Chapter Text
The nest, though it wasn't anywhere near cold, felt unbearably empty. Atsumu refuses to open his eyes, blindly groping around for a pillow and mushing his face on its firm surface.
The pillow lets out a surprised huff, rising and falling in deep, steady motions. He's never letting this pillow go.
…..?
He blinks in confusion, a barely there thought forming in his head.
Sleep, his omega chirrs, completely comfortable in their current situation.
Against his instincts, he pries his eyes open, finding himself draped across a warm body.
A warm, shirtless body.
He can feel the flush rising to his cheeks, a strange squeak coming out of his mouth, completely unbidden.
Atsumu feels a light squeeze from the arm wrapped around his waist and he looks up, meeting Kiyoomi’s dark eyes, hair still tousled from sleep.
Oh, his eyes are forest green in the morning light.
He admits he may have been too distracted by his new realization to register Kiyoomi’s hand moving up from his waist to his bicep, rubbing slow circles, tapping lightly to get his attention.
The movement turns him to putty, and he lets out a small chirp, all embarrassment forgotten in the face of the soft touches.
Kiyoomi taps his arm again, drawing his gaze back his face.
“Did you sleep well?”, he writes.
Maybe it’s the haze from the leftover fringes of sleep, or affectionate greeting that woke him up, but Atsumu feels strangely emboldened as he reaches into the scant space between them and writes on Kiyoomi’s chest, directly over his heart.
“I did. Why are you up already?”
The muted scratch of his nails against skin makes Kiyoomi shiver, making him tighten his hold ever so slightly on Atsumu. His omega preens in approval, almost chiding Atsumu for not doing this sooner.
Warm, it purrs. Safe, pretty, omi, omi, omi, omi—
I get it, he shoots back without any real heat, feeling shy and triumphant at the same time. Knowing he had this much hold over Kiyoomi delights him, but he’s not ready to examine that yet.
“Someone”, Kiyoomi writes back, eyes glittering with amusement, “insisted that I make his pie today, so I have to be up to gather the berries.”
Atsumu scoffs in mock indignation. “What terrible manners.”
A canine reveals itself as Kiyoomi grins, his fingers inching lower as he continues to write. “You think so? Maybe you’re right, someone ought to teach him some etiquette.”
He nods seriously, digging a nail hard enough to tease skin. “It can be forgiven; pies are considered to be a very important matter.”
He feels the vibration against the palm of his hand as the alpha laughs, pulling Atsumu flush against him, nuzzling his hair. The urge to scent him back tides over his omega, and he lets a trickle of his scent out to see if Kiyoomi would allow him.
Even without his ability to hear in this form; the low, constant rumble that the alpha emits is enough to tell him that his actions are not unwelcome.
Atsumu can feel lips moving against his temple, but he barely pays it any attention, far too busy in lathering Kiyoomi in his scent.
Nest, his omega yips, tails fanning out as it stretches itself out in bliss. Alpha, alpha, omi, omi, omi, so, so good.
He has a feeling that Kiyoomi will have no objections in spending a little more time staying in bed.
---
Kiyoomi’s been stalling and he knows it.
And by the creeping vines that keep dropping invitations on his bed, Tooru knows as well.
The thing is, he doesn’t even know how to bring it up to Atsumu. What would he even say?
“Hey, do you want to come with me to the land under the hill, which is a dangerous place, even for me by the way, to see my bitchy-ass ally/friend who will probably take one look at you and either want to use you as a pawn in court politics or become your gossip buddy and talk shit about me all the time?”
Goddess above, that would be mortifying.
Then there was the issue of what Kiyoomi now dubs as the “limbo”.
It’s confusing, since he doesn’t know what or what not to do in the presence of the omega. Over the course of the last week, he has discovered that while Atsumu adores cuddling—his alpha preens like a damned peacock every single time it happens, it’s not doing wonders for his patience or his sanity—he doesn’t appreciate sudden movements or touches, especially if it comes from a blind spot. The scratch marks on Kiyoomi’s cheek that Atsumu fussed over days after it faded was a startling reminder of that.
And then there was the scenting.
It was absolutely maddening that Atsumu had already taken to sleeping in Kiyoomi’s room, writing that it would be a waste to transfer his nest to his room when it was perfectly formed in Kiyoomi’s bed.
Which was fine; absolutely fucking fine, if the omega didn’t insist on asking him to sleep in his goddess damned nest.
It was cruel, really, offering a starving man a feast that he could only guard over, not devour.
But nooooo, that wasn’t enough for his endearing, exasperating little vixen.
Atsumu had now taken to wearing his shirts, even going as far as to shyly ask Kiyoomi to scent it for him one morning, doe eyes completely wide, its shine brighter than the purest gold Kiyoomi has ever seen.
What was he supposed to do to that, say no?
His alpha huffs a warning at him, and he barely registers it before he feels arms winding around his waist, a face nuzzling in between his shoulder blades. He grabs the tan arms that have been kissed by the sun, a product of Atsumu’s constant day trips, and rubs their wrists together, allowing their scents to intertwine.
“̸̛̙̙"̠̲̲̳̿Ō̠̱̳͟m̳̿̅͟͞ī̲̠̱͟? ̠̱̱̅͞"̲̠̅̿͟, he whines, voice high. "̠̿̿̅͟H̱̠̳͟͟u̳̱̠̅̅ṉ̳̲̿͞g̿̄̄͟͟r̳̱̳̅͟y̳̱̿̅̄. ̱̄̅͟͟"̳̲̳̿̄
He laughs under his breath, indulging the adorable menace. HIs alpha is standing in rapt attention, waiting eagerly to provide anything the omega wanted. Kiyoomi curses inwardly, Tooru’s words replaying in his head. If he was this beguiling without even trying, how much of a minx was he going to be when he finds out that Kiyoomi would offer the world at his feet if he just asked?
“What do you want for dinner?”, he writes.
Atsumu chirps, delighted, scribbling something about cream, potatoes, and for some reason, a whole duck.
He lets himself be pulled towards the kitchen, crumpling the invitation he plucked from the sprawling ivy outside his window.
Let the priestess wait, his god was famished, and he needed to cook up a feast.
---
Atsumu knows something’s up, and for all his endless needling, he can’t fathom what.
He’s curious, sure, but he’s more concerned that Kiyoomi was going to trip over himself and roll down the mountain because he keeps staring at him all day rather than paying attention to the trail.
Atsumu stops abruptly, grabbing the alpha’s arm and frog-marching him to a relatively clean tree stump, making him sit. He puts his hands on his hips, digging on for a long conversation.
