#duplicitous fate au

[duplicitousfate]

Praying for Narinder and his cringe fail babygirl rizz.

(art by @dashing-through-ecto )

meme ref under the cut

[fool-for-luv]

hello lovelies, new bugborg fic is up on my ao3! i've missed my gals! check it out!

you’ll be sorry that you messed with us

mantis/nebula

gamora/peter quill

“He abandoned me,” she murmurs. Mantis isn’t certain if she means Ronin, or Thanos himself, but the result, either way, is clear. Nebula is hurt, and she is alone. 

Mantis takes Nebula’s face in both her hands and leans her forehead against hers. Nebula shudders with the contact, but doesn’t move away. 

“We will make them sorry,” Mantis promises. “We will make them all sorry. Both of us, together.” 

__

Before the formation of the Guardians of the Galaxy, a duplicitous alliance is struck between Thanos and Ego, the Living Planet.  In service to this alliance, the Daughters of Thanos, Nebula and Gamora, and Ego’s children, the young celestial Peter Quill and the empath Mantis, come together, each with their own agendas. When an unexpected bond begins to form between Mantis and Nebula, both cast-off daughters in their own right, they must all reassess their roles, their wants, and the intended fate of the universe. 

A canon-divergent AU set before GOTG. Bugborg centric. 

[ajcrawly]

🔥!!

🔥- Name a crackship, now convince me why it would work!

In all honesty the problem (?) with TLT and this question is that it's so easy to find justifications for nearly all ships. As Archimedes never said, 'give me a situation big enough and I'll make those blorbos kiss'

I mean, whatever it is, it can't be one of the Lyctors - God's duplicitous sluts will get it on with anyone, in any permutation, given enough time and 10,000 years of emotional fuckery to draw from. There's some absolutely killer fics out there pairing various lyctors with Palamedes, and they all slap.

So, leaving out the Lyctors (much as I adore them) gives us this rather darling random selector as below, non-exhaustive but I think I hit the main beats:

Putting in a break here because this gets long:

Spin 1 gave me Ianthe and Alecto which would seem to be ill-fated given that (1) Alecto's out to kill God, which Ianthe doesn't want (yet) and (2) Their first meeting was a literal slap in the face to Ianthe, which may not be a deal-breaker but certainly wouldn't help

But if we wind canon back a tad and give ourselves a world in which John didn't imprison Alecto on the Ninth, the Mithraeum set-up looks a little different. Here's Ianthe confronted with the same power dynamics we see in HtN, albeit with the addiiton of one extra who:

Is God's undisputed favourite

Scares the shit out of the other Lyctors (what a power play!)

Exists as a very literal manifestation of Resurrection magic, Ianthe's chosen topic of interest.

Ianthe can't lie to Alecto - nobody can - and she's not going to win her over with kindness and good graces, but she's not above using vulnerability to her own ends and Alecto (six foot, blonde, quite possibly bears more than a passing resemblance to Coronabeth) might find herself confronted with somebody who very honestly and earnestly wants to spend time with her and get to know more about her, even if she isn't necessarily being honest about why that is. Meanwhile, Alecto - who has spent the last 10,000 years on a spaceship with only John and the other Lyctors for company - is lonely. And here's somebody new, and bizarre, and potentially interesting. At the very least they might chat. Alecto 'this is how meat loves meat' the First might find herself quite comforted by someone who's all too willing to lean into brutality and take everything at face value if that's what's required of her.

(Where's Harrow in this AU? Good question - not only does Gideon not exist in an AU where Dios Apate never occurred, it's quite possible that neither does the Ninth House; we know it was never supposed to, and whatever it is, it doesn't have the theological weight of the Tomb behind it, which diminishes its already-shaky claim to status. Either Harrow doesn't exist at all, or she does, but she wasn't invited as a scion to Canaan House with the rest)

I'm just saying, I could see it.

Anyway, just to labour the point further:

Spin 2 gave me Palamedes and Wake which I grant you is significantly more tricky but let me give it the old college try:

Okay, so first we have to concoct a situation in which Palamedes and Wake would ever get to meet, which is somewhat hampered by the fact that she died when he was two years old. But we don't let a little thing like death stop us in the necromancy books, do we? There are options with regard to revenants (e.g Palamedes Ascends to Lyctorhood and meets Wake-in-Cytherea - what a confusing interaction that would be for the poor fellow) but I'll constrain myself to actual living Wake for the thought exercise.

Option 1: Taking the above AU for sheer convenience, if the Tomb is never sealed and Dios Apate never occurs, Wake doesn't die on the Ninth. She's alive (wahey!) and therefore free to meet the Master Warden at a later date.

Option 2: Wake does crash on the Ninth but survives and makes good her escape, living to fight another day

Option 3: Wake does crash on the Ninth, survives and is taken prisoner, kept on Ninth for a brief period before being presumably picked up and taken away by the Cohort (from where she can escape, be murdered by them, hostage exchange, indoctrination, all manner of options)

In either options 1 or 2 we have the option of introducing Wake at Canaan House as one of the BOE operatives working with Cytherea intending to pick over the rubble of the various dead Lyctors, only slightly inconvenienced by the fact that (1) Wake wants Palamedes dead and (2) even if she didn't, he rather unhelpfully kills himself

So instead, let's do a necro-cav roleswap because frankly I love them and examine cavalier Palamedes Sextus. Still immensely smart, still writing letters to Dulcinea, still inseparable from Camilla Hect. Could Camilla Hect be the Master Warden? Arguably. Could Palamedes Sextus be a cavalier primary? Alas, I doubt it - I can imagine a world in which he doesn't have necromantic aptitude, but not one in which he has physical coordination. In this AU he probably ends up on Sixth forever (in data) except that he's still writing to Dulcinea, concertedly studying non-medical necromancy and writing increasingly impassioned papers about how 'necromancy for everything makes one lazy' and shouldn't we all be thinking a little less about animaphilia and a little more about basic curative practices (and can we please stop stabbing ourselves with implements that haven't been appropriately sterilised, how we haven't all died of sepsis by now is God's own mystery) -

And he starts to make a name for himself, and draw a reputation, because if Palamedes Sextus is anything it's chronically unable to shut up. Which is to say, you've been headhunted and it's off to the Cohort with you, chum. Non-necromantic medics are a rarity, but very useful for thanergetically-depleted environments where it's inconvenient to start killing off the population just to heal your cav's broken ribs. Now we have a Cohort Palamedes (under significant duress), separated from Camilla (heartbreaking, sorry) and Dulcinea (likewise) operating in the field primarily in environments which are inhospitable to necromancers - thalergenic planets, the outskirts of Empire - and therefore able to potentially run into BOE. Now we're talking!

From here, options. Hostage situation? Palamedes gets captured by BOE and talked around to the evils of empire as we see in As Yet Unsent. More likely, operating as a Cohort medic out on the fringes and in the thick of the action, I think we might start to see Palamedes doing this of his own volition - and in a situation in which he finds himself with a room full of people who need healing, he's not going to give much of a fuck who is Cohort and who is BOE, he's far more concerned with who is dead and who is instead merely dying and therefore somebody he can help.

Anyway, one engineers a meeting between Palamedes (cocky, jaded, I think significantly spikier from a) not being a necromancer b) separated from his loved ones c) generally fucked off by the crushing reality of imperialism and war) and Wake (landmine person, takes no shit). Necromancer Palamedes and Wake are a non-starter, but as a cavalier - and a medic, no less - he's a useful tool for her. They'd fight like cats in a bag but I think he'd be impressed by her, and she might be amused by him. He bickers and argues and generally makes himself a nuisance. She's a firebrand leader with an absolute singleminded focus. I can definitely see charged moments over wounds and bandages, that's all I'm saying.

Look, am I saying that I'm going to start shipping Ianthe/Alecto or Wake/Palamedes anytime soon - probably not. But !! Every time I see a 'crackship' or something totally new where someone's figured out a way to get different bozos into the same get-along t-shirt, an angel gets its wings. Absolutely no offence to all the people out there writing modern (frequently college) AU griddlehark but nothing thrills me more than seeing a ship tag and having to do a double take because ??? who put them in the same room?

I don't know if that answered your question at all actually but thank you for asking it ilu aust <3

[imbouttasue]

the "Tweeter Diary" side story but dolshi is ergi. Ta-da !! new erkenna AU. Huge novel spoilers.

Part 1

Part 2

Summary: Angel gave ergi an enchanted bracelet that can turn a person into someone they wish to be. Ergi - with his self-insecurities and feelings for Mckenna - the bracelet turned him to a woman. He'll only come back to his true form once he took the bracelet off.

Angel stole the bracelet from the Eastern Empire dean.

The bracelet is rose-gold in color, and it looks like three handcuffs glued together.

Of course, the dean is beyond pissed at getting his bracelet stolen, and demands other mages to capture the thief. Other empires and kingdoms are searching for the bracelet as well because there's a huge cash price.

