#could be considered fluff?

[ragzonacamrencruise]

For the first sentence of a fic ask

Katara’s choking sound filled the room which gained the attention of her friends until Katara stopped and turned to face Azula with a shocked face.

hello bestie!

this is too funny . . .

okay so hear meowt-

***

THE PROPOSAL

Katara’s choking sound filles the room, which gaines the attention of her friends until Katara stops and turns to face Azula with a shocked face.

Azula, sitting closest to Katara in the enormous dining hall, is half way down slurping her noodles when she notices the racket. Her own eyes grow wide as she witnesses Katara holding her throat and gasping for air, but not getting any.

Now, for the people who've been following Azula around in the palace since she was a little kid, they know it's common knowledge that Azula, would quite normally, enjoy watching the person choke themselves into oblivion instead of rushing to help them.

And in this case, Katara being the one who's the traditional healer of the group, no one else knew what to do in this situation. They could only sit and watch their friend choke helplessly. The waterbender's eyes begin to water as she looks all around frantically.

So, it's safe to say that it comes as a surprise when Azula calmly places her chopsticks near her almost empty bowl, stands up, walks behind the now standing Katara and envelops the choking waterbender in a hug from behind.

Everyone's too shocked to speak as Azula places a fist right under Katara's now matured chest and pushes it into the waterbender forcefully. Katara jumps up high in her arms at the impact. But Azula simply does it again.

And again.

And again.

Until Katara coughs something out of her mouth and it comes flying out to hit Sokka on the head, who's sitting exactly opposite to Katara. The waterbender gasps in a lung full of air and then lets out a string of coughs, her hands desperately holding on to Azula's strong arms wrapped around her stomach, keeping her from collapsing.

Azula flattens one of her palms over Katara's back and rubs soothing circles. "There, there, peasant. We don't want you dying on us now, do we?"

Katara wipes around her mouth with the back of her palm, trying to calm down from the sudden adrenaline rush of almost dying. Sokka, being the naturally curious person that he is, bends down under the table to pick up whatever the hell hit him on his head. When he brings it out to the light, he gasps out loud.

"It's a Water Tribe betrothal pendant!!"

Katara looks at the round, blue, glimmering, piece of jewellery in Sokka's fingers. She immediately extends her hand to take it from him.

"It's not stone!" Katara exclaims, running her eyes all over the pendant. "It's some kind of . . ."

"Copper." Azula states as she removes herself away from Katara's person and takes back her seat, picking up her chopsticks non-chalantly to gobble down the rest of her noodles.

Katara turns to her immediately. "What?"

"It's Copper." Azula says with a roll of her eyes. "Clearly you peasants have no knowledge about this metal's existence. It's crystalized Copper. And very difficult to carve, by the way. I spent literally hours trying to get that thing carved."

The waterbender blinks, not believing what she's hearing. "Y- You made this?!"

"Yes."

"Why?!"

"For you, of course." Azula shrugs, filling her mouth with noodles.

Katara could only let her jaw hang.

"You're giving my sister a betrothal necklace?!" Sokka's voice is a high-pitched shriek.

Azula looks confused. "What are y'all yapping so much about? Isn't it traditional to betroth a girl when she's 16 in the Water Tribe? I know I'm an year late, but it still counts, right?"

"You're asking me to marry you?!" Now Katara's voice is an octave higher.

"Wow, you filths really are dense in the head." Azula wipes around her mouth with a napkin kept at the table like the proper royalty that she is.

"No!" Katara exclaims.

Azula looks at her with her brows furrowed together. "No, what?"

"No, I will not be marrying you! Are you crazy?!"

The princess stands up, having done with her meal. "I was three years ago. But not anymore." She says with a smirk, before bowing curtly and leaving a hall full of dumbstruck people.

....

Katara flips the pendant in her hand, deep in thought. She looks down at it, tracing the intricate carvings that adorn it with a finger. She's lying on her stomach, on the bed inside her room in the Fire Nation Palace, having had an eventful supper. She frowns when she notices something strange.

The carvings look exactly like her mother's betrothal necklace. Not even a single line out of place. She touches her mother's necklace and gasps softly.

Azula must have one hell of a brain if she can carve something out just from memory.

Then she thinks back to everything that conspired during their meal.

She must've slipped the pendant in my noodle soup when I wasn't looking, or something, to surprise me.

The pendant's beautiful. Too beautiful. She would've mistaken it for glass if it didn't radiate such a glossy blue glow, refracting candle light through it in a translucent haze. It's mesmerizing.

But the thing that nags her the most is, why would Azula of all people give her a betrothal necklace?! Does she like her, or something?!

Sure, Katara couldn't help but get lost in the princess's elegance from time to time, and blush like crazy whenever the firebender got even remotely close to her, thankful for her complexion hiding her flustered state, but that is beside the point.

Katara sits up. There's no way in hell she's going to sleep without talking something through with the very firebender that proposed to her. Determined, she gets up, wears her night robes and walks out of her room to the princess's chambers.

....

"Your highness?" Katara calls out softly, peeking inside a dimly lit, enormous room. Her eyes look all around before falling on the princess's frame by the table, sitting on a chair and reading a huge book by the candlelight hanging above her head.

The firebender takes a second longer to acknowledge Katara, her eyes hurriedly running over the last few lines on the page she's reading, before looking up. "I figured sooner or later you'll be here."

"Ha ha." Katara laughs humorlessly as she walks into the room and shuts the door behind her.

Azula places a peacock feather over the page she was reading and closes the heavy book. "State the purpose of your visit this late at night, peasant."

Katara scowls. But she's unable to hold it much longer when she spots the princess pulling out another chair by the table, gesturing her to take a seat.

The waterbender's bare feet make no noise when she walks up to the table, adjusting the chair a little bit, before sitting down, close to the firebender. It's the beginning of winter and nights, even in the Fire Nation, are getting pretty chilly.

When she finally settles down, with her knees almost touching the side of Azula's thigh, she looks up in contentment. The princess is still waiting for her answer, when Katara's eyes fall on her.

Katara takes in a deep breath. "I still haven't thanked you."

Azula frowns. "Whatever for?"

"For saving my life."

Azula clicks her tongue, in irritation. She turns back to the book before her. "Leave. I still need to complete this chapter and I need peace and quiet."

"No, I mean it. Thank you, your highness . . ."

Azula doesn't answer as she flips open the heavy book again.

"The remedy for choking is still not known by many." Katara says softly. "Where did you learn it?"

Azula's eyes find Katara, without ever turning away from the book. "I read about it somewhere." She explains before letting her eyes fall to the book before her again.

Katara hums. She unintentionally falls silent as her gaze finds itself helplessly drawn to the princess's perfectly crafted face. She traces curves and crevices sculpted in astonishing precision, even when the firebender is devoid of any make up. Her golden brown eyes shimmer in the candle light's flicker, and the sight puts Katara in a trance.

"You can stare all you want after you marry me." Azula says without turning away from her book, and that jolts Katara awake.

"Who says I'm marrying you?" The waterbender is quick to deny, her face getting heated rapidly. "I never said yes to your proposal, remember? If you can even consider that a proposal. You didn't even ask me properly!"

"Your father." Azula states.

"My father? What about him?"

"Yeah . . ." The princess looks up from the book. "He met with Zuzu to negotiate a stable course of action, considering the amount of overwhelming peasants from the Water Tribe opposing the idea of working together with the Fire Nation."