"̳̠̠̿͟T̠̳̅͟͞ē̠̲̄͞ḻ̲̿͟͟l̳̲̲̠͟ ̳̿̿̄͟m̱̲̲̠̿e̠̅̅̿͞ ̲̄̅͟͞w̲̲̳̄͟h̳̅͟͟͞a̳̅̄̅͟t̠̿̅̄͟'̲̠̿̄͞s̠̅̄̅̄ ̳̱̅̄͞w̳̠̅̅͞r̲̅̄̄͟ō̠͟͟͞n̳̲̲͟͞g̠̲̲̿͟.̲̲̿͟͟ ̠̠̠̲͟Ȳ̱̅͟͞o̲̠̿͟͞u̱̲̿̿͞'̳̱̳̳̅v̲̲̱͟͟e̲̅̿̿̄ ̲̄̄̅̿b̠̲̲̱͟e̿̄̅͟͞e̲̲̠̿̅ṉ̳̲̄͟ ̳̲̠̱͞s̳̲̄̿͞u̲̳̅̅̅ḻ̲̄̿͟k̄̄̿͞͞i̳̠̅̅͟n̲̠̄͟͞g̠̲̅̄͞ ̠̲̄͟͞f̲̳͟͟͞ō̱̲̳͞ṟ̿̿̅͞ ̲̲̱̄̅d̳̲̲̅͞a̱͟͟͟͞y̠̅͟͞͞s̲̱̱̅̅,̱̿̄̅͟ ̳̳̠̄̿d̠̿̅̄͞ō̲̳̄͟n̲̠̅̅͟'̱̠̲̄̅t̠̱̄̿͞ ̲̱̅̅̿t̠̿̅̅͟e̠̲̿̅͟l̠̅͟͟͞l̠̠̱̱̅ ̲̿̄̅̅m̲̅͟͟͟e̱̠̲̅͞ ̳̅̅͟͞i̳̱̱̿͟t̳̳̳̱͟'̳̳̿̅͞s̿̿̿̄͟ ̱̄̿̅͞n̳̳̿̅̅o̠̅̅̄͞t̳̠̠̿͞ẖ̱̠̅̅i̳̿̄͟͞n̿̿̄͟͟g̱̿̿̅̿,̠̲̿̿̅ ̳̅͟͟͟ḇ̱̳̅̿ē̳̠̄̄c̲̱̿̄͟a̲̅̿̅͞u̲̱̅̄͞s̱̠̿̅̅e̲̱̅͞͞ ̱̄̿͟͞i̳̠̱̲̿f̳̅̅̄͞ ̠̿̿͟͞ī̳̿̄̅t̲̅̅͞͞ ̳̠̄̄͞w̳̲̿̿̄a̠̠̲̿̿s̲̳̲̿͞ ̱̿̄͟͞ȳ̠̱̲͟ō̳̿͟͞u̠̱̠͟͟ ̱̳̳̿̿w̳̲̿̄̅o̿̄̄͟͞ū̳̲̠͞ḻ̱̠̅̅d̠̳̅̅͟n̄̅̄͟͟'̠̿̅͟͞t̠̲̅͟͟ ̅̿̄̿͞ḇ̄̄̄̅ē̠̲̱̱ ̱̳̿̄͟t̳̿͟͞͞h̲̠̿̿͞i̳̳̿̿͟s̳̿͟͞͞ ̠̠̱̿͟m̠̲̲͞͞o̅̅͟͟͞r̲̲̅̿̿o̠̿͟͟͞s̠̿̄̿̅e̱̿̿̿̄.̠̳̳̅̿"̳̠̄͟͞
It’s been a few weeks since he started using his voice around Kiyoomi, but the decades of silence made him uncomfortable with speaking for long lengths of time. The fact that he spoke more three words at once was a miracle in of itself.
Kiyoomi sighs, putting his head in his hands. "̲̲̿̅͞I̲̳̳̱̿t̲̱̳̿̿'̱͟͞͞͞s̲̳̱̅͟. ̳̅̿͟͞.̲̱̅͞͞.̱̲̅̄̿T̳̱͟͟͞h̳̲̱̅͞ē̳̱̄̅r̳̲̄̿͟e̠̅̅̅͞'̲̳̳̅̄s̠̲̠̅̄ ̱̲̳̱̅a̳̠̱̱͟ ̳̳̅͟͞b̲̄̿̿͞o̅͟͟͟͞t̳̳̄͟͞h̠̠̱̳͟e̱̲̿͟͞r̠̲̳̠̄s̳̠̳̿͞o̲̲̲͟͞m̳̲̿̅̿e̱̲̿̿̄ ̳̲̳̄͟r̠̿̅͟͟e̳̅̅̄̿q̳̠̳̿̄u̠̲̅͟͞ē̱̲̱̿s̱̄̄̅͞t̳̱̿̿͞ ̠̿̅̄͟f̠̱̳̅̅ṟ̿̅͟͞o̱̠̳̠̿m̱̳͟͞͞.̳̲̿̿̄.̠̠̳͟͟.̳̲̅̅͟ā̱̲̳̄ ̳̲̅̄̅f̠̳̠̅̄r̠̿̅͞͞i̱̳̿͟͞e̠̲̱̅͟n̳̳̿̄̿d̲̱̅̅͞ ̲̳̄̿͟o̱̲̳̱͟f̳̅̿̿͟ ̲̱̄͟͟m̠̲̅͞͞i̱̱̲͞͞n̳̳̠̱͟e̲̳̿̅͞.̲̲̱̿̄"̱̄̄̅͞
He raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.
The alpha sighs again, this time in defeat and opens his arms. "̲̱̿̄̅Ā̠̳̿̅ḻ̱̅̅̿ṟ̅̄͟͞i̱̲̱̅͟g̱̿̿̿͟h̠̲̿̿̿t̳̱̿̄͞, ̳̄̄̅͟ ̳̠̲̳̿s̱̠̠̲͟h̳̄̿͞͞ī̳̱̱̄f̱̱̄͟͞ṯ̲̳̿̅ ̱̅̄̄͟a̲̿̅̅̿ṉ̲̱͟͟d̠̠̿͟͞ ̱̄̅͞͞I̳̱̳̠̅'̱̱̅̿̿ḻ̱̄̅̅ḻ̱̿͟͞ ̳̲̳̱̿t̠̲̅̄͞e̲̳̿̄̄l̲̳̄͟͞l̲̱̠̄̿ ̲̄̄̅͟ȳ̠̄͞͞o̲̅̿̅͞ū̱̠̱̠. ̱̠̲̠͞"̱̄̄̄͟
Well, when he puts it like that…
Atsumu lets his omega take over his shift, feeling the familiar energy course over him. He opens his eyes and almost loses himself in the cacophony of sounds. The forest is teeming with life, and he is accosted with a whole other world all at once.
Watch, his omega says, anchoring him. Listen.
His ears twitch as he meets Kiyoomi’s eyes who stays still, waiting for him to make a move. He focuses on the alpha’s heartbeat, slow and steady and grounding amidst all the noise.
Then the fox clambers up his leg, settling comfortably on Kiyoomi’s lap as the alpha brushes his fur for him.
His omega purrs, pleased.
Atsumu, however, rolls over and nips at his fingers, waiting.
“If I asked you to come with me to a, uh, festival, full of…creatures sort of like me, would you want to go?”
He perks up, interested. A curious paw scrabbles at the collar of his shirt, insistent.
“They’re ah, not exactly like you and me. But they’re close enough I guess.”
Atsumu chuffs, head tilted minutely to the side. Kiyoomi lifts his hand to under the fox’s chin, scratching. His omega approves.
“If I had to describe them, well I think they’d be the sort of creatures in fairytales. Elves, Faeries, you know, that lot.”
A paw comes up again, booping his nose lightly.
“Me? Let’s just put it this way.” He lifts the small fox up, cradling him gently as he starts walking back home. “If this was a fairytale, you’d be a princess and I’d be the monster.”
He lets out an irritated howl. That was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard!
“No? Would you rather be my queen then little one?”
