#or those damn lotuses

[kradogsrats]

ghosts

don't follow me for ruuthari/moonfam content you will be disappoint

[pomefioredove]

Can I have a chocolate cookie, #1, with frosting and chestnuts? :3

HEHE ofc! actually the first thing I've written in ages that I actually really like :3

order #1, chocolate with frosting, chestnuts

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in sickness and in health

summary: just a little cold tropes: only one bed, sic fic characters: rollo additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is yuu, cuddling

Infernal cold.

Damn it, damn it, damn it!

Rollo coughs into the sleeve of his student council robes, snot and spit darkening the fabric.

He can't remember the last time he's been such a mess.

It must have been one of those Night Raven College devils. He hasn't been this sick since-

"President, you look unwell," his vice president says, hand on his hip. "Are you ill?"

"Absolutely not. I'm perfectly well,"

His voice is hoarse and scratchy. Each breath of cold air stings the back of his throat, and yet he can't breathe through his nose...

"You were up all night clearing the school of fire lotuses. You're exhausted," says his aide.

"I'm fine,"

"President,"

It's a losing battle (he just cannot win any, lately), and his defeat is spelled in the embers of the dying fire in his room.

The door is locked from the outside, a chair placed under its handle. To keep him in, as if he were an animal... though, it wasn't without reason. Rollo would work himself to death if he were allowed. Temperance has never been kind to him.

"Rollo?"

He jolts at the sound. Surprise is an odd look on the council president, but he's had a lot of it, lately.

Especially from you.

"What are you- who let you in here?" he asks. You look just miserable- tired and dull, sniffling and coughing just like...

...Well, him.

But, (and this is what Rollo was truly fixated on), you are miserable in his room. In his bed.

"Your, um... vice president put me in here. Quarantine. It's the only dorm room with a fireplace, for warmth, he said..."

Damn it.

"I see," Rollo sniffles, and dabs his handkerchief under his nose. "I'm sorry to hear that you're feeling unwell."

"You don't sound too good, either,"

True enough. Rollo allows himself the indulgence of sitting close to you, his hands folded neatly in his lap.

"I seem to have come down with a cold, yes. Do your... friends know you're here?"

"I don't know,"

Good, he thinks. The last thing he needs is to be accused of holding their beloved pet prisoner in-

Rollo stiffens. He feels you tug at his sleeve again, thrice more, like a small child, or a petulant goat...

"What is it?" he asks, voice almost trembling, "Can I get you something?"

Another tug. You pull his hand out of his lap. You're asking him to come closer.

Rollo feels his body still.

If he weren't already so pale from sickness, he certainly would have gone white.

"...Is that truly what you want?"

You nod.

"What would your friends think?"

"They aren't here,"

Rollo's heart thrums in his chest. There's something so... satisfying about that. He wants to hear you say it again...

"Are you certain?"

"They won't know," you insist. "I think you need it, too."

Rollo would, in health and the right state of mind, dislike having such assumptions made about him. Even if they're entirely correct.

Luckily, he's not exactly lucid, and your offer is almost as tempting as the sight of the blankets over your body.

"Very well," he concedes, as if it were a chore, and he removes his shoes and hat and lies beside you.

It's as if you were never strangers. Or, perhaps, as if you were- as if you had just forgotten about all that he'd done and said in the past two days. Your arms come around his waist, holding him to you, your head on his shoulder.

His head on yours.

You're warm. So is he. It's the sickness, he tells himself, but he does allow himself this one fantasy, that your warmth is from each other.

"Comfortable?" he mutters. You nod against him.

"Hm. Then I'm pleased. I did say that I would make sure you enjoyed your time here, after all- in sickness and in health."

[estcaligo]

I Am Your Crime, I Am Your Punishment

Rollo x Reader A drabble. Romantic. Angst. Why did you lie about being magicless? He pitied you, surrounded by those filthy mages. He wanted to save you. He thought you understood him.

