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tsushimanoonryo · 3 years

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Drabble: Chiyoko pt. 3

Kazumasa had been true to his word and began to treat Chiyoko with a little more respect. However, in the seven years that had passed since then, Hiroto could tell that his friend still had warmed up to the idea of marrying his little sister.

At eighteen, Chiyoko had blossomed into a beautiful young woman, but she still had an eccentric streak. She’d stopped chasing bugs and animals, thankfully, but she preferred to be outside in nature when most women of her class would be inside reciting poetry or perfecting their other artistic endeavors. The one time she was meant to be outside was when it came time to practice wielding the naginata. Samurai women were expected to use it to defend their homes when their men were at war, but Chiyoko was always conspicuously absent for those training sessions.

Kazumasa was not keen on marrying a woman who could not defend the Sakai estate while he was away at war.

“You know as well as I do, these rumblings in Yarikawa are going to come to a head soon,” Kazumasa hissed as he fussed with the haori himo of his wedding kimono. “Do you think Castle Shimura and the Sakai estate will be safe? If you do, you’re a fool. How is Chiyoko supposed to defend herself if she can’t tell one end of her naginata from the other?”

“She would be welcome to stay with my mother and my wife,” Hiroto said. “And stop fiddling with that.”

“Your mother is old and your wife is pregnant,” Kazumasa hissed. “How much help are they going to be?”

“My brother’s wives will be with them also,” Hiroto reminded them. “She would not be left alone.”

“Even so,” he said. “My estate would be. It’s shameful, knowing my wife won’t be able to defend our home when the time comes for it.”

Hiroto shot him a warning look and that shut Kazumasa up immediately. Although he didn’t look happy about having to hold his tongue.

“I understand your concerns,” Hiroto said. “And when you are her husband, you can bring this up with her. But until then, do not make today hard for my sister. Let her have this one day of happiness.”

Kazumasa still didn’t look pleased, but he stood up straight and took a steadying breath.

“I suppose I can do that,” he said. “For you, my friend.”

“And for her.”

“Yes,” Kazumasa said glumly. “And for her.”

………………………………………………….

Usually there was much more fanfare to these things. The wedding procession was small, consisting only of the immediate family of both the bride and groom. Although Hiroto had downplayed it when talking to Kazumasa, the Yarikawa threat was a lot worse than he’d let on. Both families agreed that the wedding was necessary to seal their alliance, but that it needed to be small so as not to draw attention.

It is a shame, though, Hiroto thought. Chiyoko really does look beautiful today.

Truthfully, he could not see her face because of the wataboshi. But even so, she cut a fine figure dressed in a stark-white kimono, intricately embroidered in white and silver thread with floral motifs. The only bit of her that was visible was her pale white hands, clutching her ceremonial fan.

Chiyoko was led out to meet Kazumasa by the Shimura women. She kept her head down as she walked, careful not to show her face to anyone until her intended had seen it first. Hiroto watched as she approached the groom and finally lifted her head to meet his eyes.

The change that came over Kazumasa was visible to everyone in the bridal party. Whereas before he’d been sullen and dour about this wedding, he now looked utterly bewitched. His eyes seemed to glaze over momentarily and once clarity returned to them, a flush crept up his cheeks.

“Lord Sakai is blushing,” a voice near his left elbow said. “I didn’t even think he could.”

Hiroto turned to find his wife Yua standing at his side, gently rubbing at the swell of her stomach. Hiroto felt a wave of affection wash over him as he saw her, but willed himself to only give her a brief smile. A samurai was in control of his emotions after all; it wouldn’t do to appear a lovestruck fool at someone else’s wedding.

“I didn’t think he could either,” Hiroto admitted. “I suppose there’s a first time for everything. Does my sister truly look that beautiful?”

“She does,” Yua said. “Much more beautiful than I did at our wedding.”

“Impossible,” Hiroto said. “I married the most beautiful woman on the island.”

“You’re biased because I’m carrying your son inside me,” she said with a laugh. “But I’ll take the compliment.”

“You really think it’s a boy?”

“Your mother said I’m carrying the way she did with you and your brothers,” Yua said. “It has to be.”

Hiroto knew it was foolish to hope. There was no way for sure to know until the baby arrived, but even so, he smiled at the thought that she’d give him an heir within a year of marriage. Not that he had much for his heir to inherit. As the jito’s fourth son, there wasn’t going to be much left for him to inherit.

………………………………………………….

The procession from the Sakai estate to the temple at Omi Monastery was slow going, although the distance wasn’t that far. They were supposed to be inconspicuous, but even so, it seemed Lord and Lady Shimura wanted everyone in the village to see their daughter marrying the heir to Clan Sakai. They chose the most circuitous route to the temple, using the excuse that this was the “most auspicious” path.

Half-way there, it began to rain and the procession nearly stopped. They would have, had Chiyoko not finally spoken up.

“You’re going to ruin your kimono,” Lady Shimura argued. “And then you won’t be able to give it to your daughter when she marries.”

“I won’t have a daughter,” Chiyoko said defiantly. “I’m going to give Lord Sakai a son. I’ll have no need for this stuffy old thing after today. And we’re almost to the temple.”

Lady Shimura looked to Kazumasa, silently pleading with him to talk some sense into his future wife. But Kazumasa was, for once in his life, silent. He kept looking at Chiyoko like she was some sacred object to be worshipped. Not the girl he’d been complaining about having to marry less an hour before.

“Seems there is a fox wedding today too,” Yua said from his side.

Hiroto turned to look at her, brow furrowed in confusion.

“It’s a sunshower,” she said, gesturing to the rays of light showing through the droplets of rain. “Isn’t that what the old folktale says? When it rains while the sun is out, a fox is having a wedding.”

Something bothered him about that. Hiroto vaguely recalled a memory from his childhood that he had buried deep within himself. Something about a fox cub that had been dying on the outskirts of the forest..

“I can’t remember if it’s supposed to be good luck or not,” Yua said, tapping her chin as she thought. “I hope it is.”

“I hope so too,” Hiroto said, withdrawing from his reverie. He suddenly felt very strange and wanted to get out of the rain. “I hope so too.”

………………………………………………….

They had mostly dried off by the time the ceremony was over, although Chiyoko’s white kimono was forever ruined by the rain. No one seemed to mind, though, as the mood grew quite jovial once the sake started flowing.

“You’ve changed your mind about Chiyoko, I see,” Hiroto said to Kazumasa once they’d gotten a moment to themselves.

“I can’t remember why I was so against this whole thing,” Kazumasa said, speech slurred slightly with drink. “Look at her, Hiroto. Isn’t she lovely?”

Now that the wataboshi was off, Hiroto could get a clearer look at his sister. She was lovely, especially the way his sisters-in-law had done her hair and cosmetics. But she didn’t look that different from how she normally looked. He didn’t know why Kazumasa was so smitten. But he supposed he’d rather that than have him complain about Chiyoko all night.

“I’m glad you’ve come to your senses,” Hiroto said. “And I’m glad you made today nice for her.”

“I’m going to make every day nice for her if I can,” Kazumasa said. “I’m going to break things off with Tsuna the first chance I get. I’m done with other women.”

“The sake’s gotten to your head, my friend,” Hiroto laughed.

As much as he would have loved for Chiyoko to be the only woman in Kazumasa’s life, he knew the way of the world. And he knew how Kazumasa liked to carry on at the teahouse.

“I mean it,” he said. “Maybe all men feel like this on their wedding day. But right now, if she asked anything of me, I’d give it to her. Anything.”

Hiroto thought back to his own wedding day. His had been an arranged marriage and he hardly knew Yua when they were wed. But in the year since, he’d grown to care for her very deeply. He would give her anything she asked for. Within reason. But that feeling had come in time, after he’d really gotten to know her.

“I think,” Hiroto said tactfully. “That you should perhaps have some water for a bit.”

“Ha!” Kazumasa laughed. “Afraid I’ll not be able to perform my duties tonight when I bring Chiyoko back home to my estate? You dog.”

“That’s not at all what I was implying,” Hiroto said. “But now that you mention it…”

#drabble #headcanon #chiyoko sakai #chiyoko shimura #lord shimura #kazumasa sakai #ghost of tsushima #backstory #fanfiction #cut for length #chiyoko sakai was a kitsune and you cannot tell me otherwise #pregnancy tw #pregnancy cw

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revengeoftheantichrist · 3 years

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What Kind of Man

Warnings: Arranged Marriage, Period typical sexism

AO3

Chapter 1: White wedding

A storm was brewing.It was the beginning of summer in Southern England, far too late in the year for weather like this. Maybe it was a symbol of what was to come, an omen. Despite the weather, the village was abuzz. Your house being the centre of the commotion. The occasion was supposed to be one of immense joy, of happiness and of love. It was the day that little girls and young women alike had dreamed of, the day their lives would change. However, for you the air of the day of your wedding was sombre, but maybe it was just you, you felt like you were about to attend your own funeral. //// You sat in front of the mirror while your mother braided your hair back into a low bun. You were still in awe at the crisp white fabric of your dress. Although you had made the dress yourself, the fabric itself was gifted to you by your future husband, he had spared no expense it seemed. You still had the letter that came with the package that day, it was the only piece of correspondence you had with the man. Your mothers face was beaming with joy as she did your hair, you however looked as gloomy as the weather outside. “Mother? Do you hate me?” you asked. Your mother stopped braiding your hair and looked up at you through the mirror. “why would you think that my child?” “you’re sending me so far up north, where its cold, you know I love the sun more than anything” She finishes off your hair and inserts some delicate pieces of ‘baby’s breath’ into the back. “My dear, as women we must make sacrifices for our families no matter how hard they maybe. Your brother wouldn’t suggest someone he didn’t trust, and be grateful, your marrying a Count. It brings me great joy that you will be taken care of in a way no other boy in this village could, I can die in peace knowing you won’t starve to death.” She puts the final touches in your hair, and you wrinkle your nose at the mention of death, a topic your mother seemed to discuss more often now. “now please put a smile on your face, you look utterly miserable, it isn’t your wake it’s your wedding, so please try to look the part of the blushing bride”, she said as she kissed your cheek. You huff and force a smile. “And stop huffing and puffing, it’s very unladylike.” You resist the temptation to roll your eyes. Before the conversation could go any further, your friend burst through the door, “HE’S HERE!” “Catherine please don’t do that again, I could have pinned the veil into Y/Ns head, and we don’t want any blood on the wedding day, its bad luck”. Your mother says as she finishes pinning your veil. A knock on the door interrupts you once again, this time it was your father. “ready to go?” he asked. “Oh yes yes just adding some last touches” your mother replied for you. “I would like a moment alone please, I’m a little nervous”, you said. “well… be downstairs in 10 minutes, we mustn’t keep the Count waiting,” your father responded. They all left the room, leaving you to your thoughts. You thought about the man you were about to marry, a Northern Count that you had never met before. Although you had never left your village, the name ‘Michael Langdon’ was known far and wide. You had heard stories of his beauty and charm from the women who never seemed to shut up. Your own friend Catherine had met him once at an event in London and sang his praises for days, you thought she’d gone mad. But you’d also heard stories about him from the men, stories you shouldn’t have heard. You couldn’t help yourself; you weren’t allowed in the parlour room when your brother was entertaining guests after his return form the Grand Tour. So, you spent the evenings with your ear pressed against the door, and you heard everything. Your brother spent the nights boasting about the debauchery and revelry he participated in, with your to-be husbands name mentioned on numerous occasions, he seemed to be the ringleader of all the ‘activities’ the boys got up to. Your first impression of him was not that great. Thinking back on all the stories did nothing to calm your nerves. The feeling of dread just seemed to get worse. You took one last look at yourself, smoothing down your dress. You picked up your lace gloves and put them on. Finally, you pulled your veil over your face and started making your way downstairs. //// You stood waiting for the doors to open as the bells rang to signal your arrival. Those bells wouldn’t be enough to ward away the evil that was to come. You held your fathers arm so tightly, you felt like a child learning to walk again. The doors started to open, you thought you would pass out. “Remember, look happy”, your mother’s voice echoes in your head and you force a little smile. You start walking down the aisle, trying not to look at the man you were to be bound to. But the walk did not last long enough. You stood at the front facing him. Michael lifted your veil and you finally looked at him. Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked into those icy blue eyes. His golden hair, slightly curled, rested on his shoulders. You thought for a minute that an angel from the stained glass that surrounded you had come to life and graced you with his presence. But the smirk that was present on his plump lips told another story. You had spent so long gawking at your groom that you didn’t realise the ring had been placed on your finger, and it was your turn to say your vows. You looked down at his hands as he removed his glove, the bright red seemed so out of place for a ceremony like this. You repeat after the priest and place the ring on his finger; thunder booms in the sky. If you hadn’t been in such a daze, maybe you would have noticed how cold his hand was. The priest finishes the ceremony with a “you may now kiss your bride”. Michael leans down and gives you a quick peck. His lips had felt so soft, and as you turned to leave the church, you knew you finally looked the part of the ‘blushing bride’ //// The carriage ride back to your home was so quiet. You spent the journey looking out the window, taking in your village for what felt like the last time. You felt Michael staring at you, but your daren’t look at him again, fearing you may be bewitched by him. You had never been so thankful to see your front door; you could have leaped out the carriage. Michael got out first, offering his hand to help you out. Just as you both stepped into the house, thunder boomed again, and the rain pelted down as the door was closed. A minute too late and you would have been soaked. You were both surrounded by your guests, congratulating you on your marriage. You both thanked them for attending, while making your way over to the dinner table to cut the cake. You both held the knife, your gloved hand gripped by his as you cut into the cakes, you squeaked at seeing the inside was red, like blood. You heard Michael chuckling behind you, “its red velvet my dear, quite the rage in the Americas”. Your guests, just like you, were fascinated by this new flavour, but you were reluctant to try it, the nausea of the day getting worse at the thought of food. You both sat at the dinner table to eat with your guests. You ate very little, fearing you may be sick at any minute. Michael was a different story; you saw him eat more cake than a child on their birthday. He turned to you, holding out his dessert fork, “here, try some, I’m being generous I don’t usually share my desserts”. You rolled your eyes and reluctantly leant forward, allowing him to feed you a piece. You smiled at him, “its quite nice actually”. “I know” he replied and turned back to speak to another guest. You wanted to slap that smirk off his face. //// The evening came and the weather showed no sign of stopping, maybe it was a blessing and you could spend one more night in your childhood bed. But Michael had other plans. He stood and turned to your father, “we should really get going, I unfortunately have important business to attend to back home and it can’t wait any longer,” It was as if his honey like voice had your father in a trance. Your father being the logical man her was, would never let you leave in such terrible conditions. Yet he replied with a quick “oh yes of course”. You tried to be the voice of reason, “but the weather is terrible, the roads outside this village are prone to flooding, and I haven’t even changed yet.” Michael looked at you like you were stupid, “my dear, we do not have enough time for you to get changed, its late already and we won’t arrive until early tomorrow morning. Worrying about the roads isn’t your responsibility” he said. You father replied “Michael’s right, the carriage has already been loaded with your things and all your dresses are in there. Who are we to interfere in the business of a Count?” Michael looks at you condescendingly again, the urge to hit him resurfaces as your fingers twitch, you wonder why this man makes you want to be so violent. Your family walks you both to the door, saying their goodbyes. You wish you’d hugged them tighter. Your mother kisses your cheek one final time, “pull your veil down dear, its bad luck for your face to be seen during your journey to you new home. Make sure you write to me as soon as you get there, I’ll worry until I get your letter.” “of course, mother I won’t forget” you reply. You turn to enter the carriage and Michael pulls your veil over your face, “bad luck, remember” he says. You enter the carriage, resisting the urge to knee him in the groin, and wave back to your parents as it pulls out. You can barely see their faces through the rain, but it would be the last time you would. Michael sits opposite you, stretches and places his feet next to you. “there’s so much rage in you today, your jaw might hurt from all the clenching. Be a little happy, you’ve married a Count” he said. You looked at him, grateful your veil and the darkness obscured his face, “I’m making a big change Count Langdon, your county is very far from my home, and this marriage was my dear brothers’ decision, not mine. I’d like us to get along so Ill hold my tongue for now. If it isn’t a bother, I’m quite tired and id like to sleep.” You shot back. His jaw clenched, his hand shot out and grabbed your chin like a vice. In a low snarl he replied, “then sleep”. With those words, your eyes fell shut, giving in to the overwhelming urge to sleep, you face still in Michael’s hands.

Next>>>

#my writing #michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #WKM1

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belovedrival · 2 years

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Yesterday I took a walk around the village. Not completely around, just down the main street (named Main Street), and turned down a winding lane on the western edge of town that loops back around to Main, and went back home. It was cold, but sunny. My favorite weather in late autumn/winter. Seriously - there could be twelve inches of snow on the ground, or it could be ten degrees Fahrenheit, but as long as the sun’s well out, I’ll like it. 🌞

No snow here for now. That’s okay. We’re traveling in a couple days so who needs that hassle? Not us!

I miss the bike trails in our old town. And the trees. The nice thing about living in such a rural place, though, is that you can pretty much walk down the middle of the street if you like. I don’t, unless I want to take a picture from the western end of the village to show that there’s no one on Main Street from one end of it to the other. 😊(At least for a couple minutes - there were a couple cars on the street not five minutes before.)

The fields are empty now. But there’s life going on under the soil. Birds fly overhead. Looking west over the fields yesterday, I felt peaceful. It was nice.

Mister was home and Jonas was napping, or else I would’ve taken him with me. One picture I did not take was of the huge combine parked in front of the house all day Saturday and part of Sunday. There was a wedding Saturday afternoon and the bride and groom had pictures taken on the combine. We don’t usually have any kind of farming machinery parked on our street, so that was different 😄 As is usual, we knew the family of the bride. This area is thick with Bride’s Former Last Name. I sing in the choir with her mom and brother. He was the one who drove the combine over.

Have a good week, friends. Try to catch a few quiet moments when you can. 🎄

#light #sunlight #countryside #village #home #life #real life #i want to go for a walk #again #things to do #christmas #video #fields #street view #view #point of view

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capricornus-rex · 4 years

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A Legacy Begun (2)

Chapter 2: The Wedding | Cal Kestis x Reader

Summary: After a long time of running and fighting, you and Cal decided to finally settle down after all these years to raise a family. However, it was never a life of peace whilst the shadow of the Empire looms over your heads.

Prompted by Anon: Hiya! Still taking any requests? If so, can you write something about Cal and JediReader finally settle down and have a kid or something.

A/N: Alexa play A Thousand Years by Christina Perri & Steve Kazee ;;;///w///;;;

Also posted in AO3

Additional prompt: My fic idea

Tags: Scruffy! Cal Kestis, Daddy! Cal Kestis, Adult! Cal Kestis, Jedi Family, Jedi Offspring, Force-Sensitive Offspring, Settling Down, Rebel Alliance

Previous: Part 1 | Next: Part 3 | Masterlist

2 of ?

Two days before the big day, Merrin woke up early—perhaps the earliest you’ve seen her up—and she told you to wash up and get dressed. She dragged you along to the town that sat on the valley, a trek away from where the Mantis sat in a forest clearing.