He yelps. Now that was a completely different conversation, dammit, stay on track Kiyoomi!
The alpha just laughs, his scent growing clearer. “Picky aren’t you? How about my god then, would you like that?”
Honestly, he doesn’t even care at this point.
As long was Kiyoomi was his, then that was fine.
---
He was going to murder his cousin.
Or send him a big chunk of crystal gems, he’ll decide when he sees him.
Atsumu puts his book down, staring at him curiously as he drops the package on his desk, scattering the papers he was working on. He stands up and heads over to him as Kiyoomi stays as still as stone, blinking rapidly.
A touch on his arm brings him back to reality, meeting golden eyes.
“What’s wrong?”, Atsumu writes, the letters hovering in mid-air, glowing red. In preparation for the solstice, Kiyoomi had taught him how to use inscription magic, allowing Atsumu to communicate even without lifting a finger.
No, it wasn’t because he didn’t want Atsumu to touch some random faerie, of course not.
Liar, his alpha huffs.
You were the one that insisted, he shoots back. His alpha snaps its fangs at him, but says nothing.
“̸̛̙̙"̠̲̲̳̿Ō̠̱̳͟m̳̿̅͟͞ī̲̠̱͟? ̠̱̱̅͞"̲̠̅̿͟
He runs a hand over his face, sighing tiredly, trying to subtly push the parcel aside. It doesn’t work.
A second glowing line appears beneath Atsumu’s unanswered question. “What’ve you got there?”
He startles, face turning pale to pink in a matter of seconds. “It’s…a gift, if you want it”, he chokes out, embarrassed.
Atsumu giggles, and Kiyoomi feels like today would be a good time to bury himself six feet under.
“I can’t hear you Omi, ya gotta use your words, alpha.”
His heart thuds at the title, burning red in the air. Such affection given so easily, so freely.
Ah, he thinks. Today is one of those days. It’s a tad bit unfair that he’s the only one losing by default, he wants to play the game too.
Kiyoomi picks up the shimmering fabric from inside the wrapped paper, drawing out a full-length robe that was almost a dress at this point, studded with small, glinting stones. The fit and the shade is reminiscent of the night sky just before dawn breaks, hazy and alluring all at once.
It’s easily one of Komori’s best works.
The omega looks on with wonder, his fingers sifting through the delicate silks. “It’s beautiful”, he writes, unable to tear his eyes away from the robe. His alpha prickles a bit, wanting that attention on him.
His own red letters appear next to him, catching Atsumu’s attention.
“You could wear it to solstice if you’d like.”
The omega shakes his head, stepping away.
No, his alpha howls mournfully. Sweet one, come back
Kiyoomi side-steps his desk, rounding on Atsumu, caging the withdrawing omega between his arms. He takes his wrist, writing slowly over the pulse point.
“You didn’t like it?”
Atsumu shakes his head again, refusing to meet his eyes. His scent however, tells an entirely different story.
“I can’t see you Atsu, you have to use your words, omega.”
He feels Atsumu tremble as he finishes the last stroke, the smell of honey growing warmer by the second.
“I’ve seen those colors before”, Atsumu writes, the characters blurring a bit as they suspend in the sliver of space between them. Kiyoomi fights the urge to grin at the small display of stubbornness.
“Did you now? What did you think of it then?”
“Those were on your crest. These are your family’s colors.”
“They’d look good on you.”
Atsumu looks up then and frowns, nose scrunching in mild annoyance. This time his letters burn brighter. “Don’t tease like that, Omi. It’s not fair.”
He hums, completely unrepentant. “I’m not teasing darling; I’m stating a fact.”
He feels a kick on his shin and he hisses, his alpha whimpering at the subtle rejection.
Kiyoomi, however, is far less inclined to give up. He’s going to win this time dammit.
He shifts his other hand from the omega’s arm to the small of his back, pulling him flush against him as the other one still continues to write on Atsumu’s arm.
“No? I thought you’d like that, being marked in my scent, my colors, my court.”
He leans forward, nipping his jawline.
"̿̿͟I̠̱̠ ̠͞͞t̲̿͟h̳͞͞ō̄̅ū̱͞g̱̲̅ẖ̳̅ṯ̲̳ ̲̿͞y̿̅̄o̱̱͟u̠̠̳'̱̅̄d̲̲̿ ̳̠̱ḻ̄͟i̱̅͞ḵ̅̿e̠͟͞ ̠̲̠b̠̠̠e̠̱̿ī̳̿n̲̿͞g̿͞͞ ̿̄̅m̱̲̄i̠̱̿n̲̠̱e̲̲̿. ̱̠̿"̅̿͞
A whimper resounds in the room, sending his blood roaring in his ears. He pulls back, ready to apologize. Maybe he read this wrong. Maybe he was just playing. Maybe Atsumu hadn’t meant—
"̠̅̿O̅͞͞m̠̅̿i̠̅̿"̱̱̄
He stays still, watching as Atsumu brings a shaking hand to his neck, pressing on his scent gland. The scent of mint grows a tinge sharper as he bares his weakness in front of the omega.
It is more than a proposition, or a courting gesture.
Offering, his alpha says reverently.
"̱̅̿Y̲̠̅o̅͟͞u̱̱̳'̅̿͞d̄̿͟ ̱͟͞w̲̄͟a̠̲͟ṉ̳̄t̿̅͟ ̄͟͞ṯ̲͞h̲̲̄i̠̅͟s̅͟͟...̠̱̿. ̲̱̅w̠̱̿ī̠̳t̠͟͞h̠͞͞ ̠̠̄m̲̱̿e̱̿͞? ̲̲̿"̳̄̿
He takes the Atsumu's free hand, pressing his knuckles against his lips. "̳̅̿I̠̱̱ṯ̳̅ ̠̲̿w̱̄̿o̿̄̄u̲͟͞ḻ̅̅d̳̅̄ ̳̱̄b̠̅̿e̳̅̅ ̳̿͞m̲̿̿y̱̳̿ ̲̿͟g̳̠͞r̠̲͟e̳̠̅a̱̳͞t̠̿͞e̠̅͞s̄̄͞t̠̲̅ ̠̳̳ẖ̄̅o̳̳͟n̳̠͞o̳͟͞ṟ̄͟. ̳̲̿"̠͟͞
Tears slide slowly down his face as Atsumu laughs, and Kiyoomi can only stare, completely transfixed. Even while crying, his omega looks so—
Beautiful, his alpha whispers, Perfect.
"̠̠͞W̱̱͞h̠̱̲a̳̿͟t̲̲̅ ̱̲̿ḏ̿̿o̠̠̅ ̲̅͟y̳̅̄o̱͟͞u̲̲̅ ̳̱͞s̿̅͞ā̲̳ȳ̱̄ ̲̄͟d̿͟͟a̅͟͞ṟ̳̄l̳̱͞i̳͞͞n̠̳̳g̲̿͟? ̳̿͟ ̱̅̄W̠̿͞o̳̠͟u̠̿̅l̲̄͟d̲̳̳ ̲̠͟ȳ̠̠ō̳̿u̱̅͞ ̳͟͞a̳̿̄l̄͟͞l̠̱͟ō̠̱w̄̅̅ ̱̲͟m̳̄͞e̳̠̱ ̲̿͞ṯ̳̄o̲̳̿ ̲̄̿c̳̳͞o̱̠̿ū͟͞r̄̄͟t̲̱̲ ̲̄̿y̳̿̅ō̱̳ū̲̅? ̱̄̿"̲̲̿
"̳̄̄Y̠̳͞e̲̿̄s̲̱̲"̅̅̿
He’s far too enamored listening to Atsumu’s yes playing on repeat in the recesses of his mind to notice his alpha’s instinct rearing.