Angel gave the bracelet to Ergi as a "gift." Ergi accepts it reluctantly only because he wants the scoundrel out of his sight.

Surprise - ergi's father ordered angel to get rid of him in exchange of a huge sum of money. Angel decides to give the bracelet to the duke, because if his appearance is changed, no one will recognize him. Worse case scenario, the dean will eliminate him for "stealing" his bracelet. angel's hands won't get dirty, and the guy will be dead. It's a win-win situation.

Ergi's father wants him dead because he hates him... that's it

"Patience, grand duke. Your duplicitous son will be the one to decide his fate."

After repeatedly getting manipulated by his father about his own self as a whole (wishing that he had a daughter instead, etc.), and also hearing about mckenna looking for a lady to marry from heinrey as a tipping point, he got tempted to wear the bracelet.

He wore it, and turned to a woman.

His pronouns will be your/mom

He went outside of the palace, knowing that with his new appearance, he's not the duke anymore.

Ergi touches the somehow long strands of his hair, frowning. He's wearing a coat to hide himself. He's currently on the pathway in his dukedom. It'll took a while before he'll make it to the entrance. And it's morning! Just perfect for him to be seen and caught by the guards.

Who would have thought that Angel is being serious, anyway?

He tried taking the bracelet off, but it bear no good. It's persistently intact on his wrist. He keeps on walking out the pathway, and on his dismay, a guard blocked him in his way.

"Halt. Who are you?" Great.

"I'm a maid." He replied. Wow, my voice sounds nice, actually.

"I've never seen you before." Another sentinel enters. They held his chin, and he turned away with a subtle snarl. "She has a pretty face, don't you think?"

"As pretty as the grand duke's son, mayhaps."

A chill runs down Ergi's spine as both guards bursts into laughter. "My, what humor you have! If only he has a more petite figure to match his face, I would ravish him every night."

"You are lusting over him? Foul!"

"Quit it! Aren't you the same?!" The scandalous guard cages Ergi with their arms, and he winced. He feels so small, like a prey. He doesn't like it.

"What do you say, we have some fun with this woman? She doesn't look like she could lift a finger."

Son of a - is this how the society treats a lady?

"You're disgusting." Ergi says with gritted teeth. "Let go of me."

They laughed at his display, and he feels himself getting suffocated. Just as his pride begins to crumble, he sees a glimmer of blue hair. A glimmer of hope.

He launches forward, attempting to get away from the guards. "McKenna!" He yells, and the knight turned to his direction. Ergi almost sighs in relief at seeing him, desperately wanted to get out of the situation he didn't expect to be put in - not until the confused knight turned back his heel. He walked away.

Like he doesn't know him.

... he doesn't recognize me.

The torturous tittering among the duchy's guards is so close to sending ergi to a killing spree. He's not only annoyed, his pride is wounded. The insufferable feelings he had for the knight made it worse.

The guards pinned him to the wall roughly. The impact took the air out of him. He closed his eyes to minimize the pain.

It feels like thorns being tied on his neck.

They touched his ears as if he's an object.

He can't breathe.

You're supposed to be a knight, birdbrain. I'm a damsel in distress. Why aren't you helping me?

Do you really never cared for me?

Suddenly, he heard a loud crack! and the air around him felt lighter. He opened his eyes little by little, and he saw the guards passed out on the ground. Breathless, he looked up; and saw the pair of black eyes he adored so much.

"You must be new in this household, miss," McKenna utters, but Ergi is so lost in the moment to care about anything he says. So this is how being saved feels like. "most working men here are - um, well, perverted. I hope you talk to the head maid soon about the safe routes you can take to avoid them."

Ergi choked out a cry.

McKenna flinched, startled. This ... woman just called him minutes ago - he doesn't even know her! - and is confusing him even more. Why is she crying?

By then, he noticed her eyes. It's pretty. A cute shade of green. Almost as deep-colored as an endless sea. It feels familiar.

"M-miss?"

"Birdbrain!" Ergi jumps at him, forgetting proper decorum - enveloping him in a hug. His tears fall. Overwhelmed by all the things his father said to him, the helplessness of knowing that he will lose this man so soon when he never even got the chance to hold him like this.

McKenna makes the noise of a dying bird. Now, their emotions in this moment are clashing. Ergi is emotional. In the eyes of the birdbrain however, what the maiden is doing doesn't make a single sense.

"It's me, birdbrain, please ... " her cries are enough to make any men waver, including him. But still!

He awkwardly pushes her away.

"I-I'm really sorry, you must have confused me for your lover or, haha, something."

He saw her tearful eyes when he looks down on her. No in snowballs name of hell. He would not succumb to some crocodile tears!

"It's me, Ergi. I could explain all of this ... please listen to me." He heard her say once more. His jaw is on the floor, almost literally.

[omgkalyppso]

thinking about shahid laughing about claude stopping an assassin / surviving an assassination he arranged before his (shahid's) capture and then several hours later whether drunk with company or sober alone, crying about it.

he's crying about where life has left him and several successive failures. he wonders where he would be now if this assassination had been the end of his brother. he wishes him dead. he wonders how he can both want that so badly and yet have failed so spectacularly the first time he sought to kill khalid, knife in hand, scarring their sister, sara, and begging her for mercy. and since then every violent impulse he'd felt against his siblings (in this au) was only halted by how he could use them to propel his chance at succession and their own (and especially khalid's) downfalls.

there are people he loves that he would see ruined and broken, and what does that matter with where it's left him, and what does that leave him for when he is to be sent home.

he doesn't love khalid, but he doesn't hate him either, not in the way of their superstitious elders, nor as he should, as he deserves, as he feels entitled to. he should hate their eldest brother, sarim, first, but he doesn't feel robbed by him the way it has always felt like khalid enters a room and steals all admiration, vitriolic and saccharine. sarim brings himself glory, and yet remains a buffoon, easily outstepped at any time, whether by him or khalid, sarim is only a final stepping stone, meanwhile khalid is duplicitous and silver-tongued, a threat to almyran order and interests and shahid's own prosperity.

shahid doesn't see how khalid is working with or for anyone but himself, but he does see how people adore him and entertain his ideas and capabilities, or how they challenge him. his own extensions of respect feel much harder-won, deserved by birth and by capability but denied for the same reasons; and now lost in his solitude, in claude's custody, in the land of claude's recreant mother and recalcitrant people.

the march on fodlan was always going to carve out his reputation, but shahid thought he had control of it; but how Fate laughs and Vengeance festers. he is alone, with no one privy to his logic or ambitions, his dark desires and noble aspirations. he is nothing but a failed conqueror, a cruel brother, a disobedient son, and a prisoner with loose ends. there is nothing the world could offer him that would balm his shame, less than nothing that could repair his glory.

.

But he's being So Dramatic because Claude is treating him well and out of a cell as soon as they're at the Riegan Estate. Two of his sisters even come to check on him and inquire about returning him to Almyra, promising Claude to keep him from their father's wrath and sorrow.

[etherbonded]

silver-strings-of-fate​:

@etherbonded asked// “How do I know you won’t just stab me in the back?” black!mask himari to trash man ( au where she is actually thinking about joining up with him so she can kill him later along with shido? :eyes: )

Suspicious Sentence Starters

–

“I understand your concern, Himarin. But why would I go through all this trouble to get you on my side only to throw you away? No, I assure you, betrayal is beneath me.”

It was only natural for her to worry about potential double-crossing. Such duplicitous behavior was only human. But Ren was more than a simple human, or at least he would be soon. And a god had no use for such base trickery.

“I don’t expect you to put your trust in me blindly. Instead, I’ll show you exactly why trusting me is in your best interest.”

" For it to be all the more satisfying to watch me fall and crumble beneath you, if you want my honesty but I have a feeling that you don't exactly like that answer. " Ren knows by now that there is more to this woman than her politeness and softness. She's a loving person but... she's so extremely distrusting. He's earned that much knowledge about her, and he should be glad she's being so bluntly honest rather than sugar coating it.

She's not going to trust him, she's going to make it seem like she does by giving little things that may seem significant and make it look like she trusts him, just to watch him bleed out in the end. Just another kill like her husband. But, a sigh falls from her mouth as he continues to speak, " ...Alright then, fine. I'll be on your side. But just know that I still have to remain by Masayoshi's side too sometimes in order not to rouse suspicion. The man's not as stupid as one may think he is, there's a reason why he has so many connections and why he’s still popular with some of the public y’know RenRen. "

Besides, she’s not sure she can tolerate being around this good for nothing bastard man for extremely long periods of time like she can with Masayoshi. And the last thing she needs is to be snapping at either if she wants this to go off without a hitch.

[scarletjedi]

Untitled Untamed Time Travel Fixit AU but make it Mingcheng

@piyo-13

Part 1

Part 2A

PART 2B: GUSU UNLEASHED

Nie Huaisang immediately grabs a piece of blank paper to write a message back to Nie Mingjue, leaving Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian staring at each other. “Well,” Wei Wuxian said after a minute. “Aren’t you going to write to him, too?”