Katara's eyes are wide and attentive as she can almost predict where this is going.

"So," Azula continues. "They put their heads together and came up with this; a marriage alliance. And as Zuzu is already planning on marrying Mai . . . You're stuck with me. Personally, I think it's okay, considering how nothing really is satisfying you barbarians."

"Hey!" Katara exclaims. "If anyone's a barbarian, it's you people! You started the hundred year war and butchered an entire nation!"

Azula stares at her. "Out of all the things I said, that is what you choose to respond to?"

Katara pushes her chair back and jumps up, her knees bumping Azula's thigh. "Whatever! I'm gonna talk to my dad first thing in the morning to cancel this supposed 'marriage alliance'."

"Suit yourself." Azula says, turning back to her book as Katara storms out of her chamber in anger.

....

The next morning, Katara finds herself grumpily sitting in the dining hall for breakfast all alone, as all others have already had theirs. The meeting with her dad dragged on longer than she would've liked.

It's stupid, considering the fact that Katara never really entered her father's chambers to discuss the crisis at hand. She just paced outside his room, for a long time, contemplating what to say and how to say it. To be honest, she wasn't really that opposed to this marriage alliance anyway. She came here just out of spite. She was turning on her heels, already loosing her nerve and giving up, when her father came out, ready to head for breakfast. And it certainly did not help when she randomly blurted out 'I don't want to marry Azula' out of no where when he greeted her with a good morning.

Her father had just laughed it off stating it's just jitters and he's "seen the way you look at Azula".

Katara had then spent her whole morning contemplating living under a rock from embarrassment, but then her stomach growled and she dragged her feet to the dining hall reluctantly.

Her brooding comes to an end when she finds the object of her crisis walk into the hall, her hair up in a small topknot and the rest of it long and falling freely over her shoulders, her signature bangs still in place. Katara's eyes follow the princess as she takes a seat opposite to her, clad in a simple, light red, yukata with short sleeves.

The waterbender notices Azula's skin coated with a slim layer of sweat, making her glisten in the morning sunshine wafting in through the hall. She averts her gaze hastily.

She's not supposed to be feeling this way towards her! Even when she's supposed to marry her!

"Slept in?" The princess's mocking voice makes Katara look back up at her.

"Not really." The waterbender replies politely. Then she catches the drift of what Azula's implying. Didn't she tell her yesterday night that she was gonna call off the marriage alliance? It really is a slap in the face for Katara when she realizes that she never broke off the betrothal. And she's not ready to make peace with the fact that she doesn't really want to break it off.

Their breakfast arrives and Azula's upon it even before the servant places it on the table. Katara looks at her with amusement. "One would think you were starved for weeks." The waterbender teases at the way Azula gobbles up the food.

"Never go easy on breakfast." Azula swallows a mouthful as her manners of not talking while eating kicks in. "Especially after a good workout and training."

"Training?" Katara raises an eyebrow. That explains the sweat.

"Yeah. Every morning. You don't?"

"Not really." Katara chooses to say again, trying not to pay attention to the way the princess's arms flex when she's using them, fresh out of a workout.

They both fall silent, only opening their mouths to eat. When they're done, Katara wipes her hands and face in the hot napkin placed on the table and stands up to leave. So does Azula. The waterbender walks out of the hall, slowing down near the doorway to wait for Azula when she comes out.

But she never comes.

Instead, Katara hears someone speaking beyond the dining hall inside what she thinks is the kitchen. And because it's so quiet in the morning with only the chirping of birds to keep her company, she frowns softly as she follows through the kitchen to where the voices are coming from.

She hears Azula speak, so she braces herself against the wall beside the entrance to the kitchen, out of sight from anyone who might want to look outside.

". . . but the flavours were thick. Make sure you simmer down on the basil and lift up curry leaves. It would provide useful and time saving and, dare I say, delicious. And, Zata? We need to incorporate more from other nations if we're supposed to excel at anything we do. This goes to cuisine as well . . . And prepare stewed sea prunes for lunch, will you? I'm told it's the Water Tribe princess's favourite." The princess is saying.

"Yes, princess." Katara guesses it's Zata who agrees with the firebender.

"Keep up the work." Azula says finally.

Katara hurriedly makes herself scarce from the vicinity as she hears the princess's footsteps staring to echo out.

Katara's sure her blush is visible for miles when she makes her way to the royal gardens to cool off.

....

The lunch, as expected, fills the whole dining hall with the aroma of stewed sea prunes and Katara doesn't even have to look at the bowl before her to know it.

Azula's sat directly opposite to her and the waterbender can no way in hell meet the golden brown gaze annoyingly fixed on her. She struggles to make it through one spoonful of stew without blushing like a maniac.

This is so absurd! Get it together, Katara! It's not like she gave you the whole world! She just made you your favourite dish. It's not a big deal!

But . . . it's Azula we're talking about! When has she ever done something this nice to someone else?!

"Is it not to your liking?" She hears a voice in front of her and she has no other choice than to look into those scrutinising eyes.

Azula's eyebrows are merged together, deep in thought, watching Katara struggle to eat her lunch, unaware of the problem. The waterbender, however, is hyper-aware of it, the smell of the stew reminding her every second that it was because of Azula.

Katara offers her a small, nervous smile. "It's good, your highness."

Their friends are present in the dining hall, so Azula doesn't press the issue further. But her face remains thoughtful the entire duration of their lunch.

Katara is the first to leave the hall, having gulped down the hot stew directly from the bowl, in an attempt to get out of there soon. She can heal her burned tongue later. She just needs to . . . get out.

She hurries off to her chambers, plopping down heavily on the bed, shutting her eyes close.

....

The royal gardens, that evening, sees Katara watering the plants, temporarily trying to get a certain firebender out of her insistent thoughts. The setting sun casts a warm glow over the flowers and trees, beautiful and sophisticated. A cool breeze flows in the garden and the waterbender is grateful for it, given the way her body heat seems to rise up eveytime she thinks about the fire princess.

Katara bends the water from a nearby pond and lifts it up, gently letting it fall, spraying over the fire lilies. She smiles, feeling rejuvenated with such a simple act. When she's about to turn around to water the other part of the garden, something, or rather someone catches her eye as she looks up.

She almost has a heart attack when she realizes it's Azula, leaning against a courtyard pillar, watching the waterbender do her thing. Katara freezes, eyes locked on the fire princess helplessly.

Azula, realising her presence is no longer unnoticed, pushes herself away from the pillar and steps into the garden, her gaze never leaving the waterbender. She walks towards Katara, gaining distance by the second and the waterbender's no longer in control of her own breathing.

The setting sun hits the firebender's eyes, and Katara's put in yet another trace with the way it gleams, looking at her in a way that makes her stomach flutter.

When she finally does get close, close enough for Katara to feel her warmth, Azula lifts her hand up, gently moving a strand of hair away from the waterbender's shoulder to expose her neck. She eyes her mother's necklace already placed on Katara's delicate neck and shifts her gaze to the waterbender's sparkling blue ones again.

"Marry me, Katara." Azula says, ever so softly. It's a command, but it sounds so desperate and so loving, that the waterbender's heart starts raging against her ribs. Katara can only let her lips fall open in a silent gasp, dumbstruck with the way Azula's making her feel.

The firebender searches her eyes, waiting a second longer for her to answer, before letting out a soft, glum sigh of defeat, turning around and walking out of the garden as quick as her own lightning.

