Post-Canon, Afterstory, time skip, Lauki growing old, Reminiscing, Canon and post-canon memories, Lauki with (older) children, Brief Bittersweetness, happy endings
Summary:
A three (and a half)-part short story collection that is set at three different points in time after the conclusion of the presumed War of Ardhalis and following the Phantom Scythe’s destruction.
Part 1: With the city still smoldering in the aftermath of the recent civil war, Kieran has decided to leave Ardhalis for the time being to let the city recover and move on from the tragedy that the PS has brought. Lauren watches his departure and travels the city absent-mindedly as she struggles with the unexpected void left by her partner.
Part 1.5: Kieran struggles to write a letter informing Lauren of his return back to Ardhalis.
Part 2: Set five years later, Kieran has at last returned to Ardhalis. Lauren is there to greet him upon his arrival, and the two travel through some of their old haunts, enjoying the company of each other.
Part 3: Decades have now passed, and as Lauren and Kieran reach their twilight years, they reminisce on all the things they have done throughout their life - the turmoil and struggles that they have overcome together, as well as the tender moments they’ve had in their relationship as a couple and the unexpected antics of their children.
Kieran as the PH / Flashback | 6.7k | Mature | Gore, Murder, Depression, brief suicidal ideation
Author: scmarshtacky (ao3 / instagram)
Beta reader: @laukisimp/ laukisimp (instagram / X )
Artist: @sandwiiche / sandwiiche_ (instagram)
↳ Keep reading below for a sneak peek!
Kieran glared furiously at his reflection in the small creek of the cave. No matter what angle he stared at it, his face and his hands were covered in the blood of the people that he’d slain. He balled up his fists, relishing in the stings and throbs that resonated from the torn skin at his knuckles. He had half a mind to toss another punch at the unforgiving rock wall, but instead, he grit his teeth against the words that resounded in his head. “It was stupid of me to believe you could be human for even a second. You’re nothing but a monster.” With a hissed ‘tch’, Kieran spun and stormed out of the cave.
The rain poured through the trees; Kieran closed his eyes, raised his head, and let the coolness of the liquid calm his vehement mind. Nothing but a monster. Yes, that’s precisely what he was; how could he ever dare to think that he could be anything more, anything different? He’d said more than he’d meant to Lauren and it brought back too many memories that he had kept under lock and key for so long. His already hollowed-out being felt even more listless and his glazed eyes saw the surroundings, yet took nothing in.
In that state, Kieran trekked out of the woods and through the city. Now that he was thinking on it, it seemed every street held a memory of some kind. That’s the house I climbed up to escape after killing a traitor to the Phantom Scythe. And that was a bar owned by a couple that had their livelihoods destroyed because their child managed to spot a mercenary with his face uncovered. And here…. He stopped at a street corner. The lettering was faded now, and hard to see in the rain regardless, but if one looked closely, they could make out a H, A, R, and Y in white. Hanbury.
What used to be a bustling avenue for those of high class was little more than a deserted street now. Even after it had been cleaned of the blood, the area was treated as though it was cursed - as if anyone who dared wander here would meet the same fate: killed by the Purple Hyacinth.
Kieran shivered through his back, but it wasn’t the downpour that brought on the chill. His hands, though wet with rain, felt as though they were caked in sticky blood. In his mind, he could still see it as though it were yesterday…
[...]
Kieran sat in front of the bird-faced man with his arms crossed tightly against his chest while his cold eyes glared at the scratched wood of a worn desk. The tip of his pointer finger tapped quickly against his upper arm and the heel of his boot kept the same beat against the stone floor. “I don’t want to.” He said, grounding out the words through his teeth. “You have so many other people happy to cause a scene for you. Why not just use them?”
The Phantom Scythe was not short of mercenaries, and many seemed to get a high off of the kill. Kieran couldn’t understand it, and he didn’t want to understand it either.
“They aren’t you.” The fourth messenger emphasized in a voice that was thickened and muffled from the massive mask. “The orders come directly from the Leader, and you will carry them out. You know what happens if you don’t.”
“You’ve already taken everything from me,” Kieran growled. “What’s the point in it? Do what you want with me - beat me, chain me, whip me - I don’t care.”
