groaned to stand, wiping your face with your sleeve, preparing to greet Yuki, or perhaps Choso, wondering where the hell you had run off to. 

But instead, you opened to see Suguru. 

His chest was heaving, his arms spread open and posted on both sides of the door frame to hold himself up. His hair was disheveled, windswept, and red stained his pale skin in blotches. He looked at you, his eyes bright, his smirk spreading across his sharp jaw. “You are,” he said between breaths, “faster than you look.” 

Your eyes widened. “Suguru…” 

He pushed through, reaching to pull you in with the tide, and you allowed yourself to be swept away, melting against his chest. He tilted his chin to reclaim your mouth with vigor, the heat from his palms burning through your silk as one hand followed your lower back to pull you closer, his other following up the curve of your spine and holding onto the nape of your neck, devouring you. 

Your heart sang, screaming as he pulled the air from your lungs. You wrapped your arms around his neck, desperate to be even closer, and he responded, his arms curling around your waist and lifting you enough for wide steps to walk you backwards until you felt the edge of the bed pressing into the back of your calves. 

Only then did Suguru break away from you, his mouth moving along your jawline back to the soft divot below your ear, his exhale tickling and his teeth nipping at your pulse. Your skin rose in response from a warmth that poured into your core, calling for him. 

“Suguru,” you breathed, taking in his sweat that mixed sinfully with the soap you gifted him, that heady scent that seized through you. 

“I’m here,” he murmured against your skin, pushing until you melted back into the mattress. He moved on top of you, his knee nudging your thighs apart to slot himself between. “I will not let you run away again.”

You blinked. He was teasing you, even now–! 

You opened your mouth to respond but he captured your lips again, his tongue curling to taste you, the sweetness from the chestnuts and wine. He found a rhythm that made you moan, and he pressed against you with a delicious weight that made your body burn. 

He smiled through the kiss as your fingers combed through his hair, pouring your passion into him. His fingers moved to peel away the top layer of silk until it puddled beneath you, pausing to admire how your curves pressed against the slip, how your nipples pebbled beneath. His tongue wet his lips. “Where do you want me to kiss you?” 

“Anywhere,” you reached for his collar, helping him pull his tunic over his head, the obsidian spill of his hair falling on his bare shoulders. “Everywhere,” you whispered with a kiss to his lips. 

Black swallowed the color of his eyes, his head dipping to place open-mouth kisses to your skin that was showing, pulling a heat that simmered to the surface. 

You writhed, you burned, you begged, “Suguru,” but he returned to swallow your sounds with another kiss that slow, searching, fluttering through your veins; your head was spinning. 

His fingers pulled at your hem to help you remove the silk slip. You were bare beneath him and his mouth moved over to worship your curves, a soft touch of his lips and tongue to taste. 

You gasped at the sensation and he pushed closer, coming up to find your lips while his fingers followed back to the divot between your thighs and slipping between your silken folds. Pleasure bloomed from his touch, his fingers searching until the softest sounds began to spill from your lips. 

He hummed into your mouth, his lips curling with his kiss. His touch was bold, sparking through you with his heedful circular motion against your bundle of nerves. 

It thrilled you. “Please, Suguru,” you gasped. 

“Not yet,” he murmured, his velvet voice tickling your skin. He kissed you again, his lips trailing beneath your jaw as his fingers continued to pull a pleasure that threatened to spill. You whined and Suguru shifted his weight, his hand moving with the craftful curl of his finger that pressed deep, sparking something that shimmered bright before your eyes. 

Your moan spilled loud and lewd from your kiss-swollen lips, your eyes glassy as he added another finger to the slick, sinful tandem, pumping in-and-out of you. It trilled the length of your spine, fluttering, pulling you towards a precipice that shuddered throughout. 

It was his kiss that followed that served as the catalyst, tipping you over to fall into the white-hot pleasure that wrenched the air from your lungs. He did not stop, but whispered sweet nothings into your ear, his fingers coaxing you through your peak while your heart stuttered against your chest, tears pearling in the corners of your eyes. 

Suguru pressed another kiss to your cheek, grounding you again, and you looked over to watch him retrieve his hand, his tongue cleaning his fingers and his smirk returning to his mouth. It was a salacious pulse that spilled onto the sheets, and you grabbed for him, pulling him close for your tangy taste that now stained his lips. 

Your fingers trembled to follow the smooth plains of his chest, tracing the scars that carved silver against his skin. Your touch stumbled down towards his heavy press against his slacks, and you paused, blushing at his size. 

He caught your elbow, he pulled you close. “We go with your pace,” he promised, kissing your lips, your cheek. “I am in no hurry.” 

You pushed him to lay back, helping to loosen the laces, and his thumbs hooked in the waistband to pull them lower. It was your turn to admire his chiseled chest and abdomen, the lines that cut into his hips. 

Suguru helped move you to straddle him, your plush thighs caging him to the bed and his length flushed, pressing upwards against his stomach. He pushed up to wrap his arm around your waist, the other pressed back to balance on the bed. He buried his face into your chest with soft kisses that tickled. 

You squirmed, your arousal spilling, and moved to lift your hips. He moved his other arm around to help line himself with your entrance, and you were slow, shaking to ease yourself onto him; Suguru molded into you, pressing against your seams.

He held onto you, his face pressing into your neck with a loan groan that reverberated throughout. You grasped at his shoulders, panting, adjusting to his girth. Suguru tilted his head up to look at you, the same careful consideration as always, and you kissed him.

It rekindled your pleasure, your boldness that burned for him, and you slowly rocked your hips against him. He groaned again, falling back onto the bed, his large hands dimpling to hold onto your hips. His neck bobbed as he watched you, a rose dusting on his cheeks that spilled onto his neck and chest; you relished his reaction when your thighs squeezed, your pace quickening.

His hands encouraged your movement, and his hips lifted to meet with your motion. You felt it building again, curling at the base of your spine, a flutter of your walls around him. His palm moved to the inside of your thigh, until his thumb could press into you with the same circular motion as before that allowed the stars to burst bright before your eyes. 

You nearly cried from the euphoria that twisted through you, pulsing and clenching tight to pull Suguru after, his brow furrowed with a guttural groan. Your head was empty and he pushed up to catch you, holding you until your heart settled, until your breathing was an exchange with his inhale to your exhale. 

“Move for me.” He pressed a kiss to your hairline, pulling away. You rolled onto your side to watch him pour water from the basin and wrung out a cloth, returning to clean the sticky spill between your thighs. 

You giggled with his concentration, his careful touch. He blew softly against your skin and it rose in response. “That tickles!” 

He was still flushed, his smile boyish. “I know.” 

He wiped himself off before he returned to the bed. Suguru then pulled you against his chest, the bare entanglement of limbs knitting into one another and holding you close like before, until your heartbeats found a familiar rhythm with one another, until your breathing was an intimate exchange. 

taglist: taglist: @sugurubabe @elliesndg @paprikaquinn @yeehawbrothers @witchbybirth @thenameswinter99

arcie's navi | jjk masterlist the salver & the sword masterlist

[15prime8]

Since everyone is questioning it, I’m giving a small summary of what the conundrum Au is about, I forgot to mention that I’m new to this whole thing, I have big plans to work on this but I’m individual person. I’m still working on the concept, I’m also still working on the big changes. so please, be patient :)

Anyways, here’s the small summary!

——————————————————————

ConundrumAu

Summary - the great zone authority is the matriarchal body of the troll leaders. The memberships are John Dory, Bruce, clay, Floyd and little branch.

Trollstopia is a planet that is lights years away. Along side there are other planets, Bergen town and mount rageous being the most common.

The rulers, They have the absolute ruling power over trollstopia, they are colonizers who go other planets to take over.