It is clear that she was excited for you and Cal, and wanted to be of help to you in time for your celebration.

“Have you ever attended a wedding, Merrin?”

“I can’t say I have, but that’s what makes me excited—I get to see one for the first time, and it’s yours, no less!”

Her enthusiasm was new to you, normally, when she’s curious about something—beyond the knowledge that she has from living in Dathomir—she would only inquire, question after question until her mind has been sated. But this display of hers was unique—there was a child-like glee in her as she tugged your hand in hers, leading you into the town with the objective of the perfect dress.

“Don’t the Nightsisters and Nightbrothers in Dathomir have a sort of union?”

“We’re not a celebratory kind, [y/n]. Once a Nightsister finds her mate in the Nightbrother village, that is that, apparently,”

“I see,”

The city, known as Reema, was a sizable settlement whose business districts and residential areas mingled together—as well as the peoples that resided there. It was a town abundant in textiles, exotic foods, as well as a sturdy, construction material whose raw state originates from a bluish-green mineral called Zakora found in the planet’s oceans and deeper reefs—giving the citizens’ homes a decorative, mosaic-like effect.

You made it clear that you want everything to be simple yet perfect. Merrin already understood that you were not one for grandeur. There was one street in the business district that had a whole row of stores that sold fabrics and pre-made clothes. Some of the shops had a dress or two displayed behind their glass window; but you two girls skipped most of them since they didn’t fit your taste or they priced the clothes unreasonably… or both.

“I think we’ve swept the entire street in search of your dress, [y/n],”

“It’s okay, there’s no need to rush. We can take a break if you like, Merrin,”

“Of course,” the Nightsister’s eyes trailed over your shoulder. “There’s some shade over there.”

“Perfect! Come on,” you take her hand and bring her along to the bench underneath a tree.

After taking a breather, you and Merrin agreed to have one last sweep before heading home. Hopefully by then, you would have found what to wear before heading back to the Mantis. The two girls walked together through the street, passing by the same shops but stopping to look at the ones you’ve skipped.

Merrin gave a slight tug of your hand when she stopped to see a dress hop that stood out from the rest.

“This looks promising,” the Nightsister commented.

“Come on, no harm in trying,” you added.

Perhaps, it might be the smallest atelier you’ve seen in this street. The person who greeted you was a young woman, you’re under the impression that she was an apprentice seamstress, but upon examining the studio, you realize that she worked alone.

She was startled by the sound of her door chimes ringing upon your entrance, she fumbled about on her work desk and she stomped through piles of fabric that pelted the floor.

“H-Hello,” she stammered shyly, embarrassed by the mess. It seemed that she wasn’t expecting any visitors.

“Hi there,” you warmly greeted.

Merrin looked around the place, “Do you work alone?”

“Yes, m-my name is Milana,”

“Hello, Milana, is it alright with you if we take a look around your shop?”

“Please, by all means, miss,”

You flashed a friendly smile as you thanked her, she managed to repay the gesture and awkwardly leaned against the edge of her worktable. She constantly fiddled with a strip of cut fabric, anxiously watching these two ladies who just entered her shop. The young girl’s head was racked with questions that she answered herself in her mind.

“For what occasion, may I ask?”

“A wedding,” Merrin answered, then bobbed her head to you. “For her.”

The young lady’s eyes lit up, suddenly enthused, and she tried to break out of her awkward demeanor.

“Oh! I have a section specifically for that,” she chirped. “Please, follow me here.”

Her studio had another room, neater and less cluttered than the main space, two racks hugged the walls and another work desk sat by the window of the room—but a dress on the works occupied the table instead of drawings and sketches. She helped you out in deciding the designs by asking you what kind of style you wanted.

“Just something simple, Milana, please. I don’t want to go through puffy skirts and wide sleeves anymore!” you joked.

The young designer had an array of dresses that nearly fitted your taste—pertaining to your preference of straight skirts, slim sleeves, and minimalist designs.

Eventually, after scouring every dress she has out in the racks, Milana spotted you pulling out a particular white dress—its transparent neckline gave the illusion that white leaves, sown and expertly shaped with beads, crawled up to a lady’s bosom, though it lacked sleeves; and the skirt is made out of billowy tulle. You instantly fell in love with it.

“May I?” you smiled.

“Oh, of course, miss!”

Merrin helped you in fastening the back of the dress, minutes later, you come out of the fitting room—which was only a nook covered by drapes—and the two girls gasped upon your appearance. You walked up to the front of the mirror, turning around to get a look of yourself in different angles, you even attempted to do a little twirl so the skirt flared.

“Aww [y/n],” Merrin fawned.

“This is it!” you giggled.

“It’s perfect, Miss [y/n]! Simply immaculate!”

When you announced in the studio room that you’re taking it, the young designer ran towards a closet that sat beside the mirror. She pulled out one of the drawers and produced a small box.

“Originally, when I made that dress, it had to go with this,” she flipped the lid open, revealing a silver headpiece. The designer explains that it should be worn on the back of the head and no particular hairstyle is required for it to be securely worn on the bride’s hair.

While Milana explained, Merrin already knew what to do with your hair on the wedding day. Milana also provided a selection of shoes for you, admitting that you were used to boots for most of your life, you decided to play it safe and chose the cream-colored heels that were only two inches high.

You couldn’t thank the young designer enough, you insisted paying a little extra for her help and she had no other choice but to accept—although she did it with great gratitude and bade well wishes to you for your wedding.

—–

Today’s the day.

You wake up with a rapid heartbeat and clammy palms.

The wedding happens in the afternoon, Cal had found the perfect spot where the ceremony will be held. It was customary that bride and groom don’t meet on the day itself, thus, both of you slept in separate rooms—you slept in the same bunker as Merrin and Cere last night while Cal remained in the original quarters.

For the rest of the day, Merrin and Cere delivered food and drink to you and would allow you to go around the ship—granted that Cal was absent in the Mantis—and this went on until three hours prior to the ceremony.

“How are you feeling, [y/n]?” Cere asked, placing her hand on your shoulder.

“Nervous,” you awkwardly chuckled.

Cal had already got himself cleaned, his red hair slicked back while his growing stubble remained undisturbed, and donned his crisp black ensemble piece by piece: starting off with a long-sleeved tunic over a short, black leather vest, and finishing it off with black pants and boots.

“How do I look, BD?”

“Beee! Trill, chirp!”

“Yeah? Thanks, buddy,” he chuckled. “Well, here goes.”

He marched out of his quarters, passing by the bathroom door and heard the water running, he heard you humming and giggling in between the song. He smiled to himself and imagined what you’d look like when you come marching towards him.

You finished washing yourself, returned to the shared room and Merrin delivered your entire outfit. The Nightsister assisted you once again in fitting the dress, only now did you realize that the dressed emphasized your curves, you put the shoes on while seated and she began working on your hair. Merrin’s slender fingers created an elaborate braid that crowned the back of your head, she secretly used a little bit of her magick to make sultry waves on the remaining length of your hair, and for the finishing touch, the crown of silver leaves nestled above the braid. You also splurged on some makeup for this day: you drew winged lines on your eyelids, painted your lips to a soft pink, and brushed your cheeks with powder and blush.

“There, you’re ready,” Cere cooed, examining you from head to toe and resting her fingers underneath your chin.

Merrin stood by Cere’s side to take a look at you as well, she smiled, triumphant and proud of her masterpiece on the bride.

“You’re so beautiful, [y/n], the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen,” the Nightsister fawned.

"Thank you so much," you squeaked, grateful of the help you've received from the two ladies.

“We’ll see you there, okay?”

“Okay, Cere,” you breathed.

They embraced you and kissed your cheek one by one before leaving the room. Five minutes later, you finally walk out of the ship. Your bouquet of flowers rested on the lounge table. The entry ramp was left open and you take the deepest breath you’ve ever taken in your life.

“Here it goes, [y/n],”

You take the first step out of the ship, you were so nervous at the moment that you could feel your footing unstable—even though you practiced walking on the ramp with the shoes on for a whole day—but you managed to get to flat ground. You were surprised to find one of the male partisans back in Kashyyyk. It was a surprise to be sure, but a welcome one. He was to deliver you to the aisle, to your husband-to-be.

“Cere said it was a surprise,” the partisan added.

You gripped your bouquet and continued your march with the partisan guiding you, following the path showered with flower petals of all colors.

Cal stood by the lake, awaiting for your entrance; Merrin, BD-1, Greez, and the rest of the witnesses stood at the side of the path waiting for you as well. When a splash of white caught Cal’s eye, and you appeared in the arch that the trees formed, he almost stopped breathing. His heart leapt at the sight of you—dressed like a demure goddess, the length of your hair spilled over your shoulders, and your face naturally glowed with the sunset as you smiled while walking the aisle.

“Wow…” he gasped.

Cal found you more beautiful than the sunset behind him. Your eyes spanned across the lake’s clearing and found some familiar faces like Mari Kosan and a few partisans you’ve personally befriended. In the gradually shrinking distance, you and Cal traded shy smiles. It felt like your legs were moving on their own, but you didn’t resist them. You knew that you were walking into a newfound life to share with the man you love.

His tears instantly welled up and he had little to no time to fight them back, and then his heart pounded faster and faster for every step you took. You finally stood a mere inch away from him. He bit his lip as he smiled, you caressed his cheek and then a single teardrop escaped his eye.

“Darling…” you whispered, running your thumb across his cheek to wipe away the tear.

He offered you his arm and you linked it with yours. The both of you turned to face Cere who presided the ceremony.

“Here I stand before two individuals, whose bond was forged, grown, and then strengthened by time and by the Force. They have willed to nurture that bond through this ceremony of marriage and for the times to come,”

Cal couldn’t help but steal a glance at you, the gesture was returned when you turned to smile back at him as Cere stated her opening remarks.

“May the words of their vows express their unbreakable connection that run as deep as the Force itself.” She cued.

The bride and groom faced each other.

Cal reached for your hand and you willingly took it as he recited his vows.

“Lo, behold my Maiden, for she will cast away my fears that reside in the Dark. She is my torch that will lead me away from the shadows of doubt, to whom I will forever hold on to. To you, [y/n], my beloved wife, I commend my heart, life, and soul—all this as the Force wills it.”

Next, you reached for his free hand to which he gladly took as you said your vows.

“Lo, behold my Knight, for he will combat the haunts of the Dark. My shield to conceal me from the evils, to whom I will always find shelter in thy arms. To you, Cal, my husband, I commend my life, heart, and my soul—all this as the Force wills it.”

Finally, Cere took a step back and ignited what used to be Trilla’s lightsaber—instead of a bright red beam, a blade as white as bleach emerged from the hilt—and she instructed both of you to kneel.

“By the will of the Force, I dub thee, [y/n] Kestis—wife of Cal Kestis.” She hovered the saber above your shoulders and then concluded her dubbing by hovering the blade over your head.

She then repeats the gesture when it was Cal’s turn, “By the will of the Force, I dub thee, Cal Kestis—husband of [y/n] Kestis. All this as the Force wills it, and so shall it be for your joined days until the end.”

After her oration, you and your husband stood up.

“You may kiss the bride.” Cere declared.

Cal cupped your cheeks, pulled you in for the sweetest, most tender kiss of your life, his stubble tickled your face but you didn’t care; you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your lips against him as you smiled in between kisses, and applause and cheers filled the forest. When he pulled away, your new husband snuck another kiss on the tip of your nose, warranting a tiny chuckle from you.

“I love you,” he whispered to you.

“I love you too,”

The wedding was immediately followed by a banquet celebration courtesy of Greez. The Lateron really cooked up a storm when he served the slow-cooked Nerf roast to the table, a Jogan berry cheesecake, and Phillak steaks. Pouring two glasses of wine, the newlyweds linked arms with glasses in their hands.

“Bottoms up!” you and Cal said in unison as you drank the wine from each other’s glasses, chugging down the slightly strong liquor and fighting off the bitter taste.

Your guests laughed and applauded once both of you finished your wine. Evening had washed over Cerinda, the moonlight’s reflection rippled in the lake and fireflies dotted the space like starlight while you and Cal perform your first dance as husband and wife.

“To the newlyweds!” Mari Kosan proposed a toast, raising her glass and everyone followed suit.

They lightly tapped their glasses, urging the two of you to kiss, Cal was the first to cave in. When he spun you in his hand, he pulled you in closer to him so that his lips meet yours once more. Applause filled your ears once again, both of you could feel each other smiling in the middle of the kiss.

Your fingers raked his hair and then your hand trailed to his jaw, the prickly hairs of his stubble brushed roughly against your nails.

“This is the best day of my life,” Cal cooed.

“Here’s to forever?”

“Forever and ever, my wife, until the galaxy ends.”