Jiang Cheng startled, he’d been too caught up in Huaisang’s words, “He’s alive!”. He had been prepared to go through the process of meeting Nie Mingjue again, of hopefully catching his attention, of watching A-Jue fall for him the way Jiang Cheng had fallen years ago — that his lover was here, alive, and *knew him* had not had time to process.

Trembling, Jiang Cheng moved from his bed, weak limbs pouring him like water until he was sat up against the table, taking the paper that Huaisang handed him. He stared, blankly. What to *say*?

“Tell him you love him,” Wei Wuxian said from his bed.

“Tsk, he knows that,” Jiang Cheng said with little snap.

“Then tell him you want to fuc—”

“Ah, la la la la!” Nie Huaisang said, covering his ears, and Wei Wuxian fell back laughing. Nie Huaisang winked at him. “Be honest,” he said. “But be short,” he looked down at his own missive. “All of this needs to fit on the bird.”

Nodding, Jiang Cheng picked up his brush. After a moment, he put ink to paper, writing in quick, sure strokes. He fanned the paper back and forth a few times to dry the ink faster, and folded the note to hand to Huaisang. Huaisang took it with a grin and ran from the room to send the message back.

“What did you write?” Wei Wuxian asked.

“None of your business.”

Two days later Nie Zonghui would bring the messages to Nie Mingjue, who would open Huaisang’s note, only to have a smaller note fall free. He would pick it up with a small frown before reading Huaisang’s note, smiling — blinking, then reading the note again. “If he put nearly have the effort into studying...” he muttered and Zongui would hide a smile. Then, Mingjue would open the smaller missive, nearly dropping the paper in shock, scrambling to catch it. “Sect Leader?” Zonghui would ask, and when Nie Mingjue looked up, he would be beaming.

Now, Nie Mingjue, who had fought, lead, and won a war, lead a sect, and died a slow, agonizing descent into his greatest fears, finds himself once more at 19, newly made Section Leader, and the clearest minded he’s been in years, without the damage caused by cultivating a war and...well. He wasn’t actually sure *how* Meng Yao managed to kill him, just that he knew he had.

Which was another problem. By this point, Huaisang was safely in Cloud Recesses, but Meng Yao was on his way back to Qinghe. It would take him most of a week to return, traveling on horseback as he was, and Nie Mingjue wasn’t sure what reception Meng Yao should receive.

Meng Yao, long before he was renamed by his father, had acted in ways that were counter to the values of the Nie sect. Even if Nie Mingjue were to overlook the crimes he committed as Jin Guangyao, or the atrocities he participated in as a torturer for Wen Ruohan, his crimes began in Qinghe.

Crimes that, as far as Nie Mingjue was aware, had not yet happened. Even before Meng Yao had used the chaos of an attack to kill the captain of his guardNie, Mingjue was never sure how much Meng Yao spoke was the truth — just knew that at one point he was sure Meng Yao had never lied to him, and then was never sure Meng Yao was not lying.

In his previous life, Nie Mingjue turned most often to Lan Xichen for council, particularly wher Meng— Jin Guangyao was concerned. Then, as years passed, Xichen would turn ever more towards Jin Guangyao first, and Nie Mingjue found himself turning to Jiang Wanyin as their wartime sparring turned to tent-side comfort, to comraderie to courtship.

A-Cheng.

For all that Mingjue had more years of experience leading a sect, Wanyin’s experience was a similar enough trial by fire to grant him insight, and an outsider enough to the triumvirate to offer an outsider’s clarity.

Truly, his love possessed an uncanny wisdom hidden behind brusque words and toothless threats.

He wished for Wanyin’s council now. He wished for his presence. It had already been too long since they had last seen each other before Mingjue made his last, fateful visit to Jinlintai. It would likely be several months, if not years, before their paths would cross once more.

And— he missed his lover as a lover. Wanyin was a beautiful man, strong and proud and fierce and so sweet in private. A joy and a challenge.

Getting Huaisang’s letter was bittersweet because his didi had already suffered so much: even the first time, Mingjue had wanted Hauisang’s youth to be as worry free as possible, to have the freedom to be careless in a way Mingjue never had. And sweet, because it meant that Mingjue wasn’t alone in this.

Getting Wanyin’s message was a blessing and a curse. He had already resigned himself to wait, to reach out to the Jiang Sect in support to save Wanyin his own heartbreak, to court him properly from the beginning. To know that his love was here, and yet still so far out of reach...

Huaisang’s letter boiled down to “plan in motion. Do not engage.” Which...

“Didi,” Nie Mingjue muttered. “What are you doing?”

Because, the thing is, Mingjue would *like* to listen to Huaisang. Mingjue was tired, and doing the right thing was an increasingly difficult and murky task....but Mingjue was also a just and righteous man. Certain actions he would take no matter what...and certain actions he would not.

The facts were thus:

Meng Yao had killed him in a way that was both intensely malicious and duplicitous. (Nie Mingjue was unsure as to his motive. What did Meng Yao gain aside from petty revenge? No, the method was revenge. The act...the act was something different).

Meng Yao had not, as of yet, committed any crime, nor was he currently capable of the technique that had been used to kill Mingjue.

Nie Mingjue could not in good conscience kill a man who had committed no crime, nor could he stand by and allow another to fall off the righteous path when it was within his power to prevent. (Was it within his power?)

So, Nie Mingjue could neither punish Meng Yao for crimes he had not yet committed, nor could was he able to relax in Meng Yao’s presence the way he had the first time around.

...Maybe Huaisang had ideas.

[later] “I can’t believe this!” Huaisang glared at the letter from his brother. Jiang Cheng’s own letter sat in his pocket to be perused later. It felt almost hot, the way his focus continually drifted towards the folded paper, but he knew better than to read his lover’s letter in front of Huaisang. Not if he wanted to keep any pretense to dignity.

“What is it?” he prompted when Huaisang fell silent, re-reading furiously.

“He wants to rehabilitate Meng Yao! His own murderer!”

“Meng Yao didn’t come back with the rest of us,” Jiang Cheng offered. “He’s not the man who killed your brother. Not yet, anyway.”

“You didn’t see—” Huaisang cut himself off, looking away and biting his lip. Jiang Cheng shifted, focusing on the letter to let the heat of its presence chase away the chill of the reminder that when his lover had died, Jiang Cheng wasn’t there.

“A tiger can not change his stripes,” Nie Huaisang muttered, and hid his face behind his fan.

[The discussion over what happens to Meng Yao plays out thusly:

NHS: I don’t want to kill Meng Yao, Da-ge! I just don’t want him alive. Anymore.

NMJ: Didi, no.

NHS: Didi, yes!

Ultimately, NMJ pulls the big brother/sect leader card and says they have time to deal with Meng Yao, and since Meng Yao was currently NMJ’s problem, he would deal with it. NHS threw a tantrum that reminded everyone that yes, NHS is related to NMJ by blood, but finally went: “fine! It’s not like the *whole reason* we came back wasn’t to fuck up all of his shit!” and adjusted his plans again.]

When he goes back to his room, Jiang Cheng finds himself alone. He can bet that Wei Wuxian will be off with Lan Wangji (and no, Jiang Cheng doesn’t know why Wei Wuxian hasn’t just moved in with his boyfriend, considering how often he comes skittering into the room just on the wrong side of curfew, mussed and bruised in a very specific way that Jiang Cheng a) wants to know no more about and b)isn’t jealous of, fuck off.), so he has time to read his letter.

Cheng-er,

We never were a pair for letters, you and I, preferring to steal time for each other like a pair of romantic thieves. I regret, now, not making more time to woo and court you properly then — though I fear I already had all you could give — not desire, you showed me your hunger for me readily enough, matched only by my hunger for you — but hours of the day.

I think very fondly of our nights.

This second chance makes me desire to do better, to build you a place in my life from the start, as I hope you build a place for me. We are young, yet, and have time to hope.

I miss you, Wanyin. Cheng-er. Please write to me. A letter is a poor substitute for your fire, but I will cherish even these scraps above silence.

Yours,

A-Jue

Jiang Cheng wasn’t sure how long he was there, re-reading the letter, when Wei Wuxian tumbled in, only to stop when he caught sight of Jiang Cheng.

“Jiang Cheng! You’re pink!” Wei Wuxian crowed, pointing a finger and laughing at the way Jiang Cheng startled. “Who wrote to you to make you blush? What did he say?”

“None of your business,” Jaing Cheng snapped, tucking the letter away.

A-Jue,

Who gave you the right to write such a letter? Who would believe the NIe Sect leader to be so shameless? You can take a lesson from your brother in poetry if you are planning to continue!

Building a space — as if I did not rebuild my piers with a place for you. As if you had not already crawled into my heart to live.

I lost you once, A-Jue. I will not lose you again.