The great zone authority has complete control over every troll, each leader has a role, John Dory is the leader, clay and Bruce respectfully oversaw the military, war, and the culture. Floyd and branch both are charge of celebrations and throwing parties after a colonization.

In over to expand troll kind, they colonize to take away other planets resources when trolls eggs are ready. Of course, the rulers don’t force other trolls to breed, they only breed trolls that are specifically designed for war.

Techno trolls and country trolls are under the guidance of Floyd.

Classical trolls are under the guidance of clay.

Funk trolls belong to Bruce.

Rock trolls belong to John Dory.

And finally, the pop trolls are under the guidance of little branch.

They wear uniforms (of their choice) under what brozone ruler belong.

They’re very loyal, trolls are so passionate and enthusiastic of the brozone brothers. In return, the brothers are friendly and passionate of their subjects too.

Of course there’s execution and punishment. If a troll ever disobeys the rules or the authority, executioners will take away that troll’s gem and crush it slowly and painful. There’s rarely any rulebreakers. At least not until the war.

But not only the other trolls have to be perfect, but also the brozone brothers. Their oldest brother, John Dory, expect his younger brothers to be perfect, they can be fierce but they have to do it elegant, powerful and magnificent.

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[wangxianficfinder]

F/F WangXian

~*~

splash;; by defractum (nyargles) (E, 11k, wangxian, modern w/ cultivation, gender changes, F/F, merpeople, rule 63, smut)

Like the sea loves the shore by Say (E, 15k, wangxian, LQY & WWX, implied/referenced WWX/WC, F/F, rule 63, dark LWJ, protective LWJ, sirens, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst w/ happy ending, eventual smut, human WWX, siren LWJ, age difference, non-human genitalia, minor character death)

make me whole, make me new by occultings (microcomets) (E, 24k, WangXian, Rule 63, Cisswap, Femslash, Modern AU, College/University, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Misunderstandings, (briefly), Pining, Jealousy, Compulsory Heterosexuality, Light Humiliation, Bathing/Washing, Bath Sex, as is the wangxian way, Hurt/Comfort, kind of, Lesbian Sex, Getting Together, First Time)

The Flower Blooms in Day and Night by TheRedFig (T, 46k, WIP, WangXian, Rule 63, Lesbian AU, Period-Typical Sexism, Fem!WWX, Fem!LWJ, Pining, Sexuality Crisis, Internalized Misogyny, Sexual Harassment, Happy Ending, Heteronormativity, Spoilers for Novel, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, NOT for the main pair, Genderswap, TW in the beginning of each chapter, Unreliable Narrator)

Beautiful mess, a colourful wreck by covalentbonds (Not Rated, 11k, WangXian, Modern AU, Fluff and Humor, Mild Smut, Rule 63, 3zun | Venerated Triad Feels, Shameless LWJ, Female LWJ, Female WWX, Now featuring for some reason the insanely underrated LWJ-JZX-JC bitchiness potentia,l Childhood Friends, First Meetings)

Pull out game weak by 74243 (E, 22k, WangXian, Modern AU, Dom/sub, Sexting, Nudes, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Strap-Ons, Mistaken Identity, JC character assassination, Even when its not omegaverse lwj is still an alpha dyke, Subdrop)

the hard way by dustyloves (E, 9k, WangXian, A/B/O Dynamics, Modern AU, College/University, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Gender Changes, Cisswap, PWP, Dubious Consent, WWX Has a Breeding Kink, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Female NHS)

Ghost in the Machine by DizziDreams (M, 65k, wangxian, rule 63, F/F, transistor au, case fic, horror elements, character death, scifi au)  

i glow pink, blossoming over you by Anonymous (E, 11k, wangxian, rule 63, F/F, modern w/ magic, cherry magic au, dom/sub undertones, hand feeding, acespec WWX, demisexual LWJ, smut)

The life and times of a bad idea bear series by houselesbian (T, 21k, wangxian, F/F, modern, highschool setting, relationship talk, humor, angst, rabbits)

Happy for Now by ScarlettStorm (E, 80k, wangxian, F/F, modern, there was only one bed, romance author au, adhd WWX, service top LWJ, pining, smut, comedy, angst, Shenanigans ™)

The Yiling Matriarch by Lusern (Not rated, 69k, wangxian, F/F, coming out story, character study, WIP)

your grave, a garden; a barrow, your bed by twinagonies (E, 31k, wangxian, F/F, YLLZ WWX, BDSM, power play, bondage, impact play, smut, switching, porn with plot, golden core reveal, mental health issues, wen remnants live)

Immortals at Magpie Bridge by Starlitverses (Not rated, 28k, wangxian, F/F, women being awesome, canon divergence, not everyone dies au, forbidden love, WIP)

Creamy Peaches by An0therWerid0 (E, 26k, wangxian, F/F, modern, overstimulation, PWP, age difference, camgirl WWX, WIP)

everything’s going to be discovered by everythingispoetry (M, 98k, wangxian, F/F, modern w/ magic, reunions, soft wangxian, family feels, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, disability)

And they were roommates… by harriet_vane (M, 41k, wangxian, F/F, modern, college/university au)

Paler Than Grass by Lusern (T, 36k, wangxian, F/F, modern, schoolteacher au, fluff, cottagecore lesbians)

Out of your system by mimilamp (E, 20k, WangXian, Modern AU, Rule 63, Sexual Content, Strap-Ons, jealous wwx, lwj FUCKS, mention of Lan Zhan/others, Y E A R N I N G, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note)

A Touch To Calm This Aching Heart by Multifacetedinterests (E, 12k, WangXian, Genderswap, Dragon LWJ, Huli Jing WWX, War Prize WWX, Possessive LWJ, Bad Parent YZY, Abusive YZY, Face Slapping, Emotional Manipulation, Fear of Being Fucked to Death, Dead JFM, Touch-Starved, hidden identity, Enemies to Lovers, Miscommunication, Compulsory Heterosexuality, Hurt/Comfort, Dom/sub Undertones, Non-Consensual Collar Usage, Vaginal Fingering, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Exhibitionism, Dubcon adjacent)

Flowers in the Palace series by stiltonbasket (T, 21k, Female WangXian, NieLan, Female LXC, Emperor NMJ, Empress LXC, Happy Ending, Misunderstandings, Getting together, Harem, Concubine WWX, Consort LWJ)

if your body’s into me by plonk (Not Rated, 13k, Modern with Magic, Gender Changes)

nobody compares by tongzhi (E, 16k, WangXian, Modern AU, Gender Changes, Rule 63, PWP, Porn with Feelings, Lesbian Sex, comp het lwj, very light dom/sub undertones, Friends to Lovers, Cisswap, Getting Together, sexuality realization, (but no external homophobia), Pining while fucking)

Finding the love of my life on douyin! by countingcr0ws (E, 12k, WangXian, Modern AU, Rule 63, LWJ Has Large Breasts, Social Media, Romance, Fluff, Cunnilingus, Nipple Licking, Female WWX, Female LWJ, Online Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Smut, TikTok, Footnotes, BAMF WWX)

pov: you give your crush a makeover by grapesoda (T, 7k, WangXian, F/F, Modern AU, Social Media, tiktok au, Female LWJ, Female WWX, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Getting Together, Humor, Makeovers, alt tiktok wwx, makeup artist lwj, lapslock)

Make My Wish Come True by justpeace (T, 9k, wangxian, modern cultivation, gender changes, fem wangxian, Christmas, fake/pretend relationship, sharing a bed, case fic, getting together, angst, butch LWJ)

i could bite my tongue by astrolesbian (M, 3k, wangxian, gender changes, fem wangxian, first time, anxiety, communication, aftercare)

a polishing of mirrors by occultings (microcomets) (M, 7k, wangxian, gender changes, fem wangxian, canon compliant, cloud recesses study era, sex pollen, aphrosidiacs, getting together, swimming, kissing)

