#the poor lotus prince not finding me

[mayorofmegapolis]

EHRRE DID YOU GO

I KNOW I SAE YOU

:D

[helleboretks]

Start with the Sides: Wukong's Demise

Yo yo yo wassup! If you haven't noticed already, me and @justalilgiddybibs decided to do a spur of the moment fic collab series because why the fuck not I guess XD-

I never actually expected for it to get to this point but I have absolutely no regrets!!! Xey're really fun to talk to and I highly suggest checking out the blog made by hem!

Getting right into it, this is a Lee!Wukong, Lers!MK and Nezha SFW Tickle fic! If this is not your forte, no need to read! This is also a part II to Hah! Got 'Em!!!

Summary: After yesterday's antics, MK is left with a slight ler mood. Wrecking the resident Third Lotus Prince again would be cruel- but what about teaching him how to wreck others?

MK was bored. Really bored.

Nothing had really stirred his usual boundless amounts of energy; Mei wasn’t here to play a good round or twenty of Monkey Mech, and Redson was home brooding and inventing like he always did, so MK didn’t have immediate company to keep him active. It was starting to build up on him, especially after yesterday’s sugar rush-like energy.

Speaking of yesterday, the entire event had left him itching to do it again, constantly tapping and wiggling his fingers. Funny how that happens, but he doesn’t really have anyone he can just unleash it on. And even with Nezha here, the guy had only just found out what tickling was, he wasn’t going to go that far. He needed some other way to release all this energy…

 Wait a minute.

“Pssst- Hey Nezha!” The Lotus Prince looked up from his bowl of noodles he was just finishing, attention caught.

“Yes? What is it?” MK smiled as Nezha responded, already feeling a deviousness in his grin. “So uh, I was thinking about yesterday, and-”

“MK, I swear to the Buddha above himself-“

“No no no, I’m not gonna tickle you again, don’t worry!” MK laughed, finding it silly the way Nezha relaxed after having tensed so quickly in embarrassment at the recollections of yesterday.

“Actually, I was thinking…” MK glanced over at his mentor, Wukong, who seemed thoroughly lost in thought while fiddling with the chopsticks Tang had idly handed him. He seemed as if the world was completely empty save for whatever thoughts were manifesting in his head.

“Monkey King was the one who started it, right? So, how about I teach you the art of tickling people, and we use him for example?” Nezha looked at MK skeptically for a moment, then over at Wukong. A rare smile formed on his face, and it was at times like these that he remembered that Nezha too, had a mischievous streak, spanning many centuries longer than MK’s.

“You’re sure he’ll be okay with that?” He asked, still slightly hesitant.

Macaque, who overheard the conversation (having six ears is really helpful for eavesdropping, huh?), leaned in and whispered into Nezha’s ear, ignoring for the time being the fact that the poor prince tensed up at it.

“I’m gonna be honest for once, princey, but he really enjoys it. It’s basically his way of saying that he trusts you a lot. He was probably hoping to be tickled in return yesterday, but was kinda let down when he realized you didn’t have a clue what the fuck it is. You didn’t hear it from me though, in case he asks.”

Nezha chuckled lightly at Macaque’s slyness, and MK took a moment to shuffle through every memory he had of tickling the daylights out of the Monkey King before all of this. Sure, he didn’t get to tickle him nearly as much as Wukong would to him, but knowing that bit of information now…

MK had never felt so honored before.

“Alright then. MK, how do I do this?” Nezha easily relented.

“One second.” MK said, getting off his stool and walking over to Wukong, who didn’t seem to have the slightest idea what was going on, given how spaced out he was. MK snuck up beside him and, with little hesitance, promptly picked him up from under the arms. Wukong shrieked in surprise.

“AAHHHH!! Holy shit Mk-what the fuck?!”

“You’ll see soon enough, Monkey King! Hey Nezha, follow me!” The Lotus Prince cleaned up his bowl and chopsticks, setting them aside and handing them off to Pigsy, who almost smiled. It’s always nice to see another person who appreciates home-cooked meals. After the run-in with Speedy Panda…ugh.

Nezha followed the sound of Wukong’s struggling, and found the two upstairs in MK’s apartment on the floor beside the bed. The young hero had Wukong’s arms pinned under his knees, and at this point he had stopped struggling and laid on the floor, mumbling something about his hands going numb. MK paid no attention to it. “Alrighty then, Nezha! Your first lesson in how to tickle people and get the best reactions commences now!”

“SAY WHAT NOW?!” Wukong’s eyes shot wide open at the statement.

“Oh, you’ll live, Monkey King! Besides, you’ve been wanting this, haven’t you?”

“Sh-shut up, kid! Now you’re just lying!” Wukong whined. MK only giggled at the half-hearted denial from his mentor.

“Alright, alright, shut up now! LESSON ONE!!!” MK shouted dramatically over top Wukong’s whining. “You gotta know all the techniques and where someone’s super ticklish! So, word of advice, if you wanna find out if someone’s ticklish, always start with the sides!”

And then to demonstrate, MK immediately started pinching at Wukong’s sides, causing the poor Sage to yelp and flinch every which way away from the fingers, not like it helped given that Mk had him pinned down, but it was a…valiant effort. Sort of.

“The sides are like, the most commonly ticklish area for anybody and everybody, so it’s always a safe bet to start there first! Ya feel me?” Nezha snorted slightly at the choice of words, but nodded and resolutely ignored the giggled whining and complaining of one Great Sage Equal to Heaven.

“Cool, cool, cool-WUKONG QUITE MOVING YA LITTLE-” You can’t blame the Lotus Prince for jolting at the sudden raise in MK’s voice, although given how playful his tone was and the stupid grin on his face, he wasn’t taking any of this too seriously at all.

Meanwhile, Wukong himself was giggling up a storm, squirming like his immortal life depended on it as he kicked his feet and slapped his tail to the ground.

“Stohohop pihihinching me thehehen! Kihihihid!!” Wukong responded back.

“Nuh uh, I gotta teach Nezha about the techniques, man. Think of the techniques!!”

Oh yeah, now MK was doing this mostly to mess with him.

Not like Nezha’s complaining though…

“Okay! So you see how I’m pinching him, right?” MK asked, turning his head to Nezha and ever so confident that taking his eyes off Wukong won’t change a thing.

“Yes?” Nezha responded, scooting closer and watching the motions with rapt attention.

And no, he would not admit how that made his own cheeks flush, or how it made butterflies flutter in his stomach.

“Is there anything special about it, MK?”

“Oh why yes there is, my dear Nezha.” Said ‘Dear Nezha’ gave him a questioning look. “You sound like one of those preachers from another religion-”

“SsshHHHshhhh shush shush shush, and let me speak my gospel-” MK wheezed in amusement, letting up on his hasty pinches and giving Wukong reprieve.

“So, you gotta make sure that you don’t pinch too hard, yeah? If you do, it’ll just hurt, and that’s not fun for anyone. So! You’ll wanna make sure that it’s quick and light, not enough to hurt, but enough to be felt.” He explained, going as far as to give a slow demonstration to what he was explaining.

Wukong’s breath hitched repeatedly as he bit down stray chuckles, burying his face into his shoulder, probably to silently deny just how embarrassing this must be for him.

“Oooh, I see, I see.” Nezha added verbally with a smile, a hint of pride welling up at noticing Wukong shrinking in on himself more at that.

“Would you like to give it a try?”

Nezha glanced up at MK, and simply smiled.

As MK moved his hands away, Wukong immediately renewed his struggling. “AH AH AH-WAIT! NO, I didn’t agree to this, this is non consensual!! HELP ME!!!” Wukong practically screamed, causing both Nezha and Mk to laugh at his embarrassed misery.

“No one’s here to save you, Monkey King! Now just be a good monkey and sit there so I can teach Nezha the wondrous ways of tickling.” MK spoke with faux somberness in his tone, patting the monkey on the head as Wukong wriggled around.

Now, Here’s the thing.

Nezha is reflexively fast. He has to be, he always has been. It’s what comes with being a guard.

Implementing that into a more harmless pinching motion was honestly pretty easy.

He did not, however, account for Wukong’s reaction.

The monkey let out a shriek at Nezha’s quick jabbing, his feet dragging frantically against the floor as he jolted and yelped at every quick little jab.

“My goodness, Nezha you’re quick with that shit, this is amazing actually hold on-” MK commented, and Nezha honestly couldn’t help the little chuckle that escaped him if he wanted.

Because this was fun. Doing this quick little pinches up and down Wukong’s sides, watching him squirm like that so helplessly, giggling feverishly all throughout, it was funny to watch, and fun to do.

Yeah, he could absolutely see the appeal in it.

“Oh oh oh! Lemme show you something!” MK said, deciding not to stop Nezha from having his fun as he then went to skim his fingers along Wukong’s ribs, causing Wukong’s pitch to heighten and his laughter to grow louder.

“It’s funnier when you have more than one person involved in the tickling, but besides that, Wukong’s got some pretty sensitive ribs, so there’s this really funny game you can make out of it!” MK explained, catching Nezha’s attention as he started scritching all along Wukong’s ribs.

Wukong choked on a laugh, throwing his head back and shaking his head a few times as MK went on to explain and demonstrate. “So, we’re basically going to be ‘counting’ if he’s got all his ribs in place. Cause like, ya never know with this one right here-” The Monkie Kid said with a light roll of his eyes.

“Nezha, I’d humbly request you to tell me-how many ribs do we normally have?” MK asked, putting a dramatic tone into his voice that had Nezha scoffing. “Twenty four, MK. We have twenty four.” He answered dutifully.

“Well, are we sure that Wukong has all twenty four? I mean, for all we know, he could have lost some in all his battles or something! Oh, you poor, poor monkey, I’ll help you, don’t worry Monkey King!” MK wiped a fake tear just to emphasize, which only caused Wukong to hiccup with laughter.

“So I found one, y’know! And here’s two, and we got three over here-” Nezha himself flushed a great shade of red as he watched the way MK dug into Wukong’s ribs like no tomorrow, the theatrics he put up were almost as impressive as Macaque’s, because Wukong was really starting to laugh up a storm right now.

“NAHahAHaha! StAHAP- MK!! AHAHAHAHA, PLehEHEhease!” Wukong has already resorted to pleading, and they weren’t even ten minutes into this, barely even five.

Yeah, okay, MK was scarily good at this.

But also…Mei…

Nezha shivered to himself.

“Ooooh maaah gaaawd-Monkey King stop moving or else I can’t count all your ribs! It’s like you’re- AUDIBLE GASP!! ARE YOU HIDING SOMETHING FROM ME!?” MK yelled out, throwing his head back to give Wukong some serious side eye.

Wukong, for all he tried, shook his head hastily, his nose all scrunched up as his blush only deepened from what could practically be described as torture from his successor.

Maybe not actual torture, but it sure looked like it!

“I think you’re hiding something from me and I WILL GET IT!! AAAAAAAAAAH-” Now even Nezha couldn’t help but dissolve into laughter as Mk let out a battlecry- a battlecry of all things!- digging into Wukong’s ribs and making the monkey go ballistic with the ticklish sensation.

“KIHIHIHID!! FAHAHAHAHA- STAHA- STAHAHAHAP! I CAHAHAN’T-AAAAAHAHA-!” Wukong cried out desperately, and for a second, Nezha was worried that he really couldn’t take it.

But when he actually looked up at MK and Wukong, he took notice of something.

As much as MK was joking around beyond multiple extremes, he seemed to be..paying rapt attention to Wukong, as if there would be a sign of some sort that would tell him if… Wukong’s had enough.

‘Ah.’ Nezha thought. ‘They probably do have a sign.’

That attention to detail, that level of care despite this tomfoolery…it was sweet. He wouldn’t deny it. It was really sweet.

(No, he doesn’t want that kind of attention, though! I-it’s just a sweet thing to take note of, okay? He’s not- like, craving that or anything!)

“By the Gods, you might actually kill him.” Nezha couldn’t help but mutter, surprised and unsurprised that MK ended up hearing that despite Wukong’s frantically loud laughter.

“Oh my gods, can you kill an immortal by tickling? I mean like, you can die by it-”

“Excuse me?”

“But I never considered the possibility.”

MK finally slowed down his downright malicious ministrations, and Wukong practically choked on the air he greedily inhaled as he caught his breath. But now the boy was really thinking about it- like, hand to his chin in deep, otherworldly thought kind of thinking.

“Let’s not test that out now, MK. You’re teaching me, not trying to kill a god.” Nezha said with a light hearted chuckle.

“Yeheheah! Yeah-kid, plehehease no, don’t do thahat.” Wukong nodded fervently, clearly filled with nervousness as MK practically stared into his soul.

“...Nezha. I must bestow some very important information onto you.” MK muttered, clearly trying to make this sound very, very important and serious. And as much as Nezha would probably never be able to know if tickling could turn into that kind of serious, he at least knew that it perhaps was important.

So, for fun’s sake, he played along.

“Yes, MK? Whatever piece of information will you bestow upon me that requires such an important incline in your tone?” MK almost broke character, taking a minute not to laugh at the longer than necessary sentence.

“There are certain places on the body that are very sensitive, Nezha. Of course, that’s a given, the nerves in our bodies do flippity things to cause stimuli because biology says so.” MK says with a dismissive hand wave.

“But there are some parts of the body that are so sensitive that it’s actually a little concerning.” Nezha noticed from his peripheral the way Wukong practically froze with tension, coming to a conclusion very rapidly.

“Kid! Hey, nO! None of that!” Wukong complained, but Mk just playfully shoved his forehead and continued talking all business-like.

Nezha struggled so hard to take this seriously, but he nodded along just fine.

“These particular spots are what we like to call, Death Spots.” MK finally said, jolting a little as Wukong struggled underneath him. “MK! MK SHUT UP RIGHT NOW-!!”

“HUSH, MONKEY KING, I’M MAKING HISTORY HERE!!! LET ME WORK MY MAGIC!” MK shouted right back, before quickly jabbing Wukong in the hips, the sage letting out a stray squeal that quite frankly made Nezha himself chuckle a little bit.

“Now, let me tell you about Monkey King’s Death Spots-”

And let Nezha tell you the way MK yelped as he got kneed in the damn back.

Nezha himself jolted backwards as MK whipped his head over to Wukong in alarm, who had an expression that very clearly read ‘oh shit’ all over it.

There was a long, suffering silence.

“You did not just hit me.”

“MK- kid-”

“Monkey King. Wukong. Great Sage Equal to goddamn Heaven, tell me you did not just hit me.”

Nezha slid away. Just a bit. You know. To save himself.

“Kid please I’m sorry-”

“Lesson two, Nezha. Lesson two.” The Lotus Prince almost flinched himself at the maniacal grin on MK’s face. “And this one is specifically tailored to god damn, motherfuckin’ Wukong.”

“MK have mercy on me please-”

“If this bitch deserves it, show no fucking mercy.”

And then MK proceeded to strike two places at once.

Wukong let out the loudest damn scream that Nezha has ever heard-and probably will ever hear-out of his mouth in centuries as MK started nibbling away at his neck, and scribbling into his belly remorselessly.

Nezha himself yelped, face turning pink in pure second hand in embarrassment as Wukong screamed and shrieked and laughed like his life depended on it. The monkey thrashed, writhed and squirmed as much as he could, but MK held steadfast, nibbling and ‘nom nom nomming’ away at his neck and scribbling ceaselessly against his belly, on every goddamn side.

“KAHAHAHAHA- PLE- NAHAHAHAHA IHIHIHIHI CAHAHAHA- AAAAAAAAH!! FAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA-!” Wukong couldn’t make one lick of a sentence from all that attention, and it seemed to be driving him up the goddamn wall.

At some point, he was able to free one hand.

That, however, proved to be a mistake.

MK showed no mercy and began drilling into the underarm of his free hand, the sage knocking his head against the ground with just how fast he had flung it back. His legs were kicking furiously, his tail slapping on the ground with a quick thump thump thump like it didn’t know what else to do. And based on how much he was holding back the power he definitely had to throw off his mentee, both of them were clearly having fun.

And Nezha sat there, hands over his face yet peeking through the fingers to watch this… spectacle.

MK, to make matters worse, had the most deadpan expression he could muster, channeling the pure energy of ‘boredom’ into his act like this was another normal Tuesday afternoon.

Oh gods, that was just horrifying.

Horrifyingly funny, yeah, but horrifying nonetheless.

Wukong laughed and laughed until he started hiccuping, and then laughed even more. He barely even seemed to be getting any air, and even if he was immortal and technically didn’t need air, that flush of exertion was telling a whole different story and he seemed beside himself with a heavy case of mush brain.

The butterflies in Nezha’s stomach flapped tenfold and he involuntarily scrunched in on himself, watching with so much attention he very faintly recognizes he should probably not have. But he couldn’t help it! It was in his face, it was in his ears and it was in the way his shoulders hunched up, subconsciously protecting his own neck in the way Wukong most certainly couldn’t copy.

He doesn’t know how long that absolute torture must have gone on for, he doesn’t even know why MK has such freakishly insane lung capacity for this (he’d know from experience that the kid probably wouldn’t have stopped last time if Pigsy hadn’t told him to cut it out.), but finally at some point, Wukong’s laughter had gone on so long that he’d grown hoarse, and he tapped MK’s shoulder three times- like a sign.

MK let up- so that was the stop signal- and eased off Wukong as the poor monkey gasped for relief. Wukong curled in on himself once MK had rolled off of him, giggling nonsensically to himself as he seemed entirely out of this plane of existence alone.

So…Death Spots were really that bad, huh?