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kriscme · 3 years

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One Life to Live

Hi, so now we come to the end. The final two chapters. Thanks to everyone who’s been following this story. It can be read on AO3 too. My name is Kris22 there. As always, thanks to Ronja for allowing me to write fanfic of her Hunger Games fanfic “The Chance You Didn’t Take” available on AO3 and Fanfiction. And thanks to Loueze for her encouragement and support. Chapter 37 By the time the television crew was due to arrive, Peeta and I were as convincingly in love as two people could possibly be. Of course, it was helped a great deal by the fact that we actually were. Even so, we were hardly looking forward to our private lives becoming public again and cameras following us around as we went about our daily routine. We worried about how intrusive it might be. Cressida had promised it would be tasteful, but the Capitol idea of tasteful can be very different from the districts. I was afraid that it might be like that show I once saw on television about a houseful of people under constant surveillance. They couldn’t even shower in privacy. Would it be like that for Peeta and me? Would they follow us into the bedroom? Expect us to perform? Our one consolation was that we’d be left alone once filming had ended and we vowed to ourselves that we’d do nothing newsworthy for the rest of our lives. The day came. The house had been cleaned and tidied. Everything was where it was supposed to be to reflect a couple who lived together as romantic partners. Buttercup was bathed and freshly groomed. I had the scratches to prove it. Peeta, always considerate, had baked an assortment of breads for the crew, although I told him he shouldn’t bother. At 7 am everything was in readiness. 10 am came and went. And then 11 am. At 2 pm we were still waiting. At 4 pm we wondered if we’d got our dates wrong. It was 6 pm when Haymitch finally got around to telling us. They weren’t coming. At all. The video Remus took had violated victor media protection. I had been filmed without my consent, wasn’t engaged in illegal activity and hadn’t voided my own protection by taking on a public role or seeking publicity. Plutarch knew this but gambled that in our ignorance, we could be coerced into co-operating. And once filming had started, our media protection was automatically revoked, since we had clearly consented to it. It took only one phone call from Haymitch to President Paylor to have it sorted. I suppose it’s of some consolation that Plutarch was severely reprimanded and threatened with dismissal. And that he was also out of pocket for the purchase of the video and pre-production costs. As for Haymitch, I couldn’t decide whether to thank him or kill him. He had certainly saved us from our lives being turned into a media circus for a second time but he’d let us have the worry of it for a whole week. Peeta calmed me down and reminded me that it had brought us together. Haymitch’s defense was that he was sick to death of our crap and wanted an end to it. He thought that a week of living together would get us sort out our differences and he was proven right. I argued that it would have happened anyway, although I had to concede probably not as quickly. With that in mind, I decided to let him live. The year rolls around. Peeta doesn’t move back into his house. It was never discussed; it was simply taken for granted. We keep busy. Peeta still works at the bakery as a specialist cake decorator. He’s a partner now. The sign above the new premises reads “Carter and Mellark Bakery and Patisserie.” I teach at the school and on weekends I hunt. Marcus wrote to ask if I was interested in culling pest species such as wild dog and feral pig. I jumped at it. It seems you can be a hunter and a conservationist. Haymitch works at the council and raises geese, which he does a pretty good job of considering he’s inebriated most of the time. We attend two weddings and one toasting. Arthur and Lace don’t wait long before they tie the knot, or to be more accurate, thread the needle. Predictably, it was the source of much hilarity for Max, who was also invited. At least he refrained from making jokes until after the ceremony. I enjoyed catching up with Sateen and her husband Roy. They have a little boy. They called him Felt. Poor kid. The second wedding was Octavia and Thom’s. Octavia made a beautiful bride with her rich auburn hair and fresh complexion. Venia’s fear that their past as prep team to the Games would jeopardize their position in 12 proved needless. Everyone knew who they were. They’d seen them on television. Flavius’s bright orange hair and Venia’s facial tattoos made them easily recognizable. But people had moved on. They were tired of holding onto resentments – especially for three harmless beauty therapists whose former “victim” still willingly availed herself of their services. The toasting was ours. One day, we just did it. There was no planning, no prior understanding that we’d have one. It was the middle of winter. We were snowed in and confined to the house. Peeta got a roaring fire going and we picnicked in front of it using odds and ends from the pantry. We had some stale bread to use up and toasted it by the fire. He’d hold the toasting fork with a piece of bread to the flames and offer it to me when it was done. The significance of it entered our heads at the very same moment. It was just a look followed by a kiss. Nothing needed to be said. One day we might make it official, but for us we’re more married than any piece of paper or big party could make us. Johanna won the election for District 7 mayor. She’s kept very busy but we talk on the telephone regularly. She’s coming to visit 12 for a few days next month. Doubtless she’ll be as disruptive as ever. But sometimes we can use a little stirring up. That’s what Johanna says anyway. She takes full credit for getting Peeta and me back together and I can’t say she’s entirely wrong. And we had a visit from my mother! I had her possessions shipped to her home in District 4 and it seemed to have jolted something inside her, because soon after she was making plans to travel here. It was a short visit. She was nervous about coming here, of the memories it could evoke. But aside from the Village, there’s nothing left of the old Twelve. The debris from the bombs has long since been cleared away, new buildings have replaced the old, and the grass grows long and thick over the meadow. We had a long talk about her reasons for not joining me in Twelve after I’d been released from the Capitol. She feared being pulled down into a depression along with me. I understood. When you’re in the grip of it, you can see no way out. My mother, having recovered once, was deathly afraid that she wouldn’t recover a second time. And since misery feeds on misery, she would likely have only made mine worse. Peeta is somewhere in the house repairing the painting of the primrose he did for me. I don’t visit Prim in her room anymore except for that one time I when I wanted to tell her about my toasting with Peeta. She wasn’t there. She hasn’t been for a long time. It was then I realized that Prim doesn’t reside in any particular place. She’s with me every time I think of her. I took down the primrose painting from the top of the dresser. It belongs somewhere where I will see it every day. I had an idea for a book, similar to my family’s plant book. It’s to preserve the happy memories of the people we’ve lost. Lady licking Prim’s cheek, what Cinna could do with a length of silk. In my best handwriting, I carefully record all the details it would be a crime to forget and accompany it with a photo if we have one, or a sketch or painting by Peeta. There are photos of Finnick strewn across the dining table as I try to make my mind up on which one to use - a publicity shot that shows off Finnick’s sea-green eyes or a photo taken of himself and Annie at their wedding. “Katniss, I was looking for some kind of adhesive tape to fix the painting and I found this letter in one of the drawers in the study. It was addressed to me, so I opened it.” I look up, wondering what Peeta’s talking about. He holds the painting in one hand and a sheet of paper in the other. He leans the painting up against a wall and then pulls out one of the dining room chairs to sit across from me. He lays the letter down in front of him. I immediately recognize the handwriting on it as my own. It’s the first letter I wrote to him after the mayor’s party before I thought better of it and wrote a second. But not before putting it in an envelope and stuffing it in a drawer. I’d forgotten all about it. I try to snatch the letter away but he swiftly puts it out of my reach. “Dear Peeta,” he reads. “I’m writing to you because – ““You don’t have to read it. I know what’s in it,” I say. “Give it back.” I make another grab for it but he’s too fast. “. . . because I’m sure to get it wrong, or miss something important if I do this face to face.” He stops reading and hands me the letter. I take it from him, refold it, and slip it beneath the memory book, hoping against hope, that this will prevent any more mention of it. “Did you really want to break off all contact with me?” he asks, frowning. “I didn’t think it ever got that bad. When? Why?” I sigh. Why didn’t I throw the damn letter out? “It was after the mayor’s party. I was very upset when I wrote it. And then I had second thoughts and wrote you another. That’s the one I slipped under your door. I’d forgotten about this one.” He gives his head a shake. “I don’t understand. Nothing happened that night. Not between us, anyway. Did someone say something? Was it Max?” His lips thin in anger. “That – “ “No,” I say quickly. “It was nothing Max did.” I let out a breath, and plough forward. “It was something you did. You and Lace. It was when you sneaked off to have sex.” There’s a moment of stunned silence. “What?” “You know what I mean. I saw it all. Well, not all, but I did see the two of disappear through those swinging double doors only the staff used. And when you came back, Lace’s hair was all mussed. And if you didn’t have sex exactly, it was something close. That was really tacky, Peeta. Civilized people have more decorum than to do that. Civilized people wait until they get home. Civilized people – “ “Katniss, we didn’t sneak off for sex. Cass invited me to see the kitchens once the dessert course was over. That’s where we went.” Oh. I guess that’s a reasonable explanation. But that dream had been so vivid. “Then why was Lace’s hair messed up?” “Was it? I don’t know. I don’t remember anything different about her. We went to see the kitchen, Cass showed us around, and then we came out. Nothing else happened.” “But it was sticking out,” I insist. I know what I saw. The scene plays again in my head. I was at the bar with Haymitch and Max, sampling shots of whisky and getting drunker and more agitated by the minute. Agonizing over what they could be doing. Kissing, fondling each other, maybe even fucking. “And then you didn’t even look to see if I was still there when you came back,” I add in a small pitiful voice. It sounds so pathetic, saying it aloud. It’s a trivial reason for cutting someone out of your life. Just because they didn’t look for you when they came into a room. But after everything, that’s what tipped it over for me. What finally made me give up hope and decide to end it. He reaches across the table to take one of my hands. “Katniss, look at me.” I turn my face away, and he gives my hand a tug. I reluctantly meet his gaze. His eyes look earnestly into mine. “I can’t explain the hair, okay? But I can tell you what I do remember about that night.” He pauses, as if waiting for my approval before he proceeds. I shrug. “Go ahead.” He closes his eyes for a few seconds. “You, looking so beautiful in your Cinna dress. And me, assailed by memories of other entrances and other gowns. Being dragged around by Lace from one boring conversation to another, unable to resist looking around to see what you were doing. And Max, who didn’t leave your side for a minute unless it was to get you another drink. I was jealous of him without knowing why but attributed it to a fear of losing your friendship.” He pauses and adds, “At the time, you didn’t seem very happy with me.”I feel a twinge of remorse. He’s right. I was often moody and distant with him. The tape viewings weren’t going as I wanted and I’d recently learned of a pattern book he was making for Lace, similar to my family’s plant book. “You seemed to be having such a good time together, at dinner and on the dance floor. So, when we came back into the ballroom, I just didn’t want to be reminded of it. I kept my head down and headed for the nearest group of people. And then I did my best not to think about you. I’m sorry. I hurt you and used Lace to hide from my feelings. But that’s the truth, awful as it is.” But not nearly as awful as what I’d convinced myself of. I don’t know what to say. I feel so foolish. So much anger and pain for something that existed only in my imagination. And I’d also assumed that Peeta’s willingness to help me with the Marcus thing was due, in some part, to either empathy or guilt for having being in a similar situation himself. “No, I’m the awful one for jumping to conclusions. I thought the worst. You’d never be so crass as to do something like that. I owe you an apology. I should never – “ “You don’t owe me anything,” he says, interrupting me before I can go further. “In fact, the opposite is true. You wouldn’t have thought it if I hadn’t given you reason to.” He reaches across for the memory book and flips through the pages we’ve done so far. My father. Peeta’s father. Boggs. It stops on Rue. Peeta has drawn her poised on her toes, arms slightly extended, like a bird about to take flight. There’s a reason why I asked him to portray her like this. It’s how I want to remember her. You can’t change the past, but you can bring the best of it into the future. “Let’s make a deal. Only good memories for us from now on. Like this book you’re working on.” He walks over to where I’m sitting to pull me out of my chair. “Now come show me where you want this painting hung.” I take him into the living room. It’s the room we use most and where I’ll see it every day. As I decide where to place it exactly, Peeta comes to stand at my back to hug me from behind. I lean back against his broad chest and luxuriate in the strong arms that encircle me. My dandelion in the spring. The lullaby that Prim liked as a baby comes to mind. Here it’s safe, here it’s warmHere the daisies guard you from every harmHere your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them trueHere is the place where I love you. “I was thinking over the mantle? Or maybe on the far wall . . .” ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 38 Lace’s story: what happened on the night of the mayor’s party. It wasn’t fair! This was supposed to have been her night. She had been looking forward to it for weeks ever since Peeta casually mentioned it on one of their date nights. The mayor’s inauguration party was to be the biggest social event in District 12 in living memory. All the important and influential people in the district would be there. For ambitious Lace, it was invaluable in terms of creating contacts and securing the kind of clientele that could afford to buy her evening wear, a design niche she wanted to develop. Besides, she dearly loved a party and she hadn’t been to one in ages. The last one had been the district party where she had met Peeta for the first time. He didn’t remember it though. That was fortunate since she had come to District 12 for a new life and a new identity and didn’t want her past in District 8 compromising it in any way. Since she was to be her best advertisement, she put a great deal of thought and effort into her gown. She hadn’t much money saved but she splurged the lot on pale yellow satin and then spent many hours making it up. The final touch was a trip to the salon to have her hair colored and styled. It was an extravagance, keeping up the hair color. But she loved it and it formed something of a disguise as it was subtly different from the typical ash brown of the natives of her home district. As she entered the ballroom, Lace felt she was at the beginning of an exciting new phase. After a slow start, her business had gained momentum and she was making a steady income. A few family members had also made the move to 12 which added to her sense of security. But best of all, was the man on whose arm she clung. How did she get so lucky? Peeta Mellark! Her teenage crush. The romantic heartthrob whose posters had adorned her bedroom wall. The boy she had married in her dreams every night. What a fortuitus twist of fate it had been that day when he came into her shop to have a coat made. A flirtation had led to a date at a restaurant and then another, until she could now, without exaggeration, call him her boyfriend! True, he wasn’t quite what she had expected. He seemed a bit aimless, and he liked activities she had outgrown, like hanging out at the ice-cream parlor and the swimming pool, but he was Peeta Mellark! And he really was so sweet and considerate with his little romantic gestures and compliments to her beauty. He told her she was a wonder. And the more she kissed and flattered and stroked, the more wonderful she became. It was a mutual admiration society that she was more than happy to live in. The one blot on her happiness was Katniss Everdeen. Lace had mixed feelings about meeting her. Katniss was intimidating. Her reputation as romantic heroine, fearless symbol of the Rebellion, skillful warrior and (privately thought by most of the populace) savior from another Snow, preceded her. But most intimidating of all was her relationship with Peeta. He talked about her all the time. Not in a romantic sense, it was true, but it was clear she occupied a great deal of his thoughts. The Games had been mandatory viewing and Lace, like everyone in Panem, had watched Peeta gaze at Katniss with love in his eyes. But Peeta had an explanation for that. It had been an illusion. He thought he had been in love with her, but it turned out that he was in love with his idea of her, rather than who she really is. But now he thought of her as very good friend with whom he shared an unbreakable bond. As for Katniss, well, she had never loved him. It had all been an act on her part. That should have been reassuring. And it was. Sort of. But Peeta had lost many of his memories and what was left was distorted, so how could he be certain? But what gave her most pause wasn’t Peeta. It was Katniss. It was clear at the first meeting that Katniss didn’t like her. Katniss wasn’t rude, but she was cool, even giving her the once over when they were first introduced. And when Lace and Peeta discussed a housewarming gift from the two of them for Lace’s brother, a shadow passed over Katniss’s face. It was subtle but unmistakable. Katniss wasn’t as disinterested in Peeta as Peeta made out. That’s why Lace gatecrashed the tape viewings. If there was anything going on, she wanted to know about it. She didn’t trust Katniss one inch. Unfortunately, the second of the tapes triggered the memory of a traumatic incident for Lace and she reacted hysterically. Peeta asked her not to attend anymore and she had no choice but to do as he said. However, despite Peeta watching video tape of hugs and kisses and romantic slow dancing at Capitol parties, nothing changed between herself and Peeta. If Peeta had ever loved Katniss, it appeared that he no longer did. Even Leevy’s revelations in the salon that day didn’t worry her for long. So what if the star-crossed lovers had been real? It still aligned with Peeta’s version. What had happened in the Games and during the tours was before Peeta had realized his true feelings for Katniss. And she’d already guessed that Katniss was in love with him. The party was everything Lace had dreamed of. So elegant. The women in evening gowns, the men in dinner suits. Waiters with silver trays laden with flutes of sparkling champagne. The tables resplendent with starched white tablecloths and napkins and gleaming cutlery. She turned to Peeta to kiss his cheek. “Thank you so much for bringing me,” she said. “You really are the best boyfriend.” He brushed her lips with his and gave her a fond smile. “Only because I have the best girlfriend,” he replied. She beamed and squeezed his arm. She could hardly recall a happier moment. And then Katniss Everdeen arrived. Lace’s practiced eye immediately recognized her gown as haute couture. Cinna, probably. Deep blue, the bodice studded thickly with diamonds – were they real? – with a strapless sweetheart neckline and more diamonds scattered on the skirt. It dazzled and Katniss dazzled with it. Luxuriant dark hair cascading down her back in loose curls. Smooth olive skin, fine features and those surprising eyes. Silvery gray, the colour of storm clouds. She had a man for each arm. The school teacher Max Matson, who all the girls agreed was very good looking if you could get past his personality, and – it couldn’t be – Arthur! Lace’s friend who adored her since they were children together. She knew he was coming tonight but not with her! She felt the arm beneath her fingers stiffen and her glance swiftly turned to his face. Peeta appeared stunned, his mouth gaping slightly. There was admiration, certainly, but also something darker and more sinister. Recognition. A memory, perhaps several, had resurfaced. Lace’s happiness dimmed as if a cloud had passed across the sun. But she rallied, pulling Peeta quickly along to greet the new mayor and his wife who were momentarily on their own. Lace was in her element. She was a natural networker. She loved to interact with people and was always searching for opportunities. Peeta seemed a little distracted though. Looking around, not quite keeping up with the conversation. She followed his gaze, and it led directly to Katniss Everdeen, who, no surprise, was looking directly at him. They both looked quickly away, but that was of no comfort. It was clear that they were on each other’s mind. Meanwhile, she was pleased to observe, Arthur had detached himself from Katniss and was busy working the room too. Now there was a man with get-up-and-go. He didn’t let his natural reserve get in the way of achieving his ambitions. Lace waved him over and he changed direction to come to her side. Soon they were talking business, a fascinating subject for them both. She didn’t notice how restless Peeta was during the exchange. Dinner was announced and everyone made their way to their allocated seats. Unfortunately, theirs was a dull table and not even Lace’s pearly laugh could liven it up. A burst of laughter from nearby grabbed her attention. Arthur and Haymitch seemed to be at the center of it. It caught Peeta’s attention too. He seemed envious, it appeared to Lace. But whether it was over the entertaining company or because Katniss was seated there too, she couldn’t tell. After the food had been served, people resumed their mingling, moving from table to table. Peeta wanted to talk to Katniss. Ordinarily, Lace wouldn’t feel particularly threatened by this. Over the preceding weeks, Peeta had confided to her that Katniss seemed uninterested in spending time with him unless it was watching the tapes. And even then, she often seemed angry with him. Lace immediately guessed the situation. Katniss had grown frustrated with Peeta. He hadn’t responded as she’d hoped and she was distancing herself as a form of self-protection. As long as this status quo was maintained, Lace felt safe. But after tonight, she wasn’t sure of anything. Lace demurred. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea. Katniss appeared occupied and hadn’t he told her that she didn’t seem keen on his company lately? It was best to leave her alone. But Peeta said that they should, that it would look odd if they didn’t. So, when Max headed off in the direction of the bar, leaving Katniss on her own, Lace reluctantly let Peeta lead her to where Katniss sat. It was an awkward conversation. Lace embarrassed herself with her ignorance on what it meant to be a victor at the district parties and having to face the families of the dead tributes. Worse, she let it slip that she had been to a district party. Her story was that she’d been a factory worker in 8. Factory workers weren’t allowed to attend district parties. Fortunately, Peeta didn’t pick up on it, but Katniss appeared to sense that something was amiss. There was an awkward pause. Peeta broke the silence. “Are you going to let me talk to Katniss?” he said to Lace, pretending to be annoyed. She had intended to stay at Peeta’s side, but perhaps it would be better to leave before she dug herself a deeper hole. “Okay, okay,” she said, in mock surrender. “I know when I’m not wanted. I need to go to the ladies’ room anyway. Just stay out of trouble and don’t bug Katniss.” There, that would show Katniss who’s really in charge and hopefully plant a seed that Peeta wasn’t exactly happy in her company either. She stroked his hand and kissed his cheek, enjoying her Svengali-like effect, knowing that his eyes would follow her as she walked away. She went to the ladies’ room as she said she would and did the usual things women do there. She wanted to get the timing right and was gratified to see Peeta waiting for her at their table when she returned. The dancing started up soon after and Lace pulled Peeta to his feet. She loved to dance. Peeta didn’t. His prosthetic leg made it a chore rather than a pleasure and he had faint memories of dancing at Capitol parties. But he wanted to be a good boyfriend, so up he got, and shuffled dutifully around the dancefloor with her. But then Katniss and Max came into view. Max had Katniss pulled tightly against him and he swung her around in a series of fancy turns, almost lifting her off her feet. They were making fools of themselves, thought Lace. That’s no way to behave at a formal event. So undignified! So tasteless! She turned to Peeta, expecting him to be as unimpressed as she, but his face was hard, giving away nothing. Suddenly, he put his head close to hers and whispered words in her ear. She nodded and followed him through the double swinging doors the staff used to bring food from the kitchen. It had been pre-arranged. Peeta had told her about it. Cass from the bakery was to show Peeta around the kitchens. He had never seen a commercial kitchen before. While he marveled at the long row of ovens, the walk-in freezer, the huge storage room, Lace could barely stifle her yawns. So boring, and it was fricking cold in there after the warmth of the ballroom. But she stuck a smile on her face and did her best to appear interested but she was hardly in the mood to hear about the merits of blast chillers when her heart was breaking. Somehow, she had to widen the gulf between Katniss and Peeta. She had to ensure that any fledgling signs of a possible reunion between them was snuffed out before it could begin. And then she had an idea. Just as they were about to re-enter the ballroom, Lace ruffled her carefully styled hair and swiped the back of her hand across her mouth to wipe away some of the lipstick, smearing it a little. Let Katniss believe that she and Peeta had snuck away for some canoodling in a dark corner. Isn’t that what Peeta and Katniss did as star-crossed lovers? Sneaking off to be alone when they were at fancy events? It was in a fan magazine she’d read, anyway. With a bit of luck, Katniss’s mind would go straight there. She scanned the room and saw Katniss by the bar with Max and Haymitch. The hour was growing late and the crowd had thinned but there was a group of merry young people standing around nearby. She started to lead Peeta in their direction, but he seemed to have the same idea and led her. And when his arm went around her waist and he pressed a fond kiss to the crown of her head, relief flooded through her. Everything was as it should be. She turned in his arms slightly to look over his shoulder and managed to catch a glimpse of Katniss’s stricken but resolute face, just before her hasty exit with a startled Max close behind her. Satisfied, she leaned her head against Peeta’s shoulder and he squeezed her waist. She had worried over nothing. It was inevitable that as Peeta regained his memories they’d be focused on Katniss. They were, after all, the memories that Snow had meddled with. It didn’t mean that Peeta was wrong when he said his feelings for her had been an illusion. The real proof of who he loved was in who he chose to be with. And that was her, Lace Bomul from District 8.

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fewrites · 5 years

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Congrats on your sisters wedding!! :D And with that being said you just gave me an idea: do you have any wedding headcanons for Ashe, Caspar, Claude, and their bride/groom? X3

Hey there, thank you so much! It was a really lovely day for all of us involved! ♡

I find that writing Claude is still a bit difficult, so I hope that his wedding headcanons aren’t too far off! I had so much fun writing these.♡ Caspar’s and Claude’s headcanons are under the cut due to length ~

Wedding Headcanons with Ashe

By the time you two were to be wed, Ashe had established himself as a reliable knight, with a loving significant other that supported him every step of the way.

You’ve been living together for years prior, and at that point, you two already felt like you were married. Waking up with each other, falling asleep in each others arms a majority of your days easily creates this illusion.

There may not be a ring on your finger yet, but you are not bothered by this. You knew that Ashe loved you all the same.

So when he proposed to you one evening - the night of your birthday, in fact - your heart threatened to burst out of your chest. There were no tears to be spilled, but you lacked the words to describe your happiness and excitement for a few minutes, only managing a few chopped words and nods.

Ashe himself had lost some sleep over the previous days, his nerves getting the best of him. But when it came to the actual proposal, he mustered all of his braveness and spoke those four words: “Will you marry me?”

Later, Ashe told you he had been planning to propose to you for a few years already, but wanted to wait until the political situation was more stable and until he could support the two of you financially.

You told him you would’ve had accepted the proposal even back then, and, although he averted his eyes, you managed to see him tearing up ever so slightly.

The ceremony itself is nothing grand nor fancy - it’s rather simple. Your family and a few of your closest friends were present, among them, some of his Blue Lions friends from his years at the academy.

Even King Dimitri made an appearance, though rather brief… and in secret. He couldn’t stay long, but wished both of you all the best in your marriage.

After the ceremony, and after the celebratory feast, you went back to your home. Ashe carried you over the doorstep, as he read about this tradition in some of the tales he so loved to read.

Truth be told, he did not want to let you go - and luckily, he didn’t have to. At least not for long.

Wedding Headcanons with Caspar

Caspar, being oblivious as always, hadn’t thought about marriage even once. Not because he didn’t love you (because he did, and oh so much!), but because he couldn’t fathom a possibility for the two of you to become even closer.

After all, you’ve been together for forever. He was content with the way it was, and you never seemed upset about it either.