Come into the water by feyburner (E, 4k, wangxian, modern, gender changes, fem wangxian, PWP, established relationship, first time)

Swing Me by airinshaw (E, 3k, wangxian, modern, gender changes, fem wangxian, public sex)

Kissing is Gross but Wei Ying is Perfectly Kissable by stiricide (E, 7k, wangxian, WWX/others, modern, gender changes, fem wangxian, past relationships, lingerie, mildly dubious consent, exhibitionism, voyeurism, dom/sub undertones, compulsory heterosexuality, explicit consent, getting together, friends to lovers, multiple orgasms, WWX has ADHD)

Glass walls by eatmyass (E, 9k, wangxian, modern, gender changes, fem wangxian, PWP, friends to lovers, exhibitionism, voyeurism, under-negotiated kink, dirty talk, slut shaming, humiliation)

Keep Me by wingsofbadass (E, 58k, wangxian, modern, gender changes, fem wangxian, friends to lovers, compulsory heterosexuality, explicit sexual content, sexuality discovery, straight girl WWX, minor WWX/WX, LWJ fucks)

Body Language by Scourge Daughter (scourgedaughter) (E, 33k, wangxian, modern, office au, ABO, gender changes, fem wangxian, office romance, hacking, cybersecurity, alpha/alpha wangxian, arranged marriage, wangxian endgame, happy ending, YZY A+ parenting, canonical character death, sexual harrasment, drunk LWJ, switch wangxian)

Let’s Get Real, Baby by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 22k, wangxian, modern, gender changes, disaster lesbians, best bud MM, karaoke, drinking, smut)

breathe me in by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 5k, wangxian, PWP, gender changes, fem wangxian)

Homecoming by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 2k, wangxian, PWP, gender changes, fem wangxian)

sweet talker by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 19k, wangxian, modern, gender changes, fem wangxian, butch dyke LWJ, “straight” girl WWX, sexuality exploration, barely there wangxian-typical dub con)

all that by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 19k, wangxian, modern, gender changes, fem wangxian, butch dyke LWJ, smut, coming out)

sideways by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 20k, wangxian, modern, gender changes, fem wangxian, butch dyke LWJ, casual and not-so-casual sex, smut, WWX getting wrecked, “straight” girl WWX)

a history of the body by northofallmusic (tofsla) (E, 13k, wangxian, modern, gender changes, fem wangxian, massage, getting together, sex toys, past serious injuries, chronic pain, domesticity, friends to lovers)

take me in by thelastdboy (E, 2k, Female WangXian, POV LWJ, PWP, Rule 63, WWX Uses Bìchén Inappropriately, Inappropriate Use of Bìchén, Object Insertion, Vaginal Sex, Masturbation, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Light Masochism, Nipple Play, Temperature Play, Light Sadism, Female Ejaculation, Multiple Orgasms, Established Relationship, Post-Canon, Body Worship, Vaginal Fisting, Cunnilingus, Face-Sitting, Aftercare, Fluff and Smut)

End Racism in the OTW by Deastar (M, 2k, wangxian, F/F, modern, ABO, non-traditional ABO dynamics, alpha LWJ, omega WWX, fluff, rule 63)

Line of sight by deliciousblizzardshark (T, 8k, wangxian, F/F, pre-relationship, always different sex au, plucky heroines, misogyny, enemies to friends, WWX has ADHD)

you can always find me here by ScarlettStorm (E, 15k, wangxian, F/F, post-canon, getting together, genderswap, cisswap, trans woman LWJ, cis woman WWX, first time, vaginal fingering, oral sex)

A Heart in Ribbons by Alliandra (E, 8k, wangxian, F/F, gender or sex swap, canon divergence, war lord LWJ, darkish LWJ, powercouple wangxian, dub con, finger fucking, cunnilingus)

smoke gets in your eyes by Hi_Hello_smile (T, <1k, wangxian, F/F, modern, chef WWX, WIP)

Hello, My Fire by GhostySword (E, 25k, wangxian, F/F, rule 63, modern cultivation, BAMF wangxian, violence against vacuums, pining, getting together, there was only one bed, switching, light bondage, sex toys, tattoo parlor au, humor, adventure)

Pocket Too Deep for Play by bigamma (E, 57k, WangXian, F/F, Modern AU, College/University, Vibrators, Easter Eggs, Sex Toys, Autistic LWJ, Female WWX, Female LWJ, WWX Has ADHD, Lacrosse, Christian Themes, Sports Medicine, YZY’s A+ Parenting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Christian Holidays, Easter Egg Hunt, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Bible Quotes (Abrahamic Religions), Cunnilingus)

Perfect shot by sunandseas (E, 10k, Female WangXian, Modern AU, Fashion & Models, Mutual Pining, Hand & Finger Kink, Mildly Dubious Consent, LWJ has big tits, Dom/sub Undertones, lwj insults wwx and they fuck about it, pussy-drunk wwx, Come Eating, PWP, Strap-Ons, Spanking)

an inch away from more (than just friends) by occultings (microcomets) (E, 15k, Female WangXian, Modern AU, Rule 63, Femslash, Lesbian Sex, Genderbending, Pining while fucking, sexuality exploration, Compulsory Heterosexuality, Friends to Lovers, Masturbation, Kissing, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Getting Together, Swim Team, Diving, Pool Sex, Outdoor Sex, Jealousy)

Are you gonna be my girl by 74243 (E, 14k, Female WangXian, Modern AU, Established Relationship, Forced Feminization, Sadism, Dom/sub, Slut Shaming, Internalized Misogyny.... but like.... Make It Sexy, Humiliation, Semi-Public Sex, Exhibitionism, Painplay, Cock Warming, Genderplay, Vague sugardaddy LWJ vibes)

lately, blooming by chibilwj (thelogicoftaste) (M, 34k, Female WangXian, Modern AU, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Slice of Life, Light Angst)

~*~

[dystopianam]

Modern Veronaville Roleplay: THE PLOT

I really don't know how to start this post, but @gingersimmerr and I besides the historical (1300+ circa) R&J based roleplay (TS2 storyline version with VV sims), also have a modern AU roleplay set in 2023 and...I feel like talking about it because yes.

I start by saying that it is very stereotyped and clichéd, it's a clear modern version of R&J, very similar to the storyline of the game but with a few more twists and with a little Life Is Strange vibes. (P.S: geologically speaking, many elements are invented, we are both Italian so we don't have enough accurate information about America)

AND, is full of headcanons, so not every character is 100% accurate to its original version. With that said, let's get started.

THE PLOT

Somewhere in America, there is a big town called Veronaville. The town has a style that is a mix between modern white villas and Mediterranean style villas. It's like a little Italy, but very few real Italians live there. Most people choose to live there just for the vibes.

Two young businessmen in theyr 20s have nearly control of the entire city, having bought practically everything in there. The two are so powerful that even the mayor of the city itself seems to have much less authority than the influence of them both.

They are Consort Thebe, a British man, and Patrizio Monty, an Italian man.

You just have to imagine them like the Landgraabs and the Prescott (of LIS).

Consort Thebe is from a royal family, Patrizio Monty is from a noble family instead.

Business is booming, the two are best friends and therefore celebrate every victory together... but something suddenly changes everything. An x reason causes a strong fight between the two.

The two of them split up, the city is literally divided between the Monty's and the Thebe's. For years, the two of them never meet again.

Many, many years later, the two meet by pure chance when both decide they want to buy the same business.

