#like that poor child said wished she did not get first rank....i hope you all genuinely suffer | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

myrulia · 3 years ago

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Im a lil shy to ask in my og account so i will do it in anon! Can u do prompt 19? ( i hope im not breaking any of your rules!) your writing is delightful! 💖❤️ lots of love for u!

.｡.:*✧Prompt 19: "Are you falling in love? I have a feeling you are."

.｡.:*✧Warnings: Reverse hashira au, mentions of decapitation

╰╴⇢｡.:*✧A/N: I honestly had lots of fun with this so thank you! You deserve love as well!💜

`` The meeting shall now commence. ``

Muzan Kibutsuji, the leader of the Demon Slayer corpse, announced to the 9 hashira before him. They all kneeled in his presence out of pure respect, their heads hanging low but high enough to the point of seeing him.

`` Today we will discuss an important matter regarding our Moon pillar, `` said the male with such gentleness in his tone.

His words did cause them to raise their heads in confusion, knowing that the Moon pillar, or better known as Michikatsu Tsugikuni, was never one to involve himself too much in situations other than the purging of demons that wished to cause harm to humans. All eyes were on the spiky raven haired man for a split second before Kibutsuji spoke once more.

`` [Y/N], you may come out now. ``

You revealed yourself by coming from the shadows of the building you were inside, stepping onto the engawa just a few feet away from where Kibutsuji stood with his child close by. You fidget with your fingers out of pure nervousness, being in front of the 9 most powerful demon slayers you ever heard of in all your 19 years of living. The fact that they were in their presence alone made you want to poof out of existence.

`` This is [Y/N] [L/N], a very strong demon slayer who I believe has great potential. I wish to raise her ranking in sight of her power, so as of today, and for the rest of her time as a demon slayer, she will be a tsugoku taught under Michikatsu. ``

This brought shock to the pillars who now brought their heads up to get a better look at who you were. But the Ice pillar drew his eyes elsewhere, to Michikatsu.

`` Our quiet Tsugikuni getting a cute tsugoku? It makes me quite jealous. ``

`` Mind your tongue around Kibutsuji, Douma, `` spoke the Shockwave pillar, or better known as Hakuji Soyama. The male always had a deep resentment towards Douma, and you had yet to learn the extent of it all. Michikatsu, who had been silent the entire time, took the chance to ponder his own thoughts and really process it all. A tsugoku? He did not have time to teach a student when he so desperately desired to get stronger to protect the weak.

Kibutsuji raised a finger to his mouth, causing the pillars to suddenly stop speaking. In your eyes, this was the utmost level of respect one can receive, truly shocking you at how much they devote their lives to this man.

`` Now then, how about we allow [Y/N] to introduce herself? ``

Your head snapped up in Kibutsuji's direction, your eyes wide with shock but all he gave you was a small nod, looking at the pillars again only to see that their eyes had locked onto yours. You cleared your throat before speaking, nervousness taking over your emotions.

`` As you have heard before, my name is [Y/N] [L/N]- but you may call me [Y/N]! My breathing style is the breath of moon, similar to Tsugikuni-san. I hope I meet your expectations of a demon slayer. ``

You bowed your head low in respect, hoping that your introduction was a decent one, but when you heard a hearty laugh erupt from the Ice pillar, worry started to set in that you made a fool of yourself.

`` She really is a cute one. Makes me upset that I do not have my own tsugoku. ``

`` That is because the last time you had a tsugoku, `` started Hantengu. `` You got the poor thing lost. ``

Lifting your head, you are met with the pillars now conversing amongst themselves, semi-arguing about the situation with Douma and his former tsugoku who apparently quit after multiple attempts of asking the latter out. You could not help but but let out a small snicker, bringing the attention back to you.

`` I was the one who made her laugh first!`` Said Douma, feeling triumphant at that moment.

`` No, it was just your stupidity, `` said a young girl with long white locks who got up and spoke with attitude in her tone, although her gaze was now directed to you.

`` I apologize for them, I'm Ume pleasure to meet you. ``

The young girl bowed, but following right after was everyone else who also bowed in your direction. The whole ordeal painted obvious signs of shock onto your face because you always thought it was the pillars who deserved respect, not the other way around.

`` I apologize for my insolence as well, and my idiotic co-worker here, for our terrible first impression. ``

Hakuji held his head the lowest before raising it again, flashing you an attractive smile that would make any woman swoon immediately. You smiled in return at the 8 of them who decided to formally apologize, but the one who you assumed to be Michikatsu was silent and still.

`` Now that we are all acquainted with [Y/N], the meeting will now come to a close, you are free to do as you so choose. ``

And with that, Kibutsuji went inside the building with his daughter holding his hand until they were no longer in sight, leaving you with the 9 pillars who went back to conversing with themselves, unlike another woman who you failed to truly notice. She had long brown hair, as well as long bangs covering her eyes and pale skin. You stared until suddenly you felt someone's presence behind you, a tall one at that.

Your small shriek of shock grabbed the attention of everyone still in front of you, looking to see Michikatsu appear behind you in a matter of seconds, a serious expression all over his face.

`` How do you expect to be a good tsugoku if you scare easily? Always be on guard no matter who you are with. ``

The male left just as quickly as he appeared behind you, your nerves being left rattled and all over the place with how much he startled you. A look of concern was given to you by Hakuji, Douma, and Ume, the only three to really interact with you.

`` Dear [Y/N] got so scared, don't worry I'll protect you from Tsugikuni~ ``

`` More like he needs to be taught some manners, `` spoke Ume as she helped you up, flashing you a beautiful smile. You simply nodded, processing the turn of events. Was that same rude behavior something you'd have to endure during your time as a tsugoku?

◆◇◆◇✧◇◆◇◆

Nightfall came quicker than expected, but it was much anticipated. Tonight would be the night you get to directly study under Michikatsu, following him under the moonlight as you study his movements and learn everything he teaches you.

You put on your haori, as well as sheathing your katana inside your saya and swiftly leaving your household to meet with your sensei at the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters to discuss plans for the night.

You arrived there early and ahead of time so you can make a good first impression, only to see the spiky raven haired male leaning against a tree with his arms crossed impatiently.

`` You finally arrive. Good to see you have the mindset to be early on any occasion, that is the only decent trait you have so far. ``

You approached the male with your eyebrows furrowed, having enough of his attitude, but a voice within you stopped you before you could say anything that would make the man before you have a reason to dislike you.

`` Thank you sens- ``

`` Gratitude will get you nowhere. ``

Michikatsu suddenly leaped into the tree he was previously leaning against, standing on a sturdy branch and looking down at you below him.

`` Tonight we shall practice your speed if Kibutsuji-sama has acknowledged you. So, try to keep up with me. ``

`` Wh- ``

Before you could voice out your opinion, Michikatsu already leaped from the branch and onto another tree. Your reflexes instantly kick in, causing you to run after him and jump into the tree where he previously was, only for him to leap to another tree. The process continued of you tailing him hopelessly throughout the night until you both were well into the forest beside the headquarters.

You managed to catch up to your teacher, but just before you could land beside him the male landed in a small clearing beside a pond with koi fish swimming about freely in the clear water. He suddenly stopped to catch his breath seeing as how you both have been playing this game of cat and mouse for quite a while.

You landed beside him, catching your own breath and watching as the fish continued to swim freely, the silence taking over between you.

`` For a fresh student, you are fast, I'll give you that. ``

That was all he said, and even though so little was said, the semi-compliment made you smile with gratitude. Michikatsu side eyed you, looking down at your smaller form since you were distracted by the pond. This gave him a chance to study your physique. You had a smaller build, but he could easily tell that you were strong, after all, Kibutsuji did say you had great potential. You may have been quiet for the most part, but the male knew that you had much more to say than you let on. He truly was perspective.

`` Tsugikuni-san, why have we stopped at a pond? ``

Your question caught him off guard, so he tore his gaze away from you and went back to the usually stoic and blunt person he is.

`` To catch our breath, but our break is over. Stay close in pursuit. ``

The training continued again, going on for hours throughout the night with the same cat and mouse game you started with. Leaping from branch to branch at a fast pace staying hot on the pillar's trail. Although, at the end of the day, he has had much more experience than you have, for you struggled to keep up with him this time around.

Michikatsu suddenly stopped on a random branch of a tall tree, his back facing you but his head being turned so he can face you.

`` This is where we will stop for the night. You started to stagger and slow down 4 trees before. ``

`` No. I can continu- ``

`` As your teacher I order you to stop. ``

You flinched at his sudden command, yet you kneeled down to catch your breath nonetheless. Michikatsu suddenly appeared beside you, the same way he did so when he first pulled off the seemingly difficult trick.

`` That is all, go home, your first night of training is over. ``

◆◇◆◇✧◇◆◇◆

One night turned into two, two turned into thirteen, and thirteen turned into twenty-four. You had been training your physical strength for twenty-four straight nights in a row, refusing to give yourself a break to become the type of tsugoku Michikatsu can be proud of. Despite all your efforts, he still showed little to no sign of a significant reaction that expressed if he was impressed, proud, or disappointed with your abilities.

Tonight, you planned on changing that.

By Kibutsuji himself, you both were assigned to killing a demon who was sighted near a mountain not too far from the headquarters, and you both happily accepted the mission.

So now, here you are, standing beside your teacher at the foot of the mountain where the location was said to have been.

`` Let us deal with this demon quickly so we can return to training. ``

`` Are all we ever going to do is train? `` You spoke up, freely speaking your mind for the first time since you started studying under Michikatsu. This, however, made him turn around in an instant and loom above you, intimidating you fully.

`` Are you complaining? ``

Gulping a thick string of saliva, you shake your head no, which ultimately pleases your teacher. You could have sworn you saw him smirk out of the corner of your eye, but pushing that to the side, you both trek on your adventure up the mountain.

You followed closely behind until you sensed another, foreign presence near you - except it was not just one, it was multiple. You looked up at Michikatsu only to see him completely still, yet his hand gripped onto the handle of his katana. You shifted closer towards him so that you could watch your surroundings from another angle, but before you knew it a demon was now directly in front of you.

`` [Y/N]! ``

Michikatsu yelled your name, signaling for you to go straight into battle mode. You did so by swinging your katana instantly, only missing its neck by a hair.

`` There are 5 of them, you take care of 2 and I will do the rest. ``

`` Yes sensei. ``

You followed his plan, following the other two demons who decided to run away in the opposite direction from where you were chasing them, but by jumping and flipping above their head, landing in front of them, you were able to catch the creature off guard and successfully behead it in a timely manner.

`` Don't think you won just yet girly- ``

Another demon tried to surprise you from behind, but it was too late for it as well, because you already swung your katana and successfully decapitating it as well, leaving it to wither away on the ground just as the other did.

`` Both down. ``

With your success, you internally celebrated as you ran throughout the forest in search of your teacher, only to hear the swinging of a blade not too far from you. Following that sound, you see that the three demons he followed after ganged up on him and cornered him. You arrived just in time, seeing as how one of them was just about to attack Michikatsu when he was off guard and distracted by the other 2.

`` Breath of moon, first form: dark moon, evening palace. ``

You swung your katana in the direction of the demon's neck, being only able to sever halfway through before it dodged and managed to land an attack onto your teacher's abdomen, ripping his uniform and leaving bloody claw marks on his chest. The male gritted his teeth in slight pain, but not before he got rid of the other 2 demons in one single blow, leaving you truly astonished at his power level.

Although you could not stay distracted for long in view of the fact that the demon you tried to kill now had its attention on you, healing its neck at a visibly slow pace.

`` You got in the way, so now you'll take his place of death! ``

`` I think otherwise!, `` you shouted in return, using the second form of moon breathing, pearl flower moon-gazing that successfully sliced the demon's body into multiple pieces, including his head. It fell onto the ground and started the process of withering. With that, you ran to Michikatsu who covered the scars on his chest with his hand, sheathing his blade into his saya with the other. You kneeled down, ripping off a piece of your uniform and using that to stop the bleeding instead.

`` As a pillar I should deal with this mysel- ``

`` Stop acting all high and mighty. You are clearly injured so just let me help you. ``

Your stern tone made Michikatsu stop instantly, going silent instead and moving his hand out the way so you could tend to his needs. The fabric you ripped off only did so much, so helping the raven haired male stand up slowly, you drape his arm over your shoulder and escort him to your house, which was surprisingly not that far from where your mission just was.

Entering your home, you immediately set Michikatsu onto your futon, grabbing his hand and placing it onto his chest whilst still keeping that serious gaze in your eyes. The whole ordeal left him in utter shock that he was now in your home and in your care. He was never really one to speak his mind, so whenever he had a strong emotion of some sort it always showed on his face.

`` Keep that on your scars while I prepare everything I need to clean them. You're going to have to remove your uniform top for this. ``

Your words left him in even bigger shock, so much so that he was frozen for a good few seconds until he seemingly began slipping his haori off and unbuttoning the shirt of his uniform. He removed it with ease, now being bare enough for you to clean his wounds. Before Michikatsu, you never would have had the courage to speak up to him the way you did, but now with him being injured since you were too insolent to not kill the demon right away, you felt like you had to take responsibility.

Silently, you moved over to the male who sat bare before you, moving his hand out of your way so you could wipe away any blood that seeped anywhere else onto his body and in between the grooves of his abs. Your hand brushed against his skin ever so slightly, causing him to tense up in response.

`` Sorry if I hurt you in advance, `` you said, your voice cutting through the silence. He merely hummed in response, watching you work as he leaned back to get a better view. Michikatsu himself was appalled at how good you were at treating wounds, allowing you to actually do something he would never let anyone else do. But, over the course of your training, he had taken a liking to you.

`` Have you done this before? ``

Both of your gazes met at a close proximity before you tore yours away in slight embarrassment, continuing the process of cleaning his scars.

`` I have, yes. Why do you ask? ``

`` You seem to be rather skilled, that's all. ``

You finally finished cleaning his scars, setting down the wet cloth you used to do so, grabbing the bandages you had prepared and began wrapping them around his upper body, covering the scars effectively thus completing your task. Your skin had made contact so much that you were not able to discern when your face slowly began to heat up each time it did, but Michikatsu on the other hand had a pretty good view of your concentrated yet flustered expression.

You shifted to get up from your sitting position, only to feel a hand grab onto your wrist and pull you back down. You turn your head in disbelief, only to see that your noses were inches away from each other at the chain of events.

`` Thank you, [Y/N]. I mean it. ``

`` Well- you're welcome sensei… ``

Your bashful expression could not be hidden this time, and neither could Michikatsu's. The ends of his ears turned a bright red, thus letting you go at the realization of this because he was all too aware of his own emotions.

Hurriedly, you put your cleaning supplies away, moving so fast that you nearly tripped yourself. You could not help how you felt in that moment. Your emotions were all over the place and the only reason was because of him. Deep down you thought that yes he was attractive but his attitude was a bother. Even then, you still suppressed those feelings.

But not tonight.

`` Be careful, you might hurt yourself. There is no rush. ``

`` I apologize.. I am not used to having guests, my teacher being one no less. ``

He then suddenly patted the space beside him, signaling for you to sit down which you followed obediently, planting your hands in your lap and keeping keeping gaze low so as to not make eye contact.

`` Will you look at me? You seem to be heating up by the passing second. ``

`` It could just be your inagination..- ``

A finger was brought to your chin, tilting it to the side and upwards to examine your face at a better angle, although the tip of your noses brushed against each other at the close proximity. You had to admit, with the moon light shining through your window and the way the luminosity shone on Michikatsu's features, it made him look ten times more attractive than he already did.

`` Are you falling in love? I have a feeling you are. ``

You were ultimately taken aback by his sudden boldness even though he has mentioned that expressing how he feels just was not his thing. Your eyes widened ever so slightly while his expression stayed the same. Eyes partially lidded, mouth parted as his gaze glanced from your own irises to your lips. Your lips quivered to say something until you moved forward.

`` What if I say yes? What will you do about it. ``

`` Personally, I believe actions speak louder than words so.. ``

Just like that, you felt Michikatsu's lips press against your own yet pull away just as quickly, staring into your eyes once again until this time you moved forward, pressing your softer ones against his. The eagerness you felt in that moment showed with how you kept contact much longer than he previously did, but there were no complaints from neither of you.

A large hand moved to the small of your back, hesitantly pulling you in closer contact with his bare chest until yours was leaning into his. Pulling away at the close contact, the redness at the end of his ears spread to his cheeks just barely, and this time you visibly saw an expression other than the one he usually sports.

`` So I take that as a yes? ``

`` It was most definitely a yes Michikatsu. ``

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

#kny kokushibou #kokushibou #kokushibo x reader #kny x reader #kny imagines #demon slayer kokushibou #kny headcanons #kokushibou headcanons #reverse hashira au

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drwcn · 4 years ago

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《 Without Envy 》 storyboard 9 - concubine/sleeper agent!wwx & prince!lwj [Master List], you should also have read [6] [6.2]

Lan Qiren coming to visit Hanguang-fu effectively put an end to Wei Wuxian's time as Lan Wangji's servant. He wanted to send Wei Wuxian back to Jiang-fu, but luckily, Jiang Yanli interfered.

Jiang Yanli has been slowly recovering since her drug-induced miscarriage, and while Wei Wuxian had slowed her progress with sedatives, he's been careful to keep an eye on her intake to make sure Jin Ziyan hasn't been messing with her again. As well, with Wei Wuxian occupying Lan Wangji's time and keeping the Jiang family in his good graces, Jiang Yanli had the time she needed to recover fully without needing to push herself to entertain Lan Wangji for favour.

“妾身见过太师，给太师请安。” “阿离啊，听说你小产后一直身体不好，这下着雨，你怎么来了。起身吧, 孩子。” “承蒙太师与陛下惦记，殿下垂怜，阿离的身子已经大好了。阿羡本是妾身院里的，是妾身的陪嫁，一直都安分守己，对王府对殿下忠心不二。是妾身无用，身子一直不见好才让阿羡到王爷身边侍奉。刚见阿羡被太师训斥，相比是阿离平日里管教无方，无心顶撞了太师。有什么过错，都是妾身的错，还请太师责罚。” ~translate~ Jiang Yanli dipped into a proper curtsey, kneeling before Lan Qiren, "This humble concubine greets Taishi. I pray that you've been well." "A-Li, I've heard that you've not been well since your miscarriage. It's raining today, what troubled you to come? Rise, child." Lan Qiren's stance softened upon seeing Jiang Yanli. His late sister-in-law had no daughters, and so often summoned the daughters of nobles into court to dote on and mentor as her own. Jiang Yanli, gentle and proper, has long been known to be a favorite of the late empress. She may not be the greatest beauty in her generation, but was second to none when it came to etiquette and grace. "Thanks be to His Majesty and taishi for remembering, and thanks to dianxia's for his care, my health is much improved now. A-Xian was once a member of my court, my peijia. I've always known him to be obedient and conscious of his place, and loyal to wangye and this princely manor. It is only on account of my poor health that he's been summoned to serve at wangye's side. Earlier, I heard Taishi chastising him; surely it must be A-Li's fault for failing to teaching him propriety and thus causing his unintended offence. The fault is with A-Li, and so I humbly submit myself to your discipline, taishi." Lan Qiren sighed. He did not wish to stir up trouble over a servant. If Jiang Yanli was willing to stand up for this Wei Wuxian, then he must have his uses. At the very least, he'll be a confidant for Jiang Yanli against Jin Ziyan. Lan Qiren so hoped that one day Wangji would choose the Jiang girl as his legal spouse and secure his marriage once and for all. If sparing one lowly servant was the price then so be it. "Very well, A-Li. Since the servant is yours, then his training and discipline shall be your responsible. He is unsuited to serve at the prince's side. It is good that you have recovered; Wangji should not be without a caring partner."

And so, Wei Wuxian returned to Jiang Yanli's side as a servant. Lan Wangji had to watch him go and could not interfere. The next several days was depressing for both of them on multiple fronts.

Xue Yang was very unimpressed:

"So you're tell me that you got to spend quality time with Lan Wangji for months and then... didn't get anywhere?" "I was getting there okay? How was I supposed to know his stupid uncle was gonna barge in like some nosey busybody and ruin everything!? I haven't seen Lan Zhan in days..." I miss him. How horrifyingly embarrassing. He probably forgot me already. "Don't tell me you actually miss him??? That you - barf - fell for him? Whatever happened to standards??!" "You watch your mouth, Xue Chengmei! I'm still your shixiong! And I have standards; Lan Zhan is...very good." Xue Yang: ( ˘︹˘ ) whatever.

Lan Wangji, the sulky boy that he is, brooded for days until Lan Xichen finally sought him out for some good ol' brotherly heart to heart.

"I hear Uncle took away your shiny new toy." "Wei Ying is not a toy." "Wei Ying is it?" Lan Xichen wiggled his eyebrows. "Ah, didi, you have to think a little more creatively. So your Wei Ying has gone back to his mistress, but is his mistress not your concubine? Jiang-furen is still unpregnant, I might add. Visit her. Then surely you'll get to see him." Lan Wangji grimaced. The thought has occurred to him, but the idea of bedding anyone not Wei Ying is intolerable. "Yes, Yanli is lovely, but I'd rather not...you know..." His brother was too polite to roll his eyes. "You've done it before, Wangji." "I would not have had to, if xiongzhang simply did his duty." Lan Wangji bit back icily, and instantly regretted it. Lan Xichen's eyes widened, his cheerful-teasing expression stuttering and crumbling in seconds. "Yes...yes that's true." "My sincerest apologies, huangxiong - no - bixia." Lan Wangji rose to his feet and then bowed down deeply. "I forgot my place. I accept any punishment." Lan Xichen sighed and extended a forgiving hand to pardon him. "Not necessary, Wangji. You're right. I haven't done my duty for Gusu." He pulled the younger man to sit beside him again. "You are doing this in my stead, stepping up where I have let the country down. I should not make light of your sacrifice. The matter of a harem is inevitably complicated, which is why I never cared for one. Neither did Father. His harem had always been sparse, and his first empress was not one of his choosing. When she died in childbirth and our unborn sibling along with her, he elevated our mother's rank to Empress and visited no one else henceforth." "Mother was never popular with the ministers for that reason." "Yes. They suspected that she had something to do with...well, in any case I imagine they were quite relieved when she passed." Lan Xichen shook his head. "The harem is not a happy place, Wangji. You were born after Mother was already Empress, you would not have remembered a time when she was consort. But I do. Like you, your concubines did not get to choose their fate. The fault, ultimately, lies with me." "Huangxiong -" "It's true, Wangji. The fault is mine." Lan Xichen patted him on the arm placatingly. "You cannot love them, and clever as they are, I don't think your concubines would expect you to. However, you can ensure their happiness in other ways. Jiang-furen seems the kind to very much want a child of her own. It will make the rest of her life in your harem more bearable."

After some deliberation, Lan Wangji went back to his routine of visiting different concubines regularly, but never more than just sharing a bed-space. With the exception of Jiang Yanli. Lan Wangji could see it in her eyes; she knew who he really wanted, but those words never needed to be said aloud. Jiang Yanli was kind to him, and he was kind to her in return. All things considered, it wasn't awful being with someone who wasn't your preferred, but who knew you for yourself and shared your struggles.

"Dianxia, you must've heard, that before I married into your wangfu, I was betrothed to Jin Zixuan." She mentioned one evening over a game of weiqi. Of all his concubines (which he has 4) and friends (which he has few), Jiang Yanli's skill on the weiqi board was unparalleled. Lan Wangji half wondered how the Marquis and Marchioness of Yunmeng could have buried this talented daughter of theirs under the shadow of their son for so many years. "Yes I am aware." "I loved him." "...." For a minute Lan Wangji did not know how to reply. He stared at the chessboard. Jiang Yanli's black pieces had surrounded his white ones and forced them into a corner. "Why are you telling me this?" "Your court, my clan: we are their creatures." Jiang Yanli 's smile was knowing. "I am not A-Xian; I can see what he cannot." "Which is?" "You've fallen for each other. Completely. He denies it, heaven knows why." Jiang Yanli took a delicate sip of tea. Fleetingly, Lan Wangji imagined that if he could not have Wei Ying, if he were forced to take a legal wife to make empress, that she would make a magnificent one. "Father loved Mother. Loved her as a wife even when she was only a consort -" "And his love spurred the hate of the royal court." "They blamed her for his loving a woman more than his country, as though she should have persuaded him to love her less. I do not want the same to happen to Wei Ying." "Nor I." "Huangshu says I would need a legal spouse one day, someone virtuous and from a strong pureblood family." "Is that what dianxia wants?" "I want it to be Wei Ying, though I know it to be impossible. Barring that, I'd want to keep him safe in the harem, the size of which will only grow after I succeed the throne." "For that, dianxia will need a spouse who will reign over the harem as you rule over the country." Lan Wangji contemplated his choices and the options available to him. After some time, he placed the white piece he fiddled between his fingers back into the bamboo bowl, conceding that he'd lost this round. Jiang Yanli waited patiently for him to come to terms with the offer she already knew he would make. He wondered how long ago she had foreseen this moment, whilst simultaneously realizing that if his uncle had any idea just how intelligent she truly was, he would not be so quick to suggest her as a candidate for princess consort. A weak emperor and a strong empress never boded well for the stability of the realm. This was dangerous waters Lan Wangji was wading into, but he knew beyond doubt that the only way to survive was to keep straight ahead. He had no other path to take, none which maximally balanced what he wanted with what he needed. Jiang Yanli was his only solution, his only ally. "Huangxiong suggested that we have a child together." He finally said, staring her squarely in the eyes. "You and I can agree that the son of Gusu Lan and Yunmeng Jiang would certainly be a strong contender amongst his brothers." "She could be a daughter." "Then I'd cherish her more. A child and a crown - would they make you happy, Yanli?" "If I said yes?" "Then they're yours." Jiang Yanli smiled.