And you never were upset about it.

You loved to travel the country with him, even occasionally crossing the borders. Your adventures filled all of your days with fun and excitement.

There was never a boring day with him, and you loved that about him.

Eventually, though, you noticed that everyone had settled down, gotten married and, in some cases, even started a family. And there you were, still carefree as ever.

Something about that struck you weird, and you brought it up to Caspar.

“What do you mean, y/n? I thought you loved our travels?” His confusion was written upon his face.

“I do! I love all of our adventures, and I love you. But I wonder… Is it not time for us to settle down and get married?”

“Oh!” That’s all he said for a while. It made you wonder if you shouldn’t have brought it up in the first place; you were happy after all! As long as you could spend the rest of your days with him, you didn’t care about whether you’re married or not.

“Well, if you wanna get married, let’s get married! There’s a small chapel in the next village over - I bet if we’ll go there, we could get married tomorrow.” Hearing those words, you thought he was joking!

But only one look at his face revealed that he was serious, a big grin on his face as he looked at you.

And sure enough, you travelled to the next village and stopped by the chapel, asking whether it would be possible to hold a short ceremony right away.

The priest looked at you, the clothes you wore and questioned if you were certain that you didn’t want to hold a bigger ceremony to invite friends, but you shook your heads. The only thing you needed to look for were two witnesses for each of you, and they were easily found.

Only a few minutes later, you left the chapel: married.

Strangely enough, it didn’t feel any different to before. You were still the same people as the night before, the same people that would get up around noon on some days just to walk a few miles along a river, then setting up camp for the night again. The same people that only stopped by your families once every few months, bringing home gifts from the various places you’ve seen.

In the end, though your bond was now visible through the wedding band on your fingers, nothing else changed.

You didn’t settle down for a few more years, but once you did, you wasted no time starting a family either. Both of you had enough love for a few more members of the family!

Wedding Headcanons with Claude

Being with Claude could, at times, get a little frustrating. You learned more about him, the way he ticked, and were beginning to see what steps he’d take next. And then he still managed to surprise you by doing the exact opposite of what you thought he’d do.

It was something you learned how to deal with.

After all, surprises didn’t have to be a negative thing in a relationship - they helped keep the passion alive!

After the war, you accompanied him back home to Almyra. Though you left behind your family and friends, you promised to stay in touch, and as much as you could, you helped Claude with his goal of opening up the borders.

Soon enough, an alliance with Fódlan was forged, and you went to visit your family for the first time since you left. Claude went with you, though there were a few more stops you had to take during the trip.

You enjoyed the time back at home, but were soon met with a question: ‘When are you two getting married?’

Claude avoided the question with ease, and eventually, you were on your way back to Almyra.

Neither of you talked about it, and soon forgot about the question - or so you thought.

You felt like Claude was preparing something. It didn’t seem like politics were involved, and yet you felt a serious air around him when you spent time with him.

Part of you believed that he was going to propose to you, making preparations for it.

But the other part of you knew that you couldn’t predict Claude. And yet… you really wanted him to propose to you.

This went on for several weeks, even months, before you began growing tired of it.

Though you didn’t mean to, you snapped at him one night. You expected him to take up a defensive stand, but instead, he seemed to be trying his hardest not to laugh.

“What’s so funny? You’ve been acting so strange lately! At first, I thought it was because of what my family said back when we visited them. I thought you were getting ready to propose to me! But clearly, that’s not your intention - so why have you been so weird lately, if not for that reason?”

Your words seemed to please him, as a sly grin played along his lips now.

“Oh, but y/n… That’s exactly what I’ve been doing. I was just wondering if you’d catch on - you took longer to bring it up than I thought.”

The meaning of his words didn’t settle in at first, and you began to complain about him playing with your feelings - but then, oh then! You realised what he just said.

“Wait, you… you ARE proposing?” Your little outburst felt silly now, but you watched as he got down on one knee in front of you and took out a ring.

“I am, y/n. So… Would you do me the honour of becoming my bride?” He placed a kiss on the back of your hand, then looked up at you, awaiting your answer.

“Hm, I wonder…” You trailed off, pretending as if you had to think about your answer. You were going to accept his proposal, and you were aware that he knew this as well - but you wanted to tease him, too, for how long it took him to get there.

“Please, y/n? I’m starting to sweat down here - the wait is killing me.”

“Oh, is it, now?”

#ashe ubert #caspar von bergliez #claude von riegan #fire emblem three houses #ashe ubert headcanons #ashe ubert x reader #caspar von bergliez headcanons #caspar von bergliez x reader #claude von riegan headcanons #claude von riegan x reader #fire emblem three houses imagines #three houses headcanons #fire emblem imagine #fire emblem request #three houses imagines #fe3h #fe3h headcanons #headcanons #request

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ricardotomasz · 3 years

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Such is life! Behold, a new Post published on Greater And Grander about Damavmaske by Vanessa Zelenović

See into my soul, as a new Post has been published on http://greaterandgrander.com/2021/04/damavmaske-by-vanessa-zelenovic/

Damavmaske by Vanessa Zelenović

Sonya expected this trip to be like any other. She would sneak into Poland, transfer the refugees to West Berlin, and then be on her way. She completed this journey many times before with many different people and always ensured they were safe. Not because she cared for them personally, but it was her duty.

"Damavmaske, they are waiting for you," Vitaly called out. That was another thing about Sonya, nobody knew her true identity. She was referred to as "the masked lady" or "Damavmaske." Staying masked was essential, as the Soviet Union would make her "disappear" if they found out who she was.

She dressed completely in black to blend into the night. Her outfit was simple but effective. The tight black shirt and pants accentuated her muscular physique and signaled that she was not one to be reckoned with.

She emerged from the abandoned building they had camped in and walked into the woods without waiting for Vitaly. Despite them working together for many years, he still had no idea who she was. Sonya decided long ago it was not safe to trust anyone.

There was silence as they traveled through the forest. Vitaly communicated to the group that they were to meet deep in the forest, as gathering in the village itself would be too conspicuous.

"There will be one family, two parents and their daughter. There will also be an older woman who is the grandmother of the wife of a newly-wed couple. There's also a single man," Vitaly reported.

Sonya nodded. Research was done by Vitaly before Sonya could accept any new refugees. The village was larger than just those few people; they were just the only ones who proved to be trustworthy.

"Will the older woman and little girl be a problem?" Sonya asked. She had dealt with nationalistic grandparents who refused to leave and rowdy children in the past. It was never pleasant.

Vitaly shook his head. "We've been observing them for a few days now. They should be fine. In fact, the little girl is deaf."

"I see, does everyone know sign language then?"

Vitaly nodded.

"Then this might be a good thing for us."

They continued their walk in silence, ignoring the harsh coldness of the Polish winter. The gray sludge made Sonya miss the heavy snow of Russia, but at least their footprints were not very visible. The tall trees also helped disguise them. Sonya used to fear that the expansiveness of Eastern Europe would reveal her operation but, over time, she found that more space meant less visibility. Eventually, she found solace in dark forests.

At last, she saw them in the middle of the forest. They were dressed in dark clothing as instructed, but she noticed pairs of blue eyes peeking out from the grays and browns. That was when she saw the little girl sitting in a woman's lap. The girl appeared timid and afraid, but those large blue eyes betrayed an innocent and resilient kindness. Sonya could immediately tell that her parents shared the same qualities.

The grandmother had beady black eyes and a face wrinkled with tragedy. A black headscarf wrapped tightly around her head and matched her dress, as if she were attending a funeral. She sat protectively near her granddaughter, who clutched the hand of her sturdy husband.

Beyond the group sat a man by himself, not related to anyone by blood, but by their shared sense of community. He looked more like a rat than a man. His tiny and frail body was hunched over, and his dirty blond hair was combed over to hide his receding hairline. Sonya knew enough men to know that they used horrible humor to compensate for their ugliness and shortness. She hoped he wouldn't be too much trouble.

"Are you Damavmaske?" The bride asked in Polish. Sonya nodded.

"So you're the one who will be saving us?" The groom inquired excitedly. Sonya nodded again.

"Do you speak?" The rat-faced man asked with a grin.

Ignoring him, Sonya turned to the group and said, "We have to leave right now."

Her journey was cut short, however, when the little girl jumped from her mother's lap and ran up to her.

"Can we at least introduce ourselves first?" The little girl signed.

Her mother scurried to the little girl. "Do not bother her, kochanieńka." She turned to Damavmaske with a shy smile and apologized.

Sonya looked into their blue eyes and was able to find some humanity. "It's fine, just be quick."

"I am Julia," The girl signed with a smile and then tugged at her mother's sleeve, "this is my mama, Zofia, and my papa is Bogdan." She pointed her little finger at the old lady, "that's Wisława, and that's Malina and Tomisław." She turned to the rat-faced man and smiled, "that's Aleksander."

Sonya studied them quickly, matching the names to the faces. "Okay, let's go."

"What's your name?" Julia signed, and Zofia hushed her daughter.

Sonya kneeled down and signed, "My name is Damavmaske, that's all you need to know." The group was taken aback by her ability to sign in Polish. They wanted to ask more questions but Sonya was already moving toward West Berlin.

Sonya looked at the entire group and signed, "I will be heading to West Berlin now, follow me." Sonya started walking and, within a few seconds, heard loud footsteps behind her. "Vitaly, ob'yasnyat'."

Vitaly told them to remain as quiet as possible during the trip. As Vitaly addressed the group, Sonya could feel someone walking up to her. It was the rat.

"Go back to the rest of the group."

"Ah, so harsh." Even though she was not looking at him, she could tell he had a big annoying smile on his face. "I didn't expect you to be so tall though. You're almost two meters. I wish I were tall. Hell, I'd be happy to reach 1.8 meters-"

"Stop talking."

He was quiet for a moment then said, "I am not a big fan of talking anyway, I much prefer singing."

"Aleksander, if you begin to-"

" Hej, hej, hej sokoły! Omijajcie góry, lasy, doły." Everyone looked up as Aleksander began singing. Even Sonya was amazed at how soft and beautiful his voice was. "Dzwoń, dzwoń, dzwoń dzwoneczku, mój stepowy skowroneczku."

Bogdan and Tomisław sang along like drunks instead of as sad refugees. "Hej, hej, hej sokoły! Omijajcie góry, lasy, doły. Dzwoń, dzwoń, dzwoń dzwoneczku, mój stepowy. Dzwoń, dzwoń, dzwoń."

Tears formed in Wisława's eyes as the sound of the familiar folk song reminded her she was leaving her beautiful nation, and Malina embraced her. Young Julia, not being able to hear the singing, could still feel the excitement and danced with her mother. Even Vitaly smiled.

Aleksander extended a hand to Sonya and sang, "wiele dziewcząt jest na świecie, lecz najwięcej w Rosjie."

"Enough! Your singing will get us all killed," Sonya snapped. Glaring at Aleksander, she signed, "stay quiet, this is not a game." Sonya turned to the group. They all looked lost and scared. Though she had to remain tough to keep control, she couldn't help but feel a little sympathetic. "I understand that leaving your home country is hard, but I never said this trip would be easy. You will be using fake passports to sneak into East Berlin. You will then hide until nighttime before you illegally cross the Berlin wall. That will require crawling through dark, tight, dirty tunnels. However, I've made this journey many times before. It is difficult but possible. The only question is, are you ready to go?”

Everyone nervously glanced at each other. Bogdan protectively put his arms around Zofia and Julia. The newlyweds hugged Wisława. Only Aleksander remained confident at that moment.

"We have been wanting this for such a long time. No, we cannot stay here any longer," Aleksander turned to the group. "I know you will miss it here, I know I will, but we miss a time that never existed. Over there," he pointed in the direction of West Berlin, "is where we'll have our freedom." He fought to keep his smile despite the gravity of the situation. As Sonya scanned the crowd, she could finally see why. He was smiling at little Julia who, holding her parents' hand, now looked fearless instead of terrified. "Are you all ready?" The group nodded, all of them looking more assured about leaving than when Sonya first came. He turned to Sonya and signed, "we will go."

Everyone turned to her. Their eyes told the story of a group kept down by a repressive government for years, who were now willing to risk anything, even death, for their freedom. She could not fail them.

"Okay then," Sonya signed, looking at all of them, "follow me."

As they got closer to the East German border, Sonya explained the fake story they were to use. They were arriving on a work permit and taking their families with them. East German guards were lazy, so as long as they had passports and sounded believable, they would be let through.

"Vitaly, passports." Sonya said, and Vitaly distributed them. "These are the fake passports,” she continued, “you will use to get into East Berlin. Once you get inside, you will board a train that will take you to Boris. Boris and Vitaly will then take you to a hideout where you will stay until nightfall. When the night comes, I will take you to cross the border. Now, I must go," she stood up. "Good luck and," she looked at Aleksander and said, "try to remain as unsuspicious as possible."

He only smiled in response.

After Sonya left, Vitaly led the group to the East German border.

* * *

As the train doors opened to East Berlin, they revealed Boris standing tall in the middle of the crowd. Vitaly led them to him and, before Julia could ask for introductions, Boris was already moving.

"Follow him," Vitaly signed and went after Boris. The group hurriedly tried to follow his path, holding each other's hands so they wouldn't get lost in the busy train station. Once they broke free from the crowd, they frantically looked around for Boris and Vitaly.

Aleksander saw them turn in to a dark alleyway. "Come!" he signed and ran after Boris and Vitaly. They feared they would lose them as evening drew closer and it got darker. But, with Aleksander as their leader, they were able to keep Boris and Vitaly in sight.

Finally, after fifteen minutes of twists and turns, Boris stopped in front of a manhole and lifted the lid. "Go down." And so they did. As they climbed down, a small room revealed itself. There was a torn-up couch, small wooden table, cramped kitchen, and tiny bathroom.

"You will be staying here until nighttime," Vitaly told them, "help yourself to the food in the fridge, but do try to stay quiet."

As they got accustomed to their surroundings, Malina openly wondered, "I wonder when Damavmaske will return?"

Just then, as if by magic, a hidden door opened, startling everyone. Sonya, not even addressing the room, sat down on the couch and spread out a map of the Berlin wall. "We will be leaving in approximately four hours. Once we get near the border, we will have to wait a few hours for the right moment to cross." She pointed to red marks. "My team dug tunnels that will lead you to a safe place in West Berlin. Once you are on the other side, Vitaly will give you new passports, any questions?"

Everyone shook their head.

"Good. Rest up. Tonight will be long."

While everyone else slept, Sonya sat on the floor, looking over the map, and Aleksander paced the room, trying to act like he was not desperate to talk to her.

Tired of him walking around in agitation, Sonya finally gave in. "Yes, Aleksander?"

"Just excited, that's all." Aleksander sat down near her. "It's great what you do," he said, looking at her and then turned away when, despite not being able to see her face, he blushed. "Everyone here really appreciates it."

"Thank you."

It was silent for a moment then Aleksander continued. "I'm sorry if I made things difficult earlier. I just wanted to provide some levity. It's hard, we love Poland, but we had to leave. It's no longer the country it used to be."

Sonya knew she should focus on her work, but she was curious about Aleksander's comment. "And when did it stop being Poland?"

"When they let the Soviets kill my family."

Sonya looked at him, finally starting to see the contours of who he was. But, before she could fill that image, the clock struck.

"Everybody, wake up!"

Everybody groggily got up and stretched before remembering the situation and becoming more alert. They all turned to Damavmaske.

"It's time."

* * *

As they walked, Sonya instructed them to prepare to crouch and remain silent for a long time. "If you must communicate, use sign language." Once they reached the spot, it suddenly came to them that they would soon be in West Berlin. They would soon have their freedom.

Though squatting and waiting was painful, nobody complained. Even old Wisława remained resolute. Whenever she began to waver, she looked at her beautiful granddaughter and grandson-in-law and told herself to stay strong.

Bogdan, Zofia, and Julia all huddled in one spot. It was a cold night, but staying close together made it warmer.

Then there was Aleksander, who, as he looked at Damavmaske, had new ideas of what West Berlin meant for him.

A loud noise broke everyone's train of thoughts.

The sound was deafening. Deliberately deafening. Everyone turned their wide eyes to Damavmaske.

Sonya put her finger to her mouth, signaling to remain silent.

"Siehst du jemanden?"

"No, I don't see anyone," a distant voice answered. "Hey, du da! I see you!"

Sonya knew that man couldn't see anyone, but they did not know that. Sonya stayed still, not even turning her head to see their reactions, and prayed they remained silent.

Nobody moved a muscle.

"Should we explore over there, Alexei?" The other guard asked.

"No, there's nobody. We need to report back by the border anyway, in case Damavmaske appears."

Sonya listened as their footsteps faded and silence settled again. Even after they were gone for a while, no one dared breathe. Finally, they relaxed a bit and nervously smiled at one another. Looking at them, seeing the courage they displayed, Sonya knew she couldn't fail them.

More hours passed, and everyone remained quiet. The aching and pain and hunger was all the price for freedom. As soon as Sonya heard some rumbling by the border, she decided it was time to address the group one last time.

"Okay," Sonya signed, "Boris will distract the guards inside the wall. Vitaly will distract the guards on the outside. Once they are gone, we will go." She turned to Julia, and signed, "It looks scary, but everything will be alright."

"And what about you?" Julia signed back. It was a question on everybody's mind, especially Aleksander's.

"This is as far as I can go. I will put you all in danger if I go any further. But don't feel sad about me leaving," she said as she wiped a tear from Julia's face, "be happy about your newfound freedom."

"She is right, Julia. It's time for a new beginning," Zofia signed with a smile, even though everybody was sad about Damavmaske leaving.

"Will we see you again?" Julia signed.

Sonya looked at them, all with the same resolute look in their eyes, and signed, "yes."

They waited in anxious tension, desperately waiting for some sign that the border guards would leave. Finally, after another fifteen minutes, the guards dispersed.

"There has been a breach on the other side, everyone must report," one guard told the others.

"Finally, some action!"

Sonya watched carefully as they left their positions. The others were ready to leave, but she stopped them with her hand. She picked up a rock and threw it out into the open. Everyone held their breath in anticipation, but there was just silence.

"I was just making sure there were no snipers. Come, quickly."

At her words, the tension in the air dissipated and their legs took control. Sprinting out in the open, they should have been afraid, but there was no time for that. Urgency rushed through their veins, propelling them forward to their long-awaited liberty.

When they reached the wall, Sonya quickly moved a few fake bushes and tossed aside heavy plates to reveal the tunnel. It would be a tight fit, but it was manageable. Julia and the women went first, then Tomisław and Bogdan. Despite everyone's wariness, the adrenaline made it easy for them to crawl through the tunnels, even old Wisława eagerly made her way through the dirt and worms. Only Aleksander remained.

"Aleksander, it's time to go," Sonya said coldly.

"You know, despite your coldness, I do hope you visit us in West Berlin." He then grew serious, "I am very thankful for all that you have done for us."

Sonya noticed some movement ahead and repeated herself. "Aleksander, it's time to go."

"Maybe I can go with you?" Aleksander asked. "I want to help others too."

The guards were returning.

"Aleksander, it's time to go," she repeated for the final time and shoved him down.