I await your next letter,

Yours, always,

Cheng-er

Jiang Cheng hands the folded paper to Nie Huaisang, face burning. For once, Nie Huaisang doesn’t tease, doesn’t give him a knowing smirk. Instead, his eyes are kind, and he takes the letter with little fanfare, tucking it neatly into his own missive to be sent off at once.

When the next letter comes, Jiang Cheng doesn’t even bother waiting, taking the letter and retreating to the sound of Nie Huaisang’s laughter.

Cheng-er

You want poetry, do you?...

Jiang Cheng’s eyes skip over the page and he gasps aloud, face burning as he looks around to see that no one else is near. To write such things! Shameless! But...oh, how it lights a fire in him, and he’s breathless with his, dizzy with sudden, frustrated want that he cannot satisfy.

In the end, Nie Mingjue was right. The words are a poor substitute, but Jiang Cheng would not trade this letter for anything.

The next morning, Jiang Cheng approaches Wei Wuxian with an idea for a long-distance communication array, one that could be personally powered and used. The reasons he gives are all to do with military strategy, but he needn’t have bothered. The challenge to create something new has Wei Wuxian distracted immediately, and he wanders off to the library mid-sentence.

The next free afternoon they have in Caiyi, Jiang Cheng purchases a wooden box, cleverly built with locking compartments and false bottoms. It is perfectly sized for folded letters.

Time passes. Now that Jiang Cheng has thirteen years of lived experience - and hard years of war and cuthroat sect politics and rebuilding his sect - the lessons aren’t easier, per say, but they have context that he missed the first time. HIs understanding is more in depth, which quickly makes him a favorite of Lan Qiren to call on — even if his actual answer (usually “threaten them with Zidian”) wasn’t the answer he provided in class. Wei Wuxian was also a calmer presence in class - still questioning, still pushing limits, but when Lan Qiren calls on Wei Wuxian to answer his questions, Wei Wuxian’s answers are thoughtful, inventive, but within the bounds of conventionality. Surprisingly, it’s Lan Wangji who suggests solutions that boarder on the heretical — solutions that Jiang Cheng knows come to pass, such as the spirit attraction flags.

It’s enough to make Lan Qiren change colors, and judging by the tiny smirk on LWJ’s face, it’s absolutely deliberate. (The one class that Lan Xichen sits in on is, actually, hilarious, as he seems consistently torn between laughter and exasperation at his brother’s small rebellion).

Nie Huaisang, however, seems to be *genuinely struggling* with the material. So much so that Jiang Cheng takes pity and drags him (and Wangxian) into the library one afternoon to actually study rather than their usual spot by the river where they would refine their plan to keep everyone alive that they actually cared about keeping alive, and killing those who needed killing as efficently as possible. (“That’s a rather blunt way of thinning about this, Jaing Cheng,” WWX said to him. JC had just shrugged. He didn’t see the reason to couch the truth in political double speak when he didn’t have to”)

After an hour or so, Nie Huaisang slumped forward over the table, thumping his forehead against he lacquered wood. “It’s no use. I’m going to have to repeat this year again, *again*”

“I don’t understand it,” Jiang Cheng said. He knew that Huaisang was smart; he figured out Jin Guangyao’s plot, he successfully modified the time travel array — Jiang Cheng was pretty sure he ran Qinghe’s spy rin duing the war, though that had never been confirmed. “I know you know things.”

“I don’t,” he wailed. “I don’t know anything. Don’t ask me.”

“I don’t mean to alarm anyone,” Wei Wuxian said, leaning in and keeping his voice low. “But we have a spy in our midst.”

“Those rumors were never proven,” Huaisang said, sniffling.

“Not you,” Wei Wuxian said, and angled his head in a way that he only thought was subtle towards where Jin Zixuan was sitting, stiff and imperious, with an exasperated Luo Qingyang. “He’s been doing that a lot,” he said.

Jiang Cheng watched him for a long moment, trying to remember the frustration he felt with a young Jin Zixuan who hadn’t yet unlearned the smug superiority of Jinlintai...but all he could see was little Jin Ling, awkward from growing up alone and desperately lonely (except Jin Ling had picked up Jiang Cheng’s bad habit of expressing any emotion as anger, and it seemed Zixuan had chosen...smug silence.)

“Aw, crap,” Jiang Cheng muttered, because as soon as he realized it, he knew what he had to do. Pushing himself up, he stalked over to Jin Zixuan, ignoring the hissed complaints of Wei Wuxian, and stared down at him, arms crossed.

“What do you want?” Jin Zixuan sneered. Behind him, Luo Qingyang rolled her eyes, and Jiang Cheng huffed.

“Cute. But you got nothing on my mother.” Jin Zixuan blinked, surprise loosening some of the stiffness in his posture. Rolling his eyes, Jiang Cheng snapped. “Look. You’re not subtle. We see you. So do you want to sit with us or not?” He looked between them. “Both of you.”

Jin Zixuan nodded, then blinked as if surprised at himself. Luo Qingyang stood to salute, but Jiang Cheng waved it off.

“Great, come on,” Jiang Cheng said, and turned around, not waiting to see if they. He sat back in his seat, shifting books to make room. He didn’t really want to sit next to Zixuan, but with Nie Huaisang sprawled over his books and Wei Wuxian practically in Lan Wangji’s lap, it was the only safe place for them.

Nie Huaisang sat back, looking at Jiang Cheng over his fan. “What?” He snapped.

“Softie,” Nie Huaisang said softly, and Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes.

“He needs to learn, and Luo Qingyang is the only one at Jinlintai right now that I trust,” he muttered.

Wei Ying squinted at Jiang Cheng, as if trying to figure something out, but when Jin Zixuan and Luo Qingyang appeared, he blinked at her, surprised, and perked up in recognition. “Mianmian!”

Which, of course, was the wrong thing to say. Jin Zixuan puffed up, and Lan Wangji hissed a pained Wei Ying, and Nie Huaisang was being no help. So, Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes again and translated.

“No offense meant, Lady Luo,” he said. “My brother’s memory for names is notoriously bad, but he means no disrespect by his over familiarity.”

Thankfully Luo Qingyang smiled. “No offence taken, Young Master Jiang. If your offer is genuine, and we are to be friends, then you may call me Mianmian.”

Jaing Cheng smiled. “Then please join us, Mianmian. I am Jiang Cheng.”

That caused everyone to look at him, and he glared. “What?! I have manners.”

“Jiang-xiong is quite a gentleman,” Nie Huaisang agreed, mildly, and Jiang Cheng narrowed his eyes. That tone always meant mischief.

“And you’re a pain in my—”

“No excess talking in the library,” Lan Wangji interrupted, staring placidly back when Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng both glared at him. Well, Jiang Cheng glared. Nie Huaisang pouted.

After a moment, Jin Zixuan grunted softly, as if someone had elbowed him in his ribs. He cleared his throat. “What are you working on?” he asked woodenly, as if speaking from a poorly rehearsed script. Out of the corner of his eye, Jiang Cheng saw Mianmian nod encouragingly.

“We’re trying to help Nie-xiong pass the next exam,” Wei Wuxian offered.

“Who’s we?” Jiang Cheng muttered, flipping his book open once more. “Unless sitting in Lan Wangji’s lap is a new study method.”

Nie Huaisang giggled behind his fan as Wei Wuxian squawked, reaching out to smack Jiang Cheng’s shoulder, only to be hauled back with apparent ease by Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji who, arms wrapped securely around Wei Wuxian, stared square at Jiang Cheng and said. “It is an advanced technique.”

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian protested, going pink in the face, and Nie Huaisang’s giggles turned to outright laughter.

Jin Zixuan leaned into to Jiang Cheng. “Is it always like this?”

Jiang Cheng shrugged. “Pretty much. Those two decided shame was for other people a long time ago.”

“I...have questions,” Jin Zixuan said.

Jiang Cheng turned and looked at him. “You know, so do I. But mine might involve yelling, so the library probably isn’t the best place for them.”

(It takes a while to build up to the conversation, a few weeks until Jin Zixuan is comfortable enough to sit with them without Mianmian as a social buffer. He’s still insufferable, but more and more Jiang Cheng sees the kid he remembers from childhood visits, and even shades of the proud yet just man that he almost had a chance to fully grow into being.)

Meanwhile, something is shifting between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, the simmering tension between them boiling over, and Jiang Cheng is both sure that they’ve actively started fucking and and sure that he wants *absolutely nothing to do with it.* He does not want to hear it, see it, smell it — which makes it difficult when Wei Wuxian proves that he has no filter, and Lan Wangji proves he has no shame.

What had actually happened was Lan Xichen had approached Lan Wangji and said that he was glad LWJ was making friends, and hey, haven’t you been spending an awful lot of time with that Wei Wuxian kid? Don’t worry, little brother, I’ll keep Uncle off your back.” LWJ was unsure if Xichen knew that LWJ and WWX were together, but was unsure how to clarify. Every time he tried, LXC seemed to double down on his interpretation of their relationship as being the same as his with NMJ (and while NMJ thought LXC was pretty, he was more interested in Xichen’s swordplay than his *swordplay*) - and LWJ decided that the best course of action was to kiss Wei Wuxian as much as possible as often as possible.