Two months after Wei Wuxian was dismissed from Lan Wangji's service and the prince began visiting Jiang Yanli, good new was delivered to Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan. The message was this: Hanguang-wang's Jiang-furen was with child yet again.

#cql #the untamed #wangxian #cql ficlet #corie fics #without envy #i said i'd do this for yall #and so i did

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sapphire-dreamsky · 4 years ago

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Red Night

Starring: Ryomen Sukuna, Curse!Reader, OCs

Pairing: Sukuna x Curse!Reader

Warning: Death of minor characters.

A/N: It's kind of a historical AU? I mean Sukuna has his original form, and it takes place in the past. But it's also historically innaccurate😅. I apologise in advance.

In retrospect, (y/n) knew it was fruitless. The gap between curses and humans was far too large. It was already set in the humans’ heart, the fear which accompanies ‘their’ apparition. By ‘their’ they mean curses of course. People were so scared of them that the mere utterance of their name, in their superstitious mind, meant immediate death.

But (y/n) wanted to believe in the hope that one day, curses and humans could understand each other. She wanted them to be able to make a compromise so that both can live in peace. This shouldn’t be impossible. Curses are born from humans. Some humans even become curses. But that hope was squashed down as the townspeople grew to fear her.

Sukuna watches as the town which once worshipped the ground (y/n) walked on, were now chanting her demise. They brought forth their pitchforks, their torches all in the hopes of killing the abomination. The abomination they once worshipped as if she was a goddess. Well, she was one in his eyes. A foolish, naive goddess, but still his.

The woman looked around her, eyes gleaming in the orange glow of the fire. She so desperately wanted to turn back time. She wonders where it all went wrong. Did all her good deeds disappear as quickly as the day turned into the night? Her mind takes her back to a few months back. When she was arguing with her king.

“You are being foolish, (y/n). I once was a human exterminating curses. I know how the human mind works. They will hate you whatever you do.”

“But Sukuna, don’t you want a world where we can both live freely? Without the omnipresent fear that humans will always want to kill the likes of us?”

“I live for killing humans. I live for the carnage. But if you’re so stubborn, go on to that town down our mountain. Prove me wrong if you so desire to get along with these pests.” Sukuna rolled his four eyes, four arms crossed on his chest. He could care less about living with humans. He thought that the life they were leading up that mountain was enough. No one could disturb them there. But no, (y/n) had to have this stupid idea in her pretty little mind. Sometimes the King wonders how she became a curse with so much kindness and compassion in her heart. He could hardly see her curse anyone. She was too kind for her own good. That’s a part of her personality Sukuna cannot get rid of.

And so she headed down to the town at the foot of the mountain they were residing at. She remembers their warm smile as they welcome her into their ranks. She looked like them after all. Mere humans wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between human curses and themselves. They merely thought that her tattoos were among one of the oddities which she had. She stayed in the town for six months. Six blissful months where all their woes disappeared thanks to (y/n). She healed the young and elderly to her best abilities despite using curse energy. She helped the crops grow even during floods. The town is prospering more than ever since her arrival. And so, they made a shrine for her. They showered her with praises, thanking the gods for sending their messenger to their town.

Sukuna watched from the temple as his lover went and made friends around town. He watched her giving her warm smiles to children as they tugged on her kimono for attention. He watched her become known as the merciful goddess of that town. The king of curses didn’t know what to think. Her ideas were foolish. Humans and curses can never coexist. That’s the truth. But he let her run around. He only watched from a distance because he knew that he was the one who would be right. It won’t be long before she realizes that humans were monsters in sheep’s clothing. It won’t be long until she comes back to his side.

(Y/n) felt happy. She was glad that she could help the people. A positive feeling accompanied all the good deeds. The people were happy with her presence. ‘It won’t be long until they see that curses have feelings too!’ (Y/n) though ecstatically. What she didn’t know was that she gained the attention of not only the people living in the town but also those who ruled that town. And cruel was the man who watched the beautiful woman in the pink flower-patterned kimono as she walked around town carelessly, with an easy smile. He shall have her. She will be his newest concubine. He was the Lord of that land. Everything belonged to him. And that included that peculiar woman. Messenger of the gods or not, that had little importance in his eyes, for he was the Lord who ruled over everything. It didn’t matter if she was married or engaged, for he lived only for his own pleasure.

It was a cloudless day. (Y/n) was going to visit Sukuna again as was her habit. In her hand was a wooden basket an elderly woman crafted for her after learning she was going up to the shrine on the mountain. “Be careful,” said the elderly woman with a concerned tone, “I hear that there are wild animals up that mountain. It’s dangerous. No one goes there anymore because of them.” (Y/n) smile reassuringly at her. She knew for a fact that there were no wild animals. Sukuna was merely protective of the place he decided to claim as his own. The elderly woman was the first one who welcomed her to that town. She introduced to the young curse everything she had to know about the town’s custom and their cultures. To the curse, she was like a grandmother. The elderly woman had no family and was a widow. She lived alone in her house of stone on the outskirt of town. So, (y/n) took it upon herself to visit her as often as she could. She would often bake (y/n) some treats to repay her help around her house. The curse would often bring them up to Sukuna so that they could eat it together. The King was disgusted at first. But after much nagging, he relented and begrudgingly said that they tasted “alright”. That meant to (y/n) that they tasted good. That he liked them. So she would always bring him the treats the old widow prepared for her. Watching him enjoy something so simple makes her so happy. It’s like a reminder for her. A reminder that Sukuna used to be a human. Watching him eat is so grounding because she could pretend that they were normal. That they wouldn’t get shun should they decide to live amongst humans. She wanted to go to the market with her king. She wanted to do domestic chores that her parents used to do a long time ago. She wanted to go to festivals with her king even if he would complain the whole time. It was these little wishes which kept her trying to make peace with humans. She wanted Sukuna to enjoy something human. Something which would remind him that he too used to be human.

The road to the mountain was always quiet. It was not very used since people rarely travelled this way. But today, there was a very fancy carriage with some guards obscuring her usual route. (Y/n) came to a halt in front of the carriage, head cocked to the side, confused. The guards open the door and help a tall man down. He was a tall human with black hair and green eyes. He might have been handsome in humans’ standard. But he paled in comparison to her beloved grouchy King. He gave her what he considered his ‘best smile’. It was a grin really. It was so different from Sukuna’s. The grin of this human makes her uncomfortable. The grin of Sukuna made her feel butterflies in her stomach. It made her nervous in a good way.

“Rejoice woman! For, the great ruler of the town has decided to make you his concubine! This is not a favour which is given to many. You are special in my eyes so get in the carriage and let’s head back to the palace immediately! I want to get acquainted with you, lovely flower.” The woman cringes. Sukuna who was rude and crass was finally not that bad. ‘There are people who are worse than him when trying to flirt, after all. How shocking.’ But nevertheless (Y/n) politely bows her head in apology. It would be bad if she upset the Lord since she wanted to get along with his people after all. “ I apologize, My Lord. There is already someone in my life at the moment. I’m certain, however, that you will find someone more fitting for the position you are offering.” With that, the young woman leaves the flabbergasted man behind and continues her road to the mountain. The road which led to the king of her heart.

The man watches her leave in anger. No one was ever brave enough to simply brush him aside like that. How dare she humiliate him in front of his guards like that. The lord was turning red. With a cold cutting voice, he orders his guards to spread a rumour. ‘The pretty little woman will soon run begging for mercy at his feet.’ He thought, chuckling maniacally.

After she spent her night with her King who was attention-starved, not that he would admit it. He would rather fight a thousand shamans than admit that he missed his annoying woman. (Y/n) decides to go back to town to see if there was anything she could help with. Instead of the warm welcome, she always gets, all she receives is cold shoulders and glares. The people cowered away from her. ‘Could they know about my real identity?’ Worried, she decides to go to the one person who would tell her everything. The old woman’s shop was closed today. (Y/n) had to head to the house on the outskirts of town. Just going there took the young woman the whole morning. She knocked on the woman’ door. In the corner of her eyes, she sees a curtain move. The door opens quickly, a frail old hand grabs the curse and drags her inside before quickly shutting the door.

“Oh my poor child. You should not have come back! You have to run away before nightfall!” (Y/n) looks at her confused. “But why?” The woman shakes her head gravely. “The lord of this town is awful. He takes whoever he wants. If they don’t go along with him, they are killed by the townspeople.” The curse recoils. Frozen in her shock, the elderly woman goes on. “He told everyone that you were a witch. You fornicate with the devil which is why you can heal, do so many miracles for us. Everyone is scared right now. They will-”

A loud bang resonates. Shouts of anger can be heard from outside. The moon shines in red glows as torches illuminate the night. The old woman drags the curse to the side door and pushes her outside. “Go! I will distract them!” “Grandma, no! You have to come with me! I can protect us both!” The old woman shakes her head and smiles at the curse gently. “You might not be human, but your heart is kinder than most. This house means everything to me. I want to die between these walls.’’ The woman pushes (y/n) one more time. The curse watches as they condemn the human who has been so kind to her from the very first day. The curse watches as they burn this house to the ground. The memories she made with the woman burning and disappearing in the fire. Oh, how cruel humans can be.

Alerted by the smell of fire, Sukuna exits his temple and watches as the town below chases after his lover. Their torches and angry shouts can be heard in the silence of the night. Sukuna watches as his lover stands in the middle of the crowd. The lord watches in satisfaction from his home as they chase down the woman who humiliated him. Ready to intervene, Sukuna runs down the path leading to the little town.

(Y/n) shocked at the turn of the events, looks around her. These people that she helped in the past. These people who would always smile at her when she is passing through town. They were now cursing at her, wishing her dead. They killed one of their own because of a sin that she didn’t commit. Because of the old widow’s kind heart. Her eyes are glassy. She can feel a tear falling down. It hurts. It suffocates her. She can barely breathe as they keep on chanting her demise. The people she loved turned against her. Sukuna was right. Even without knowing what she truly was, humans would always chase away those who didn’t appear humans.

And so, during that full moon, which would later be known as the Red Night, she burned that town to the ground without Sukuna’s help. She became their worst nightmare. Their worst fear came to reality as they angered the goddess. The lord who instigated all of this tragedy watches in fear as (y/n) burned his town to the ground. He would become the only living witness. He would later tell his children about the story of the goddess of his old town. The scar which marred with once flawless skin that he received from her would be the only proof of her very existence. The proof that you should not anger a curse.

Sukuna held her as they went back to their temple. For once, he spared her of his snide comment. He doesn’t complain as she wets his kimono with her tears. His four arms encircle her form protectively. She might have been foolish but she was his. And the gods forbid, Sukuna took care of everything which was his. Even if they annoy him by forcing him to eat sweets, even if she would hug him without the fear that he would snap and kill her in an instant. Sukuna might not understand the concept of love, as a human, he loved no one but himself. But as a curse, he knew that he loved her as he let her sit comfortably in his lap. He knew he loved her when he let her make a home in his temple. She knew Sukuna loved her when he held her tight and never let go.

#ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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jokertrap-ran · 3 years ago

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(时空中的绘旅人—For All Time—) Clarence Route Translations (Chapter 16-2 阿萝拉: Aurora)

*For All Time Master-list / Clarence’s Personal Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Maintaining Si Lan’s name as Clarence *Route Tag is #Chapter of Legacy

I carried the napping Aurora back to the Mage Tower.

Seeing how her body was becoming horribly cold, I held her with my own body as she slept.

It was a while later that she turned, looping her arms around my neck.

Aurora: I'm a little cold… Uncle told me that I should sing loudly whenever I'm cold...

Saying so, she started singing in a gossamer-like voice by my ear.

Aurora: Stars are sleeping, snow gently falling. Where has the butterfly gone; for my hand still holds the fragrance of flowers…

She sang in short bursts. Maybe it was because she was still unfamiliar with it, or perhaps it was because she was distracted by something else.

Aurora: That Uncle sings it so well. Sadly, Aurora hasn't completely learnt it…

She hugged me tighter to her because of how cold she felt. Her other hand reached over to press itself against her stomach. I knew her stomach was still hurting.

Clarence said that these were all drawbacks of being a Mage.

But for a child so young? On what grounds, does she have to be bearing this immense burden for the sake of the world?

I didn't know what to do. All I could do was to hold her small body tightly within my arms…

A night passed.

It was very quiet when I awoke.

No, something's wrong. Aurora should be beside me, and she's gone! Did… Did Clarence deal away with her already, since she was on the verge of losing control?

I hurriedly got up and recalled what Sun Zhuoyi had told me yesterday. I felt a gut-dropping sense of unease. I MUST find her!

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

I quickly smoothed out my clothes and went hunting for her up and down the Mage Tower.

The carriage was already ready and waiting outside the Mage Tower. Clarence was giving Aurora the instructions to her assignment in front of it.

I got a little closer to them and listened in on their conversation.

Sounds like Aurora’s mission this time is to clear out the Rebel Mages who worked under the Silver Knight.

The Silver Knight had managed to rope some Rebel Mages into his plans and allowed them to attack the Palace, as well as the residences of Nobles. I’ve also vaguely seen the aftermath of the chaos caused by the Rebel Mages before, in my previous journeys.

To my knowledge of the matter, they’d managed to successfully scare the Aristocrats, but they were all quickly dealt away with by Clarence himself, so nothing particularly serious happened.

But this time, upon overhearing Clarence as he explained Aurora’s task to her, I knew; This wasn’t the slightest bit simple at all.

The Silver Knight has been pulling out all stops and laying out the groundwork every step of the way in his plans to attack the Capital. Not only did he have Ordinary Mages under his control, but also a team of Mages that were already out of control.

The Silver Knight utilized potions to forcefully alter the Mages into a half-butterfly metamorphosis― He coerced the Mages to consume the potion of their own accord, making them willingly fall into a state of nearly losing control, before maintaining this state through the use of another potion.

A Mage in this state had icy wings in place of arms and their entire body covered in ice crystals. Their sanity will be on the brink of madness, yet they still hold a sliver of consciousness.

Of course, when under excruciating pain, the only thing they can process is to kill, destroy, and freeze everything. And Clarence’s method of dealing with this impending “destruction”, was to “engulf” it all.

He’d decided to send out Aurora, one of the “Nine Seats'' to deal with the matter. He told her that she didn’t need to care about who, or what was on the other end, merely to treat them as Ice Butterflies and devour them all.

Aurora: Wow. Aurora can eat till she’s full if there are that many monsters this time. Right?

Clarence: That’s right. You’ll be able to eat to your heart’s content this time. And then after you’re done… Do make sure to get a good night’s sleep. You will not feel cold anymore, and neither will your stomach hurt ever again after you fall asleep this time.

I felt my eyes dampening.

Aurora… She really doesn’t know, does she…?

This was a death sentence in the farce of a mission. However, Clarence was as calm and unwavering as ever as he delivered Aurora the details of her mission. While Aurora, on the other hand, was only worried about whether she could “eat till she was full”.

The fate of all Mages was to be born in the throes of desire, pain, and suffering; and also, to fall into the spiral of madness and depravity.

It was then that Clarence breathed a light sigh.

Clarence: Do you hate me, Aurora?

Clarence actually asked another about their thoughts on him? I’d long since thought that he’d forgo how others saw him, given his personality...

Aurora wore a blank look of utter confusion. She looked up at Clarence, unable to come up with an answer even after thinking for a good long while.

Clarence: I am the Master of the Mage Tower. I should be the one guiding and protecting all of you Mages.

Clarence: However, you are all nought but tools to me. I use you, I sacrifice you… I watch you all die, one-by-one… Yet, I do not bat an eye.

Clarence: It would only make sense if you were to hate me for what I did.

With how he was bemoaning with lament at this point, rather than talking to Aurora about it, it might as well just be him, criticizing himself with his own monologue.

He was blaming himself for being as icy and closed-off as he was.

— Does this mean that somewhere deep down in that heart of his… Clarence has a heart that feels for all the Mages under him?

Aurora: Hate…? You mean, not liking you? Aurora doesn't dislike you, Master Clarence~

Aurora: Aurora doesn't like being hungry. Aurora has always been hungry before meeting you.

Aurora: Aurora cried back home and kicked up a fuss, asking dad for food. Dad took Aurora and dumped Aurora by the river, picking up many hard pieces of bread to eat.

Aurora: Aurora doesn’t like hard bread, but Aurora was just so hungry… So, Aurora ate them all down anyway.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

… I could guess what the “hard bread” she was talking about really was. I’d heard of a distant legend about the olden times, where the poor would feed their offspring stones in place of food during times of famine...

The children who ate stones will die, but at least that would save some food for the rest of the family.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Aurora: Aurora always got a tummy ache whenever Aurora eats the hard bread, but Master Clarence gave Aurora medicine to drink. It was bitter, but Aurora’s stomach no longer hurt after drinking it.

Clarence: I’m not doing a good deed. Your strong desire for food, “gluttony”, was what drew me in. I merely thought that you had the potential to become a Mage.

Clarence: I took you under my wing, taking you to the Mage Tower. I offered you all the delicacies that Yemsaiel has to offer. Yet, at the same time, I required you to devour Ice Butterflies. Your stomach still hurts all the same.

Aurora tilted her head in thought. She patted the sides of her head, seemingly trying to make sense of what Clarence was trying to say...

After a while, Aurora started sucking on her thumb in thought, apparently none the wiser.

Aurora: Err… I still have stomach aches, but I can’t blame you for that, Master Clarence. You’re a Mage… not someone who treats bad tummies...

Aurora: I heard that you’d get a stomach ache from eating too much, and I can’t stop myself from eating… So, I think it’s pretty normal for me to be getting tummy aches...

Aurora: So be it then! I like to eat! And I’m super happy when I’m eating! You let me eat all I want, Master Clarence! Of course, I like you!!

Clarence: ……

Clarence stays silent for a while before sighing gently.

As pure and innocent as Aurora was, there was nothing Clarence could say to make her understand the truth.

It was probably only because of her naive earnestness as a young girl that allowed her to concentrate as much as she did on her Magic, hence the reason why she was able to attain the rank of one of the “Nine Seats” at such a young age.

Suddenly, Aurora jumped in front of Clarence and patted his face.

Aurora: Stop pulling such a long face, Master Clarence...

Aurora: The Mage Tower is very noisy. There are always people yelling and crying, but everyone also has times where they smile. Only you, Master Clarence. You've never smiled.

Aurora: Aurora smiles when Aurora's full, and the others smile when their wish is fulfilled.

Aurora: Aurora is thinking that Master Clarence's wish hasn't been fulfilled yet. Aurora hopes that it'll be fulfilled soon~

Aurora: Although, even if Aurora might already be asleep by then… Aurora will still be happy! Just like when Aurora has a full stomach!

Hearing Aurora's words, the realization finally dawned on me that she never truly understood anything. She was as clueless as they came.

Clarence paused for a moment before reaching out, caressing her hair and touching her face.

Clarence: How cold… The skin of all Mages is always cold to the touch. I apologise for making you turn out like this.

Clarence: I create all of you, let all of you grow and indulge in all of your desires. And in part, I've also made all of you the very thing feared and hated by the world.

Clarence: But at the same time, I'm also aware that all of you are the true victims, the true sacrifices, of this world.

Clarence: I am incapable of saving you all. But not letting your sacrifices be in vain is the least I can do.

After that, Clarence's lips parted slightly into a faint chuckle.

Clarence, he… he's really laughing…

Aurora was elated, skipping in front of Clarence and jumping up to pull his cheeks upwards.

Aurora: He’s laughing… This is the first time I’ve seen Master Clarence laugh!

Actually squishing Clarence’s face like that… Only Aurora would ever dare to do such a thing…

Clarence wasn’t mad, only maintaining his smile.

Clarence: Aurora. I treat all the Mages here in this Mage Tower as my pawns, with no emotional attachment whatsoever. But that is only because I do not want anyone to influence my emotions, and the decisions I make.

Clarence: — But that doesn’t mean that all the time I’ve spent with all of you is meaningless to me. I do not regret the time I spent with any of you.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥Chapter of Legacy✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Previous Part: (Chapter 16-1) | Next Part: (Chapter 16-3)

#时空中的绘旅人 #For All Time #Otome #Translations #Netease #司��#Si Lan #Clarence #传承之章 #鳥海浩輔 #toriumi kousuke #Toriumi Kohsuke #Chapter of Legacy

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killiansprincss · 3 years ago

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Two Victims of Bad Form

Okay so this fic is inspired by this post I made last week and it blew up and I had a few requests to write it, so here it is!! I really hope you enjoy it!!

link to A03

Tagging: @the-darkdragonfly @elizabeethan @superchocovian @lostintheskyfaraway @pirateprincessofpizza

_____

Liam Jones was used to The Underworld. He hadn’t yet had a run in with Hades and it wasn’t too bad of an afterlife. He didn’t try to keep track of his time here, it was a waste. While he did wonder when he would see his brother again, he only wished he was living a long and happy life.

Liam does wonder what he is up to and what happened when they returned to their home kingdom. Killian was Captain of the Navy now, would he go in front of the King and reveal the true nature of that awful plant, and become a hero?

But had he also found happiness? As a navymen Liam can’t lie and say the female sex didn’t find ways to converse with them and Killian would often become flustered, not knowing the correct and best way to talk to them, as a men of the King there were expectations. But he had hoped there was a special female who he had found happiness with.

But his life-or-afterlife was pretty good. It wasn't great at first though. Accepting the fact you are dead was not something Liam was able to accept straight away, he kept playing his last moments over and over again, and wishing he could go back and stop himself from scratching the dreamshade on his arm. It was a foolish and rash decision which every day he regrets. He fell victim to bad form quickly. The Underworld was a strange town but the wide variety of alcohol was one thing he liked.

There was a bar that Liam would go to every day and the Rum was far spicier than the one he had become accustomed to in the Enchanted Forest, and it was stronger too. Apparently being dead knocks out your tolerance for alcohol. He was a mess. He grieved for his own life, all the things he planned to do and see, and he grieved for his little brother and how now he was all alone.

The owner of the bar, Alaric, was a former King of a long forgotten kingdom. He wasn’t the kindest or most understanding King in his former life, so in the Underworld Alaric devoted his time to helping others, and he helped Liam come to terms with the fact that while he was dead, it was not the worst thing in the world.

“If your mother is here, her gravestone will be up. If she’s in a better place it will have fallen, but a crack will appear if that is not the case.” Those were the last words Alaric said to Liam before he found peace.It was the one thing Liam wanted to know.

Finding out his mother’s fate was a high priority for Liam, he hoped she were in a better place and they would be reunited once Killian arrived in years to come. He hoped she could be proud of her two boys. He doesn’t know what he would do if she were in a worse place.

And there it was. A grave marked “Alice Jones”

Liam smiles. It had fallen over. She was in a better place.

Knowing his mother was in a better place, at peace likely, was all Liam needed to get on with his life in the afterlife.

Alaric was the first person Liam felt like he could speak to and open up to. And it felt good. He wanted to do the same for other people.

So Liam takes over and starts working at the Bar, working his way through the ranks until he eventually becomes manager and owner, well nobody is really an owner of any property in the Underworld, but in every sense the bar was his. He becomes to other people what Alaric was to him. Letting them grieve and come to terms with their own passing and potentially their unfinished business.

Every day he’s at the bar, he hopes his little brother will walk through the doors and they can be together again. Deal with their unfinished business and find peace together. But every day he doesn’t. And as much as it hurts not seeing him, it’s a good thing.

Every day Killian doesn’t walk through his doors is another day he is on Earth living his life. Maybe he's married to a Princess and is the greatest Captain the Royal Navy has seen in centuries. Just maybe.

These dreams keep Liam positive, until one day.

________

It started out like any normal day in the Underworld, Liam would wake, go for a morning run before his shift at the bar. It wasn’t too busy, a few regulars who would sit quietly on the other side to where he was working. Until a woman came in who he hadn’t seen before. She was beautiful, with strong bone structure and dark curls that accentuated her face. But she didn’t look in the best state. A new arrival to the Underworld Liam guesses, he’s seen that scared face all too many times.

“I need something strong.” is all she says as she sits on the bar stool to steady herself.

Liam nods as he reaches around for the strongest whiskey they stock and pours it into a frosted glass. This was a much nicer way of serving alcohol, he assumed this was how royals drank, vastly different to the dirty taverns he and Killian drank in.

“How did I end up here?” She sighs as she takes the glass in her hands.

“Well, this is the Underworld, therefore I’d say to end up here means you died. Sorry to be the one to break the news.” Liam says with a sarcastic smile.

She looks up from her glass, clearly not amused by the sarcasm, and Liam can see the pain in her green eyes. “It gets easier, I promise you that.”

“I was murdered.” She finally says. “How am I expected to feel better?”

It was an unfortunate fact that a lot of people ended up in the Underworld due to falling victim to murder.

“Well, I died because of my own stubbornness, left behind my little brother who is all on his own. It takes time to accept these facts, not saying it gets easier right away but you’ll get there in time.”

“I left my son behind with his horrible father. I am a horrible person.” She admits. “It wasn’t meant to be like this. I was going back for him and we would’ve been a family.”

Liam doesn’t say anything else, so he pours her another shot of whiskey and lets her sit there until she eventually leaves. This was her journey and Liam didn’t want to probe into open wounds. And if anyone knew anything about being left with a horrible father it was Liam. He hoped the poor lad ended up on a better path.