And yet, you bewitched him - like some cunning magical creature. Your voice, your eyes, your smile, your scent. What kind of potion did those monsters let you use?

Because there was no other explanation for this. It couldn't happen - not to him, the president of the college council. Not after years of diligence and restraint. And yet, all those ugly thoughts, all those sleepless nights in front of the fireplace - you were there, taunting him, dancing in the flames, luring him into the heat.

He first saw you dancing at the market fair. And then, you approached him at the ball.

That day, he also committed the unthinkable - dancing with the devil himself, Malleus Draconia, be he damned.

But even that didn't hurt like the touch of your skin against his, burning like hellfire.

You never knew it was him who was responsible for the "sea of fire", the Crimson Lotuses. You still believed he was good and chaste, and that killed him even more.

…It was too brief, yet the spark you ignited in that first moment had created more fire than he ever expected. Stolen glances, coffee together, a short walk along the waterway - you drew closer each time. A whisper, a touch, a promise…

He shouldn't have allowed it in the first place. He had broken every oath, every vow he had made to keep his mind clear, his heart in order. But you bewitched him. And you knew it. At times, it seemed like you even enjoyed it. He shouldn't have…

Because you are leaving anyway.

"Whatever happened doesn't matter."

As the NRC and NBC groups exchange goodbyes, no one pays attention to the two of you standing apart.

"I will forget you shortly," Rollo adds, exterior cold and unyielding.

"Oh, but you won't."

Leaning in, your voice barely a whisper in his ear. Just as you had whispered other words days ago.

"You will never forget me,"

And you pull away, locking eyes with him.

"For I am your crime, and I am your punishment."

He watches you walk away, having nothing to say. Your spell hasn't been lifted.

He raises his handkerchief to his face, trying to cover the shame and disgust - toward himself, first and foremost. And the sorrow of disbelief.

Because you are right.

You are his crime. You are his punishment.

[randomciabatta724]

Some Polites headcanons because they're good for the soul.

Note: these are a mix of details from the musical I wanted to expand on, stuff I've read from other posts, and things I randomly came up with.

He was in the frontlines (or at least near them) during the Trojan war. Not because he wanted to fight, he just thought "if I have to join the battle, I'll at least shield those behind me". I took this from Survive, because he had to be pretty close to Polyphemus to be the first one hit by the club.

Self sacrificial. Very self sacrificial. Would die for the crew, especially for Odysseus and Eurylochus.

Loves dates. Either on their own or with honey. I don't know why, he just gives me the vibe.

Had night terrors both during and after the war. Either nightmares about the people he killed (let's face it, you don't come out of a 10 year war without getting blood on your hands) or his friends dying in battle. Never explicitly told anyone, but he would stay with his friends a little longer the morning after. Also picked a lot more night watch turns as a result, just to get his mind off of things.

Bruises/gets injured extremely easily, and doesn't notice/care. Especially if someone else is hurt too. "Are you alright?" asks Polites to another soldier while coughing up blood.

Also very durable, somehow. That's why Polyphemus had to hit him twice/j.

Myopic king. The glasses are a gift from Athena, because she was like "I think you're a soft-hearted fool, but I'll be damned if you embarrass my Warrior of the Mind because you can't see beyond the bridge of your nose".

The type of person to keep eating horrible/possibly poisoned food just to not offend the person who prepared it. Odysseus had to smack the lotus out of his hand because he would have still taken a bite to not make the lotus eaters upset (he brought some with him anyway, that's where Odysseus got the lotuses to put in the wine).

Many have already said this, he's the therapist friend before therapy was invented.

Gives the best hugs.

Taller than Odysseus but shorter than Eurylochus (Odysseus reaches Polites' chest, Polites reaches Eurylochus' nose).

Apologises when he bumps into furniture. It's a reflex, he doesn't notice he does it. It's a remnant of his pre-glasses days, when he couldn't distinguish a person from a vase.

The ancient Greek equivalent of a Godfather to Telemachus.

Extremely trusting, sometimes a little too much (fun fact: in the Odyssey he's like the first one to enter Circe's palace).