For the record, Lan Xichen was well aware of his little brother’s inclinations, and was quite enjoying his own spot of harmless rebellion by encouraging Wangji’s shamelessness. Besides, Wei Wuxian was a good match for Wangji, and it was a relief to see Wangji smiling. Perhaps it was time to begin drafting some marital paperwork. It wouldn’t do to be caught unprepared, afterall.

He hoped they married in the spring. He always loved a spring wedding...

Somewhere, Jiang Cheng felt a chill.

NEXT TIME - THE RETURN OF THE MAIN PLOT

[appleb0mb]

Cardenalia: Lyric Analysis!

To all those theorists who want confirmation, here you go! Note that this is unedited. Long post below!

Verse One:

Silk laced with poison – ‘poison’ is in reference to Pomefiore’s chapter and the Evil Queen, when she poisoned Snow White.

The apple falling from the tree – The apple in this case is a second reference to Pomefiore, or more specifically Epel. 1Since apples only fall when they’re either fully grown or decayed, this is in reference to Epel leaving his hometown, entering a new environment – specifically Pomefiore.

It can also imply how 2Vil is raising Epel to be of a higher standard of beauty.

The wheel of fortune – 1In eastern cultures, there is a spiritual rebirth known as ‘reincarnation’ – or in this case, the cycle (also reference to the term ‘Lottery of Life’).

The Wheel of Fortune is based on people being separated and sorted into groups of status or wealth as they are born. Some humans believe that this is permanent till the day you die or be ‘reborn’ once again.

Has not been kind to me – (The following is more focused on the term ‘Lottery of Life’).

1Jamil believes that he has been deemed ‘unlucky’ and feels that he has lost the wheel of life from the moment he was born. As a result, this affects parts of his life such as his wealth, his family, his job, his wishes and desires, as well as his environment.

All these hands are crawling on me, crawling on me – The following is mainly based on Canon Jamil.

1This is in reference to when the members of Scarabia are constantly bombarding him with tasks and jobs. Jamil is tired of the huge, overwhelming responsibility carried on his shoulders as Vice Dorm leader. He internally feels mentally drained and in distress about it.

2This can include TWSTxDAL Jamil as well, since his power is reliant on Kalim’s power – which involves helping the people and environment around him. Without Jamil, Kalim’s power will be imbalanced and spiral out of control (he may even overblot because of that).

3Thanks to that, he feels like he is pressured and forced to comply with Kalim’s desires – without gaining anything satisfying or desirable from Kalim in the process.

4This can also be applied to Canon Jamil as well!

Time seems slow when I am struggling, I am struggling – 1Jamil feels like his pain of being in an everlasting bond with Kalim is filled with never-ending suffering. Additionally, he feels like his happiness and joy are short and brief – while his suffering lasts much longer and slower.

2This can also be in reference to Canon Jamil, in terms of him serving Kalim.

Desperate, I try to reach out to your hand – 1Jamil is reaching out constantly, begging for a way out of this suffering of feeling below or inferior to Kalim. In this line, he is hanging on to the last remains of hope that Kalim will realize of the eternal bond they are in.  

2This can also be in reference to Canon Jamil, hoping that Kalim is aware of the dark side of him being a slave to Kalim.

What is with that smile? – This is in reference to Kalim’s bright and cherry innocence. As a result, when Kalim smiles to Jamil – Jamil is deeply hurt, frustrated and irritated - comprehending that Kalim still is naïve and unaware of the ongoing situation between the two of them.

2This can also be in reference to Canon Jamil.

Chorus:

Keep on singing, Cardenalia – 1Jamil is mocking Kalim and his actions, pretending to be supportive of Kalim and continue to be on his side. Instead, this implies Jamil manipulating and controlling Kalim to achieve his goal of freedom.

This is also referencing of Kalim’s innocence – of Kalim himself being stuck in his own ‘bubble’.

2This is in reference to Canon Jamil as well.

Keep on dancing, dancing backwards – 1In a way, Jamil is telling him to continue to act stupid/dumb of the bond they share. This in relation to Jamil being manipulative and mocking Kalim.

2Can also be in reference to Canon Jamil.

In my womb – 1In a mother’s womb – the baby I given the nutrients needed to grow as well as protection; while risking the mother’s life as a result. This can be applied to Jamil, but instead without nurturing and emotionally caring for Kalim as an individual.

2Additionally, this can be an insult to Kalim being naïve and useless – since a baby can only grow and cannot carry responsibilities or help themselves.

3Thirdly, this is in reference to Kalim being stuck in Jamil’s ‘trap’ or ‘bubble’, where he controls or monitors Kalim’s actions like a doll. In other words, Kalim is the puppet while Jamil is the puppeteer/mastermind.

4This can be taken as reference to Canon Jamil as well.

(I hate you) – This is towards Kalim, and in secret. That is why the brackets are applied.

Verse Two:

Same room, same time – 1This is based on when Yuu (You), Grim and Octavinelle were present with Scarabia (Canon Jamil).

2This can also be based on the TWSTxDAL story, when Yuu, Grim (somehow…?) and Octavinelle met Jamil and Kalim for the first time. In this case, the ‘room’ would be more so a ‘hideout’.

My eyes are dyed with jealousy – This is rather vague (since this can be interpreted in many ways). I will try to consider all the possibilities.

1Jamil is jealous of Azul – The fact that Azul is able to free and able to express his desires or ulterior motives without hesitation or restraint.

2Jamil is jealous of Kalim – This can be carried canonically or not.

Canon Version: Kalim allows Octavinelle into the Scarabia dorm, even though Jamil is against it. He despises how Kalim can be so carefree without carefully thinking of his actions – since Octavinelle is known for being mischievous and duplicitous.

TWSTxDAL version: The same is applied to here, but Jamil is unfamiliar with Octavinelle and Yuu (or is he?) since he meets you five in person as a group.

Kalim is a lot more open to visitors (since he barely receives none), and is annoyed and envious of how Kalim is ignorant of the dangers and risks of his new and unacquainted guests.

3Jamil is jealous of Kalim (2) – In general, Jamil is jealous of Kalim of winning the ‘Lottery of Life’ so easily without hard-work or dedication. He is given everything on a golden platter, without Kalim questioning the circumstances or the origin of the reward.

This can be applied to TWSTxDAL Jamil, except Kalim can use his powers by barely suffering in the process compared to Jamil. Though, it usually depends on who uses their power more (which is usually Kalim).

“Please stop” you ask me – ‘You’ can be the following:

1Yuu/You – Yuu is usually in charge of helping dorms and their Overblots. Indirectly, you are telling Jamil to stop accomplishing any sinister plans ahead of time.

2Kalim – This is based on when Kalim is under the Unique Magic ‘Snake Whisper’. Even though he doesn’t recognize he’s under hypnosis, I believe he would’ve reacted this way instead.

3Himself – Jamil has a sense of fear and worry that he’ll be found out, isolated, or no longer considered to be a friend or kind person to Kalim. This can be applied canonically to his dorm members as well.

Note that the context of ‘Himself’ can only be implemented as a one-liner, not with the line ‘To cease the puppetry’.

To cease the puppetry – This can apply to the following:

1Yuu/You – Yuu is telling him indirectly to stop controlling Kalim.

2Kalim – Kalim is telling Jamil to stop controlling him. Though, he is not saying ‘stop’ not for himself but for Jamil and the other members of his dorm. He doesn’t want Jamil to be hurt or affected in the process, even though Kalim himself is being hurt in the process.

In short terms, Kalim is being selfless.

This can be applied to TWSTxDAL, but he would give up his life for Jamil if it meant saving him (even though this is technically not possible). In this case, he is telling him to stop so he can keep the friendship of Yuu, Grim and the other spirits.

Other Spirits – Heartslaybul, Savanaclaw, and Octavinelle.

3Himself & Other – Note that this is an abstract interpretation canonically. This may be applied in the TWSTxDAL AU.

However, instead of Jamil this can be applied to his Overblot toying with him or fate, destiny, or a 3rd party playing with him like checkers. 4He feels that he is being used in a bigger plan for an unknown motive.

Now my cup is running over, running over – 1The cup is a representation of his luck and success. 2This is a sign of greed, dictatorship and overindulgence. 3In a way, this can be interpreted as him ‘winning’ the ‘Lottery of Life’/gaining control over the situation at hand. This can be interpreted as canonically or not.

You beg with – This can applied to Yuu/You, or Kalim.

Unceasing mercy, unceasing mercy – In reference to him going along with his plans ruthlessly.

Desperate, you try and cling unto my arms saying, - 1In a way, this is reference to the verse, “Desperate, I try to reach out to your hand”. This is ironic since Jamil was crying for help, but now he is the one being cried to.

‘You’ can only be applied to Kalim.