But the next day she comes back. “So that whiskey was really good yesterday. Got anything else?”

Liam smiles as he grabs the spicy rum he’s grown accustomed to drinking on days where he needs to drown his sorrows. “My bar is always here if you need a drink or a chat. Names Liam.”

The dark haired beauty takes the glass from Liam and takes a sip, “Milah. Have we met before? You look awfully familiar.”

Liam studies Milah for a second, her green eyes and dark curls don’t ring a bell, and he was normally good with faces. “Can’t say that I have, unless you’ve been dead longer than you think.”

Milah comes in almost every day for a few weeks before she starts to open up. Liam doesn’t pry, he serves her a drink while she ponders her afterlife.

“My ex husband killed me.” She tells Liam one day. Liam didn’t try to force her to say anything which she appreciates, so she doesn’t mind telling him her story.

Of all the things Milah could’ve said about her murderer, Liam was not expecting that. “I’m sorry to hear that. Do you mind me asking why?”

Milah takes another sip before saying, “I ran away. To be with my lover. He was angry that I left my son behind, but he was just a boy and the high seas are dangerous. I was going to come back for him when he was older. After I ran, my ex husband got hungry for power and revenge so he found a way to become the Dark One, and sure enough he got his revenge on me. Rumple ripped out my heart and called me a bad mother, which I hate to admit he was right.”

“I don’t think you were a bad mother.” Liam tells her. “Sure you could have handled your situation differently, but it sounds like you never forgot about your son and the fact you wanted to go back for him speaks volumes. You mention the high seas, was your lover in the Navy?”

Milah laughs. “Oh no, far from it actually. He was a Pirate Captain and I guess I was also a Pirate. We weren’t bad people, I assure you that, but Baelfire was far too young to understand anything.”

Liam gives her a disapproving look which Milah catches. “Don’t look at me like that. We both ended up in the same place. Don't tell me you were in the Navy.”

Liam just nods. “Naval Captain. Died on a mission the King sent us on. My little brother tried to save me but it was poison and it went straight to my heart.”

“Well I’ll cheers to that.” Milah says, raising her glass.

A few days later Milah is telling her story again, and giving more details about how bad her life was at home with her husband. “He took my choice away from me to have a second child. Baelfire was sick, and he was too much of a coward to steal the medicine to save his life. Rumple made a deal instead that this man would take our second born in exchange, so I could never have a second child.”

“You’ll get to face him again one day, when he arrives down here and you can tell him what a coward he was.” Liam felt horrible for Milah, she was a victim of another man's bad form and it ruined her life and led to her destruction.

“One can only hope. Anyway, it was that night I met Killian and everything changed.”

Liam freezes, he hadn’t heard that name come out of another mouth since he died. Milah notices, “are you okay?”

“Sorry. Killian was my little brother's name, I haven't heard it since, and it brought back memories. Sorry, continue with your story.”

“So he tells me he’s a Pirate, and he’s captain of the fastest ship in all the realm and he can take me anywhere I wish.”

Killian. It’s a common name surely. Fastest Ship in all the realm, Liam is sure a lot of Pirates say this. But just to be sure. “What was his name? Captain who? We came across Pirates in my Naval days, I’d be interested to know who he is.”

“Jones. Captain Killian Jones.”

Liam freezes and his vision suddenly becomes blurry.

No. It couldn’t be. His little brother, his trusted Lieutenant, a Pirate. No, not just a Pirate, but apparently the most ‘fearsome in the land.’ “I believe you’re talking about my little brother. Only when I died he was Lieutenant Jones of the King's Royal Navy.”

Milah’s eyes widened, “That’s why you look so familiar, you have his eyes.” Tears began to form thinking about what she had heard and what Killian had mentioned about his brother. “Something called Nightshade, it poisoned you, but the King wanted it for his army. Killed you as soon as you left the Island.”

Liam smiles, Killian had told someone about him. “The poison was called Dreamshade. I didn’t want to bore you with details of my death but I guess it relates. We didn’t know that it was a poison, and assumed it was a simple herb or plant used to heal our warriors. It was a strange island, there was this boy no older than 15, he told us it was deadly. Course I didn’t believe the kid so I cut myself with the plant. One thing led to another and I died because the water I drank which healed it wore off as soon as we were back in the Enchanted Forest.”

“I’m so sorry Liam. Killian spoke of his brother, of you. I didn’t put two and two together.” She felt horrible that she had been speaking about Killian not knowing his blood and flesh was right in front of her.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m not angry at you-how were you to know. I’m a little disappointed in my brother though, as soon as he became a Navy Man he stopped drinking and always believed in good form, Pirates were the epitome of bad form.”

Milah shakes her head. “No stop that. You don’t know what your death did to him. He told me the reason he became a pirate is because how could a King send his best men on a mission that had such dark consequences, he would never serve under the rule of such a cruel man. He would not let you become a victim of the King, he didn’t want the man who sent him there to die and speak crap about what a fine captain he was and what a tragic accident it was.”

“So you’re saying he became a Pirate because of me?” Liam was having a hard time understanding how the most noble man he knew would live a life like that when they had worked so hard for their position.

“I met Killian only a few years ago, and by then he had made a name for himself in the lands. But once I got to know him, I understood he was a broken man who drank away his sorrows. He mentioned you to me but he mainly buried what happened to you inside, bottling up his emotions so he seemed hard-faced and scary to others. But not to me.” She explains. “He idolizes you, always believing you were the best man he ever knew and how could he ever live up to that. But it was the anger over what happened to you which forced him into the situation he was in, he made a statement as the King had to scramble to find a new Navy and a new ship.”

Liam smiles at the thoughts of their so-called great King realising his navy men were now a band of Pirates and convincing the people it was fine and explaining to trade leaders why he needed a new ship and a brand new legion. “Our terrible King paid a dear price for his wicked plans, I guess it’s what they call karma.”

“We were happy, Killian and I. He was happy, his men commented they hadn’t seen him like that since you died.” Milah tells Liam. That’s all she would want to know about Bae, if he was happy.

“I’m glad he was able to move on and find love. And I’m just sad it didn’t last.”

“He will be happy again. It’ll take time but I’m sure he can find what he has with me with someone else.” Milah wasn’t cruel, she wants Killian to find love again someday with someone special- he doesn’t deserve to be alone forever.

______

While Milah stops coming to the bar every day, they still keep in touch and give each other updates if someone new arrives who knows Killian.

“Captain Liam. What a sight for sore eyes you are!” Miller, a former crewmate of Liam and Killian arrives one day, explains he was killed by someone called a Lost Boy, another Pirate. “Your brother is a fine captain, Hook may be a Pirate but you’d be proud of him.”

“Hook?” Liam asks.

Miller looks confused for a second before realising, “Oh I forgot he got the hook after you died!”

Turns out the Dark One cut off Killian’s hand and in Pirate fashion he replaced it with a hook, so now he’s ‘Captain Hook.’ Well at least he now knew to listen out for Captain Hook when new arrivals came.

And sure enough this worked out, though he wasn’t fond of some of the stories he heard.

“Did you hear there will be a curse?” Milah says to Liam one day.

Liam shakes his head, he doesn't like to hear too much of what is going on up there, he’s only interested in his brother.

“There’s an evil witch or someone who is planning on cursing everyone in the Enchanted Forest and placing them in her own personal hell.” Milah explains, she leaves out the rumours her ex husband is involved. “They say they will be frozen in time for 28 years until a saviour comes.”

“28 years? That means-“

Milah finishes his thoughts, “28 years frozen in time means nobody comes down here and we are in the dark about Killian.”

Liam sighs, it had been a few hundred years in the world upstairs, and they had learnt Killian was in Neverland, a place where nobody ages. But they had learnt so much about him and were hoping to find out more, but this curse was a setback.

_____

They know the curse has broken when people start entering the Underworld. Also turns out the town where the curse put them was based off the Underworld.

At first they don’t hear much about Killian, or “Hook”. Until one day.

“They took the Saviour’s son. Hook lent his ship to the Hero’s, they’re going after them.”

Not too long after, a face Liam would recognise anywhere shows up. The boy who led them to the dreamshade. And he is joined by the Dark One himself.

“I’m not ready to face him.” Milah tells Liam.

“It’s okay, he’s the only one who knows about my brother. I shall keep your name out of it.”

“Well if it isn’t the one handed Pirate’s brother.” The Dark One says when he enters the pawn shop, which he apparently owns in the cursed land. He’d never met the man before, but supposedly he was all knowing.

“You’re the only person who can tell me about my brother. Please I mean no threat.” It wasn’t his place to defend Milah, he also did not wish to anger the Dark One.

The Dark One sighs. “I met your brother when he was a Pirate and I was a man with no power. He beat me in a duel when I was still powerless, so it was an unfair advantage. Many years later we met again and I cut off his hand as I thought that’s where a magic bean was but alas he tricked me. The Pirate hid in Neverland for a couple hundred years to get revenge. But I will say your brother has changed while in Storybrooke, he’s in love with the Saviour who hasn’t quite admitted she feels the same just yet. But he’s changed his tune, he may be a Pirate but he’s working on being a hero.”

Liam smiles, his little brother has found love? And a hero. This woman he was in love with- a saviour, the one who was destined to break the curse? Not admitting her feelings for him, sounds like the perfect match for the ‘womaniser’ that he had rumoured to be.

“He’s on the side of the heros.” He tells Milah that night at the bar when she was sure she was not going to run into her ex.

“You’re not serious?” Milah couldn’t believe it, Killian was working on the good side?

“Dark one confirmed it himself. He also, um,” Liam begins to tell her about how he found love, but isn’t sure how she would take to it.

“What? What is it” Milah can tell he’s hesitating, not wanting to tell her something, wait. “He’s found someone-hasn't he?”

Liam nods.

Milah lets out a soft laugh, “It’s okay that he found love again. I’m not so daft to wait 500 years for him to return. Killian is not my unfinished business, my son is. Tell me about the woman he’s found.”

___

And so Liam wonders about this woman his little brother had fallen in love with. He imagines she’s strong and feisty, like he remembers his mother was, and doesn’t put up with his brother's cockiness he inherited from their father.

Killian was always destined for great things and it sounds like he is finally on the path for this greatness. He tries to listen out for little things here and there when new people start arriving, but he wants to hear it himself when he eventually does see his brother again. Although he hopes it won’t be for a very long time, he wants to hear how his brother fell in love and started a family, giving his kids a better childhood than the two of them had.

But unfortunately one day, sooner than expected, he does overhear

“Captain Hook is here.”

He arrives at the blue house by the water, it’s grand and beautiful. Knocking at the door was the hardest thing he ever had to do, but a blonde woman dressed in white opens the door, this must be the saviour.

He doesn’t know what he will say to her, does he say thank you for being the woman his brother needs? Or does he just introduce himself and hope Killian isn’t too far away.

“Hi can I-“ she begins, but that’s when he sees him standing behind her,

“Killian!” 300 years of waiting, looking a lot older and dressed in modern black leather, his little brother was finally here.

#Liam jones #killian jones #jones brothers #ouat ff #fanfic #my writing

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mc-critical · 3 years ago

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I was curious since you were just talking about Suleyman sisters. Which one is your favourite and what would you change in their storylines? (Me: I would Sah being in love with Ibrahim and her and Hürrem being enemies, because I truly someone from the imperial family liked Hürrem)

I honestly love all of them. Even though they all share a similar purpose in the narrative on the outset (that is, being antagonists to Hürrem), they have distinct motivations and personalities that always succeed to make them so interesting to analyze.

Despite of that, I have to say that my favourite is Hatice. She's the one who felt most fleshed out, with the widest arrays of personality and relationships and I sympathize with her in nearly every level. While I know that S03 Hatice could turn people off and I could understand why in theory (good flanderization is still flanderization after all and her "Heel Face Turn" could feel underwhelming after Hü's huge E63 victory and it lowkey makes for kind of a soft reset of the show's status-quo, but not only I haven't seen this actually being used in arguments against her, but this is solely a writing problem that didn't even originate from her and wasn't totally fixed until the end.), I felt this was the most logical step in her arc and her development made complete sense, no matter how flanderizing it was and how tragic it ended up being. [poor Hatice :(] I have analyzed her character and why I love her so much as well in more detail here.

The one thing I would change is, again, her spending more time with Osman and Huricihan. The need of having kids was set up as a very important part of her character from the beggining and Osman and Huricihan's birth could've felt as a new wave of hope after the devastating child losses. It felt like they were the start of an entirely new chapter of her life where she could enjoy the company of her kids the way she so wanted to, but the birth of Huricihan and Osman ended up being only the finale of Hatice's worries over her children, a satisfying end to these arcs of hers where she could finally find happiness at last and with this it was over. It wasn't built on at all and this whole angle of Hatice's character was seemingly dropped just like that. While I get that her storyline was very densely packed and they may not have had time, they could've given us a few scenes at the very least, especially in S03B where they would play part in empowering even more Hatice's tragic arc, being a reminder of Ibrahim. Not to mention that Huricihan would've been a much better character if that set-up existed.

I adore Şah Sultan, as well and I actually enjoy her dynamic with Hatice even more than her dynamic with Hürrem, because it tells us much more about who she is. It was so enjoyable to watch these two sisters confront each other on not so few instances, while still loving each other. I love how Şah's ambition contrasts so well with her genuine care for the people she loves (like Hatice and Esmahan) and how her pragmatism could actually get in the way of that care, while we could still see that the two coexist in her regardless. It makes her motivation so interesting to figure out in a way we haven't seen before or after with any other character. Her love for Ibrahim.. while yes, I get that it may seem a little weird, putting so much stuff in their past into another context that could draw the line between "this makes sense" and "how exactly did that happen?", it explains why Şah may have this deep seated resentment to Hatice, it is a nicely used plot-device to drive conflict between them (the conflict set-up in their past that is outside of their clash of ideals and philosophies in the present and near future) and her and Lütfi later. It makes her more interesting, too, because it shows her ability to let go of her feelings when she sees is necessary. Her approach is also very interesting and unique (at least at first) and while I find most of her scenes with Hürrem generic, she was a formidable and effective antagonist. I also find interesting that in rewatch, you do see that out of her and Hatice, it's Şah who is more elitist, interestingly enough. (because while Hatice mostly pulls rank out of ignorance or when she's challanged outright, Şah pulls rank not only in confrontation, but in casual conversations with people around her, as well - E87 is a perfect example of this. She also views the dynasty as something even more valuable that shouldn't ever be touched - her not wanting to fight Mihrimah in the end, even though I'm sure she could've outsmarted her if she truly wanted to, she wanted the most out of anyone in S03B for the dynasty members to have each other's backs and support each other no matter what and she was as ready as Hatice to stand behind what the dynasty represents, but not on a more personal level like Hatice, rather on standing behind its laws and traditions, like Ayşe Hafsa.)

What I would change with her, is that intrigue of hers that succeeded to have Hürrem be exiled for the third time. There's nothing wrong with the intrigue neither writing-wise, nor with Şah's character in it, and I kinda appreciate Hürrem's overspending there as a parallel to Mahidevran's overspending in S02, showing that they're not so different after all in a bunch of cases. But otherwise, the whole thing felt like pointless filler that only repeats some aspect of previous storylines. Yet another harem riot, though not as large in scale, and that almost contrived exile, which served nothing in the end (except for showing how Hürrem has gained a decent network of political allies, but that was shown before the exile, too). I would probably make it a far more complex, but still to the point intrigue, the outcome of which sure wouldn't be another exile for an episode. This also wouldn't have been the ending culmination of Şah's careful plans against Hürrem, either. (Ayaz Pasha's death afterwards was relatively quickly planned in comparison! Like.. c'mon..)

Fatma is my least favourite sister of the sisters, but she certainly has her moments. I love her debut and I love how fun loving she is, I sorta wish we saw even more of that. I actually don't recall a moment where Fatma ever pulled rank on someone in the way Hatice in E26 did and Şah so casually does and if there truly isn't any moment like that, then I love her even more for it. What is even more interesting is how her motivation is a promise made to Mustafa (even though this whole motivation is kinda strange writing-wise, since she's an entirely new character and the devotion to Mustafa could look like something the writers only came up with in the heat of the moment for S04A's bad use of flashbacks and to make yet another antagonist for Hürrem... Fatma could've been next to Mustafa when he was a child in Manisa and she liked him as a child, who knows? That coupled with Mahidevran probably reminding him of Fatma's existence, as well.) and how far she's going to go to fulfill it, even after his death. It all showed a side of hers that is willing to put the dynasty members in intrigue (the way she put Selim and Bayezid against one another and even when she played that game on Mihrimah), an interesting contrast with the other sisters, who would do anything but, at least not so consciously. (I'm referring to Şah's very first scheme against Hürrem, in E85-6) I love how she scolded Mihrimah in E121 and I love how they showed her sorrow for Mustafa's death. (that little scene where she said: "I failed.." was so touching, honestly... It shows how devoted she was to it all) Her relationship with Kara Ahmet is also pretty great.

What I would change with her, is her part in the menopause plot. The episode itself is such a weird and tonal mess, but Fatma there was at her worst and I don't agree with her making fun of Hürrem like this. I get the purpose of the episode and scene, but it still sits wrong with me and since that was our first episode with Fatma, it rendered her a little petty for me when I was first watching. I wouldn't have had Fatma tell it out loud for everyone to hear, I would've probably made her show Hürrem she knew in a confrontation similar to Hürrem and Mahidevran's (hey, a part of their formula could work for once!) between both of them during the entertainment. I would have also given her a little more balanced screentime. In some episodes it was very fine, but in others, it felt like she was more shoved into the background.

About Hürrem having at least one dynasty member to like Hürrem - I agree, it would be a breath of fresh air, to say the least, there should've been this kind of variety. If there is one I would make a friend of Hürrem's (at the most part), that would be Beyhan.

I would have given her more screentime, especially in S01-2, she could be there to advice and support her sisters even more and for them to calm down from the games and intrigues. She wouldn't play such a big role in the story, aside from an arc or two that would be different from working against Hürrem. Her and Hürrem would be usually on good terms, since her emotional maturity would let her understand at least a bit of her side of the story and wouldn't be so quick to accuse her. (as she wasn't when she learned of how Hatice learned about Nigar and Ibrahim) Beyhan can't be fully on board with her, of course, because moments where Hürrem tramples on Hatice's happiness directly or indirectly could put them at odds, but I feel Beyhan's personality and shtick would be the best suited for a friendship with Hürrem of sorts. Since she still wouldn't be part of the throne war, Hürrem would have no reasons to act against her personally, either. (now, S03B could be a problem, but then we could... have her return to her castle permanetly?) It would've been epic if Şah had only her dynamic with Hatice in the story, but I don't think that alone would be enough for the writers, because they sure were searching for someone to replace Ibrahim as a more prominent antagonist until S04's switch of focus and enrichment of storylines.

#magnificent century #muhteşem yüzyıl #muhtesem yuzyil #hatice sultan #sah sultan #beyhan sultan #fatma sultan #ask #librarian-witchling

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orsuliya · 4 years ago

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This part (4 of who knows how many) of my Awu/Xiao Qi married headcanons resembles nothing more that a dying whale full of confused feelings. Which is exactly what I would swiftly turn to left alone with this drama without @madeleineengland’s continuous friendship and support. What I actually want to say is: Happy Birthday, my dear! I am thankful to have met you. I hope you like this instalment, even if I couldn’t quite manage to fit in a kneeling Song Huaien. Sorry!

There are some things that no woman can choose for herself. Some things simply happen – or not – as they please with no regard to wishful thinking or social status. A princess or a gravedigger’s daughter, a young maiden or a stately matron, none can simply will themselves pregnant, no matter how many prayers have left their lips and how many offerings have graced the altars, set there by gentle hands yearning to hold a living, breathing child instead of a bowl of rice or a stick of precious incense.

And yet, no matter how many times she whispers this truth to herself in the middle of the night, Xiao Qi’s broad hand resting on her lower belly in a sincere attempt to soothe the twinges of pain that come every single month without fail, there are still moments when Awu cannot help feeling as if she’s failing in the worst of ways. Not failing her husband, for until the day she dies she will never forget the truth shining in his eyes, still fever-bright from Wang Qian’s vile mixture despite the self-inflicted blood loss. And not even the twelve generations of Wang Empresses. After all, hadn’t she courted their disapproval already by choosing to walk through life hand in hand with her husband instead of living torn in half until her very last breath? No, the person whom she fails is always herself.

And in her mind she fails a lot. There is a bitter taste on her tongue as she pushes Xiao Qi’s wise, warm hand off her abdomen and rises from their shared bed to stand at the window, throwing open the shutters and trying to breathe, even as the feeling of warm blood pooling between her thighs makes her remember her first and worst failure, committed right in the middle of the palace courtyard. There were pamphlets, she knows, vicious, cruel rumours of how she bled her baby out from sheer disgust of having been bred by a man born nobody knows of whom and where. Only after every wagging tongue had already been silenced with a cloak of red silk set around her shoulders, did she realize that half the court must have been tittering excitedly over the prospect of seeing the proud Wang daughter set aside and brought as low as she had once sat high. And they hadn’t been kind about it, going as far as to comment that her swift appearance at the scene of the coup must have been motivated by her eagerness to be rid of her spouse as the balance of power finally shifted. Fools, what blind, base-minded fools all those high-born courtiers – many of them her distant kin – have turned out to be!

Princess Shangyang wouldn’t have felt such dark, all-consuming anger. Princess Shangyang, as Awu has learned in all her years as Princess Yuzhang, had been something of a fool, a bird kept in a gilded cage, encouraged to sing and chirp happily regardless of how the bars of that cage withered her wings. It was only later that this caged songbird discovered that she was no songbird at all, but a bird of prey. And like a bird of prey Awu wishes she had known of every single salacious rumour – but only so that she could tear their originators to shreds for using her poor never-born first child for their own vicious purposes, for making a spectacle out of her – their – pain.

In her anger she barely notices how her fingers have curled tightly over the windowsill… at least until big, calloused hands descend onto hers and she finds herself cradled in Xiao Qi’s loose, yet strangely grounding embrace. For a moment she wishes to slip away, to escape and simply be angry, no matter how futile it may be after so many years… And had he tried to lead her back to bed, had he spoken a single word, she might have done just that, but there is only silence between them. Only slightly unreal, moonlight-washed silence and Awu feels the flames of her anger sputter and go out, leaving only bitter, choking ash of regret.

Yet there is one kernel of failure she can exorcise right here and now for both of their sakes, even if it can never be made right in this life. If I have children of my blood, she says, allowing herself to let go of the magical ‘when’ this one time, seeing them entered into the Xiao family book would bring me greater honour and joy than if they were feted as princes and princesses of the first rank. And maybe after a moment she feels the need to explain further, to say that she would have been honoured to act as a filial daughter-in-law to his parents, no matter their birth and status, but before she can get out a word, he manages to catch her off-guard. Not with a kiss to the side of her neck, that much she has come to expect always, but rather with his quiet, sleepily tender reply: Before we get to filling any pages, we need to have a book in the first place. Help me with that in the morning? And what can she do in response to that except hum in agreement and lean backwards?

____________________________________

Some things simply happen – or not – as they please. Which does not mean one should not help them along in any way that comes to mind. Or several minds, as it happens in this case.

Doctor Shen, however wise and famous, is far from the only – or even the best – available authority on the matters of female body, partially due to not being of female persuasion himself. Unlike, for example, his assistant and niece Shen Yunxin, an aspiring female doctor in her own right. Once that accomplished, if rather young lady managed to make herself heard, she swiftly rose in Xiao Qi’s regard, and would have done so for her gumption alone, even if her medical skills hadn’t been excellent in the first place. Shen Yunxin, skipping the dancing-around that most of her male colleagues invariably tended to degrade to in the presence of any person of power, rather daringly announced that perhaps instead of concentrating solely on curing Awu’s infertility – and thank you, the acupuncture treatments she herself administers every week are going just as planned – they should perhaps focus on the picture as a whole. That is, after all, what a doctor should look at first, right? Especially as there is no material proof of Xiao Qi’s high fertility. The ‘or is there now?’ part remained unspoken; even though Shen Yunxin came to like her primary patient a lot and had her own reasons to distrust men and their promises, she – this time and always – held to the standards of professional behaviour.

Awu, for her part, really enjoys seeing Xiao Qi drinking bitter herbal concoctions of his own. Even if she might not be all that convinced by Shen Yunxin’s words, it surely cannot hurt anything. And why should she be the only one to suffer under a tyrannical medical regime? What’s good for the goose is good for the gander. And if in truth Xiao Qi doesn’t mind the taste at all, who would blame him for exaggerating a little for his wife’s amusement? Certainly not his wife, who has seen through his play-acting at once and swiftly decided that there is something to this mouth-to-mouth method of feeding particularly vile medicines to recalcitrant patients.

And yet Shen Yunxin isn’t the only fount of knowledge to be found in Ningshuo and, truth be told, has shown much interest in the secrets of folk medicine herself, especially as practiced by Alima’s kinswomen. Although some of those women, in particular Alima’s crone of a grandmother, have proven astonishingly… direct and rather shameless with their advice, to the tune of making a fully-fledged practitioner and an old married woman such as Awu, both of them hardly prone to prudishness, blush like girls not yet through their hair-pinning ceremonies. Or perhaps the advice was actually fine and tamer that one might expect. The enthusiastic appreciation that Alima’s kinswomen seem to hold for Xiao Qi, however, could probably fluster anybody, much less the man’s wife!