The Messenger lunged forward in a smooth movement. It was fast - fast enough to tell Kieran that the man had quite a few… other hobbies aside from just yelling at henchmen on behalf of his Apostle. Kieran grabbed at the man’s wrist, but the Messenger’s second hand flashed out, and he took hold of Kieran’s collar. Despite Kieran digging his heels into the ground and bracing against the edge of the desk, the messenger ripped him forward and threw him onto the unforgiving stone floor.
Kieran felt the impact through his back, and his breath left him in the same instant. Coughing and sputtering, he wrenched himself free of the Messenger’s grasp, scrambled back to his feet and drew his sword. The blade caught the light as it spun toward the sliver of exposed neck under the bird mask, but a clang of metal on metal told Kieran he’d been blocked just before the point of impact.
The Messenger placed his hand on Kieran’s chest and shoved him backward with an excessive amount of force, leaving the young man to fall backwards onto the floor once more. “Don’t test me boy,” he spat back. “If you find your motivation lacking, we will get creative in our ways to make you comply.”
“Tch.”
“If you’re done acting the part of a rebellious child, read your orders properly and follow them to a T.” A taupe envelope was tossed onto his lap, and Kieran slowly pulled the papers from within, trying to ignore the growing speed of his heartbeat.
Lauki Afterstory / Romance | 7-10k | Teen And Up Audiences
Author: scmarshtacky (ao3 / instagram)
Artist 1: @laukisimp / laukisimp (instagram / X )
Artist 2: kacenka_listens / phcanbreakmyheart_anditwill (instagram)
Song: Solas - Jamie Duffy
↳ Keep reading below for a sneak peek!
Huddled against the icy cold and bitter wind, Lauren glanced up toward the train tracks. There was a part of her that hadn’t expected to hear from him again, a part of her that had moved on and dived with complete focus into her work. It had helped her forget about it all… to an extent, and the distraction was most welcome.
In the past five years, Lauren had climbed her way up to head detective now - a job that she took with the utmost sincerity, especially knowing how hard she'd had to work to get back onto Hermann’s good side. Case after case. She’d solved them meticulously and thoroughly while learning how to rely on clues aside from just the lies. If the Phantom Scythe had taught her anything, it was that hearing a lie could not tell her the truth of the matter, and in many cases, it may not even give her the full picture of what wasn’t true.
So she’d take it as an inkling of a clue, and investigate around her until she found enough evidence to back up her claims regardless of if she could get a confession. Though it usually wasn’t hard with a few pointed questions once the facts were laid out in front of the suspects.
In the midst of one of her most difficult cases to date - aside from the Phantom Scythe - Lauren had received a letter. One in which a certain man stated that he was returning to Ardhalis in the coming months. Kieran had let her know the date and the time that the train would be arriving, and Lauren, unable to sleep the night before, had gotten to the platform nearly an hour early.
She regretted her impatience now, as the day was cold even by Ardhalis’s standards. With the next gust of wind, Lauren brought her hands to her lips to blow warm air onto them. Her eyes drifted to the clock. It should have arrived by now. Should she go inside of the station to at least get out of the wind? Logic told her yes, but despite that, her feet remained firmly routed to the platform. Perhaps she was too cold even to move at this point.
A shiver traveled through Lauren’s spine, but on the next gust, she heard a faint whistling of a train engine. Bringing her head up, she sought for the locomotive on the horizon. In the end, she felt the rumbling of vibrations through her feet before she actually caught sight of the black ironed engine that led the cars behind it. The blowing of the whistle sounded again, this time loud enough to make her ears ache, but her focus was fastened to the windows of the cars as they passed slowly by where she stood, looking for striking turquoise eyes and black hair from somewhere within.
With a light screech, the train finally halted, and the people poured off. From the southern regions, they were clearly unprepared for the bitter chill, and many of the passengers visibly shivered and jumped when the cold air met their lightly clothed bodies.
In an ironic twist, it was the thick coat - so unlike everyone else that had gotten off - that Lauren’s eyes found first. Only after she’d examined the black wool did her eyes travel upward to find those familiar blue eyes. Lauren’s breath caught in her throat as she felt the world around her shift oddly in the moment that he, too, caught her gaze. The distance of the platform in that heartbeat was both astronomical and non-existent.