Katara finds it difficult to catch her breath, even after a few minutes of just standing there.

....

That night, Katara finds herself standing before the giant doors of Azula's chambers again. She thinks of knocking, but then decides to just screw it and opens the door.

She enters the room and shuts and locks the door behind her. When she turns around, she notices that Azula's sat in the same table over the same book. Her wide golden brown eyes fall on Katara as she watches her with a rare glimmer, completely uncharacteristic of her.

When Katara walks inside, Azula stands up to meet her halfway. The flicker of the candlelight hanging above right beside them, bounces off of something shimmering, catching the firebender's sharp eyes right away.

Azula lifts her hand to Katara's neck, an ecstatic expression filling her face. She touches the cool, smooth, carved, crystal Copper hanging from the necklace on the waterbender's neck, and lifts her gaze to the matching blue eyes looking at her with longing.

Their eyes stay locked for a moment longer, before Katara opens her mouth to gasp, "Yes."

Azula's hand immediately reaches out to grab the waterbender's waist, as she pulls her flush against her. Katara swears she can practically taste Azula's smile when she leans forward and kisses her, deep and long.

By the time they break apart for air, Katara's brain is stuck in one giant daze, blinking up at Azula, hanging onto her shoulders desperately, unable to form coherent words except, "Your highness..."

"Bed. Now." Azula's voice is deep, bathed in dark hunger, and the waterbender can do nothing but nod frantically.

Katara didn't know that almost dying would end her up with a fiancé, but she isn't complaining much now at all.

....

"You really didn't like the stew, huh?"

"No. I loved it."

***

butterflies. straight up butterflies when i wrote this.

this could've been longer. but i tried to make it simple 😭🖐🏻 its funny because i was already thinking of their dynamic in marriage proposals and BAM the perfect opportunity presents itself in the form of an ask inbox.

thank you for the ask bestie! @waterfire1848

[meowpupp]

can we please all agree that the new hozier song SCREAMS price and the new recruit for 141

[triglycercule]

hhhhidea...,,,, CUTE idea (kinda?) dust reading to phantom papyrus during night to lull him to sleep,,,, but really its just a way for him to pretend that everythings not really that shit (as if phantom paps isn't just dust's denial incarnate) and to help him NOT wake up because of a nightmare again or something

(and just because i can't resist now im imagining this with mtt. not that dust stopped reading to paps in place of killer and horror (because he wouldnt he simply wouldn't) but now the two join them for storytime. horror knocks out pretty damn fast and eventually dust falls asleep too after he makes sure that paps is satisfied with the amount he read and then killer's just left to sit there. maybe he tries to fall asleep maybe he doesn't,,,, maybe he picks up the book and continues reading but EITHERWAY,,,,,, this scene in my head so 💥💥💥😇😇😇)

[hiphopcherrrypop]

Would you draw some Jabashiri x Hagure fluff? Idk, just something where they are softies for each other ❤️

The brainrot is brainrotting

meoww

[tswwwit]

Wait so he’s not taking it from the back while seeing unimaginable horrors?? I guess i misunderstood portal smut

Technically speaking it'd be more accurate to call it 'glory hole with identity surprises' smut, but portal rolls off the tongue better!

Though if it helps, your concept is excellent and your mind a beautiful treasure.

[v7lgar]

had a vampire sirius hogwarts au fic in my docs and gonna start posting it in a few hours bcuz why not

[anonymocha]

Je Te Veux • Voyager x Vertin

No more sadness. Breathe in the precious moment.

Synopsis — A moment of respite in the wilderness. Voyager invites Vertin to a little dance.

Words — 600+ words

A/N — Voyatin fluff for @definesanity as a part of our trade! Was listening to Erik Satie’s Je Te Veux while writing this soooo yeah! Get well soon btw!!! I still absolutely love the KaalaaPocket fic you made RAAAHHHH!!!

As the light dipped below the horizon wilderness, it casts a golden hue over the expanse. The timekeeper wandered among the flower bushes recently installed near the picnic area, their fragrances carried by the breeze like a sweet perfume. She stumbled upon Voyager, who was gracefully twirling to the faint classical melody of a record player tucked away on the picnic mat. Vertin’s eyes were drawn to the mesmerizing sight, she was dancing alone whilst humming softly to the music, the skirt of her uniform subtly swayed to the breeze, swirling around her. And she looked like she was in gentle bliss.

Intrigued by Voyager’s dance, Vertin approached with a curious smile. "Excuse me, Voyager. Do you mind some company?" she asked, her voice soft, tinted with the familiar accent.

Voyager stopped, with eyes that sparkled like stars once she noticed the timekeeper’s presence. She nodded in response, but instead of gesturing at the picnic mat, she offered her hand to Vertin, a silent invitation to join her in the dance. Vertin hesitated, an eyebrow raised, her lack of confidence in her dancing abilities momentarily holding her back.

“Oh… You want me to dance with you?” Vertin asked to confirm.

“Mhm,” Voyager nodded.

“I… Don’t know about that... I’m not really good at dancing,” she admitted sheepishly, casting her gaze downward.

Voyager’s expression softened with understanding, but she smiled with an ounce of cheekiness. She stepped forward, squeezing the timekeeper’s hand in hers, shaking her head softly. She was close. And she smelled like flowers, different from the ones around them. A note of lavender, her signature fragrance.

She guided Vertin’s hand up, placing it gently on her shoulder, while her other hand rested lightly on Vertin's waist. With a subtle sway, Voyager began to move, her steps slow and deliberate, as if inviting Vertin to follow her lead.

Vertin, feeling the warmth of Voyager’s touch and the gentle rhythm of the music, tentatively mirrored her movements. At first, her steps were hesitant and awkward, her body stiff with self-consciousness. Her eyes couldn’t meet Voyager’s throughout the first few minutes. She was looking down at her feet, trying to coordinate herself to Voyager’s moves and the music.

Voyager let her do so for a while. But suddenly, she paused her steps, using a hand to lift Vertin’s chin with care, guiding her to meet Voyager's gaze. Vertin’s eyes widened with surprise, meeting the softness and encouragement in Voyager’s gaze.

“It’s okay, Vertin,” Voyager spoke with a whisper. “Don’t worry about the moves. We’re just dancing to wind down.” She giggled softly, the sound like a melody blending with the music.

Vertin couldn’t help but smile at Voyager’s reassurance, it’s an honor to hear the usually quiet alien visitor speak, so a flicker of confidence ignited within her. With a nod, she took a deep breath, allowing herself to relax into the dance. As Voyager resumed their gentle swaying, Vertin focused on the feeling of Voyager’s hand in hers, the comforting weight of her touch grounding her to the moment.

With each step, Vertin felt herself growing more at ease, her movements gradually syncing with Voyager's in a harmonious rhythm. She began to lose herself in the dance, the worries and insecurities of the day fading into the background as she surrendered to the moment. For those few minutes, there were no storm, no Foundation, no Manus Vindictae, no nothing… Just the alien visitor’s starry eyes, the momentum of their moves, the scent of flowers, the music, the breeze, and them.

Chasse… Whisk… And sometimes, a playful messy natural turn… The two of them giggled whenever Vertin did a misstep or Voyager led her into a spontaneous twirl.

So, the evening light becomes witness of time and space’s little waltz before it bids its goodbye to welcome the wilderness night. It was peace not often found amidst throes of uncertainty beyond the suitcase. A precious, fleeting moment.