____________________________________

It is not entirely out of the realm of possibility that Awu decided to follow the kindly-meant advice of Alima’s grandmother. After all, the woman had successfully given birth to nine babies and gotten eight of them to adulthood, which would make anybody pay attention. Perhaps there is something to be said for the value of hard-won experience? And perhaps it was Shen Yunxin’s acupuncture skills that helped in the end, or even her insistence to look at the greater picture first. Or Doctor Shen’s bitter tinctures, or Xiao Qi’s unwavering, ah, helpfulness. Or possibly the fact that Awu finally decided that what will be will be and threw herself with doubled energy into the whirlpool of domestic concerns… which are truly never-ending, if one counts an entire province as one’s home.

Whatever the cause, Awu eventually achieved her goal… And yet she was among the last ones to actually suspect anything, the first being Xiao Qi and A-Yue, who had informed Doctor Shen and Shen Yunxin respectively, after having noticed some rather peculiar changes. A lady’s maid knows her mistress better than her own husband, although in this case, with the husband being an exceptionally affectionate one, that might not ring quite so true. Incidentally, the symptom that both of them had noticed was Awu’s sudden heightened sense of smell combined with a rather noticeably expressed aversion to her previously favourite perfume, which, you must admit, is a rather worrying sign.

As it turns out, both the uncle and niece had a good idea of Awu’s state, going by her last bleeding being more of a spotting than anything else – and you may bet Shen Yunxin monitors that closely – and yet they remained unable to fully ascertain their suspicions without any clear accompanying signs, nor were they willing to give any early hope, which may later be dashed. In fact, Doctor Shen would have preferred to avoid any agitation whatsoever for at least a week or two more, having had difficult experiences with this patient in particular, but one look at Prince Yuzhang’s face had him rethink that plan. Had Hu Guanglie been there – or alive in the first place – he would have immediately recognized that expression as Xiao Qi getting ready for battle, which he is quite sure he can win… but not entirely sure, with his doubt rising with every hour of there being no news of enemy movements. But even an amateur would be immediately wary of this sudden tension, for all that it might be hidden under an impressive facade of pretended calm. And Doctor Shen, after thirty years of practicing medicine among the upper echelons of Cheng nobility and staying alive – which is no mean feat – has learned to be quite sensitive to his powerful employers’ moods. As a survival tactic, if nothing else.

Another important skill, which Doctor Shen hasn’t yet imparted onto his niece, is judging when and where a doctor’s presence might be wanted... and when and where it is most certainly not needed. Pulling Shen Yunxin from the room by her sleeve might seem like a rather abrupt reaction, but it was by no means unjustified. Some things are simply not meant to be seen by outsiders. Prince and Princess Yuzhang facing each other and simply looking into each other’s eyes in perfect, tremulously joyful silence before the Princess lets out a hiccuping laugh and hides her suspiciously shining eyes against her husband’s collarbone is certainly one of those.

____________________________________

Xiao Qi’s first emotion after hearing the news is joy, then absolute panic – as far as that man ever panics, that is – and then steely determination most usually reserved for military planning. Having heard one word too many about miscarriage being a real possibility this early on makes him frantic and this in turn means that something really, really foolish is about to happen. Something like riding for the capital with only ten thousand troops. Something like going into Hulan alone. Something like dealing ungodly amounts of damage and letting his hair fly loose. Hu Guanglie would call this state a silence before mass decapitation. Were he there and alive, that is. Thankfully Hu Yao is both alive and there (deal with it, people!) and manages to redirect this thrumming energy into something actually constructive, which is probably the only thing that saves Awu and Xiao Qi from having an epic row over a series of very unreasonable ideas. Like, for example, shutting Awu in her rooms in the middle of Ningshuo Fortress and standing guard over her until the baby is born.

Meanwhile, Awu’s behaviour couldn’t be more different from that exhibited by her very own husband. Now that her years of continuous disappointment are over, she refuses to even consider that something might go wrong. At least not during waking hours, when she’s surrounded by a steady throng of people and children; and there is no way she would ever agree to being imprisoned in her rooms, although she agrees to retiring at the first sign of true fatigue and actually keeps her word, which causes her to share more than one nap in the middle of the day with little Song Guanglie. Which, in turn, makes for a pretty mellow Princess, especially right after she rises.

Which is exactly why this is the exact moment the brilliant tactician Hu Yao chooses to inform Awu that her fool of a husband (even if she doesn’t use exactly those words, she means exactly that) has evaporated with a troop of six into direction unknown, which may or may not be Hu Yao’s fault. Awu confirms that yes, Xiao Qi came in as she slept, woke her up briefly and said something about going on a short trip, promising to return as swiftly as possible. The look on Hu Yao’s face is rather telling and a tiny bit guilty.

That little overnight trip? Hu Yao is reasonably certain it is a hunt for something big and impressive. A local variety of wolf? A big feline of unfriendly persuasion? Probably not Hulan raiders, such as they are those days; she is rather insistent on that last point and for a good reason. That reason being that Xiao Qi had been making things strangely tense in the training yards, which are Hu Yao’s rightful domain, and so she decided to get rid of him by asking about preparations for the birth, no matter that the happy event may be six months away yet, and describing in great detail the extent of the prospective father’s involvement in those.

And seeing as it’s paramount – for future good fortune and the safety of both the mother and the baby – that no products of the birth are allowed to touch the ground, hence the need to provide a layer of ash, rushes or perhaps a cow’s skin as is the case in the wealthier families of Hu Yao’s acquitance, and taking into account that Xiao Qi has never done things by halves, his plan is rather obvious. Awu doesn’t know whether to feel strangely amused, immensely flattered and touched… or perhaps increasingly annoyed by losing her bedmate for such paltry a cause. For the moment she chooses option one, if only because amusement helps her forget about any apprehension the word ‘hunt’ might be causing her for rather obvious reasons. She will hold her judgement on options two and three until she sees the result of Xiao Qi’s bout of paternal madness.

The hero of the hour returns four days later, impossibly smug and with a bloody enormous salted pelt of a great brown mountain bear. Which he will then proceed to cure himself, because why wouldn’t he. Awu doesn’t have the words for what she’s feeling. Exasperation? Fond exasperation? A sudden onset of unexpected horniness? And I mean really unexpected, because bears smell and she’s still not over her olfactory oversensitivity. But mainly a burst of love and womanly pride. Sure, her man might be a fool, but he’s her fool and… I mean, it is a really big bear. Very, very impressive, if one was prone to being impressed by such things. Which Awu usually doesn’t find herself to be… Oh, who is she even trying to fool?

____________________________________

Xiao Qi has made something of a study of his wife’s body, which she had always been cognizant of to a certain degree. So it’s rather hard to say that it comes as a surprise that he’s able to tell when she begins to show even before she herself does – and she shows very early due to her general slimness. All the other things, however, are somewhat more out of the left field.

Like how he starts to send Awu’s maids out every time he catches one of them with a comb even before she confesses that somehow her scalp became really, really sensitive and in a rather peculiar way. Which he has apparently noticed and decided to take shameless advantage off, especially as the pleasure is mutual; Awu’s hair has become somehow both thicker and softer, a true delight to touch for a person as tactile as Xiao Qi.

Or how he suddenly stops going after Awu’s earlobes to her sincere confusion and irritation. She liked it, dammit, and what Awu wants, Awu gets, so the next time his mouth appears anywhere in the vicinity of her neck, Xiao Qi finds himself rather brusquely pointed at the desired target. The problem is, upon his acquiescence Awu finds it not as pleasurable as all that and really rather painful, her ears apparently having become rather sensitive practically overnight. By which point she has no other choice but to demand how had he guessed before she realized this about herself. His answer turns out to be rather disarming: You haven’t worn a single pair of dangly earrings for half a month.

The worst thing is, he is absolutely right. Every single time, which at the beginning causes no little exasperation, especially when Awu’s body starts rapidly changing and sometimes she feel like she hardly knows what she even looks like anymore. Is that pale, drawn face in the mirror actually hers? Why are her eyebrows suddenly so pale and whispy? And has she always had dark patches on the underside of her breasts? As time passes, all those other changes start looking less and less dire, having taken second fiddle to the most important thing of them all: a growing, living child nestled between her hipbones, which have lost all pretense of sharpness during those last few months. And so she starts asking questions. Not to fish for compliments – she truly cannot complain of a shortage of those – but out of true curiosity. What have you noticed that I haven’t? Show me.

And he does show her, claiming and re-claiming every inch of her skin as it changes and there is not a single moment in which she does not feel beautiful, or wanted, or loved, even when she’s absolutely miserable and sick, and bloated. Although she calls him a liar the one time he truly earns it by announcing her stitches on the newest piece in the increasingly elaborate layette to be the height of perfection despite them being crooked and all over the place due to her suddenly clumsy fingers. But just as he is her guide to her own body, she is his and there is little that she finds herself unable to complain of.

It’s their journey, their child, perhaps their only chance at this miracle and she absolutely refuses to hide, especially as her time comes near. Refuses to hide both literally and metaphorically, spending hours upon hours of increasingly warm, stuffy summer evenings laying naked on top of the covers and drawing nonsensical labyrinths upon her own skin with the tips of her fingers, every line closely followed by eager eyes, calloused hands or gentle lips; every single tap or movement from within met with genuine fascination and something not quite unlike worship.

____________________________________

There has hardly been a military campaign that involved more meticulous planning than the birth of this one tiny child, Ningshuo’s first princeling. Taught by Wanru’s premature experience with childbirth, both Awu and Xiao Qi remain rather wary of any fixed dates. The child will come when it will come, rather like the enemy, announces Xiao Qi, stopping the rather spirited discussion between the womenfolk about the necessity of early preparation and earning himself a fiery glare from Awu for using such inappropriate comparisons. By which I mean there is little to be done aside from observing the terrain and getting ready for an ambush, which may or may not come at any time, he explains, trying to mollify Awu and enclose her into his self-imposed bubble of confidence, usually reserved for use upon soldiers on the verge of panic, which is exactly what this discussion of premature birth has brought into their home.

And you know what, it actually helps, if only a little. Enough to take Awu’s mind off the possible complications and redirect her nervous energy into consulting with the astronomy charts and then choosing an appropriately situated side room, setting up curtains around the bed to serve as a birthing tent and getting that blasted bearskin out of storage. Which process they will ultimately go through four times, as the star charts – and thus best orientations – keep changing every month. And which neither of them will begrudge, as every single time they move the birthing tent Awu grows just a tiny bit more confident in the success of the upcoming labour and also more attuned to her own needs. At the very last milestone – during which she is comically enormous, but no less able to give out commands – she is an absolute nightmare, having everyone running around to and fro as well as throwing an absolute fit over the birthing rope, which she has agreed to previously.

Doctor Shen, being a great believer in getting his clients through labour alive and having a long-standing grudge against the usual way of birthing practiced in the Imperial Palace – which means supine, surrounded by a crowd of panicking women and with the doctor hardly able to see the patient in order to preserve their chastity – instills a certain regime, which is perfectly in accord with the traditional ways dictated by medical practitioners of old. By which he means peace, no more that two calm attendants at one time and letting gravity do part of the work; the last thing meaning that a length of rope or cloth should be suspended from the ceiling or perhaps stretched between two pillars at at appropriate height, so that the mother can support herself while kneeling or squatting.

In Awu’s case the arrangement changes from a hanging horse bridle – which while a show of status and a portent of good fortune proved to be not that comfortable after all – to a length of silk, to a rope stretched between two pillars. Which apparently doesn’t suit Awu any longer, not providing her with a steady enough support. While A-Yue and Alima keep tying and retying the rope to Awu’s continuous disapproval and even irritation, Xiao Qi doesn’t get involved. Yes, partially because in contrast to everybody else he doesn’t find his heavily pregnant wife a nightmare to deal with. Adorable, more like, the man is that hopeless. And partially because as long as Awu acts out on her irritation, she’s not getting apprehensive or despondent. So let her rage to her heart’s content. Now, the moment she goes silent and perhaps a little bit bashful over her previous outburst, he decides it’s high time for an intervention. Any intervention, even an absurd one. Which means that he disappears for a moment and brings back his spear, which he then secures in place of the rope to the growing disconcernment of everybody present. Awu finds it steady enough for her needs and it’s not like anything else matters.

Seeing as she goes into labour the very next day and finds herself properly appreciative of this improvised solution, Xiao Qi can’t find it in himself to really mind the rapidly growing slew of jokes and ditties starting to make rounds, although he makes a point of trouncing the most intrepid joker rather soundly. Or perhaps five of those, not that he’s in the right mindset to actually keep count once the entrance to the birthing room is barred to him. Before it is, there is still time to tell Awu– not for the last time, this isn’t going to be the last time! - of her bravery, of how only now does he start to truly appreciate what it means to send a loved one into battle and of how they’re going to carry this moment through their whole lives. You’re Princess Yuzhang, you will come back with a victory, hale and whole. You will always come back, he whispers into her hair, not sure who is he actually trying to convince as he hold his entire world in his arms, desperately trying to hide his fear. And failing miserably, which Awu cannot help but notice… once she gets through the current set of contractions. Don’t you dare to be a coward now, my Prince Yuzhang, she scolds, resting her sweaty forehead against his chin. Don’t you bloody dare. I have asked for this and I don’t take upon myself what I cannot carry. And now get out and let me fight my war. You know what I’m capable of.

And by all gods, he knows. And this steely determination in her voice scares him as little has ever scared him before. This time, unlike every other time when she’s risked her life this bravely, there will be nothing he can do to help her, no miraculous rescue, no last-minute shot, no hand ready to break her fall. Has he been too greedy, he ponders, only by a miracle avoiding skewering Tang Jing straight through the gut and then actually earning a light graze from Hu Yao’s blade. Useless, she pronounces, confiscating their weapons and hurrying both men off the training field. Absolutely useless. Go and do whatever it is that men actually busy themselves with while women do all the work.

It turns out that what men actually do in highly stressful situations is sharpen their swords as well as any other blade they may encounter. They are joined in this endeavour by Xiaohe, who will later be unilaterally – and wholly unfairly – blamed for each and every single skewed edge. Of which there will be quite a few. But then, what does an imperfect sword or ten actually matter, when after long hours of absolute hell, during which Xiao Qi has imagined at least five different worst scenarios ending in a pool of blood – just like that terrible day – and prayed to all the gods he has ever heard of, A-Yue finally comes, her wide smile speaking for itself.

#the rebel princess #monarch industry #Awu and XQ headcanon time #and unto us a child is born #although the aftermath must wait #this was getting a bit too long and me a bit too weepy #I am an absolute disgrace of a human being #oh well #HAPPY BIRTHDAY MADELEINEENGLAND #also I might have read a book about childbirth in ancient China #it was full of dead babies but on the whole very interesting

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wafflesandkruge · 4 years ago

Text

a nighttime visitor (zenya)

Or a nighttime visit leads to an unexpected confession.

@grishaverseonline valentine’s gift exchange for @thefirsttailor

ao3

Of all of Genya’s nighttime visitors, Zoya Nazyalensky surely was the most unexpected. But not the most unwelcome. Genya looked up from where she was sprawled on her bed and blinked twice, convinced she was seeing things. But unless there was another stunningly gorgeous Squaller her age she hadn’t yet met, that was Zoya herself standing in her doorway, the special scowl she reserved just for Genya pasted on her face. Saints, Genya wished she’d get wrinkles from always pulling those ugly faces at her. She ran a hand over her hair to make it look presentable before sliding off the coverlet to her feet.

“Why are you here? It’s past midnight, you’ll get in trouble.” Not to mention the fact that you hate me. She quickly crossed the room and closed the door behind the other girl. She didn’t need the entire palace to be gossiping about her any more than they already did. This close, she could see the dark smudges under Zoya’s eyes, the wrinkles in her kefta she’d obviously tried to smooth out before walking in. It was the least perfect she’d ever seen her, but instead of satisfaction at seeing Zoya brought low, all Genya felt was concern. Which was concerning in and of itself.

Zoya didn’t answer, instead fidgeting with the cuffs of her kefta. Her scowl was still firmly in place, but her eyes didn’t have their usual defiant spark. Genya tried to keep her concern off her face. She shoved her hands into her sleeves to prevent herself from reaching out and Tailoring away the dark circles. It’d been nearly a month since they’d shared a drunken kiss in a dark garden after a holiday party and ever since then, Zoya had avoided her like the plague. Like if she became associated with Genya, she’d be ruined. How else was Genya supposed to understand that?

“Some of us lowly mortals need to have their beauty sleep. If you’re just going to stand there like a statue, kindly see yourself out.” The words came out harsh. Genya did her best to look down her nose at Zoya, but the other girl didn’t meet her gaze. Instead, her eyes swept over Genya’s room, the white kefta draped over the bed, then Genya herself. Genya couldn’t help but feel like she was judging how everything looked- how different it was from living in the Little Palace with all the other Grisha. After a few more moments of silent judgement, she tossed her hair over her shoulder, the most-Zoya like action she’d done all night.

“I was bored,” she announced. She didn’t offer any further elaboration. Genya raised a brow and took a seat on her divan. She could sense this was going to turn into a conversation. Or a fight. One never knew with her. Zoya remained standing, her shoulders tight with tension.

“And?”

If she had come here to seek some kind of distraction- Genya’s fingers curled, her nails digging into her palm. She was not something to be used and discarded at will. Zoya Nazyalensky could find some other poor sucker who could overlook her horrible personality for a few kisses.

“And I thought I would come see you.”

Genya laughed, and Zoya’s brows furrowed. Was she really that dense?

“You’ve barely even looked my way for the last month. And now you sneak into the palace in the middle of the night like you’re committing a crime” Once the words started, Genya couldn’t stop them. “Are you ashamed to be seen with me? Is that it? The prodigy can’t be tainted by the Tailor?”

Zoya looked as if she’d been struck. She shook her head slowly, her eyes wide. “No. No, it’s not like that. I just-”

“You just what?” Genya scoffed. “Wanted to prove you could have anyone and everyone?”

“You-” Zoya cut herself off, a frustrated expression on her face. “That’s not what I was doing.”

“Enlighten me, then.” She met Zoya’s gaze. She’d once spent hours trying to recreate that exact shade of blue with the powders in her kit, but like everything else about Zoya, it was irreplicable. And horrible.

Zoya took a seat at the end of the divan, the silks of their skirts brushing as Genya pulled her legs to her chest to make room for the other girl. For once, Zoya looked unsure of herself. Her fingers tugged at the fur of her cuffs, her eyes downcast as she opened her mouth, then closed it again.

“Well? Out with it,” Genya demanded. Saints, it was like trying to force a child to admit they’d stolen a sweet. She’d seen brick walls less stubborn than Zoya. At least brick walls weren’t impossibly pretty to the point of making her heart flutter every time she caught sight of them.

“I- I don’t know how to be around you,” Zoya finally said in a rush. A small breeze flitted about the room, making the candlelight flicker. “It’s confusing.”

“Confusing?” Genya repeated. “How so?”

Zoya looked like she’d rather swallow a frog than continue, but to her credit, she still ground out her next words. “To want. Rather than be wanted.”

“And what is it you want?” Genya asked in a near whisper, not daring to hope. Her nails dug into her palms hard enough that she knew they’d leave a mark later.

Zoya looked up sharply, a hint of her old spark returning to her eyes. “I think you can guess.”

“Oh.” A ridiculously giddy feeling blossomed within her, making her so light-headed she thought she’d float away. Should she reach out and take Zoya’s hand? Kiss her again? Both options seemed somehow too much and not enough for the moment. She tugged at the silk of her nightgown to occupy her hands, lest they be tempted to reach towards Zoya. She was sure her face was as red as her hair by now. “Well. In case you’re too dense to notice, the feeling is very much reciprocated.”

“I’m not dense,” Zoya muttered, but there was a visible flush across her cheeks that hadn’t been there before. Her body language mirrored Genya’s, like she was afraid of getting any closer. “But I thought you hated me.”

“You’re a very difficult person to like.”

Zoya flicked a strand of hair back over her shoulder. “Ridiculous. Everyone likes me.”

Genya wisely decided not to argue that point any further. “You still haven’t told me why you’re here, unless you came here with the sole intention of declaring your undying devotion for me?”

“Of course not.” Zoya pursed her lips, her fingers rubbing the silver amplifier around her wrist. “If you tell anyone about this, I will steal the air from your lungs, Safin.”

Genya snorted. “Sounds romantic.”

“It won’t be romantic when you’re flopping on the floor like a dying fish.”

“I like fish. Herring are particularly tasty.”

Zoya rolled her eyes, but finally answered Genya’s question. Her gaze was fixed on a nondescript point on the wall. “I...couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I was back there. On the Fold.”

Something in Genya’s brain finally clicked. A few weeks ago, there had been an excursion to Novokribirsk with some of the Second Army, the junior Grisha among them on their first crossing. She’d heard talk among the nobles, laughter and money exchanging hands on how many of them would make it back. So many didn’t. Her gaze snagged on the rank insignia on the front of Zoya’s kefta. She’d been there.

Slowly, Genya extended her hand so it rested on the divan between them, palm up. A peace offering. After a moment’s hesitation, Zoya intertwined her fingers with Genya’s. Her palm and the pads of her fingers were rough with callouses from her training. She rubbed small circles with her thumb on the back of Zoya’s hand.

“I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it?”

Zoya sighed. “No. Not really.”

“Do you want to stay?” she asked, anticipating what Zoya really meant.

Zoya’s chin dipped slightly, the barest of nods. “I can take the couch.”

“Don’t be silly,” Genya said as she got up and tugged on Zoya’s hand to get her to follow. “The bed is plenty big enough for both of us. As long as you don’t snore.”

Genya climbed under the covers and moved back until there was more than enough space for Zoya. The other girl kicked off her boots and unbuttoned her kefta, tossing both unceremoniously on the floor. She stood there at the foot of the bed in her thin undershirt and tights, seemingly contemplating. Genya rolled her eyes. She almost missed Zoya’s usual brashness and prickly demeanor.

“I don’t bite. Hurry up, I’m cold.”

Zoya crawled under the covers, but balanced so close to the edge of the bed that Genya could just reach over and push her off if she wanted. Not that she’d ever be that petty. She tossed the blanket over her. Then it was just them, their breathing in tandem, their eyes wide with the exhilaration of something new. Genya reached out her hand again, and this time, Zoya took it without hesitation.

“I’ll leave before dawn so no one will see,” Zoya promised. Her voice was a near whisper, unbearably intimate. Genya wondered how many other people had gotten to see Zoya like this, her black curls spilled across the pillow, her cheeks rosy. At least she could be confident that of all the people Zoya had shared a bed with, she was the prettiest. She held onto Zoya’s hand a little tighter and pulled her closer until their breaths mingled.

The warm candlelight made Zoya’s skin glow, her eyes brighter than any jewel Genya had ever seen. She was beautiful, a saint straight out of a storybook. And she was hers. A small smile curled on her lips.

“Let them talk.”

#hope you like it immy!#tgt #the grisha trilogy #tgt writing #zoya #genya #zenya #grishaverse #leigh bardugo #my writing #grishaverseonline #king of scars #this one was really hard to write yikes T-T

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teyvattherapist · 3 years ago

Note

Another one, set directly after the one where Sandrone finds Childe~ :)

Sandrone-- by a feat of miracle-- snuck Ajax into his Academy room and squirreled the boy away into the cramped bathroom while he snuck into the infirmary again to retrieve a first aid kit. When he returned, Ajax had stripped off his coat and scarf, leaving him in a shirt that was more holes than fabric and his bloodstained shorts. Wordlessly, Sandrone handed him an energy bar he'd swiped from the cafeteria and wetted a towel, rubbing away the dirt and grime that layered Ajax like a second skin. As the dirt washed away, the wounds were brought into stark relief. Hundreds of them, layered over each other and crisscrossing Ajax's skin like gaping mouths. Some were fully healed, nothing but thin, silvery lines. Others were an angry red and purple, bruised and swollen around the edges. All had clean cuts, suggesting an expert hand behind the blade. "Who did this?" Sandrone asked. He wasn't really expecting an honest answer, anyway. But Ajax was always one to surprise him. "The Abyss. I fell into a hole in the ground, and I was taken away to somewhere." "Was it scary?" Sandrone didn't look up from his ministrations, choosing to focus on the mangled mess that was Ajax's knees (how hard did he fall?) "It was," Ajax sighed dreamily. "But the things I saw down there... it spoke to me. The Abyss spoke to me, Sulien. It told me things that scared the everloving hell out of me, but I'm grateful to them." "Why?" Sandrone finally looked up. There were a hundred questions packed into that one word. Why are you still alright? Why are you thanking the Abyss? Why do you sound so different?

And from the bloodied fragments of Ajax's face, the eye of the Abyss stared back at him, milky and purple. Ajax smiled, a pristine tear in the mangled visage of a beast rebuilt from the ground up. "So I can protect you."

IM SCREAMING, ALMOND, THIS IS

KJFDSKJDFS??

SULIEN BEING A SNEAKY LIL SHIT IS SO TRUE, THAT'S JUST HOW HE WAS-

BUT THE SO I CAN PROTECT YOU?? SO I CAN PROTECT YOU!! OH MY GOSDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD. THE ?? JFDDF YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW!! I KNOW YOU DON'T KNOW THE LOFE, BUT THAT FITS SO WELL IM SCREAMING

as promised. Part two of Desiderium under the cut.

Another nightmare, another sleepless night. This nightmare was real though, it wasn’t like his usual ones, the ones where he was bound by chains and forced to- No, he didn’t want to think about those. His mind wandered to the latest one. He had given thought to Zhongli’s words, he was longing for somebody. But who? The God had never brought it up again, so he didn’t know. It had to be Lumine right? She was pretty, sure. Strong, good with a sword, her eyes were a nice shade of gold. But something still felt off.