Very forgiving. He gives second, third, even fourth chances like it's nothing, no matter how badly someone hurts him. You have to be pretty forgiving to still think about greeting the world with open arms after being clubbed to death. (Note: this does not apply to his friends getting hurt).

When he takes off his bandana, his curls reach his shoulders and cover his left eye, and it gives him a whole different vibe. He still radiates warmth, but it's not the same. Kinda like the sun at noon and the sun at dusk. The second is still warm and welcoming, but dimmer, softer, maybe a little darker. People have mistaken him for someone else because of this.

Super heavy sleeper. One time when they were younger, Odysseus and Eurylochus decided to try and wake him up by making the most noise possible. They did not succeed.

His first kiss was Eurylochus while Odysseus was away in Sparta to court Penelope.

One time, someone tried to rob him. The guy was like "Give me your money!" and Polites was like "Oh dear, look at you, of course I'll give you my money, you look like you really need it. Also, why don't you come to my house so I can give you some food and clean clothes?". The thief was so ashamed of himself he ran away.

He befriended Charon in the Underworld.

You know the plague that Apollo sent during the Iliad? He may or may not have gotten it, I haven't decided yet.

Considering that in epic the sirens have the ability to shapeshift into loved ones, there was definitely a siren Polites somewhere during Suffering/Different Beast.

He's generally a very calm person, the only thing that really gets him angry is when his friends get hurt. And when he's angry, he's not someone to mess with. He can and will kick ass. And the thing that rubs salt in the wound is that if you get beat up by Polites, it's almost certainly your fault, because Polites isn't the kind of person that goes around randomly beating people up. And very few people wish to carry the title "The person who got beat up by Polites".

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

The last headcanon is something I've also based a scenario on. Basically, after Odysseus kills the suitors, they go to the Underworld. Most of them are still shaken up by the whole thing, which is understandable, getting shot by an enemy you can't see while unarmed in the dark is not fun, but not Antinous. Antinous is pissed. And so he rallies up the other suitors, he gives a whole speech where he basically says they can get revenge on Odysseus once he joins them there and also reveals all the shit they did while he was gone. And Polites is like, talking to Eurylochus or something, when he overhears. And so he goes to give Antinous the beating of his life because you do **not** disrespect his best friend and his family like that. And the suitors+Eurylochus are watching from a corner, with the suitors getting even more scared.

That's it. Nothing more :)

I know Eurylochus is married to Ctimene but I SHIP HIM AND POLITES SO BAD AAAAAAAAHHHHHH

[py-dreamer]

Ok so I might've gone over time again a lil bit BUT I STILL MADE IT!!!

"Why is it Nezha? First Mk, then Mei, why Nezha? Shouldn't it be Pigsy or Tang or Red Son? Why are you robbing the less popular characters their spotli-"

SHUSH!!!!

Ok so a reason I made Nezha next, is cause I have an upcoming project due soon and I require our 3rd lotus princey over here to come help me.

Look it's an art thingy and the theme is 'Legacy of the gods' and I did chinese mythology not LMK. As such I couldn't pick an lmk exclusive character like Mk or Mei. Furthermore, since it was about the 'gods' specifically, I'm more focused on the deities and less demons the like.

Also a lot of my project has featured so much JTTW, and I'm sure it definitely will in future...So to break up from that and for a bit of variety, I've added in our lotus friend.

(I mean, I suppose I could've done Chang'e but I just decided Nezha had more myths so he was my best bet)

And I couldn't do Wukong. Cause I'm already doing another piece with him, I made two stickers of him already. They will know I have favorites. And I do, I know I do but damn it if I don't wanna show it so obviously!!!

Actually, originally I had like a list of who I wanted to do and it was mostly like main cast of lmk with some fan favorites/my favs here and there and Nezha was towards the bottom but I moved him up due to the reasons above. And I was going to do Pigsy and Tang today but that's not how things turned out, I'll still do them just everyone's gonna have to be moved up in the list now.