[oculusxcaro]

Pottering around still! Just been a little proccupied with @teethofthedeeps but I'm getting my spoons back and will start focusing on catching up elsewhere including here. Also a belated munday, not for me but R.orschach! He's growing fast now and I'm getting his tank ordered next week while the family is away... he's just had his enclosure cleaned out, with lots of fresh new bedding plus some treats from today's morning walk with the dog. Fresh bit of wood, some flowers and fallen leaves makes for a happy snake!

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

Pokémon Horizons Episode 24 spoilers under the cut!

HEY AMETHIO BESTIE WHAT DOES THAT MEAN . WHAT DOES THAT MEAN

[altruistic-meme]

tell me about the wip selfish. idk if I'm not in the fandom I wanna know everything

(you tagged a fucked up post with it so now I'm so so curious)

hehe HIII Kate 🥰

yeah it's a bungo stray dogs fic but I can and will still tell you about it :)

its. hm. best way to explain it....

i guess it's a canon divergence AU where Dazai makes a deal with Mori before he meets Chuuya, where if Dazai can find someone that Mori is more interested in him, then he'll take them on as his second and leave Dazai under Kouyou's command instead. and then Dazai finds Chuuya and drags him to Mori's attention, before eventually realizing "hey wait, no, actually Chuuya makes me feel things I've never felt before, I dont want him to suffer under Mori, he'll ruin his humanity" except it's too late by that point. so when Chuuya and Dazai properly join the Port Mafia, their positions are switched from canon with Chuuya working under Mori and Dazai working under Kouyou.

the fucked up part of it being Mori's treatment of Chuuya, largely, from SA to experimenting on him, and then also Chuuya and Dazai's relationship being all sorts of toxic and fucked up as well, bc Dazai has guilt for putting Chuuya in that position and Chuuya knows it's Dazai's fault. but Chuuya also refuses to switch them back bc he wants to protect Dazai from Mori since he knows what it's like. and Dazai wants to get close to Chuuya to help him out of guilt but doesn't know how to do that in a healthy way, and Chuuya wants to keep Dazai away from him for protection and will do anything he can to make that happen.

and then looking at their future where Dazai is in a better place bc he left the mafia, but he left Chuuya without even the meager support he had been providing before, which puts Chuuya in a worse position than he had been in. and trying to explore Dazai wanting again to help Chuuya and Chuuya again wanting to just protect Dazai. and figuring out how to get Chuuya out of the Mafia, and then the aftermath of that + his trauma and history.

and its name coming from the selfishness Dazai portrays throughout the whole story. from his original deal with Mori, to let someone else suffer in his place. to him trying to get close to Chuuya out of the guilt of putting him in that position in the first place. and then 4 years later, him doing everything to "save" Chuuya to ease his own conscious for having left him behind, without ever stopping to actually ask Chuuya if that WOULD help him at this point. or even WHAT could help him.

and. yeah. it will easily be the darkest thing I've ever written when I do finally start writing it. and that's also kind of the point of it. to explore a darker version of Chuuya, and more toxic version of skk, and a version of Dazai that isn't AS heavily influenced by Mori.

[aroacettorney]

dont mind me. im simply just putting together a ludgercasey angst collection.

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[nathanielfisher]

have to censor myself because i don't want to get blocked by 90% of this (extremely large) fandom which even with two followers is still possible and also because part of the 10% that are fine with it are annoying af

[malulurivers]

Brook and Fountain | Caitlyn x Musician!GN!Reader

Word count: 6.5k Request: Hello since u write for zelda and arcane can you do caitlyn x reader who is extremely musically talented but was born in zaun idk maybe they met when she was with vi in the undercity ~ Anon Warnings: very slight mentions of parental death (reader's mother is alive, no mention of another parent)

AN: a long time coming! sorry for the wait, Anon! I've edited it honestly so many times, and I'm still not quite happy with it, tbh. too much plot and not enough soft this is the first piece I've ever written for Arcane so I might've gone a little crazy. it's also the first piece I've written for our girl Cait, so I just hope I've done her justice! {Gender neutral reader.}

☾ ₊ ˚ ✩ ˚ ｡ ☽

a ragged breath shuddered from her lips as Caitlyn leapt from one rooftop to another. lights dazzled far below her as she collided roughly with the edge. groaning, she hoisted herself up as fast as her aching arms would allow.

scaling down the heights of the base of Piltover to the crest of the Undercity had worn her muscles out more than she had expected; especially after watching her new friend fly from creaking pipe to bar and beam—without breaking a sweat. she had figured Vi was strong, sure, but her agility had caused Caitlyn to rethink the not-so wonderful possibilities she'd tried to gloss over in her mind.

and they quickly became a lot more plausible, as she finally pulled herself up onto the rooftop. wincing at her ribs which were most likely bruised, Caitlyn realised she could no longer see the darting shadow that was her accomplice.

"Vi?"

she got back to her feet, immediately coughing. what she had learnt about the Undercity's air had been an understatement: it was thick and claggy, sticking to her tongue, the roof of her mouth, her teeth. and she wasn't even in the belly of the beast yet.

"Vi!"

she had to shout to hear herself over the twisting of cogs far off in the murk that was the air down here. Caitlyn ran to the opposite end, following the sooty footprints that marred the rooftop. she'd expected to see Vi waiting below, readied with a quip about her uniform. she would've been very right—it offered no protection at all, and her protesting ribs were proof of that.

but there was nothing. the outline of another level below was either eluding her, or didn't exist at all.

Caitlyn scoured the surrounding pipes and wires and buildings veiled with smog. she assumed this man-made canyon of sorts was a street. somewhere far, far down. though who was to be sure?

she sighed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "guess i'm making my own way down, then.”

choosing the most robust-looking pipe further back—right by the cliffside that made the border between the two cities—she slid her way down another level. and then another. as she descended, the cogs grew distant but the cries and yells of the people below grew ever louder.

when the pipe ran out she spotted a lopsided ladder. scraping her knee to reach it, she began to descend a few more levels. there were walkways now, suspended in the air. some were covered in spray paint, or marked with intricate graffiti. the levels were surrounded by fog and populated by loitering shadows of people. however, her path did not seem to lead to any of them. only further downwards.

taking care at every wrung, Caitlyn managed to remain upright for most of her descent, and only fell a short distance once. she had landed on her feet that time, which could barely be said for when she finally touched the ground.

losing her grip, she had scuppered into a puddle, much to the entertainment of some haggard man opposite her. he was garbed in very little and by the way he staggered and lilted, was clearly very drunk.

she barely turned an eye towards him, and instead focused on the immense shadowy walls around her. she was in a stout alleyway of some kind, still near the cliff-face, but she could no longer see it. even the neon lights couldn't permeate into the shadows of the Undercity.

the smell was stronger now, completely inescapable. it was a cacophony: smoke, smog, the slight tinge of sewage, some alcohol, some oil, grease. it was far from the delicate candle wicks of home. and much like the smell, the sound was loud and roaring.

with a final sigh, as deep as she could manage, Caitlyn stepped out across uneven concrete and made her way towards the smokey glowing lights and hubbub.