Oh Buddha, someone save him.

“See? Sometimes you just gotta show no mercy and give him shit for it.” MK shrugged with a grin, as if he hadn’t actually almost killed the Great Sage himself, via tickling.

Nezha stared in shock-and mild mortification-at this kid.

That… he didn’t even want to know how that must have felt.

“...fuck.” Was all Nezha could mutter.

“...fuck-” MK repeated, cutting himself off to let out a loud wheeze, laughing to himself as he sidled up next to Wukong.

“Monkey King, are you dead? Did you die? Did you lose your immortality-why are your pupils so big???” MK laughed even harder as Nezha took note that yes, Wukong’s pupils did in fact dilate hard.

“Wukong?” Nezha called out, holding in a laugh at how absolutely unresponsive the other was.

But his tail was wagging, so he’ll take that as a good sign.

“Told you he’d enjoy it-”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAA-!”

MK and Nezha screamed in surprise at the new arrival, and Macaque, who had just entered the room, was smiling in amusement at Wukong like he personally won the lottery.

Now that he had the brain to control his body again, the ghost tickles that hadn’t yet registered now had started coming in, Wukong squirmed quite a bit, clearly still a bit tuckered out. MK patted his mentor on the head, and gently rubbed off the remaining phantom sensations. “Too far?” He asked.

“Wuh- Nah, y-you’re good, kihid.” Wukong assured him.

Nezha held back a squeal at how adorable Wukong looked after the heavy bout of ticklish fever- Because no he was not going to squeal at adorable monkey business he has not sunk that low yet- and then he turned to MK. “So, is everyone that ticklish?”

“Not everyone in the world per se, but if you’re thinking of everyone here? Yeah, I’d say pretty close.”

“I see…”

“So yeah, if you ever want to at least try getting revenge on Mei-”

Oh, oh yeah no, he knows a losing battle when he sees one.

MK, on the other hand…

“No, I’ve got a better idea.” 

Without further warning, He leapt clear over Wukong and instantly pinned MK to the cushiony mattress beside the monkey. “I would like to remind you of what you did to me yesterday- Don’t think you’re getting away scot-free just because you showed me how to destroy that little shit.”

“W-wahait, Nezha-” MK looked around for a means of escape, then called out to Wukong who, despite being absolutely demolished not even a minute ago, seemed to get back some coherence.

“Monkey King! Mohonkey King help me!” Nezha glanced over at Wukong to see what he would do, given his student was pretty much in danger. Wukong, of course, didn't seem to give a rat's ass about MK in that moment.

He proceeded to roll right off the bed, hitting the ground with a “Just like he said, Nezha. Start with the sides.”

Sometimes, Nezha forgets how petty that monkey can be.

Then again, he's not really complaining.

[weaverpop]

lil heads up i have some agnst to offer

so we know Mk is gonna be struggling with his decision at the pillar in S5, the idea that he might of made the wrong choice after all. its def gonna be a dark thought in his mind. also still struggling with his monkie form as at this point it's still associated with the whole "harbinger of chaos" thing and thus is seen as a bad thing currently in his eyes. not to mention a blow to his self identity. the therapy helps but he's still struggling with those thoughts,and his monkey body, still not really touching on them. and then the nightmares start. he dreams of what might of happened had he not been able to get the stones to work, he dreams of what bad things might happen in the future now that the mortal realm has been altered. what it was the nine-headed demon was trying to warn him about, and the chaos. sometimes even he dreams about how everyone might of had better lives in the new cycle. how Nezha and his family couldn't have been happier from the start. some are so bad they even cause panic attacks on occasion

this leads to one night when Nezha's spending the night and is woken up to the sound of glass breaking, and MK isn't in bed with him. he finds him huddled in a tight ball, hyperventilating on the bathroom floor body flashing between human and monkey, one had cut up to hell from punching the mirror which is completely smashed. seeing nezha he just starts rambling off apologies, for fucking up the world, for dooming them, for stealing a chance for a happier timeline. he's convinced himself he's being punished and the dreams are visions because of how detailed and vivid they are. which honestly I wouldn't put it past that, we don't know what happened to Nuwa and many ppl think she'd try to convince or force MK back to the pillar somehow. but it's just as if not more likely MK's long term built-up trauma, feelings of guilt, and paranoia, projecting themselves as really lucid nightmares.

Tw for heavy angst and senstitove topics!

Oof, why you gotta do my heart like that anon?!

You’ve basically got mk down pat! Poor boy been through so much 😭it’s already canon he has nightmares, so it would make sense that they would escalate after the whole self sacrifice thing.

I also love the visual of Nezha finding mk in that state, switching beteeen forms. I feel like after s5 mk would be spending more time in monkey form and less time in human. To the point where ‘human’ becomes more of a glamor. So for Nezha to see him flickering like that is a huge statement to MK’s mental state! He’s struggling and struggling HARD. The others don’t really understand because they’ve never been in that situation where it was either them personally, or the WORLD. But you know who has?

Nezha.

Nezha has done that before in a similar copasity. He’s had to sacrifice himself to save the ones he loves. To know what it’s like to be destined for tragedy. But he came out the other end.

It’s Nezha, the formerly proclaimed demon child, bringer of terrible luck, lotus prince, who is able to see mk for what he needs. The others love Mk, they tell him so, but they don’t understand the way Nezha does.

Nezha helps to comfort mk. He doesn’t tell mk it was wrong. He doesn’t tell him it’s ok. Nezha simply tells him that he’s there for Mk. He tells Mk that everyone is alive, that he made the right choice in the end, and that he couldn’t be happier with the outcome.

It’s not easy. It’s not a one and done deal. But it starts the healing process.

This is one of the main reasons I ship lotusnoodle. Because the parallels are amazing, and I could absolutely see Nezha doing this even platonically. So yea.

Also jail for anon for making me feel things!

[uh-niran-really]

AAAA sososo many ideas, im welcoming myself back into your inbox HAHA!

Prince! Niran au x fem reader please! One where reader is his personal maid and he absolutely spoilsss her, jewelry, fancy clothing, etc etc and she falls head over heels for him. Reader one day plans to confess her feelings to the prince, even tho the chances were slim, she dreamed of being together with him. She was supposed to call him to talk to him in private when she finds him in the garden with lady satya(shes a noble from a highly respected family here so shes 100% fit to marry him)

Reader gets incredibly insecure and upset, so she leaves. She rushes to the king to get herself resigned from her job, too upset to face niran Knowing that she won't ever be able to have him.

Little did the reader know Niran was talking to lady satya on how to get his father to approve of marrying his maid! :00 hes yapping to her about how shes the love of his life, wants to marry her, and when satya tells him the chances were slim he takes her hands and looks at her dead in the eyes, completely serious, and tells her that he's willing to drop everything in his life, his wealth, his status, etc etc just to live a normal life with reader 🥹

Satya sighs in defeat knowing she cant stop him so instead she helps him plan on what to say to the king

When niran comes back to his room hes hella excited but everything in his world Falls apart when he sees a different maid in his room. He kindly tells her to leave but snaps rlly badly when she tells him the reader resigned and shes his new maid now.

Maid gets scared and leaves while niran has a panic attack and a full blown break down in his room, trashing everything and crying his eyes out. He eventually goes out tho and proceeds to yell and order at guards to find reader

Meanwhile, more drama :00

Reader is lost in the forest! :00

She went to the forest to calm down, take a walk with nature but ended up being lost and going too deep in the forest to be in contact with anyone. Shes stuck there for days, health slowly deteriorating as she slowly starves and become dehydrated.

Niran is DEPRESSED. constantly lashing out on guards to search faster or send out more men despite his family refusing his wishes(making his breakdown worse)

To the point that satya had to be over there CONSTANTLY bc he needed constant support or he'll probably self destruct😭

He hasnt eaten or slept in days, leading to satya begging him to do something about his health, anything at all, a bite of food, a wink of sleep. ANYTHING.

But he refuses until he finds her.

Idk how to transition but angsty angst 😈

Once reader is found hes practically yelling at the guards to take her to the clinic to get her checked, for the chefs to make her a hearty and healthy meal, for the doctors to get her checked properly, all while he stressed for her health and safety

Poor boy kept passing out by her side multiple times and panicking when he wakes up due to a nightmare or bc he was scared that she woke up and he wasnt there

For the ending of this hospital sequence, 👀continue the angst bc id like to see how u continue this but the actual story- end it off with happy fluffy ending where he convinces his dad to marry her after he explains the real reason why satya and him were in the garden that day TEEHEE THANK U 🤭

Fem Maid Reader x Prince Lifeweaver - Flirting with Prince Pruksamanee

Content: Angst and Sweet Royal Fluff

Word Count: 6,000+ (oops 🫢)

A/N: Oh my I loved writing this one for you dear! Ahhh such a delight. Our darling Niran is so regal! I love him! Let me know if you want a part 2 to this? Maybe them navigating royal life and having their babies (or making them 👀) But ahhh seriously, I loved this! Thank you as always for your beautiful prompts! Can’t get enough of them!

“It’s beautiful my prince!”

You stand in front of the floor length mirror admiring the new necklace the prince had brought for you. It was a gorgeous gold chain with a rose gold lotus flower charm on it.

“It looks lovely on you my lady.” His words sincere, voice as charming as ever, smile soft and regal.

It always surprised you when he honoured you with such a title, especially since you weren’t noble in anyway. You were just his maid.

“What’s the occasion?”

“Must there be one? You work so hard and don’t you deserve a token of my appreciation?”

You smile at him. Although he was royalty he was so humble and gracious about it. You were his maid but he treated you as if you and him were equals. You loved that about him. He brought you beautiful dresses and gorgeous heels, along with the most exquisite jewellery to match. He allowed you to model it all for him, loving the way they made you look. You often couldn’t wear such things outside of his room, but he kept them for you for whenever you wished to be something you weren’t. He could never resist watching you twirl for him.

“I want you to have this on you always. It’s like a good luck charm. I want you to think of me.”

“I already do my prince.”

Typically you didn’t wear his jewelled gifts outside of the room either. Niran feared you would be seen as a thief, a commoner who only sort to steal from the prince, though you did want to steal something, his heart.

“Then aren’t you just the world’s most perfect girl.”

You fell so hard for him it’s a wonder that you could still do your job. He was a massive flirt, but also kind, honest, genuine. Everything a prince should be, but often weren’t. His brother was a brat. You loved him for how he treated others and for how he prided himself on helping the environment. He was perfect, truly. One day you would confess your love for him, fantasising about running away together. Though sadly he was a prince and soon you were about to learn that the hard way.

——🪷——

“Lady Satya! Oh how lovely to see you.”

“Yes, though we do see each other rather often don’t you think?”

Lady Satya Vaswani of Vishkar. The princes closest friend. Also his betrothed lover. Niran was to marry her due to her status. She was of nobility, and a rather high up one. He didn’t have much of a choice in the matter, though he could hardly complain, she was perfect for him in every way. Kind, beautiful, fierce. Niran was fairly certain she was chosen for her ability to reign him in when he got a little wild. Something she always did when they were kids. They looked like the perfect couple. And yet…

“Yes, I suppose you are right. Are you well?”

“Yes, and you Prince Niran?”

The two began to walk around the garden, Lady Satya holding on to his arm. They often loved to walk around the Biolight garden, watching the roses bloom and sneak a peak at the happy couple. These flowers were alive and of the Prince’s own creation, living light. A fascinating invention that saw the Prince propel in popularity. He saved a whole village from starvation one winter. Quite remarkable. The flowers did love the couple, wanting to grow tall whenever they were near, battling one another to sneak a glance at the prince and his lady. Such a perfect couple. And yet….

“Lovely weather we’re having my lady.”

“What’s bothering you my Prince?”

The lady stopped walking, favouring a particular rose that warmed to her right away. It’s delicate petals spreading out to show her its beauty, sharp thorns dulling to show it wasn’t a danger, scent as sweet as a real rose. It was desperate to be plucked.

“Im sorry but, I have something to confess to you.”

Unbeknownst to him you were heading out to the garden. You needed to tell the prince how you felt. He was your reason for happiness. He was so kind, so perfect, so undeniably meant for you. You needed to confess these feelings because you were sure he felt the same way, and if he didn’t, surely he could see your point. You rounded the corner and spotted him with Lady Satya, your heart sank as you heard his next words.

“I’m in love my lady.”

In love. He was in love. With.. her? Of course he was. They had known each other for years at this point. The prince spoke of her often, such sweet words, never a negative thing to say. You watched them, two lovers spending their time among the roses, laughing, giggling, chatting. She was to be his Queen. She was to give him an heir to the throne. They were built to last.

You felt sick to your stomach. You had seen enough of them to know where his heart was. You couldn’t take it anymore, so ran. Away from them. Away from the heart break. Away from him.

“I’m in love with my maid.”

“How typical of you my Prince.”

He grinned at her. She knew him better than anyone, she knew he was serious. He was practically swooning at the thought of you.

“Oh my lady, she’s the one.”

He danced around the roses, being his typical dramatic self, pouring his heart out. Singing love ballads. Lady Satya watched on in amusement at her best friend. She wasn’t thrilled at the idea of marrying him, she didn’t want the pressure of being a Queen, let alone all the duties that came with it. She was quite happy to sit back and let him enjoy this one.

“Oh she’s perfect. You should see the way she looks dressed up in fine dresses, adorned with the most beautiful jewels on her skin. Uhhh I’m in love.”

“In happy for you my Prince, but… are we not to marry? Your father will not like this.”

“You know as well as I do that this is not what we both want my lady.”

“Yes, I do believe I broke your heart with that news years ago.” She giggled.

It was true. At one point in time he was in love with her. Smitten by the idea of making her his. She had plenty of the requirements to be courted by him. She was regal and elegant, had stunning beauty, incredibly smart. But she never felt the same way. If they were to marry it wouldn’t be for romantic love. A thought that broke his heart. They would have children sure, but that would be no fun. He was torn at the thought. But then he met you, his gorgeous little maid. Oh the way he thought of you was enough to make angels cry. Too many times had he stopped himself from kissing your gorgeous lips. Too many times had he stopped himself from confessing his undying love. Too many times had he started at you, wishing he could have you instead.

“But now I have her. She’s the one. Help me convince my father to break off our agreement. I love her Satya.”

He hardly ever used her name without her title, unless it was something of high importance, such as this. He took her hands in his, gazing into her golden irises, pleading with her.

“My Prince..”

“Please.. I’m willing to drop everything for her. My wealth, title, succession, anything. I’d be willing to live a commoners life just to be with her. Do you understand how I feel? She’s the love I need in this life. If he says no.. well I might just run away anyway..”

Lady Satya gasped. What he was saying was weirder than usual, but she understood on some level. Love was often unexpected. She found herself seeing the beauty in a common life. Maybe he did too.

“I beg of you, do not deny me this request.”

“How could I refuse a direct request from you, my Prince.”

——🪷——

You had ran straight to the King, begging for an audience with him, claiming it was of the upmost importance, concerning his son. You were seen rather quickly, for the King feared his son were ill or worse. The Prince did like to get into trouble.

“My King.. I wish to resign.. I can’t work for you any longer.”

The King said nothing, expecting more from you. He wanted an explanation, surely these theatrics weren’t for nought. You drop to your knees to beg for a termination in your contract. You understood what this meant. You would be banished from the castle, forced to live elsewhere. You just couldn’t face Niran anymore.

“I’ve grown too attached.. I fear I cannot effectively work closely to the Prince any longer.. please.. I beg of you my King.”

“What’s changed. You’ve been with him for quite sometime yes? Has he done something to make you uncomfortable?”

“No my King.. the Prince is nothing but kind to me. I am but a lowly maid.. yet he treats me with such generosity..”

“I see. Very well, you shall be replaced. You may go.”

Although your heart broke, it was the right thing to do. You couldn’t work so closely with the man you loved, knowing he was promised to another. It would only get worse when he married lady Satya. You just couldn’t be around him like this anymore.

“Forgive me for the inconvenience.. My King.”

——🪷——

Niran practically ran back to his room, climbing the stone steps in his tower. The sun was set ablaze, much like his heart. He was going to confess his love for you. Lady Satya would seek an audience with the King claiming infidelity in Niran’s feelings. The King would then have no choice but to hear his son out. He would threaten to leave if nothing else worked. You were his lady. He couldn’t wait to see you, almost forgetting just how beautiful you were. He’d ask you to pick a dress, requesting you model it for him, before confessing his love to you. It would feel less pressured that way. It would feel like you were both equal in a way. He got to his door, straightening out his shirt, and tucking his hair neatly behind his ear. With a deep breath he opened the door and stepped inside.

“Y/N my lady I- Who are you?”

“Your new maid your highness.”

New maid. What was this person talking about. He hadn’t requested a new maid. He was so happy with the one he had. You were always so kind to him, not afraid of his status, his power.. You weren’t mindlessly serving him, you were living with him. You accepted his gifts with a smile. A smile he wouldn’t see again.

“Leave. I didn’t request a new maid.”

“Your old maid resigned your highness.”

Those words cut him deeper than any blade ever could. Why would you resign. Did he not treat you well enough? Had you met someone else? Why would you leave without saying goodbye. He tried so hard not to snap, but he just couldn’t control himself. He was in pain.

“I SAID LEAVE!” He picked up a vase of Biolight flowers and threw it at the wall in a fit of rage and heartbreak. “JUST GO!!”