Aleksander fell to his knees and sighed. "Once again, thank you for everything."

He crawled into the hole. His small size allowed him to crawl through it fairly quickly. When it got difficult, he just pictured everybody waiting for him. In his imagination, he also envisioned Damavmaske on the other side. When he got out, he saw everybody covered in dirt and big smiles.

"Did you say goodbye, lover boy?" Tomisław asked with a wink as he pulled Aleksander up. When Aleksander's eyes adjusted to the light, he saw they were in some sort of warehouse.

"Don't feel sad, there will be many pretty German girls for you," Malina said and gave him a hug.

Aleksander smiled at them with tears in his eyes. Everybody had tears in their eyes. They were finally free.

"Okay everyone, follow me for warm showers. Then I will take you to get your fake passports." Vitaly smiled and threw up his hands, "willkommen in West Berlin!"

"Aleksander, you dropped something," Malina gave him a piece of paper with writing on it.

"Hmm," Aleksander examined it. It was a West Berlin address with the initials DvM by it. DvM. Dama v Maske! Aleksander smiled. It seemed like he would be seeing her again after all.

Vanessa Zelenović lives in the rainy city of Seattle, Washington. Her studies in political science and writing at the University of Washington allow her to take grand themes such as freedom, ideology, and nationalism and give them a personal touch. She has presented her research on post-conflict reconciliation in Eastern Europe at the UW Undergraduate Research Symposium and plans to attend graduate school to continue her studies in diplomacy and international relations. In her free time, Vanessa runs her own blog where she posts her short stories, life updates, and opinions on current events and media.

Blog: https://momasownblog.wordpress.com/

Instagram: @iamtherealmoma

LinkedIn: www.linkedin.com/in/vanessa-zelenović

This short story was part of the compilation, "6 Good Things About 2020" a collection of short stories of the 2020 Collective Folk Fiction writing competition.

Download the book of short stories in EPUB (most tablets) format.

Download the book of short stories in PDF format.

Download the book of short stories in Plain Text format.

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poorly-drawn-akira · 3 years

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((Posted mostly for what Eiji’s right arm looks like, rambling about layers under the cut))

1. The undermost layer is typically made from scraps of fabric leftover from outer clothing layers. It serves to protect sensitive body parts from the corse wool of the other layers.

This layer is one of the only differences in everyday Morvenian clothing for men and women: A man’s will be some form of loose chest wrapping and a separate loose lower covering while a woman will wrap her chest more firmly for support and then wear a loose fitting short dress-like garment made by tying two pieces of fabric long enough to reach mid-thigh together at the shoulder and then tying another scrap of cloth around the middle.

During the winter, most people will also wear a tall pair of wool socks as part of this first layer.

2. A loose fitting, heavy wool tunic that’s worn during the winter. This layer is often slept in. A short pair of wool socks that are worn on their own in the summer and over the taller pair in winter.

3. A long, loose fitting wool kirtle. Worn by itself in the summer months. Wool is worn even in the warmest months as Morven’s average warmest temperature is 53 degrees F. Sturdy leather boots are also worn year-round.

While women will keep their hair long for their whole lives, only unmarried men will have long hair. A boy will begin growing his hair out at around the age of 12 as to have hair or considerable length at the age of 16 and keep it long until marriage or devotion to a group that requires refusal of marriage.

This stems from superstition that Malik-Kei is less likely to differentiate between a long haired man and a woman and thus is less likely to lure unmarried men away from the village to freeze.

4. Outermost layer of a short-sleeved kimono-style surcoat. A man’s ends just above the knee while a woman’s will match her kirtle in length. These are typically made of lighter materials than the kirtle and tunic. The most common material for these garments is cotton due to it being less expensive in trades and easy to dye.

A wide sash is used to secure the surcoat shut and to give shape to the entire outfit. The sash will often be colored quite brightly and made of dyed cotton sewn over top of wool to help give the sash structure. While someone will own several garments of the other three layers, it’s uncommon to own more than one surcoat and sash.

It’s common for hair accessories to be made of leftover sash cotton. Currently, it’s trendy among young men to put their hair into a low top-knot for convenience in everyday life while young women will braid the front sections of their hair with sash scraps and pull these braids together in the back for the same purpose.

5. Morvenian wedding tradition:

Both the bride and groom wear scarves wrapped around their bodies. These scarves are bright, vibrant colors that the couple decides on. Popular color pairings tend to be colors that are similar (yellow and orange, blue and purple, sky blue and blue, pink and red, etc).

The bride traditionally wears a long white dress and the groom wears a white tunic with a long skirt in a darker shade of the same color of his scarf. Both the bride and groom wear a headdress that also in their scarf color with a white face veil attached to it.

The bride's also has a veil attached to the back of the headpiece to cover her hair.While the base garments will be newly made for the couple, one set of wedding scarves and veils tends to passed down through a family until no longer usable. When the youngest child of a family is wed, the wedding clothes are typically gifted to the eldest child for their children.

The couple will be wed at the Malik-Kei temple with the ceremony being said by the oldest male member of the groom's family (Although, depending on the circumstances, the oldest man in the bride's family or a male village elder are also acceptable).

The ceremony finishes with the officiant tying the couple's scarves together before they enter their home together. The unveiling is the final part of a wedding day where the couple will remove each other's veils and scarves before consummating the marriage.

Eijiro wears a groom’s headpiece in order to cover the remains of his horns and his sharp teeth.

#jjbfantasy #((Because one of my special interests is historical fashion and I care))#((I care a lot I love it when there's a breakdown of each layer and what it does))#((And it's cultural significance))

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freefallingfox · 4 years

Text

A Woman With Laughing Eyes

As children, we grow used to hammering foreign names into our nimble minds. Exotic names, like Tutankhamun and Caligula. Grand names, such as the Sun King and the Iron Cardinal. Terrifying names, akin to Hitler and Stalin. Yet, beyond the textbook pages soaked in lamplight, thousands of human fates remain hidden from our sight. These past lives, with the lessons they harbour, continuously slip through our fingers and, like the finest grains of sand, disappear among cemeteries’ greying soil. However, there is one tale, which refuses its descent into the well of anonymity. Instead, it burns in the souls of those, who were entrusted with its contents. Soon, it shall blaze within your heart as well. For, you see, there is no forgetting a woman with laughing eyes…

It all began with collectivisation. Inherently, there seems nothing particularly ominous about this term. In fact, a foreign reader might be forgiven for not knowing of its existence, and, perhaps even gifting it with nebulous, positive connotations of teamwork and equality. By the spring of 1920, Anastasia Bukatkina knew better. In a single instant, the soil of her forefathers was literally torn from under her feet, only to be replaced by the shackles of marriage. The twenty-one-year-old was to be wed to a complete stranger. Their first meeting would transpire mere minutes before their fates were sealed together. The ceremony would be officiated by the commander of the local Red Army division in a sun-beaten field at the outskirts of their village. In short, Nastya* had the questionable honour of being a proper, communist bride.

He was annoyingly handsome. Tall and lean, with the communist ribbon proudly entwining his torso. Her appearance and inclinations were irrelevant. Nastya was the eldest daughter of a srednyak**, and her virtue just happened to be the price for her family’s escape from the frosty embrace of Siberian exile. Sadly, her hand in marriage couldn’t spare her parents the bitter loss of their hard-earned estate and their herd of priced mares. Still, she was determined to at least spare them their lives. As for her own existence, the bride couldn’t care less. Her mother had stamped out her daughter’s dream of becoming a nurse, before the aspiration could even properly take root. After all, no girl from a respectable family could be allowed to pursue a living in the capital with her brothers. Why, the scandal would immediately bring their family to ruin! Ironic, how Anastasia hasn’t managed to escape the fate of undermining her home’s repute in the end…

Interestingly, the bride was incredibly well-educated by contemporary standards. Having completed five classes of Orthodox schooling, she excelled in Bible studies, being able to recite entire passages by heart until her dying days. (Anastasia’s scholastic certificate, her single pride and joy, was eventually reduced to cockroach food, having been haphazardly attached to the izba’s*** walls with bread crumb. Tsar Nicholas II’s painted, regal countenance was essentially torn apart by ruthless insects in a morbid metaphor of his actual demise). Meanwhile, the groom couldn’t even properly sign his own name. Raised without a father, the young man had become his family’s breadwinner early on, with membership in the communist party representing a long-awaited escape from poverty’s grasp. The two newly-weds couldn’t be more different.

That day, the name “Fyodor” still tasted foreign on her tongue. Anastasia didn’t yet realise that this stripling would eventually become the beloved father of her seven children, the rock, which would help her weather a World War, and the elderly man that would make her laugh despite her raging diabetes and failing eyesight. Neither could she imagine to ever bearing her new last name, Suslova,**** with pride. At her wedding, the association with a gopher seemed too insulting, especially considering her short, plain stature. If only she could have read her spouse’s thoughts! The groom hadn’t lacked female attention in the past in his role as a dashing revolutionary. Tall girls, thin girls, curvy girls- he had a taste of many. They warmed his nights and vanished by dawn, as if washed away by the fresh dew. But she seemed different…Of noble class, and thus previously untouchable, yet coveted. Stoic in the face of sudden separation from her family. With soft hands, that had been spared the earthly toils. A waif from a different world, who despite the blows dealt to her by fate, remained standing ramrod straight. But most importantly her eyes… Filled with such mirth and warmth when looking out at the sun-kissed, kneeling wheat in the distance. Laughing eyes.

Fyodor caught his young bride’s gaze and never looked back. They remained inseparable until his death in 1989.

*Nastya is short for Anastasia in Russian

** Srednyak is a Russian term used to describe middle-class farmers, who, like their richer counterparts (kulaks) were stripped of all property and generally exiled by the Soviet state

*** Izba is Russian for a wooden cottage

**** Suslova comes from the word “suslik” which means gopher in Russian

#short fiction #short story #love #marriage #Russia #ussr #memorylane #history #tw: arranged marriage

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art-of-the-wild772 · 5 years

Text

Daffodils and Carnations

This is a Jin Ling x Lan SiZhui prompt, and its omegaverse, so to those who will read it, enjoy.

I just felt that there wasn't enough of these out there so here's my contribution. This is canon diverse, just FYI. The plot happens a few months after the book ends.

Last note: since this is omegaverse, the titles mother/father and bride/groom are determined by their second sex. Omegas are mothers (usually, though some people go by their first sex with these titles), alphas are fathers and betas are determined by their first sex (unless in a relationship with an alpha or an omega, but there's too much detail that goes into that and we don't have the time).

Anyway:

Jin Ling is a late bloomer. Most kids first present about a month or two after they turn thirteen. Jin Ling is fifteen and he still hasn't presented. Most think that he's going to remain a beta his entire life, but his scent is stronger than an actual beta. Some think that there's something wrong with the kid, others who have a lot of free time and don't have anything to do except gossip say that he's an embarrassment to the LanlingJin Sect. His father was an alpha, his grandfather was an alpha, his great grandfather was an alpha and so forth. All this talk was starting to get to the poor boy.

So, one night, when he'd had enough, he ventured out in secret and took out his anger on trees and shrubs and fierce corpses. Not surprisingly, he ran into the Lan disciples and decided to tag along on their mission. He was mostly quiet -which was unusual for him, to say the least- and stayed at the back of the herd. Lan JingYi teased him a lot during their trip, but Jin Ling kept ignoring him, too focused on his anger and irritation. Lan SiZhui would glance at him a few times out of worry, even going to the back to grab JingYi away from Jin Ling.

They dealt with the few fierce corpses that were causing a ruckus in a small village nearby, when on the way back, Jin Ling finally snapped. Reason: he heard a few passerbys talk about him as they went on the path through the forest.

He almost lashed out at them if it wasn't for Lan SiZhui stepping in front of the gossipers. He looked at him with fury before running off to the side and away. The Lan disciples followed him after a few seconds of stunned silence.

Jin Ling had ran for a few minutes before hitting someone, and that someone just so happened to be his very worried and irritated uncle.

Surrounded by Jiang Cheng and the Lan disciples, Jin Ling was only further angered. He was sweating profusly and his teeth were bared for the world to see. A quiet yet deep growl was also coming from his chest.

He only calmed once he saw SiZhui step forward slowly, both hands raised to show he meant no harm. A sudden wave of pheromones hit Jin Ling's nose- omegan pheromones. They were SiZhui's. Had they always been this sweet? This calming? He barely took two breaths of the elegant aroma when he fell to his knees, feeling quite hot and heavy. Lan SiZhui also fell down, the alpha scent coming off in strong and powerful waves over his sensitive nose. He too, began to sweat just a little.

Immediately, Jiang Cheng went to tend to his nephew while the Lan disciples pulled SiZhui farther away.

♡♡♡

Moving on, the more fluffy stuff's coming up next.

About three months had passed since the whole rut thing with Jin Ling happened and he's still trying to figure everything out. His uncle is there to help (but we all know how much he actually helps), Wei WuXian also came to visit after his rut with Lan WangJi, saying that he brought the Lan to give him some advice (not that it helped much, what with said Lan being a man of few words and even fewer expressions).

He only saw SiZhui about four times during the course of those three months. The first being after his rut when Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi came to see him. His nose was still a bit sensitive and having the person who triggered his rut near by wasn't helping too much, but he tried to suppress it.

The second time was on a Nigh Hunt he went with his uncle, bumping into him and the Lan disciples again. He kept on getting nervous around him during their stay at an inn and a few days after they left, his rut came in early. #triggered

The third time was again on a hunt, this time put together by Wei WuXian because he wanted to teach the kids something about cultivation and a situation just so happened to pop up about that exact thing (*wink, wink*). Luckily, his uncle helped him show how he could keep his rut from getting triggered again (some type of medical surpressant, perhaps, or a talisman or charm that could help dull his senses a bit, his nose mostly) so everything went smoothly. That's not to say he still didn't feel butterflies in his stomach whenever he'd hear Lan SiZhui's vioce, let alone when he gave him a happy smile once they completed the task. Jesus, that last one was a close call.

The forth time was a celebration and the most awkward event he ever went to.

It was a summer celebration that the LanlingJin sect was having (it could be whatever, maybe the hunting thing on Phoenix Mountain) and this is what I see happening:

Wei Wuxian had two choices: either stay on the sidelines or stay by Lan WangJi's side but not catch prey himself. Of course he chose the latter and young Master Lan couldn't be happier about it. They went off as a pair into the mountain, taking their time to stroll around and enjoy the scenic view.

Jin Ling followed after them along with the Jin Sect's disciples. He decided to devide them into groups and they all split, going their separate ways.

This left Jin Ling alone. He needed the quiet to think things through. He had enough time to figure out what he wanted, now he just had to put it to words. (Also realizing that maybe he has wanted this for longer than now, as he was constantly beating himself for being stupid enough not to notice while on Phoenix Mountain)

He was walking around as he thought of what to say when a demon attacked him. He was caught off guard and responded slowly and sloppily, just barely stopping it. He heaved a sigh of relief when he sensed danger from behind, turning to look but it was too late to respond as another demon took the chance for an ambush. Lucky him that Lan SiZhui was there when he came.

He was alone as well, so they decided to walk around together and talk aimlessly. Jin Ling took a breath as he gathered his courage and stepped in front of the Lan deciple. SiZhui wanted to tell him something as well, but he confessed that he wanted to court him before the other even had the chance to speak. SiZhui was taken off guard.

That's when Wei WuXian stepped in, whistling and saying that he was a bit too young to declare such an oath (of sorts).

Jin Ling protested, saying he was fifteen and old enough to make his decisions. SiZhui turned him then, but he sported a look of sympathy and guilt. He told Jin Ling that he presumed his presence wasn't all too welcomed, judging from the way the young heir was acting around him, so he decided to give him some space and accompany Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi's travels that they had been discussing for a while now.

Was that someone breaking glass he heard?

Jin Ling was glaring at the ground and didn't move, even as SiZhui apologized and left along with his parents.

At the end of the day, people wondered what kind of demon there was to cause such chaos and destruction on that side of the forest.

☆♡☆ Four Years Later ☆♡☆

The Lan family were finally going home and surprised everyone at the Phoenix Mountain festival that year. They had arrived with Little Apple and strode down the path just as the contestants were about to go off (all Wei WuXian). The Lan deciples had gotten exited and barely stopped themselves from running. They were greeted warmly and Lan XiChen wanted to hug his brother, brother-in-law and nephew but that was a moment for another, more private time.

(small spiral)

"SiZhui?" A voice rang above the rest, laced with pleasant surprise. It was quiet and oddly gentle, but he heard it as loud and clear as thunder.

He turned his head to the right, away from Lan JingYi to see a figure clad in the LanlingJin sect's robes pushing his way through the people. It had been too long since he saw those eyes and the familiar vermilion mark between pinched brows. His eyes widened slightly as he noticed how different Jin Ling looked from three years ago, the most noticeable difference was his height.

True, Lan SiZhui had grown an inch or two during the years, but the sect-leader-to-be had far surprassed him. He reached the younger's eyes when he stood straight. It was odd, having to crane his neck up to see him properly.

"Young Master Jin." He greeted formally, bowing his head low. He could've sworn he saw a look of disappointment cross the alpha's face when he looked up, but it was gone before he could take a proper look.

(End of spiral)

So, the whole ceremony continues as it usually does, Wei WuXian by Lan WangJi's side like a few years ago, and the Jin disciples split, leaving the young hair alone again.

Lan SiZhui had been walking the path in the mountain alone as well, his head down and deep in thoughts, when a dozen fierce corpse appeared around him. He took up a stance and they started to fight, his leg getting injured in the process.

Jin Ling suddenly appeared out of no where, helping him fend off the last few corpses. He helped bring him by a small stream nearby and cleaned off his wound. The small conversation they had was awkward, questions like 'how are you' and 'how was your trip' were answered shortly and curtly, leaving an empty silence after them.

Lan SiZhui complemented Jin Ling on his bandaging skills once he was done, the latter saying that he had a lot of practice with a proud smile. He helped SiZhui up and asked if he wanted to go and take a rest at the bottom of the mountain. He replied that he was fine and could continue on. He almost slipped when he took a step forward, but Jin Ling caught him just before he could fall. He held his bicep tightly as he wrapped the other arm around his shoulders.

They walked around like that for a while, SiZhui averting his gaze whenever he caught himself looking at the other and Jin Ling staring forward and around, anywhere except to the person he had his arms around.

(Another spiral)

"Jin Ling." Lan SiZhui said, stopping in his trek. The other followed suit, looking at the omega with a questioning brow.

"What is it?" He asked, stepping a bit away so he could properly look at him, but his arm stayed around his shoulders.

SiZhui looked to the ground and around him, biting his lip slightly. There was no way to start this conversation without it being awkward. "About... The thing you said... During the last time I was here on Phoenix Mountain..." He needn't continue. Jin Ling knew exactly what he was talking about.

"What about it?" He asked, his brows slightly furrowing.

"Well... I just wanted to know... Have you found someone else?" He finally looked up at him, his face uncertain. "Someone that could make you happy?"

Jin Ling was silent for a moment. "You could make me happy." He said that as a statement, no hesitation in his words whatsoever. "SiZhui, I don't think you understand the fact that I like you. I really do. A lot."