‎

the people in the thick of the Undercity were not what she had imagined. they were garbed in patches of colour, dyes, augmented with metal or wraithed in it. she could see how they differed from those in Piltover; they were bolder, brasher, and she found herself gravitating to the edges of the street.

though she could not traverse without watching her step, her eyes stole glances everywhere.

the walkways above were strewn with people staring down below, debating and drinking. on either side of the road, with every other step there was an alleyway, obscured and smokey, haunted by shadows. the neon lights emblazoned shops, establishments like tattoo parlours and bars and brothels. one building billowed violet and haze far thicker than smog. there were the yells of a fight far off to the left, raucous laughter somewhere right, greasy food stalls aglow with flames and and a scent that permeated all the way up to where she was. the street was flooded with sensations.

it was rich—not in money, but in a new, unfamiliar way.

Caitlyn found herself in a plaza, and if she had to guess, she was in an entertainment district of sorts. the crowds were squeezing, abruptly shoving. they appeared to be queuing for a club lit with red haze and neon bars. though 'queue' perhaps wasn't the right word, as it was the opposite of orderly. the question of why they would wait so long to enter one particular place didn't occur to her, however, as her mind was preoccupied elsewhere.

through the throng was a flash of pink.

in an instant she was out of the shadows, in the thicket of people.

and even quicker was she out of them, confronted with a lanky man with fuchsia-dyed hair.

Caitlyn pressed her lips into a fine line as the man swaggered his way up to the bustling club. the dripping neon crimson glinted off his snarl as he bustled against the two heavy-set bouncers stood on guard. one look at their scowls was enough to indicate what was to follow, so hiding her head in her hood Caitlyn turned tail.

her thoughts raced. she had made sure to travel in the rough direction Vi had been sprinting in. checking the dim patterns of graffiti above she was certain she hadn't been turned around. but even after making her way so far in there was still no sign of her.

"i can't believe i was stupid enough to fall for this," she muttered, side-stepping just in time as a woman sashayed straight through the line and caused a butterfly effect. "i'll help you find Silco! the Undercity will eat you alive—well! i'm doing just fine, thanks!"

as if on cue, a ginormous figure lumbered out of a back alley. his skin looked as if it was hewn from rock, and he had an unwavering stare to boot. in a desperate attempt to avoid getting squashed, Caitlyn flung herself out of the way. her back slammed a wall as she stumbled several feet.

she cursed, staring up at the sky dejectedly. with a glance either side, she caught sight of a metal box attached to a series of pulleys. perhaps her luck had changed.

however, before she could make her way towards it, her ears caught a strange sound. at first she thought she had imagined it, as it was quickly swallowed by the noise of the crowd. but as she stilled and listened carefully… there it was again. a long tremolo note riding across the chatter and the smoke.

a violin.

of course the note wasn't strange in itself; it was a sound she recognised well, from the galas that she had attended with her parents. but it did not belong here. it was smoother and warmer than any part of this city, to the point she couldn't believe it was real, even as it lilted and flowed once more.

it sang from a place not too far from where she stood, a good few paces but mostly clear of people. as she approached she found the building was smaller and squatter than most, with round windows alight with auburn gold. inside there were many figures, murky in the condensation on the thick glass.

Caitlyn stood there for a moment, reasoning whether it would be wise to look for Vi or stay put.

stepping past a bickering couple, she searched for the door to find the iron-wrangled sign above it entirely mangled, as if it had been hammered and molten.

the door itself, however, was perfectly intact. manning it was a small creature with copious furry ears and a twitching curled tail. although, that was all Caitlyn could see as it was otherwise entirely hidden behind a large newspaper.

before she could debate with herself any longer, another note rang. this one was higher, before it dipped into a deeper hum. it was as if it was readying itself for a melody to come.

she headed straight to the door. looking to the 'guard' she waited for a response, but it did not peek out from behind the newspaper. and so she simply stepped inside.

a bell rang above her head as the door swung open with a lot less resistance than she expected. the glow of candlelight flickered in her eyes as the heat of the large main room engulfed her, and she added yet another reason as to why her uniform did not suffice. but quickly her attentions were enraptured by the tune that had brought her here.

there you were.

at the focus of the gathering, upon a tiny risen stage, you were robed in golden light. the sleeves of your white blouse—mocked up to look like the ones from the theatre—feathered down your arms to where you held your violin, poised. a single one of your fingers tapped a string as you levied your bow with a single graceful sweep.

your smile was bright, gleaming, magnetic. Caitlyn stared in awe, hanging onto your silence, your playful promise of a song to come.

your boot stomped onto a nearby stool, and you leaned into a bow. you admired how the bar erupted into raised pints, your eyes keen and glittering.

"shall you have it tonight?" you goaded. "shall i sing to you the tale of the bishy barnaby?"

"yes, please!" Caitlyn found herself calling through the crowd’s cheers, pleading you’d give everyone what they wanted. she didn't know what it would be, the song title was completely foreign to her, but she knew she needed to hear it.

in that moment, as you straightened and readied your bow, your eyes met brilliant blue. for a moment you were stunned. hidden amongst the crowd, stood between two regulars at the pub, was an unfamiliar face. but a very welcome one.

the newcomer was tall and slender, and by the way she held herself, very much not supposed to be here. but her gaze was caught on you, on your violin, and it was wondrous. you'd never seen someone so genuinely excited in your audience. her lips waiting in awe, waiting to smile. even beneath her small hood, she was as radiant as the full moon.

you grinned. you met her eye bravely, making sure she didn't look away. "if you want it, then you shall have it!"

and with a strong sweep of your bow, your melody began.

the words couldn't come to Caitlyn to describe what she was hearing. beautiful? vibrant? it wasn’t enough. the tune itself was unlike anything she’d ever heard, but the tone was of another world entirely.

your song was lively, whip-fast and brought the room to life—you animated what was already a roaring fire into something wild. your fingertips didn't miss a note, your bow not a single beat of the complicated rhythm that you wove.

your audience was cheering, stomping the beat, and your eyes glanced across to them, your smile never dimming, but Caitlyn found you returning to her every time. she couldn't help but smile, clapping along and praying that the heat of the building masked the heat on her cheeks.

you didn't sing once but your violin truly did. and Caitlyn was glad that you didn't, as she wasn't entirely sure if she could handle your singing voice.

as the crescendo built and a goblin-esque creature leapt onto the counter and began to dance, Caitlyn was overcome with laughter. and upon the sight, an acute sense of pride flooded your system.

you increased the vigour. with two electric notes your fingers danced into the final verse of your tale. you watched as the newcomer who had caught your attentions laughed even more, while several others began to dance too.

so you upped the tempo. you laid it on thick. those crystalline eyes returned to you, alight with glee and glorious wonder and in that moment you only played for her. notes spun while your bow flew. you added in double strings, extra vibrato. Caitlyn wasn't clapping anymore, simply caught in your song.

across the strings, straight to fourth as swift as the wind. one final strong note and a final stomp of your own. and there you finished.

the pub might've flooded with all the ale spilled as metal glasses clinked like drums. but you didn't care.

you raised you violin like a toast. "to all the good folk here at The Golden Coin, goodnight!"

as soon as you stepped off the stage, Caitlyn snapped out of her daze. her thoughts whirled but she couldn't bring herself to stop smiling. the dancing goblin creature yelled from the counter, "oi! y/n! when are you comin' back?!”

she searched the room where you'd just been, hoping to hear an answer, though you were nowhere to be found. she was about to head towards the bar counter when beside her, through the clatter of drinks and chatter, came a voice.