Don't ask me what kinda cake it is, if I had to guess some kinda cheesecake with like a thin layer of jelly on top. The pink/red contributes to his main color scheme and the blue jelly makes it look like a pond and all the decorations and lotuses on top look like they're floating in water.

And I suppose it's different from Mk and Mei's cause like the KNY arts have different cakes sometimes why not do the same for these guys? And Nezha is a prince, and the patron god of children! I think he deserves something nice. (I used Giyu's cake for reference)

The filling is strawberries again, hopefully better drawn this time and actually sakura petals instead of lotus ones. I don't know why I used sakura petals, the color is more like lotuses but the shape is inspired after sakura so maybe it's a hybrid.

I do enjoy that it is more detailed than the previous two (especially since I'm using it for a project-)

I actually had a lot of trouble thinking of the sugar cookies cause there's not much associated with Nezha other than his lotus theme and his weaponry. Like at least Mei had her sword and her dragon insignia in different styles! I didn't wanna just do lotuses for like 3 times so I did his universal ring and that golden brick from that one episode. And yes, that brick is an actual thing in the mythos, it's not just a quick visual gag.

I did copy paste the frosting swirls and shells from Mei, don't @ me pls they just looked cool, I needed something to jush up the cake and COME ON THEY LOOK COOL HOW COULD I NOT

No I did not change the color but the minty green broke up all the pink and gold nicely, I think...

I did add the lotus flower and that green thing that triggers ur tripophobia is a lotus fruit. So for those who don't know, lotuses are edible! Not water lilies though. There's a difference. And lotuses can be made into lotus jam and it's delicious! I do recommend trying a lotus jam bao at least once.

Now I know Nezha is a chinese deity and mochi/dango is japannese but Idk what other desert to use and I didn't feel tanghulu fit the vibe...

But yea, those are his flaming fire wheels he skates on, that's why they're on fire, no it's not the rings of the samadhi fire. (I'll be saving that for RS) though now, I do wish I'd just done the outline in a darker shade to make it look like it was an actual image grilled into the mochi rather than a sticker slapped on.

The sneks! Omg! I almost forgot about them! But yea, those are the golden serpent shears we saw in that one episode. They are a bit last minute but I think they turned out decently well. Lil bleps.

Then we have the fire tipped spear and yes, that is Ao Bing. I'm sorry, I know I said I shipped them, and I still do (I see lmk nezha as both mentally and physically an adult don't try me) but damn that idea popped into my head and it was funny. He's fine...I think

(also funny to think Mei's is all dragon oriented and here's Nezha and Ao bing like bleep)

The reason the ribbon is so long is cause it's the goddamn armillary sash that Nezha uses, and it's its own canon magic thing, why not let it be longer and yes I did add some white detail but I just thought it looked more finished and it's a celebration! Let him be festive!

I really like the pose like Nezha receiving a lil present. I think he's the kind of person to not expect presents but be pleasantly surprised at them.

And btw that balloon has lily pads, it's not a globe. I know they should be elevated for lotuses but I can't exactly make the leaves pop out.

So later today should be Tang and pigsy hopefully!

(Also I've noticed a trend in general lmk posts. Ships, duos, trios basically anything with a relationship of some kind always do better than just one character so if I had to guess this like my other birthday posts won't do that well)

Oh and @leesbian42, before I forget, happy almost birthday! If I remember correctly you're turning like 24 right?

[delighteddistractions555]

Random Rant In Fanfic Form

I posted this in the Nezha Fanclub on communities and now I’m posting this here. 🙃

Nezha was minding his own business working as usual. His desk is occupied by court documents and a mug of hot coffee. He had just finished 2/3rds of his work when he heard a dog’s growl and the sound of large boots. He glanced up to see a familiar pair-er, set of three eyes. Oh no, just why?

“My peace has been disturbed and my day is ruined.” He glared at Erlang Shen. Damn the elder war deity for abusing the Third Lotus Prince’s “tolerance” for him. The demigod only chuckled as he leaned against his desk, “Is that any way to speak to your incredibly caring and handsome senior brother?” He smirked. 