“End my suffering” – 1This is Kalim begging for Jamil to stop. 2However, the term ‘suffering’ is in reference to hurting the friendship of Yuu, Grim and the other Spirits. But canonically, he wants him to stop wounding the friendship of everyone (Yuu, Grim and Octavinelle) and the Scarabia dorm members.

Bridge:

The following lines are only in relation to Jamil himself speaking to everyone, but more specifically to Kalim.

| - to differentiate that the verses are separated lyrically.

Hate me – 1He wants Kalim to stop caring for him, since he is hurt thanks to Kalim’s kindness. If Kalim did not care for him so much, he wouldn’t have been betrayed him in the first place.

Kill me – 1Canonically, he knows that if he betrays his master/Kalim, he might be put to death. But he doesn’t care of the consequences – even if his freedom will be death.

Despise me – The same applies to the verse “Hate me”.

You shatter me – 1This is in reference to Kalim breaking his spirit, his hopes and desires. Moreso, Kalim ‘broke’ his ability to be who he wants to be as an individual.

Breaking | Slowly – 1This is when Kalim is ‘breaking’ his patience, his individuality/character, and desires. This can also be in terms of friendship as well.

How could you do this to me? – Jamil is questioning Kalim in this case.

The following lines are only in relation to Kalim responding to Jamil.

Time won’t | Heal all the wounds | I made in you – 1Kalim knows that these ‘wounds’ in these friendships can’t heal the mistakes he made in Jamil.

But let us | Live, learn, grow, and love – 1Kalim still wants them to understand each other’s feelings and restore his friendship, including everyone as well. He wants Jamil to continue living (for himself) and loving each other as best friends.

Everyone (Canonically) – Yuu, Grim, Octavinelle, and the Scarabia dorm members.

Everyone (TWSTxDAL) – Yuu, Grim, and Heartslaybul – Octavinelle.

Chorus:

Let us dance, Cardenalia | Let us dance, dance together – 1This is Jamil speaking to Kalim that he wants to dance with him. 2This is a sign of Jamil letting go of his anger and frustration, and turning his joy and happiness into dancing.

To the ends of hope, love, and despair – 1Jamil is stating that in good times and bad times, he will be there for Kalim in return; 2thanks to the promise that Kalim made (“Time won’t heal the wounds I made in you, but let us live, learn, grow, and love”).

Let us fall, Cardenalia | Let us fall, fall together – 1The fall is in reference of them descending either in reputation or ‘falling’ to their deaths.

2In the TWSTxDAL AU, Jamil knows that if one of them dies, the other will die as well.

Note that the word ‘reputation’ in the following paragraph only applies only to Canon Jamil.

Even if | Our hatred is our despair – 1Even if he hates him, he knows that he still cares for Kalim. 2Therefore Jamil states that even in bad times, he will be there in death. No emotion will separate them from the bond that they share.

[galvanizedfriend]

Klaroline Fic Rec - Day Six

Klaroline Fic Rec Event 2020 - Day 6: Supernatural!AU Title: As One Wishes to Live Author: @lalainajanes Summary:   Caroline was just trying to clean the ugly gold thing Kat pawned off one her, in the hopes that it would be slightly less heinous afterwards. Then there's blue smoke, and a naked man in her living room calling her 'Mistress.'  - AKA Genie!Klaus Status: Complete

Why you should read it:

I had never in my life read a genie!AU, and simply could not wrap my mind around anything of the sort that wouldn't be extreme crack!fic. Imagine my surprise upon reading this story.

There's a part one, which you can read here, but it's really the sequel that gets me every. single. time. This story is bittersweet in the best possible way. At the same time it's endearing and adorable (and so very IC) to watch Caroline fumbling for a fair and non-insane way to handle Klaus, the genie Katherine accidentally gifted her with (and who just happens to look incredibly alluring), it's so very poignant to read Klaus' POV. He's Klaus in the way that he's suspicious and dismissive and kind of snobbish, really, but he's resigned to his fate. This is a Klaus who has been broken by years of enslavement as this prop who's there exclusively to serve others. Every time he mentions one of his past masters, you just get that stab - and so does Caroline.

All the while he's analyzing Caroline, trying to decide whether to trust her or not, thinking that she's just as duplicitous as every other seemingly nice master he's had before. Just waiting for the moment when it'll sink into her that she has a genie to answer to her every whim and will start taking advantage of it. Klaus simply expects the worst. And then Caroline goes and does the one unthinkable thing. And the way Klaus is in that moment... My heart! ❤️

This story is beautiful and poignant and adorable in the most unexpected of ways, and it stayed with me since the very first time I read it. @lalainajanes' writing is gorgeous and so fluid, so easy to read, and it gets you right in the feels. It's the way that she manages to infuse Klaus' simple, idle thinking with so much subdued emotion that makes this pack such a powerful punch.

I never thought I'd love a genie!AU, but this one has totally owned my heart. If you haven't read this yet (and the prequel), please, do yourself a favor and read it now! You're welcome.

[altered-aegis-archived]

Kohaku’s Verses 1

SAINT SEIYA THE LOST CANVAS AU / SPECTER VERSE

 BASIC INFORMATION REAL NAME Kohaku Otomugi SPECTER'S TITLE Terrestrial Malignant Star, Peryton Kohaku OCCUPATION Scholar / Specter (Afterlife) AGE 17 HEIGHT 170 Cm BORN 24 August SOCIAL CLASS Noble / Specter (Afterlife) YEAR 17th Century NATIONALITY Japan FACECLAIM Ishikirimaru

SUMMARY In the Afterlife, Kohaku was serving Hades the King of Underworld while donning a surplice that resembles mythical creature Peryton. His black mirrored feathers are detachables and can perform various technique. One of it's main ability is to look into someone's past and connections with others. Peryton's wings also detachable at Kohaku's own will and can be a dangerous weapon with convenient wide-distant range capacity.

BACKSTORY The sixth son of the feudal lord in the northern imperial of Kyoto and raised by a single father. He believed in filial piety ideal while he himself was very discipline and delegate his administrative tasks in Imperial Court. His achievement in career was envied by his other six siblings and they ended up mistreated him throughout the remaining years he lived yet Kohaku did not bear any ill will against them and continue to treat them with respect while continue to strive for family's honor.

During one of the Imperial conquest, Kohaku was stationed in a camp together with his oldest brother who were also Samurai warrior under the Imperial order. Kohaku had already deviced a strategy and pleaded to his brother to follow the plan but his brother refused and stormed to the battlefield by himself. Seeing lack reinforcement in the garrison, Kohaku decided to protect the garrison by himself. Kohaku lasted for three days fighting with no supplies, but using his own intellect and skills to hold the garrison. It forces the enemy to retreat few times until the Samurai troops ambushed him from all directions. His brother and his father was caught along. His father was executed but his brother gained the favor of the enemy’s feudal lord and was released on condition that he sided with them. Leaving Kohaku the only remaining prisoner.

Few days before Kohaku can decide his own fate, his brother told the feudal lord about northern villagers are showing demonstration for government didn’t showed up to help after they suffered natural disasters, so the villagers asked for a sacrifice for God’s offering. The feudal lord agreed and ordered his brother to send one of the prisoner to the village to be sacrificed just for a gimmick. His brother used this as an advantage to get rid of Kohaku instead. Kohaku was blinded, knocked and beaten to death for the sake of the ceremony.

RISING AS SPECTER In the Underworld, Thanatos; God of Death and also advisor to Lord Hades have sought potential on Kohaku to serve under Hades for the upcoming Holy War against Goddess Athena. He then prompted Kohaku with a surplice (Underworld's armor) that resembled mythical Peryton creature and asked him on his opinion if he ever have the power to kill. Kohaku was not fond of answering the question and pleaded to Thanatos to end him completely. Thanatos then insisted by sending him back to the world of living so Kohaku can see the ugly truth behind his uncalled death few days ago. As he reached for the living world realm, Kohaku was already donning the Underworld surplice since Thanatos was eager to observe his progress later on.

Kohaku landed back on the ground, spotted the villagers that killed him now holding up a festival by escorting his older brother's troop as they come to the village with tons of aid supplies. The surplices wing then reflected the past and the truth of his older brother. Kohaku then heard how his brother belittled him in one of the conversation with his guards and claiming the sacrifice was not for any God and it was nothing but only a gimmick. He only wanted to get rid of Kohaku so the feudal lord won't have any second thoughths of wanting to hire him as the army strategist. Should he hire him, his brother will be falling out of favor and he wanted to stop that from happening. Learning the entire truth, Kohaku then suffered from agony.

He fled and hid himself inside the forest in hope for not learning any ugly truth involving him anymore. However, the Surplice wings later whispered the past of Imperial family that he served before. hesitantly, Kohaku pulled one of the mirrored black feather and take a look at the Imperial's past. He suffered the sight when he learnt his mother was brutally 'silenced' by the Imperial family for holding royal's dark secret. At that time, Kohaku was only few months old. The past that he had witnessed from the mirrored feather further enraged him.