They are both married now. Patrizio married Isabella Pantalone, Consort married Contessa Capp, renouncing his surname (Thebe) for his wife's matriarchal family.

Now, they are elders and have "children" too (adult children!)

Patrizio have three children: Claudio, Antonio and Bianca.

Consort have four children: Goneril, Regan, Kent and Cordelia.

Both are waiting to become grandparents for the first time. Their daughters-in-law and daughters are expecting their first children.

Olivia, Claudio's wife, is pregnant with Mercutio.

Hero, Antonio's wife, is pregnant with Viola.

Cordelia is pregnant with Tybalt.

Tybalt is born. Mercutio is born, Viola, Romeo, Miranda, Juliette and Hermia are born.

This group of children plays together for many years, while their grandparents are still friends.

But a tragedy suddenly strikes the Capp family: Patrizio Monty, out of a hidden grudge, sets fire to a business building which he and Consort had purchased jointly. His excuse was that he wanted to collect a very big insurance, but unaware that the building was not empty, that day, Cordelia Capp, Consort's youngest daughter, lost her life in the flames.

The Capps are rightly in mourning. The Montys are reported to the police by the Capps and taken to court for arson and the murder of Cordelia Capp, but having no evidence, Patrizio is freed from all charges.

The two families split up. Now they despise each other to death. The children are separated.

It's been about 10 years. The children have now grown up and with them the resentment and feud between the two families.

The Capps attend a private school financed by themselves: the Stratford Academy, the Montys attend public school, but Patrizio wants a better education for his grandchildren and so, reluctantly (because the school is financed by the Capps) he is forced to enroll them to the only prestigious institute in the area.

It's a September evening. Patrizio and Isabella invited their entire family to have dinner together and celebrate their grandchildren's entry into private school. But there's a problem: everyone arrives... except Viola.

Hours pass. But it's getting terribly late, Viola doesn't even answer her cell phone. Mercutio and Romeo go to look for her, but only find her cell phone fallen in the alley that she would have taken to her grandparents' house. This means that Viola was coming but...something happened in the meantime.

Everyone at home is terrified. Patrizio doesn't want to call the police because that would draw too much attention to his family. Hero is tired of listening to her father-in-law's stupid reasons and so she calls the police.

After a couple of investigations, following some testimonies, the police are certain: Viola was kidnapped by someone.

Do you want to know the characters infos in another post...?

[deceitfuldevout]

Hidden Treasure (Part 2)

Arranged Marriage AU: Dark!Tommy Shelby x Wife!Reader

Warning(s): None.

Author's note(s): Polly finds the perfect woman for her nephew.

Today was a profitable day. You managed to sell some pastries made from scratch and made a good earning. You’re thankful for whatever money you could get out of the leftovers. There were enough to purchase some ripe berries for a tart. A happy sigh escapes your lips, it was a productive day indeed.

Life was hard, but at least you and your family had each other. You’re grateful for every moment of it. But for some reason, there was this gut feeling that told you it wouldn’t last very long. As if you'd sensed there was something that was about to happen. Something that would change your life forever.

Later that day

A bell chimes from your family's bakery door. Two men walk in, dressed from head-to-toe in tailored suits. One sporting a mustache, the other with a toothpick poking from the corner of his smirk. They part from each other to reveal a shorter woman in fancier clothing.

Your father looks up from the floor, he stops sweeping, “Good morning madame,” he nods. Her ruby lips curl into a smirk. She tilts her sunglasses down the bride of her nose and glances around, “A very good morning to you as well.” There’s a sudden pause. It’s silent for a brief moment. Your father is first to break the ice, “Is there anything I can get you with?”

“Oh no, I’ve come here solely on business, you see, I would like to purchase your bakery.” she bats her eyes. Her aura reeked of wealth, of power. Your father hums, “Sorry, no can-do ma’am, this here is all I have to my name, and I have a family to care for, I hope you can understand,”

“You don’t have to worry about that any longer, I can assure you that this deal will benefit all of us,” she grins from ear to ear. Your old man raises a brow. He leans the broom against a wall, limping his way to a seat placed at the counter, “What do you have to offer?”

It only took a few minutes to discuss scheduling an official meeting. Polly leaves the bakery now filled with glee. She’s in quite the pleasant mood. Arthur and John exchange glances with each other, questioning whether or not it had been a wise decision. But then again, they weren’t the ones who called the shots.

Soon enough, Polly arrived at Tommy’s office in a cheerful mood, slamming the office door open. Her nephew looks up from his desk then to his watch. It was almost dinner time. Which means she should’ve been with his son by now. Tommy stills his pen, “Who’s watching Charlie?”

“He’s with his uncles, as should you be, there’s an important family meeting to attend to dear nephew,” a hint of glee in her voice didn’t sit well with him, “When?” he huffs out.

Polly quips, “Now.” that was an order. Tommy is hesitant to get up but pushes through. He stores his reading glasses into a case before locking them in a cabinet. His aunt holds out an arm for him to take. He wonders what exactly his clever auntie had in store for them this time. When the two arrive at the Garrison they’re met with the rest of the Shelby family. With John and Arthur looking especially nervous for him. Ada on the other hand is absolutely giddy, not sure if she’ll be able to hold it in before Polly spills the news.

They all wait for the Shelby matriarch to begin. As Polly stands up, tall and proud to announce the important news, “A celebration is in order," she grips her nephew's shoulder, "Congratulations Tommy…you’re getting married,” she clasps her hands together, intertwining her fingers. Tommy doesn’t say a word, his eyes widen for a split second. His expression quickly turns into a scowl, “Poll…” Tommy is at a loss for what to say next. Just when his day couldn’t get worse, “No.”

“Oh, hush now, you didn’t see John complain when we had to set him up,”

“You weren’t there to tame him,” he retorts. Arthur on the other hand, agrees with his aunt, “She’s got a point...”. Tommy looks up to his older brother with a look of bewilderment as Arthur quickly ducks his gaze.

Polly made sure to have Tommy visit the family in person. His own brothers, his own men followed her orders not to leave him out of their sights. After a few days of constant harassment and threats, he had finally caves in. And so, it landed the Shelby members on the other side of town. Where they stood right in front of an old-fashioned building. This was the address of Tommy's soon-to-be wife.

Polly swiftly turns to her nephew, “Listen to me well boy: Under no circumstances will you to try to scare them off, got it?” she points a gloved finger in his face, scolding him as if he were still a child. He glares at her before giving a slight nod. Polly retrieves a bouquet of roses from the car. They were the same ones you' had been eyeing at the marketplace. She remembers how you would stop by the florist just to smell them. She hands them to her nephew, “I expect you to give this to her,” before proceeding towards the house.

Polly knocks on the front door. A woman opens it. Her eyes are soft and welcoming, a bit worn out by time. She smiles softly at the two, “Polly, it’s good to see you!” she shakes her hand, planting a kiss on each cheek. Polly embraces her in a tight hug, “It’s good seeing you as well my dear,” She firmly grasps her nephew's arm, pulling him into their conversation, “This is my nephew I've told you about, Tommy Shelby,”

“Good evening, Ma'am,” He curtly greets the other woman. Polly’s friend raises a brow, “My, what a handsome lad!” she giggles, “Please, come in, come in!” she waves her hand for them to follow. The girl’s mother had informed them, that their daughter couldn't be here today. You were left to care for the bakery all by yourself. Tommy didn’t like that, not one bit. No future wife of his should be slaving herself away. If he can’t choose his future wife, fine. But once married the only role you would be taking is a dutiful wife.

They make their way into the living room, passing by a framed photo of the family. A young husband stood behind his wife’s seat as he held his eldest daughter. Their youngest sat shyly in her mother’s lap. More and more photos of them were scattered across the wall. Each picture told a story. It had shown throughout the years that their daughters have blossomed into beautiful women.