“Oh sure!! Whatever helps you sleep at night, gramps.” The younger prince snorted. Wrong sentence because the next moment he found himself in the older man’s arms. “Pppfftt, I’m not THAT much older than you brat. But you are more youthfully cuter than me~” He teased smugly. Nezha let out a long exasperated sigh only reserved for damn bastards or equally damn war siblings as Erlang and Iron Fan. “What do you want mutt?”

“Just kidnapping you.”

“Oh fine then I’ll-………..Run that by me again.”

“Nope. You’re definitely not deaf Nezzie.”

“ERLANG SHEN IF YOU DARE-“

One hour of feral screaming later….

“At least tell me WHY you are doing this!!” Nezha grumbled as he crossed his arms in his “human” outfit. A pink hoodie with lotuses, jeans, and red sneakers with white lotus print. The elder demigod laughed at the younger god’s expression. The older deity dressed in a black leather jacket, grey T-shirt, black jeans, and still wearing those stupid boots. Xiaotian’s golden markings were masked by a simple illusion and his gold collar switched for a spiky red one with a skull tag. 

“Guess what time of year it is.” Erlang grinned. “Bastard Season.” Nezha's eyes rolled. Erlang huffed as he replied, “No smart aleck, it’s my Uncle’s birthday. And what better present to give him then-“ “Pissing off his Majesty by kidnapping me. But Erlang, your uncle is dead and my dad is the emperor now!” The younger immortal cut in. The taller warrior gently placed a hand over the smaller one’s mouth. 

“Let me finish. I damn know that and I wish I knew what the damn was happening before Wukong’s successor was forced to fix everything. I don’t care if I’m not emperor-but I DO care about what happened to you in the aftermath of all the DBK-sized crap I missed out on.” The lotus prince softened as he gently removed the bigger god’s hand, but he did hold onto it. He said even more gently, “Erlang. It wasn’t your fault. You were banished from the Three Realms and despite what his late Majesty has to say-it wasn’t fair. 

Honestly, I’m just glad we managed to find you after all this time. Or at least spare those poor inhabitants of the world you were stuck on…Still, I’m just relieved my dad finally had the sense to bring you back after nearly screwing everything in the Color Stone mess.” The nephew of the previous Jade Emperor snorted, “I’m not surprised. Uncle only kept me around because I was “useful”. With how the Celestial Court is in shambles, of course they would bring back this old dog to be useful.”

Nezha immediately backtracked, “No!! That’s not what I meant-“ Erlang held up a hand, “No. I know you don’t mean that. But other people do, especially the ones in power. Only valuing people for their utility as if people were no better then frigging tools if not toys. However, you and I are on the same boat in terms of how others value us. And I’m not standing for it.” 

The younger warrior looked up with puzzlement at the elder one, “Nezha. You were basically forced once to throw away all of your eternal life for a damn map. A MAP. I know damn well it was integral in keeping the Samadhi Fire unforged forever. But did it mean you had to give up your life and your own godly responsibilities?! Isn’t there a reason why guards take damn shifts?! And don’t get me started on when you had to fend off Azure ALONE. With only a half a millennia old demon brat and of course the armies of Heaven.

BUT, none of the other war gods, generals, and warriors couldn’t step in to protect their “precious Emperor”?! What about your own damn brothers and father?! Did they really just sit back just to watch you get pummeled by a rebellion that nearly overthrew heaven?!?! Oh and my dearly departed and wonderfully wise uncle…” Erlang sneered the last part as he continued, “The old man was sick and suffering this whole time from holding the power of the universe. So pitifully sick he just let DBK, Spider Queen, and that damn bone lady almost get away with their wretched ploys…But of course the stubborn fool refused to get any help or let ANYONE KNOW until it was well too late. That damn bastard just kneeled over and let a freaking, flipping kitty cat take his power and indirectly, lead the ENTIRE world as we know it to its doom!!”