He lifts Atsumu’s left hand, picking out the ring finger, and then bites gently, leaving a red imprint. Atsumu stares at it, bewildered.
“What was that for?”, he asks, the letters glowing bright once more.
Kiyoomi continues playing with his fingers, unwilling to let go just yet. “I’ve heard that humans gave their intended rings as a symbol of their promise.” Atsumu flushes red, eyes darting between the mark and his words. “I don’t have any rings on me right now, but will this suffice for the meantime darling?”
The omega—his omega, his alpha crows happily—whines and hides his face on Kiyoomi’s chest. He chuckles, impossibly endeared.
"̲͟͟C̳̿̿ā̲̿r̅̅͞e̲̿̄f̅͞͞u̱̅͞l̠̲͞"̠̠̿, he rumbles, dropping his tone. "̠̿͞O̱̠̠r̳͟͞ ̠̳͟t̳͞͞h̲̿̿i̠̠͟s̲̲͞ ̠̄͞w̄̅̿ī̄̿l̠̲͞ḻ̱͟ ̠̄͟e̳͞͞n̳̿͞ḏ̲̲ ̠̠̲i̱̠̠ṉ̠̿ ̠̄͞m̲̿̄ō̲͟r̲̳̄ē̠̱ ̲̳͞t̲̱̲ẖ̱̳ā̱̠n̳̄̄ ̳̿̄ō̿͟n̲̄̄e̱̿̄ ̅̅͟b̲̱̳i̳̲̠t̠̱͟e̱̲͞. ̿̿͟"̱̲̄
He sees curious eyes peek at him from beneath golden hair, and he thanks the goddess for whatever strength he has left when the omega starts purring.
Atsumu leans heavily against him, arms creeping around his neck, stroking the curls of his hair. "̲̄̄I̿͟͞'̱̿͟m̳̱̅ ̳̿͟n̠̅͞ō̱̱t̿͟͟ ̅̅̿ō̳͞p̱̿̄p̲̳͞o̠̿̿s̠̠͟e̅͞͞d̲̳͞ ̲̅͞t̠̱̿o̱͟͞ ̳̄͞i̱̅͟t̲̳͞. ̠͟͞"̄͞͞
His alpha growls with him, completely riled up.
"̱̄̿I̲͟͞ ̲̳̱w̳̱̄a̱̅̄r̿͟͞ṉ̲͟e̿̿̄d̳̠̅ ̳͞͞y̠̳̿o̱̅͞u̳̳̿. ̲̠̿"̲̱̿
He surges forward, reeling Atsumu in as he kisses him like a man possessed. He makes a snarl of satisfaction as he feels the omega arch against him, pulling against his hair.
"̠̅̿O̅͞͞m̠̅̿i̠̅̿"̱̱̄, he whines, breathless. "̲̱͞W̲̲̄a̲̲̳n̳̿͟ṯ̄͟ ̱̲͟y̳̲͞ō̠̱u̳̅͞"̱̿̅
He backs them up, pushing Atsumu hard against the desk, toppling the stack of paperwork and the dress to the floor. "̱̱̿H̳̄͟e̿͟͞r̄̅̿ē̲̿? ̱̿̅"̠̅̅, he teases, nibbling at his lip. "̳͟͞I̳̿͟m̲̿̿p̳̲̅ā̲̲t̲̱̅i̱̲̅e̠̠͞ṉ̄̿ṯ̄͞ ̳̄͞a̠̠͟r̠̄̄e̲̅͞ ̳̠̲w̠̳̄e̠̿͞? ̳̠͞"̳̠̠
His omega purrs louder, eyes glazed over in bliss. "̠̿͞M̲̿͞ȳ̲͞ ̠̳̿ṉ̠̳e̿̄͞s̳̲̳t̿͞͞"̅͟͟, he chirrs. "̳̿͟Y̳̱͟o̱̿̿ū̱͟r̠̅͞ ̱̅͟ḇ̄͟e̱̠̅d̲̿̄"̳̿̿
His grip relaxes from Atsumu’s waist to his hips. "̠̄̅W̠̠͞e̱̳̳ḻ̄͞l̿̄͞ ̳̿̿t̅̿͞h̳͟͞e̲̿̅n̲̲̅"̿͞͞, he says, "̳̱̅Y̳̳̱o̠͞͞u̲̠̅ ̲̅̅b̠̲͞e̅̿͞t̳̳͞ṯ̄̅ē̠̳r̠̱̲ ̱̿̅h̠̄͟o̱̲̲l̠̄͟ḏ̿̄ ̠͞͞ō̳̠ṉ̠̳ ̱̅̄t̅͟͞i̲̱̱g̲̅̄h̳̄͟t̲̠͞ ̲̳̿p̲̿͟ū̱̠p̲̳̅"̱͟͞
---
He is so done with his cousin.
Honestly! It’s not like he was asking for much, just a heads up that Kiyoomi was bringing someone to solstice, or a thank you for the dress, or heck even just a simple, “hey I’m alive” would’ve sufficed!
Did Kiyoomi do any of those things? No, of course not! He had to find all of that out from Oikawa himself, who wouldn’t stop pestering Komori about it until he did something.
And now he’s acting as a messenger and organizer for the priestess. Goddess above, he just wanted to go to those court meetings for the wine, he didn’t think there’d be actual responsibility involved this time!
He grumbles, hiking his skirts up as he trudges towards the hill, huffing as he went past the barrier. The physical trek was nothing for his fae strength, but traversing through Kiyoomi’s spells took a lot of time and effort, something Komori didn’t like wasting.
He snarls at the door, banishing the intertwined protection and locking spell placed on it. Goddess above, his cousin wasn’t this paranoid five years ago, what the hell happened? Was he robbed or something?
Komori slams the door open, thoroughly annoyed. “KIYOOMI”, he roars at the top of his lungs. “SHOW YOURSELF OR SO GODDESS HELP ME—“
He stops abruptly at the sound of china shattering, staring at a stranger wearing Kiyoomi’s clothes. Yes, he’s pretty sure those are Kiyoomi’s; he’s embroidered those sleeves himself, so what the hell is someone else other than his cousin doing with them?
The man backs away from him, eyes wary, and howls.
Komori winces, feeling a little guilty. Sure, he’s barged in unannounced, but he was just as startled! Did he really have to send a distress signal at the mere sight of him?
He sees a dark shape move at the periphery of his vision, and the next moment he feels himself being hauled up and shoved unceremoniously into the wall. His back stings as he stares back at his cousin’s true form, fangs bared menacingly against him.
“Hi.”
“Komori”, he rasps, unblinking. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Kiyoomi”, he says, gasping for air. “Is this how you greet your favorite cousin?”
“You didn’t tell me you were coming; you know how much I dislike uninvited guests.” His dark eyes slide towards the stranger, watching them silently. “And you scared Atsumu.”
“Good to see you too.”