Their latest family photo had been small wedding. Their eldest daughter had grown into a blushing bride. Her mother held her father’s shoulder, as he tried his best not to tear up. Tommy recognizes his face immediately. After all, it was his fault the man had ended up in such a condition. He felt as though he owed him a favor. He's now face-to-face with the man. Polly is the one to introduce him, “This is my nephew-”

“Thomas Shelby.” the old baker spoke up, “It’s good to see you, old friend,”

Polly’s attention is now set on her dear nephew, “You know each other?” sounding genuinely concerned that her nephew may have sabotaged the unification, before even having a chance to finalize it. But that wasn’t the case at all. In fact, this was the man who had saved Tommy’s life.

During the war, the older man had been responsible for rescuing countless young men. From either being buried alive or blown to bits. But in the end, it did cost him. He could say proudly that the loss of his leg, was a fair exchange for the countless lives of his fellow companions. Tommy had no choice but to accept the proposal, the girl’s dowry had already been paid in full. After their meeting, the two families exchanged their goodbyes, gIving a few hugs and kisses before parting. Polly turns around to give one final wave, “Welcome to the family.” before entering the vehicle.

Little did they know, you were already on your way home. Unaware of what the future had in store. Your fate was sealed, as was his.

[adrianasunderworld]

Brigerton au: Isabelle Rosa-Crewel

Isabelles father remarried into the Crewels after her mother abandoned them. She was formally adopted and recognized as Divus daughter afterwards.

The Crewels own a great deal of businesses relating to textiles and clothing. Such as selling and importing fabrics, owning a number of high end dress shops and sewing stores. Miss Lilith Crewel The matriarch of the family also owns a ladies magazine that does very well for itself and is popular amoung women in various social classes.

In preparation for Isabelles first season out into society, Lilith Crewel had arranged for her old acquaintances, the Ashengrottos, to protect her. Isabelle as the sole heir to a vast fortune also puts her in danger to gentlemen of less honorable intentions. From Fortune Hunters looking to marry her and take advantage of her money to the real possibility of being ransomed, however unlikely it may be. Regardless, Lilith had no intention of taking a risk on her granddaughters well being until an appropriate match can be found.

As such, now Isabelle is under the protection of the Ashengrotto family, with their daughter, Drew as her main protector. Ensuring no such comes to her. Isabelle does not mind Drew's company and the two become good friends.

However, it appears her grandmothers suspicions were correct. Most of the suitors that come to call do not catch her attention and clearly only telling her what she wants to hear and asking questions that mostly pertain to the lifestyle she is able to afford. If not, many are also scared away after the intimidating presence of her grandmother and Drew.

Isabelle as a romantic and lover of romance novels, is hopeful for a love match someday, but so far no man has caught her eyes. Until a mysterious stranger visiting from Briar Valley comes to town for the season.

🌹🎀🌹🎀🌹

"Miss Isabelle Rosa-Crewel was presented this season by her grandmother, Madam Lilith Crewel. Brought into high society as a child, Miss Crewel has been able to blossom like a rose over the years in more ways than one. A sentiment that shows in her reputation as one of the great beauties of The Ton. However, every rose has its thorns, as it appears Miss Crewel must prepare them for the slew of suitors that will undoubtedly be looking at her lofty fortune as the sole heir of her family. Will this rose be plucked from her garden, or will she stay firmly rooted where she is? This author cannot wait to find out." -Lady Whistledown

Drew belongs to @mangacupcake

@marrondrawsalot @writing-heiress @the-weirdos-mind

[laynore-x]

Hey, I love your replaced miracle au, what's the story? I wanna know why Mirabel left and how Pepa became the matriarch, as you'd think Julieta would be the new matriarch if something happened to Alma, are anyone else's roles or powers switched?

Oh I didn't know I got messages, sorry for the delay! 💦

First of all i appreciate a lot that you love this au! 🥺 And as for the story, it will be told with new posts regularly; Mirabel left to protect Antonio because she had a vision about casita breaking down and he was in the center of it, so in his ceremony she left to prevent Antonio from being shunned in the same way she was. (technically the roles have been swapped).

It is known that Julieta was the eldest and the one who should be in charge after Alma's death, but she ceded that position to her daughter Pepa because she saw her as more suitable to be the new authority, since unlike Julieta, who is a passive person and goes more for the emotional side, Pepa is rational, makes tough but fair decisions, and will follow the same steps as her mother regarding taking charge of the family, which means that the destiny of the Madrigals will remain on the same tragic path, and the miracle will die if they don´t fix the main problem before it's too late.

I think the fact that it is now Antonio who has to fix his relationship with his mother will make it more complicated and painful to watch because of the new terrain that will be explored too. (For example, the death of his father Felix)

And yep, all their roles/gifts will be switched, including 2 new characters :) Thank you for asking!

[scaly-freaks]

I absolutely love your inmate 13453-079 au, the feels it gave me are immaculate!💚

And i couldn’t stop thinking of the fact that you mentioned that the Targaryens may know about Amara and them having incestuous vibes and i started thinking about Alicent place in all that. Maybe she also was kidnapped or maybe she wasn’t kidnapped but can’t leave anymore and Amara strangely feel she can relate to her except she’s doesn’t know exactly what Alicent business is, only that she feel similarities between them but also Alicent is complicit in her captivity and all the fucked up things that comes with it. And then Amara gets out except Amara think she doesn’t ‘want’ to get out while Alicent is still stuck no matter how much she wishes she could leave. And all the feelings that comes with it, the trauma, the solidarity and loves but also the resentment and jealousy all that festering between them…

Anyway sorry for the rambling feel free to ignore me i just couldn’t stop thinking about these two😭

Thank you so much my love!

I absolutely adore this idea. It reminds me of this Criminal Minds episode where there was this sort of cult or something akin to it where little girls would be stolen by families with little boys as their future brides. And then those girls would grow up to become the matriarch of the family and go on to help steal more little girls for her own son(s).

In that way, Alicent whilst being a victim of trauma, would be part of the system traumatising Amara because she knows Aegon stole her, but she doesn't report it to the authorities. She knows all about the Targaryen incest but doesn't say a word, she's been Stockholmed so successfully.

Amara wanting to "return" to Aegon in a way isn't about him that much (because he is quite, quite violent in the first few months of the kidnapping and definitely doesn't hold back to tame her into captivity), but more about the family behind him. She's an only child and never had that kind of bond with any of her cousins. But out there in the backwoods, the Targs welcome her in (whilst turning a blind eye to the fact that she is essentially Aegon's property as their ways are slightly more trad-Christian shall we say, and yet not Christian because of the whole cult/supernatural thing). While Aegon is in prison, Amara doesn't actually tell the police about the other Targaryens which may or may not be the reason she and Val get stolen away again, because once a Targaryen, always a Targaryen. It doesn't matter if Aegon is still behind bars for now, Amara is one of them and she'll never be allowed to escape and live free. So basically yeah, she does get taken again soon after the last letter she sends to Aegon ><

[crew-stefan]

New Sun Diamond!

[diamondcrownacademy]

DCA Info Part 55: Jinlong’s Family and Confidants 🐲

Art colored by @au-ni-ro

For more information on Jinlong, click here!

Jinlong's Family

Guang Esi (グアン・エシ, Guan Eshi)

The patriarch of the Esi family, he is a very traditional man who will not tolerate breaking of tradition. He views the world outside of the Valley of Clouds as inferior and uncouth even if they had high standing.