“At least I managed to seal it temporarily…” Nezha tried to cut off the rant short because he still hadn’t a clue what the demigod was getting at. That only seemed to fuel Erlang’s fire more, “OH! And for fending off Azure mostly by yourself and saving the Three Realms from becoming roasted turkey by sealing the Jade Emperor’s power. Even if temporarily. You get freaking demoted and forced to stand by while your sorry excuse for a father fumbles the whole-universe-egg-cracking-mess and NEARLY LETS SOME SNAKE FREAK DOOM EVERYTHING AGAIN!!! HOW IS THAT FAIR?!?!” The taller god hotly demanded. 

Nezha squeezed Erlang’s hand a little tighter, “As touched as I am by your concern. Just cut to the chase already! How does this relate to me besides the fact I got humiliated three times over by defeat despite being a God of Victory?!” He hissed. The demigod gazed at the shorter god with all three of his eyes, “Because I damn care for you. That’s why.” The younger immortal knew his fellow war god wasn’t one to lie, especially to those he trusted. He turned his head away feeling somewhat heavy in chest.

How many times have Nezha heard someone say they cared-only to find himself standing completely alone? Too many times actually…

As if indeed Erlang read his mind, the demigod spoke up, “I should have been there for you. Doesn’t matter if I was banished or not, you should not have been left all alone. I would think someone would watch over you. But, that turned out to be wishful thinking didn’t it? Despite all you've done, despite how much you’ve grown, it seems as if no one cares about you. Not even your own frigging family.”

The truth was so painful Nezha had to speak up, “Fine! So it’s true!! I have been alone for ages and I can confidently say no one hardly cares about what happened to me!! But-but, I…..” The Third Lotus Prince looked up with the flickering flame of longing in his eyes. “Erlang…..I, I was the one who suggested to dad to bring you back. Because I wanted to-“ The younger god never got to finish his sentence before being lifted up into the arms of the older god.

Erlang hung onto him not too tight, but secure enough not to let his junior brother fall. Nezha held on just as desperately, unwilling to lose what he once thought was gone forever. After a few minutes of silence Erlang finally spoke up, “This time, we’re sticking together. You, me, and Xiao. I’m not letting you go again didi…” The smaller warrior sighed deeply, feeling relieved by that statement. 

Then a small frown crossed his face, “Will have to return to the Celestial Realm from time to time, for work. Heaven still needs every god available.” The larger warrior grumbled as he gazed at Nezha in annoyance, “You’re a damn workaholic you know that? And why should we even bother to help those fools? But then again, we are probably the only rare few left that can keep the ship running.” The rebellious demigod relented with an ever-suffering groan.

Nezha crackled lightly as he punched his senior brother’s arm. “If it quits your whining, I’ll take over the cooking. And you have free reign to terrorize anyone that tries to “rescue” me from your horrible clutches.” Erlang smiled wickedly as a foolproof scheme to borrow the Monkie Kid’s staff to smash Li Jing into the fourth wall and beyond crystallized into his brain. “But you have to let my dad live or you'll end up as emperor if not arrested or executed.” His junior brother warned him sternly. 

Xiaotian could only hold back a canine smirk as he watched his master growl from being denied the pleasure of delivering well-earned karma (revenge). “Hey!! Your dad DID help uncle banish me you little punk. I deserve some compensation for being knocked out of the ballgame for the last five centuries!!” Erlang argued petulantly. Nezha rolled his eyes as he retorted, “I think kidnapping me and earning my cooking services for life should be compensation enough.” The demigod holding him gave him a look that said otherwise.

The “hostage” resisted slapping his “kidnapper” as he added, “I can bake and brew tea.” “I’m counting those both in the cooking category and I’m not totally helpless. I brew my own tea just fine.” Erlang replied stubbornly. The lotus prince groaned, he could not believe he was actually defending his crappy father from a guy he wouldn’t mind running Li Jing over with a bus. Still, it had to be done. Or he could forget having some semblance of a happy(?) life. “You can overrule any order he gives me if you don’t deem it fit.” Nezha gave his final offer. 