The terrified maid, leaves, narrowly avoiding the pottery shards that smashed off of the wall. Niran couldn’t help but smash up his room. His desk was flipped, his notes flying everywhere. His bed sheets ripped off the bed, tearing in the process, due to the delicately thin silk. He screamed in a mix of anger and sadness. Why did you leave him? He flung his wardrobe open, tearing out the dresses he brought for you, being too critical of each one. Remarking how they weren’t pretty enough, how they looked to common. How the fabric wasn’t fancy enough. Tearing each of them into shreds before laying in the heap of fabric, scream crying for you to come back to him. His world was on fire, much like the sky that burnt so brightly as the sun began to set.

A royal knight came running to his room, hearing the prince in such distress, and seeing a maid running from his room, in tears.

“My Prince! What’s the matter?!” His thick German accent boomed over the sounds he made.

“FIND HER!” Niran screamed at him. He was shaking, practically tearing his hair out over it all. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think straight. He just needed you. “MY MAID Y/N! FIND HER! PLEASE!! PLEASE SIR WILHELM! BRING HER BACK TO ME!!”

“Yes my Prince.”

——🪷——

You walked through the forest with such childlike wonder. The trees towered above you as the suns rays penetrated down through the leaves, which gently swayed in the breeze. If you weren’t so heartbroken, this would be such a lovely memory. You thought of Niran again. He would be in his element here. His gorgeous cream hair flowing gently in the winds currents. You imagined flower petals getting caught in his hair, only adding to his beauty. Nature was his domain. Maybe that’s why you headed into the forest. A gentle reminder of the man you loved.

“You’d love it here.. wouldn’t you..”

You wondered deeper and deeper still, enchanted by all the wildflowers. Niran would know all their names, he’d recite interesting facts about each one, before getting self conscious, embrrassed by it all. He had such a pretty outlook on life. A life he shared with lady Satya now. Your eyes stung with tears. Every flower. Every tree. Every woodland creature. Everything reminded you of him. It hurt. Maybe leaving wasn’t the best idea.. What if he missed you? What if you confessed? The wind picked up and it started to rain. The gentle droplets mixed with your tears as you looked up to see a blanket of reds and pinks stretch across the sky. It was getting dark, the sun tiring from its hard days work. A gust of wind blows you forward making you lose your balance and stagger into a tree with a light thud.

Whilst the day made the forest look so heavenly, the night made it look like a bad dream. The tall trees towering over you menacingly. The moonlight shattering through the canopy, illuminating the swaying branches. Shadows looking like assassins waiting to pounce on you. You spun around, realisation hitting you straight in the face. You were lost. The dark made it so hard to tell which way you had come from. You had no food. No water. Nothing. You weren’t suppose to wonder this far into the forest. People went missing here. You would be one of them. You let out a scream, desperately hoping someone would hear you. Secretly hoping Niran would hear you, though you knew you were too far and beyond help.

——🪷——

It had been days. Days since the search for you began. Days since he saw you. He had every guard in the damn castle looking for you. His sister called him ridiculous, but he didn’t care. He was a shell of his former self. He tried to join the search too but collapsed from exhaustion. He wouldn’t eat and barely drank, so it was no wonder he collapsed. He was sent to his room to rest which only made him worse. He felt so numb. His body shook from the lack of nutrition. He was in a bad way.

Things got so bad, lady Satya had to stay with him constantly. He didn’t do much besides cry and lash out in anger. At one point he grabbed a dagger and attempted to slash his wrist, just to feel something. She grabbed the blade however, her hand getting sliced in the process. Seeing her so hurt by his actions was enough to calm him for an hour or so, before the drama started up again.

Often he went to his window, staring up at the moon. He wondered if you were looking up at it too, thinking of him. Oh how he missed you. His gorgeous maid. His lovely flower.

“I know you’re somewhere out there.. somewhere far away..”

He got so ill with worry he couldn’t care for himself. His cream hair became matted and tangled. It pained lady Satya to see him this way. In all the years she had known him, he had never let himself fall into such disarray. Even as children, he was always the best dressed and best groomed.

“Let me brush your hair for you...”

“What’s the point.. It will only get messy again my lady..”

“Oh my Prince.. It displeases me to see you this way. She’ll be found. Have hope.”

“What good is hope when I feel this way… but.. if it pleases you to brush my hair.. then do so..”

She took a brush and sat on the bed behind him. His hair was an awful mess of tangles, mats, and knots. Depression wasn’t pretty for anyone. It was raw and emotional. This is the worst she had ever seen him. It’s almost like he had died. This wasn’t the Prince she adored. He was always the loudest one in the room. Always lighting up people’s faces with his warming personality. This man however was cold and lifeless.

“Ouch..” He groaned as the brush caught on a hard tangle.

“Do forgive me.. Niran..”

It was rare she ever called him his given name. Even as children, he was always ‘my Prince’. In this moment she wanted to show him she was more to him than a noble lady. She was his best friend and would support him as such. She was gentle to brush his hair out from then on, not wanting to cause him anymore pain than he was already in.

“Thank you.. Satya..”

“Yes.. It’s going to be okay Niran. Will you please eat today?” She continued to brush his hair, seeing it transform back into its usual texture.

“No.. I won’t eat until she’s found.”

“That could be never..”

“Then I shall perish… along with any hopes of romance that I once had.”

She wanted to scold him, but just couldn’t. He was stubborn but she was persistent too. She drew him a bath herself, knowing he wouldn’t want another maid in here. Not when he was so devastated over you.

“Perhaps a warm bath..”

“No..”

“And if she comes back? You want her to see a Prince that can’t even wash himself. Even commoners wash. Are you worse than a commoner? I’ve never known you to deny a chance to relax in warm water.”

Something stirred within him. On some level she was right. She was well educated of course, but even emotionally she tried her best. He sighed and laid down, body weak from the lack of food and water.

“Please Niran.. if not for yourself then for…”

She couldn’t finish that sentence anymore. It was clear that the Prince wouldn’t function without you. He wouldn’t do anything for her as long as you were missing. All his generosity gone. All the love he held for anyone, gone.

“Hmm..?”

“If not for yourself.. then for me.. if not for me… for her..”

“I said no.. I show you kindness because you are my closest confidant, my dearest friend. Do not make me repeat myself my lady.”

She sighed, opting not the waste the water, deciding she would use it to relax herself. One of them had to remain calm in this situation, and it wouldn’t be him.

——🪷——

The royal trumpets were like a lifeline for him. He shot out of bed, and ran to his window to get a glimpse of who was returning. Sir Wilhelm was hard to miss. He was a large man with a big personality. Once he saw him, he stared so intently looking for you. He held his breath, a little too long however, causing lady Satya to smack him for being so stupid. He kept searching for you. His gorgeous maiden. His lover.

Then he saw you.

“Y/N…”

A royal guard bridal carried you, on horseback, inside the castle walls.

“Y/N!!!” He screamed, bolting out the room and down the stone steps. He passed servants and maids who gasped at the state he was in. He didn’t care. He needed to get to you. It had been almost a week. Too long in his opinion. He just needed you. His flower.

Lady Satya ran after him, as best she could in heels and floor length dress. She lifted up her skirts, and ran as fast as her heels would carry her.The pair looked ridiculous. Some even remarking that they were having a ‘lovers tiff’ or that the Prince had ‘met his match’. It was almost comical.

Finally he made it outside just as the royal guards were dismounting their horses. He must have looked so deranged, screaming and raving about some lowly maid, but he didn’t care. He stumbled down the steps, tripping and almost tumbling down the remaining ones. Lady Satya shrieked at him, cursing him for being so careless, but it would be a miracle if he ever heard her over the sound of his own heartbeat.

“Y/N I MISSED YOU! OH MY LADY YOU HAVE NO IDE-“

He was stunned to silence when he saw your unconscious body. You had lost so much weight, the colour drained from your face. Your lips as dry as a desert. You looked so grubby it was hard to see your pretty face.

“Y/N..?”

“She’s alive my Prince. Barely. We gave her some water but we weren’t sure when the last time she ate or drank was.”

It took everything in him not to scream. Not to rip you away from the guards arms and hold you so close to him. Instead he dropped to his knees eyes closed so tight he started to see colours dance around from the strain. The guards stared unsure what to do. The Prince was usually so calm, so rational.

“Take her to the clinic!” Lady Satya screamed at them. “And for goodness sake get a meal started. Honestly..”

She hurried over to comfort her Prince, knowing how much pain he was in. He silently thanked her for being his voice, something he often did for her. She helped him up, practically dragging him up the steps, her dress ripping as he stood on it, making her sigh in frustration. She kicked off her heels and hauled him up as best she could, being his crutch as they walked to the clinic.

“You have servants for a reason, you are aware?”

——🪷——

He stayed by your side the whole time you were in the clinic. He was the one to clean you up, apologising for seeing you so exposed, when you weren’t even courting. He was the one to hold your hand when doctors came to examine you. He was the one breaking down in tears every night wondering why you left. The poor man had been loosing his mind so much that doctors started to question his own sanity. He didn’t leave, he didn’t tend to his duties, he didn’t give up.

Things got so bad he would pass out regularly before waking up screaming from nightmares about you being gone again. One time he fell out of his chair and woke up on the floor and panicked that he couldn’t see you. He worried you woke up without him knowing and left.

Slowly but surely doctors convinced him to eat, claiming it would help his mental state. He refused at first but was reminded by lady Satya that if he recovered first, he could help you recover later. Food tasted too good. The flavours burning his tongue. He could barely stomach the finer foods, opting for plain porridge and dry bread. It was easier to stomach. His water intake improved slowly and he agreed to have a bath, though it pained him to leave you for mere minuets. He worried you would wake up and he wouldn’t be there. A fear he had developed.

He started to feel like his old self again, doctors remarking how much progress he made just by looking after himself. It hardly mattered to him, he only cared about you. The Prince spent his days reading to you, teaching you about flowers and different types of fauna. It was a comfort for him, one he needed.

“The deer is quite remarkable Y/N.. Have you ever seen one? They are such beautiful creatures. I was lucky enough to touch one once.. such a soft coat.. Oh my lady, if you promise to wake, I promise to take you to see one.”

Surprisingly his father stopped by, wanting to see why his son was so interesting in a common maid. He watched as the Prince held your hand tenderly, sadly smiling at your face. He noticed that his son practically lived in the clinic with you, bringing his books and his silk blanket from his room. The blanket draped so lovingly over you.

“We hardly see you anymore, Prince Niran.”

The Prince nearly jumped out of his skin. He hadn’t realised that his father was there, too busy focusing on you. He scrambled to stand, his left hand crossing over his chest before he bowed to him.

“Father.. I.. hadn’t heard you come in..”

The King eyed you again, recognising you as the maid who resigned. He glanced back to his son, who very much looked like a deer in headlights.

“I just saw lady Satya not to long ago. She’s rather fond of you, and yet you spend all your time with this commoner. Why?”

The Prince sat down beside you again, hand running over his scalp. He couldn’t hide it any longer. He had to tell his father that he wouldn’t marry lady Satya. He had to explain how he loved you.

“Father.. me and lady Satya aren’t in love.. she’s a remarkable woman, truly a visionary...”

“But?”

“She’s a friend. A confidant. I’ll never experience true love with her. You know what that’s like, don’t you father?”

The King did know. He too had to marry a woman he didn’t love. His heart was set on another noble lady, but she had less status then Niran’s mother. It hurt him deeply to think of her now. The King sighed.

“Are you telling me, you the crown prince, heir to the throne, wish to marry a common maid.”

“Yes father.. I’m willing to give it all up. My status, my succession to the throne, my home, my wealth, my family. I love her.”

“She feels the same?”

The Prince laughed softly. He had no idea if you even felt the same way about him. Judging by the fact you kept the golden lotus necklace around your neck, he chanced a guess, praying to the gods that he was correct.

“Yes.”

“Then this must be why she resigned.” The King turned to leave the room. “Come and see me again when she wakes. We shall have a discussion.”

“Thank you father.”

——🪷——

The moment your eyes fluttered open, he was there. He had dozed off, still lovingly holding your hand. You felt dizzy, but compared to the sensation of your stomach eating itself days ago, you couldn’t complain. Prince Niran looked so peaceful asleep next to you. You wondered how long it had been, but judging by half of his things being in the clinic room, you guessed a while.

“My Prince..”

His eyes snapped open to the sound of your voice, meeting yours immediately. Overcome with joy he pounced, wrapping his arms around you like life depended on it, tears streaming.

“Oh my lady.. you scared me.. please never do that to me again. I fear my heart won’t take another round of such torturous pain.”

His words as smooth as ever. His courtship abilities strong. You wondered why you were still in the castle. You had resigned. That’s when Prince Niran explains everything to you. How he had the whole castle looking for you.

“Why did you leave.. Was I not good enough to you? I would like you to be honest. I am a Prince after all, it’s a crime to lie one. I already allow you to commit crimes on my heart.”

“You and lady Satya.. I.. didn’t want to watch as you fell in love, married and had kids. So.. I left..”

He was a bit surprised by your bluntness, but he did tell you to be honest. He was a little confused as to how you got to that conclusion, laughing softly when you mentioned the garden.

“Oh my dear. I was actually confiding in lady Satya to ask that she beg my father for a termination in our betrothal. I have eyes for another.”

“Oh..”

“If it wasn’t clear, my lady, that someone is you.”

You swore your heart stopped. He loved you. He was breaking off his engagement with lady Satya for you. He wanted to be with you. He could tell you were stunned, so he probed a little further.

“I am hoping that, well, you feel the same way I do my lady?”

“I- Yes.. but.. what about lady Satya?”

“She never was interested in me romantically. Hand on heart, she hates the idea of marriage and kids, and responsibility over the stupid things I do.”

He was so dramatic, but he did bring warmth to your cheeks. You let your mind wonder of what life could be like with him. He could look after you, like your parents always wanted for you. You missed them, but now they wouldn’t worry. You didn’t need comfort, luxury or finer things. You just needed Prince Niran.

“So? My lady, may I court you?”

Your lips landed on his. Fireworks exploding in his mind and yours. It was a pleasant Suprise for him. He could hardly complain. His shaky hands cupped your cheeks deepening the kiss, craving more of you. Your hands tangled up in his hair, wanting the same. His tongue felt so good against your own. Like it was made for just you. It was your first kiss and it felt so perfect, so right, so needed.

When you pulled away you caught a glimpse of him panting softly, eyes opening to stare at your lips again. A small smoulder appearing on his face before pulling you close for another kiss, deciding that one was no where near enough. He needed more of you. All of you.

��—🪷——

“I promise you my lady, no matter what happens, I won’t let him belittle you.”

“I’m scared my prince..”

He squeezed your hand tighter, smiling at his pretty little maid all dressed up in a beautiful dress. He took pride in replacing all the ones he had destroyed. The new ones were much nicer anyhow. This one was a deep lavender with gold adornments. The bodice had lace flowers stitched into it, forming the most gorgeous sweetheart neckline. The sleeves were a ballooned shape, made of lavender lace with tiny Biolight vines sewn in. The skirt itself covered with gold stitched to form beautiful flowery shapes and vines. It was beautiful on you. Niran had it made especially for you. Lady Satya helped you change and even offered to do your hair, fixing a Biolight rose above your ear. Both of them did what they could, wanting you to look your best for an audience with the King and court.

“Oh don’t fear, you have not one, but two nobles in your corner! Yes, one’s a Prince and your lover.. and the other wants me to shut up… but wait till you see us persuade him!”

“Dramatic as ever my Prince.” Lady Satya rolled her eyes.

“Naturally.”

You weren’t so convinced that the King would say yes. The entire way to the throne room you panicked that he would laugh at you and call you nothing but a commoner. A lowly girl that wasn’t fit to marry a prince. Prince Niran however had a spring in his step. Lady Satya rolling her eyes again as he dramatically flung the throne room doors open, stunning the whole court to silence.

“Father!”

Confidence dripped off him. He was oozing with pride as he presented you to the court. You step forward, your heart pounding. Many people gasped and whispered about how you were just a commoner playing dress up, and how shameful this was for lady Satya, to see her fiancé so blatantly pining for another. You felt so out of place, wanting to run away again, and yet lady Satya took your hand and lead you further into the room.

“You know why I am here father. I wish to marry this woman. I will give up my status, wealth, place in line to the throne. Please father, your blessing.”

“What say you lady Satya? You seem rather calm about this.”

“With all due respect your highness, the Prince just isn’t someone I’m in love with romantically. I am honoured and humbled by you, but no, I do not wish for this life.”

The King stared at you with intense eyes, watching to see if you crumbled under the pressure. Instead you stepped forward and curtsied as best you could, holding the position until he told you otherwise.

“Rise my dear. Prince Niran, is this really what you want?”

“More than anything in the world father.”

“You’re willing to give it all up yes?”

“Right now if needed.”

He took off his crown and placed it neatly on the floor, taking a step back to show he cuts tied with it all. He was very serious about this. He didn’t want to run away in secret. He wanted a blessing.

“Very well. Then you shall have my blessing.”

The Prince turned to you, lifting you up and spinning you around in delight, before lowering you for a warm hug. You were stunned. You came in here prepared to fight for him. It was too easy. You couldn’t believe it. He so desperately wanted to kiss you, but thought it was best saved for a moment of privacy. He took your hand in his and turned to leave.

“Niran.”

“Yes father?”

“Pick up your crown. See that you show her the proper royal way to behave. If she is to be Queen someday then she’ll need the lessons.”

“You mean..?”

“No one said you had to give up your royalty. You’re a smart man, so see she learns fast. She’ll have to impress the court on your wedding day after all.”