"want to get out of here?"

turning, her eyes widened. there you stood, a patchwork jacket and a large satchel over your shoulders. a violin case in one hand, the other offered to her.

Caitlyn wasn't sure what possessed her to agree with such vigour, but your smile indicated you didn't seem to mind.

"come on, it's easier to talk upstairs."

⌖˚‎٭ ﴾﴿ ⌖˚‎٭

within an instant you had scooped her hand into your own. your grip was firm, your fingers callused against her smooth skin. you weaved through the clientele like a snake, footsteps as well-practised with dodging drunkards as your hands were with your instrument.

Caitlyn was initially shocked but inevitably glad that you had hold of her as you made your way to the stairwell. after being bolstered about by several large bodies losing sight of the walls she would've gotten immediately lost for sure.

soon the two of you were on the narrow stairs, which were free of people. you glanced back at her, letting her hand go rather suddenly. "sorry about that," you chirped, "not dizzy, right?"

"not yet, though it is very hot!" she fanned herself as if you weren’t going to believe her. and then she shoved her hand back down to her side, feeling rather silly.

"tell me about it," you chuckled, shaking your head. "no open windows in this place. not that it would likely make a difference. come on."

the two of you reached the top of the staircase. Caitlyn expected you to lead her round onto the rickety landing and into one of the rooms, but instead you came to a halt barely round the corner of the banister. too busy looking at the tears in the pinkish paint on the walls, she bumped into you.

"evening."

confused, Caitlyn peered over your shoulder to find a lanky man standing in the nearest doorway. he was shrouded in dark greys and reds, his waistcoat too big on his frame, and a little too dark for his skin tone. he looked as if he had emerged from a grave, pallid with unblinking sunken eyes that stared into her soul.

the sound downstairs muffled as he leered, face twisting into anger.

she knocked her head down.

she hoped she passed it off as out of respect, but she knew too well it was not. she levelled her breathing as best she could as the man silently passed her, letting the door slam shut behind him. his eyes bore into her skin as he stalked down the stairs.

his footfalls were too heavy for a man so light. and his eyes flashed in her thoughts: harsh and dark and glimmering with something akin to malice.

unsettled, she swallowed thickly, deciding to work up some courage to turn around and face him as he descended. but before she could look upon him once more, you snorted.

"well that was rude!"

Caitlyn's attentions whipped back to you. you weren't even sparing the man a glance, just looking at the door and then back to her, eyes wide. "slamming the door like that? Pen is not going to let him board in here again, that's for sure! some people, honestly..."

as you muttered, you reached up and tugged a chord hanging in the corner. a flap in the ceiling opened, and an ancient ladder complained endlessly as it unfolded.

when it clanged against the wall, Caitlyn couldn't help but flinch. you must have caught it in the corner of your eye as you immediately offered her a reassuring smile. "you alright? honestly, don’t worry about him. those types aren't worth your time."

��i've dealt with worse...” Caitlyn nodded, slowly making her way to the ladder. “is this going to break on me?"

you pursed your lips. "probably not?" seeing her fold her arms you insisted, "no, no it won't! i promise! but, you gotta go first, it's cooler if you get to see it without me standing in the way."

"what's up there anyway?" Caitlyn cocked her head playfully. "and why should i trust you?"

"what's up there? a somewhat hidden gem, which i promise is worth it! as for why you should trust me," you pondered for a moment, "obviously because this face is too memorable to forget! which means if i did get in trouble, i would be so incredibly easy to track down! you'd have no issue seeking your revenge."

"you're just that famous around here, huh?" she laughed, shaking her head. she turned to make her way up the ladder. the metal protested eagerly, but did not break. as she headed up she knew it was going to take a while for her eyes to adjust due to just how dark it was up there. even so, she peered downwards as she climbed to check on you. and there she spotted you glaring towards the stairwell. it was quite jarring seeing your face laden with such a frown.

soon enough Caitlyn ran out of wrungs and was up on the roof of The Golden Coin. it was an enclosed space. the building seemed to be squeezed between two towering walls of stone and iron sheets either side. pipes littered the edges, shooting steam and dripping questionable liquids. several beams lead to who knew where, and above was the dark shape of another level. the edge of the roof was lined with a rusted railing, making it a sheltered balcony.

or a secret hideout, Caitlyn mused. as she noticed the small lopsided stools and old gas lamp off to the side, she realised you'd had the same idea. she stepped forward, coaxed by the a stack of crumpled papers secured by a stone on an upside down box, when she finally regarded the star of the show.

the wall on the opposite side of the street was a vertical gallery. upon its dominating face stretching high into the cityscape, drapes of colours cut through its cold demeanor. there were streaks of names and taglines, faces etched in dripping paints, abstract symbols. some were hasty, others crude, many calculated and one or two effortless. hundreds of different styles and merging into one, swirling into one storm of art.

she approached the edge, as far as she could go. she pulled down her hood, transfixed.

"pretty, right?" you said, coming to stand beside her.

her hands felt across the air until they rested on rest on the rail. she couldn't summon the words to describe what she was witnessing.

as she couldn't draw her eyes away, that sense of pride filtered through your chest once again. "nothing like topside, i bet."

finally she tore herself away, but only for a moment. "when you said upstairs, i figured you meant up... stairs, but... this...!"

"you really aren't from round here are you?" you giggled, dropping your violin case at your feet to admire the view for yourself. you traced its familiar lines in your head, taking in a few of your favourites in particular. you wondered which ones your newcomer marvelled first. "i'm y/n, and you are?"

"Caitlyn."

when she was finally able to tear her eyes away from the sights properly this time, she found you grinning rather proudly. "that's a lovely name. you take after it well."

Caitlyn couldn't help the bubbles that fizzed in her chest. she huffed, regarding the masterpiece opposite her once more. "not as lovely as that, i would argue. what... is it?"

you tutted, leaning against the railing. "it's The Big Eastern-Side Mural, as named by me. though if you want to be more technical, it's a patchwork of hundreds of graffiti. the canvas: an old crusty factory—it's repurposed now." you pointed off to the corner of the building. "that's the only walkway to get up there. takes a lot of balance. not my sort of venture, though. these fingers are made more music, and i quite prefer the view here."

you eyed her up carefully, smile faltering ever so slightly. the wonder in her eyes was making your heart skip, but also the worry creep in. the man downstairs flashed into your mind. "what brings you here? to the old Coin, or should i say the Undercity in general?"

"well," Caitlyn hummed, "it's a bit of a long story."

"i've got time."

it was her turn to eye you. you were relaxed, your back to the railing and elbow poised gracefully upon it. you exuded a gentleness she hadn't expected down here. she came forward to lean against the railing, returning to the city below.

and avoiding your gaze, she explained everything to you. well, not everything—she skipped the major details such as names, the prison and her reason to be down there. but enough that you hummed in acknowledgement.

"as for here specifically, that's you. i heard your violin outside." finishing with a shrug, she then grimaced. "wait, is it really that obvious? that i'm not...?"

you laughed apologetically. "don't want to burst your bubble, but the uniform isn't exactly subtle..."

"it was a very quick turn around! i was able to grab this small cloak-thing before i left but—" Caitlyn sighed, running her fingertips across her arm wraps. "i don't even know what this uniform is good for at this point. it doesn't keep me cool or warm, doesn't protect me from getting bruised, it's truly—"

"are you ok?"

your question was sudden, so sudden it took Caitlyn by surprise. "oh. yes. a little bruised but—"

your face was still crumpled in concern. "bruised? what happened?"