He needed to take a walk.. He stopped when he reached the living room, blinking at.. Lumine? Asleep on his couch? The blonde stirred and pushed herself up some, blanket falling around her shoulders. “Sandrone? Ah- your mask- I- Sorry.” She averted her eyes and Sulien realised he wasn’t wearing his mask. This was his house! Of course he wasn’t wearing his mask. He cleared his throat.

“I thought I heard voices.” Ajax commented from the hallway, hair messier than ever from sleep. “I hope it's alright I invited Lumine to stay with us while she’s in Liyue Harbour. It's closer than the inn.” Ajax explained, seeing the panicked body language only he could understand on his fellow harbinger made him feel bad that he forgot to bring it up. Paimon snored away on the armchair, clearly unbothered by it all.

Without his mask, without his gloves, his scars and face on display. He felt uncomfortable. Incredibly uncomfortable. “I’m going for a walk.” Sulien pivoted and made a beeline for the entrance. Lumine rubbed her sleep riddled eyes, a small yawn escaping her as she looked up at Ajax who was busy staring at the archway into the entrance.

The door slammed shut.

“I’ve only known him for a month or so but,” she yawned, “I take it this is abnormal?” She sat up properly, tightening the blanket around her though. Liyue evenings could get quite cold. Ajax nodded his head in response to her question. Abnormal indeed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen such an influx of emotion. Perhaps when they were kids? That was probably it.

Sulien breathed in the fresh air, late at night, he didn’t need his mask, he didn’t need to be his rank. He could just be another nameless person in the streets, he preferred it this way. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants as he walked down the streets. Very few people were out and about so late at night, but he enjoyed watching them. A ghost of a smile on his lips as he watched lovers enjoying a late night getaway or a tired sailor returning home late.

But despite his usual late night activity that often cleared his mind, his mind began to fog once more. Trailing back to his dream, it wasn’t even that bad, especially compared to the usual ones. But being abandoned in a dream, he supposed, tied into the feelings he had been having recently. The stabbing pain in his poor heart, the squeezing of his lungs, stripping his body of blood and air.

There was no way it was about Lumine though. He didn’t feel anything when he looked at her except the pain, there was nothing underneath. He sighed, finding himself at the docks. He looked out on the dark water, lilac eyes searching the depths for answers. He furrowed his brows, all he could think of when he looked at the water, all he was reminded of.. Just one thing.

Ajax.

Sulien shook his head, no, he shouldn’t think of Ajax of all people. He couldn’t, that wasn’t allowed as far as he was aware. Well no relationship was allowed in general, he was their puppet after all, he couldn’t have any strings except to Her. But still.. This seemed somehow worse. His heart lurched at the thought and he hissed in pain, bringing his hand up to his chest, scarred fingers digging into the black fabric of his shirt.

All the books he had read, all the research he did. None of it had any answers for this. And he wondered why he felt wrong. Sulien sighed, sitting on the edge of the docks, legs dangling above the water. Ajax seemed happy with Lumine either way, right? They were much cuter together. Sulien never really belonged anyways, an outsider looking in on everybody else. He sighed, leaning back on his arms.

There were footsteps on the dock behind him and he tensed his body, ice already forming in his fingers. Then the familiar scent of cologne hit him and he watched as Ajax sat down on the docks beside him, wrapped up in Sulien’s coat of all things. Sulien’s heart hurt and he looked out at the water, it was becoming so frequent that it was more of a dull ache. Ajax deserved better than him, better than some man who couldn’t give him what he wanted.

“Talk to me.” Ajax whispered, dull eyes trained on the ocean. “You’re hurting and I want to be there this time.. I wasn’t.. I wasn’t last time.” The man hesitated, pulling one knee up and rested his arm against it. Sulien wished nothing more than for the waves to take him away, drown him until there was nothing left. He could not tell the man beside him how he felt, it was wrong. It wasn’t fair.

“I’m just sick, I’ll be fine.” Sulien manipulated his voice so he sounded more hoarse, as if to hammer in the point that it was nothing more than some freak illness. “We have field work tomorrow, you should go back home and sleep. I’ll walk you back.” Sulien stood and Ajax slowly followed him. But before Sulien could head off the docks, Ajax grabbed his elbow, stopping him.

“Please talk to me when you feel ready.” Sulien merely smiled, one of the ones that Ajax knew was fake and full of lies. But the ginger accepted it in the moment.

Sulien sighed as he summoned his claymore, flipping the massive weapon in one hand. The conversation from the day before played in his head, over and over. But he had work to do now. Why did Ajax care? What did he mean when he said he wasn’t there last time? Sulien swung his weapon, the frostbitten blade slicing clean through the arm of the Ruin Guard. He didn’t expect to be smacked by the automaton’s other arm, he barely protected himself with a wall of ice.

“Sandrone, pay attention!” Ajax called, utterly confused on why his colleague was so lost in thought. Ajax ripped apart his bow, the hydro blades forming as he slashed at the ruin guard. It was a simple side mission, really. Destroy the ruin guard near the skirmisher camp. Easy peasy between the two of them. Hell even alone, just one of them probably could have done it. But it was rare they both were allowed into the field together.

Sulien froze the ruin guard and Ajax’s daggers turned back into his bow, he nocked an arrow and drew his string back. Right through the core, bullseye. “Alright that’s that!” Ajax’s bow dematerialised as the automaton fell. There was a whirring nearby and Sulien narrowed his eyes, Ajax didn’t seem to hear it. But he did.

A wall of ice protected Ajax from the incoming missiles of another automaton. Sulien barely dodged the drill of a ruin hunter. Why were there so many all of a sudden? Ajax easily flipped out of the way of the hit of the ruin guard that had attacked him, sliding back to where he had been when fighting the first one. His bow appeared in his hand and he got into position again. “Tartaglia! How many did the Skirmishers report?” Sulien questioned as blocked an attack with his claymore.

His arms shook as the hunter tried to keep cutting downwards with its long sword-like attachment. He had to yield, ducking underneath it. Ajax bent down on his perch, pointing his bow upwards he released multiple hydro arrows into the air. “They only reported one ruin guard! There was no mention of multiples, let alone a hunter.” Ajax called back as another hydro arrow appeared between his fingers.

Now underneath it the ruin hunter decided this was the time to use lasers. Sulien barely constructed the dome around himself in time, manipulating the frost in the air and creating a solid ice dome. A fourth automaton had Ajax seething, how in the hell did their subordinates miss this? When the one he had been fighting slammed its hand onto Ajax’s perch he used its arm as a bridge, bow turning into a polearm.

The ice around Sulien melted but before he could react a second ruin hunter was slamming into him, sending him flying backwards. “Sulien! Careful!” Ajax called, stabbing his polearm into the core of the ruin guard. Sulien got back up, dodging out of the way of one of the hunters. He ran for his claymore, weaving between various attacks as quickly as he could while Ajax struggled with the ruin guard.

Sulien picked his claymore back up and adjusted his grip on the weapon, he slashed at the legs of the ruin guard Ajax was battling, sending the automaton to the ground, the whirring of its body stopping. Two ruin hunters left- Sulien turned around and was faced with three. What in the world- “Something is summoning them here, Tartaglia. This is abnormal.” Sulien adjusted his grip on his blade, peering through the new crack in his mask. He’d have to fix it again.

A bright light beside him blinded him and Sulien hissed as he turned away from Ajax. He didn’t really have time to focus on the transformation as he shielded the both of them from the incoming missiles. A wall of ice reinforced with vines splintered and exploded, the shards turning into snowflakes as they fell from it. At least the wall had lasted against the missiles.

While Sulien thoroughly distracted one of the ruin hunters, Ajax focused on the other two, he brought his hand down, summoning multiple thunderbolts onto one of the ruin hunters, causing it to collapse to the ground, stunned from the electricity. His bow turned into a water spear as he dashed forward, the water from his weapon spraying the automaton, thoroughly frying it. Sulien’s claymore became encased in ice once more, and the ruin hunter he had to deal with was down for the count.

Ajax turned his attention to the last ruin hunter, turning in time to watch the missiles coming at him. He used his ability to blink, reappearing closer toSulien who was looking worse for wear quite frankly. Ajax lunged forward once more, a wheel of electrified water surrounding the ruin hunter, tightening on it. Sulien stepped forward, releasing a blast of ice that froze the machine, causing it to fall from its awkward frozen position, shattering upon contact on the ground. Ajax was beaming, still in his Abyss form but he let himself actually touch the ground rather than float and he turned towards Sulien.

Sulien's claymore dug into the stone and he used it to keep himself up. Ajax closed the distance between them, his weapon floating beside him. Sulien collapsed onto his knees, the large weapon giving out underneath his weight and clattering to the stone floor of the ruin. Funny.. This didn't hurt as much as the heart problems had been hurting.. Life was funny that way. "Hey, hey what happened?" Ajax shifted back, he was exhausted from the fight and using foul legacy. His eyes trailed down to where Sulien's hand was pressed against his side. Ajax gripped the man's hand, pulling it back. The dark green of his palm stained even darker.

"The ruin hunter hit me." Sulien's head hung low, the mask he wore finally giving out, falling to the stone floor, the crack that had started to form fully breaking through the fragile mask. Ajax wished that Sulien didn't look so void, maybe it could help him assess the extent of the wound. Ajax helped Sulien out of the coat he wore, discarding the heavy material onto the ground. The touch was electrifying to Sulien, whose heart only clenched more. So many things unsaid.. But even now, he figured, he didn't deserve the right to say them.

Ajax pulled the man's shirt up, inspecting the wound. It was bad. Really bad. Sulien didn't even flinch when the man used his hydro vision to try and get rid of some of the blood to see better. "I never wanted this." Sulien mumbled as he stared up at the sky. Yes that much was true, Sulien never wanted to be on the battlefield. He was not a warrior. At one time he wanted to be a scholar, he wanted to teach. All of that ripped away with his memories. This was the end Ajax wanted, surrounded by bodies on the battlefield. Ajax ripped the banner he wore, pressing the fabric against the wound.

"Sulien, keep your eyes open, okay? I'll get you help." Would he be strong enough to carry Sulien and his weapon all the way back to Liyue Harbour? Sulien laughed, it was bitter though and it made Ajax's heart hurt. They both had so many things left unsaid. Ajax grunted as he lifted Sulien, the man hadn't listened. Though, when did he ever listen, Ajax mused. The harbinger had to use foul legacy again, there was no way he'd be able to get from the ruins all the way back to the harbour. The warm blood on his hands made the decision for him.

The stares he got as he moved through Liyue Harbour meant nothing to him, he kept Sulien's coat over the man in question, shielding his face and wound from the general public. The claymore in his free hand as he quickly moved through the streets. There were so many things Ajax hadn't said, so many things he felt, so many things he wanted to do. He gripped the man in his arm tighter.

Ajax kicked the door open, much to the surprise of Zhongli and his guests who watched as the large abyssal creature ducked to get through the doorway. Ajax dropped the claymore in the entrance way, letting the weapon clatter to the ground. He then shifted back, all but falling to his knees, Sulien’s still body rolling from his arms. Ajax slammed his hand into the ground as he tried to push himself back up.

“Help, help him please.” But he found himself unable to get up, breathing too unsteady, his own wounds catching up with him as the adrenalin was all but gone. Zhongli dropped his teacup, moving quickly he picked up Sulien, bringing him further into the house. At least Ajax could rest now, leaning his head against the hallway wall.

“Lumine, go get Baizhu please. Paimon, could you bring me the medical kit from the kitchen?” Zhongli lowered Sulien down onto the couch, pulling the fabric away from the wound the God grimaced. Lumine nodded, stepping over Ajax to get out the door as fast as she could. Paimon also listened, despite her small frame she managed to drag the medical kit into the living room. Zhongli peeled his gloves off and rolled up his sleeves as he tried to stop the flow of blood now staining his furniture.

“He should recover if he doesn’t get an infection. But do you think it is wise to treat Fatui? One less Harbinger may be-”

“I appreciate your concern, but Sandrone is a good friend no matter his occupation. He can’t help his work. Thank you for coming. Have a good night Baizhu.” Zhongli shut the door soon after and then returned to the living room. Sulien was asleep on the couch, a thin blanket covering his lower half while his torso was wrapped in multiple bandages. Ajax, meanwhile, was sitting on the ground, holding Sulien’s hand, head resting against the couch.

“They look kinda cute.” Paimon’s whisper was absolutely not a whisper, but at least she tried as she floated between Zhongli and Lumine, a smile on her face despite the fact it was two harbingers in front of her. She couldn’t know, there was no way for her to know what the two men in front of her have been through. Both alone and together. The scars could give her a hint. But that was it, and she was too naive to get it. And so to her, they were just bloodsoaked warriors who fought in the name of something she did not understand.

To Zhongli though, he’d seen this story play out thousands of times throughout history, and all he could muster was a frown, especially as his eyes traced the scars on Sulien's bare chest. As he retraced their previous conversations, he had first thought maybe it was Lumine. But as he watched the way Ajax nearly killed himself for the man. Zhongli sighed softly. What a tragic position to be in indeed.

“I’ll bring him home. Thank you for helping.” Ajax stood slowly, wincing at the pain he felt. He was in a bad state himself. Lumine held out the tattered coat, the black and navy fabric stained in hidden crimson. Ajax took it, wrapping it around Sulien before hoisting him up with a grunt. Sulien stirred in his arms but remained asleep. “I’ll pick up his claymore tomorrow.” Ajax couldn’t carry the weapon right now.

“Be safe.”

Sulien blinked at the ceiling of his bedroom. It was light outside, but the room was dark, the curtains drawn shut. His side hurt like hell, the events of what happened melding into his fragmented memory though, and he couldn’t quite recall at the moment. He felt weight shift in the bed beside him and he tensed immediately. There were very few he’d ever let close enough to him who-

“I know you’re sleeping but..” Ajax started with a soft sigh and Sulien promptly squeezed his eyes shut and evened out his breathing as if he were sleeping. “I think I know why you’ve been sick lately.. It’s the same reason why I’m sick.” Sulien wanted to furrow his brow as he quickly grew confused but opted to continue pretending he was asleep.

“I thought spending time with Lumine would take my mind off of you but it didn’t.” So he had been doing it on purpose. “Lumine is nice and all. But she’s not you.” Sulien could feel Ajax’s warm hand against his cold one, his long slender fingers playing with the scarred skin of Sulien’s hand. “I just don’t want to ruin the friendship we have if you don’t feel the same. So I tell you when you’re asleep like a coward.” Ajax sighed to himself. “This is so pathetic of me.” He mumbled.

“And then it’s my fault you’re hurt, they were my subordinates and my mission.” Ajax’s voice cracked and he didn’t even try to hide it. Though, Sulien supposed when you’re talking to somebody who is asleep, there’s nothing to hide. “All I do is fail you, what kind of friend am I? If I can’t even be a good friend, how am I supposed to be a good enough lover to tell you how I feel?” Ajax intertwined their fingers, but his touch was so hesitant. His hand was so warm, too.

“You say it all the time.. We’re just pawns in all of this.. This is one choice I have control over in this mess and yet I can’t even make it. You deserve so much more.” Ajax pulled his hand away and Sulien missed the comforting warmth. “You deserve somebody who can help heal those wounds, not.. A bloodthirsty monster like me. Whew, okay.. That helped. Good job Ajax.” Ajax mumbled to himself, a soft sigh of relief now that the weight was off of his chest.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Ajax sat up, dull eyes wide as he looked down at Sulien whose eyes were still closed. “I don’t really know how love is supposed to feel. But I think I feel it.” The man sighed, he didn’t know very much it would seem. “Could I have your hand back? I like how warm you are.” Sulien finally opened his eyes to Ajax staring at him, a range of emotions on the ginger’s face. Huh.. Had he always had that many freckles on his face? Cute.

“How much did you hear?!”

“All of it.” Ajax inhaled sharply, panic setting in. Sulien reached out, grabbing Ajax’s hand, warm. “You deserve somebody who understands the things they are feeling. And I’m not that. But I can try to learn..” Sulien cleared his throat, it hurt to speak but he couldn’t really remember the last time he had. He must have been hit pretty hard. “Te-” he hesitated, looking away from Ajax’s shocked expression and out the window. “Teach me.”

Ajax settled back down on the bed, intertwining their fingers once more. “Okay.. I’ll teach you.”

#moots #asks #Almond<3 #Tandrone #Lane's ocs #Sulien Ambros #Sandrone #p1 of Desiderium is on my main btw #this is p2

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trashcankitty12 · 4 years ago

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omg thank you so much for answering! 😅 i have another ask about the origins of the ancestral witches, how did they come about? was darkar involved in their birth or even growing up? how did they end up working with/for darkar? and how did their childhood affect their mothering for valtor?

Okay, so in my head, and in my verses, the whole Darkar being the BIG, BIG BAD isn’t the case. It’s the Ancestral Witches themselves. Darkar is just someone who used to be a good person, but turned into... a servant of sorts. Which I’ll get to that soon enough. After my big spiel on the Ancestral Witches. XD (This is gonna get long, so there’s a read-more.)

Belladonna, Lysslis, and Tharma were three sisters born to a noble family on the realm (which is now dead) known as Ulmoira. Their family had been servants of the King and Queen there for eons, and their realm was in service to the Great Dark Dragon which birthed all dark realms (and dark magic), just as the Great Light Dragon birthed all light realms (and light magic).

Belladonna had ice magic, though not to the intensity we now know her to have. In fact, her magic was considered nothing more than a party trick at the time, meant for cooling drinks or crafting neat ice sculptures.

Tharma’s magic was always considered dangerous due to her outbursts. (Such an angry child...) But she could only conjure small scale storms. Nothing that spread over entire realms, not like she’s known for.

Lysslis’ magic was mostly just extreme empathy and telepathy and being able to create and manipulate emotions in others and forcing them to tell the truth. Nothing like the illusions and hallucinations she’s known for creating today.

Belladonna was the eldest sister, and the craftiest. She made her way quickly up the ranks in the Palace and became advisor to the King. The main advisor. His right hand. His partner. (And, yes, on occasion in exchange for getting her own items on the agenda, his lover.)

See, Belladonna could see just how powerful Ulmoira could be and wanted to expand it’s power and have one of the Great Dragons claim Ulmoira as a holy land, giving more reach for their kingdom than even the newly formed Council could handle.

And of course, endearing herself to the King and making herself so integral in his life and in his court gave her all the power that not even being a Queen could give her.

(She’s ambitious, so sue her.)

(And she’s great at playing the long game.)

Lysslis, the middle sister, was also quite a crafty woman, partially in thanks to her “unique gifts”. She understood people; their fears, hopes, what made them tick inside. An empath with a near excessive reach.

Using her talents, and her way with words, Lysslis enjoyed playing spy for her sister. Always getting her intel on what others in the court were up to and what potential threats lied with other kingdoms.

(Lysslis is also the more curious sister. She’s the reason they end up going in the direction they go.)

Tharma is the youngest sister, and far more malicious and sadistic than her older sisters. She was labeled the “problem child” and the “family disgrace”. Always fighting, always starting trouble. Always where she shouldn’t be: in the way.

Belladonna and Lysslis couldn’t outcast their sister though, and found her a place to thrive: prison guard.

Tharma loved her job and loved giving prisoners exactly what they deserved.

It was an idyllic life.

Until Lysslis, during one of her missions in which she got interesting information from one of the Great Dragon Priests... Information about the Dragon Fire, Primordial Magic created from the Dragon Fire (such as the Phoenix Flames and the Water Stars), and the predictions about people one day being able to harness such magic. He even had a Grimoire detailing the prophesy of the Dragons’ deaths and Them imparting Their magic to those deemed worthy, and how the other Primordial Magics would follow Their example.

Lysslis, of course, confiscated the Grimoire and brought it to her sisters’ attention.

This could be the big break they were all waiting for. Forget the original plan of their homeland becoming a holy ground, THEY COULD BECOME GODDESSES.

But how to prove themselves worthy to the Great Dragons and other Primordials? Simple: they make themselves stronger by any means necessary.

Their family had a Family Book of Shadows tucked away and hidden from the kingdom’s authorities, a tome mostly forgotten about due to the nature of the spells within. (Black Magic. A cursed and volatile version of Dark Magic, and, of course, forbidden to use.)

But Belladonna knew about it, had listened as a wide-eyed girl while her grandmother told stories of what their family used to be able to do. And now she had a reason to unlock her full potential. (And her sisters’ of course...)

In secret the three would practice and strengthen their magic using the spells from their forbidden tome, not realizing just how the magic was changing them. Oh yes, their magic was stronger and capable of things others could only dream of doing, but their physical and mental states? Their sanity? Their grip on reality?

Fleeting. And fleeting fast. To the point where they considered themselves gods without any Primordial magic, to the point where they didn’t need to be worthy of the Primordials, it was just a matter of taking what was already “theirs” to start with.

The King, disturbed by the increasingly erratic and terrifying behavior of his advisor and her sisters, confronted them.

Belladonna told him what they were planning, hoping he could see ‘reason’ and that they were the ones who ‘deserved to be in charge’. He called them out for their crazy behavior and with his army, he did his best to stop them.

Unfortunately, with their rage and combined magic, it wasn’t enough to stop them.

Belladonna was now able to call forth blizzards with never before recorded temperatures. She could sense the blood within others and freeze them from the inside out. And she could create snow creatures to do her bidding.

Tharma’s storms could cover vast quantities of land and rage with the full force of the anger she’d kept inside all those years. Lightning strong enough to electrocute even the hardiest of people, tornadoes able to suck the air right out of another’s lungs. Hail storms that could destroy everything in their path. And the storm harpies she could summon to fight for her where just as terrifying as anything else she could do.

And Lysslis... She had soldiers killing themselves and their comrades, their minds completely overtaken by her own will. The hallucinations she made them see, the agony and fear she had overtake them... Nothing could save those in her grasp.

Ulmoira was ultimately destroyed.

But that was fine. They had no use for their homeland anymore. Not when they had an entire magical dimension to claim. Starting with the Dragon Fire.

Before they could take the Dragon Fire, they knew they’d need assistance. So they went to a realm known as Whisperia and stole three crystals from it. (These crystals were said to contain traces of the Water Stars within them, meaning they could damage or control the Great Dragons.)

Then they headed to Domino, wanting to face the Great Light Dragon. Unfortunately for them, she had already left her physical body, her magic and soul bonding with the future king of Domino that had just been born. (And they knew even with all their power, they couldn’t fight the realm of Domino. Not while still recovering from the destruction of Ulmoira.)

So they traveled to Obsidian, finding the aging and dying Great Dark Dragon. They thought him an easy target, using their magic and crystals to weaken him further, but he wasn’t worried. Angry, sure, but not worried.

Because the moment he died, the future queen of Obsidian took her first breath, and became his bond.

Deterred, but not defeated, the Ancestral Witches decided to seek out the other Primordials first.

For ages they searched and scoured for Primordials, even stealing sacred items from realms in the hopes it would give them the power they sought. (And in their quest, they gained followers. Devout followers who worshipped the grounds they walked upon.)

And, curiously (and in great timing, considering their ages), they found a way to remain... Immortal. More or less.

One part blood bond between their new “Coven” and “covenmates”, a bond where they would syphon their members’ life forces, a slow process they’d never notice happening. And one part a potion they discovered which needed unicorn blood, dragon scales, and the hearts of lumen. (Poor little things...)

Over the years, the Ancestral Witches tried to “steal back” the Dragon Fire from both Domino and Obsidian, only to have their forces blown back each time. (Though each time, without fail, new followers would fall to their knees for the Witches.)

And then, an idea struck. Why take the Dragon Fire when they could raise it? King Gasper and Queen Gnala of Obsidian were due to have their child in a few months time. (Queen Natalia of Domino was still having issues becoming pregnant, poor dear.)

Carefully they monitored the situation in Obsidian, taking notice of the exhaustion among one of the most loyal servants to the Obsidian Throne since the Dragon bonded to the Ruler. Sir Argulus and his wife.

Interesting.

Lysslis saw the opening and she took it. It was slow, convincing Argulus and his wife to betray their King and Queen, but they did in exchange for the power they wished they had.

And two weeks after the young prince was born, a week before his christening, the Ancestral Witches struck with their forces, and the newly awoken Lord Darkar and Lady Mandragora. (And, a former prisoner of Obsidian’s dungeon who now had the power to absorb and redirect magic, Ogron.)

Obsidian fell. The kingdom tattered, but remade in the Ancestrals image. All correspondence and travel to the outside realms were destroyed. And the Ancestral Witches had their newest prized possession, and their future weapon, the former prince now known as Valtor.

(After Obsidian’s fall, the Council became concerned about dark magic and dark magic users. They felt that dark magic was so close to black magic, that it was only a matter of time before others turned treasonous too. Which started the crackdown on dark magic and the ostracization of dark realmers.)

(The Ancestral Witches viewed this as an opportunity and used it to manipulate dark magic users, and even some light magic ones, into joining their forces so as to “fight these injustices” and “retake their place” in the Magical Dimension.)

And that’s the story. Or well, a sort of glossed over, short version of the story.

Hope you enjoyed it.