The alpha rolls his eyes and drops him, letting his more human features take over as he walks over to the man, tracing patterns on his arm. A sweet scent permeates the air, and he finally begins to understand.
This is the omega Oikawa has been raving about.
He walks closer, letting out a comforting lavender scent. “Hello. I’m terribly sorry for that, I wasn’t aware Kiyoomi had guests. I’m his cousin, Motoya Komori.”
The other omega stares at him a bit more, then back at Kiyoomi, looking a bit lost.
Kiyoomi raises a hand, and he feels a thin layer of magic wrap around his throat. He gets a feel for it, confused. Why use transcription magic on him?
“Atsumu can’t hear.”
Ah.
He repeats his apology and his greeting, this time the words shining on the air as he talks. Atsumu responds in kind, letting out a soft scent of summer flowers being teased by the wind.
“Would you like some tea, Komori-kun?” he asks, looking a little less disoriented.
Komori coos, endeared already. “See Kiyoomi, even your mate treats me better than you do!”
Atsumu flushes, leaving behind a scrawling message about boiling water as Kiyoomi watches him scamper away. He raises an eyebrow at his cousin. “Was it something I said?”
“I haven’t put a claiming mark on his neck yet.”
He sucks air through clenched teeth, wincing sympathetically. “Is he spoken for?”
Kiyoomi grins, looking feral. “I said his neck, Komori.”
He makes a face. “UGH, no, just, you know what, I regret asking. Keep your bedroom activities to yourself. I’d rather not know thank you very much.”
He shrugs. “You’re the one that asked.”
“Honestly”, he mutters. “You’re insufferable! I didn’t even know you were courting someone until I heard from Oikawa! You’re lucky Atsumu looks good in midnight blue, what would I have done if it clashed with his hair?!”
“He looks good in anything,” he says automatically, as if on reflex. He blinks. “Oikawa?”
His expression shutters, remembering why he made the trip here in the first place. “I bring news from the Seelie Court.”
---
Atsumu needed to concentrate, lest he keep dropping the tea leaves on the sink.
His omega didn’t help with that though, prancing around all the time, its tails fully fluffed up. Mate, it croons. His pack called us mate! Mate, mate, m—
I get it dear, he shoots back, unable to be annoyed at his omega’s enthusiasm. A smile starts to curl up his lips, completely unbidden. Soon, he tells it. Not yet but soon.
He blinks in surprise as he feels a familiar arm wind around his waist, turning him around. He immediately notices the shift in his alpha’s mood, though he’s visibly trying to conceal it from him.
Atsumu croons, tracing the line of his jaw as he enables the transcription magic. “Omi?”
He sighs, resting his forehead against his. He nuzzles against Atsumu, scenting both of them thoroughly. He can feel Kiyoomi saying something, lips moving against his skin.
Atsumu pushes him away gently, with just enough space to accommodate his words. “Omi, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”
Kiyoomi doesn’t move, but new words appear underneath his. “I don’t want to leave you yet.”
His heart catches in his throat. “Are you going somewhere?”
“They want me to take care of a problem in the court before the solstice, which means I’d have to leave now.”
No, his omega whimpers. Tsumu, no, no, no—
He twines their fingers together, if only his hide his shaking form. His alpha grips them tight, pressing soft kisses to the back of his hand.
“Will you be gone long?”
Kiyoomi sighs. “A few days, but since my presence is required at solstice, I’ll still be there.” He bites his lip, assessing him. “I can’t bring you to the Underground so…”
“You need to leave me here.”
He knows it’s not a permanent arrangement, but being separated this quickly hurts more than he thought it would. Even his omega is barely moving, sulking in the corner of his mind.
Kiyoomi holds him tighter. “I won’t if you don’t want me to.”
Atsumu knows he would if he’d just ask, but whatever this is, it’s got to be important enough that they’d send someone to fetch for Kiyoomi. He smiles, hoping it would mask the anxiety curling in his gut. “It’s just two days until solstice right? I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“It’s just two days,” he repeats, despite his omega clawing at him to stop their alpha from leaving. Kiyoomi’s eyes narrow, clearly unappeased himself.
“I’ll ask Komori to escort you until I find you in the court, is that alright?”
He relaxes a little at the thought of the other omega, shoulders dropping in relief. “Yeah, yes, thank you.”
Kiyoomi suddenly draws back, looking over his shoulder. Atsumu follows his gaze and sees Komori holding a slightly crumpled paper, looking alarmed. “Kiyoomi”, his words read. “They’ve reached the court gates.”
He feels the frustration wafting off the alpha in waves, his scent slowly but surely turning into something akin to a forest wildfire.
Atsumu pulls him close, scenting him before pushing him away again, this time towards the door. “Go”, he writes, feeling as if the words were emblazoned on his skin instead of the air. “You owe me a dance at this fancy festival party of yours okay?”
Kiyoomi’s eyes brighten just a tad bit, the sharp tinge of his scent in the air lifting. “I’ll be back before the ceremony starts.” He takes Atsumu by the waist, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead.
“Save your first dance for me.”
He nods, his vision slowly blurring from unshed tears as he watches Kiyoomi grab his cloak and run for the door.
It snicks shut just in time for Atsumu to see his words fade.
His omega howls, already trying to make him run after him.
Two days, he tells himself. Two days.
---
His terrible mood gets worse as he sets foot in the dark stone building, blue and green flame torches crackling merrily in greeting.
Pests, his alpha hisses. We came for this? Filthy, pathetic, little—
That’s enough
“Greetings, Elder Sakusa, I am—“
He lets his alpha take over, immediately shifting the mood of the room in his favor. The chattering and scattered greetings immediately stop as the air turns cold, made worse by his scent of winter and pine. He walks past the silent nobles, seating himself on the glinting quartz throne.
“I know who you are Seravelo, son of Faciel. Tell me, what is the business of the Seelie with the Unseelie?” He taps a claw against the stone, noticing how most of them stands stock still at the sound, as if expecting someone to be decapitated the moment that finger stops clicking.
It wouldn’t be the first time Kiyoomi did so.
“If you remember,” he drawls on, nothing more than a predator before prey. “We have rules, untainted one.”
He leans back, allowing the bone ivory crown on his head to shine dully in the unnatural blue flames. “And we, the court of beasts, do not take kindly to trespassers.”
A chittering canopy of voices, the shadowed denizens of the Unseelie court, laughs at them from overhead, making the elves’ faces pale even further.
"̄̄̿S̲̄̅i̳̲͟l̠̲̿e̳̱̿n̳̳͞c̱̳̳e̲̲̿. ̠̅͞"̲̅̿
The laughter immediately stops and the emissaries flinch, a guard on the right stepping back in fear.
“Speak, Seravelo, son of Faciel, lest I cut your head off this instant and send it back to your father for this insolence.”
Weakling, his alpha growls, watching the high elf’s son tremble before him. How dare he—
“Father”, he says, voice shaking but his words clear, “Has invoked his right to ask for an audience with the Other.”
Kiyoomi blinks in surprise. Then he sneers at the elf. “That is the duty of the Unseelie King, not the heir.”
“Father has been made aware that you have claimed a partner. He will acknowledge your claim if you fulfill this favor on behalf of the Seelie Court.”
It was completely absurd to even consider the request but—
Atsumu, his alpha rumbles. Safe.
If he did this, then they were bound by their own law to never hurt a hair on Atsumu’s head.