Afterward, Kohaku approached the village and destroyed it within a short amount of time. His older brother begged to not be killed by him and promised to offer him fortunes if it pleases him, but Kohaku killed his brother without mercy. Kohaku didn’t end it there. He massacred the rest of his siblings and even killed the Imperial Court’s family, before putting the head of the royals in front of the castle’s gate for public shows to stir up fear and panic. As soon disorders spreads more through the land, he returned back to the Underworld with no sign of remorse.

Kohaku rose as a Specter to serve Hades. He donned a Peryton’s surplice and bestowed the title of Terrestrial Malignant Star. (The title is originated from one of 72 Earthly Fiends in Water Margin, Huang Xin.)

SPECTER’S HEADCANON

PERSONALITY

When Kohaku joined the Underworld, his darker personality also emerged. He has learnt ways to be more manipulative, cunning, pragmatic, and controlling. This also means Peryton Kohaku still have one of his human trait (intelligence) inside him but became less empathy towards another. Kohaku shows no feelings even towards his Underworld comrade when they appeared to be harmed, proving that he has since disregard his empathy trait when he joined Hades. His intelligence makes him able to rely on a rather duplicitous talent to successfully manipulated few of living humans in order to complete Hades's conquest against Athena. This dark trait of him also even makes it difficult for enemies to decipher his movement.

ART OF WAR

||SHADOW|| Peryton’s wings can generate the shadow of his victim. It can create exact copies of a person and let the victim duel with their own shadow or someone else’s that they familiar with.

||AEGIS & CAMOUFLAGE|| Using the wings to create barrier to either defend from the enemy’s assault or to trap enemy inside by closing the wall. While shielding, it is also useful as an invisible camouflage.

||DISTORT REALITY|| His wings can change environment and reality in any way Kohaku wanted.

||DANCING WINGS|| He can make the mirrored feathers glides through the midair at certain speed to rumble the ground, decreasing enemy's morale. While if it’s not attached to the back, the wings will act as flying knives to search, trap and kill enemies.

||THOUSAND KNIVES|| A method of deploying surreal image of his feather to trick the enemy that was formed by his cosmos before deploying the real feathers to attack. However if the enemy did not dodge this, they would have received injuries as well as it was a projected dark cosmos in a small amount that could be harmful for the living.

||BASIC MARTIAL ART SKILLS|| His own physical defense and strength is quite impressive considering he was also affiliated to military during his human year.

WEAKNESS

||NECK AND LOWER BACK|| It’s the most vulnerable spot as neck was not covered by surplice and lower back area was not properly guarded due to the extensions of mirrored wings that doesn’t allow him to be more flexible.

||MIRROR|| Kohaku avoid looking at himself through reflections even through his wings. He stopped looking or looked away from the mirror ever since he served Hades. He was subconsciously realizing he was not the one he used to be. With unstable mind, Kohaku could be very self-disruptive and this could led to enemy's advantage on winning the battle if they are quick to defeat him.

PERYTON SURPLICES AND AFFILIATED MYTHOLOGY

||SURPLICES|| The armor (Surplices) that Kohaku wear was made of from Underworld. It is type of armor worn by 108 Specters that serves under Hades. They were made from Underworld's minerals and wearing it would allow Specters to travel to the Underworld without having to burn their cosmos. Each Surplices name are derived from beastly creatures from literally works and also from mythologies.

||PERYTON|| According to the mythology, the Peryton beast is said to have the head, neck, forelegs and antlers of a stag, combined with the plumage, wings and hindquarters of a large bird, although some interpretations portray the Peryton as a deer in all but coloration and bird’s wings. Perytons lived in Atlantis until an earthquake destroyed the civilization and the creatures escaped by flight. A Peryton casts the shadow of a man until it kills one during its lifetime, at which time it starts to cast its own shadow. In the folklore, Perytons also was responsible for the the downfall of Rome. Peryton’s natural predators were the mythical bird Griffons. Like the myth repeating it’s own story, Specter Peryton Kohaku was responsible for the destructions of a faction that lives in Romania’s region.

OTHER HEADCANONS

||ROMANCE|| Kohaku is attracted to both gender. He is bisexual in nature and as long he was given time to grow emotionally and he could see the effort of his partner in building the relationship together with him, he would give all of him back.

||STRENGTH|| Although Kohaku was positioned in lowest rank in the army by having the title "Terrestrial", this does not define his strength in the battlefield. An enemy should not look down upon his rank when it comes to fighting with him.

||MANNERS|| While becoming a Specter, Kohaku still have elegant and noble-like attitude that he have since he was raised along with it.

[duplicitousfate]

And then Leshy became the official book keeper for the Cults bets.

(art by @dashing-through-ecto )

[imagineclaireandjamie]

will there be more of the external forces au?

Mod Note: Hi @internallydeceased I honestly don’t know if there is. I feel like that one sort of reached a natural end. I will certainly keep an open mind though, as the whether I extend it - although I do have a lot of other open ones to contend with too - but here, have another Chain of Command chapter and I hope that this helps a little: much love, Mod MBD. 

Chain of Command: Part Three:

With her escape attempt foiled, Claire’s mind had turned to more desperate measures. Once the Fraser’s knew about the baby she’d either be forced to give it up - or be sent away completely. She’d heard of it before and even though Ellen and Brian were kind, generous people, Claire didn’t think they’d be all too pleased at her’s and Jamie’s trysts.

Scrubbing at the dishware extra hard, she scoured the dirt from the large breakfast from the plates as she contemplated her options.

Being good at healing she had some less than reputable sources and though she’d never been embroiled in any of their less than legal activities, a horrid thought sprung to mind as she debated how much easier it would be was she not pregnant.

Mama Crook had scheduled a trip into Inverness within the week, this gave Claire ample time to get together some sort of plan.

--

As the pair, adoptive mother and daughter, rode in companionable silence, Claire’s mind warred with her heart.

Jamie had found her only moments before they were due to leave. Trapping her in a solitary corner, he had kissed her into oblivion, causing all thoughts to fall from her head as his hands circled her waist.

*She should have told him* she argued with herself, he *should* know. But in the end she hadn’t. He’d made her promise that she’d keep herself safe on the long journey south, and she’d nodded silently - unable to fully commit to the promise.

Her hands were shaking on the reins as the scenery of the highlands passed them by. Soon the hum of the city began to drift through the hills as the land flattened a little.

Nearly there…

She whispered to herself as riders on the road became more prevalent. The sounds of their muffled conversations soothed her a little and she started to pay more attention to Mama Crooks’ instructions.

They would first get settled at the inn, then they would separate and each go off in search of their own respective items. Claire had spoken of seeking out some new herbs. She’d run out of valerian root and she knew how popular that could be with some of the inhabitants of Broch Tuarach. Then, if she were caught in the company of her less reputable friends, Mrs Crook wouldn’t question why.

Claire had always been a good girl, she’d obeyed instructions, learned well and been adept at following the rules as requested. This was the first time that she’d been actively duplicitous.

As if to remind her of her awful decision, the tiniest flutter of butterflies tingled in her stomach. Her little visitor was making herself known more frequently these days and Claire couldn't deny the bond that had built between her and the bairn.

Shaking her head, she dismounted the pony and handed her over to the stable hand The more she thought about the baby, the more the idea of ridding herself of the burden of her (or him) became impossible to go through with.

‘Did ye hear me, Claire?” Mama Crook chirped, seeing that Claire was in fact away with the fairies.

“No, sorry mama, what was that?”

“Ye need to be back here for supper, aye? I dinna want you wandering these streets on yer own once the sun has set. Do ye understand?”

Claire nodded. Mama Crook worried for her, and the older she got - the more she worried, it seemed. Claire had wrongly assumed it would go the other way. But with Claire still seemingly alone with no marital prospects, Mrs Crook had quietly become concerned. Not many men would pass up the opportunity to wed Claire, she was a fine young woman with a bright future. Claire, however seemed to pay little attention to the opposite sex which in itself was concerning. She also didn’t see the danger in spurning their advances.

“I promise, mama,” she whispered, kissing Mrs Crook’s cheek in familial affection as she turned and disappeared off into the bustling crowds of Inverness.

--

It only took Claire a few moments to track Geillis Duncan down. Gellie was the subject of many a rumour, but her marriage to a high-borne litigator made her untouchable. She was a suspected witch and known abortionist.

Claire’s heart was pounding as she followed her friend through the large lounge area of her home and up into her private suites.

“And what news do ye have, Claire?” Gellie crooned, her eyes surveying Claire as if she were prey. Geillis knew. Claire could tell by the glint in her eye.

Claire swallowed. She shouldn’t have to say the words, but she knew Geillis well enough that the woman wasn’t going to let her off easily.

“I need your help, Gellie, on a *private* matter…” Claire returned, her voice cracking slightly as she spoke.

Tipping her head to the side, Geillis squinted, a wry smile appearing on her face. “Aye, go on then. Dinna make me wait to hear it.”