“Kieran…” With his name, Lauren’s body began to thaw, and her feet which had previously been frozen to the earth beneath her finally moved. It was slow at first, but she worked her way into a sprint as she covered ground. Her shawl fell from her shoulders as she picked up speed, but Lauren hardly noticed. The chill in her bones was gone, her focus all dedicated to the one man before her. Her partner.
She opened her arms and embraced him in one smooth motion, and felt the rumble of a laugh in Kieran’s chest as he returned the gesture.
“Did you miss me, Detective?” he teased, tilting his head as he cast a lopsided grin back down at her.
“Don’t pretend it’s one sided, Subordinate.”
“You’re right,” Kieran lifted his head toward the flakes of snow that were beginning to fall down on them. With his words, a puff was released into the frigid air. She could see him smiling from his side profile, but his eyes were a bit distant as he gazed over the cityscape. “I’ve missed it.”
two mentions in one week after not promoting PH for 2 years... yeah this isn't random, it is definitely returning later this year (even if we still have to wait a while)
i’m obsessed with the way that “partner” is slowly changing meaning and expanding throughout the story.
first, begrudgingly partners who come together to end the phantom scythe. someone to watch carefully and be afraid of. all business.
partner becomes more personal when kieran is in her world. her partner who helps her free an innocent woman, goes to a work party, finds the poison that’s harming her friend.
now, we have the partner who takes her to celebrate her promotion, comforts her at the hospital, touches her more freely, and cares for the people she loves. the partner she’s happy to have around in more aspects of her life. the partner she trusts with the ones she loves.
of course, we know we’re on the path to romantic partner and life partner.
i’m so excited to see more of lauren’s realization that his role has expanded in her eyes and what it means. i’m also excited to see how she might step up in her role as partner even more for him with that realization. not that she hasn’t, but i would love to see more active steps to be there for him, especially now that she’s learning his background.
one more ph post for today i’m not done yapping yet. i NEED a scene where lauren finds out it’s kieran’s birthday or that it just passed. what a good moment to see him more as a person with a life, specifically a life that has really been taken from him. joy that he doesn’t get to have. i feel like this could really make her think more of his personal life. what was his family like if he knew them? did he have friends before this? how does he know bella? we’re so close to that day in the story and i’m hoping this can be a moment for them. also a great moment for her to celebrate him the same way he celebrated her promotion.
it’s in the way lauki's hands touch that you can see their relationship evolve. starting with handshakes between enemies, shifting into the grip of true partners, and finally becoming the touch of partners in crime whose bond is growing into something more
never moving on from these Kieran panels. he really pulled up to the meeting with the messenger looking FINE as hell. he's an icon for real. the outfit, the attitude, and the forearms... sir ??? i'm on my knees
Shout out to that one time Soph dropped "Extreme slowburn enemies to lovers" for Lauki in a reel and EVERYONE LOST IT! We were all like "SHE SAID LOVERS! SHE SAID LOVERS YALL!! WERE NOT DELUSIONAL!!!" and Soph was like "You... you guys didn't know? Have you seen the art I make of them?? Wtf????"
That was the day Soph might have realised how deeply she had damaged us...
a rough drawing for lauki week !! decided on the vampire prompt... but since im neck deep in assignments this is probably the only one i can do 💔
also hbd lauren <3<3 we miss you everyday
there's just something about the way Kieran hugs Lauren. her head nestled against his chest while his eyes are closed, gently cradling her head. it’s such a comforting and intimate moment. Kieran is so soft with Lauren. i’ll never move on from it 😭
CHARACTER ! DESIGN CHOICES !! BLEEDING INTO !!! CHARACTER TRAITS !!!! AND LORE !!!!!
(Purple Hyacinth HCs by Peace: Part 2/x)
Kieran White:
His hair is jet black.