Overjoyed, he bows, holding it for at least ten seconds before thanking his father and rising. You had no idea that this would be the outcome. Never in a million years, and yet, you were to be a Princess, and one day Queen of the court.

A fairy tale come true.

——🪷——

“How are you feeling my lady?”

“Scared. Shocked. Surprised. Take your pick.”

“Yes, it is a bit much isn’t it. The pressure will wear off soon. Once we have the wedding and have our first child-“

“Child?!”

Prince Niran grins. He was kidding. Children were important in a royal relationship, but he was happy to wait. Still the thought of having children with him someday wasn’t so bad. He was gorgeous in every way, your children would inherit that, you were sure.

“So my gorgeous little maid, will you marry me then?”

You watch as your gorgeous Prince drops to one knee, holding the most beautiful ring you had ever laid eyes on. The jewel itself was alive with a tiny Biolight lotus, that pulsed with power, enticing you to put it on. His smile was like starlight. He really loved you.

“Oh my sweet Prince. Did you really have to ask? Of course I’ll marry you.”

[albywritesfiction]

Helene Route Thoughts

Ohhh ok, sooo sorry for the ask I got a lil too excited about this scenario for the comments section 😅

So, first of all, as a serial lurker and consumer of IF... I've noticed a trend (not the first person to notice/comment on this btw) of fans getting... kinda demanding & entitled regarding the work that IF authors are producing these days. I wanna say up front that I adore what I've seen of your IF concept so far, and also- even if I didn't already love it? Please don't let us fans or anyone else pressure you in any way/shape/form into deviating from the story YOU want to tell! (Like y'all go to a book store & write a nastygram to a published author bc the synopsis doesn't press all your buttons...? Why the hell would you do that to someone who's publishing amazing IF content, often for free!? Who raised you!?)

With that outta the way- personally I'm perfectly OK with Helene being the stereotypical 'White Lotus' of manhua fame- man we love tropes for a reason, why wouldn't I want to see that story play out in IF form?!

If you really want to explore her potential as an RO tho? I can think of 2 different Helene flavors that I would personally find compelling...

First is one I have observed in manhua before, if rarely (and it's killing me that I can't recall the character/series I'm thinking of...) Helene is basically groomed/raised to fulfill her roll of bagging a prince or other high ranking individual for her religious institution's prestige/power. This is the only thing she's been raised to think she's suited or useful for, a power grab. Maybe MC can show her how amazing she is and the power she wields personally outside of the church's influence over her fate? Empower Helene to pursue her own desires! Poor girl never knew how to want for anything... until she met MC... 👀

The other thought I had is totally the opposite end of the spectrum... A Girl Boss that wants power & influence, and doesn't care much about the collateral damage in achieving that. Like, path of least resistance, I'ma play every dudes fantasy & become the perfect woman to get the power of this dim-wit prince. Once she's won, she starts looking around thinking... ok this mask is kinda stifling, how long after marriage should I wait b4 I poison this guy? Meanwhile, she meets MC and... surprise! She has a competency kink! Suddenly... a celebrated, wealthy dukedom has most of what she's after anyways, without some of the schmoozing & red tape associated with the top of the monarchy... 'Ok, changed my mind, I want THAT ONE instead! For world domination purposes ofc' (In my head this Helene is def a bit of a red flag character)

These are just a couple thoughts from someone who's already in love with the universe you're creating 😊 I'm really excited to see where your story takes us, with or without any changes to the already established ROs!

Hi msmuffino!

Oh, I greatly appreciate the concern! Thankfully, everyone's been really nice and accepting about the things that I've established for ATE, like Ædric and Cyfrin being the only ROs and them being set as male, MC having been in love with Ædan ever since they met, Ædric and Cyfrin having pre-established feelings for MC, significant details like that 😄

My curiosity is really the main reason why I had this poll 😅 like I got super interested in hearing what you guys had in mind if Helene was an RO, and I really enjoyed reading all the Helene-route-thoughts asks I received 😄 as in, if you guys decided that you wanted to make fanfics about your MC and Helene with your ideas in an ATE AU, I'd be really interested in reading them 😄

Thank you so much again for the kind and supportive words, and I'm also really excited to share ATE with you guys when I finish Chapter 1! 😄

[epicwalrus]

Walrus Loses her Mind cont.

OK, so theories...oh boy, the theories.

Some are new, others have evolved...and all of them are driving me slowly to distraction. Current theory count...3? I think?

You know the drill, spoilers for all Mysterious Lotus Caserbook episodes up to 28.

1. Shan Gudao is not dead and is, in fact, the big bad.

I am still convinced of this and only growing more so.

Despite what Lianhua says (unreliable narrator, much?), the flashbacks have shown Gudao in adulthood to be bad-tempered, aggressive, and manipulative, and Madam Feng said all he cared about was becoming famous and the strongest. He abandoned his PREGNANT girlfriend because he wanted to be stronger.

On top of that, he seems to have lied to Lianhua about the Cloud Iron and may have kept the He kid as the leader of The Four Tigers (He Zhang), although please correct me if I'm wrong there; my ability to hear the tones in Mandarin is still abysmally lacking, I'm trying to learn, I promise.

Even the argument with Xiangyi before Gudao quit the Sigu Sect felt slimy and manipulative, very much "I'm the good one. I care about you. I gave you the best sword I ever made. You are being too willful. You are the bad one." Poor Xiangyi might have been having his head fucked with for who knows how long. He was clearly suspicious of Gudao after the Cloud Iron incident but is now convinced he was the bad one.

Turning the two strongest sects against each other via his "death" opened up the way for the Wansheng Sect (which shares a symbol with Gudao), who are supported by the very royal court who offered Gudao an army to fight the Jinyuan Alliance. Who could fight back against him with the two strongest warriors dead and their sects in pieces?

I'm not convinced he's doing it for personal power anymore, though (or maybe not entirely). I think he may be a descendant of the Nanyin survivors and is picking up their plan where they left off (see theory 3).

2. Lianhua will be healed via his poison to fight poison technique.

Still being stubborn about this one, too XD The setup is almost perfect. They already have 4/5 things for healing our delicate lotus man.

A previously discussed and dangerous theory for detoxification (which requires great inner power, a counter-poison and acupuncture)

A-Su's golden acupuncture needles that can heal anything

Physician Guan, who is an acupuncture specialist

And either that wine to increase one's inner power (if they can find a legit recipe) or someone equally as powerful to feed Lianhua power (Feisheng).

We just need that poison that can counter the Bicha poison.

There was a shot of Duobing carrying an unconscious Lianhua in the trailer. Maybe that's when he's carrying him to safety after the poison becomes too much to suppress.

And then it's all hands on deck.

Everyone coming together to save our Lotus man.

Duobing suppresses the poison with Yangzhouman (I think that's how you spell it?).

A-Su asks her grandfather about the counter-poison and goes in search of it (maybe with Wanmian's help?).

And if the wine is legit, someone brews the wine as fast as they can. OR Feisheng constantly feeds his own power into Lianhua.

Physician Guan prepares the golden needles.

3. The Nanyin descendants are carrying on a plan created as a last-ditch effort in the war a hundred years ago.

These latest reveals seem to show us a conspiracy from the end of the war:

Nanyin merchants moved in to hide among the population while guarding the Heavenly Ice keys.

The princess married into the royal family with the Rama Vessel (now known to contain Karmic Insects) as her dowry.

Suiyan village's founding.

I think, as the war grew close to an end, Nanyin planned to release the Karmic Insects into their enemy's kingdom as a last-ditch effort to turn the tide. However, the Princess was found out (maybe she was mind-controlling the prince she married with said insects to force the Emperor's abdication), and she died as a result.

Her tomb, and the Rama Vessel, vanished as soon as she was buried, and so the plan failed. But maybe the inscription in her tomb (put there by the Nanyin workers who built it) was their last hope for their descendants to pick up where they left off.

Now we have many instances of Nanyin descendants appearing again and following our mysterious hooded man (glares in Gudao). I think someone had rediscovered the plan from the war and now plans to use it for revenge and to restart the Nanyin kingdom, just like in the legend of the kingdom's founding.

"But, Walrus," you cry, "the insects in the Rama Vessel need a Mother Insect to control them. Where is she?"

Well, dear reader, I lied. I actually have four theories!

4. The Mother Karmic Insect/s is/are hidden INSIDE THE NANYIN PRINCESS.

We learned in today's episodes that the Mother Karmic Insects can survive in a host for hundreds of years. And who else would have been in the position to smuggle these insects into the country?

The princess' body was preserved far better than the prince's when we saw them in the Yipin Tomb. Perhaps, this was again the Nanyin survivors giving their descendants the best chance for revenge. They preserved her body with Asura grass in order to allow the Mother Karmic Insect/s to survive until the plan was picked up once more.

What was once a last-ditch effort for survival has become a plan for revenge.

[petirrojo57]

Legend of the Condor Heroes — Heroes?

I’m doing a re-read (okay, re-listen) to the 4-book Legend of the Condor Heroes series by Jin Yong to refresh my memory before the next book, A Past Unearthed, book 1 of the Return of the Condor Heroes comes out and while it’s still holding my attention, there are a number of things that really stand out for me, but not in a good way.

First, and perhaps foremost, with so many of the so-called heroes of the Wulin, it seems that the first ‘solution’ to dealing with members of other sects is to consider killing them, or make every effort to do just that. There are instances in which powerful experts readily take to the idea that they should kill someone before they reveal a weakness, or to obtain something the other possesses.

Greed plays a pivotal role in many of the encounters. The 6th Prince of the Jin covets another’s wife and sets in motion a plan that will allow him to get her husband killed. The 9 Yin Manual is the trigger for many attempts to kill someone — Guo Jing nearly loses his life just because The Hairy Urchin thinks it will be fun to ‘tease’ Apothecary Huang about what the boy knows (does emphatically not know), and let’s not even mention Viper Ouyang’s attempts. There’s barely an honorable character in these kung fu masters.

I’m not too keen on how Huang Rong (Lotus Huang) is portrayed, especially as her first actions upon meeting the veritable country bumpkin Guo Jing is to practically bankrupt him by demanding lavish dishes when he pities the poor beggar boy. (And proceeds to waste half because they’re cold.) There are many times when her attitudes towards other people are much closer to her father’s ’Break Legs, Cut Tongues, Imprison Till I Get What I Want’ approach and seem highly incompatible with Guo Jing’s pure hearted ways of dealing with issues. She may be the smarter half that he needs to get out of situations, but honestly, I really don’t like her half the time.

As for Guo Jing, his doggedness, his loyalty, and honesty are all good for the hero of the piece, but his general thickheadedness through much of the 4 books can be a little bit daunting. Good thing he meets up with the Beggar Chief, who’s one of the few really decent men in the story.

Two other characters who I despise, one we’re supposed to, the other maybe more of a ‘picaresque’ type we’re supposed to find amusing (?) are Ouyang Ke (Gallant Ouyang) who’s a serial sex offender in his 40s with a serious and persistent lech for 15-year-old Lotus. Ick. Boulders should fall on his head! And the second is the Hairy Urchin, Zhou Botong; his childish behaviors and ‘pranks’ often have disastrous results. He’s more like a bad device used so Guo Jing can pick up some helpful kung fu techniques. Can we attribute it to his long imprisonment on Peach Blossom Island?

The point of this long rant is, I suppose, to puzzle out whether these character flaws are a reflection of the times in which the novel was written, or characteristics of the genre, or characterizations that would be interesting to the original audience. Are there cultural aspects that make them more appealing? I’m curious to see where the next books take the series.

[paradigmkrp]

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ 𝐆𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐏 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆: #1 ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄: January 22nd, 2023 ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: The following post contains mentions of abuse, drug use, and sexual activity. ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: All writers consented to have their muses featured in the gossip blog. ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- Dearest Readers,

The 2023 school year has started quite eventfully it seems. Though we are only on the second week of classes, already the halls have begun to whisper. Let’s see what our little birds have brought to us for this week’s edition.

As students usher around campus adjusting to new schedules, it appears that some of you have been busier than others. Settling on campus again often means establishing new habits… or slipping into old ones.

Lotus Library is hailed for the young minds that it nurtures among rows of books, however, it seems that studying isn’t the only thing students have taken to using the library for. Lady Estelle de Chagny found herself in the arms of a man just one week after classes began. Instead of taking to the books, she has taken to finding intimacy just outside of the library doors.

It appears it wasn’t just any man either, but rather a certain Avani New Rich that she was spotted with last semester as well. Despite her claims that their fling last semester was only a temporary romance, it seems as if the young Lady simply cannot get enough of the poetic young man. Perhaps he has charmed her beyond compare, enough to let her morals slip for nothing more than a pleasurable exchange.

I suppose Lady Estelle de Chagny was in need of some comfort following a tearful exchange with her proclaimed best friend Lady Eden Kobayashi in front of the football locker rooms – and my dear readers, we have quite the story for you about those locker rooms – after team practice. By all accounts, the two exchanged words before Lady Eden caused her dear friend to burst into tears and her own followed not long after.

Trouble in paradise?

It makes us wonder how Lady Estelle feels about constantly taking to the school’s newspaper to defend her friend turned football star and captain. She certainly has a way of choosing her company. One best friend who makes her cry without impunity and a lover who is involved in illicit activities. I’d argue that the Duke of Nanami is due a visit with his dear daughter to discuss her choice in friends… and even worse lovers.

Speaking of interesting choices made by Arcadia University students, it appears that one student, in particular, made some rather big choices over the break. Sora’s very own Lord July Merlo came back from break looking quite different. There is no denying that the famous Lord has always been good looking, but fans can’t help but speculate whether his need to constantly appear perfect under the spotlight has gotten to him.

Bigger eyes, a sharper jawline, and a straighter nose. The noble-turned-influencer has stopped at nothing to keep all eyes on him. Perhaps he was offered a 4-for-1 deal because he’s even come back looking a bit slimmer.

If you ask me, I’d say that the work doesn’t look half bad – just slightly ridiculous, but what do you expect from someone desperately clinging to fame? Though Lord Merlo may want to consider slowing down on the work. It’s a swift slide to becoming a living botched mess.

Lord July Merlo may not be the only one consulting a plastic surgeon soon. The poor, delicate Lady Autumn Wu was seen fleeing the dueling team practice gym late one night on campus. A witness reported the young Lady in tears and covered in fresh blue and purple bruises.

The culprit?

Her one and only betrothed, His Royal Highness, Terran Ajax Alarie.

It’s awful to think that the future King of Avani would dare raise his hand to his Queen, though one might say it comes as no surprise. After all, any Avani national would be quick to tell you of the Prince’s temper in his younger years. They claim he has calmed down in preparation for the throne, and yet evidence says otherwise.

Usually, I would speculate on such matters and try to find out what led to the altercation in the first place, but there is no need for speculation here. The simple fact remains that His Royal Highness, Terran was wrong in striking his fiancee. It would do him good to remember that all eyes are on him and his people look to him as a future leader.

What example does he set by striking any Lady… much less his betrothed.

We send Lady Autumn our well wishes, in hopes that her injuries are minor and she won’t need a trip to Lord Merlo’s surgeon to patch herself up.

Though not all students have immediately started the year on a foolish note. Some are more determined than others to step into the new year with a fresh slate.

Lord Emrys Narelle was seen handing out name brand clothes to citizen students outside of Snell Hall. Some may question why he didn’t go inside to pass the clothing out, but in the Lord’s defense, we must remember that questionable entities grow within the infamous halls of the citizens’ dorm. Surely, it is enough to have a warm, open heart, so eager to help the less unfortunate in the world.

Although it would be remiss of me to not mention that this rumor wasn’t submitted to us in a typical way, but rather came about as an email with a press release and professionally taken photos. Regardless of how this story came about, we are quite impressed with the Lord’s charitable efforts because it certainly isn’t often that a noble of such a reputable house finds themselves tending to the citizens. Like always, the Narelle family leaves a pleasant taste in our mouths.

To all of our citizen readers, if you are in need of a helping hand, consider seeking out Lord Emrys’ charity.

And if you’re in need of illicit substances, you may want to consider paying a special visit to the President of Spoken Reasons himself: Oleander Weathers. It isn’t our first time hearing about the young man’s alleged penchant for mind-altering substances. Though it appears as if he has now taken to indulging before the poetry club’s meetings – and one can only wonder if he enjoys a quick boost in the midst of their recitations as well.

By all accounts, the Weathers boy is quite talented with his words. After all, one doesn’t become President of Spoken Reasons without presenting some type of natural talent. But with how often he takes to his vices, it’s hard not to question whether the new rich student is a natural poet or if he just closes his eyes in the midst of his high to imagine the words in his head.

Regardless of the young man’s questionable habits, for the sake of his club members, we must ask that he at least take the proper steps to rid himself of the foul scent before he steps foot into their meetings.

It’s no secret that money can’t buy happiness… but clearly it can’t buy etiquette either.

Money appears to be a hot topic among citizens, new rich, and noble students alike.

Inappropriate encounters at student parties are far from a new topic, but we cannot say that it’s everyday we hear of two noble students bickering over money.

Our campus football star Lady Eden Kobayashi was seen in yet another verbal altercation this week though not with her supposed best friend. Instead, it was Lord Alon Lee of Nanami who found himself on the other end of the young Lady’s apparently hot temper. Several witnesses report having seen the two in the corner of a party speaking in hushed whispers whilst the Lord’s hand danced around her neck.

Grabby much?