“I made a mistake, a rather large one,” Claire began, sweat gathering on her palms as she shifted her feet against the crude wooden floorboards. “If I don’t...if I can’t see it finished, I’ll lose everything.”

‘Are ye sure?” Geillis replied, a slight hint of worry in her tone. “There are no other options other than this?”

“N-no..at least I don't think so.” The slight indecision showed in her response and Geillis took the chance to verbally warn Claire of the dangers.

“I have a lassie to see me in a moment, maybe you should attend - help me a wee bit - and then ye can see for yerself the dangers of it.” Reaching out, Gellie took hold of Claire’s tepid hand and rubbed the back of it slowly in solid camaraderie. “You’re my only friend, Claire. I want to see ye safe, aye?”

Nodding, Claire slumped into the high backed chair by the fire, something akin to relief flooding her bones as she silently agreed to Geillis’s proposal. “Alright, what do I need to do?”

“No’ much. Just pass me the tools as I ask for them and dinna make a sound.”

--

Somber silence filled the room as only the sound of the ticking clock echoed around them. Claire did as she was bid, watching as the sun began to set behind her. She was going to be so late, meaning Mama Crook would be angry at her. But she couldn’t walk away now - she was in too deep.

The poor young lass who’d come seeking Geillis’s services was shivering, flat on her back with her legs parted, she’d told Claire and Gellie the sad tale of the rich captains who’d ridden inland from port on a small detour. One in particular had wooed her with false promises, taking her to bed and then fleeing for the hills once he’d realised his error. Left alone with the prospect of raising an illegitimate child, the woman had sought instead to rid herself of the baby. As much to protect it from a life of poverty and servitude as to protect her own shaky reputation.

It was just as Geillis was about to make the first incision that a large banging rattled the door. Pounding, the guards broke the lock and plowed their way in - not waiting for an invitation.

Claire gapped at the men, dressed head to toe in the very recognisable British army uniform. Dropping the knife she held in one hand, she took one measured step backwards, raising her hands in submission as the leader of the group marched forwards.

“Halt! I am under orders,” he barked, his eyes cold and hard as they focused on Claire. He grabbed at her arms, tugged her towards him without stopping to ask the meaning of their gathering. “I am here to stop these unlawful activities. Geillis Duncan, you are hereby charged…”

“She,” Geillis piped up, her tone harsh and unyielding, “is no’ Geillis Duncan, you wee fool! I am!”

The officer kept hold of Claire, dragging her across the floor until he reached Geillis.

One nod and his men had her arms pulled tightly behind her back. Claire cried out, pain ripping through her left arm as the unnamed Englishman thrust her forwards. “Well,” he sneered, his fingers tightening on Claire’s wrist as he brought her almost nose to nose with him. Claire balked. “It is of no matter, you are in the presence of this foul deed, and so you will be coming with us also.”

Losing the will to fight it, Claire stumbled forwards as the officer dragged her through the lounge and out into the dull Inverness street. Tying her hands in front of her, he made a solid knot between her wrists, ensuring that the rough rope rubbed against her fragile skin.

“I n-need to tell mama, she’ll be cross,” Claire managed to cry out as she was unceremoniously dumped into the back of a heavily guarded prison wagon, “please, have mercy!”

“Ha!” A taller gentleman of larger build stepped forwards as the door slammed shut in her face, “mercy? Like you would have had on that poor child! No, mistress. Take them away!”

--

Sliding her arms around her knees, Claire sat on the small prison cot and wept. Surely Mama Crook would have discovered her fate by now. And if she had, Claire knew she was in big bother. She shouldn’t have accepted Geillis’s invitation in the first place. She knew her friend had enough of a sway with the courts that she’d probably get her convictions dismissed as soon as they were levelled at her. Claire, however, had no such pull.

As the night drew on, the babe seemed to nudge at her insides, a constant reminder of Jamie.

Christ, Jamie. What would he do once he got wind of this?

She had, of course, protested her innocence. Claire had claimed Gellie simply provided her with medicinal herbs and she had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. It had all been pointless, though. Her protests had gone unheeded and she’d been left in this cold, dank, cell to await her fate.

Claire was certain that she could hear the telltale creak of the noose as she rocked back and forwards, the cold seeping slowing through her clothes as dawn began to break outside.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have even gone there…” she murmured, her words becoming fainter and fainter as night paved way for day and the sun peaked high in the sky. “I’m so sorry.”

--

It was the rattle of the door that brought her out of her self-loathing.

“Alright, lass,” the Scots guard called, his voice a friendly break in the quiet monotony, “your master has spoken for ye. It seems yer right, and you are free to go...this time.” His voice broke on the last word, his meaning altogether too clear. Be caught in the wrong place again and her freedom wouldn’t be so easy to obtain.

“Thank you,” Claire stuttered as she crawled to stand, her joints aching from sitting still for so long. Her stomach growled as she slunk towards the exit, worried about what she was about to face but hungry nevertheless. It had been hours since she’d last eaten and the bairn didn’t much appreciate being starved, no matter how small she was.

Outside, Brian Fraser waited with Mama Crook by his side, a disappointed look covering his weatherbeaten face.

Claire’s head dipped as she saw them waiting for her, an embarrassed blush covering her face as she rubbed her sore wrists.

“Come, Claire,” Brian ordered, leaving no room for discussion or argument as he wrapped his arm around Claire’s shoulders and led her from the dingy jail.

The ride home was wet and miserable. Neither Brian or Mama Crook spoke to Claire, not to voice their displeasure at finding her locked away by the redcoats or to ask if she was recovering well from her ordeal. Feeling the tension, she kept her thoughts to herself, leaving the matter of her incarceration to fester as they finally broke through the Fraser borders.

Just before reaching the rise that would bring them down upon Lallybroch, though, Brian stopped the party. With one hand raised, Claire pulled her horse to halt and waited with baited breath.

“Nobody down there knows what I’ve just been privy too, Claire,” he spoke, his voice low and serious. “Mrs Crook and I shall keep it that way. But I don’t *ever* want to hear of ye in the presence of that woman ever again. Do you hear me?”

Claire’s stomach dropped, bile rising up the back of her throat as she bit back the urge to vomit rather than respond to Brian’s kind gesture.

Instead she nodded - avoiding losing the small breadcrumbs Mama Crook had fed to her on the road.

“I ken ye mean well, lass. She gave ye good advice and until now, she has been a good teacher for you. Your healing is incredible and she’s certainly helped ye a lot wi’ that. But to be caught witnessing an *abortion*, Claire,”

Claire’s eyes filled with tears, the moisture spilling over and down her cheeks as her chin wobbled. She wanted to sob, but held herself back. Brian truly had believed her. He hadn’t thought she had gone for any reason other than to gather more herbs and the realisation of that sunk straight to the marrow of her.

“That’s a sin. A mortal one. And Geillis Duncan shouldna be partaking in such an act.”

“I didn't know, I promise,” Claire lied, her need to protect the relationship built between her and Brian overruling her need to be honest in that moment.

“I ken, Claire,” he sighed, his eyes not wavering from hers as he gazed sadly at her. “But she canna be yer friend any longer. Am I clear?”

“Yes,” Claire whispered, licking her dry lips as she dipped her chin and dragged in a large breath.

Grunting, Brian nodded and turned, ushering his horse onwards and Claire followed studiously behind.

--

Locking herself in her room, Claire flopped onto her small bed, fear sweeping through her now as the reality of her evening hit home hard. Brian was true to his word. He hadn’t told Ellen, Jamie or Jenny the reason for his hasty departure to Inverness, only that Mrs Crook and Claire had needed him to settle business on an urgent matter.

Cradling her belly, Claire shushed the rumbling, her heart lightening at the prospect of her inability to complete on her original mission. Whatever was to come, this child was apart of it and Claire now had to accept that inevitable truth.

Staring at the shelves full of books, Claire pulled the thin sheet over her, not bothering to remove her skirts as a sickening shudder rolled through her.

She had come *so close* to doing something horrific and the sudden shock of that irrational decision chiseled at her soul.

Close, but she’d been stopped. Closing her eyes, Claire rubbed her abdomen lovingly. “You’re mine now,” she sighed, the slow thud of her heart lulling her to sleep, “mine and I won’t let you go.”

[duplicitousfate]

I'm a little late on the recent bunny trent, but for your patience y'all get two lambs for the price of one. We call that The Fate Special ™

(A little speed paint under the cut)

[duplicitousfate]

What if they didn't miscommunicate and project trauma onto each other. What if we get to have nice things.

(Art by @dashing-through-ecto )

[duplicitousfate]

Toast: I was inspired by @aychama 's marathon animation stream and started on Lambari swinging their hips. I have not slept. It is almost 5am :)

(Art by @dashing-through-ecto )

[duplicitousfate]

Red crown just can't catch a break, no matter which Lamb it stays with.

(Art by @dashing-through-ecto )