"Because I helped you with your rut." It wasn't a question, faint disappointment was laced in his voice.

"That just helped me realize what was in front of me."

"An omega you could mess around with."

"Stop twisting my words." His brows were down, his hands now gripping SiZhui's tightly. "I like you. I really do. Have for a ling time, just hadn't realized it till that day. And I want to prove it to you. Prove that I like your smile and your laugh. That I like how gentle yet strong you are, that I really admire how you can keep your cool while in a fiery situation. SiZhui... Please.." His eyes were vulnerable, stripped of the walls in front of them. "You can leave whenever you want to. Just let me prove that I like you."

The Lan disciple didn't know what to do. He, too, had the time to think over was Jin Ling had said those three years ago, and it would be a lie to say that he didn't like him back, if not but a little bit. But Jin Ling was the heir to the LanlingJin Sect, how would that look for him? What would his fathers'- actually, that wasn't a valid question, they would support him in whatever made him happy. What about Jin Ling's uncle, then? What would he say? And all those gossiping old men who had nothing better to do with their time? Could he even bear him an heir?- Okay, that was thinking too far ahead.

He took a deep breath to calm himself. When he looked up, he saw the hope and fear in Jin Ling's eyes, but behind them was understanding. Understanding if he said no and just left him there. SiZhui couldn't do that. He wasn't that cruel.

He let out the breath he didn't know he was holding and smiled slightly to himself. Nervousness suddenly washed over him and a great deal of butterflies erupted in his stomach. His hands, already clammy in Jin Ling's, felt even more sticky as he gripped them tightly.

He looked up at the alpha again, a smile playing on his lips. "Okay." He said, gently.

Jin Ling couldn't believe his ears.

(End of second spiral)

The young alpha barely stopped himself from jumping the injured one, the grin he sported splitting his face.

SiZhui blushed and giggled slightly, the butterflies he felt comming in herds of hundreds.

But their peaceful moment was ruined when a demon jumped them, followed by a few fierce corpses.

It was safe to say that Jin Ling's fighting that day was exceptional.

☆♡☆

It was sundown when Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi made their way down the mountain, idly chatting and enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. Their eyes widened when they saw that the Lan and Jin clans were still down in the clearing.

When they got in front of the Lan disciples, Lan JingYi quickly ran to them to ask if they had seen Lan SiZhui anywhere. They both shook their heads no, but Wei WuXian assured them that he was fine and could take care of himself. He still felt a little uneasy, though.

They gave Jiang Cheng the same answer when he asked about Jin Ling. The situation was starting to get worrisome.

As Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi were about to make their way up the mountain again, a figure suddenly emerged. He was clad in yellow, the Jin sect's robes, and he looked hunched. They realized that there was someone on his back when they looked closer, a sigh of relief escaping both clans.

Jin Ling made his way to them, Lan SiZhui asleep on his back. The omega's arms where tightly wrapped around the neck of the alpha as the latter gripped the legs to his side firmly. The bandages where splotched red at a specific place, the wound opened, it seemed.

Jin Ling carefully shook the other awake and set him down gently, putting a hand on his back to steady him. SiZhui smiled sleepily at him, thanking him for the help. The heir looked to the side with a goofy smile, trying to calm his burning cheeks. The two sects ran to them both, asking questions of 'what happened' and 'are you alright'.

They both dismissed them, saying they were fine apart from SiZhui's injured leg. Jiang Cheng slapped Jin Ling on the back of his head, saying that he shouldn't make people worry like that. The younger was in such a good mood that all he said was 'Alright, I'm sorry.' Jiang Cheng was worried his nephew was possessed by a demon.

The two smiled bashfully at each other as they parted ways, Wei WuXian eyeing them.

♡♡♡

Okay, so, I did my research and according to the Internet, in ancient China, the man would give presents to the woman's family (as a sign of wealth, I think?) and so, after about a month and a half of couritng, a gift suddenly came in the Cloud Reccesses for Lan SiZhui.

It was a bouquet full of different breeds of flowers: the rim was covered with 15 irises, 10 daffodils and orange lilies in the next circle, 7 purple lilacs, 3 linaria bipartitas and 1 lotus in the center of it. SiZhui had no idea what the bouquet meant until Wei WuXian brought him a book on the meanings of flowers from the library. His face had turned redder and redder as he read every meaning of the flowers. Wei WuXian told Lan WangJi about his suspicions and they were getting confirmed slowly as the gifts kept on coming.

The second gift that came was a few weeks after the flowers; a cloud charm made of white jade. Lan SiZhui kept the charm on his person, hidden under his robes. That didn't mean We WuXian hadn't seen it laying on his dresser one day when he was walking by the window.

The third gift was given to him a month later by Jin Ling himself when they met up on a night hunt with the rest of the disciples. They all separated into groups and the two just so happened to be placed together. Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi also accompanied them, mostly because the former wanted to confirm his suspicions.

As the two youngers were walking with their swords in their hands, Jin Ling stopped and brought Lan SiZhui closer to him, pulling out a necklace from his pocket. He held it up to him, the lotus sign of the LanlingJin sect hanging on it with an engraved sun in the middle.

SiZhui had blushed and almost cried when he was reminded of what his home went through, but he was happy nonetheless and let Jin Ling put the necklace on him.

As the young heir pulled his hands back, he gently laid them onto the omega's cheeks, caressing them softly. SiZhui nuzzled them out of instinct, placing a hand on to of the other's. His eyes were gentle and full of passion, happy to be where he was now.

They slowly leaned in for a kiss, a gentle peck on the lips, a brush from skin to skin. It wasn't anything too special, but the butterflies that kept appearing in SiZhui's stomach said otherwise.

It was their third kiss (on the lips, cheek kisses happened a lot) during the months that they've been together. The first was on a night hunt, too quick to be enjoyable, the second after the first gift and the third one now.

Wei WuXian almost jumped out of the bushes, teasing remarks on his tongue, if it wasn't for Lan WangJi pulling him back by his collar.

He got a mouthful from his parents (Wei WuXian) when they went back home, his face beat red, but he was still happy that they approved the relationship.

People slowly got suspicious as weeks flew by and SiZhui kept getting gifts more frequently. Rumors spread in the Cloud Recesses that he was engaged, while even more rumors arose in the LanlingJin Sect that the young heir had found himself a bride and was keeping her hidden.

Yes, those whispered lies did annoy them, and sometimes they hurt, but neither payed much attention to them. Though, it was through those rumors that Jiang Cheng confronted his nephew one night about them in his usual demeanor. The younger had taken a deep breath and replied that yes, he was seeing someone. When he said that it was a person from the GusuLan Sect, the leader immediately guessed who it was. It stunned Jin Ling slightly that his uncle hit the nail on the head, but he didn't deny it. It was even more shocking to see a sort of defeated look on his face. He almost got a heart attack when a gentle yet firm hand was placed on his shoulder and his uncle gave him his blessings and saying that he was old enough to make his decisions. He almost fainted on the spot after Jiang Cheng left.

When he went to visit Cloud Recesses, he told the Lan family of what happened, Wei WuXian raising his eyebrows and almost laughing at the look Jin Ling was sporting.

♡♡♡

The first time the two did it was awkward. They had been together for about four months and a week and it happened when the Lan family was staying over at the LanlingJin Sect for a visit and a few Night Hunts here and there.

Jin Ling had walked Lan SiZhui to his room and the latter invited him in. They sat and talked for a while over tea before the young alpha had moved to sit by the omega to show him something. The conversation paused for a moment, both of them looking into each others' eyes before they kissed slowly. Things spiraled from there.

The next morning, SiZhui found the space beside him empty and he felt like his stomach dropped. He winced as he sat up, his robe loosely tied around him. He was surprised when Jin Ling walked in with a tray full of food in his hands, and dressed in fresh clothing. He removed a bag that was swung over his shoulders and revealed another set of clean clothes, similar to the designs of the Cloud Recesses but clearly different. The young Lan was reluctant about putting them on, but after he was reassured that it would be better if people didn't see him in dirty clothes, he put on the fresh robes and they both came up with a lame excuse as to why he was wearing them.

Their sex life wasn't as active as Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi, but they had their fun and they definitely got better at it as time passed.

It was about the end of the third week of July when SiZhui had this nagging feeling that something was off. Not particularly wrong, but not exactly good either. He had been getting sick and tired quite easily for a while now, and some have started to notice.

He brushed it off and continued normally, until about the end of August when he realized that something was clearly off. His heat hadn't come yet. Yes, there have been a few times where it would be late, but never two weeks late.

He quickly went to the library to see what could possibly be wrong, when the book he had been reading from fell from his hands. Two hours of searching only for this. He didn't want to believe it but all the symptoms matched: tiredness, cravings, mood swings (though those were well hidden), morning sickness for the first few weeks, dizziness and so forth.

He couldn't be pregnant, right?

What would he tell his parents?

What would he tell Jin Ling?

Nothing. Not for a while, at least. He still needed to confirm this with a professional. And who better to ask then his uncle Wen Ning.

Though the man didn't have his sister's amazing skills, he still knew enough to help out others, and SiZhui's world seemed to stop when he confirmed that he was pregnant, about a month and a few weeks in, actually.

He made his uncle promise not to tell anyone until he made a decision.

Meanwhile, while SiZhui is going through his inner turmoil, Jin Ling is making everything all the more difficult. The gifts keep on coming with a flower accompanied every time. He recieved a small statue of a bunny family once with a red carnation. He cried when he read what the meaning was behind it.

It was a bit awkward when he saw Jin Ling after that since they have yet to say those words to each other. His mind was reeling and he was clearly not well enough to got on a Night Hunt, but what excuse could he give?

His parents were also joining them that night along with a few new disciples, both from the Lan and Jin sect. The Lan leader, along with the leader from Yunmeng Jiang sect came as well (with its disciples). Said they wanted to see how their new disciples were doing. Wen Ning came with them just to make sure SiZhui would be alright, though he gave the excuse that he wanted to get out a bit. He kept his distance because the young ones seemed afraid. Wei WuXian laughed at that heartedly.

The Night Hunt wasn't supposed to be a difficult one, but things got messy as a few dozens of fierce corpses showed up. The Lan and Jin disciples had split into groups, a person with more experience leading them. Lan JingYi was leading one group with Lan XiChen, Jiang Cheng mixed with all three sects (the poor things looked terrified), Lan WangJi another, surprisingly not with Wei WuXian who had went the opposite way and that left Jin Ling and Lan SiZhui with the disciples of their sects.

The trek around the forest by the town was slow, to say the least, as the kids scattered about, leaving the two with some semblance of privacy up in the front. Jin Ling had been talking aimlessly, happy and a little nervous. He knew what the flowers meant, he wasn't stupid, so you could say he was sort of waiting for a reply.

He looked around to make sure no one was watching and brushed SiZhui's hand slightly, the other jerking his hand back as he was snapped out of his racing mind. The hurt look on the young alpha's face stabbed his heart, but before he could say anything, he pushed the other away, bringing forth his sword and slashing the fierce corpse.

More corpses came seemingly out of nowhere and everyone got to work.

They later discovered that the people from the village dumped all their criminals and bad people on the mountain, somewhere in a cave on the other side. The older cultivators warned them to remedy their actions otherwise this would keep on happening. But that's in the future, we still have something else to deal with now.

A corpse almost got to SiZhui if it wasn't for his partner piercing his sword through its chest. The fight had been going on for quite a while now, and a signal was set off to the seniors.

At one point, the young omega lost his grip on his sword when he saw Jin Ling getting his clothes ripped off as a huge gash was made on his back. He was stricken too and immediately covered his stomach out of instinct as he fell. The action would haunt him later, but right now he needed to get to his alpha.

He pushed the corpse off him and ran towards the young heir, shielding him with his body as he called his sword back.

Luckily he didn't need to continue doing that as the others arrived and the fight was over in just a few minutes.

His mind kept on going back to that moment where he protected his stomach, a feeling of fullness enveloped him as he remembered.

Saying he was distracted would've been an understatement- and saying that Jin Ling hadn't noticed would've been even stupider.

♡♡♡

This kept on going for about another month and a half when the young heir decided to confront his uncle about it.

They sat at the usual place Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi went when they wanted to go out for food, a happy smile on the omega's face because his nephew wanted to talk to him about his life and problems. And he knew he was the only one who could help with this if the prideful smile was anything to go by- Jiang Cheng was not an option.

When the subject about his relationship finally came up, his face got beat red when his uncle started teasing him about it.

(V/v/v/ small spiral)

"Is something wrong with SiZhui?" Jin Ling asked after a moment of silence. Wei WuXian had stopped laughing and looked at him with a little surprise. He paused and thought.

"Well, you see him more than I, but his scent has been a bit off for about a month now." Jin Ling perked up at that, sitting straighter.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, it'a barely noticible, but it smells much softer than before. He smells like dew and radishes for me, but there is definitely another hidden scent trying to get out." His nephew gave him a weird look. "What?"

"Radishes?"

"Haha," Wei WuXian had a splitting grin on his face, reaching his eyes with a nostalgic feeling. "It's nothing, just something from the past."

Jin Ling raised a brow but didn't ask further. Rather, he thought about what his uncle had just said. Smelled off? He hasn't exactly noticed before, but now that it was pointed out to him... He seemed to recall a few other things as well, like the fact that Lan SiZhui looked a bit pale at times and he got tired easily, too. Was he getting down with something? Is there a sickness that took a long time to kill its victim?

And there was this one time SiZhui asked him to bite him while they were busy. Not bite like nips, but actually mark him. He brushed it off as just sex talk, but should he have been worried? Marking someone was a pretty serious thing, after all.

Wei WuXian gave him a soft smile. "A-Ling," He said gently, the young heir snapping his head and looking up at him. "If you're worried about him then just talk to him. SiZhui wouldn't want you to worry yourself sick. I'm sure he's just waiting for you to notice or something." He looked at his uncle with doubtful eyes, but nodded his head firmly afterwards. It was about time they had a talk anyway.

(That's it)

When Jin Ling confronts SiZhui about his weirdness these past months, the omega almost falls apart on the spot. They were currently outside the LanlingJin Sect out on a Night Hunt when the two managed to escape the others.

Jin Ling immediately went down with him and brought him closer into a tight hug, telling him that everything would be alright.

Somehow, some way, Lan SiZhui managed to tell him that he was two and a half months pregnant and Jin Ling could do nothing but stare. SiZhui takes that as a bad sign and starts to walk away, apologizing to the other and saying that he never had to see him again if he didn't want to. That seemed to snap the alpha out of his daze as he quickly catches up and hold's the other in place, words stuck in his throat.

He didn't get anything out as a disciple called him over and JingYi yelled for SiZhui.

His voice somehow began to work then and he said that he didn't want to not see SiZhui ever again and that he just needed time to wrap his mind around this new information. The omega nodded and wiped his tears, stepping a bit back. He bowed to the heir and turned around, walking to his group.

Jin Ling had stood in his spot till he couldn't see SiZhui anymore.

♡♡♡

About two weeks had passed with no word from the LanlingJin heir and the young omega was starting to worry. He didn't leave his room much except when it was time to eat or study. He told the others that he wasn't feeling well and it showed on his complexion.

His parents came in one day, asking if he was alright. When they saw him, he had bags under his eyes and he looked rather thin. His robes were loose around him and his hair looked slightly oily. They sat him down and he told them that he was fine, but they kept on persisting. He broke down in front of them and they pulled him into a tight hug.

He was resting his torso on Wei WuXian while his legs were in Lan WangJi's lap, calling out 'mama' and 'papa' and asking them 'what am I going to do' under his breath. They comforted him the best they could till he fell asleep, a much needed rest judging by how deep his breaths were. They stayed like that till he woke up a few hours later, apologizing profusely for acting so rudely. They reassured him that it was fine and took him out to see the bunnies, a smile finally gracing his lips.

It had been a few days since the whole ordeal had happened and both parents made sure to visit their son at least once a day to make sure he was eating and resting properly, when Jin Ling suddenly came knocking on their doors. Lan WangJi was reluctant about letting him in, having guessed that SiZhui was upset because of him, but he was coerced into letting him pass. Jiang Cheng was also accompanying him, along with a few warriors, but his face had that sort of annoyed/'can we get this over with already' along with 'my nephew is an idiot' face.

The four were sitting down on the table with tea in front of them as silence reigned on. Wei WuXian was the first to speak, asking what was so important that he himself had to show up.

(Get ready)

"I want to ask for you blessing." Jin Ling said firmly, though you could hear his voice trembling slightly.

"For what?" His uncle asked, picking up his drink.

"For SiZhui's hand in marriage." Wei WuXian choked around his cup, even Lan WangJi seemed to cough a few times.

"What?" He asked, still trying to clear his throat. "What brought this on?"

Jin Ling stopped for a moment, collecting his bravery. "Because I love him."

Silence passed.

"Aren't you a bit young for marriage?" The omega said gently.

"That's what I've been saying." Jiang Cheng said, his annoyance seeping through his voice. He looked like he was about to slap Jin Ling upside down.

A meek voice from the corner of the room spoke before anyone else could say anything. "What?" All eyes turned to the youngest Lan in the room, but his gaze was on the heir, caging him up and asking an unspoken question.

"SiZhui..." Wei WuXian began, sitting a bit straighter. "Do you know about this?" The young omega shook his head.

"It's the first time I'm hearing of it." He made his way slowly to his parents, sitting down by Lan WangJi, directly in Jin Ling's vision.

His hand was placed on his stomach gently and it brought the latter's attention to it very easily. He swallowed a bit.

"Second master Lan. Master Wei. Please." Jin Ling bowed with his head low, something you wouldn't exactly associate with him. It was a bit surprising to see him beg for something, but they masked their expressions the best they could (at least Wei WuXian did). "I want to marry your son. Will you give me permission and your blessings?"

"I understand what you're saying, Jin Ling." We WuXian said, sympathy lacing his voice. "But you are both still too young for marriage, even if you do love eac-"

"I'm pregnant."

Wei WuXian chocked on his words while Jiang Change spit his tea. Lan WangJi and Jin Ling took in sharp breaths, fear starting to appear on the latter's eyes while flames of anger were bursting in the older alpha. He gripped his sword tightly, all the while schooling his face into a neutral one again.

The older omega looked at his son with disbelief while the leader of the YunmengJiang sect was ready to kill his nephew.

"You are *what*?" Wei WuXian asked, placing a hand over Lan WangJi's.

"I'm three months along." The Lan alpha gripped his sword tighter.

Jiang Cheng slapped his nephew across the back of his head. "How'd you let this happen?!" He demanded, Zidian starting to glow. Even after years have passed, Jin Ling was still terrified of his uncle.

"It wasn't intentional, we were just-"

"That's even worse!"

"Sect leader Jiang." SiZhui spoke in a calm voice, bringing all the attention to him again. "It wasn't all Jin Ling's fault. I am to blame here, too. We should've been more careful and I'm sorry for causing all this trouble." He bowed to him.

"Oh, SiZhui..." Wei WuXian said softly.

"And I'm sorry to you, too." He bowed to his parents as well, but Lan WangJi gripped his arm tightly yet reassuringly. He shook his head when his son looked up at him.