#griffinswitch asks #winx club headcanons #winx club au #winx club au headcanons #winx club ancestral witches #winx club darkar #winx club valtor #winx club origin headcanons

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quillandink333 · 4 years ago

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Scarlet Carnations ~ Part III

BotW Link X Zelda ~ Detective AU

Rating: T

Word Count: 2k

WARNINGS: death, murder, loss, trauma, blood and gore, terrorism, organized crime, self-harm

Summary: Inspector Zelda Hyrule, assisted by the faithful Constable Link Fyori, is infamous for cracking the most confounding of cases in a town dominated by crime. Her latest assignment is to solve the murder of her own godmother, Impa Sheikah, the late CEO of Sheikah Tech. Incorporated, while staying under the radar of the dreaded Yiga organization.

Part I • Part II • Part III • Part IV • Part V • Part VI • Part VII • Epilogue • Masterlist

The investigation was still underway a week or so later, still without even a semblance of a lead to go on, or at least not a favourable one. Auntie Purah still had yet to take the Slate into the lab as she’d promised, which was understandable. She was still in deep mourning, after all. I, however, still got up at six o’clock each and every day to make my way to the site, as if the murderer would one day just walk out into the open if I waited long enough.

Truth be told, despite my conscious efforts to suppress it, a part of me deep down was growing weary of one fruitless search after another. Most of the cases I’d led up to this one had been closed within a maximum three days. Admittedly I’d even begun to consider ways to dispose of the fatal evidence I’d been carrying with me since the start of all this. No one but Paya and I knew of its existence, and no one but us would ever have to. Besides, if these egregious felonies truly were the designs of the organization—which they had to be—there was no way I’d ever find any clues leading toward the perpetrator’s true identity, let alone that of their ever elusive boss.

And yet, every morning when I returned to the scene of the crime, with officers bustling about and those who remained of my family sitting quietly in another room, I was reminded of my ultimate purpose. It wasn’t a matter of being able or unable to catch my godmother’s killer. It was one of necessity. Letting them roam the streets as they pleased was not even a part of the equation. I hadn’t spent the better part of the last decade toiling away to reach my current level of authority as a detective investigator simply to throw it all away as soon as my will was tested. That wasn’t what Auntie Impa, nor what Mother, would’ve wanted. I had to uncover the truth, no matter the cost.

What happened next, however, would make my distress up until then seem almost laughable.

I was made aware of it via wire on one muggy afternoon at my office, when I’d decided to work on typewriting up some reports. I picked up the phone only to hear the wails of one distraught Auntie Purah on the other end.

“Zelda, it’s terrible!” she cried. “The Slate—Impa’s Slate—I’ve looked everywhere, and so have Paya and Symin and all the men here on duty, but I—it’s...we can’t—we haven’t...” The poor, old woman was hyperventilating, creating awful static noises through the speaker’s papery membrane.

“Auntie, it’s okay. Calm down,” I urged gently. “Take a few deep breaths.”

“Alright...” A few moments of silence went by before I heard her voice again. “Thank you, dear.”

“Not at all. Now, what were you saying about the Slate?”

“It’s been stolen.”

I froze, breath stagnant and eyes glued to the edge of my desk. “It’s—what?”

“Stolen,” she repeated, only deepening the pit forming in my stomach, from where my heart was now pounding. “Right out from under our noses. We’ve searched high and low for it, but there’s been no sign of it, or the thief.”

I had to reign in my voice before I’d start shouting at her. “H-How can you be sure it was stolen?” The vigilant Link’s eyes now bore into me with intensity from his place by the file cabinets.

“The lock on the safe,” blubbered my auntie, “the one in the study that it’s always kept in. You know the one?”

“Yes?”

“It was broken, and the safe was empty.”

“But...that’s impossible.”

“Precisely!” she cried, giving me a start. “I still haven’t the foggiest how they did it.”

“I’ll be there in twenty.”

With that, I hung up and prepared for immediate departure, my assistant just a few paces behind me. I had to see this for myself.

Surely enough, when we arrived, the safe’s lock was destroyed beyond repair, and there was nothing but dust to be found inside. Unsurprisingly, the thief had been careful to leave no fingerprints behind, just as the killer had been. For now, though, it was too soon to say for certain that the same individual was behind both crimes.

Upon closer inspection, it seemed the lock mechanism had been melted. My eyes widened. “That’s not something you see every day.” Constable Fyori crouched down beside me, then gave a similar reaction when he noticed the cause of my astonishment.

The thief had to have been someone with access to a welding torch or something along those lines. There certainly weren’t many who fit that description, save for the police. In fact, the whole reason they were issued out to a select few officers was for this very purpose, but situations requiring said officers to break locks such as this one using such extreme methods were few and far between. Nevertheless, the possibility stood.

It was for this reason that I finally gave in and decided to take up the case with the chief detective once we’d finished here. As always, Constable Fyori accompanied me thereto.

Chief Bosphoramus’ office was neither too grand nor too modest, not unlike my own, though it still clearly belonged to someone of high rank. It resided on the third floor of the three-storey building where my dear colleague and I made our livelihoods, boasting a broad view of the deceivingly peaceful streets below.

“It seems UC3680G662LL was the only officer on the scene who was equipped with a cutting torch,” relayed the old man, hunched over the records lain across his desk. “Unfortunately, however, he resigned just yesterday.”

I waited a number of seconds for him to follow up with something useful, but to no avail. “So...what? You’re saying we can’t go question him now? Because he ran away?”

He clasped his fingers together in front of him, looking at me like an elementary school principal. “That is what I am saying, yes.”

I wanted to growl like a bear as imitated by a child, but I held it in. “You do realize what this means, don’t you?” I scoffed. “No doubt he was a member of the organization sent to steal the Slate after killing its owner.”

“Now you listen here, Inspector.” The chief’s tone turned serious. I closed my mouth. “You of all people should know that not a single square inch of this town is safe. Not even this precinct.”

“Yes, but Sir, surely you agree that this entire case has ‘Yiga’ written all over—”

“Are you mad?!”

His thundering voice made Link and I jump. The room fell silent, the chief’s eyes flickering between the door and the open window behind him.

Then he rose from his seat to close the shutters. “Have you some sort of death wish?” he continued at an infinitesimal volume in comparison.

I bit my tongue, restraining the urge to retort with, “Whose fault is that?” for I knew I would only be spinning my wheels. There’d once been a saying in this city: “When one sheep leads the way, all the rest follow.” And Chief Detective Bosphoramus was a perfect reflection of this. Every last member of the force was the same. Weak-willed curs. Shirking from their sworn duties and hiding away behind their shields of specious ignorance.

But despite the virus of cowardice festering throughout the bureau, my partner’s lasting air of calm resignation reminded me that no one could truly blame those affected by it.

The power that the Yiga organization possessed over the town was beyond compare. Those on City Council were nothing more than their puppets, and likewise were the police. Fear and massacre were the whips they raised to drive us all into submission and to punish any and all who had the will remaining to fight. But the one group who’d dared to challenge their might, who’d stood tall ever in the face of their tyranny, had been my godmother’s company. Thanks to her intelligent mind and righteous heart, the people had been given access to technology that would keep them safe, to a degree, from crime, and little by little, the company had developed into a beacon of hope for the town and its inhabitants. Until now.

Now, that hope had been snuffed out, like it had never been anything more than a week and vulnerable candle flame, flickering faint against the darkness of obscurity, in the first place.

Later that evening, when my gaze happened upon the knife block sitting on my kitchen counter at home, my steps halted. The scars on my arms left over from my last couple of years in secondary school—the period in my life following the yet unexplained events that had taken away the one I’d cherished most—had only just begun to fade. Even so...

I shook my head, turning my back to the kitchen. But then, I couldn’t help but look over my shoulder once more. I recalled the rush of adrenaline that took hold each time my skin was breached by icy steel. It was true that letting my emotions control me would get me nowhere, but maybe...maybe just this once, I could at least do something to assuage them.

Then the image of the gaping, dark red hole running straight through Auntie Impa’s neck flashed before my eyes. I covered my mouth, quickly swallowing the bile rising up from the bottom of my throat. The idea slipped my mind that very instant.

It wasn’t until the following day’s investigation that a substantial piece of the puzzle finally revealed itself to me.

For it to have taken a whole two days to find wasn’t all that unbelievable. Even I had to admit, although my stepsister was a spineless, tattling suck-up who’d always received far more credit and affection than she was worth, no one could have imagined her ever turning criminal.

Even so, I was certain that what I discovered there in her bedroom went against the expectations of all. Upon my entering, a faint glow of teal and tangerine peaking through the floorboards caught my eye. I went to lift the plank doing such poor work of hiding the thing from sight. There it was, unscratched and in perfect working condition, its screen lighting up and displaying that dastardly riddle I’d been confronted with several days prior and still didn’t know the answer to.

Although the mystery of where it had disappeared to had been solved, its reason for being here of all places was still unclear. Why would Paya have gone to such lengths just to get her hands on the Slate? It was difficult to imagine there being any information contained therein that she would want so direly to be kept secret from the world. She and her grandmother had been close since before I’d become a part of their family as a six-year-old.

Then something hard and marble-sized went flying across the floor when struck by the pointed toe of my shoe. I gave chase, soon realizing what it was when it slowed to a halt just before the south-facing wall of the room:

A bullet.

I didn’t even need to perform a striation comparison; anyone could clearly see that it matched the one I’d pried out of my mother’s memorial shrine. Whatever blood might’ve been here at one point must have simply been wiped up, and she must have stolen Link’s revolver with whatever methods she’d used to steal the Slate. Without a doubt, this room was the true crime scene I’d sought after since day one of the investigation.

But even in the face of this victory, I could hear the voices of those who would oppose me ringing in my ears. “Paya’s the mastermind?” they jeered. “Isn’t that a bit far-fetched?” But at this point, this case had already pushed me far beyond the boundaries of my patience. I didn’t have a single damn left to give about how flawed my logic might or might not have been. All that mattered now was that I had a suspect, and so help me, if I was correct in my line of thinking as suggested by the evidence, this criminal would receive no mercy.

#my writing #fanfic #botw #zelink #botw zelink #zelink botw #link x zelda #zelda x link #botw link x zelda #botw zelda x link #zelink fanfic #zelink fic #zelink ff #zelda pov #detective au

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sympathyfortheblinderdevil · 4 years ago

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All Is Fair: Ch. 19 Velvet

Tommy's plans have everything to do with a little velvet box. Ada and Polly have reservations, but Tommy is off to the country to bring back his bride.

Sorry for the giant-ass hiatus. I've had Covid and complications from Covid, so it has been tough to find my muse. I hope you like this offering.

“On the table by the window will be fine, and if Mrs. Gray arrives before we’ve come down, send her up here,” Ada spoke quietly to the maid who had brought a tray of tea and scones into the bedroom. She didn’t want to wake the boys, who were sleeping uncharacteristically late for a Christmas morning. Her own chances for a good night’s sleep had been poor to nonexistent after Tommy dropped his bombshell.

She’d had a bath and fixed her face and hair before the sun crept over the eastern treeline of Tommy’s estate. By the time the sky had begun to fade into the bruised lavender shade that she loved best, she had slipped into a burgundy satin and velvet pantsuit. She stood at the window and watched the dawn go fuchsia, then salmon, and finally pale blue before she rang for tea. The loosely draped satin of her top flowed like liquid as she poured her first cup and waited for Aunt Pol.

Like many others who were raised with very little, Polly celebrated Christmas in a big way. The loss of her own children and the hardships she faced while raising her nieces and nephews had meant that she couldn’t get enough of a proper Christmas morning through the eyes of a child. Polly made it a point to be with Charlie or Karl or both on Christmas morning, and she brought enough gifts to make Croesus blush. True to form, she came down Tommy’s drive, fresh from sunrise mass, as Ada poured her second cup of tea. Ada stifled a giggle as she watched one of the house boys struggle under the weight of a huge red flannel bag filled with gifts, but her lightened mood was short-lived as her mind returned to the news she had to relay to her aunt.

“Happy Christmas, Ada,” Polly sang as she walked through the door and pulled Ada into a hug.

Ada squeezed her back with all her might inhaling deeply the scent of French perfume. When she pulled away, she placed her finger to her lips to warn Aunt Pol to be quiet. “The boys aren’t awake yet. Have some tea.”

“I’d rather go wake the boys. Who ever heard of having a lie in on Christmas morning?”

Ada wrinkled her brow and gestured toward the sitting area, “I really need to speak with you before this all gets started. It’s Tom.”

As they settled into a pair of dainty boudoir chairs, Polly lit a long brown cigarette and sighed, “This had better not ruin my Christmas. What’s he done now?”

“Well there are two things, and they are somewhat related,” Ada started. As much thought as she had given the recent turn of events, when it came down to telling Aunt Polly, she didn’t quite know where to begin.

Polly took a long drag on her cigarette and blew the smoke towards the window, where the draft from the aging sill sent it wafting into curlicues. “Take your time, love, but those boys will be awake before long.”

Ada looked down at her fidgeting hands. “Esme is in town, and Tommy is getting married.”

Polly sat up noticeably straighter and raised her voice. “And just exactly how are those two things related?”

“Tommy is marrying Lia, but I think Esme is partially responsible for his sudden decision to propose.”

The whole story came spilling out of Ada starting with how Jenny came after Tommy, armed with information that she got from her copper boyfriend and Esme. “She told him that if he really cared about Lia, he’d let her go before she got hurt.” She took a deep breath and wrinkled her nose, nearly afraid to voice her thoughts to Pol, “I’m convinced that he’s marrying the girl half out of spite.”

Polly nodded knowingly. “And the other half is that he loves her and doesn’t want to lose her. This impulsivity, it isn’t like him.”

“Apparently, Esme laid it on rather thick. She had Jenny talking about tormented souls and such.”

Polly was taken aback. That Esme—she could hold a grudge like no other. The family would need to get a handle on her. On the other hand, all of their lives depended on the protection and discretion of Moss and his men. If there was any trouble in the ranks, it would need to be swiftly dealt with. Jenny’s man was a liability.

“Is Tommy getting rid of the copper?”

Ada nodded in the affirmative. “Tommy contacted Moss and to let him know about the leak in his department. He told Moss that the money that changes hands between them is meant to ensure discretion on the part of his officers and that any more exceptions would mean a change in leadership at the top. The only reason that Jenny’s man hasn’t been permanently reassigned to guarding the prison’s shithouses is that Tommy ordered him to keep Jenny away from Lia. At least until he can marry her.”

Polly nodded and raised her eyebrows in agreement. “What about Esme?”

“He said wants to make things right with her. He said it’s not right that she’s a Shelby, but she won’t even take our money for her children. He wants to call a truce and set something up for her and the kids.”

Polly scoffed, “I’ll handle Esme. She’s more likely to take it if it’s coming from me.”

A melancholy feeling came over Ada all of a sudden. She remembered taking care of John’s kids when Martha died. They were like her little brothers and sisters, but before long Freddie was back from France and babysitting was the farthest thing from her mind. Then a few years later they lost John on Christmas day. She wished she had spent more time with them all. Maybe there was hope for some kind of reconciliation. It would be nice to have John’s children around.

There were sounds of movement in the hallway, and they realized that their time was almost up. Polly leaned forward and asked, “And this marriage proposal? Did you see it coming?”

Ada cut her eyes toward the door then back to Polly. “No, Aunt Pol, just a few days ago I was worried that he was growing bored of her and that he was going to break her heart. I believe that when Jenny told him that Esme was on about curses and the blood of the innocent on his hands, it got to him. I think he has it in his mind that Lia is his second chance...his saving grace. He says he wants to keep her safe, give her the Shelby name. He kept saying that he doesn’t want to lose her. He was saying things like, ‘I have to do this the right way this time.’ Just talk to him. I’d love to have her in the family, but she's not like us. I want to see Tom happy, but it’s not fair to drag her into this life without knowing what she’s getting into.”

***

The following morning, Tommy stepped into his study to find Polly curled up on the end of the couch while she smoked and waited for her tea to cool.

He circled around his desk, unlocked the drawer, and slid a blue velvet box into his coat pocket before announcing, “I’m off”

Polly smiled into her teacup, “Where are you going?”

“You know where, Pol,” he grunted as he pulled on his overcoat.

“Do you love her?”

“Yes. As much as I’ve ever loved anything.”

“Anything or anyone?” She let her words settle on him as she took a long drag from her cigarette. “You know there's a difference, right? I know she makes you feel alive and strong. I know she adores you and makes you feel like the most important person in the world, but, Tommy, she’s a real woman with a real heart that can be broken.”

“I know that. No one’s heart is getting broken.”

He crossed the room to where Polly sat and gazed down at her with those limpid blue eyes that made her want to believe him.

“I know what I’m doing, Pol. No one’s heart will be broken.”

She reached out for his hand and squeezed it with both of hers, softly smiled, and whispered, “Alright, Tommy, alright.”

***

Tommy walked along the path that led to the barn, his boots crunching into the near-frozen gravel. His left arm swung at his side; the fingers of his right hand unconsciously rubbed the velvet of the ring box that was nestled in the pocket of his coat.

As he approached the barn, he could hear the rise and fall of indistinct voices. One of them was unmistakably hers. He stopped walking and took in the scene before him. A few milk cans stood against the wall, and a hay wagon was parked beside a neatly kept fence. A collie poked her muzzle out of the barn door, perked up her ears, and warily barked.

“What is it, girl?” Lia said as she patted the dog’s back and stepped around her.

He hardly recognized the girl standing before him: face scrubbed clean, hair tied back with a workman’s kerchief, clad in dungarees crammed into muck boots, and a barn jacket that was at least two sizes too big for her.

“Tommy! What on earth are you doing here?” she gasped.

A weathered voice called from behind her, “Who’s here Lia-Bug?”

Her father came out of the stall just in time to see Lia rush to Tommy and throw her arms around him.

“I can’t believe you’re here. You should’ve sent word that you were coming.” Her muffled words were warm as she nuzzled her chilled face into his neck.

Tommy gently pulled her away to his side and cleared his throat. Lia’s father stood a few feet away, wiping his hands on a kerchief like the one tied in Lia’s thick waves. His moss-green eyes never wavered from Tommy’s as he spoke, “Auralia, where are your manners?”

He stepped up to Tommy with his hand extended, “Patrick Montrose. You must be Thomas Shelby.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Montrose. Call me Tommy.”

With his hand gripped firmly around Tommy’s he returned, “Alright, Tommy. You might as well call me Paddy since we’re damn near the same age.”

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders fiction #peaky blinders fanfic #tommy shelby x oc #all is fair

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orangegreet · 3 years ago

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No Minor Miracles | Chapter 8

On the Other Side of the Fold | Part Two

In which we learn just how it is that the Sun Summoner got herself so deep in this shit.

Everything about this was wrong.

The gathered crowd cheered and wept as they looked at her. Alina caught faces of people she knew but her mind could not place them.

Nothing felt real. Her hand was limp in Zlatan’s and her insides were caving in.

She had thought the knowledge that she would not ever actually marry him would be enough to sustain the illusion. Pushing through would be easier if she knew she would never have to kiss him, would never have to pretend she enjoyed his touch.

It was not enough.

Her chest pulsed. Anguish. Agony.

She recognized it, of course, but was surprised it was not only her own that she felt.

And then her eyes found Aleksander’s across the square.

Their tether was amplified and energized from their week together and in that moment she felt as if she was projected forward, standing directly in front of him.

Every inch of his face and his body and his soul was exposed to her and she did not deserve the honor of it.

She was broken and confused and she felt like a child in her naivety.

Did she know he would not come after her? Is it not what she would have done for him?

This was not what she had planned for when she began this day. It was hard to pinpoint exactly when things began to fall apart.

____________________________

Roughly Three Years Ago

The resolve she felt to leave Aleksander alone was not soothing. The image of him, prostrate and half mad on his bed on a winter night, replayed in her head over again.

She needed him. She could not be with him right now.

She wanted to be. It was not fair to him to stay at arm’s length all the time.

Restless and agitated, Alina sent herself on trips around the West, hoping to alleviate the pangs of longing—or at least distract herself from it.

It was one thing to have spent a whole decade without him. She was so young when they first met. So certain in her opinion of good and evil. Of right and wrong.

He hurt her then and she spent a decade licking her wounds and holding herself above him, apart from him.

During that time she had mostly focused on the negative feelings she harbored. Half crazed with intrusive thoughts of him, of his voice and his touch and his very being, she endeavored to convince herself of his ambivalence toward her.

He did not want her for herself as a whole—he wished only to harness her power.

Living in that lie allowed her freedoms she would otherwise withhold from herself. She indulged in everything she wished and denied herself nothing.

Heartache at leaving behind her Shadow Summoner—her equal and her opposite in life—a man who apparently wanted nothing but her power for himself, granted her permission to dive deep into an emotional numbness.

There, she found, she could indulge in every manner of pleasure available. She entertained multiple partners, explored new depths of her powers, practiced an autonomy previously unknown to her.

She was free and untethered.

At the root of this numbness, the thing which made it all truly unbearable, was that everyone around her, her friends and her cohorts, deeply loathed the Darkling.

For many of them, he was a ruthless General who called them to give their lives for him without any promise of peace.

Forced conscription was not a desirable outcome for these soldiers who eventually became deserters of his Second Army.

He ordered them to give their lives, to sacrifice themselves in Ravkan wars and he promised it would be worth it for the life they would gain.

But too many of his soldiers saw only death and destruction. Too many felt their early grave would cheat them of the life they were promised.

Others, worse still, were victims to his spies and enforcers. Devoted Second Army soldiers (for there were ten times as many loyal servants as there were impassioned deserters), did their part excavating Grisha refugees from hiding in order to ensure no one dodged the draft.

Young children, ripped from the arms of their families and sent to the Little Palace. It was cruel to witness. Cruel to live.

Alina sat, arms looped over a distraught mother, fresh to the loss of her child—and she felt shame.

Shame because she could not find a fury for the Black General.

What she found instead was a soup of feelings, stewed together and luke warm. Where was her rage? Her sense of justice?

She felt only confusion and defense. Love and loyalty tangled across lines in the sand.

No one shared her views. No one was safe to speak with about them. No one would entertain a conversation on the possible virtues of the Darkling.

Ten years passed this way.

_________________________

Her doubts had been growing for a while.

Her memories of him reformed, casting him in a new light and she began to consider a harder truth to swallow after nearly a decade of dismissal: the Darkling, the Shadow Summoner—the Black Heretic, had been just as madly in love with her as she had been with him.

They were eternal. She knew this—this was a concrete fact to which she would hold tight. Eternal. Inevitable.

One day it would be just the two of them.

Alina found that was the only true relief for her loneliness.

Then Aleksander called her to him at that army outpost and together they melted into the bliss of reunion and acknowledged the truth of their fate.

Alina felt so full for the first time. Everything was coming to rights. At last.

That anxious fiery feeling that she harbored always inside herself was soothed and quelled with the introduction of his patient, cool darkness and she felt that, finally, she was at peace.

Aleksander did want her. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. All that was left was to let the pieces fall in place. Time.

Now she knew, she could work toward that Inevitable.

Speed it up. Help it along.

_____________________

Alina was reenergized in her operations and strategized her next moves. If she could get her people set up on their own, self-sufficient and motivated without relying on a Sun Summoner, she could be free.

It was time to begin the next phase—expansion.

For too long, her group struggled to maintain alliances in Kerch and in West Ravka. The place where people should be most enlightened and sympathetic to the plight of Grisha, refugees struggled to flee without risking captivity. Without risking death.

Fjerda chased them south and Shu Han shooed them further West and slavers packed them onto ships and delivered them to Kerch.

Their operation had grown under her leadership. They had the people and the training to establish strongholds in more places than just Novyi Zem.

Her hope for what was to come, for a life with Aleksander, at his side, buoyed her into her next mission.

It was time to establish a presence in West Ravka and with the help of Nikolai, she was ushered into the caring home of upper class sympathizers. Do-gooders who believed in rights for all people.

Their own son was Grisha; a tide maker who worked under a ‘Captain Sturmhond.’

For upperclass people such as themselves, it was the best they could hope for given the political climate in West Ravka.

The winds were changing and on this side of the Fold, the public was growing confident in their prejudice against Grisha.

Ignorance and hate which only grew under the influence of the growing Secessionist Party.

_____________________

When Alina met the General of the First Army, it was well before he became General.

At the time she had paid little attention to him. He was nothing more than a Commander—one who should have been sidelined by Xenia. Then by Xenia’s father.

The blushing Commander Zlatan should have been married off to her beautiful friend and host. He should have retired from the Army and been pushed into his wife’s family business.

A lucrative career managing exports with posh comforts at home and gorgeous, lovely wife to adore.

Zlatan never would have risen in the ranks. Never would have become the blight that he was now.

She still remembered the supper party when it all fell apart. When Zlatan was dismissed and would never again be invited into their home. His courtship with Xenia effectively nullified.

“A sun summoner?” Alina had said, picking up the line of conversation started by Commander Zlatan to Xenia’s father at the head of the table.

He had mentioned the phrase indirectly and Alina was just nervous enough to risk a faux pas by bringing it to the attention the entire table. “I did not realize you were a religious man, Commander."

He frowned, “Indeed, I am not. However, the rumors I’ve been hearing around the city have given me pause. Scattered eye witness accounts followed by bodies burnt to a crisp. Ghastly sun burns in the shape of a human hand over their mouths.”

The women at the table gasped and the Commander apologized, “I do not mean to speak in poor taste, ladies. Pardon me. I sometimes forget I am not on base. I will endeavor to make the switch to a more sensitive nature.”

His declaration was met with a polite nod from Xenia’s mother and Xenia herself. However, Alina could not abandon the topic so easily.

“How can we be sure this is the work of a fabled Sun Summoner? I am sorry to sound skeptical—but my education keeps me hesitant to lean in to such rumors.” Alina answered with a decisive nod.