One can only assume that it’s hard to get close to two nobles in the middle of a back and forth, but our little birds claim they were speaking of theft. Some say they overheard Lord Alon accusing the Lady of taking something from him. Yet, others claim it was in fact, Lady Eden who pointed an accusation of theft at the Lord. It’s hard to imagine a world in which a Lord from as long lived and respected a house as Lord Alon would have the need to steal from Lady Eden, the heir of a disgraced family name.

Yet, dare I say perhaps the Lord stole nothing of material value, but rather something of emotional value?

After all, the two were seen leaving the party together with little to no space between them. Theft or not, these young nobles certainly do have a way of flirting with each other.

As we all know, theft isn’t limited only to the noble and rich. It is no secret that desperate citizens may be prone to stealing from each other or in the case of particularly brave ones, from the nobles and new rich that employ them. In all of my years of writing, however, I cannot say I’ve ever seen a theft of this nature.

Whether or not, Lady Eden has committed theft against Lord Alon, she most certainly is the victim of theft from her very own personal servant: Fiona Choi.

The Sora citizen was reportedly seen pocketing a piece of her employer’s clothing as she did her laundry in Winthrop Court. What did the unassuming, rather quiet citizen take exactly? I would ask you to guess, and yet I fear that even the most talented of earth nation nobles could not figure it out.

A scandalous piece of underwear from the dear Lady.

Surely, Fiona means to use it with purpose, and while one may assume she took it for her own perverted desires, after some digging, we’ve found that she shares a room with Avani citizen, Rhys Park. With no other viable romantic prospects in her life, there is certainly only one logical explanation. Does Fiona Choi mean to wear the skimpy little piece in her small shared dorm for her supposed friend and roommate Rhys Park?

It isn’t often that a citizen manages to catch the eye in this way, though I can assure you we will be keeping a close eye on the rather interesting citizen duo and their remarkably shameful debauchery.

However, Lady Eden isn’t the only one who is losing her panties on campus.

I venture to say that the rumor that comes next tops theirs by far, and my dearest readers, I did assure you that we would come back to the locker rooms.

Lady Aeryn Tang was caught stumbling out of the men’s dueling team’s locker rooms, followed shortly after by none other than Lord Yejun Han. Several witnesses report seeing the Sirius nobles emerge looking messy and exhausted. It does not take a far leap to assume that the two were up to degeneracy in their time within the locker room, but we will allow the evidence to speak for itself.

Suspicious vocal sounds, thuds, and newly blooming marks on both of their necks. It appears the two couldn’t have even bothered to attempt to cover themselves up, but we should expect nothing less from the ex-fiances.

A messy arrangement only to end in a suspicious, even messier dissolvement.

Still, one has to assume, if the two nobles are so eager to spend carnal time together – going as far as engaging in a locker room of all places – then surely a new arrangement is overdue. Accidents happen, and considering that neither Lady Aeryn nor Lord Yejun can be bothered to hide their chaotic entanglement, we must remind them that protection is always a necessity.

The last thing two heirs of strong, noble households would want is an accident that ends in a shotgun wedding.

At least one noble on campus has remained responsible and steady in protecting her family name.

Lady Selene Yu has been commended recently for her dedication to the campus gardens as President of the Belladonnas. We’ve received several credible reports that she has been seen tending to the gardens late at night without complaint and always with a smile on her face. It’s no surprise that after a charming speech at the greenhouse that Lady Selene continues to win the hearts and adoration of her fellow student body.

The Pearl of Nanami continues to garner positive attention even far outside of the water nation’s boundaries. Perhaps she would be a lovely example for the student body to look to when in need of a positive example of how nobles should be conducting themselves on campus.

Kudos to you, Lady Selene for allowing us to start the new year on such a positive note.

The first two weeks of classes have been full of so many surprises – good and bad – and we have been happy to write about all of them. The eclectic student body of Arcadia University never fails to grace us with plenty of content.

Like always, my dearest readers, keep whispering and writing in, for we will always be listening.

Stay tuned.

Yours Truly, Lady Astor

[beautifulterriblequeen]

Proof of Life, part 2

part 1

So, to further examine the idea that Moonshadow elves can sense heartbeats, how do they use these heartbeats other than for tracking targets? Well. I think they use this sense to track each other. I think that's how Ethari's lotuses work.

Rayla tells Callum that the assassins' flowers float as long as they live and breathe. But what specifically counts as "living" as far as Moonshadow magic is concerned? A heartbeat.

Rayla's lotus pings regularly on top of the water. Are those pings literally her heartbeats? Could Ethari sit by the pool and watch her heart speed up when she fights, or when she's smooching her favorite step-prince? Uhhh Ethari, a little privacy please! 🤣

But Runaan's lotus has sunk halfway. I don't think it can sense his heartbeat anymore, and that's why it assumes he's dead. He's beyond the reach of its senses because he's left the realm of the living. What else is a poor tracking lotus supposed to assume? Usually, when you leave the land of the living, it's because you're dead dead.

I'm really not sure what's holding it up off the pool floor, actually. Is it his breathing, because there are bubbles around the lotus? Or is it just Plot Armor?

Either way, I think I finally know what the ting noise was when Runaan was shown inside his coin.

The ting seems to represent the Moonshadow heartbeat sense. Rayla uses it on the castle roof to sense Runaan's presence.

And Runaan uses it from inside the coin.

It looks like an instinctive call for help when he does it--his mouth moves at the same time, but he doesn't seem to be saying any specific words. It looks more like a wordless cry of panic, but if we could give it words, it might sound like I'm here, I'm alive, can anyone hear me? Except the ting can't travel past the coin's edges, and so no Moonshadow elves can sense it. Runaan's magic got put on mute.

I'd say here that Lain's and Tiadrin's magic also got muted by their coins, but maybe Runaan ghosting them took care of that part already. Ethari's reactions to Rayla seem to indicate that he genuinely couldn't sense her heartbeat behind him in his workshop. Gosh, ghosting really is Moonshadow for "You're dead to me," isn't it? 👀 Erasing the familiar beat of someone's heart from your magical perception is very angsty indeed.

Back to the coins: How horrible to possess this deeply instinctual ability to reach out and find connection with others, and then have it suddenly be useless. How alone, how isolated, how non-existent, must Runaan, Tiadrin, and Lain feel, when they can neither feel others' hearts nor make their own be felt. Holy cats. Moonshadow elves' whole gig is sensing and appreciating life. They must not feel like Moonshadows at all in their coins. The depersonalization is real. They really are hellcoins, huh. Goddamn. Angstyyyyy!

But, uh. Can I make it even angstier? Yes I can!

Remember Rayla's oath during the binding ceremony? "My heart for Xadia"?

You know what Rayla is really swearing here now. She's dedicating her actual life, the beats of her physical heart, to being an assassin. She's vowing to die in service to Xadia, however long that takes. Runaan seems to have done exactly the same thing, always expecting to die in service, accepting his fate when it came for him on Harrow's balcony. The novelization of S1 makes Runaan's mindset here really clear.

But he stops her from re-swearing this line after he kicks her off of his mission.

He knows better than she does what she's sworn, and what it will cost her. (and just to yeet in a sudden idea: why is Rayla drawing her swords to re-swear her oath? Is she about to make a blood promise that not even Runaan can save her from? Is that why he gets all bossy and physically stops her--because if she sheds even a drop of her own blood with that oath, he can't save her life? woah) When Runaan finds himself on King Harrow's balcony a few hours later, he' s long since come to terms with his own fate. But he's not ready to come to terms with Rayla's fate. No parent wants to outlive their child. Even Runaan isn't hard enough for that.

Okay, here, let me end on a softer note.

"Lunabloom" has a moment where Runaan waxes nostalgic for the night that he and Ethari "promised their hearts to each other".

If a heart means life to a Moonshadow elf, then the night Runaan was remembering was the night that he and Ethari promised each other their lives.

And when Ethari told Runaan, "My heart goes out with this one," he was saying his life would hang in the balance until Runaan returned, that he couldn't live properly without him. And Runaan immediately comforted him by telling him he'd come home safe and sound so Ethari wouldn't have to worry for long.

I'm not crying, you're crying.

No no that's me too, my bad

[melzula]

The Beginning of the End

pairing: Zuko x Princess! reader

warnings: angst, mentions of death, fluff

summary: in which the Princess learns what became of her father and turns to Zuko for comfort (requested by anon)

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

“Y/n,” your mother calls gently from your doorway. “The ships are leaving, come say goodbye to your father.”

“No.”

“Princess, he’s your father,” she chides gently. “I know you have your differences-“

“Differences?! He forbid me from water bending and he forbid me from ever seeing Zuko again!”

“Little otter penguin, try to understand that your father only has your best interests at heart. He loves you, and if you don’t say goodbye you’re going to regret it.”

“I won’t regret anything,” you insist stubbornly. “Besides, there’s no point in saying goodbye when we both know he’s going to come back.”

The White Lotus campsite is relatively quiet despite the number of members it inhabits, most of them gifting you friendly smiles or passing glances of acknowledgement as you weave through the tents in search of any familiar faces. With Aang having disappeared, you’re only hope in defeating the Fire Lord now rests upon Iroh, hence your group’s presence on the campgrounds. Zuko has left in search of his Uncle, and though you wished to see the kind old man again after having been apart for so long you knew it was something the prince had to do on his own. Besides, you had your own questions that needed answering and didn’t have much time to waste as you sought after any water tribe member who might have information on the whereabouts of your father.

Your search efforts are halted by the hand that rests itself firmly upon your shoulders, and though your first instinct is to pull the water from the air around you in preparation for a fight you’re quick to relax as you see it’s none other than Pakku. An apologetic smile forms on your features as you grant the old man and longtime family friend a tight hug.

“The last time I saw you you were barely learning how to walk, and now here you are pulling water out of thin air like a true bending master,” he comments with a laugh. “It’s good to see you again, y/n.”

“It’s good to see you, too,” you reply with a watery smile before pulling out of the hug to look at the man before you. Your grandfather and Pakku had been good friends in their younger days, and before the war he had often visited to teach water bending to the boys in your tribe, but then your grandfather had died and Pakku stopped coming. It was comforting to see a familiar face, but you were starting to dread the truth that would come with your question. What if it wasn’t what you wanted to hear?

“You’re troubled,” he says carefully, “what can I do to help?”

“My father... Have you heard what’s become of him? Is he back home in the south?”

Pakku’s eyes soften then, sympathetic and remorseful, but he doesn’t answer your question, not right away. Instead he guides you towards your tent and takes you inside to discuss the matter privately. Once you’ve seated yourself on the ground Pakku reaches into his robe and pulls out a familiar item from his sleeve.

“Do you recognize this?”

“Father’s tiger shark tooth necklace,” you murmur quietly as Pakku places the piece of jewelry into your open palm. The tooth is jagged and sharp though worn around the edges from the many years it’s spent hanging from your father’s neck; it was a good luck charm given to him by your mother when they were younger, and he never went anywhere without it. “But I don’t understand...”

It’s the way in which Pakku refuses to meet your gaze that you finally understand, tears beginning to well in your eyes as you clutch the necklace tightly to your chest.

“No...”

“I’m so sorry you had to find out this way,” the man offers weekly before handing you a paper scroll. “Everything you need to know is in this letter. I’ll give you the privacy you need to read it for yourself.”

He leaves you alone to mourn in piece, and despite how desperate you are to know the last words of your father you can’t bring yourself to open the letter. Opening it makes it real, and you don’t think you can face his death. Not now, not when your friends are counting on you to be at your strongest for the arrival of the comet. Your heart is beating rapidly in your ribcage and your vision is blurry with your tears, and this time when a gentle hand rests itself upon your shoulder you collapse against the owner’s chest. Strong arms wrap around your trembling figure and encompass you in a comfortingly familiar warmth as you weep into their chest.

“Pakku sent me,” Zuko utters quietly into your hair. “What is it?”

“My father,” you whisper into the fabric of his robes, “he’s dead. He’s gone and I never even said goodbye.”

“I’m so sorry, Princess,” Zuko comforts gently. “I can’t even imagine what you must be going through right now. Is there any way I can help?”

“There’s a letter,” you sniffle as you pull away from Zuko to wipe away your freshly fallen tears. “I can’t bring myself to read it but I need to know what it says. Would you... would you read it to me?”

“O-Of course,” he replies quickly before scrambling to open the letter as you situate yourself to sit in between his legs with your back resting against his chest. With his arms around your waist and the letter held in front of the two of you, Zuko’s gentle voice slowly begins to morph into that of your father’s as you shut your eyes and listen.

“Princess,

I don’t have much time left on this earth, and I know the chances of seeing you again before my time is up are slim, so I’ve taken to writing this letter in hopes that all of your questions will be answered when I’m gone. I’ve been badly wounded in battle and with no healers available it will only be a matter of time before I pass on from this life to the next. But know that I am sorry. I’m sorry for making you become someone you weren’t, for forcing you to change when you didn’t want to, and for not being open enough to listen to your needs. I was blinded by my anger with the Fire Lord and I took it out on you and that poor boy. Love is a complicated thing, you cannot choose or help who you fall in love with, and perhaps if I had remember that then I wouldn’t have forced you to run away.

We all have a destiny in life and leaving was part of yours. There’s a greater world out there for you to explore; a good leader requires knowledge, and as future leader of the Southern Water Tribe it is your duty to obtain it. Learn to love, learn to be brave, learn to be kind, and learn to be forgiving. We didn’t get to say goodbye and that’s alright, we’ll have our time together again in the next life, so don’t let this slow you down. I know you’re going to do great things, my sweet daughter. I’ll always be with you in spirit, and you’ll always have my support. It is an honor to be your father, my brave little water bender.

It’s all up to you now. With love, your father Tukon.”

The air is silent as your father’s voice fades away and all that is left behind is the sound of your quiet sniffling and Zuko’s gentle breathing. You want to cry but for some reason the tears don’t come, and instead being filled with devastating loss and regret you are filled with a small warmth that fills your heart with love and appreciation. Your father is with you now, you can feel it, and in this moment that is enough.