He sighs. “Where and When?”
“On Solstice, at the highest peak of the moon. It will be the best time to invoke the lady of the abandoned.”
Goddess dammit.
He’s going to be late for his dance.
---
He twirls around, the fabrics ballooning around his hips before flaring all the way down, clinging in all the right places. He looks over to Komori, who was holding up two different sets of necklaces.
“Does it look alright?” he writes, feeling a little self-conscious under another person’s gaze.
Jasmine curls around them, sweet and high. “It’s perfect!” Komori’s letters exclaim, burning bright. “It’s almost like you were made to wear the Sakusa family colors Atsumu-kun!”
He blushes, thumbing the dark fabric. “Thank you.”
“You must let me make more clothes for you Atsumu-kun, Kiyoomi was right, you would look good in anything!” He writes back, pulling Atsumu closer to the makeshift vanity in the guest room, the very same room Atsumu used to stay in until a few weeks ago.
“Pick one!”
He looks at the ruby and the topaz pendants that Komori offers him, shaking his head.
“They’re very beautiful”, he writes. “But I would like to wear the one Omi gave me.”
He pulls out the glass necklace, watching Komori’s eyes widen in recognition. He kneels down next to Atsumu, holding his hand. “He gave that to you?”
He nods warily, confused. “Do you recognize it?”
Komori’s words glint, betraying his surprise. “Atsumu, did he tell you what that is?”
He shakes his head again. “Only that it would tell him where I was.”
He drops his head on his hands, his scent growing stronger. If Atsumu was reading the room right, then Komori must’ve been very exasperated, though he couldn’t tell if it was with him, Kiyoomi, or the pendant itself.
Komori tugs his hand again, capturing his attention. “Take good care of it alright? Don’t use it until you really need it.”
He examines the roaring beast, tracing over its crystalline eyes. “What is it?”
“It’s a bit complicated but,” Komori rises, pacing, giving more room for the letters to appear. “Think of it as a pretty bit of dangerous magic that is linked directly to Kiyoomi’s soul. It’s an extension, a safeguard of sorts. Even if someone were to pierce his heart, as long as the necklace isn’t broken, he won’t die.”
Atsumu clutches the pendant, eyes widening at the revelation. “And if the pendant is broken?”
“He would feel it, wherever it was, if it was stolen or broken. It would hurt like the goddess herself personally stabbed him, but he’d be able to know.”
“Why would anyone try to break it, or steal it then?”
Komori’s eyes glow, a miniscule bit of his shift taking over him. “Because as much as the Seelie Court tries to deny it, this is his birthright. Kiyoomi is the only living heir to the Unseelie throne. That makes the magic of his soul incomparable to us high fae.” His next words shine bright before Atsumu, an advice and a warning at the same time. “A royal’s soul can damn someone or save them from the brink of death.”
“The very same soul you hold in your hands now.”
He cradles the necklace gently in his hands, wishing for the hundredth time that day that his alpha was here.
He thought he was the first one who took a leap of faith when he revealed his Archaic voice to Kiyoomi, but it was always, always Kiyoomi who reached out first.
It was Kiyoomi who took him in, defended him, taught him how to cook, to do magic—
It was Kiyoomi who let him run free, who kept his arms open, who gave and gave, no questions asked—
It was Kiyoomi who put his life in Atsumu’s clumsy hands and told him that it would be his greatest honor to have Atsumu by his side.
Goddess above, he loves him.
He wipes the tears streaming from his cheeks, and smiles at Komori who was looking over him worriedly.
“I can’t replace this necklace,” he writes, “But do you have matching rings?”
---
It’s been a while since he walked through the hallowed halls of the sanctum in his natural form.
He can tell this place has never welcomed him, or thought of him as one of their own.
The spring, however, was a different story.
While the Untainted pure bloods of the Seelie Court were born of the Divine Tree, the so called Beasts of the Unseelie court clawed their way out of the underground before being given the honor of life through the spring’s waters.
He could feel it beckoning him closer, murmuring soft reassurances of welcome.
Even his normally volatile alpha was sitting obediently, waiting quietly for Kiyoomi to make a move.
“Elder Sakusa.”
He turns, facing Oikawa, already dressed in ceremonial garb. “Priestess. Have you come to bear witness?”
“As is my duty, elder.”
He walks side by side with Kiyoomi, unfazed by the crowds gathering to openly gawk at him. “Indulge me elder, what sort of fate did you divine to ask of the Other’s presence?”
Who the fuck made you do this?
He laughs, making the nearest noblemen flinch away, hands instinctively drawing near their weapons. “I have come to seek Her aid to claim and protect what is me and mine, honorable one.”
Keep your dogs on a leash Tooru, so that I don’t bring down a calamity on this world every time someone threatens those I protect.
“I see. May She grant you that which you seek.”
Done. I don’t need him anymore; he’s becoming an eyesore for me too.
“Then watch over priestess, and celebrate the coming of the Other.”
If something goes wrong, run.
Oikawa stops just in front of the dais as Kiyoomi walks on, barely sparing a glance at the Divine Tree. Who needed the protection of the goddess when he was born out of the muck she abandoned?
He keeps walking until reaches the spring, just behind the edge of the shadowed canopy of the tree. He kneels down, gathering whatever magic he could muster on his fingertips.
Mother, his alpha calls quietly.
I call upon you.
The moon rises high above them, illuminating the court in brilliant, silver hues.
And then, darkness erupted from the spring, overshadowing them all.
---
It was curiosity at first that made him agree to come here.
The land under the hill was beautiful for sure, but it was also, for lack of better words, very strange.
There were creatures coming forward to greet him, perhaps enticed by the arrival of new blood, before turning away as soon as they got within a few feet of him, muttering the most bizarre excuses.
Atsumu turns around finding yet another group of armed fae bow in front of Komori, who waved them off with a single hand, his bracelets bedazzling in the soft light of the full moon.
He tugs at Komori’s hand, writing out small letters between them. “Am I supposed to bow to anyone?”
Komori blinks. “No, there aren’t any of royal descent here. The high fae only give respects to those who are chosen by the goddess.”
His eyes narrow, remembering something. “Aren’t you of royal descent? Should I have been bowing to you this entire time?”
Komori laughs, weaving them through the crowd. “Only by half. No, the reason they pay their dues is because I am the Sword of the Unseelie Court. I hold Kiyoomi’s armed forces on his behalf.”
Atsumu stares at him dumbfounded. “I thought you were a seamstress.”
The fae laughs again, and Atsumu seriously considers smacking his arm. “It’s been centuries Atsumu-kun! I have to find something to keep me preoccupied!”
“Why didn’t you tell me?!”
“You never asked?”
Atsumu sighs, completely done. Between Komori’s information dump about everybody in the room and his omega’s attention being grabbed by anything that was just a tiny bit shiny, Atsumu feels like he’s on his wits end.
It’s how he almost misses the light blue letters suddenly appearing next to him.
“Greetings, to the lady of the Unseelie Court.”
He turns, finding himself face-to-face with a beautiful dark haired creature with silted, unblinking eyes, his skin covered with a faint, translucent sheen. The fae bows briefly before him, giving a glimpse of gills near the edge of his throat.
Fish, fish, fish, his omega prances. Pretty, pretty, Siren.