"What do you propose it is?” Zlatan eyed her curiously. As usual, Alina found herself squirming under his gaze. Something in it was unsettling.

“Weapons, Commander. Nations at war bring about the most gruesome technology.” She said simply.

“If not that, why not a rogue Inferni Grisha? I suppose because it is much less sensational, it is not something the public would like to accept.”

“No, they do want to believe this is proof of a Sun Summoner.” He took another drink from his goblet and lowered it. “As I am not in religious company I will share that I do not hold much hope for a Sun Summoner myself. Even if there were such a creature, the Fold is an opportunity that cannot be wasted.”

Xenia’s father looked dismayed. “Surely you do not speak of secession, Commander?” Xenia was frowning, shuffling in her seat.

“Come now, Daniil. Let us not be naive. We all know that West Ravka could be a stronger country—a greater one—if were not expected to keep sending our goods and money through the abyss of the Fold. We cannot remain dependent on the crown while this obstacle divides our country. Secession is the only solution.” A servant stepped forward to refill the goblet of the Commander.

“Your points may have some merit, but surely you cannot expect this to be seen through. We have no allies to secede.” Daniil leaned forward in his chair, impressing his point with a finger to the table.

Daniil continued, “Any allegiance we could win on our side would put another country in jeopardy of going to war with the crown in Os Alta. Or worse, they risk being caught up in funding a civil war for us. Who do you expect will risk a war?”

Daniil was hiding his dismay quite well given the circumstances and decorum which the occasion warranted but Alina knew him well enough to think he had become quite disturbed by this turn of events.

“There is no risk to worry about if the proposed ally is currently at war with the old country, Daniil.” The Commander sounded positively smug.

Alina’s heat bristled through her body. Fjerda. He would have us align with Fjerda.

“You cannot mean—“ Danill began, asking the question about to burst from her lips.

“Fjerda has the resources and the weapons to outfit our men. They are already at war and the Tsar is barely keeping them at bay. If we ally ourselves with them, we could leverage the might of our army and theirs and gain independence from the East.”

Daniil sat back in his chair.

His eyes flicked to his daughter who was wearing her pain quite plainly. Alina held her hand under the table.

“And when Fjerda demands entry to roam West Ravka for Grisha?” Daniil asked. “To turn out houses and homes in search of them. To try them as ‘witches’ in the city square—how will the newly established West Ravkan government respond?”

The Commander blushed. The red tinging his entire face spoke to the amount of wine he consumed. “Well, allegiance bought must be paid somehow, Daniil. This is war, after all.”

Xenia, of all people, got to her feet.

The Commander looked startled to see the tears on her face.

“The way you cast the lives of people at the feet of monsters does not make you cunning. It makes you a monster. I would like for you to leave now.” Her eyes shifted to her father’s who nodded and rose from his chair.

Xenia left the room. The Commander was never invited back.

________________________

Alina did not see him again for a couple years. Neither the commander, nor Aleksander whom she was still on a freeze out with—as they agreed.

She filled her time traveling around West Ravka, visiting orphanages and villages.

Praying for the people, delivering food and supplies—it was an excellent cover for finding Grisha in hiding.

Helping funnel them through the proper channels to get out of the West now that Secessionist lunatics were rising up against them.

Secessionists did not separate a common Grisha from a Second Army soldier. In their eyes, all Grisha who were citizens of Ravka must eventually be conscripted and would ultimately be used by the Tsar to fight them in the impending Civil War.

The people did not know they had a Sun Summoner in their midst. To them, she was merely Anya—Sankta Anya as she was increasingly named.

Her reputation preceded her and when she visited a village, people cheered and rallied around the Mother of Ravka.

She prayed and dying crops came back to life, revitalized whole fields as if the feeding power of sunlight were injected back into their stems by her prayers alone.

Through the power of her persuasion and charm, she arranged a new eco-system in every village.

With the crop lands producing double their share, the farmers had more wealth. Anya—Santka Anya—asked only in payment that they proceed to donate a percentage of their wealth and resources toward lifting up the orphans and sickly members in their community.

What farmer would dare go back on their word? If they did, would they not see their crop begin to fail? It was too great a risk.

This simple act boosted the economies, lifting the lowest class into a livable state of being.

Sankta Anya brought with her reason and prayer and she left behind harmony and abundance. And the people loved her for it.

____________________________

It was in one such town, that she sat at the table of a nobleman who employed half the village with work weaving and stitching sailcloth for the West Ravkan Fleet.

In this home she came across Commander Zlatan again. A man whom she had not seen in two years—not since that night when he revealed himself as a Secessionist and showed the depth of his evil.

Alina was quite chilly toward him the entire evening which, to her consternation, the Commander seemed to find quite amusing.

He eyed her like rabbit caught in a trap and it wasn’t until the dinner had ended that she received another shock from him.

Zlatan had cornered her in the sitting room where she waited for her escort to fetch the borrowed coach which would return her to the town.

“It has been a pleasure seeing you again, Anya. You really do look well.” Alina looked around the room, wishing dearly for an escape but there was no one.

Only she and Zlatan.

“You are too kind, Commander, really.” She turned away from him, eyes expectant on the door.

“Forgive me for my haste but I do not know when I will get the chance to see you again.” Zlatan said.

Alina turned a sharp expression on him, taking a step back as she did so.

“It has taken a while to catch up to you, you see. It seems you travel farther and faster than a bird’s migration and I am embarrassed to say I have been chasing you for quite a while now.”

Alina turned up a corner of her mouth and then glanced back toward the door, “Well best say your piece, Commander. I am quite tired and will not wish to delay once the coach arrives.”

Zlatan laughed, as if that is precisely what he expected her to say.

“Very well then. Typically I would not wish to rush such a task but you leave me little choice. I wished ask if you are betrothed.”

The words landed with a thud between them and Alina stared at him in shock.

“And, if you are not, I next mean to ask if you have taken a vow of celibacy.”

He looked as confident as he had the entire conversation.

“Beg pardon, Commander, but what business is it of yours?” She said, hardly able to keep the sneer out of it.

He chuckled and smoothed a hand over his hair.

“Well, you see, if you are neither betrothed and are willing to marry—well…I had thought perhaps you might be willing to hear an offer of marriage from me.”

Alina blinked rapidly and then turned away from him.

Emotions surely were playing across her face and it would not do for him to see and guess at any of her thoughts.

Alina did think of course, of Aleksander. In fact, the Commander was all but forgotten as she allowed herself to dwell on the man she was trying to leave alone at the moment.

Anything to remove herself from the here and now.

The Commander was making quite a name for himself and his outspoken political views across West Ravka. If Aleksander had heard any of the whisperings about this man in the last couple of years—well there could not be another man who was a perfect foil of her Shadow Summoner.

Elite and high-ranking army member, rising leader of the Secessionist Party and someone who gave no regard for any Grisha, friend or foe. Perfect opposites.

They would destroy each other if given the chance.

She longed for Aleksander and for one insane moment, she thought to tug on their tether and see if he would come to her. Witness this catastrophic event for himself.

Alina righted herself—the fear of what she had almost just done knocked her back into reality and she turned back to Commander Zlatan. The blushing man she met a couple years ago all but erased and replaced with this cocky militant.

“Why would you want to marry me, Commander? You hardly have a shortage of suitable matches—many women who would bring you money and status.”

“Indeed.” His eyes glimmered at hers and nausea swept through her gut, “Those women may be suitable for my station now, perhaps. However, for what I am to become I need someone more… Saint-sent.”

Alina quirked a brow but said nothing.

“You see, Anya,” He condescended, “It is no secret that General Balakin is getting on in years. There is talk among the ranks that he is on his way out—”

He cut himself off. Allowing a finger to pull at his own cuffs to cover his nerves.

“To speak quite plainly, you have the love of the people.”

A bitterness stole over his features, “‘Sankta Anya’. Had I known the night we met how that title would stick…”

He did not finish his thought.

When she did not speak he added, “I’m not doing a very good job of selling this to you, am I?”

“You’re not. Perhaps you’ve forgotten the circumstances under which we met but I have not.”

“Ah. I was more naive then.” His eyes flicked to the floor, “Xenia was a wonderful woman—is a wonderful woman, I am sure, but we did not see eye to eye on important matters.”

Alina thought to show him her power right then and there.

The desire to see him quake in his uniform and bow before her celestial starlight was compulsive. She would have him on his knees right there before she burned him through.

She remained stubbornly composed.

“In any case, Commander, what sort of woman would it make me to betray the trust of a once dear friend and confidant?”

“Please cease your coy attitude, Miss, and let us speak frankly.” Zlatan demanded.

Alina blinked at him.

“I will ascend as the General of the First Army before the years end. Where General Balakin threatened and teased a plan for secession for years, I will make good on that deliverance.”

He held the lapels of his uniform, head up high, “I would do so better with you at my side. Should you find me so abhorrent that you would not consider a more intimate relationship, I will be satisfied in a political marriage—partnership, even, with you.”

“You presume I wish to partner with you. I assure you, I do not.”

“It is the people who will be served by our union. Surely you see that, Anya.”

She bristled at the implication. At the way he so clearly spoke only of the otkazat’sya. Forget the people who he would leave to ruin—her true people.

“You speak so casually about undermining the rule of a Tsar and claiming half a country in your own name.”

“No!” Zlatan stepped forward. She stepped back.

He held his hands up in placation, “Not my name. The name of the people. Our people in West Ravka—they deserve better than what we have been served on this side of the Fold.

“With you at my side, the common people will be assured of our leadership through what is to come—even if it is civil war.”

They both knew it would assure a civil war and yet he continued to condescend her. “They trust your good nature, Sankta. They will follow your rule.”

Alina turned away from him.

This changed everything. How this opportunity could have fallen into their laps—it was unheard of.

She could not look at him. The Council would have to know—and soon.

“Very well. I will think it over. I require time to pray to the Saints for guidance.”

She could hear the eye roll occurring behind her back.

“Of course. At the Saints mercy. Will a month be enough?”

Her panic spiked.

“I cannot say for sure. We will start at a month.”

Zlatan was silent and then stepped closer to her.

“Very well. I will be back in the capital a few months time. Perhaps we can speak then. I will not change my mind and you will have an opportunity to truly consider the good we could do. Together.”

Alina nodded but did not look at him.

Dread had filled her up and the only relief was in that persistent hollow she found in her chest.

The space where she and Aleksander were once connected.

_________________________

It was the very next night that Alina received her wish.

Aleksander finally called to her.

She had hoped to receive clarity.

She had hoped to get in insight somehow.

Alina was ready to do away with her secrecy and let Aleksander into her plans.

Now. It was time.

Alina was ready to be his comfort and would be willing to beg for his in return—was unable to survive longer without it.

He called to her and she disappeared into their ethereal connection with haste and a tender hope.

To stumble upon the scene—her truest love, her heart tie, deep in the throes of what could only be called desperate love-making…she felt her insides squelch. Eviscerated into nothing.

His passion—Saints! his passion—it stole the breath from her lungs and the power inside her flickered in futile resistance.

She was a hollow, gutless, aching shell.

____________________________

The images plagued her for months after, following her when she closed her eyes. Forcing her to doubt what she was so sure of once.

It interrupted her thoughts, peppering the conversation. The very important conversation which would decide her fate.

“It is a good plan, Alina.” Artur’s words pierced her reverie.

“This is better than we could have hoped. The opportunity this has afforded us—it is practically divine.” He did not bother to keep the excitement out of his voice.

Artur, speaker of the Council, held no more weight in the decisions than any other member. And yet it was he would receive her ire first.

“I will not be sold off as a bride to that Grisha-hating otkazat’sya.” She hissed.

“You will do what the Council decides. We are a democracy, Alina. You may be the Sun Summoner but you took an oath to bend to the will of the Council. Are you breaking your vow now?”

The other members shifted uneasily and Alina implored them all, sparing no one from her gaze.

“This council never used to take liberties like this—not over individuals and not over me. Whose idea was it to bring this to a vote—to take this decision away from me entirely?”

No one answered.

At first.

“I called the vote, girl.” Baghra volunteered with almost a bored expression on her face.

“Someone had to make a move. You were going to let an opportunity slip right through your inexperienced hands.”

“You of all people have no right to make these calls over my life.”

Baghra who ruined her life once would seek to ruin it again.

“You are still a child. You know nothing of the world—not like I do. Marrying Zlatan will put you in the appropriate position to take control of all West Ravka when the time is ripe—”

“Zlatan is a loathsome scoundrel and throwing my support behind him is akin to selling my very soul and all Grisha along with it.” Her hand hit the table.

“Zlatan will not dither.” Artur interjected. “He will be General within the month and he will make his move to secede within the year. It is smart of him to secure you at his side. He knows you have pull over the common people.”

Alina turned her fury back to him, “Yes and he will exploit it and crush the common people for his own gain.”

She glanced around the room, “We know this is true. We cannot consider condoning it.”

Still no one spoke.

“Nevertheless, he will secede.” Artur began again, “West Ravka wants him to do so. If he goes away, another will step in to take his place. The Secessionist Party will not be silenced, they will only be strengthened by a martyr to their cause.”

Alina began to shake her head but Artur cut her off, “The people want this, Alina. Someone will make it happen. If not Zlatan, then someone else. He is the enemy we know. We are fortunate that we know him well."

Baghra opened her mouth again, “We are fortunate that it is you he wants, Sun Summoner.”

Pabel would never have let this happen.

She wished she could speak to Aleksander. She wished she did not feel so alone. She wished she had stayed with him when she first met him.

Let him use her the way he said he would, even.

Anything would be better than this.

Artur was in full war-planning mode again, gathering nods from the Council as he met their eyes. “We let Zlatan do the dirty work of secession. Let him divide the country. Kalem is in place to take out the Tsar and the crowned prince at our direction. Nikolai will be forced to give up his alias and ship and take the throne at Os Alta.”

Alina was shaking her head again.

When had all of this moved so quickly? Had everything occurred in her absence? Was she simply a pawn for the Council now? Currying favor and love from the common people while they plotted and planned and ruined her behind closed doors?

“Yes, Alina. The Shu are making alliances with the Tsar now. They will upend the entire Second Army and no Grisha will be safe in the entire country.”

Alina pinched the bridge of her nose as old Georgy’s voice croaked from across the table, “Nikolai will step up to the throne. At last we will have a true Grisha ally on the throne in Os Alta, Alina. At last.”

The words from Pabel’s oldest friend and partner fell heavy around them. Her heart was shattering further at the sting.

When would she be allowed to decide what was right for herself?

She wondered, if her heart had not already been broken by Aleksander—if she could believe she still had him to fight for—would this go differently?

Would she feel able to truly fight back with the full might of a Solstice Sun instead of cowering like a wilting camomile in snow?

Tears welled in her eyes.

Her voice was so small.

“A Grisha ally for the throne in the East and a monster of a dictator for the West. A dictator propped up by me!” She pointed at her chest. “Propped up by this entire council! A shiny new tyrant for all Grisha on this side of the Fold!”

It was hysterical and she knew it but she could not stop herself.

“Zlatan will never work with Nikolai! He is getting in bed with Fjerda as we speak. We know this story.”

She pleaded with them, “We know what is next. Grisha hunted—Grisha enslaved. West Ravkans will have incentive to turn on their Grisha neighbors and the blood will be on our hands!”

Finally, blessedly, she saw doubt begin to show around the table.

Then Baghra spoke again, “Once Zlatan has begun the secession and you are established at his side, we will take him out.”

Alina glared at the woman. Swaying the others back under her will.

The same way she swayed Alina once upon a time.

“You have the love of the people, Sankta Anya.” Artur added, “You, not Zlatan. He needs you.”

“And when Zlatan dies, what do you expect people will do? What do you expect people will think of me?"

“No one will fault you or accuse you of blood on your hands.” Tolya said, thoughtfully. Another betrayal. “You will take up his mantle and lead West Ravka as you were meant to do.”

“You will look the perfect picture of a Saint as you do it.” Baghra again. “You will have suffered for Ravka. You will have lost your husband and the people will adore you all the more for it.”

“Then, when the time is right, you will extend an olive branch of hospitality to Nikolai.” Artur advised. “The newly installed Tsar who cannot afford a civil war right now. He will protect the Second Army.”

“But the Shu—” Alina protested.

“The deal with Shu Han and their Princess will be null under the death of the crown prince.” Baghra said almost impassively. “Nikolai will need the Second Army to fight. He will not let them fall to harm.”

Baghra gave Alina a significant look.

Aleksander would be safe. Nikolai would ensure it. He would not fall under the ire of yet another Tsar.

Alina wanted to leave. It was too much and she felt they were relying on several variables as if they were hard facts. It was not advisable.

“It is you, Alina.” Baghra said, meeting her eyes and looking more reasonable than she had ever been. “You will be the beacon of hope at last for all Grisha.”

“The Secessionists will find out I am Grisha—that I am the Sun Summoner. How will they feel about that? Will they put a stop to their Fjerdan brethren? Will they suddenly extend a neighborly hand to Grisha after years of hate and prejudice?” She asked helplessly.

She waited for a rebuttal.

The group did not disappoint.

“At the right moment, we will reveal your true gifts. We can make it look as though the Saints have blessed you with the power of the Sun before whole crowds of people.”

“We will have you shine your powers upon the Fold. If you cannot take it down entirely, you can at least blast a part of it away.” Artur said.

“The point is not what exactly you do to the Fold.” Baghra waved a hand away, “The point will be the story: People will believe they witnessed a miracle. They need not know you were born with this gift. We will sell them a better tale. That through your goodness and mercy to people, the Saints chose you as the vessel of sunlight.”

“I suppose Zlatan will not be around for this little demonstration? His little wife revealed as Grisha—he would be forced to make a stand and we know where he will stand.” Alina was growing weary.

She wished for everyone to be gone. She wished to be gone.

The world was entirely too cruel to house them all in it. She should obliterate them all.

It would be a nice thing to burn so bright for so long. Maybe there she would find peace.

Baghra dismissed this with a wave, “Zlatan will be long dead by the time you are revealed. His prejudices will not come to fruition.”

The room grew quiet. It seemed everything was finally laid out and they would all deliberate before the vote.

“Are we done for the evening? I require time to think.” Alina said.

Artur looked around and nodded to the group who began to disperse. The plot points swirled around her head and Alina gave in, getting to her feet and walking to the window.

“It is a good plan, Alina.” Tamar said, timid. Alina closed her eyes, tears falling from them as her last ally in the room fell.

“I know it is not ideal and I do not want to see you married off to that scum any more than you do. But you cannot deny the plan is good.”

“I do understand, Tamar. I am taking it all into consideration. It is just, agreeing to this is a larger commitment than you know.” Aleksander rolled through her mind on a loop, Alina continued, “I will not be compliant for the sake of it.”

Tamar put a hand to her shoulder and then left.

Artur stood behind her. Alina could see him through the reflection in the mirror.

“The Council will reconvene tomorrow morning to cast their votes.” He was wringing his hands, “Alina, we will count your vote as a no and…I would request you not attend the meeting.”

She turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “I am banned from meeting with the Council now? A meeting which will decide my fate?”

“We feel that in order to get the most honest votes, it would be better if everyone felt less…conflicted.” Artur said.

He took a breath and stood up straighter. “They have heard your objections and should you wish to voice them again before the vote, you are welcome to deliver them in the opening minutes.

“However, it would be better for the council members and for you, I think, to be allowed some semblance of anonymity. It is only right for the Council to have some emotional distance in order to put all Grisha and Ravka at the forefront of their priorities when they cast their vote.”

To not have to look you in the eyes when they trade you like a Grisha trafficker. The words hung unsaid between them.

When she did not respond, Artur left.

Alina turned, scowling at her reflection in the glass. The view held no stars tonight and she felt as cloudy as the sky. Blurred and confused.

Her thoughts turned again to Aleksander and she almost broke.

He called to her at this very moment. Had not stopped really since the night she first witness him with his lover.

His calls to her would crumble the stone fortress around her eventually. Wave after wave of persistence and desire and need crashed into the barrier and it was all she could do to keep him out.

The way her heart hurt. The way she longed.

Why could she not have been granted centuries alone like he? She would have been able to stand on this side of those years tall and invulnerable—used to the loneliness. She would be experienced in handling the empty, hollow feeling in her chest.

As it was, she felt little more than a child, puffing up her age. She had thought to show him how strong she could be.

Impress him with her self-sufficiency and strategic execution.

She had wanted to conquer the West. Wanted to own it outright.

Then, when the day came, she would join him. They would reunite Ravka. Either by channel through the Fold or by marriage or both. Eventually both.

Inevitably both.

When had it all become so muddy? The way was blurred and opaque now and it felt as if nothing made sense.

The Council would make her a traitor to herself. To her people. To her Shadowed lifeline.

How would he look at her knowing she had allowed herself to be manhandled into a political marriage. One which might impede their own union?

“The others may not guess all your reasons to protest, girl, but I can.”

The fight left her body and her forehead thudded against the glass in response to her voice.

When would Aleksander retrieve his mother?

He may have endured centuries with her but Alina could not last that long under these circumstances. If things carried on this way, Baghra would not survive it either.

Wouldn’t that be just poetic? Baghra gets her death wish fulfilled by her son’s eternal lover.

“Have the last word and be gone, Baghra. I wish to retire.”

Baghra was quiet, though not with judgement. It did not permeate the air as it typically did when she wanted to give Alina her unsolicited opinion.

Alina turned and looked at the old woman with a cautious curiosity.

She looked quite sad.

"I was…mistaken, I believe.”

The words tapped around Alina’s brain, looking for a way in but Alina was thoroughly nonplussed.

“Mistaken.” Alina repeated slowly.

“I warned you off of my son. I meant you to be afraid of him. I believed at the time you would bend to his whim and bring the earth down around him as a result.” Baghra said, voice rough with more than her old age.

“I did not think much of you. You were every bit the naive woman I’d feared you to be. Your loyalty and objectives were unknown and untested to me at the time.”

Baghra took a breath, looking everywhere except Alina. “And so I did as I must.”

“You poisoned me against him. Do not white wash that narrative, Baghra. You assured me of his dark, black heart.”

Alina felt the anger in her tears. In the floodgate of emotion opening up, Alina finally found herself the target of her own scorn.

“And then I was the one who believed it. You were a snake but I was every bit as naive as you expected to have taken your words for truth—to accept them so easily.”

Baghra looked away from her. “Nevertheless, I say this to assure you that where I was mistaken then, I am not mistaken now. Aleksander will be better for this. We can protect him.”

She looked meaningfully at Alina. “But you have to play your part.”

Alina shook her head.

“I will not marry Zlatan. No matter what the vote decides tomorrow.”

“You would risk losing control of the entire country over a vanity title? A political marriage—”

“I will not be sold off simply because I am a woman and this is convenient. I will give myself to no one whom I do not choose. I will not perpetuate a lie!” She shouted.

“Use your head, girl.” Baghra hissed. All quiet and peace forgotten.

“Zlatan will assassinate the Darkling as soon as he is in power. He will use the youth of the bastard son Nikolai to his advantage and cut off the resources for the East at the throat. Think! He fears all Grisha, fears what they can do. He fears the might and power of the Second Army on a battle field. Knows he would not win against them in a civil war. And above all—Zlatan fears Aleksander. The ‘other’ General.”

"You’re baiting me. I won’t fall for this again.”

“Stupid girl! Do you not understand!? Zlatan will not allow the boy Tsar to keep his Grisha army. You know the pig is allying with Fjerda. He would use them to end the Second Army—may even use them to take down the Little Palace itself.” Baghra was moving closer to Alina and she was already against a wall.

No escape.

“Then we will stop him. We will find another way.”

“This is the way, girl. Zlatan will kill Aleksander, one way or another. If you want to keep him alive, this is the best way.”

Alina wanted to scream. She was combusting. Her Light was reaching a critical mass inside of her and any moment her skin would burst and she would detonate.

“I am going to bed. I cannot listen anymore.” She panted, escaping the common room.

_________________________

Alina had just locked the door behind her when she felt it.

Something far worse than the usual insistent tugs of Aleksander.

At first, it was excruciating pain. Radiating from her chest and illuminating her core with Light in some sort of internal fear response.

And then, nothing.

Alina felt as though she were being unmoored. Sent to drift at sea.

Stuck in the abyss of space without an anchor.

She panicked, scrabbling for the loose tether in her chest and held tight.

And then he appeared.

Or rather she appeared to him, where he lay on the ground. Unconscious as blood poured from his back.

“Sasha.” He was hazy before her. That was unusual.

His eyes snapped open, a huff fogging in the air around him. She could not see anyone touching him.

“Sasha…” She said again into the space between them.

“You’re here.” He said. “My sun.”

“What have you done? What have you gotten yourself into, Aleksander?”

She rubbed at her chest where everything was unfurling and the frayed tendrils were like a charged wire split apart.

It danced in the energy that poured from it. It lashed through her core, untamed. It was painful.

She wanted to panic. She was afraid to lose her head. Afraid to miss this.

“A Fjerdan wolf.” He coughed, blood drops splattering over his lips. “You would admire the beast, I’ve no doubt.”

His lips turned up in a wry smile. “I did not see it directly, but I imagine it’s feral rage would remind me of you.”

He sighed and closed his eyes.

His lungs heaved a breath. “Everything reminds me of you, in any case…”

He drifted off for a few seconds, stirring only at the sound of her voice.

“Where are you?” She demanded of him. His brow furrowed at her tone. “I will come to you at once but you have to tell me now.”

He sighed again and looked confused, as if he had not understood her.