Black so dark as endless and ever-expansive and cold and lonely outer space, as the dim underground cell and grim life he was forced into as a child, as the inside of a tunnel with neither the entry nor the exit in sight, as a labyrinth that has swallowed all hope inside it, as the darkness of his own thoughts that never leave him since the moment he was first lost, as the weary silence he has brought into the world with the lives he has taken from it, as an abysmal void that you look into by accident and end up finding comfort in, as deep dark water synonymous to his descent as well as his rise into the wretched ranks of the scythe, as the solace from a weighted shelter in the midst of a raging storm, as nothingness of being that comes at the cost of losing everything that can be.
His eyes are aqua blue.
Blue as the waters of a deep sea, as the duality of the ocean itself be it deadly and tumultuous or sheer and shimmering in its tranquility, as the calmness he inherently holds in his actions, as the fluidity and weightlessness of his movements, as the vitality that water holds in binding to all life around it and binding all life around to it, as the depth and immersiveness of his memories and emotions, as the blade-like sharpness and force of a waterfall, as a rarity in all that lives and grows but neither a rarity in nature itself nor a rarity in his nature.
His hair is raven black and his eyes are aqua blue.
Lauren Sinclair:
Her hair is ruby red.
Red as a raging fire, as flames that consumed her past be it the death of her parents or the loss of her childhood best friend, as autumn with its reluctance to fade into an unwilling unwelcome end and a symbol of persevering in perpetuity, as the fieriness of her temper which is always quick to rise and quick to consume, as a hearth providing warmth in the biting cold when it could just as well leave you with a scathing burn.
Her eyes are golden hazel.
Golden as the sun nearing dusk when its intensity from the long day has turned into a muted whisper of warmth, as pious light that beckons and guides and rewards but leaves no judgements, as the grace and blessing (curse) of the gods depicted in ancient lore, as sunlight that's warm and bright and nourishing and fulfilling.
Her hair is ruby red and her eyes are golden hazel.
William Hawkes:
His hair is golden.
Golden as a halo emanating when sunlight passes through a stained glass window, as the crown of kings and the weight it carries–the weight he carries–of substance and morality, as a heartfelt promise to bring ease and comfort and make better what no longer is and never shall be again, as an image overly exposed to harsh light and never fully developing and thus ruined forevermore, as the sliver of memories painting his childhood with warmth, as the blinding nostalgia he must replicate looking at his mother who can never truly see him, as the hue of eternal snow on a mountaintop lit up from the warmth of the morning sun at dawn but refusing to ever melt.
His eyes are baby blue.
Blue as light as clear water that gives the promise of healing, as the afternoon sky that fades into the background when placed against a bright burning sun, as faint as white except it isn't white and it won't ever be no matter how much one may squint their eyes, as a subdued fragment of a vibrant whole hidden away just so it could be easier on the eyes of those always beholding it–always beholding him–even when it holds and when he holds so much more life below the surface.
His hair is golden and his eyes are baby blue.
Kym:
Her hair is blue black.
Blue so dark as a rare flower in strange lands that holds stranger magic, as the darkness where your vision still stays once you open your eyes and you are able to find your way, as the promise of light just beyond yonder even if you can't sense it quite yet, as the strength in her that comes from a shadowed past that once festered but has disintegrated since, as a blanket–an embrace–that envelopes with the sole burden of compassion and care, as the eyes of the void staring right at a soul and seeing through to its core, as the midnight cityscape where the dark sky overhead has been tainted at the horizon by incandescent lights of warm homes in such a way that being tainted would hardly seem like a flaw.
Her eyes are honey brown.
Brown as the earth beneath one's feet that provides solid ground, as the stability she holds even in the chaos, as the acceptance of the inevitable cycle of decay and growth in this world rising from the very soil, as her sturdy presence like a piece of polished wood that has survived centuries of carefree existence, as respite with an old oak tree providing shelter from the burning sun, as her warm words rarely honeyed but nevertheless drenched in the sweetness of her ingenuity and consideration, as the toiled ground brought alive by treasures held underneath it, as her bright and warm aura which never fails to bring comfort to the ones around her even without her lifting a single finger.
Her hair is blue black and her eyes are honey brown.
(thank you @laukisimp for reminding me how obsessed i am with this concept with your post ily <3) (the first post of the series is also tagged: #purple hyacinth hcs by peace)