He feels eyes on them as the greeting hangs in the air, waiting to see if Atsumu would accept it.
He waves a hand, mimicking Komori’s gesture, and writes a greeting of his own. “My greetings to the fair folk of the sea. Pardon me for my ignorance, but to whom do I owe this pleasure?”
The siren smiles, showing a hint of teeth. Somehow, Atsumu understands that it was a friendly gesture rather than a threat. “This one is named Akaashi Keiji, the voice of the deep.” His eyes rove over to Komori. “Splendid as always, Motoya-san.”
“Keiji-kun!!” Komori writes, reaching for the sash on the Akaashi’s waist. “I told you gold would suit you well!”
“Yes, I am grateful for your recommendation, it was most fascinating how gold spun weaves were surprisingly durable.” He looks back to Atsumu, a sort of kinship in his eyes. “Are you comfortable Miya-san? Being unable to talk beyond our natural environment is an unfortunate burden we must bear in these assemblies isn’t it?”
“Not at all”, he writes back, feeling relieved that there was someone else who was using transcript magic other him and Komori; it was getting terribly awkward trying to read lips. “Though I have heard your voice as we traversed through the land under the hill Akaashi-san, it was beautiful as the rumors have told me.”
“You certainly live up to the rumors as well Atsumu-chan!”
He startles at the unfamiliar gold characters, looking up to see a tall, willowy fae with a delicate circlet over his head making his way over to their group. Komori and Akaashi bow slightly, and he follows suit, wondering which royal decided to grace them with their presence.
He feels warm hands clasp on his arms, stopping him mid-bow. “None of that”, he writes, eyes curving into crescents. “Sakkun would murder me if he found out that his mate bowed before the likes of me!”
Ah.
“You would be Oikawa-san then.”
Oikawa grins, the scent of roses engulfing them. “Oh would you look at that; he does talk about me! All good things I hope?”
He thinks about how Kiyoomi had cursed Oikawa thrice in a span of a day. “On occasion.”
Oikawa sighs, looping his arm through Atsumu, steering him away. “I’ll be borrowing him for a while, Mori-kun, Kashi-kun! Atsu-chan and I have a lot to talk about!”
He flashes a helpless look at the two of them, who only gave him matching smiles. Despite his wariness, his omega was fascinated, sensing a kindred spirit.
As soon as they turn away, he feels the stares on them return with a vengeance, and even though he can’t hear, he has an idea on what rumors might be floating around.
He turns towards Oikawa, whose face has now grown serious. “We don’t have enough time, I need your help—“
The other omega suddenly stops, immediately erasing his words. Atsumu watches in bewilderment before looking around and finally seeing a burly, male alpha sauntering towards them. He bows, albeit a bit strangely. It didn’t have the same grace nor depth as the other ones he’d seen before.
It was only when Oikawa’s arms tighten his grip on him does he realize why.
This one was being rude on purpose.
The alpha doesn’t offer to transcribe his words, but Atsumu could guess the extent of his greeting, judging by the way Oikawa’s stare hardens.
Then, he lifts up his hand, making the transcript magic brighter and bigger than usual.
“You may not know of it, Gremelio, since your wife never bothered to claim you, but while alphas are inherently territorial, we omegas, are fiercely jealous. We guard our mates with our lives just as they guard us with their honor. I suggest you don’t invite the wrath of the Unseelie court by making a pass at their queen.”
The alpha’s eyes widen, and he immediately drops to his knees, head bowed in apology. A litany of red words with flowery apologies start to stream from him, though Atsumu has long stopped paying attention.
He meets Oikawa’s stare, who resumes his cheery expression. “Haven’t you noticed Atsu-chan? The lesser ones won’t go near you because you smell like Sakkun.”
Alpha, his omega whines quietly, missing the scent of mint and pine. Where, where, where—
Then, darkness hangs over them like a cloud, startling Oikawa.
It doesn’t faze him though.
Something about this kind of dark feels safe, comforting even. He might even be persuaded to go—
“Atsumu”
Bright, golden letters manifest before him, illuminating the space between him and Oikawa. He blinks.
“We have to go; you have to bring him back.”
He concentrates, finding his eyes getting heavier if he doesn’t fight to keep himself awake. “Where?”
“Kiyoomi has summoned the Other, and She has come to claim him.”
---
There was a peculiar tradition in the Unseelie court that only mated or married rulers may ascend the throne. The unseelie folk would rather have an empty throne rather than a single one.
It was by no means a romantic endeavor – it was simply a safeguard, a condition of sorts.
Because while the goddess, in her benevolence, took no asking price in her summoning, the Other, the lady of the abandoned, was a deity of fair trade.
If her descendants sought to wander her lands in search of her guidance without a tether back to their world, then she would take them and keep them, as an exchange for their foolishness and her wisdom.
There has been no other exception.
Oikawa rushes to the sanctuary, pulling Atsumu along with him. He never should’ve let Sakusa do this, this was a terrible idea for everyone involved.
Sakkun, his omega growls, annoyed. Punch.
Later, he promises it. After Atsu-chan brings him back.
Family, his omega huffs. Pack. Annoying.
Despite the situation he smiles. Yeah, family is a pain.
He stops, blood running cold at the sight before him. He barely registers Atsumu bumping on his side, confused by their sudden halt. Bright words appear and fade just as quickly as they see a dark figure emerge from the center of the spring, reaching out to the unconscious figure at the edge of the lake.
Oikawa shivers, the domineering air pinning him in place. It was like being exposed to Sakusa’s aura on constant loop, magnified to the hundredth degree. His omega thrashes within him, snarling, fighting to be let out of the unnatural hold.
"̱̿͟S̠̄̅t̳̿͟ō̱͞p̳̿͞. ̅̿͞"̲̲͞
The figure stills, then turns its head towards them, much like a cat. He wasn’t sure if he was even breathing, pinned by the otherworldly, sightless gaze.
He’s broken out of his trance as Atsumu walks past him, towards the creature, nothing but fury blazing in those golden, glowing eyes.
He kneels next to the unconscious alpha, pulling him close, hiding the serene face next to his neck as if Atsumu means to hide and protect Kiyoomi from the Other.
"̄͟͞D̳̱̅ō͞͞n̄̅̅'̳̠̿t̲̳̿"̠̅̄, he growls, barely comprehensible. "̠̲̿Ṯ̱̳o̠̳͟ū̲͟c̱̠̠h̠̿͟ ̱̲̱w̠̅͟ẖ̿͟a̲̱̳t̲̳͟'̿̅͞s̅̅͞ ̲̠̄m̱̿̅i̱̱̿n̿̅͟ē̿͞. ̱̿͟"̠̳͟
The Other draws back slightly as if surprised. Then it chitters, high and whining, making Oikawa clamp down on his ears.
Atsumu does no such thing.
He stares and nods, as if he understood.
He offers his left hand, showing it to the Other who leans forward, inspecting it. The other nobles start to awaken from the advent of the creature, and they watch, still as stone, at the impossible sight before them.