“Thank you,” you murmur quietly, showing your gratitude to both your father and Zuko as he holds you close to his chest in the safety of your tent.

~~~

You wake to the smell of freshly cooked porridge, a smiling Zuko sitting beside your bed as he holds the bowl of breakfast in his hands to maintain its warmth while you rise.

“Good morning,” his raspy voice greets you. “How are you feeling?”

Memories from the previous night flood back to you all at once, and your boyfriend doesn’t miss the way in which you immediately reach up to clasp the tiger shark tooth hanging from your neck tightly in your hand. Tears begin to well in your eyes but you manage to keep them at bay, instead choosing to look upon Zuko with a fragile smile.

“I’ll be okay.”

“Did you sleep okay? I had Suki look after you while you slept so I could speak with my Uncle.”

“How is he?” You ask, features perking up with interest. A small smile forms on Zuko’s lips as he leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

“He’s fine, and we’re okay. He’s eager to see you again. But you need to eat first, we all have a big day ahead of us,” Zuko instructs before handing you your breakfast. “Uncle says I need to reclaim the throne, and to do that I have to face off against Azula. But I can’t do it alone, so I’d like you and Katara to join me.”

It’s silent for a moment as you digest both the yummy porridge and the information Zuko has bestowed upon you. You had a feeling this day would come, and despite the apprehension you hold when it comes to fighting his deranged sister you know there’s no other option.

Your father’s words echo in your head: “Learn to be brave.” A beat passes before you finally nod.

“I’ve been wanting to put her in her place ever since she beheaded my favorite doll,” you admit with a wry smile. “I’d be honored to help you.”

“Get dressed,” Zuko says then, rising from his place beside your bed to give you the space you need to prepare. We leave in ten minutes.”

And so begins the end of the war.

| tags: @rainteslerrrr @oddment-niwit-blubber-tweak @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @coldlilheart @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @zukh03s @titaniafire @dekahg @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @lozzybowe @izzieserra @melacholy @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 @brown-eyed-thang @djskfkdkkf @xapham @yeetletzgetitjae @misnmatchedsox @chewymoustachio @that-bucket-hat-gal |

[stiltonbasket]

For the arranged marriage verse, can you do something about a day where they just do sweet coupley things like holding hands or lwj lifting Wei Wuxian off little apple like a dapper prince 🥺

(author’s note: please please reblog if you can, since that’s how we get prompts for future chapters!)

Once, very long ago--if long ago meant six months, which is honestly much longer than Wei Wuxian remembers half of what happens to him--Wei Wuxian told Lan Zhan the story of his parents’ elopement, and how the donkey Wei Changze and Cangse Sanren took to their wedded home in Lufeng had been a gift from Uncle Jiang, who was the only person to witness their bows.

“I didn’t know much about them,” he said wistfully, when they were traveling between Gusu and Qinghe last winter after Wei Wuxian’s sudden return. “But Jiang-shushu would tell me things like that sometimes. When they were about my parents together, I mean, and not just about my mother. He learned never to talk about her fondly after the first time Yu-furen heard him doing it.”

Lan Zhan only gave him one of those earnest, tender looks in response, and that loosened his lips so much that he even mentioned his old boyhood dreams of having a donkey of his own someday: of walking along a grassy road with a child riding on his shoulders, leading a fine beast with bells on its bridle behind him. His wife would sit on the donkey’s back, he decided, though Wei Wuxian had not given much thought to what his future wife might be like; back then, he only hoped that he could make her happy, as Jiang-shushu could never do with Madam Yu no matter how devotedly he tried, and that she would love him and their children in return.

“You have Little Apple,” Lan Zhan remarked after a while, when they stabled their horses and entered the city for a meal. “That is something, is it not?”

But I don’t have someone who would ride behind me on her back, Lan Zhan, Wei Wuxian found himself thinking, more than a little dismally. Or someone who would hold her by the bridle, while I rode with our little ones in my arms.

Wei Wuxian scarcely remembered that old conversation at all until now, on his bridal journey to the Cloud Recesses following the wedding at Lotus Pier, when Lan Xichen taps on the side of his sedan chair and asks him to climb down.

“Brother-in-law,” he calls, parting the red curtains and sticking his head in between them. “Come out! You won’t be going up to the main gates in this, Wangji’s decided to send it back to Caiyi.”

Wei Wuxian exchanges puzzled glances with Xiao-Yu and steps out of the decorated conveyance, with the baby clinging to his neck like a frightened little monkey, or a starfish. “Are we walking?” he asks, looking around in confusion at the rest of the wedding party--which seems to be missing the bridegroom, for some reason, since Lan Zhan is nowhere in sight. “I was getting tired of sitting in the sedan, I suppose, but why?”

“You will not be walking, Wei Ying. Turn around.”

He claps a hand over his chest and whirls around on the spot, only to find Lan Zhan standing behind him in his own elaborate wedding clothes--a second set commissioned for the trip between Yunmeng and Gusu, not quite so fine and costly as the robes he was married in, but wedding clothes none the less.

“Aiya, Lan Zhan!” he scolds, his heart beating twice as fast as usual at the smile on his husband’s face. “You can’t keep sneaking up behind me, all right? What if I’d dropped Xiao-Yu?”

(The effect of the rebuke is somewhat ruined, though, because Xiao-Yu chooses that moment to crawl up onto Wei Wuxian’s chest and hang there with nothing but the might of his sturdy little hands, proving that nothing would have happened even if Wei Wuxian did drop him.)

Wei Wuxian bites back a smile and tucks the little boy under his arm instead, stepping closer to Lan Zhan to see what he had been called out of the sedan for--and then he gasps and nearly drops poor Xiao-Yu again as his friend leads Little Apple into view, adorned in red and gold with bells on her bridle and silk ribbons on her ears, as if she were the bride here instead of Wei Wuxian.

“She has carried you a long way, in the past,” Lan Zhan says quietly. “I thought it was only fitting that she should carry you and A-Yu to our wedded home, like--like your parents.”

A tear rolls down Wei Wuxian’s face, and then another, until he has to fish for a handkerchief in the sleeve that doesn’t have Xiao-Yu in it and pat his eyes dry. “Lan Zhan, you remembered?”

“I remember everything you say,” his new husband tells him, before swinging him up onto Little Apple’s back and leading her toward the stairs. “Come along, Little Apple. Your master is coming home.” Wei Wuxian endures the ride up to the gates in a daze, scarcely registering anything but the soft tinkling of bells as they go, and then he nearly blushes himself to death when Lan Zhan stops Little Apple at the very top of the stairs and carries Wei Wuxian into the Cloud Recesses himself.

“That last was my privilege,” he murmurs, refusing to put Wei Wuxian down as all the disciples who were forced to miss the wedding come rushing up on their swords to throw flower petals at them. “Let me carry you to the jingshi, Wei Ying, and then you can rest for the day.”

If he doesn’t stop this--

Oh, Lan Zhan. If you don’t stop this, I’m really going to like being married to you.

[ecccentrick]

Before I read tgcf, what I got from fandom was that Mu Qing was the Jiang Cheng of tgcf....and I felt myself waiting and waiting and waiting for that to make sense to me the further I read. I guess if you go to the barest of bones he has similar resentment and inferior issues that Jiang Cheng has, but towards Xie Lian.

His resentment makes more sense though, and he is much more mature about it the entire time. Like, he's poor and taking care of his mother and suddenly this Prince decides to make him an important servant, so he now knows how the other side lives and how much Xie Lian takes it for granted when they were teenagers and young adults. He's also less naive about things than both Xie Lian and Feng Xin, because he had to be.

Jiang Cheng takes out his resentment and anger about his father not truly loving him out on Wei Wuxian, who has nothing to do with it since it began before Wei Wuxian was even in Lotus Pier. In the novel, its even said that Jiang Cheng isn't worried about Wei Wuxian when he disappears the first night he kicks little Wei Wuxian out of their room, he's worried that his father will love him even less if they can't find him. Which, as a child, isn't unusual, but it shows how quickly the resentment and anger grew. This was also fostered by his mother.

There are similar scenes of Jiang Cheng and Mu Qing not standing up for their respective brother/prince, but the stakes are much different. Mu Qing, newly back to being an Official, sees that he has to back the others because he doesn't want to go back to the poverty and dysfunction he was at before. Which, is shitty, yeah. But he finds Xie Lian and apologizes for it, and gets mud thrown at him. Instead of getting giving up he goes to the cottage they're staying at and gives them food and only fully backs off at Xie Lian and Feng Xin's reactions (which I will say, I do not blame them for).

Jiang Cheng, while at a perilous position after the attack at Lotus Pier, never stands up for Wei Wuxian when the mob mentality gets the idea to literally lay siege on WWX and the Wen remnants, when he knew they weren't an army of cultivators. Especially in the novel.

Yeah, Mu Qing secretly discharges Lil Hua Cheng from the army, the opposite of what Xie Lian wanted, and could be said it was because Xie Lian complimented Lil Hua Cheng's skills and recommended the saber for him, the same weapon he himself uses. But I also think it was partially because Lil Hua Cheng was also, well, Lil Hua Cheng. A child.

Centuries later, Mu Qing goes to help Xie Lian under a guise! Years later, after thinking him dead, Jiang Cheng immediately hits Wei Wuxian with Zidian! They are not the same!!

And, also, despite their fights, Mu Qing tries to help Feng Xin with Cuo Cuo and gets slandered for it! Mu Qing finds out about Hua Cheng's obsession with Xie Lian and tries to protect him! At the climax of the story, he thinks he's going to die helping Xie Lian and says he wants to truly be friends with Xie Lian (after saying some...less than sweet things, but still!!)

So, concluding this mess of ramblings, I think Mu Qing would beat the shit outta Jiang Cheng, or at the very least roll his eyes very hard at him. And despite my like of Mu Qing I still find Hua Cheng's deep grudge towards him very entertaining.

[drwcn]

... You know, I was just thinking about Hua Mulan ChengQing AU. Hahah, ha. This movie is SOMETHING. Handkerchiefs are necessary.

oh I HEARD? but idk if i wanna see it. I’ve seen other things Liu Yifei (Mulan) was in and i don’t really like her? 

NOTE: OKAY so there were some confusion!!! Before ppl get offended, anon and I are taking about two different movies. The one that anon is saying is good is Mulan (2009) an original Chinese movie BC I had been asking ppl where to watch it and received many inbox msgs about it. The Disney film is what I won't be watching for so many reasons, including bc I know the actress's work and is just unimpressed by her in general on top of all the other reasons.

Oh boy, but like...what IF it’s reverse!Mulan, aka matriarchal society. Where Jiang Cheng is the “sneak into the army for my family c”!Mulan and Wen Qing is the “I wanted to be a doctor but then the Fire Nation exploded in on itself”!Shang. And I worldbuilded for no reason...

tw: minor character death (suicide). un-beta-ed, unedited, unproof-read, we die like nmj

WEN QING

Wen Ruohan was never supposed to be the Emperor, Wen Qing’s mother once told her, but the imperial court had allowed him to inherit because his late Empress Mother had no daughters to inherit the throne. As long as WRH promised to father daughters and pass on through them, then the Wen dynasty legacy would be preserved. 

“What did his wife say, that her children must take his last name?” Wen Qing had asked her mother, wide eyed and curious. Her mother had shrugged and said, “Well some women don’t mind, I guess, especially if it meant her children would be heiress of the throne.” 

Wen Qing had frowned at that. What’s so bad about children taking their father’s name, she wondered. Men may not be allowed the same liberties as women, may not attend public school or join the army or hold court with the Empress, but they were still children’s parents. Not all women agreed on this of course, but that was the way of their world. 

Her father died of consumption some years after Wen Ning was born, but Mother never took a second husband or a concubine. Wen Qing liked that about her mother. Brave, loyal, true. 

Wen Qing’s mother, Dafan-junwang, a distant relation to the throne, was a renowned marshal, hailing from a proud line of generals and marshals, trusted by the Wen imperial family as protectors of the realm, without fear of usurpation. The people whispered that Wen Qing had much to live up to, if she were to inherit her mother’s duchy and hold a command of her own. 

Wen Qing never had much interest in war or martial arts, but she learned, trained, practiced and perfected her skills because she could never bear the thought of letting her mother down. In her heart (and in her free time), she learned the science and art known by father. He was a quiet man, a physician (quite skilled too), before he married her mother. He wasn’t what her grandparents would have wanted for their daughter, but Mother had been adamant. 

Wen Qing’s mother hadn’t been good at expressing her love, but she did love her husband. Very much. Mother was only ever soft around Father, and Wen Qing only knew this because she’d seen them hold hands when they thought no one was watching. 

Wen Ning, being the son of a wealthy aristocratic family, was destined to marry well when he came of age. Unlike girls, boys weren’t allowed to attend publicly funded scholarly schools or martial academies. Wealthy and noble families however were able to afford private tutors for their sons, so that they would know the four arts (play the qin, weiqi, literature, and art) and be elegant, competent husbands for their wives. If Wen Ning was competent enough, charming enough, and gave his wife daughters (because everyone knew it’s the men who control the sex of the baby), then she would be faithful to him -> at least that’s what their nanny said. 

“How did they know, that men determined the sex of the baby?” Wen Qing asked her mother one evening when she turned thirteen and was given The Talk. 

Her mother tilted her head and said as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. “My dear, women are the earth, we grow and birth life. Men are like the seeds. If you plant an apricot tree, the earth will nourish it and let it flourish, but the fruit will always be apricots, you will never have peaches.” 

Once, Wen Qing had asked her mother if she could be a physician instead, if Wen Ning could take her place as general. Her mother had given her a very stern look and said, “No only is your brother of a sickly disposition, but you are my daughter. The duchy and my command can only be inherited by you. For your country, you do not have a choice.” 

Wen Qing conceded, because she was good.

The days dragged on, and slowly it was becoming clear Wen Ruohan would have no daughters. Not only so, the sons he fathered were ill-mannered and haughty, unfit to rule. Wen Ruohan’s mind, too, was slowly leaving him, due to unknown reasons. The ministers of the court and notabilities of the peerage urged Wen Ruohan to take on the daughter of his cousin born of his maternal aunt, and to groom her as heir. This brought on much discontent from Wen Roohan’s two princes, who aligned themselves with lurking enemies from the north, and before anyone could mitigate the situation, the country was thrust into a full blown civil war. 

Every bit her mother’s daughter, Wen Qing did not hesitate to mount her horse and ride off into battle. She had her duties and she would serve until her death. 

Jiang Wanyin had a very pretty face - she would reflect in retrospect. Perhaps that was why she believed him when he showed up at her camp with a conscription missive claiming to be his older sister Jiang Yanli. 

JIANG CHENG

The Jiang family was a wealthy merchant family situated southeast of the capital, in the province of Yunmeng. The current head of family is Jiang Ziyuan, known for her sharp business mind and sharp ways with her sword.  

(the only reason i’m switching Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan’s last name is because it’s a matriarchal society, and Yu Cheng and Yu Yanli sounds way too awful as names, but Yu Fengmian and Jiang Ziyuan are actually not bad.) 

There was a rumour that her husband Yu Fengmian of a Meishan Yu clan, had betrayed her with a wandering traveler from the pugilist world named Cangse...something something, and that he had fathered a son with her out of wedlock. If it were true, then by the conventions of the land, Jiang Ziyuan would have every legal right to divorce Yu Fengmian and send him back to his family to live out the rest of his days in seclusion, shame and repentance. 

But when Yu Fengmian came to her with the little Wei Ying, freshly orphaned, Yu Ziyuan turned the boy this way and that, examined him for “abnormalities” and nodded. Then she summoned her son, and said to him, “Our manor purchased  some new indentured servants. This boys is yours from now on, he is your responsibility. Keep him in line, find some uses for him, or get rid of him.” 

Jiang Cheng looked to his big sister, but his sister just shook her head. Not quite understanding what was happening, or why his father was bowed down on the floor, Jiang Cheng took his new “servant” and left. 

Watching them go, Jiang Yanli then turned to her mother and said, “Muqin, if I may be so bold, I have an idea.” 

Jiang Yanli was not the heiress that Jiang Ziyuan had hoped for. Though incredibly intelligent, Jiang Yanli was of poor health and not suited for martial training. Jiang Ziyuan had been quite troubled by this for some time, fearing others would cause trouble once Jiang Yanli inherits. However, she was also hesitant to train her son Jiang Cheng, even though he showed both interest and aptitude. It was not often that well to do families would want to take on a too “rambunctious” boy as groom for their daughters. Yet to leave Jiang Yanli without close protection... 

“Are you thinking that boy...” 

Jiang Yanli nodded. “Father denies being Wei Ying’s paternal parent, but surely tongues will waggle regardless. Mother, you are within your right to dismiss father, but he is still my father, and if not for me, think of A-Cheng. One day he will marry, and what family would want a son with a disgraced sire. Wei Ying looks healthy and strong; as I am unfortunately unable to train with the sword, mother may yet train him. Surely you’re not worried about his future marriage prospects. Perhaps it is better yet that he never marries, for he will remain close to Lotus Pier and serve at my side.” 

Jiang Ziyuan listened to Jiang Yanli’s words and decided that her daughter made very valid points. Her relationship with her husband could never be repaired but she had her children’s future to consider. 

And yet happiness would not last for long. Two months after Jiang Yanli’s sixteenth’s birthday, she received news that her mother’s private boat, which she used to inspect her properties, had capsized in a terrible monsoon storm, killing everyone on board.  

After the news reached Lotus Pier, Yu Fengmian took his own life in the dead of night, leaving a letter stating that he had owed Jiang Ziyuan too much to repay, that though Wei Ying was not his son, he had kept secrets from her that he swore he would not reveal in this life. Now that she’s gone, he would keep her company in her journey to the beyond. 

The Jiangs mourned, but they survived.

Then when the boys turned seventeen, war broke out over the lands, and the conscription missives arrived demanding one female from every household. Jiang Cheng panicked. Wei Wuxian had been sent to Gusu on business and would not return for some time. The military missive was time sensitive, so Jiang Cheng didn’t have another choice...besides it’s not like A-Jie’s matchmaking attempts for him had been all that successful...he was next to blacklisted anyway after his last debacle with the Qin girl. 

Jiang Cheng decided that he could pass as a woman if he dressed properly and redid his hair, but his voice...he'd just have to pretend he could not speak. That way, no one would know. 

WQ: “Who are you?” 

JC *hands her his letter* 

WQ: “Jiang Yanli? The Yunmeng Jiangs? Of Lotus Pier?” 

JC: *nods*

Her subordinate, “I didn’t know Jiang Ziyuan’s daughter was mute, they only said she was of poor health.” 

-

Luo “Mianmian” Qingyang finds out first. 

Mianmian: *GASP and points* You’re a man! 

JC: *covers his body* SHH!!! Turn around! Don’t look at me! *turns to look away*

Mianmian: *naked by the river ready for a bath but too shocked to move* but, but, but, how?? How did we not know????