"What's done is done." He spoke. "Now we look to the future."

"Lan Zhan's right." Wei WuXian was suddenly on his other side, putting a hand on his son's shoulder and neohew's back. "We have to look forward now." He smiled wide. "I'm gonna be a grandma!" He said cheerfully.

Jiang Cheng sighed exasperatedly and rolled his eyes, resting his head in his hand. He thought the young heir was pardoned too easily.

Jin Ling was still nervous, sitting up straight but keeping an eye on his uncle. He could just sense what he was thinking.

"You have my blessing." His attention was quickly diverted to his other uncle who was still smiling. "As long as SiZhui accepts. Lan Zhan?" They both looked at the second jade who hummed his agreement. Now all attention was on the young omega who looked nervous for the first time since he got into the whole situation.

"Could we... have a moment alone, please?" Wei WuXian nodded and pulled Jiang Cheng out of there, Lan WangJi following him, but not before he gave Jin Ling the stink eye. The latter shivered slightly, but he would never admit that.

"Jin Ling." He completely forgot all about how intimidating Lan WangJi was and diverted all his attention to the one in front of him. SiZhui looked more nervous now, worrying his lip till it became red. "Are you... are you sure you want to marry me?" He looked at him through his lashes. Jin Ling gulped slightly, reaching over slowly to grab the omega's hands, giving him the opportunity to pull away. He didn't.

"Of course. Yes- why wouldn't I be?"

"Are you sure it's- it's not because I'm pregnant?" The alpha paused for a moment, thinking his answer over.

"Well..." He began. "Remember when I sent you that red carnation?" SiZhui nodded, blushing slightly. "I've been thinking about our future ever since. Actually, I've been thinking what life would be like with you even before that, but I *really* started to think how it could be after i gave the flower. What our wedding would look like, if we had kids, grandkids even." He gripped the hands in his a little tighter, a silly smile on his face. The other smiled slightly as well. "It is a bit fast... and you being pregnant does have some role to play in it... but I do want to marry you... SiZhui..." His lips thinned and his eyes were vulnerable, showing his nervousness. "I love you."

He felt his hands being gripped for a fleeting moment before it was gone. It felt like it was a mirage, his mind playing tricks on him to make him feel better.

"I love you, too." Okay, *now* his mind was playing tricks on him.

"What?" His voice was breathy, disbelieving.

"I've been thinking about our future, too." SiZhui said instead, looking to the side. "I've also been terrified these past few months. Scared that you may leave me because of this. Instead, you want to marry me." His laugh sounded relieved. His droopy eyes filled with tears as he looked into Jin Ling's. "I love you, too. And I will marry you."

(Das it)

Jin Ling had jumped him, pulling him into a hug and Wei WuXian burst through the doors to hug them both. The three congratulated them, though Jiang Cheng still seemed a bit angry.

News of the LanlingJin Sect's heir's marriage spread fast, and while most were shocked, close friends saw it coming from miles away. Those close friends who *were* shocked, well, that was cause they were marrying so young, but they were otherwise happy for them.

Lan SiZhui was starting to get slightly pampered by the Cloud Recesses' residents. He wasn't allowed to go on Night Hunts anymore, banned by Jin Ling first, then his parents, so he spent most of his time in the library or with his father's bunnies. A lot of people also gave him gifts for his young one and his health, which he did luckily get better. He recieved a lot of toys from Lan WangJi which made him smile but also a little nervous because there were a LOT of toys.

He also went to the LanlingJin sect a lot, what with the heir requesting he be there almost everyday. The wedding plans were also going smoothly as some of the traditions were already done with. The date of the wedding was set on the day Jin Ling becomes the leader of the LanlingJin sect: on his birthday. Immediately after the announcement, the wedding would proceed as neccessary.

Here's how I picture it:

So, like I already said, I did my research and the first thing they do is that the groom goes in a sedan to the bride's house (since this is omegaverse, the 'bride' would be the one who's second gender is lower, despite their first) and the family of the groom set fireworks as he leaves. Traditional drums accompany them for good luck.

When at the bride's home, the bridesmaids block the groom's way to the bride, asking for gifts. JingYi is here along with Wei WuXian (because he wanted to be a part of this particular moment).

After they let Jin Ling through, he has to complete a few challenges before he can take the bride. Here he will have to complete only one.

Wei WuXian placed a blind fold on his nephew before he got a chance to look at SiZhui and said that he had to find where his partner was without sight. He was turned a few times for the sake of making all the more difficult.

The poor kid ran into a pillar at one point and everyone laughed under their breaths, along with SiZhui. That's when Jin Ling stopped and took a whiff of the air. A sweet scent filled it along with another more baby like smell.

He followed his nose as it led him to SiZhui who stood there a little surprised but proud.

Jin Ling stopped a few feet away, having sensed another's presence in front of him. Lan WangJi was standing between the two, sword in hand and giving off protective pheromones. The young alpha took a step back and bowed to the older one, promising to take care of SiZhui and the children that they will have.

Lan WangJi still stood there till Wei WuXian called for him in a hushed tone, a small smile on his face at how protective he was of his son. With a 'Mm' he stepped away and went by his omega's side, looking onto the young ones.

Jin Ling straightened his back and took a few more steps towards SiZhui. The latter took off the blindfold and wrapped it around the other's wrist as a sign of a promise (this is my thing, not any type of tradition).

They were then carried off to the LanlingJin sect in separate sedans. Jin Ling was passed a long red cloth to hold over his right shoulder as SiZhui held the other end, being led into the hall of the Jin sect. There, the stopped in front of the stairs where the throne was and turned to their guests as they seated.

A red rod was give to Jin Ling (I forgot how it was called) and the two turned to each other, the alpha pulling up the red cloth from SiZhui's head bit by bit. First he looked at the mouth, then placed it down and then the nose, the eyes, and finally fully removed the headpiece.

Everyone laughed and clapped at their display, Jiang Cheng then being escorted to sit behind them as he was the only living older relative Jin Ling had. (This is supposed to be the groom's parents, idk if there is any rule about the uncle/aunt replacing them if they are gone, but we're gonna go with it)

The two turned to the crowd and sat down, bowing deeply three times to the Heaven and Earth, then they stood and turned around, doing the same thing to Jiang Cheng (the groom's parents) and finally turned to each other and bowed.

As they stood, SiZhui turned to the Yunmeng Jiang sect leader to receive a red envelope filled with money.

The two later then drank three times out of separate cups (idk what the drinks are, I was deistracted when this happened) and the marriage is sealed. (I cut a few things short, but that's the gist of it)

SiZhui was then picked up by Jin Ling and led away to the bridal chambers where there was food and drinks waiting for them. It was tradition, I think, for the two to get to know each other- in a way.

Later, the two came out to celebrate with the rest of their guests, the music carrying off into the night till early morning.

A bit of closure:

Their first child was born in April, and Jin Ling gave him the name LiHuan which the character's mean: Li- power, capability, influence; Huan- happy, pleased.

They had another kid and they both names him Bo, which means 'wave' (his full name is 'gold wave' and I love that), because he was born in summer by a river in GusuLan. It was too late to take SiZhui up to the Recesses since his contractions came quicker than when he was with LiHuan.

And finally, they had another kid three years later and everyone pampered the baby most out of the three because they had a girl. SiZhui named her, because Jin Ling gave LiHuan his name, and he called her Jin YanLi. Everyone was shocked silent, the alpha never even thinking of naming their daughter after his mother.

Jiang Cheng and Wei WuXian walked up to him to asked him if he was sure and when SiZhui confirmed that yes, he was, they both thanked him deeply and his mother flung his arms around him, his eyes filling with nostalgic yet happy tears.

And that's about it. :)

The flower meanings:

10 Daffodil- rebirth and *new beginnings* 15 Iris- *faith, hope, wisdom, courage and admiration* 7 purple Lilac- first emotion of love 10 orange Lily- *desire*, passion (humility and devotion) 3 Linaria Bipartita- please notice my love/feelings for you 1 Lotus- purity

Red Carnation- I love you

#Lan SiZhui #Jin Ling #Lan SiZhui x Jin Ling #Wei WuXian #Lan WangJi #Mo Dao Zu Shi #The Untamed #fanfic #MDZS #MDZS fanfic #Jiang Cheng #Lan XiChen #flowers #slower meaning #omegaverse #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #MDZS au #alternate universe

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drun-in-a-million · 4 years

Text

[ @little-justice And introducing @egan-first-of-his-name ]

Mefnan didn’t look anything like Drun had expected.

Then again, he wasn’t sure *what* he’d been expecting.

The planet was brilliant green, almost emerald, glowing brilliant against the dark backdrop of space. It was also very small, not looking much bigger than Earth’s moon. It almost seemed to glimmer and shine as they got closer. Drun felt his sydark pound. The voice was louder than it had ever been

Ah ahh ah ahhh~

“Mmm I can’t wait until we figure this out,” Ada said sleepily as she woke from her nap. She stretched, her back cracking a bit. “Just to get the voice to shut up and I can finally fucking sleep.”

Drun rolled his eyes. “Like you slept before- Ow!” He narrowed his eyes at his sister and rubbed his arm where she’d hit him. “I am driving you know?”

Ada scoffed. “Don’t be such a baby. You’ve had way worse than that.”

Drun couldn’t argue with that. He was Denivar, after all. Getting kidnapped frequently by various assholes came with the territory.

As they began to approach the atmosphere, the ship suddenly jolted sideways. The lights on the console began to flash repeatedly and a loud buzzing sound was coming from the dash.

“Um?! What is happening?!” Ada demanded, sitting back up in her seat.

Drun clutched onto the helm with a death grip, trying to steer the ship to no avail. It felt like something was literally trying to keep him from completely getting through the atmosphere of the planet. He growled. The voice was so loud. Desperate, even.

Ah ahh ah ahhh~

“DO SOMETHING, DRUN!” Ada shouted.

“I’m working on it!” Drun yelled back.He gave the helm a quick, violent jerk, forcing it forward and to the side. Finally the clouds of the atmosphere cleared, showing a large clearing in the middle of a forest. However, the ship continued to jostle and jump with turbulance, and he couldn’t seem to get it to come back up.

Shit.

“Hold on to something!” He told Ada, pressing a button to ensure they were fastened into their seats tightly.

Ada didn’t bother to argue, closing her eyes and bracing herself.

00000000000000

When Drun came to, he was still in his seat surrounded by rubble.

His antennae were ringing, not helping his aching head at all. He blinked a few times to try and shake the feeling off, grunting. There was something cold dripping down his face.

It was a struggle, but he managed to find his consciousness once more, especially when he began to hear a loud whimpering next to him. “Ada?” He blinked a few more times, trying to focus. Blood. There was blood. And… “Oh shit, Ada!”

For the most part his sister seemed fine, until you got down to her left ankle. It look almost twisted out of place, obviously broken. Something was sticking out of it, and it was covered in purple blood. Ada let out a painful cry followed by another whimper.

Drun sprung into action, ignoring the pain in his head as he quickly unfastened himself from his seat. “It’s okay. You’re okay we’ll find you some help.” He carefully unfastened her seat belt before gingerly scooping her up.

“Yeah, from where, genius?!” Ada snapped, only to cry out and sob when her ankle was jostled a bit from being picked up.

“There’s still people on this planet,” Drun told her. “I’m sure they have to have doctors or some-”

“Stop!”

Drun did as he was told, stopping at what remained of the door to his ship. He found himself surrounded by several people, all with deep blue skin and one eye. All of their eyes seemed to be the same shade of green, while their hair colors varied as much as humans’ did. He swallowed. “Hey, listen...we’re...we’re not here to cause an trouble we just-,”

Ah ahh ah ahhh~

At that moment Ada’s hands began to crackle and spark. Nothing shot out, just a bright glow of electricity around her fingers. A small flurry suddenly appeared above Drun’s head. He looked at the crowd nervously. A few of them had their elements on display, but none of them fluctuated like his and Ada’s suddenly did.

One of the older members of the crowd stepped forward, looking them up and down. He didn’t look quite as suspicious anymore, his gaze holding more of a cautious curiosity.

“Ozynite or Zehara?”

Drun’s brow furrowed. In all his research, he hadn’t heard those names. “I’m...I’m sorry?’

“The Call. You can hear it right?” the man asked. “It happens every so many years, but it can only be heard by the members of two families. So which one are you from?”

Drun shook his head. “I...I don’t know. I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” He heard Ada whimper again. She looked like she was about to pass out. “Listen...we just recently found out we were part Mefni. My sister is injured really bad. Can you please help her?”

The group exchanged looks for a moment before the leader gave a nod. “Okay. But not without answering some questions.”

Drun nodded. “Yeah, of course. Thank you.”

0000000000000

“Lazuroth, huh? You must be from the Zehara clan then,” the man (who was names Brix) told them after Drun told him about what had lead them here. “The head of it, Viggo, was captured for some time back by the queen.” He seemed to notice the horrified look on Drun’s face. “Don’t worry. We know there’s been a new queen in charge for years. We may look primitive, but we just like being more one with nature is all.”

Drun nodded as they entered the village. It was strange, towers of lit up dwellings spinning around the trees around them. The lights were of recent technology but for the homes themselves seemed to almost blend in with the wood of the large, tall trees. Brix led them to one of the bigger ones of the ground, which upon entry looked very much like the med bays Drun had become accustomed to.

He carefully laid his currently unconscious sister on the nearest bed, where she was immediately surrounded by staff. One of the, a girl who looked to be around Ada’s age, tilted her head. “She’s cute.”

“Rejika,” One of the older staff members scolded.

“I’m just saying!” Rejika replied. She looked back at Drun with a smile. “Your sister’s in good hands. Don’t worry.”

Drun nodded. “Thank you.” He turned back to Brix. “Could you like...explain what’s going on? You obviously know what this...Call is. But I...I don’t understand why it’s calling us or...anything else you just asked about.”

“Oh so that’s why you’re here,” Rejika said as she began placing an I.V catheter in Ada’s arm. “I was wondering why some strange aliens would be on our planet. We barely get people here for trades, let alone for some kind of vacation.”

Brix sighed, giving Rejika a look. Drun, however, was curious. “So you know about the Call, too?”

“Pfft. Everyone knows about the Call,” Rejika explained. “It’s just that only a few of us can hear it. Ooh! Which clan are you from, then?”

“Um…” Drun turned back to Brix. He had already forgotten.

“Zehara,” Brix replied.

“Really? Sweet!” Rejika replied. “My friend Lumi is from that clan. So I guess she’d be like...your cousin or something?”

Drun’s eyes widened and his antennae perked up. “Really? Do..do you know where I could find them?”

“Oh yeah they-”

Brix suddenly cleared his throat, silencing Rejika. He turned to Drun. “You have to keep in mind that...they may not want much to do with you considering...well considering who your grandmother is. Not to mention the Call comes they tend to haul up somewhere where they can muffle it. The Ozynites are the same way.”

Drun’s antennae drooped. “Well...can’t blame them for that. But...can you at least tell me what this is about. I just...why is my family being called at all.”

Brix sighed. “You sure you wanna know?”

“I’m positive. I...I’m supposed to be here. I just don’t know why.”

Brix looked up at Rejika, as if to tell her to get back to work. She sighed but went to completely focusing on Ada. Brix waved his hands and Drun watched with fascination as water flowed from them in different shapes around them. The began to form that of settings, buildings, people, moving around to Brix’s words.

“Several generations back, our planet was ruled by two clans. The Zeharas and the Ozynites. For years these clans were rivals, constantly finding any excuse to fight with one another. Until one day, a couple of new heads of the family came into power, deciding perhaps it was time to bury the hatchet.

They decided to arrange a marriage between the oldest Ozynite daughter and the second oldest Zehara son. A few people showed concerned, because the bride possessed the most unpredictable and rare element of our kind.” His water turned orangey red and rippled around. “Fire.”

Drun blinked. “Is it really?” He suddenly thought of Addie, and her ability to change flame into different colors.

Brix nodded. “Yes. However, the Ozynites assured the Zeharas that the bride had impeccable control of her powers, and that any offspring the two had would most definitely be strong and powerful.

“At first, it seemed the match was prepared well. The bride and groom got along swimmingly, and it seemed there would be finally be peace between these warring clans. However, it was not to be.

“The day before the wedding, the groom was found burnt to death at the feet of the would be bride.”

Drun actually gasped. Yes, it sounded like some old tale that probably had some kind of meaning to it or whatnot, but that actually had shocked him. He never thought of his sister’s powers as any more or less dangerous than his own. “Did...did she lose control.”

Brix shrugged. “Some say yes. Some say it was intentional. Either way it sparked a battle that lasted for days. The bride herself nearly killed so many people during before finally being subdued.

“Ever since then, even after both clans lost the power they had to time, they have never tried to reconcile again. Not that they fight in the street, persay. But they’re not inviting each other over for dinner or anything.”

“Heck, during this time we don’t see members of either family,” Rejika said, finally done getting Ada hooked up to her pain meds, nanites, and antibiotics. “The Call can be pretty overwhelming. At least that’s what Lumi tells me.”

“That story doesn’t explain why there’s a Call in the first place. Why is it calling? Who is it?”

“No one knows,” Brix replied. “Some say that ever since that great battle that because so many Mefni were slain that day, it created an imbalance and the Call is sort of a punishing reminder of what the families caused.”

Drun frowned. That...didn’t seem right. This couldn’t be just some..punishment of sorts caused by his ancestors. At least...it certainly didn’t feel like it. No...something was calling him to action. He could feel it in his bones.

Ah ahh ah ahhh~

His antennae perked back up and he found himself looking over his shoulder. He narrowed his eyes. “What’s in that direction?” Drun asked.

Brix and Rejika exchanged glances before the girl answered. “It’s where the town of Madej once stood-”

‘Rejika!” Brix scolded.

“Look. I know you old folk like to pretend that any inconvenience will just pass on it’s own, but you can’t deny the way the erratic the weather has been! The rivers running backwards? How it will snow in one place but not five feet away it’ll dry up and catch fire.” She narrowed her eye. “The planet has been out of balance for years because two families decided to just kill one another! And honestly, if he thinks he can stop then, hell, let him!”

“There is nothing to stop. This isn’t some curse to be broken! We simply all just need to be more devout in our offerings and-,”

“Yeah, sure, whatever. You clearly haven’t been around someone when they’re hearing the Call. You ever have to stay up all night with someone while they cry and beg and pray and wish it would stop? Hmm? Didn’t think so.”

Drun couldn’t help but look over back at his sister. She seemed so peaceful right now, asleep and resting. He was glad they’d found people to help her. He was not like his mother. He had no idea how to deal with a splinter let alone a broken ankle. He was suddenly reminded of how she was acting when they’d finally decided to come here. “Make it stop. How do we make it stop?”

Ah ahh ah ahhh~

Drun took a deep breath, rising to his feet. “Do you mind keeping an eye on my sister while I’m gone? She’ll probably be mad I left her, but she can’t come with, obviously.”

“You can’t possibly be serious-,”

“I have to know why I’m here. Why the Call crossed over galaxies and star systems to make sure my family heard it, too.” He looked to Rejika. She seemed like she’d be more help. “I could use a map or something to help me get to Madej. Or where it used to be, I guess.”