Liling Esi (ライリング・エシ, Rairingu Eshi)

The matriarch of the Esi Family who was engaged to Guang by her parents. She tries to stay out of his way and tries to live comfortably, but when Jinlong was born she realized that she wouldn't want this life for her daughter. So, from behind the scenes, she helps keep Jinlong's secret within her authority. She was like Jinlong, a headstrong girl who was pushed into a box by rules and was forced to conform.

Ying Esi (イング・エシ, Ingu Eshi)

The firstborn son and the eldest sibling at 26 years old. A very strong martial artist who is very prideful of his skills. He would remind Jinlong to know her place as a daughter of the household, he thinks that going against tradition is equivalent to bringing shame to the family. While he won't outright strike at a woman, he does use a bit of force to get his point across, he injured the second eldest when he dared to raise his voice against him when he tried to stand up for Jinlong.

Ushi Esi (ウシ・エシ, Ushi Eshi)

The second-born son at age 24. He doesn't possess a slim yet muscular figure like the rest of his brothers, he is more buff and heavy with toned muscles. He works as an architect, building houses and fixing gardens. He's more friendly to Jinlong but is a bit of a coward when it comes to confronting Ying since he was injured by the eldest when he dared to go against him one time.

Gou Esi (ゴーゥ・エシ, Gō~u Eshi)

The third-born son at age 20. Although he is quite charming to the girls in his hometown, he is also a cunning lad. Jinlong doesn't trust him since he'll ask for favors in exchange for his silence. He doesn't pick sides but will take the opportunity to find entertainment even if it meant instigating drama. And Jinlong is careful not to let him catch wind of what she does in secret.

Tuzi Esi (トゥジ・エシ, To~uji Eshi)

The fourth son and fifth sibling at age 17. He is known for being quick on his feet. A bit of a troublemaker in the family, always running fast without a care in the world. He would skip out on lessons when he's bored. He is neutral with Jinlong and he thinks she's boring, he barely interacts with her. She knows not to judge but she can't help but be frustrated that he takes a lot of things for granted because he's a boy, while she has limited options and her future, is held in chains.

Hou Esi (ホウ・エシ, Hō Eshi)

The fifth son and youngest sibling at age 15. He spends his time reading books and holds discussions with his teachers about philosophy. He looks up to Jinlong when she took care of him while he was sick. He decides to support Jinlong using his privileges to make sure that she no longer has to feel sad.

[lilmissnatcat24]

Turn Left Ch 33- Shepard Gets Launched Into the Astral Plane!!! (Not Clickbait)

Benezia tells all (CW: violence, gore)

Relationship: Femshep/Garrus Vakarian

Archive Warnings in author's note

Additional tags: enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn, slow build, alternate universe- canon divergence, detective noir, sex club, anonymous sex, canon temporary character death, murder mystery, drug use, dom garrus vakarian, whump, smut, heavy angst, alien sex, dual pov, an overly sexual elcor named candy, earthborn, ruthless, fake/pretend relationship, dead dove: do not eat, identity porn, minor character death

Detective AU mixed with identity porn mixed with so much whump my fingers are bleeding

(or, start from the beginning here)

lil snippet:

“It’s going to start stinking here, that is for certain. Would the five of you follow me? Before we start to gag from the stench? I have a more private area back here, refreshments and all.” 

“I-- what?’ Nihlus was the first one to speak, thankfully as befuddled as Garrus felt. He was preparing for a battle, and Benezia was treating them as if they were patients at a dentist. Garrus wasn’t impressed, not in the slightest, reaching back for his gun. 

It seemed as though he wasn’t alone, as Benezia just rolled her eyes and tutted at them. “Come now, all. If it will truly make you feel better to have your guns pointed at me, feel free. But here is what is for certain: the five of you will not overtake me. That is not me being arrogant, that is a fact. I speak it as plainly as I walk on the ground beneath our feet. Now, honey, don’t give me that look. I know you have a big bad Spectre and a big bad battlemaster and two… semi-competent cops with you, but that does not make you more powerful than a Matriarch. It just does not. So for your final bit of life, I invite you to relax. I will explain everything, of course. It is not Saren’s will to kill all of you, especially with your combined talents. I will answer every question you have. We can do it here, or we can do it with the comfortability of cushions and refreshments. Shall we?” 

Benezia didn’t wait before turning on her heels, expecting them to follow her. Garrus looked around wildly at the others. Nihlus shook his head vehemently, Wrex growled at the very thought, Liara looked as if she were a child again being screamed at by her mother, Shepard was still barely present. Garrus was rooted to the floor. Like hell if he’d let Benezia order them around like they were some misbehaving kids. Benezia glanced over her shoulders, rolling her eyes again and throwing her hands up in the air. “Fine. We’ll stay in the room with the decaying bodies that will very, very soon begin the excrement process. Just know this was your choice, not mine.” With a flick of a wrist, she biotically pushed all of the datapads and vials off of the nearest desk with a shatter and leaned against it, making a point to show that she was stiff and not at all comfortable. Garrus felt the overwhelming urge to punch her in the face. “So? What is it you’re dying to know?”

[bluemoonperegrine]

I just reblogged a post about why there are hardly any female werewolves in media. This is timely because @vicarious-rebel and I are about to officially introduce a female werewolf character in our MK/WBN crossover AU.

I'll babble a little more below. Be forewarned of SPOILERS if you're reading that fic.

The werewolf is Yocasta, Jack's and Lissa's grandmother and the family matriarch. This woman is fierce and maternal. No one fucks with her family more than once, if you get my meaning. She and others before her have kept a whole mess of werewolves in line. They're doing okay for the most part.

Family gatherings are next level, as is gossip about that strange, close-knit family out in the boondocks.

Yocasta's mate Juan is human and a lot of fun to write. She's the boss, but he has his own quiet authority.

It'll be a blast when gringo Marc finally gets to meet the fam. 🤣

[lunargazing-png]

What would each faction/species think about the Gems?

SPLATS AGAINST MY SCREEN. Hi, thank you so much for sending in an ask 😁😁!! I love questions like this and ur feeding my au braincell by sending them in 🤲 I am so appreciative! I think the BEST way I could organize this is to put it into a list format, so that's exactly what I'll do! Sorry if this is a little rambly and incoherent, it's usually what's happening in my brain to begin with so /lh This is also going to be so damn long and also im gonna probably make a pt.2 of this. I apologize, I hope u like long reads !!🙏

Funny that you specify factions, because in my AU there isn't any official "citadel race" differentiation. Most other races (including the Krogan, Quarians, Drell, Volus, Elcor, Hanar, Batarians, and Geth) are now a part of the major decision-making through universal voting instead of being voted by the Citadel Councilors individually. They still take care of personal affairs but each race has a citadel councilor now. This is important because there's a lot of political tension regarding how they're dealing with the Diamond Empire's sudden takeover.

The Asari, being quite well known for their diplomacy, were probably the first to try and control the chaos of what was happening diplomatically when the Diamond Empire decided to roll in. I imagine that Asari believe that most things can be an easy discussion. They easily spot common ground to form bonds with individuals from the Gem race. They're both usually mono-gender presenting, and both their people in higher authority are referred to as matriarchs. Azure Diamond (or blue diamond) is the overseer of law and represents justice in the empire, and the asari counselor firmly believes that they're the only Diamond who will listen. Azure isn't... very level-headed when it comes to talking to other species, though. The Asari are the only ones she can stand.

The Salarians hate how smart Gems are. Their technology, the way they work, and the way they strategize is something of equal fascination and envy. They like to be one step ahead of the enemy, but when Sur'Kesh was suddenly overrun by this unknown force, saying they were pissed was an understatement. They are putting their best men on the front lines to learn more and find weaknesses to them. The STG specifically is working extremely closely with the Turians and Humans to figure out what the hell is going on and organizing armies to combat the colonization of their home planet. The salarian councilor carries many regrets of initially refusing to provide aid to Earth during the Reaper War, so she's feeling the karma coming to bite her in the ass. I think a lot of Salarians are carrying the ideal of 'think three steps ahead' when making contact with Gems, and especially about Pink Diamond since she's the spearhead of the colonization efforts of the Empire.