JC: Mianmian - no- Lt. Luo, please don’t tell the Young Marshal! Please, I only came so my sister wouldn’t have to -

MM: Cowardice! It is every woman’s sworn duty to - 

JC: My sister is of very delicate health. She won’t survive! She’s my late mother’s only daughter, if she dies... I’m expendable. I don’t mind being cannon fodder, please don’t report me. 

-

JC shivering in the snow. “You said you trust Yanli! Why should Wanyin be any different?!” 

WQ stood impassively over him with a sword at his neck. Then, she closed her eyes and turned away. “A life for a life. My debt is paid.” 

---

JYL: *Proud* “A-Cheng helped secure the future of our nation. The adopted young crown princess was too young to rule without a loyal regent, and Wen Ruohan’s sons colluded with outside forces...it would have been chaos. Millions would have died.” 

WWX *teasing* “Sure he brought home a sword, if you ask me he should’ve brought home a wife!”

---

JC, “W-would you like to stay for dinner - ” 

WWX: WOULD YOU LIKE TO STAY FOREVER? 

JC: Wei Wuxian! She’s regent now, be respectful!” 

WQ: Dinner...sounds lovely. 

[besanii]

“you don’t love me anymore?” for wangxian from the angst print list please ❤️❤️ (bc i love to hurt myself 😭😭)

Lan Zhan, I know you can hear me, so I’m just going to say it, alright?

You’ll probably be upset with me when you wake up and realise what I’ve done, but I’m going to do it anyway. You gave your life to save the world, so it’s only fair that someone should do the same for you.

Don’t worry about me. All members of the Phoenix Tribe will go through nirvana at least once in our lives and are reborn again. I’m just going through it a little earlier than expected, that’s all. 

He finds him dancing across the lake, surrounded by giggling water spirits, his long hair fluttering behind him as he leaps and twirls, his bare feet barely grazing the surface of the water. The lotus blossoms in the lake sing in response, pink and red petals unfurling as he passes, the soft glow of their spiritual essence hovering in the air like fireflies to greet him. There’s a soft, faraway smile on his face as he greets them with a bow, before he’s gone again in a flurry of silk.

His heart thuds painfully in recognition and he’s stepping out onto the pier before he can stop himself. 

At the first creak beneath his feet, all motion over the lake comes to a halt. It leaves him suddenly self-conscious as the young man pauses in mid-turn and looks at him curiously over his shoulder. 

“Wei Ying,” he breathes, frozen where he stands. “You’re back.”

Other immortals have always talked reverently about the Crown Prince of the Phoenix Tribe and his beautiful eyes, an enchantingly dark, silvery grey with starlight in their depths. Once upon a time, he had been held in those eyes above all others and they had shone for him and him alone. Now they hold no recognition whatsoever.

The realisation is like a lightning strike through the heart, shattering the world beneath his feet.

“Shangshen,” Wei Wuxian says with a polite bow, his fingertips clasped in front of his chest. “What can I do for you?”

“Wei Ying,” he says, horror creeping into his veins and into his throat, strangling his voice as he speaks. “Do you know who I am?”

Wei Wuxian’s head tilts to the side, confused.

“Of course I do,” he replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re Lan Wangji, the God of War.”

There was a time when Wei Wuxian would greet him with a beaming smile and boisterous laughter and throw himself into his arms without hesitation. The Wei Wuxian he remembers would have gleefully wormed his way to his side and batted his eyelashes at him until he acquiesced and showed him the affection he demanded. He searches for an inkling, a ghost of that Wei Wuxian now, only to be met with polite indifference.

It punches the air from his lungs until he’s shaking; he clenches his fists to stop himself from reaching out and grabbing hold of Wei Wuxian.

“Is there something wrong, Shangshen?” Wei Wuxian asks. Lan Wangji exhales.

“Do you not remember me?” he asks, already afraid of the answer. “Do you not remember...us?”

Wei Wuxian covers his mouth with a hand and laughs and for a moment, Lan Wangji’s heart soars with hope. Maybe this is a game and Wei Wuxian is only testing him—

“Us?” Wei Wuxian laughs again, but there is confusion in his eyes. “What do you mean? Have we met before?”

When he had woken up from his slumber after three hundred years, the fragments of his soul finally pieced together again and his heart beating to an unfamiliar rhythm in his chest, it was to the news that Wei Wuxian was gone. That he had exchanged his heart and all fifty thousand years of his cultivation for Lan Wangji’s resurrection.

The news had come, two hundred years later: the Crown Prince has returned, and Lan Wangji was out the door in an instant. Wei Wuxian is a phoenix, and phoenixes can be reborn. Wei Wuxian had come back to him at last.

That tiny shred of hope plummets back into the pit of his stomach and crumbles into dust. Wei Wuxian’s mother had warned him this may happen and his brother had cautioned him against hope, but he had not heeded their advice.

“Wei Ying,” he says numbly. “Wei Ying...I’m your husband.”

He waits with bated breath for any sign of recognition or recollection, but the confusion does not lessen in the slightest. Instead, a frown appears on Wei Wuxian’s face and he takes half a step back, suddenly wary.

“Husband?” he echoes. “Shangshen, you must be mistaken. I’ve never been married, so how can I have a husband?”

“Lan Zhan! We’re married now, so you can’t run from me anymore!”

Fondness bubbles up in his chest as he feels a pair of arms wind around his; he looks down to see Wei Wuxian beaming up at him, his dark grey eyes sparkling with mischief. He looks breathtaking in red.

There is no deception in his eyes, no amusement, no teasing; no matter how hard Lan Wangji tries, he cannot find a trace of his husband in Wei Wuxian. Still, he has to try. Wei Wuxian did not give up on him even in death, he refuses to give up on him in life.

“We were married five hundred years ago,” he tells him desperately. “It was arranged between the Nine Heavens and the Phoenix Tribe. Everyone thought we were being forced into it, but it was a love match.”

He remembers the whispers, the pitying looks they had received at the ceremony. The poor Phoenix prince, forced to marry a God almost twice his age when he could have his pick of any immortal in all the realms. He knew their age difference was larger than most and that marrying him would ruin Wei Wuxian’s chances of ever making a better match after his soul returns to the universe, but Wei Wuxian had only laughed and said it was none of their business who they chose to love.

The Wei Wuxian before him now only looks uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “A-Niang tells me I went through nirvana five hundred years ago and have only just woken up from the rebirthing sleep. I have no memories of my previous life.”

There is guilt in his eyes when he looks at Lan Wangji and his voice when he next speaks is kind, almost pitying. It stings more than incredulity.

“I don’t doubt we loved each other in my previous life,” he says. “But regardless of my feelings then, I do not wish to tie you to a marriage when my feelings are no longer what they once were.”

Lan Wangji feels the ground crumbling, piece by piece, around him as the words sink in; his legs buckle beneath him, sending him stumbling backward a step before he can catch himself. Still standing over the lake, Wei Wuxian’s body jerks forward as if to come to his aid. His fists flex repeatedly by his side but he does not move or speak further.

“You—” the words scrape his throat raw. “You don’t love me anymore?”

Wei Wuxian inhales sharply at the brittleness of his voice. His grey eyes are wide with shock and uncertainty as he stares at Lan Wangji; his lips part without a sound, the ghost of a tremor passing through them.

“I-I don’t—” he looks away quickly, lips pressed together in a thin line. “I’m sorry. I know you said we’re married—if you wish to divorce, I am willing to bear that responsibility—”

Lan Wangji gasps at the sudden, searing pain that erupts in his chest; he brings a hand up to press against it, feeling the way it races erratically beneath his hands, threatening to tear itself apart. Wei Wuxian turns back to him, horrified, reaching out to help, but Lan Wangji halts him with an outstretched hand.

“I-I’m sorry,” Wei Wuxian stammers again as he struggles to hold himself back. “Is there—are you alright?”

Lan Wangji takes several deep breaths, focusing his spirit inward to stabilise himself; the pain gradually subsides, leaving him weak and aching.

“Our marriage was decreed by both the Nine Heavens and the Phoenix Tribe,” he says heavily. “Everyone knows you are my husband, and I yours. A divorce would have lasting consequences for both realms. It is not so simple.”

“Oh,” Wei Wuxian says, gnawing on his bottom lip. “I guess—”

“If that is your wish, however,” Lan Wangji continues, staring at him with a hollow, wrung-out expression. “If that is truly your wish, I will do everything in my power to grant you your freedom.”

He straightens, clasps his fingers before him, and bows low at the waist. It is too formal a bow for a High God to give to an immortal half his age—he hears Wei Wuxian’s startled gasp, but pays it no mind. He is not bowing to just anyone. He is bowing to the man who sacrificed himself, the entirety of his existence, for him; the man who had done it all out of love for him. He is bowing to his husband, to whom he owes a debt too great to repay. The least he can do now is to set him free.

And then, before Wei Wuxian can recover from his shock to respond, he turns on his heel and leaves.

Lan Zhan, I’m giving you my heart, so you better take good care of it, alright?

If...if I survive this, if I am reborn again...A-Niang says I won’t remember anything about this life, so...this Wei Wuxian—the one who fell in love with you at first sight, the one who married you and willingly carved out his own heart to save you—this Wei Wuxian will die, and another one will take my place.

If you fall in love with him after I’m gone, I think I’ll be jealous. So please...promise me. Promise me that no matter how much you love him, you’ll save some of that love for me.

Goodbye, Lan Zhan. I love you.

Notes:

shangshen (上神) - High God

I guess you can consider this in the same verse as this previous prompt? Maybe? I don’t know where it fits exactly, but it’s Phoenix!WWX and Dragon/God of War!LWJ as well.

// buy me a ko-fi //

[guileheroine]

a sky full of song, chapter one

Korra, princess of the Water Kingdoms, receives a gift from her blacksmith friend on the auspicious winter festival / Korrasami royalty AU / ao3 / My piece for the @korrasami-valentine-exchange (assignment: Date A) (reposting with cover!)

“The wedding of the Earth Prince, yes, on the solstice. But it’s an opportune moment for a longer tour, we don’t want to waste the journey. I’m afraid your father can’t afford it, and before you ask, I’ve been conferring with your mother’s office. And frankly, I’m loath to request it of her after…

Councillor Panak trailed off as Korra hurried him along with a gesture of the hand. He pushed his eyeglass up his nose and took her eye seriously. “To the point, then—what do you say?”

Korra was tapping her foot under the meeting table. Prince Wu, if she recalled, was equally as intolerable as old Hou-Ting, the spirits bless his poor betrothed. But the prospect of a fortnight around the Earth Kingdom, with its delicious fare and diverse landscapes… that made her much more amenable to the whole idea.

“Around the solstice, huh? Alright. Why not.” It was a way off. She had time to arrange her retinue and her schedule as efficiently as possible for maximum enjoyment.

“…That means a tour to the Earth Empire in the spring—or summer, if Her Royal Highness prefers it?”

“Oh, spring,” Korra said in a rush. “Spring. I’m not sure I can do Earthen summers.”

Panak smiled quite kindly at that, and nodded at his scribe to jot it down. Korra returned his smile. They really were getting along better. It was nice. This meeting was also stretching much farther into the evening than she had understood it would.

The Lotus Guard at the doorway didn’t so much as blink as she pushed the heavy door open and went out. He was one of the older men, having been here long before the war, and quite accustomed to her ways.

Once Korra was out in the foyer, she raced. Her quarters, and her next appointment, were in the other wing of the palace, but she had promised to go see her mother first for a few minutes before the Queen went to bed. The winter sun was long gone; all the windows she skipped past were dark, torchlight gleaming on the icy sills. In the halls, on the other hand, the air was bright as frost, festive. She wove around decorators from all over Agna Qel’a hanging new crystalwork along the old bead tapestries and tying berry wreaths around the tall pillars. Down the stairs, in the main hall, the humongous fires that burnt uninterrupted over the winter lit the place generously. As she sped through, headed for the opposite staircase, Korra caught the eye of one of the housekeepers.

“Mina! Mina, are you busy?” She took the girl’s arm, whose eyes goggled, alarmed only at the princess’s sudden appearance but unperturbed by her familiar ways. “Could you go to the kitchen and send for some tea to my apartment? Milk and honey for me—and some of whatever black blend is left, what my blacksmith friend likes. They’ll know. Thank you!”

When she turned to continue, she was immediately waylaid by one of the ice sculptors.

“Your Highness! A moment.”

Just a moment to breathe was exactly what it took for Korra to finally notice the centerpiece of the hall: an elaborate sculpture-fountain of Yue. The moon and ocean spirits hovered above each of her hands, water pouring in gentle arcs out of their gaping mouths.

Korra’s father was pulling out all the stops for Yue’s Day. She knew, for her part, that it was a private gesture for the Queen, newly returned from a long diplomatic engagement with the northern Air court. Korra stood at attention for the sculptor, whose fingerless gloves allowed him to bend with especial precision.

“Should her hair run—” he said, bending Yue’s locks of ice into free-flowing rivulets, “or stand arrested?” Another curl of his palm froze them again.

“Freeze them. More volume!” Korra said, thinking of her mother, who always grumbled about her limp hair. Then she was on her way to the Queen’s chambers, and then her own.

“I got your tea. Hi, princess.”

Korra’s blacksmith friend took a pointed sip when she finally entered her drawing room. Asami’s smirk was hidden behind the glassy cup, and her hair was wet. One of Korra’s towels was slung over the back of her seat—one of the nice ones with the finely embroidered monogram.

“Asami. Sorry I’m late!” Korra slumped onto her divan, sending one of the cushions flying onto the carpet. “It’s good to see you.” She took a moment to catch her breath before picking the cushion up, sitting comfortably and grasping for the tray on the table.

“Don’t worry about it,” Asami said, moving the cup from her mouth, the smirk finally melting off. She pushed the tray into Korra’s reach. “I’m done for the day. A couple of the apprentices are closing up shop for the very first time.” Her brows waggled.

“Impressive! But still, thanks for coming. I know you’re working hard.”

“We had an appointment, right? And—” Asami grinned and stretched, pulling her warm wools tighter around her “nothing like the thought of a royal shower at the end of the day to get you through it, you know?”

Korra rolled her eyes. The staff knew to let Asami into Korra’s apartments, and even if she could tell they were a little reticent about her using the princess’s bath and vanity, they of course said nothing. The dogs more or less dragged Asami in through the gates every time she came by the palace, and by order of the princess, they were the ones that decided things in her absence.

Asami scrutinised the tray from the kitchen carefully before picking out a little moon pastry. “How was your meeting?” She took a bite, attentive both to the pastry and Korra.

“Looks like I’m going on tour to the Earth Kingdom in the spring,” Korra told her. She wasn’t surprised to see Asami’s brow spring up, and her taste-testing pause.

“What, all over?”

It was a town in the Earth Kingdom that Asami originally hailed from, before she travelled to the Fire Empire with her father, an innovator in the art of war. After the war’s end and the subsequent reunification of the Water Kingdoms, the newly humbled Sun Emperor had gifted King Tonraq an ancient forge for the royal armoury as a token of good faith and cultural exchange. Korra remembered how it had taken several pulleys, and days, for it to be transported into place in one of the main avenues in the city. They had set up a house around it for a new smith to eventually train locals in the foreign art. Asami—skilled as a metalworker, but bereft of a livelihood and a family after her father’s foundries were shut down—had decided to venture north to start afresh. She vied for the position and won it handily.

Korra glanced at her long. “You could come with me, you know. Take a vacation, if you manage to get this new shop set up in time. I’m sure you’ve trained all your underlings well.”

“We’re getting there,” Asami said vaguely. “But I’ll keep it in mind.”

Korra was musing, recumbent with her feet up now. “I must warn you, t’s for the wedding of the Queen’s nephew. They’re a lot stuffier in the Earth kingdom. All the pomp and pageantry,” she clarified. “I’m not looking forward to that part.”

“I’ll bet.” Asami gave her a sympathetic smile.

Sitting pretty in formal assemblies, she did not enjoy. Peace was harder than war, in a lot of ways. At least it was for Korra, who had been right at home as a strategist commanding the bending battalions in the few Fire Empire skirmishes that had reached the north. Or as a captain fending off the marauding warlords and shaman-kings in the southern fiefs who took advantage of the chaos to arouse the spirits and stage deadly rebellions. Her leadership, covert though it was, had played no small part in subduing the northern theater and paving the way for all the ancient Water tribes to be reunified under Agna Qel’a and her father’s leadership. The lasting peace of the years since had proven they were stronger together. Just as it had proven that the Princess’s patience for peacetime bureaucracy needed a good deal of practice.

“You should come. We’ll do you up as my retainer so you get a salary. I might need you to keep me straight.”

Asami was good at that, blowing off steam after long, boring days. The mellowness of the warmth, nothing like that of her forge, evened Korra’s mood like little else.

“Oh, so you want me to drop everything and trail you around as a handmaiden?”

Korra scoffed, embarrassed. “Well, don’t put it like that.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Asami sat up. “An Earth royal wedding, huh? Think they’ll let me in?” She picked at the cushion in her lap.

“They will if I have anything to say about it.” Korra yawned. “It’ll be my turn soon enough.”

“How’s your mother?” Asami said, following her train of thought seamlessly—it was always the queen that pestered Korra about finding a match, good-natured but more earnest than she ever realised she was appearing.

“Sleeping. She had a long journey back from the Northern Air Temple. Dad’s happy, though. Just casually planning her a ball this weekend for Yue’s Day.”

“Hey, is that what that business down in the hall is?” Some forgotten curiosity clearly jolted Asami. “There were all these new kayaks moored around the drawbridges when I came through, too.”

Korra nodded, while tentative recognition continued to filter into Asami’s expression. It was easy to forget Asami had been here nary a year. But she had, and it had been a busy year too, with little time for exploration, per her own frequent complaints. “You know about it, right?” When Asami shrugged evasively, Korra explained, “It falls on the day of the first full moon after the winter solstice. Yue was a princess of legend—our ancestor, apparently—who became the moon spirit.”

Asami sat forward. She loved tales like this, and listened to them like she was being entrusted a secret.

“We’ve celebrated it as long as anyone remembers, but the festival is supposed to usher good fortune and fertility. I think that’s why it became a couples thing.” Korra didn’t think much of that. “But, well, the idea is to spend the evening under the full moon, which is why all the kayaks are out. Really, everyone just needs an excuse to liven up the winter!”

“That I understand,” Asami said wryly, ill accustomed to the polar night. “Yeah, I went to the market in town to pick up some new gloves and they had stalls and stalls of new fare. Jewelry, wind chimes, furs.”

Korra sat up, conspiratorial. “I bet at least one of your new proteges will sneak you a little gift. I get messages every year. Mostly upstarts, but some cute ones, too.”

When Asami had first been appointed as the blacksmith, Korra was uncertain what a girl her age was doing heading up an official royal undertaking like that, with all its bells and whistles. When she arrived at a welcome dinner with her family, Korra found her altogether too precious, and definitely not deserving of the private summons and the White Lotus escort. Especially not when the whole rigmarole was keeping Korra from her planned retreat to the kennels for the evening, where, in the end, the strapping night guards were giggling and blushing about the new blacksmith.