"̠̄͞H̳̄̄ē̲͞'̱̠̲s̱̳̿ ͟͞͞m̱̄̿i̲̱͞n̳̲̅e̱̿͟, ̠̠͟ ̄͟͟j̱̿͞u̳̅͟s̲̳̄t̳̲͞ ̲̲̿a̱̅͞s̳̿͟ ̲̲͞m̅̄̿u̲̿̄c̱͟͟h̲̳̄ ̲̠͞a̲̳̠s̳̄͟ ̳̲̱I̠̳̿ ̄̿̿a̠̅̿m̳̄͟ ̱̿͞h̳̳͞i̠̱̿s̳̄͞. ̠̠̲"̅͞͞
It chitters again, then clicks its nails. Atsumu laughs, delighted, as the rest of the court watches, completely unnerved.
"̳̠̿I̿͟͞ ̱̲͞w̅͟͟o̅̅͞ū̠͞l̲̄͞ḏ̱̲ ̠̠̄b̠̳͞e̲͟͞ ̱̠͞ẖ̠̠o̅̿̅n̠̠̅o̠̲͟r̠̄̄e̳͟͞d̳̅̿, ̱͟͞ ̱̠̄M̳̲͟o̲͟͞t̲̄̿h̳̳͟e̲̿͞ṟ̳̿. ̲̲̿"̠̅̿
It plucks a single strand of hair from its head, affixing it to Atsumu’s fourth finger on his left hand, and doing the same to Sakusa, ruffling his hair tenderly. Then it cradles Atsumu’s face in its clawed hands, placing a surprisingly gentle kiss on the omega’s forehead.
It was a sight to behold.
Then the Other turns, and stares straight at him with those glassy eyes, and points a single, pale finger. A voice so old and soft slices through his head.
"̿͞"𝕭𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖇𝖞 𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖞, 𝖇𝖚𝖙 𝖈𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖊𝖓 𝖇𝖞 𝖋𝖆𝖙𝖊. 𝕭𝖊𝖆𝖗 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖘, 𝖕𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖘𝖘, 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖞 𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖓."
It walks past the spring, towards the Divine Tree and murmurs something so low even Atsumu appears to not have heard it. It strokes the bark softly before returning to the spring, wading in its waters, disappearing completely as it reaches the center.
The heavy darkness lifts, and the moon shines brightly on them once more.
Sleep, his omega huffs, tired.
Oikawa Tooru, priestess of the Seelie Court, who just witnessed an ancient wedding ceremony, passes out.
Iwa-chan can deal with the paperwork later.
---
He’s had the oddest dream.
Kiyoomi opens his eyes, completely befuddled. He’s sure it was about something important, but it evades him somehow. He pokes at his alpha, who also looks disoriented.
What happened?
Mother, his alpha rumbles. Don’t know.
He rubs a hand over his face, perplexed. Sitting up, he notices that he was in his room, in Atsumu’s nest.
Their nest.
What just…?
The door opens, admitting the omega, whose eyes turn wide at the sight of him, dropping the books he was carrying.
"̲̄O͞͞m̠̲i̲̳! ̲̠'̿̿
He catches the omega as he dives into the nest, fluffing up the pillows in the process. "̠̅C̲̅a̠̠r̲͟ē̱f̲̅u̱̲ḻ͟ ̲̄d̠͞a̳̱r͞͞l̅̿i̱͟n̿͟ḡ̿. ̿̄"̱̠
Atsumu makes himself comfortable on his lap, playing with his fingers. "̿̄I̠̅ ̠̅g̳̳o̱̠t̳̅ ̱̿ȳ͞o̳͟ū̠ ͟͞a̅͟ ̠̅g̠̠i̲͞f̄͞t̠̄”, he murmurs, eyes downcast. Look at him, being so adorable when he’s shy. He decides to indulge him. "̱̅C͟͞a̅͟n̠̳ ̳͞I̲̿ ̲̄s̲̿e̱̿e̠͟ ̅̅i̳̅t̄̅? ̿̿"̠̲
The omega stares at him, pouting slightly. His alpha stands at attention, weak at the sight. "̱̠P̠͞ṟ̿o̳̳m̳͟i̳̱s̲͞e̲̅ ̲͞y̱̅ō̠u̠͟ ̳͞w̱̄o̲̿n̠̲'̱̿t̲͟ ̅̿b̳͞e̲͟ ̱̄m̲̿a̲̿ḏ̅? ̲͟"̿̄
He laughs, holding him closer. "̅͟N̳̄ē͟v̲̲ē̄r̲̄"̲̅
Atsumu lifts their left hands together, shining, identical black ink wrapped around their fourth fingers. "̠̿I̠̿ ̱͟m̲̅a̅͞ȳ̲ ̱͟h̠͟ā̠v̿͟e̅̿ ̠̄a̠͟l̅͟ḻ̠o̲͟w̠͞e̿͟d̄̿ ̳̿M̠͟o̱̅ṯ̅h̅̅ē̠ṟ̠ ̲̄ṯ͞ō̠ ̳͟m̿͟a̲͟r̳͞ṟ͞y͟͟ ̿̄u̅͟s̲̿ ̲̿w̲̄h͟͟i̠̠l̠̄e̱̿ ̳̄y̳̿o̱͟u̲͟ ̄̄w̱͟e̳̳r̠̿e̿͟ ̠͟a̅̄s̱̄l̿̅e͟͞e̠̱p̲̅. ̲̿"̱͟
He blinks, as his alpha stands still.
The omega shifts, trying to gauge his expression. "̱̄O̱̠m̳̿i̳̱? ̅͟"̳̅
He buries his face in the crook of the omega’s shoulder, whining. "̳̠I̱̿ ̳̿w̱̄a̳̱s̳̅ ̅̅u̱̅n̿̅c̲̄o̱͟n̲͟s̿͟c̠̄ī̠o̲͟u̅̿s̲̿ ̳̱a̲͞t̠͞ ̅͞m̅̅y̿͟ ̠͟o̱̅w̄͞n̅̿ ̱̲w̳͞ē̠d̠̳ḏ͟i̳̱n̲̅ḡ̳? ̄̄! ̠̳"̳̳ He pulls Atsumu down to lie with him, rolling them over so he could rest his weight on the omega.
"̠̳T̳̅h̠͞ī͞s̲̅ ̱̠i̠͟s̱̄ ̳̲ū͟n̲̄ā̅c̠̳c̠̅e̿͞p̿͟t̳̱a̱̠b̠̱l̄̄e̳̅! ̲̄ ̄͞Ī̿ ̠̄d̿̄e̅̿m̱̿a̳̲n̲̳d̲͞ ̱̿t̄͞h̅͞a̱̠t̿̅ ̿̿w̿͞e͞͞ ̲͟g̿͞e̳͟t̿͞ ̿̄m͟͟a̳͟r̲͟r̠̱i͞͞e̠͟d̳͟ ̳͟ā̳g̿̅ā̱i̿̄n̿͟. ̱̱"̱̳
Atsumu flushes red, then shifts, darting from underneath Kiyoomi and out of the room. His alpha’s hackles rise, excited at the prospect of a chase.
A yip sounds out from the corridor; an invitation, as well as a taunt.
He grins, preparing to run.
“And I still owe you that dance!”
---
The Unseen Realm
The Other walks at the edge of a bright garden, watching, waiting.
It hears laughter and yips and growls and she smiles, knowing that her children will do well.
A light glosses over her figure and she looks, seeing a radiant being followed by three foxes. The Other nods at the Goddess, who beams at her.
She kneels down, extending a clawed hand to the gray fox who watches her with curious, silver eyes.
“I bring news about your brother. Do you have time to talk?”