"the journey down, the Undercity parkour," she tried to joke, but you didn't laugh. "it was an... experience. i just messed up a jump."

the tension loosened in your jaw. "oh, i see! i thought you'd gotten jumped! was wondering if i needed to have words with someone."

"well, there was this old drunkard who laughed at me when i slipped in a puddle..." the smile returned to your lips, and Caitlyn had to ignore how it sparked the corners of her own too. hesitantly, she asked: "hey, i'm glad that you showed me this, it's a pretty sight. but... why?"

a moment passed.

what to tell her, what not to tell her... you spun the ideas around in your mind. you didn't want to disrupt her wonder; you couldn't name a single time you'd witnessed a topsider admire your home with lights in their eyes. but you knew your home all too well, too.

you took a deep breath. "like i said, you're not from round here. and people can sense it from a mile away. remember that creep downstairs?"

"yeah. why did he act like that? who is he?"

"i have no idea. but there are many like him. i figured someone like you wouldn't be down here without good reason, as you've put yourself in a pretty precarious position, but... i just... wanted to tell you to be careful, really." you offered her a playful wink. "and introduce myself properly, of course. gotta be welcoming to newcomers, right? or they'll never come back and give you their dime again!"

she scoffed. "but i didn't even give you any money!"

you feigned horror, pacing away from her in your facade. "how dare you! Caitlyn, I cannot believe—!"

"i'm sorry! i'm sorry! you absolutely deserve it, hang on." she began to fish about in the pouch at her hip, but you quickly stopped her with a waggle of your hand.

"no, no, i'm only teasing. you don't need to pay me."

"i know you are, but you can't just play for free!" she huffed. "please, i insist! your music is... unlike anything else i've heard."

as soon as you returned to the railing, you were presented with her. there were those bright blue eyes once again, transfixed on you wholly. this time they were firm, unwavering in a whole new way.

and in your mind, a few harmonic notes played.

you tried to look elsewhere, but you only ran into her silky dark hair, bangs framing her delicate face; then her hand, fingers slender and offering several golden coins. the dim light did only did you a single favour, and that was not reflecting her face to fluster you any more.

you shook your head, feeling your cheeks heat up. you tilted your head ever so slightly so that it was shadowed, and gently furled her fingers back over her money. "you're too kind, Caitlyn. but i can't accept that."

she let you close her hand, and push it back to her. but her stare didn't let up. tucking the money away, Caitlyn cocked her head, before levying it on her palm. "fine. can i see your violin?"

"of course!"

leaping to your case you brought out the instrument. the wood had a mottled grain and a rich hue. the bridge was dusted with rosin that you'd not yet swept away, and on the underside of the chinrest you'd strapped several folded shreds of cloth for extra padding. it was well-used, tuning pegs darkened with only two strings that matched in exact colour. but Caitlyn could tell it was made with a talented hand; it looked no different to the ones she'd seen at the balls she'd attended with her parents.

and once more you were struck with her wonder.

"it's beautiful."

you sighed bittersweetly. "last one my mum ever made."

"Janna, y/n, i'm so sorry!"

you blinked at her until the penny dropped. "oh! no, she's not dead!" you chuckled, placing the violin back in its case and locking it shut. "she just had to give up the trade because materials became too scarce. and, you know, gotta afford to live."

"even so, that's quite sad," she said slowly, "which is exactly why you must let me pay you."

you sucked in air as you bit your lip. "oh, you are stubborn...!"

"wouldn't have ended up in this uniform if i wasn't."

a laugh bubbled up before you could stop it. you drew nearer, squinting into the haze far off to the left. "listen, one day i'll be performing up there."

Caitlyn followed your nod upward, finding the top of the crevice that formed the multi-level street. at the crest there was the blooming pale glow of the city far above. her home. the sheer distance abruptly stormed into her mind, and Caitlyn suddenly felt rather small. she kept a straight face, watching you, making sure you didn't notice.

no, you were caught up in your musings, a smirk on your lips. "once i'm up there, money won't even matter at all. and my mum can go back to making violins, violas, damn she may even be able to make a cello! and we'll get to live comfortably." and now there was a teasing glint in your eye. "perhaps... if you really want to help... you keep the cash on you, and instead put in a good word for me!"

"me?!"

you laughed, mirroring her in leaning on the railing, brushing her shoulder with yours. "yes, you! you're from up there, aren't you? or are you just some strange kiss-o-gram?"

"a what? no! how could i be—?" she laughed incredulously. "do people do that down here? dress up as—? to—?!"

"well, not that i've seen, but then again i'm not exactly one to buy their services." you couldn't hide your grin. "that being said, i think you'd be successful!"

"oh, stop it...!" she batted her hand, "this uniform is definitely not for protection that's for sure, but it's not... it's not good for that either—"

"i wasn't talking about the uniform, Caitlyn."

silence fell across the balcony. Caitlyn's eyes widened as her heart lurched. her thoughts swirled as she replayed what you'd said. as she blushed, she hoped the lights obscured it. meanwhile, the confidence that you had dripped from your smirk had dissipated in a moment.

"sorry, i didn't mean like, you would should go into that job or anything, i just meant that you are—um." you cleared your throat, readjusting your jacket hem.

as you did so Caitlyn caught your own flushed cheeks and looked away, biting her lip to keep herself from teasing you. "i know what you meant. thank you. and you're not too bad looking yourself!"

"that's good to know!" you fixed your hair. "i'm a performer, not just the musician. a double-threat! that's what makes me... successful." you trailed off again.

as quiet settled over the two of you, Caitlyn turned back to the sights below for a distraction. she opted to have another look for Vi in the crowds, though it was ineffective as she kept finding herself checking the corner of her eye, seeing what you were up to. your expression was rather plain, the tinge of awkwardness still there, but otherwise lost in thought. you were absently playing with your fingers.

cute, she thought. and in a desperate attempt to stop those thoughts from running their course, Caitlyn broached the silence. "so, these are your streets, right? the person that was leading me around, her name's Vi. do you know her?"

your brain leapt back into the real world, and straight into gear. you muttered the name a few times, before, "the name does sound familiar, but i haven't heard it in a while. a long while, now that i think about it."

"seven years? or so?"

you looked surprised. "well, if i had to give a more exact guess... but it's really hard to tell because a lot goes on down here. place changes more than the weather." you scratched the back of your neck. "sorry, i can't give you any more than that. i would like to help out if i can. do you know where you were headed?"

"um... no, she didn't say." Caitlyn avoided your gaze, scouring the passing crowds below instead once again. not that it was very effective, as she felt you watching her. wondering if she'd been caught out, she found herself glancing back to you. "what?"

"have you got a plan?"

she exhaled. "wait? i guess. easier for her to find me if i stay in one place. if she decides to look for me, that is."

you thought for a moment, folding your arms. "she'll come back for you." your words were firm.

"you think so?"

you snorted. "if she doesn't, well, she's pretty dumb. and i'll tell her that, if i run into her, how's that? ooh! i could write a song about her! at what a bad decision it was leaving you behind—!"

"there's no need for that! she's not... i'm not..." Caitlyn rolled her eyes, spinning round so that she had her back to the view. the lights only illuminated her back, now, and her face was cast half into shadow. as she tried to find her answer, searching for words that didn't seem to want to come together, your mind was spinning. your fingers itched to play. a new melody was finding its feet in your head. she was like the moon.