The Turians are entirely concerned about Yellow Circuit Diamond. They are full-blown head-to-head with the sheer amount of force that her domain has, and they're already having trouble keeping up with Pink Diamond's armies. While turians pride themselves in how they go about warfare and they stick to a code, Yellow is downright dirty in her tactics and isn't afraid to show how heartless she is when it comes to how she values the life of her soldiers. They're still recovering from Palaven's takeover from the Reaper War, and it's basically like re-opening a fresh wound. The turian councilor is concerned about how his armies are fairing and has ordered most of his soldiers to have a 'shoot on sight' policy. Every turian has a job to do and that is the bare minimum.

Humans are feeling the whole 'oh god not THIS again' schtick, and they see the gems as a major threat. They've had too many colonies get wrecked by the Reaper War, and Earth is still in SHAMBLES as it tries to recover. I think this is a fun thing to mention, but I imagine that the planet is so fucked that the empire is like 'Errr... do we want this one?' and so set it aside, which is probably the first mistake that Pink Diamond makes. Shoutout to the INDOMITNABLE human spirit, cause those fuckers are not shy to spread out and help the other races. They've learned the first time not to ignore when things are going wrong with the Reapers, they are NOT making that same mistake again. The human counselor holds the value of 'no one gets left behind' and she's willing to spread her numbers around to aid a little bit in every place she can. She focuses on the bigger picture.

The Krogans are motivated more than ever. They have families to defend now and are doing everything in their power to fight for a greater future under Urdnot Wrex's word. The councilor is no stranger to this entire escapade and is on the front lines of the war himself, leaving his council chair absent from all of the political discussion. The krogan see the Gems as something similar to the Geth heretics; machines of some kind with the intelligence to kill. That in itself is enough of a reason and they don't care who or what sort of domain they represent. They just want them gone. Interestingly enough, I don't think all krogan think that way. While it would be amazing that every single krogan listens to Wrex, I believe there are probably several clans that have deflected after not sharing his beliefs on the matter of reconstruction of their society while also combatting the empire. I think the common belief between these folks is that they don't believe in the vision or they're just unwilling to accept the change. I imagine The Blood Pack working undercover with Gem mercenaries to gain some sort of political headway over Clan Urdnot.

The Quarians are already defending their homeworld again from being taken over. They are ALL too familiar with synthetic uprisings, and the Gems are just another thing to worry about. Instead of moving forwards, it feels like two steps backward for these poor folks. They're more nervous than ever as they race to re-colonize their planet from Azure Diamond's soldiers. Can you imagine the anger of fighting back your planet, only for someone else to take it before you? There's anger and confusion and the Quarian councilor is butting heads with the asari and how they're dealing with azure. They think they're too light, too curious, too diplomatic. You want to talk about justice? They will show the Gems justice.

[ravensilversea]

I'll Tell You How the Sun Rose

Title: I'll Tell You How the Sun Rose

Author: Raven_Silversea

Rating: T

Pairing: Colonnello & Aloy, background Colonnello/Lal Mirch/Reborn

Prompt: Reincarnation AU / Oblivious Flirting

Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Nora!Colonnello, set during Horizon: Zero Dawn, Post- The City of the Sun Quest, Pre- Into the Borderlands Quest

“You could go back, you know,” Aloy says in the middle of looting a supply chest. “I mean,” she gestures at the bodies and destroyed machines all around them, “the killers are dead, you avenged your brother, and I bet Sona and Teersa will support your return-”

“I have people I’m looking for, kora,” Colonnello cuts her off. He tosses a broken arrow to the side and pulls another, still intact, one from the next body to add to his collection. Jumping down from the quarry ledge to the wooden platform Aloy’s crouched on, he splits his arrow collection in half and passes some to her. “I would have left years ago, but the Matriarchs wouldn’t give me the Seeker’s Mark, even though I won the Proving.”

Aloy frowns. “I thought you could ask for anything.” She does a cursory wipe of the arrows to remove any wet blood before slotting them into her quiver. 

Colonnello snorts as he haphazardly throws his own arrows into the quiver on his back. He’ll clean and organize them better next time they make camp, so there’s no reason for Aloy to glare at him like that, especially since she’ll also have to clean her arrows later. “Yeah, well, you’re not supposed to ask for leave to come and go from the Sacred Lands, kora.” He about-turns and starts walking towards the quarry exit, and the scrambling of boots against stone tell him that Aloy’s following. 

“So…” she drawls. “What did you get as your boon?”

Ao3

Colonnello sighs, looking up to the blue afternoon sky and beseeching a dead god for patience. “I settled for changing my name and getting a post on the border.”

“Bet the Matriarches took that well.”

“Ha! They hated it almost as much as my mother did.” If his brother hadn’t been her favorite child before that day, he certainly was after. Not that Colonnello blames her for it. He’s always been a shitty son, and this is now the second life running he’s left his mother grieving while he fucks off into danger to run away from his own grief.

Aloy brushes past him and does a running leap to the first handhold. The sunlight gleams off her red hair, and her smile almost puts its brightness to shame. She’s so goddamn young, and his brother was too. Too young to hold all of Teersa’s hopes on her shoulders and far too young to die. 

His climb up the handholds and ledges is slower than hers, which she always takes a moment to tease him about. “Do I need to slow down for you, old man?” she asks from above him with a grin.

“I’ll show you who’s old,” he grumbles and hauls himself up and over the last ledge out of the quarry. He’s not old. He’s nowhere near old. Twenty is nothing compared to being a hundred despite being physically fifty. Just because she’s sixteen and wandering around with only one set of memories doesn’t make him old.

Well, he thinks as Aloy runs up to their Strider and does minor repairs on it before slinging her packs over it’s rear end already to get going and do the next thing. Maybe he is a bit old.

“One of these days, kora,” he says, mounting up behind her on the horse-like machine, “I am going to introduce you to the concept of a siesta.”

Aloy laughs. “You keep saying that and have yet to do it.”

“It hasn’t been ‘one of these days’ yet, kora.”

Aloy waits days to ask who he’s looking for, and Colonnello’s honestly a bit surprised she waited that long. She doesn’t exactly have tact and does have a desire to know everything about everything. 

The campfire crackles as Colonnello rotates the rabbits he’s cooking for their dinner, and somewhere in the distance, a Longleg blasts something. Probably a fox. Maybe some poor fool who got too close to the machine herd.

Aloy shifts so that she’s sitting directly across from him, which makes it hard to ignore her expectant expression.

He sighs and sits back against the rock behind him. How does he even explain that he’s looking for people he’s known most of his life but also never met? People who are long dead and possibly not even born, or born and don’t remember him? The stars and Milky Way above him give Colonnello no answers.

“Were they taken in the Red Raids?” Aloy asks quietly, already seeming to brace herself for his answer. She’s heard enough people’s stories at this point, Colonnello supposes it’s only to be expected that she starts there. Still…

“No. Well, maybe, kora. I don’t know.” He jabs the poker stick into the fire and nudges the logs until one’s back begins to crumble off. Pulling out the stick, he shoves the glowing tip into the dirt to extinguish it. “They aren’t Nora.” At least, he doesn’t think they’re Nora. Even without their memories, he’s pretty confident he would have recognized them.

At least… God, he hopes he would.

Aloy’s brow furrows. “Then how… you’ve never left the Sacred Lands.”