At her father’s behest, Korra had put on her most functional anorak and taken Asami some cakes, conserves and newly dried jerky from the palace a couple weeks after their meeting. He insisted it was a part of the Princess’s duty to look after someone in their employ so new to the land—a girl her own age no less. Down in the city, the townsfolk were pleased to see Korra as she made her way to the workshop, but no one made a fuss (unless they were young and excitable already), unlike what she had heard of the other Kingdoms, larger and loftier as they were. She wondered if Asami the Blacksmith liked that about here, or found it lacked decorum, as Korra knew some folk abroad definitely did.

Asami had a study above the forge, from which she dealt with its administration, and living quarters on the next storey. These were yet lonely and sparse, but not completely devoid of homely touches, as though she would have spruced them up if she only had the opportunity. Korra noticed well-kept shrubs and a vivid landscape on the wall; then Asami came and curtseyed deep and pulled off her apron.

She was willowy and beautiful under the gear and the soot (over it, too, to be honest), which endeared and repelled Korra in fairly equal measure, ultimately leaving her as indifferent as ever.

“My parents and Lord Arnook want to know how you’re getting on.” Lord Arnook was the esteemed keeper of the royal armoury, and he liked Asami just as much as everyone else did.

A flicker of sadness—shame?—crossed her face, then she put her hand on the table. “Won’t you sit? Your Highness. Let me bring you something hot first.”

Asami lit the fire in the blink of an eye and stoked it without watching, like it was the back of her hand. She had some bread in the pantry, over which she spread the aqpik jam Korra had delivered her. Korra watched her as she boiled the water. Her skirt was heavy, probably to insulate from the heat and cold alike, but it fell flatteringly from her height; and her long hair, which had flown in waves in a foreign style at dinner, was pinned into a practical bun. She made a sharp, fragrant tea she had brought from the continent. Her eyes lit up unexpectedly when Korra bent her own cup to cool it.

“Ah, I love seeing that,” she cooed. “I suppose I’m still not used to it. The other elements don’t bend like that. And I hear you have great skill.”

Korra’s own smile came too quick for her to suppress. “Who told you that, the King?” Then she regarded her keenly. So, how are you… Do you need anything? Do the men from the quarry treat you okay?”

“Oh, everyone here is… They’re very warm. Makes up for the chill,” Asami laughed.

It was a line so hackneyed that gritting through it was itself a country-wide inside joke. But this calm and rosy girl injected fresh, charmless charm into it. Maybe everything was charming if someone this winsome did it. After that, Korra softened considerably.

“They are,” she replied, with no small amount of pride. A sudden shame crept up her chest, that she probably couldn’t count herself among those nice people that had made Asami feel welcome.

Then Asami swallowed and the colour of her voice changed. “I miss my home, though. I know this job is more kindness than I deserve, after what we did but… It is a little lonely here.” She confirmed what Korra had already deduced, mostly because she knew the feeling all too well. “I guess I just don’t have a lot of time to go and make friends after work.”

Korra didn’t doubt that; it was hard, physical work. The one or two times she’d witnessed it, the clang rang in her ears for hours afterwards. She wouldn’t have pegged a girl like this for it. Asami reminded her more of some of the young ladies she knew from her old classes, when all the children around the court would be dumped into the royal healing hut together for some hands-on learning.

“Have you been beyond the city yet? The land out there… that’s our land. This is just a fortress.”

“Oh, I’ve been wanting to,” Asami said, wistful. “Pretty sure I can’t go on foot though.”

“Well, if… if you don’t know anyone else, I could take you. I have the best dogs in the Four Kingdoms.”

Before the month was up, Korra had sent a commission to the Queen’s personal seamstress for some sealskin gloves and winter-grade furs. She gifted them to Asami on her birthday. “You need these anyway, I think, but you’ll definitely need them where we’re going.” And that night, Korra took her to see the aurora.

There was a hamlet a few miles north of Agna Qel’a where Korra knew the elderly chief and had asked her for passage to an outcrop in their territory, after divining the well kept secret that it was one of the prime spots for watching the sky dance. Asami, enchanted, never took her eyes off it—so unflinching that Korra almost began to feel envious of the lights.

It became a routine. Korra knew every inch of her realm. If a diplomatic mission sent her to one tribe or settlement, she would be sure to take a day or two exploring the local country before she returned to the capitol. It had been a great boon when the southern tribes first came under their stewardship. The Princess spent time in every village, took interest in their land and in their lore; met challenges of the wilds and the weather with hunger, and any unknowns thereof with abiding curiosity. She knew what to wear, which sled or boat to take. When to find the rarest whale pods before they went south; where the starriest cliffs were, and the sunniest lakes.

All of which impressed Asami a great deal, and that made Korra happier than most things. And no worse were the days they spent in her apartments going over the sordid palace gossip, or in her apartments tracing old scars by lamplight, healing them word by gentle word.

On Yue’s Day, Korra stopped by to see various palace aides located around the city with customary gifts. In a castle town, there were plenty with such connections, and she relished the ruddy smiles, quick drinks, and flustered curtsies she received in turn. She saved Asami for last, because Asami had asked for some time together. Korra entered the smithy by the front, her senses clogging with immediate heat. Two of the apprentices were there: one of them gaped while the other barely blinked.

“Asami? I come bearing punch… and those moon pastries you like!”

She commenced the usual ritual of announcing her presence over the steam and noise while peeling off all but a couple of her layers, when Asami emerged out of the back. She was squeezing her hands together in excitement.

“No, no, no, don’t,” she urged, a gleam in her eyes like the blades that hung behind her, “we’re going somewhere.”

A few minutes later, they were walking along the main canal under the sparkling lights, milling through the townspeople. A fresh drift crunched beneath their boots. In a few more, they were alighting one of the kayaks in the dock.

Asami faced her and paddled like a natural; and naturally, Korra gaped.

“Do not tell me you haven’t done this before!”

Asami’s tongue stuck out in concentration as she suppressed a giggle, but her limbs moved with finesse. “Just the once. So far. Don’t be distracting me.”

“I won’t let us capsize,” Korra assured her.

Eventually, Asami settled into her rhythm, and the canal carried them out of the city, past all the lights. The banks of glass-cut brick gave way to a more jagged channel littered with pack ice at its mouth, floating blue and still. Korra gripped the edge of the kayak, not for any physical comfort. A crackling anticipation, and an unnameable fondness both, were welling and welling in her with every mundane word they shared.

When they disembarked on the lake’s other edge, the ice was landfast: a ghostly field glowing under the full moon.

Korra knew this place, but she had scarcely been here in the middle of winter, when the ice field extended endlessly, as vast as the sky. As they tramped across the snow, she began to wonder what Asami’s surprise was. There wasn’t much for a mile in any direction.

“We should sit for this,” Asami said, pointedly ignoring Korra’s prying questions.

The wind had kicked the snow up into berms along the field. Korra froze one so it was sturdy enough to perch on. Then Asami took her pack, and pulled out some plain tubes of parchment; nothing Korra would have looked at twice, although she didn’t know what they were.

“What’s in there?” She said.

“Some of my metals, some of my salts,” Asami replied enigmatically, almost sing-song. “Wait here.”

She heaved herself off the berm, ran several yards towards the horizon and stooped. She planted the tubes, and did something else Korra couldn’t see, though she thought she recognised the bright filigree on the cover of the pocket matchbook Asami carried everywhere.

When Asami had trundled back and sat again, Korra crossed her arms and laughed, bemused, her humour ebbing. “Are you going to tell me what’s going—”

BOOM!

Korra gasped, startled out of her words. She would have fallen from the perch if Asami didn’t catch her around the waist, giggling blithely all the while—

A wheel of light bloomed in the sky like a flower, dazzling and surreal. All the colours of the aurora—except they were peals of crystal fire, pouring out like diamonds before disappearing into the smoky air. Another wheeled up after it with a strange whirr, before it exploded into a glittering shower, and more in succession.

They reminded Korra of the spirit hales in the heart of the wilds, and even deeper in a buried memory, of the Fire explosives some of the raiders had once set off on the Southern Sea. Except these were brighter—and safer, because Asami had made them.

Korra looked to her when they had died, beaming under the mitten that covered her mouth in shock. “Are there more?”

To her eternal delight, there were more. New flowers sprouting on the celestial vault, they would be burned in her memory forever.

“They’re no aurora,” Asami said, while Korra scoffed and slung her arms around her, huddling for the cold and the buzz. Under her embrace, and half her weight, Asami looked chuffed. “But I thought they might liven up your night.”

Korra cupped her earmuff, then her cheek. “Thank you. This is the best day I’ve had all winter.”

Asami’s pyrotechnical skills didn’t even surprise her, but that could hardly diminish the sheer majesty, and novelty, of the display. Even minutes later, Korra could hardly believe what she had seen.

“Well, I couldn’t let you be the only show-off around here.” Asami smiled. Then the smile dropped from her eyes and she hesitated, like she couldn’t let that sit for an explanation. “Korra. I wanted to do something special. You’ve made me feel at home here in a way I never imagined. And I’m just a smith, from the Fire Empire!”

Korra felt her eyes water and blinked the tears back quickly, because they would ice and sting in the bitter air. She bit the smile off her lips. “You’re not just anything. You’re a terrific handmaiden.”

She snorted as Asami shoved her off and reached for her pack again.

“One more thing. I thought it might be too smokey for this after all those incendiaries, but it’s worth a shot anyway.”

This time Korra recognised the device she emerged with. It was made of two cylinders, and the mechanism that held them together spun smoothly like the spokes of a wheel. She handed it to Korra, who held the spyglass up.

A field of stars materialised. Korra held her breath.

The stars were luminous at the poles, but she had never seen them like this, and for the first time they felt close enough to touch, invoking a bracing, irrepressible wonder. In silence, she gazed.

“The moon spirit leads all the stars out tonight, right?”

Asami had done her research. Korra turned back to her. “So they say.” She hooked her arm through Asami’s, and held her hand. With the spyglass still to her eye, she let her head fall against Asami’s bundled shoulder.

“Tired, princess?”

Korra rustled her breath, long-suffering. “Why do you call me that!”

The way Asami said it—like it was something of her own decree, and not that of ten thousand years of tradition and some profoundly sacred doctrines. There was a sweet and strange tug in Korra’s belly whenever it happened, and this time, tonight, it lingered longer than ever.

“‘Cause you’re a piece of work,” Asami said, trying to interlace their thick, mittened fingers, which required some effort.

Tentatively, Korra turned the spyglass to the moon herself. She winced— it glared straight back, too bright. Maybe another night, when it wasn’t Yue’s Day.

Yue’s Day. She now held the thought delicately in her chest, as if she wanted to guard it from the wind and chill. If Asami loved her—were to love her—there were several reasons not to say it. They both knew them, whether they had turned them over consciously or not.

But the risk of showing was low. And the reward, as her own euphoric mood tonight proved, was magnificent.

[winterfrostlovetriangle]

My Love: Part III

The third and last installment of the My Love mini-series. It's a bit long. As always, thank you to my lovely beta reader @lotus-eyedindiangoddess!

Summary: You dreaded this day and you hated breaking his heart, but it was the only way. A prophecy had decided your fates long before they became intertwined. You could only hope that your gift would give him purpose and another reason to love.

Pairings: Loki x y/n, Loki x daughter, Loki x Thor

Warnings: Mentions of death, sadness, fluff. Don't worry, there is a happy ending.

Masterlist

Part I | Part II | Part III

(gif not mine)

He paced the floor, hands behind his back, chewing his lip, and lost in both thoughts of the past and present. They had only been married for a year, it was too soon. Surely there was something the Asgardian healers could do something, with all of the skills they possessed there would be a cure. He couldn't lose you - he wasn't ready. He simply needed to be patient but it was so hard.

A smile tugs on the corners of his mouth as he remembers the first day he met you. It was a beautiful sunny day and he had just finished sparring with some poor servant. He was on his way back from the training grounds when he was stopped by the most beautiful sound he had heard. Following the song, he found you in the garden. Loki listened, completely entranced by her beauty. There was something more than just your song and outward beauty that drew him to you. It was as if he knew you - as if he had known you all his life. When you finally realized he was there, you had been a blushing mess. He smiled and took you in his arms, swaying around the garden in perfect sync. The world faded away and it was just the two of you.

Loki is brought out of his reverie by someone clearing their throat. He looks up and sees Thor, a sympathetic expression. The raven-haired prince was too tired and worried to be annoyed with his brother. He didn't need sympathy, he needed his wife.

Thor, who was usually never to be lost for words, couldn't think of one word that Loki hadn't heard before. The recently crowned king stands beside his brother, placing a large hand on Loki's shoulder and clears his throat.

"The sun will shine on us again, Brother. One way or another, it has and it will. I…” he sighs, “the only promise I can make is that we will scour the Nine Realms until we find a cure for her. She will be well again." Thor smiles lightly as he continues, "And soon enough, your wife will be up chasing after you and your new bundle of trouble."

A ghost of a smile passes over Loki's lips. "Thank you, Brother. Nothing will be the same without her if..." his voice cracks.

"No, it won't. Y/N is the heart and soul of the kingdom, everyone will miss her, including me. She was a sister to me and pushed me to better. I will do everything I can but right now, your daughter needs you. You have not seen her since she was born."

Loki looks at Thor, his eyes wide. “I can’t...I know nothing of infants. None of them like me. I still haven’t held her. I am afraid I will break her.”

“You will have to hold her at some point. I will not let my brother be estranged from his beautiful baby girl. I am king, Loki, do not make me decree it.”

Loki sighs and slumps his shoulders in defeat. His usual confidence was totally broken. He knew Thor was right. He nods and his brother smiles and follows him in to see the baby. Their room was strangely quiet, lit by a fire and a few candles scattered throughout the room. The only noise was the clatter of the men’s footfalls on the tiled floor. When they approached the crib, Loki let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. His heart thunders in his chest and he is sure the entire kingdom can hear it. As he finally works up the courage to look in the crib, his breath catches. The little girl, which he had only seen once since she was born, looked so much like Y/N. A slight smile crosses his face as he studies her features. He swallows hard and his hands flex wanting to hold her but he is too afraid she will disappear as well. Shaking his head, Loki backs away.

“I-I cannot...I must see to my wife.”

Thor sighs and steps closer to the crib, smiling at his new niece. “Hello, little one. We will do what we can for your Mother, I promise.”

One of the nurses picks the baby up and gently places her into Thor’s arms, who looks awkward holding the tiny bundle. After the nurse shows him the correct way, the king grins and coos at his niece.

Loki takes a deep breath and pushes the noises of his brother out so he can focus on Y/N. You look so weak and pale, your eyes are sunken in and barely open, your breath rattling in your chest. He takes your hand in his, frowning as he notices how cold it is. He has tried everything he could think of, including his own magic but nothing worked and he didn’t understand why. Lost in his thoughts, Loki barely heard you trying to talk.

“Are you alright, love?” You ask weakly.

He gives you a watery smile. “I will be as soon as you are up and filling the palace with song and dance again,” Loki notices you don’t smile when he says that and frowns. “Love?”

You take a deep breath which causes you to cough, your whole body shaking. When you finally collect yourself, you take both of his hands weakly in your own.

“I have something I need to say...and I know you won’t like it but I need you to let me finish before you say anything.” Loki nods uncertainly and you continue, “I - was born only for one purpose…” You pause, unable to look at him. “to bring a baby into the world who would do great things when they are older. He or she would reunite the realms and bring peace to all. They will be a great leader, Loki.”

Another coughing fit racks your body and your husband hands you a goblet while looking bewildered and confused. After taking a sip, you sink further into the pillows before beginning again.

“This prophecy was foretold even while I was in my mother’s womb. When I was old enough, my parents told me what was to come and I had no choice but to embrace my fate. I had no idea until the day we met that I would be having your child. I couldn’t help but fall in love with you. You were mysterious, chaotic, and pompous.” You take another breath and finally look lovingly at Loki. “And even though I knew what was to come, I would do it all again.”

So many emotions flood Loki’s mind. Each one creating a different expression on his face. He looks back at you, tears beginning to fall down his pale cheeks.

“Y-you married me even though…? Why didn’t you tell me?” His eyes flash with understanding. “That is why nothing we try helps...

You nod slowly. “Because I didn’t know how you would react. I was afraid you would close yourself off from me or even worse, never love me. You needed love, Loki. And you let me in and I couldn’t bear to see it all fade if you knew the truth. I love you and I always will.”

Loki chokes back a sob and lays his head gently against your bosom.

“Promise me one thing, my prince. Promise me that you will love our little girl. Teach her your ways for me?”

The raven-haired prince nods, his reply muffled. “I will, love. I will…”

You smile softly and run your fingers through his dark mane. “I love you, my darling Loki…” you whisper as you take your last breath.

After a beautiful burial ceremony, Loki hesitantly walks into the nursery where one of the maids is preparing the new princess for bed. He dismisses her and looks at his daughter before carefully picking her up. He shakes his head and places her back in the crib. The little girl immediately begins to fuss. After a minute of not being able to stop the crying, Loki picks her up again, and using his Aesir, he creates an illusion of tiny animals frolicking together. The scene distracts the baby from her fussing and she watches in awe. Loki beams and begins rocking her gently, letting the illusion continue for a few more minutes before disappearing. He smiles at her lovingly.

“How much you look like your mother. Shall I tell you about her?” The baby makes a sound like she agrees and Loki sits down to tell her their story.

Thor, who had been peeking into the room, smiles at his brother and niece before softly closing the door behind him. He looks up at the ceiling, tears forming. “Thank you for your gift, Sister. They will be all right. We will be a family…”

At the end of his story, Loki looks thoughtfully at the little bundle in his arms, something dawning on him.

“With everything that happened, we forgot to give you a name.” He thinks for a moment then smiles. “I will name you Sylvie. Do you like that?"

Sylvie smiles and coos, wiggling happily.

Loki chuckles and holds her up. “Sylvie - Lokisdottir, Princess of Asgard and Jotenheim!”

Tom/Loki Tag List:

@lots-of-Loki

I Want it all Tag List:

@fics-for-kit @myraiswack @stardustmoon-luna @aurorarosebarnes @a-mess-of-fandoms @vodka-and-some-sass