"i think i'd much rather have a song about me than the time i got left behind for not running fast enough...! as that would be embarrassing," she finally said, but soon after mumbled, "though would a song about me be any less?"

"absolutely." you knew she meant the first part as a joke, but your fingers were tapping the railing in a search for a rhythm. it was beginning to fall into sync with the first few bars of the new melody.

your eyes were sparkling. at first Caitlyn thought it was just the neon lights below, but there was something more tinging them.

"it wouldn't be embarrassing at all, Caitlyn. having a song about you is inevitable. it happens to all of us, eventually." you chewed your lip as the melody paused for a moment, waiting for more input. you mumbled, "it's doable. it's very doable..."

Caitlyn wanted to ask what you were talking about, but decided not to. cogs were turning in your head, and she didn't want to disrupt them.

the two of you had your backs resting against the railing. the glare of the lights below could only be reflected in your cheeks now, and even in the dark Caitlyn glowed. the melody sparked by her continued, while unbeknownst to you, she came to the same conclusion about you.

having to look upon her again to find the next part of the tune made you realise she was waiting. you hushed an apology, explaining, "what i mean is, inspiration can flow from many, many places. some flow like a brook, others like a fountain. occasionally you get the odd stone. but people aren't any different. and well, you..."

before you could continue, a cacophony of discordant loud shouts stomped over the melody as well as your peace. you recognised the sounds all too well: a fist cracking a bone, a body hitting the ground. you whipped round and peered down as she did. her brows furrowed until her expression melted into a sheepish grimace.

on the street was a scrap, though it was rather one sided. the stony man from earlier Caitlyn recognised, and he was trying to hold another man back, while a woman with pink hair shoved someone else to the ground.

"is... that your Vi?" you asked, bemused.

"well, i really wouldn't say she's mine. but yes, that's Vi."

you nodded in understanding, standing a little taller. "told you she'd come back."

she agreed with a small smile. although she pulled away from the railing, her feet came to a quick halt. "i should go down, shouldn't i?"

"probably, yeah."

"before she knocks someone out. or gets knocked out. most likely the first one."

"most definitely."

your eyes met. you distinctly wondered if she struggled to hold your gaze as you did hers. "come back here, sometime."

she paused, eyes narrowing. "will you be here?"

"well, i do have other places on my 'grand tour' if you will, but uh..." you trailed off, fake grandeur dissipating. "yeah. most likely. on the off-chance i'm not though, you can ask the bouncer, Po. they usually know where i'm headed."

there was a moment where you weren't sure she was going to agree.

"then i'll make sure to do that."

you barely hid your shaky exhaled breath as your heartbeat returned to somewhat-normal. you were somewhat grateful for the chorus of shouts that picked up again for bringing you back to earth. you searched vacantly for the source below, giving yourself an excuse to look away. "you really need to go. best of luck handling everything!"

she thanked you, hastily making her way towards the ladder. when you heard her footfalls you instantly turned away from the light of the street. seeing her back, you cursed yourself out. that was your last chance to take in her features before she left—because who knew what the future held? you certainly would be praying to any god that would listen that she would find her way back so you could talk to her again, but this was the Undercity. and she was from Piltover. she was an enforcer. the realisation of how much luck had swayed in your way that night sunk in and winded you. as well as the confusion.

but right then, before your very eyes, she stopped. she was stood next to the ladder. and then she was a step away from it, her back no longer turned to you. it was dark in the shadows but there was her smile. and you were enraptured.

"i just wanted to say, y/n, i really enjoyed your song."

her voice, too. you committed it to memory—her sweet tone, her accent. you barely registered the high words of praise she was giving you.

"you deserve to have the grandest stage in Piltover."

Caitlyn watched you fumble for words, your mouth hanging open like a fish. she would've laughed if she hadn't felt just as silly doing such a dramatic turn around. she felt as if she was in one of those flimsy romance books. regret washed over her until she remembered that they always had happy endings. and considering the street she was about to run into again, the leering not-quite-man from earlier, the trail she was following, and the light-hearted nature of this moment coming to an end—that idea was rather comforting.

once your brain had thoroughly short-circuited, you mustered up: "thank you. that means a lot. especially from you."

her smile was small. "i'll see you soon."

she said it with such certainty that despite everything, you believed her.

"we'll see each other again, Caitlyn." you gave her a wave, which she mirrored.

and before you could register it, she had dipped down the ladder and was out of sight. she was gone.

well, she's not gone just yet, you reasoned, she's just a level below.

but then you waited, counting the seconds. she was likely down the stairs by now, you guessed. and then out of the door. you heard the bell ring, you could've sworn it.

but your feet didn't move. you just stood wordless in the dark. her laugh replayed in your thoughts, and the first thing you looked at after she left was your violin.

her melody began to play in your head.

☾ ₊ ˚ ✩ ˚ ｡ ☽

masterlist | buy me a hot chocolate <3

[thotsforvillainrights]

~A lovely gift~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up

The sweet peace of Sunday evening was quickly shattered by the sound of loud clanging in the distance. Chisaki was not pleased in the least bit. He grumbled as he rolled over in bed and realized three things were wrong at the moment. 

First you weren’t by his side, and second he was woken up early and against his will on his own off day. Third was that damn clanging in the kitchen that just would not cease! Finally he couldn’t take it anymore and gathered himself to trudge down the hallway and seek it (and whoever was the cause of it) out. 

You turned around and your eyes met with golden one’s dripping with murderous intent. They quickly diffused into mild annoyance when he realized it was you in the kitchen. “Angel, I thought you were one of the Precepts. What are you doing in here causing this racket? It’s giving me a migraine.” He complains as he lazily shuffles over to the coffee machine and starts brewing his favorite cup. He watched you closely as you continued gathering your messy materials into the sudsy sink. “I’m baking, silly.” You replied with a wink before turning your back and washing the dishes. He took a seat at the kitchen table and watched you for a long time. He wasn’t even aware of the small smile creeping its way onto his face until you chuckled lightly and got his attention. “Lost in thought?” You teased and he rolled his eyes, taking a sip of the coffee. 

He’d taken some time to begin reading an article on his phone while you tidied up and you treats baked in the oven. It wasn’t a particularly rewarding job but you knew he didn’t prefer to do most (or really any) of the chores so it was up to you and Pops to get the cleaning done. After a while the smell wafting from the oven began to take over the entire kitchen. It also caught his attention fairly quickly as well. He caught sight of you just in time to watch you pull a cake from the oven. He was quiet but attentive as he watched you finish tidying up before cooling the baked good and preparing to decorate it. The entire time his mouth was watering and he was praying you didn’t hear the sound of his stomach rumbling as well. He wanted to ask you for a slice...just a nibble. Suppose you knew it was coming since you smiled widely at him after you finished decorating it. To his surprise, you slid the cake over to him and watched his expression morph into slight confusion. “Y/N, what-”

“It’s for you.” You interrupt him. You rummage around in your pocket for the finishing touches to your masterpiece. You place a candle atop the cake and light it. “Happy Birthday, Kai.”

What a lovely gift indeed.

[quietlyblooms]

perhaps the most tragic thing about chiyo's au's like m.ha is that her dog jun has to live with her parents : ( she's gone for too long every day to keep him in her apartment : ( he'd never get the attention and care he needs if she kept him : (

[sysig]

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