“Until now, yep.” Colonnello tests the rabbits, determines they’re cooked, and tosses one to Aloy. “It’s… complicated.”

“Complicated as in Rules of the Nora complicated or complicated as in why you know so much about the Old Ones complicated.” 

Colonnello gapes at her, even as Aloy takes a large bite of her rabbit and raises her eyebrow. She’s sharper than a tack, he can’t deny that no matter how much he grumbles about it. “Viper would skin me alive for dropping enough hints for you to pick up on that, kora,” he mutters. Aloy grins. 

Colonnello takes a bite of rabbit and chews it thoughtfully. “The second one,” he wags his pointer finger downwards in the air like he was picking a gameshow answer. “I knew them Before. In my last life.”

Aloy’s eyebrows climb so high, they almost get lost in her hairline. “Your what.”

“My last life. What part wasn’t I clear about, kora?” Colonnello says with a broad, teasing grin. “I have memories of the Old World when I was an ‘Old One’.” He fingerquotes, and Aloy screws up her face in confusion when he does.

She gestures at the air. “What was that? Why did you do that?”

“Oh it’s an Old Ones thing. You wouldn’t understand, kora.” He takes another bite of his dinner while Aloy makes a teakettle noise of frustration. 

He spends the rest of the meal explaining different idiosyncrasies of the Old World before there were machines and when the ruins were actually towering buildings people lived and worked in. But as they climb into their bedrolls, Colonnello knows Aloy isn’t done with their initial conversation. She’s far too nosy to be.

He’s right, of course. Aloy brings it up again one night while they’re riding along the road, right after they’ve outrun a herd of Chargers who took them going past as a challenge for about five miles. “You love her, whoever you’re looking for,” Aloy says.

Colonnello watches the last Charger disappear from the horizon behind them and turns back around. They literally spent most of the day sitting in a small cave waiting out a sandstorm, and she waits until now to ask. “Them. I love both of them, kora,” he whispers.

Aloy’s quiet for a moment. Colonnello isn’t surprised. While there are a few polyamorous partnerships amongst the Nora, she’s spent maybe a week amongst the tribe itself and most of that was spent helping in the immediate aftermath of the Proving. It’ll take her a moment to add the concept into her worldview, but only because she never considered it before. While she does, he looks over her shoulder to the road ahead, trying to draw centuries old constellations in the new starfield again.

“What were they like?”

Fuck, how to describe them? How to encapsulate all that is Reborn and Lal into a few short sentences when they were two of the Strongest Seven with reputations to match? 

He settles on, “He was an asshole, and she could kick my ass,” to start.

Aloy bursts out laughing. “Sounds like my kind of people.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.” Lal would absolutely adore Aloy. She’s the right kind of scrappy and smart that would make Lal want to take her right under her wing. Reborn would take those same qualities as a challenge, and he’d spent every waking moment trying to trip her up and make her even better than she already was. All in all, Aloy was scary now? The earth itself would quake beneath her feet after those two were done with her, and Colonnello wishes he could see it.

“Both of them were terrifying teachers, but they wanted their students to be their best. Reborn was just more willing to drag the more useless-appearing ones to greatness while Lal had a more sink or swim mentality.”

“Got personal experience with that one?” Aloy smirks over her shoulder, barely visible in the moonlight.

Colonnello chuckles. “It’s how I met Lal. I was assigned to her squad, and she ran me over with a tank- uh, those square-ish ruins with a canon we see along the road sometimes.”

“She ran you over with one of those?”

“Hey now! I lived didn’t I?”

Aloy gives him a squint-eyed look that says so much about what she thinks of that. She mutters something about it breaking his self-preservation a whole lifetime later, but he can’t quite make it out.

“Reborn was my best friend,” he continues. “Dramatic to the extreme, loved tormenting his students and seeing them shake in their boots, but he would have killed anyone who tried to touch a hair on their heads.” He trails off. “I’d be more worried about any Carja who tried to drag them off during the Red Raids then them to be honest. They were two of the strongest people in the world, and everyone knew it, kora.”

“Now you’re exaggerating.”

Colonnello shakes his head with a smile, but there’s no real explaining the I Prescelti Sette and the Arcobaleno Curse, much less his role in it. At least, not right now. Instead, he fills the night with stories about Reborn and Lal, both their accomplishments and their most embarrassing failures, as well as how they all ended up together. Just glossing over the curse and mafia aspects of it all.

They arrive at Meridian in the gray hours just before dawn. A man is waiting for them at the gates and introduces himself as Blameless Marad with a closed-lipped smile and knowing eyes, and Colonnello immediately pegs him as a spy. Unlike Viper, who had carried themselves with a disinterested air that allowed them to slide into the background unless you were willing to buy the information they had, Marad clearly wants them to know he has information and is not afraid to use it. It makes him dangerous.

Colonnello rests his hand on the hilt of the knife he keeps on his hip. Marad’s eyes follow the motion before cutting back up to smirk at Colonnello. “The Sun-King requests your presence, Aloy and Colonnello of the Nora,” he says. “If you would follow me?”

Marad leads them through the early morning bustle of the city, merchants and tradesmen only just beginning to set up their tables while guards conduct a shift change. The palace is separated from the city proper by a long bridge, and then by seemingly endless stairs dotted with Carja nobles also seeking an audience with the Sun-King.

Twisting her head at every noble they pass, Aloy’s eyes clearly track up and down the fine clothing, accessories, and distinct lack of weaponry. Their escort skillfully redirects her attention to their ascent with quiet lectures about the history and architecture of the palace while Colonnello pointedly glares at every noble who mutters something about rising early every morning for days and the “Nora savages” getting to skip the line. He may be able to restraint himself from picking a fight, but Aloy’s only sixteen and has the short temper to go with it.

It doesn’t stop Marad from dryly catching Colonnello’s eye when Colonnello starts tapping his fingers against his knife hilt.

They climb the last stairs and turn towards a balcony. The view is primarily blocked by a large metal-carved throne facing out over the city, and Colonnello has to respect the dedication to the view despite the security hazard. But then again, it’s not like any of the tribes have developed (or dug up any) snipe rifles yet, and arrows only go so far.

Three figures step out from the shadows of the throne. The first, a bare-chested man save for an open-robe and a large metal-and-machine-part necklace, wearing a geometric headpiece. Presumably, he’s the Sun-King. He greets them with a bright smile. The second is Erend, who pulls Aloy into a tight hug.

The third… It’s the tilt of his head that gives him away, and Colonnello is moving, brushing past the Sun-King mid-sentence, and wrapping his arms around the shadowed man just as dawn breaks over the mesa. Arms wrap around him in return as he breathes in the new but familiar scent of resin instead of gunpowder, oasis and desert instead of coffee, and sunlight which has somehow stayed the same.

Colonnello pulls back to look into the same gunmetal colored eyes he remembers and says, almost breathes it feels like, “Where the fuck have you been, kora?”

Reborn huffs. His stupid curly sideburns have also the journey from one life to the next, and Colonnello wants to pull them just to see them bounce again. “Right here, idiota,” Reborn says before leaning in and kissing Colonnello. 

It burns like the morning sun against the cold desert night, and Colonnello wraps his fingers in the curls on the back of Reborn’s head, pulling him closer as if to soak up all the rays and embed the feeling of this one kiss into his bones. Because last life, he had almost forgotten this feeling, up on that cold mountain with Lal and the other soldiers and endless swarm of machines and no idea if Reborn was still out there somewhere while the apocalypse rained down upon the world.

Reborn’s the one to break the kiss, leaving them both panting. The bastard smirks down at him, carefully untangles Colonnello’s fingers from his hair, and pulls away. “So,” he says, “When did you adopt a kid?”