Rejika pulled out her phone. “I can give you the coordinates Will that be enough?”

Drun beamed. “That’s perfect. Thank you.”

“No problem!” She shot a quick look at Ada before giving Drun a grin. “So...is your sister single?”

0000000000000000

Meanwhile, on the other side of the ash ridden valley that was once the town of Madej, a young half-Mefni found himself sneaking around the small town he’d found himself in, scouring for supplies and information. He’d heard how feared and mistreated fire users are, so he knows if he’s caught, it could spell his doom.

He had to find the town of Madej. That was where the voice was coming. That was where the answers would be.

He could only hope that his mother and father didn’t become too angry at him for taking off...

Ah ahh ah ahhh~

#[Denivar Dynasty}#(( heh heh heh ))

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actuallylorelaigilmore · 5 years

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you can ebb and i can flow (and we’ll take it slow)

Single Parents fanfic, Will x Angie. No warnings apply, also on AO3.

Fictober #19, “Yes, I admit it, you were right.” + this ask from @outfieldlove

****

After the last of the wedding stragglers left--it was them, of course, just the five of them in the Winebrary reluctant to begin their childless summers--Poppy closed the shop for the night.

“You wanna go back up and look at the stars some more?”

Angie was comfortably tipsy, leaning on Will a little as they walked to his car. She blamed the party buzz for the extra time it took her to realize she’d left her coat inside.

How did she leave wearing a chicken hat but forget her coat? One day without Graham and she was already losing her mind.

“Sure,” Will agreed. “Hey, where are you--”

Angie froze a few feet away from his car, then gestured toward Poppy’s business. “I left my coat in there, and now I can’t go get it.”

“Because...”

“Because Poppy and Douglas are still in there, and now they’re in there alone, and it’s probably weird because it was Ron’s wedding but this is like...their first date. I don’t want to interrupt that. I want to stay out of that.”

“Okay, but you also said you want to hang out under the stars. It’s going to be chilly up there, Angie. It’s nighttime.”

“What am I, five? I’ll be fine. Let’s just go.”

“Do I have to remind you that I am an actual weatherman on KZOP?”

“Never,” Angie muttered, while Will continued talking over her. “You never have to remind me. Please stop reminding me.”

“I would be remiss if I did not point out that you’re looking at lows of sixty-two degrees tonight, and it will feel even colder up there because of the wind.”

“It gets cold when the sun goes down. Got it. Come on, Will!”

The drive wasn’t long, and the spot overlooking LA was peaceful, especially without the rustling of Ratso’s drive through bags. Angie gave up looking for a comfortable position on the hood of Will’s car and laid down flat, staring up at the stars.

It would probably make her dizzy from that angle if she were still tipsy, but instead it was nice.

Will didn’t waste time like she did, laying half on his side so he could see both the stars and her, as though he were waiting for her to speak.

Which she did, so maybe that wasn’t surprising.

“That was weird, huh?”

“What?”

“The wedding.”

“Because it was at a Winebrary, or because they’re taking Rory on the honeymoon?”

“Yeah, both. But no, I meant, it was weird being at their wedding when we barely know them. Weddings are weird enough when you care about the bride or the groom, but Ron’s just...that guy Poppy’s better off without, and I don’t even know his fiance.”

“I guess that was weird.” Will was quiet for a minute. “I thought you were gonna say Douglas and Poppy getting together.”

“Oh, that. Nah, I knew about that. I told you--well, I sort of did.”

“You did not.”

“I did too! You wanted to know who she was dating, and I almost told you about Douglas. But I didn’t, I thought it wasn’t happening.”

“Right, right. I remember.” Will shifted onto his back, his shoulder touching hers.

“It’s not that weird, is it? Them together? I think they’re kind of cute. I want Poppy to be happy.”

“Me too,” he agreed. “They’re just...so different. Y’know? Their politics, their parenting styles, he’s like twice as tall as she is.”

“Well, we all have different politics. And parenting styles. I think it’s good, we bring our own stuff to the table and meet in the middle. It makes us better.”

“Yeah, as a modern village.”

Angie elbowed him for using that word. He’d expected worse.

“But we’re not dating.”

Will’s words lingered in the air before he heard how they sounded and rushed to overcorrect.

“The five of us, I mean! All of us, parents. Not you and me. Our whole...tribe.”

He wasn’t sure how much of a difference there really was between tribe and village, but Angie didn’t say anything about what a nerd he was.

She sat up instead, rubbing her arms. “Your car does not make a warm hangout spot, man, I gotta say.”

“Cold?”

“A little.”

“I tried to tell you. You had a perfectly good coat!”

Angie sighed, her reluctant words pulled from deep down. “Yes, I admit it, you were right.”

“Wow. That must have been hard for you.”

“Shut up.”

Will covered his laugh with a cough. “Next time, will you listen to my weather advice?”

“Probably not. Give me your shirt.”

He sat up, torn between startled and offended. “No!”

“You’ve got three layers on, Will, including that flannel, and I am sitting in the dark and windy Los Angeles night, wearing just this one long-sleeved shirt. Are you really going to be so selfish as to leave me shivering here? What happened to chivalry? What happened to friendship?”

“What happened to the jacket you could’ve brought with you?” Will retorted.

He was already shrugging his coat off.

****

“Morning!”

Angie flinched in the doorway and responded with a hand gesture that frankly, Will found both rude and unnecessary. But he knew her well enough to know all she meant by it was ‘take it down a notch please.’

He patted her on the shoulder as he entered, a silent apology.

“How’s Graham?”

“Whiny.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right. It sucks to be sick at his age.”

“It sucks to be sick in general,” Angie countered. “It sucks to be his mom when he’s sick at this age.”

She looked better than she had two days ago when he came by to help with the laundry and some food prep. She was wearing normal clothes today, and managed to brush her hair.

Despite the D’Amato family’s collective whining--that thought made him smile a little--Will gave them three more days before Graham was back in the carpool.

“I brought the forms you need to fill out, and I can watch him for a couple hours if you want a break. Get some fresh air, maybe buy your own groceries? Whatever helps.”

“Awesome.”

Angie took a deep breath, sighed it back out. When she opened her eyes, she narrowed them at Will.

Graham might be on the mend, but she was clearly off her game if it took her this long to notice.

“Will Cooper, what are you wearing?”

He snuck a look down before he answered, hit with the sudden inexplicable worry that maybe he forgot pants.

Nope, fully dressed from head to toe.

“Clothes?”

Angie’s reply held as much patience as she could manage at 8 a.m. on day five of having Graham home sick. It was the same voice she’d directed at Graham when he wanted to make his own breakfast before Will showed up.

“Yes, but whose clothes?”

Frowning, Will checked more thoroughly this time. Shoes, socks, pants, shirt, flannel. Whose clothes, he scoffed silently. He was wearing them, wasn’t he? He’d sorted the laundry himself.

“Angie, what are you talking about? I’m wearing my clothes. These are men’s clothes!”

It had been a rough week for her, he thought, not without sympathy. She was barely sleeping with Graham awake all night. Anybody could have an off day. Why that off day needed to include mocking his wardrobe was beyond him--but this was Angie. That wasn’t exactly unusual for her.

“Close,” she said. “Those are almost men’s clothes. That flannel shirt is mine.”

“I-it’s--” Will sputtered long enough to feel ridiculous, then gave up. It was an easy thing to check.

Angie bit down on what she was thinking while he pulled off the flannel and reached for the tag.

Will only looked mildly defeated as he handed it over.

“Okay, so I was wearing a women’s XL. Big deal. I’m very secure in my masculinity.”

“Sure you are. You still stole my shirt.”

“I didn’t steal it! I borrowed it, accidentally. And only because I did your laundry, you know.”

Through the heavy exhaustion of the last week, and the amusement that was brightening her morning, Angie finally cracked a smile. “Yeah, I know. Did I remember to thank you for that?”

“No, you did not.”

“Well, thanks.”

She made a face as she pulled the shirt on over her sick-day outfit. “Jeez, it’s so warm!”

“Nobody said you had to put it on. Wear one of your twenty other flannel shirts.”

Angie frowned. “No. It’s kinda nice once you get used to it.”

There was a beat of silence while Will looked at Angie looking at him, wearing the shirt that he’d been pretty happy thinking was his five minutes ago.

That was happening more this year--the silence, not just Will losing his shirts.

Angie broke first.

“Want to stay for breakfast?”

“Hey, like I said, you’ve got me for two hours. If you want to spend that time making me breakfast instead of enjoying a world free of vomiting, that is your prerogative.”

“Eh, I can go out after breakfast.” She sat down and crossed her arms. “Which I never said I would cook.”

“Fine, I’ll make breakfast. Did Graham eat yet?”

“Not yet. He might be able to handle some toast.”

“Gotcha.” Will started pulling things out of her cupboards. “Toast and...waffles?”

Angie hugged her red flannel a little tighter. It was like fresh out of the dryer. Cozy.

“Waffles would be good.”

#fictober19 #single parents #angie x will #will x angie #the amount of time i spent flipping between 1.23 and 2.01 to check my memories #i tell you...even with less editing i take this all way too seriously #anyway yeah today we're trying something new folks in which i post a thing i wrote the SAME DAY #instead of editing it for a week so...here you go #single parents fic #angie x will fic #outfieldlove #my fic

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cssns · 5 years

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Hello everyone! We are BAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!!!

It is that time again! Time for the monthly roundup for July and to look ahead to what’s coming up in August!

So y’all buckle up! We will start with those fics and art that dropped in July, then highlight the MC’s that updated in July. We will end the post with what we have to look forward to for the rest of the event! We had some INCREDIBLE fics and art drop in July and we have a lot more to look forward to in August! Make sure and let the authors and artists know how much you’re enjoying their hard work!!! So without further ado, HERE WE GOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

@snowbellewells started us off this month with Face to Face in the Broad Daylight, a sequel to her CSSNS submission from last year, Run to Me (In the Dead of Night). Beautiful artwork by @branlovestowrite! Rated T with 4 chapters so far.

@thejollyroger-writer gave us Love After Death: The Afterlife Hotel. A one shot and a bit of a different take on the soulmate trope with absolutely perfect artwork by @captainsjedi.

Emma Swan has spent sixty years in the afterlife believing she was never going to meet her real soulmate, after believing in the wrong name tattooed on her wrist. But when she keeps seeing the same new guest of the Afterlife Hotel around, might she be able to learn how to love again? Rated T

@gingerchangeling presented us with Luck of the Irish with lovely artwork by @resident-of-storybrooke

Emma needs parent volunteer hours. So she offers to chaperon Henry's upcoming field trip to the museum. Its just a pack of prepubescent angst ridden children, an exhibit about dead people, and a rock used in blood sacrifices with a curse carved into it. What's the worst that could happen? Rated M with 1 chapter so far.

@jarienn972 gave us A Simple Spell with beautiful artwork by @cocohook38

This story is my entry into the 2019 Captain Swan Supernatural Summer event and is my first venture into AU territory. Storybrooke remains our setting but I've switched up some of the characters and familial relations to better suit this tale of prodigal witch Emma who returns to her birthplace to learn lots of secrets about herself and cast a spell that could change everything. Rated T with 3 chapters so far.

@profdanglaisstuff presented us with The Very Witching Time with incredible artwork by @gingerchangeling and extra artwork by @mariakov81.

Emma Swan is a hereditary witch, last in a long line of wise women who for centuries have guarded the coast of Maine and the small village of Storybrooke with their homemade cures and their ancient magic. She holds the delicate balance between magic and mundane, but now that balance is threatened by a new foe, one capable of bringing an end to everything Emma is and everything she loves. To defeat it she will need all her power, help from her friends and neighbours, and the loyalty of a very unusual dog who answers to the name of Killian. Rated M with 3 of 4 chapters so far.

@searchingwardrobes gave us An Education in Southern Gothic with some seriously spooky artwork by @hollyethecurious

Fact: there’s a graveyard between the football field and the science building. Debatable: a ghost haunts the halls of Misthaven Hills High. Emma Swan is about to get an education. Killian Jones is about to get a whole lot more. Rated T COMPLETE

@spartanguard presented us with Sick of Love with lovely artwork by @sherlockianwhovian

If Emma’s not careful, she just might bump into her soulmate. Physically. And while she might like the idea of what comes with that—an almost psychic connection whenever they make skin contact—she’d rather not deal with the awful withdrawal sickness that can come when they inevitably leave her; she’s got a son, so she doesn’t have time for that. So she keeps herself covered and thinks she’ll be okay. Until she meets Killian, who does the same thing. Will their barriers protect them, or just hurt them more? Rated M with 2 of 3 chapters so far.

@snidgetsafan gave us Whom the Gods Love Die Young with beautiful artwork by @tennant-the-tigger

The bride bit into the shiny red apple as everyone cheered around her, the wedding ceremony ending with this ritual gesture. The clapping and hurrahs soon turned to screams of horror as Snow dropped the apple, choking and clutching her throat as she fell in her groom’s arms, a last I love you leaving her lips before she died, David’s screams the loudest of all.

David and Emma travel to the Underworld to claim back Snow after her untimely death. In order to do so, they're going to have to face the dark and mysterious God of the Underworld and complete his challenges.

Seems simple enough until you add magic, divine quarrels, and the worst thing of all: feelings. Rated G (for the moment) with one chapter so far

@snowbellewells gave us a second fic this month as well! A Story Told at Last with gorgeous artwork by @branlovestowrite

Historical Literature Professor Henry Mills has the chance of a lifetime before him. He might finally uncover the truth of a folktale that has intrigued him for years. But, when the whole story comes to light, will he be able to accept the story that needs to be told? Rated T with a prologue so far and two parts yet to come.

@thejollyroger-writer gifted us a second fic this month too! What Happened in Berkshire. Artwork coming soon by @captainsjedi.

When Emma’s boyfriend leaves her for the woman he’s been cheating with, she accepts an offer from her hospital to move to England. While she is out celebrating her thirtieth birthday with her friends before they head back to America, she drunkenly kisses the statue of Captain Hook in front of Eton College, and he comes to life. Together, he and Emma try to figure out what this curse means for them by searching for the witch that cursed him in the first place — are they really True Love, as he wants to believe they are, or did Emma’s magic go awry? Rated G with one chapter so far. Part 2 coming soon.

We also had original art drop from @eastwesthomeisbest called The Love of the Samodiva Pts1 and 2.

In Bulgarian folklore Samodiva is an ethereal female wood nymph. She is unearthly beautiful and eternally young. Her hair is blond and long, her waist is thin and petite, her eyes can bewitch and dazzle or even kill. Any man who lays eyes on her instantly falls in love. Samodivas’ attire consists of long white gowns and shirts and a rainbow-coloured or green belt. They have a white mantel, also called a shadow, in which their power lies. They like to ride deer, using twisted snakes for reins and often carry with them bows and arrows.

If a huntsman accidentally kills a samodiva’s deer, she will make him blind or give him a disease which will inevitably lead to his death.

The wood nymphs live in dark forests, in big old trees, caves or forgotten huts which are near water sources, wells or rivers.

Samodivas can be spotted from spring to autumn. In winter they live in the mythical village Zmeykovo, which is located at the edge of the world and is a home to many mythical creatures. When they are on earth they are active at night and disappear immediately when the sun comes out, because they fear it.

At twilight, the samodivas go to fresh water sources, strip naked, wash themselves and their clothes which they lay out to dry in the moonlight. They keep a watchful eye on their drying clothes, because if a man steals their mantle, where their power lies, they turn into normal women and have to obey the man. After washing themselves and their clothes, the samodivas gather around and start singing and dancing. It is known that the samodiva’s songs are the most beautiful and their dances are the most graceful. If a late traveller sees the samodivas’ dance, he is enticed to join them and dances with them from midnight to dawn. When the sun’s rays appear, the nymphs disappear in haste and leave the traveller to die from exhaustion. The samodivas love music and often kidnap shepherds, so that they can play kaval (shepherd’s pipe) for them while they dance.

Samodivas are not always harmful. Sometimes they appear like normal working women and help with the harvest. They would especially help women with children. If a man does something good for a samodiva, she becomes his patron or a sworn sister. Sometimes, a samodiva can fall in love with a human and bear him children, who grow up to be great heroes.

Samodivas are forest creatures and therefore knowledgeable about herbs and cures. However, they never share their secrets willingly. The only way to obtain their knowledge is to eavesdrop on one of their gatherings.

As you can see, we’ve had wonderful fics and art drop this month! And we also had several fics from June update, and also 2 fics from last years event!!!

@welllpthisishappening updated All Was Golden in the Sky many times! The story is complete and she updates regularly on Tuesday and Friday. We are about a third of the way through the entire fic. Ch 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 Artwork by @resident-of-storybrooke and chapter art 1 2 4 5 6 7 8 9 by @distant-rose

@let-it-raines had been updating Not Your (Soul)Mate chs 4 5 6 7 8 with artwork 1 2 3 by @captainsjedi.

@darkcolinodonorgasm updated One Day for us ch2 with gorgeous artwork by @sherlockianwhovian

Our two updated fics from last years event come to us courtesy of @kymbersmith-90 Divine Intervention ch7 with artwork by @hollyethecurious

and

@seriouslyhooked Lost Souls and Reveries ch19 with artwork by @shipsxahoy.

So that is all the fics and art that dropped or updated last month! And now, let’s look ahead to what we have to look forward to for the rest of the event!

Tomorrow @courtorderedcake will be dropping her first fic for the event Hallow with accompanying artwork. Her second fic, Roses will drop on Aug. 24 with artwork by @eastwesthomeisbest.

@searchingwardrobes will be dropping a Cupid and Psyche AU on Aug. 6, Until the Day Breaks and the Shadows Flee. Artwork by @hollyethecurious.

@ilovemesomekillianjones will be dropping a soulmate AU on Aug. 8. Artwork by @spartanguard.

@pirateherokillian will be dropping a modern day gods AU on Aug. 15. Artwork by @tennant-the-tigger.

@thejollyroger-writer will be dropping a THIRD one shot for us on Aug. 18. Artwork by @captainsjedi.

@wyntereyez will be dropping a werewolf Killian fic on Aug. 20. Artwork by @gingerchangeling.

@kymbersmith-90 will be dropping her fic on Aug 22. Artwork by @resident-of-storybrooke.

@whimsicallyenchantedrose will be dropping a Lord of the Rings inspired AU on Aug. 27. Artwork by @clockadile.

@lizzyc807shipscaptainswan will be dropping a vampire guardian angel fic on Aug. 29. Artwork by @courtorderedcake.

@teamhook will be closing out the event with her fic dropping on Sept. 2 Artwork by @hollyethecurious.

Ohhhh my WORD!!! Do we have some good stuff coming up!!!! I can’t wait for all this!!!! And of course, our other WIP’s will continue to update as well! Make sure that you let the authors and artists know how much you are enjoying their work! Sometimes it’s exactly that that keeps them motivated and posting! I’ll see you back here in a little over a month for the event roundup with links to everything that’s been posted since we started in June! Until then y’all!

#cssns #Second wave roundup #July roundup #roundup post #monthly roundup #Third wave preview #August preview #preview post #monthly preview

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