“If I was to die, I wished it to be at your hands, zoloste. With you I would be warm and you could burn me up. It would be frightening and it would be beautiful.”

“No.” She growled at him, wiping the blood from his lip with her thumb, “Get up you fool. You will not leave me alone on this rock. Aleksander. Get up.”

A chill shuddered over him. She could not see anything but shapes around him.

Was no one going to do anything?

The adrenaline she felt was turning rancid with desperation as she watched him covered in blood but remained impotent to act. Thousands of miles stretched between them.

Baghra’s words were flying like a banner through her head, And above all—Zlatan fears Aleksander. Zlatan will kill Aleksander, one way or another.

She felt they were fading. He was fading.

Who was going to help him? Where was his army?

“Can you not keep me warm now? It is cold here, where I am. Can you see the snow?” His state was turning toward delirium and she sprang forward to hold his cheek as if just that touch would keep him anchored.

He smiled and twitched his head but did not move.

“I would have your palm on my lips so I could taste your skin, moya koroleva. Please, just once.”

She bristled even as angry tears dropped from her bowed head.

“Stop it, you foolish, foolish old man. Stop trying to give your solemn farewell, I will not tolerate it for another second.” She wiped her nose with her sleeve.

“It makes you sound weak.” She spat the words at him.

He only sighed.

“I hate you for this, Aleksander. I will never forgive you for this.”

He hummed and his eyes closed in relish.

“I adore your zeal always. It lights something in me.” With the little movement he could manage he pressed his face further into her other palm, still warm on his cheek.

“My temperamental lioness. My mercurial, majestic, little Star.” He grinned with eyes closed enjoying his private thoughts.

“These are all the endearments I would name you with—I have others more colorful if you would like to hear them?”

Her hand stroked over his dark locks and tears were still falling and her chest felt close to combustion just hovering on the edge of breaking her apart.

He opened his eyes, a wearisome movement given they opened only enough to reveal half of his black pupils.

With the last of his strength he took in her face. Her tears.

He grimaced.

“It is just as well I should not get to share all the names with you. They are not all so kind, if I’m honest, and I wish only to see you blush in these moments.”

“Do not leave me, Sasha.” Her voice near silent.

“I am sorry, Alina. I would not have banished you if I thought it would end like this.”

“I told you to stop.” She sniffed.

What was this all for without him? If it did not end with them together?

“Please, Alinochka. Give me a few kind words.”

She shook her head and moved closer. Her lips pressed to his temple where she spoke into his skin.

“You are mine and I am yours. We were together in the before and we will be together in the after. You will not get away from me for long, my Sasha.”

He hummed and smiled. “You make it sound so sweet. Like a vow.”

He sighed and her tears tracked in silent hot paths down her face. Her voice left her.

He spoke again. “An after would be something. If you are there, it would be fitting that I would follow.”

He heaved another breath.

“You, the brightest star. Me, your faithful shadow, forever trailing in your wake.”

His eyes did not open again.

The tether frayed entirely and her spirit was cast into an abyss.

______________________

He must really have died. A few moments at least.

She barely had time to draw breath before he was tugging her back. The tether stitched itself together in her presence and she scratched absently at her chest while she followed his body, surrounded by blurred shapes.

Hazy figured moved around him. Fedyor came into view as he touched his General, removing his cloak. Shock had frozen his features.

Ivan appeared, unlatching the buckles of the bloodied kefta.

Ivan his most loyal Grisha. His stoic expression was virtually inscrutable but even Alina could tell he was shaken.

She hung around all evening, keeping vigil as he slept.

Aleksander woke only briefly. Long enough to see her with him. It was nearly morning. She had not rested.

The Council would vote soon.

She squeezed his hand, kissing his forehead and his lips before she whispered, “I will be back, Sasha.”

__________________________

The Council was uncomfortable to see Alina waiting for them in the morning. Though Artur had invited her to review her points before the vote, he had clearly hoped she would not.

“I have an amendment to the proposal. One which I will insist upon if I am to vote in favor of the engagement.”

Tamar and Tolya looked battle ready, nodding at her to continue. Baghra narrowed her eyes but Alina did not care.

“I will go forward with the engagement on one condition. Zlatan must be killed before the marriage can take place.”

Artur opened his mouth to protest but Alina silenced him with a look.

“It will be enough for the people to simply see that we are a united front. We will announce our engagement throughout the West and allow people to see me as a worthy ruler. Marriage need not establish any rights for me.”

Artur still looked uneasy but Tamar and Tolya were already nodding.

“Very well. Zlatan will be dead before a wedding can occur. We can work with that, Sun Summoner.” Baghra looked around, “Shall we vote?”

#darklina fic #darklina fanfic #darklina #alina x aleksander #aleksander morozova #alina starkov #politics #mutual pining #betrayal #eventual hea #the grisha trilogy #grishaverse #plot twist

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nervousomegaorb · 4 years ago

Text

Tea time! A!Tamaki Amajiki x Fem! Smoll! O! Reader

Warning: None! Except for my cringy writing tell me if I do anything wrong! And alot of fluff!

Ship: fem! O reader x A Tamaki amajik

Summary: Y/N was at a cafe studying for an exam when bully's from your past came in and was plumbiting your self esteem (witch wasn't really high in the first place) you ran towards the closest building and end up in another cafe, yes but what kind?

Readers quirk: element. Its exactly what it sounds like, reader can control any of the elements but she has to focus really hard in order for it to work or if she gets to emotional she loses control of it and things don't really work out

Sorry if the summary was long! Oh gosh I'm already scewing things up! Okay on to the fanfic this was inspired heavily by @makethiscanon she is an awesome writer and I hope I can get to her level, she also has an amazing fluffy channel that if consent granted I will name the channel!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You really weren't planning to go anywhere for the day, you were studying for Mr. Yamada's (Present mic's) class in your dorm when you decided to go to A cafe about an hour from you, ya the walk was long but they also just so happened to have to best bubble tea besides, your omega really wanted a sweet treat about now, you put on some make-up, brushed your hair, and grabbed your school bag before you went on your way (A little fresh air and some bubble tea couldn't hurt, right? Wrong.) you had just settled at a table inside, it was starting to drizzle as you opened the door to the cafe.

Before placing your order you started typing on your computer occasionally glancing at your notes for the class. You had just gotten up to order when all the sudden you smelt the hauntingly familiar cluster of scents Moss, The ocean, and polished wood and leather (witch you could smell was trying to be covered up with channel.....#4?) entered the cafe and before you could properly react your usual scent of citrus and roses, had already become quite burnt and the familiar faces all stared at you, all to familiar with your scared scent.

"Y/N! I didn't think I'd see much of you after grade school!"

If the scent didn't confirm your suspicion of who the person was there looks sure did. Mienu. The female of the group of three had long red hair with white eyes she was wearing a black tank top with a picture of the pro Hawks on it, blue ripped jeans, and black convers. Shiro, the black haired Alpha had yellow eyes he was wearing a black hoodie and jeans with some white tennis shoes, and finally Shitto. he had white hair, the Whites of his eyes Black with the pupils being white, he was wearing a black sweater that in bold white words read "Fuck this, fuck that, fuck you" (Charming) and some sweapants with black tennis shoes. They were your bully from grade school.

"Awe Y/N why the silence?" The voice you had identified as Mienu asked as the group of three alpha's had welcomed themselves to sit at your table.

Recalling past memories of tourter they put you through during early life you didn't have to be with them for even a second more

"Can you please exit my table?"

You tried to speak in the most confident voice you could muster that ended up sounding more like a whimper.

"Awe you want us to go so soon? We haven't even gotten to get a good look at you!" The black haired alpha snarled.

After stareing you up from head to toe a look of pure disgust played on there features

"Still look like the same whore from 8th grade"

" I am kind of working right now, Mienu"

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't know a job application for a janitor was that serious! I mean no one would have to look at your disgusting face that way." The second white-haired male Alpha had laughed.

"Actually I am in the hero course in UA." You told him coldly as you tapped your textbook to show the obvious U.A logo on it.

They all looked at each other speechless for a moment, the silence was short-lived when the red-haired alpha recovered from the shock.

"Oh, your poor classmates they must be so ashamed that at such a high class, prestigious school they would have to look at walking trash all-day." That one sunk in.

You were already questioning how you of all people got into such a high ranked school, and hearing it from them just broke you a little, I mean they all looked pretty well off....and beautiful. I mean your quirk was powerful but it was tricky to control and unpredictable.

You once got so angry as a child that you caused a mini earth quake, a second time that was just a few months ago, you were hanging out with Asui, hagakure, Mina, shoji, tokoyami, ojiro, and sero in the common room when mineta had decided that, when everyone was in the kitchen preparing snacks for the anime marathon you were all planning on to start hitting on you and got handsy, the next thing you new the metal from the lamp had constricted around the beta's little body (you were praised and treated as a GOD but it still bothered you that you lost control of your quirk Because of a perverted grape)

Your scent only got more burnt moment by moment thinking of how often you lost control.

"You know what I think we've been a little harsh on her let's give her a drink," the final black-haired alpha said looking at his friends.

You saw him grab a coffee from the nearest table and before you could process what he meant you were doused in black coffee, making your omega give a distressed chirp( a little extra part worsening, your omega and pretty much all omegas hated bitter things.)

You felt bad for the civilians at the cafe you could see they wanted to help but that certain cafe is known for there sweets witch drove all the people there to be omegas and betas, (by there scent you could guess the person they stole the coffee from was a beta) neither of witch would be brave enough to stand up to a group of alpha's and you felt terrible yourself, you were supposed to be a hero but you started tearing up at THIS.

You refused to let them see you cry and lose control. you packed up all the things you brought into a bag as quickly as possible and booked it, leaving the three alphas cackling.

You really just wanted to go home to get in your nest but you had already walked an hour, you were not willing to walk all the way back to U.A in the rain, the next bus wasnt going to be here for a solid half hour, your phone was dead so you couldnt call anyone to pick you up, and it was now it was pouring, you needed comfort now.

After about 2 minutes of running aimlessly your blurred, tear stung vision saw a building that had a teapot on the front, you practically threw yourself in the building, collapsing as a bell chiming to announce your entry.

"Are you alright dear?"

You lifted your head a little bit to see a sweet-looking black and gray-haired omega probably in her 40s that smelt of fresh-baked cookies, her kind-blue eyes looked at you with a look if concern, like the look a mom gives her pup if they cry.

She took the tears that stained your complexion as an answer.

"Okay dearie lets get to checked-in"

You didn't really know what you were getting checked in to but none the less you made a quiet nod and followed the women to a desk off in the corner

Once you got a better look the cafe was actually quite nice, white pillars stood inside with vines of ivory on them, the floor was marbled white and gray with a bit of black, the counter was Plain, black hardwood, it was a quaint place that reminded you of a tea shop.

Your scent was getting back to normal.

Now that you were calm again you took in your appearance in the remarkably reflective window of the shop.....you were a mess your H/L hair was soaked by rain and coffee, your eyes were red, your makeup was dripping down your cheeks, and your White coat was coffee stained, and Actually you really didn't notice till now how cold you were with the water from your clothes seeping in your skin you would have used your quirk to get the water off but you felt to emotional to use it safely.

Annnd your scent is back to burnt.

"Name dearie?"

"Oh uhh L/N-F/N

"Okay, now just go upstairs and the first door to the left, we always want our guest to feel at home, so just relax dearie"

"Thank you, ma'am!"

You gave a quick and Curt bow before heading up the stairs.

You went upstairs and followed the instructions the Walls were white with little paintings strewn across it, at the top of the stairs was a hallway with a series of black door's you followed the instructions and went to the first door, the smell of tea and tarts filled your nose and before you could hesitate you opened the door.

Before you could process your surroundings you heard:

"welcome home Princess!"

Oh...shintucky fried chicken...It was one of those cafés. everything was crisp, quaint, and warm. After a quick survey over the room you realised that the servers were all male alpha's that were all illegally attractive, and they all had on tailcoats as they served everything from silver trays.

You looked up at the tall, blonde-haired, blue-eyed Alpha that smelt of freshly cut grass, who greeted you he was wearing a black tail suit and a white buttoned-up shirt with black slacks and dress shoes.

"Are you dineing with us alone my princess?"

You felt like your heart was beating out of your chest as the handsome man asked, you had to remind yourself to behave, he was only being nice to you as part of his job, nothing more nothing less. You told yourself you were here to avoid the rain and nothing more.

You slowly nodded your head, just wishing you looked more presentable, it seemed like everyone there was staring (cause they were) there crisp, elegant clothing and beautiful features were the main things intimidating you, the cafe held mostly beta's and omegas with a few alpha's scattered around you felt like you were a gold fish in an aquarium with the exotic fishes. Misplaced. Looking amongst all the customers you could see all eyes on you, most of the eyes held discust while others held pitty.

Neither of witch you wanted to see.

"princess?"

The voice of the Alpha brought you back to reality you noticed he now had a menu.

"Follow me to your table!"

You nodded and followed him to the back where there was a booth closed off from the rest of the cafe, witch you were very grateful for so no one else could really look at you rather it was on purpose or not you mentally thanked the alpha.

"I am Mirio Togata, your Butler for today will be here shortly! Don't hesitate to ask if you need anything."

'Mirio Togata....why did that sound so familiar?'

your head was so clouded that you forgot he was part of the Big three, a practical legend at U.A.

Before he left he looked left, then right and whispered "Your Butler is very shy and reserved so please don't mind him, he really is a nice person".

He gave you a Curt bow and then walked away.

You decided to skim over the menu, deciding that you would get a tea, that's all you could afford, when you left home you didn't think to bring anymore money than $4.75 because that was the price of the bubble tea, ethier way that was all you were willing to spend..Even with living in the dorms with your class 1-A they were all territorial about there belongings especially there food (Especially since most of your class were alpha's) occasionally the microwaved ramen noodles was shared and occasionally take out thanks to Momo's wealth but you kinda felt guilty for using the Alpha's wealth. what were you doing here? What in the actual heck were you doing here with all these beautiful, prestine, rich as heck customers? You are a broke college student.

"P-p-princess?"

The small innocent question pulled you away from your thoughts to catch a glimpse of your server, you gulped he was hot. An indigo haired Alpha with eyes to match, honestly before you caught his scent of spices you thought he was an omega like you due to his shaky posture and voice. He was wearing a tail suit that matched Mirio's, his posture shaky and he held a small book to take an order.

"My name is A-Amajiki Tamaki, I'll be your B-Buttler today" he bowed before carrying on

"M-may I get you anything to drink princess? M-mabey something hot?"

"Ah. Um...I...I think I will be leaving."

You turned to get your bag when the Alpha scooted into the seat next to you.

"Are you okay, Omega?" He asked worry laced in his voice and eyes.

"Yes?....No?.....Maybe?.....I don't know I'm a mess right now.." you went on explaining what had happened at the other cafe and how you felt so meaningless amongst your Piers (Leaving out the fact you were a U.A student), he occasionally showed he was listening by nodding his head and....was that a growl you heard?

Tamaki didn't show it but he was P.I.S.S.E.D. 'Didn't there mother's ever show them how to treat an Omega?!? An adorable, tiny, sweet smelling one of all!'

After the deed was done you were crying again and it hit you that you just told your problems to a random adorable Alpha.

He watched as you took your hand up to your face wiping away a stray tear, removing your hand from your face he noticed a black smudge on your hand that he could only assume was make-up.

He suddenly got up from the table and held his hand out to you, you hesitated for a moment but grabbed on, he started walking with you in toe to a door that had the word "Private" printed on a little gold rectangle close to the door that you came in from

By his pace you could guess that whatever he was doing, he wasn't supposed to be.

He opened the door and poked his head in to make sure no one was there and opened it a little bit more, gesturing you inside quickly.

"T-This is where we change i-into butlers.." Tamaki said as he held the door open a little wider for you. The room you could obviously tell was a changing room with wardrobes lining the walls with a few vanities and mirrors scattered on a few of the walls.

"Stay here f-for a sec please"

You could tell he dropped the act, he was still shy and muttering but you could tell he was at least trying to stop it from shining through as a butler. You saw as the Alpha grabbed a white towel from a close by hamper, you didn't see this but he rubbed the towel against his scent glands...just to calm you down..... totally not to make you smell like him....

The purple haired Alpha handed you the towel and watched you dry off your hair, when he turned around to grab something else he heard a quiet voice "Y/N...My name is Y/N L/N.."

The alpha smiled a small bit 'Y/N...what a beautiful name'

"W-wait here Y/N"

You watched the timid alpha leave the area, you waited a few seconds before bringing the towel to your nose inhaling his comforting scent...

'He is such a kind alpha....you should try to court him!' Your omega chirped

"NO! We only just met him"

'Get to know him better. That simple.'

"Wow that simple for sure"

'Exactly!'

"🙄"

While to were arguing with your omega in the other room....

'I think they wouldn't mind having dry clothes....' Tamaki thought to himself, tho he had a feeling they would be to tiny to fit his clothes well, he was tempted to get one of the smaller alpha's clothes that had the night shift but there was always a chance they could get out early and find there clothes gone, so he grabbed his own clothes and 'borrowed' a belt from one of the other alpha's wardrobe, they wouldn't miss a belt to much..

He came back in to the room, clothes freshly scented, seeing the Omega look prideful and irritated, like they just had got into an argument and won.

By the time the argument between you and your omega was over he was back, you had won...for now, and he was carrying a pile of neatly folded clothes.

" u-umm here Omega, your clothes look really wet, and there is n-no way you can warm up in them, t-these are my clothes you don't have to take them if you don't want to but I thought they would be more comfortable..."

You gently grabbed the clothes from the Alpha and thanked him, looking down at the clothes it was a biege sweater with a pair of denim jeans, you could obviously see they were going to be way to big for your tiny body but over sized sweaters where a thing and you were sure you could fit the jeans around your waist with they help of a belt.

"Thank you alpha!" You purred at the soft eyed alpha.

Completely forgetting about his existen in the room for a second you took off your jacket looking up to see the alpha with his head against a wall, with a blush redder that the desssert sand.

" u-uh omega.... your blouse"

You looked down to see what he was talking about to see..your blouse was see through do to the rain....'Well a half decent day to be wearing my good bra..' you thought to yourself only for a second when you remembered THIS 👏 ISN'T 👏 YOUR 👏 ALPHA👏 Your eyes widened about to let out a chirp, but you managed to stop your self remembering that the alpha was only trying to be kind, he wasn't trying to peep, and you were about 90% sure you weren't supposed to be in a butler wardrobe room another alpha hearing your chirp could drive them to come in and see you there leading the nice alpha to lose his job...with all these things in mind you were able to suppress the chirp.

"U-Um sorry about that, umm could you please keep turned or go to a different room while I change please?"

"N-no problem" the alpha said still looking like the red sand from the dessert.

The alpha left the room grabbing a few other things while you pulled up the jeans and pulled the sweater over your head. Like you expected they were both way to big but luckily the alpha suspected that and brought you a belt.

"Alpha! You can come back In now" you chirped.

A few seconds later the alpha came back in and stopped dead in his track's to take you in.

"THEY ARE ADORABLE!" You were practically drowning in the jeans with them pooling at your feet as were the sleeves and you were snuggling into the sweater like it was the softest thing on earth!

"U-uh you look nice! I'm I just thought you might want to dry off your hair..." Tamaki spoke as he held out a miniature hair dryer and brush

"Thanks!" you said as you looked for an outlet

"uhh alpha where can I plug this in?"

He had to stiffle a giggle as he led you over to the vanity and plugged it in, he handed back to you and you attempted to turn it on.

"ah...the thing is really finiky, here let me help." he said as he grabbed the hair dryer and brush from you he fiddled with it for a few seconds before it finally turned back on

You were just expecting him to hand the items back to you but to your surprise he started to blow dry and brush your hair for you, tho you had to admit you were a little worried what the coffee was going to do to your hair but surprisingly it didn't do anything.

You couldn't help but let out a content pur.

He then turned your chair around so you were facing him and grabbed a makeup wipes that seemed to appear out of thin air, you suddenly felt your self getting anxious again and held out your arms in a weak attempt to stop him from wiping off the melted makeup from your face.

"What's wrong omega?" Tamaki asked hastily, worried he did something wrong. You were silent for a few moments and muttered something

"I-Im sorry but could you repeat that? I didn't quite hear you the first time.."

You then again muttered to quietly for even the person with the sharpest sences to hear.

"umm one more time please?"

"I look ugly without it.."

You muttered again weakly, you knew the melted makeup looked terrible but it still covered up your... plainness?

Tamaki grabbed your outstretched arms gently lowering them he looked up at you from his kneeling position his brows furrowed.

"Y/N I-I doubt sieriously you could be ugly.." he said shyly as he reached up again with the wipe in hand, looking you in the eyes for permission. With a deep breath you nodded and felt the moisture of the wipe hit your face.

In little time you could feel him pull away and put the wipe in the garbage.

'Wow..' Tamaki thought to himself you were drop dead gorgeous! Why did you want to cover it?

"Y-your really pretty!" The Alpha stated squeezing his eyes shut, opening them again to see a blushing Y/N in front of them

"T-thanks.."

Soon after he snook you back to the diner section. Taking off the wait on other patrons.

You felt more comfortable now that you fit in a bit better but there was still an echoing voice in your head repeating all the bad things the alpha's said to you.

Amajki noticing this came over with a small plate in his hand and placed it in front of you. It was a fruity looking parfait and a cup of Chaì tea.

Was he being sweet or trying to make you spend money? You don't really know.

"Thank you alpha but I don't think I can afford this, I only got a few yin on hand"

"D-Dont worry about it! It's a new recipe the chef was trying out and wanted it to be tasted!"

With that the alpha left and went to take an order from another patron.

With the reasurance you wouldn't be charged you picked up a spoon and took a small bite, immediately an explosion of sweet fruit and cream took over your mouth and immediately went for another bite. Your omega was purring so loud you thought the whole cafe could here! Unbeknownst to you the alpha was smiling as he looked over at your pleased face.

He came over again a few moments after you finished the parfait and presented you with Matcha Macroons before noticing the cream that was on the side of your lip

Adorableness level: upgrade

You looked up at him disappoinment in your features

"thank you so much for everything but I think I need to be heading back to my dorm or my friends will think I got kidnapped!"

Spoiler alert: THEY DID

"A-at least stay untill the rain stops."

You looked up at the window and saw the rain hadn't lessened.

Sighing knowing you were going to get a lecture later on from your classmates you agreed to stay.

Tamaki presented you with dish after dish the next more delicious than the last while conversating with you, when you noticed it stopped raining you were actually a little disappointed, you were quite enjoy your self but you knew you had to get home.

You stood up and saw Tamaki rush over to you.

"Thank you so much for... everything! But I gotta go now my dorm mates are probably about to send a search party my way"

Tamaki looked out the window and saw it had stopped raining, disappointed playing on his features.

"W-wait here a sec omega!" Without giving you a chance to answer he rushed into the room again and came out a few seconds later with a large bag and went into the kitchen appearing again after a few minutes and bolted over to you.

"h-here are your clothes from earlier t-they dryed off but I would still recommend washing them."

You took the bag and the alpha walked away without a word, with a heavy heart you walked out and headed down the stairs and went to desk seeing the omega who greeted you earlier, knowing not all of what Tamaki gave you was free the omega slid you over the check and- OH MY GOD YOU KNEW THIS PLACE WAS EXPENSIVE BUT YOU WRACKED UP 20,761.40¥! The omega obviously able to sence your worry grabbed your hand and calmly stated:

"Don't worry dearie Amajiki payed for it in full and- are those his clothes?"

"Ah- umm-well you see-"

"Shhhh it's okay dear I'm not going to fire Amajiki, that was a kind thing he did and that boy is so shy...I'm just happy you made him come out of his shell a bit. Feel free to come back anytime!"

The omega slowly slid over the receipt with a knowing grin and left to go to the backroom. You left the cafe and flipped over the flimsy paper to read:

To Y/n the omega that looks just as adorable without makeup as she does with cream in her face.

With a number neatly scrawled underneath it, you knew a few things that were going to happen in the future, you knew when you got back to the dorms you would get a lecture, you knew you would have to pull an all-nighter to get all the work done since you got barley any of it done at the cafe, and you knew when you got your phone charged you would be making a call.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bonus!:" WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU AVATAR?!" Said an angry bakugo when you entered the dorm, the scent of a whole bunch of worried alpha's filling your nose.

"Bakubro! Calm down! MIDORIYA! COME CALM DOWN YOUR ALPHA!" Said an anxious Kirishima trying weakly to hold his best friend back while waiting for Midoriya to show.

"WELL?!? WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU?!?!"

"Bakugo! That is an ill-mannered way of approching things! Y/N! You were so close to cutting curfew! You could've gotten in trouble!"

"Yes, yes Lida the school rules are important but Y/N is home safe now aren't they?" Said momo.

You were relived at first but then she went down to your level and whispered like a crazy person:

"If you ever make us worry for so long again say good bye to the free nesting materials I make you."

"YOU WOULDN'T!" You said shocked at the threat.

"Oh I would 100% do so if it became necessary."

"WELP IM GOING TO MY NEST NOW IF YOU WILL EXUSE ME!!"

Ya they didn't let you off so easy, you had to stay in the living room another hour for a lecture from EVERYONE.

After you were finally able to go to your room you crashed in your nest, plugged in your phone and sat up while you unpacked your clothes finding three mini Parfaits at the bottom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@vixenpen ummm yea I also think your an awesome writer and you said to notify you once it's done and I know it's not really your taste or at least I don't think it is but plz give me some criticism!

#omegaverse #comfort fic #adorable #bullying #mha tamaki

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