Fortunately for the sake of Heaven and one unpopular pagoda king, the three-eyed demigod seemed to be satisfied by the prospect of gaining protection for his junior brother and leeway in tormenting Li Jing in the bargain. “I say that’s fair enough for me kiddo.” He ruffled Nezha’s hair as he readjusted the smaller war deity in his hold. Nezha allowed himself to get comfy in his senior brother’s embrace. “Hey gēgē, how long and how well have you been planning this kidnapping?” Erlang couldn’t help but feel a little fuzzy when his adorable junior brother called him that. 

The celestial half-blood answered, “Believe it or not, Wukong has actually been gracious to me. I’m pretty sure I owe the idiot a bunch of favors by now. Still, it’s worth it in the long run now that I’m more or less acclimated to the modern era. The moronic peach lover has been introducing me to the new age for the last couple of months. And by a stroke of luck we found my old territory. So it didn’t take long for me to reclaim it, clean out the monsters, and rebuild my old house there.”

“We’re going to have that damn simian visiting us often aren’t we?” The kidnapped prince deadpanned. Erlang cringed with a grimace, “Yeah, but better tolerating Wukong then living by others’ rules right?” Nezha soon found himself agreeing, “I’m not looking for a perfect life, but I am not settling for being the lone soldier boy anymore. I rather fight for the world by your side than by my father’s.” The ex-heavenly prince hugged Nezha happily in response to this. Xiaotian wagged his tail happily from how everything was turning out for both of his masters.

“Hey Erlang, what are you in the mood for tonight? I can cook-“

“Actually Lil Lotus will just get takeout. You might want to take it easy for tonight. In fact, let’s just take a small break from Heaven. At least three days….”

“……..Yang Jian, what. Did. You. DO?!?!”

“Hey!! To be fair your garbage excuse for a dad had it coming!! And I’m sure he can rule the Celestial Realm easily enough without it!”

“ERLANG YOU DIDN’T-“

“I fully apologize little brother, but I don’t regret anything at all.”

[rosethornewrites]

Fic: the gentle light that strays and vanishes and returns, ch. 2

Relationships: Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin & Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin & Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji

Characters: Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin, Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Lan Yuan | Lan Sizhui

Additional Tags: POV Third Person, POV Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin, Grief/Mourning, Anger, Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin & Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian Reconciliation, Snark, Regret, Past Character Death, Podfic Welcome

Summary: Jin Ling arrives and they visit the ancestral shrine.

Notes: See end

AO3 link

Part 4 of the try to praise the mutilated world series.

Chapter 1

-------------

He somehow survives dinner, at which Wei Wuxian is oddly quiet, dressed in robes he had the servants put in his wardrobe so he knew damn well he found them, carrying both Chenqing and Suibian, and no he doesn’t feel any particular way about either except… good. He should wear those clothes and carry his sword. But Jiang Cheng sure as hell isn’t going to address either, not with Lan Wangji around. 

He makes sure to mention Jin Ling’s eminent arrival, probably the next day, asks that they not visit the ancestral shrine until then, and escapes as quickly as he can. 

Not quickly enough to avoid Lan Sizhui, who shows up at his office all polite to ask questions about growing lotuses. Jiang Cheng doubts they’d survive on that damnable mountain, but he thought the same thing about the Burial Mounds and Wei Wuxian got them to grow anyway. 

And so Jiang Cheng gives him a brief lecture on the growing of lotuses, and offers to introduce him to a local farmer. 

“They may not survive the winters in the Cloud Recesses,” he warns. “Though if you throw the problem to Wei Wuxian he’ll probably develop a brand new talisman to ensure they will.”

That gets a small chuckle from the boy, and he feels weirdly proud to have elicited it. Probably he has the same mental image Jiang Cheng does, of Wei Wuxian hunched over talisman paper, ink staining his fingers and probably his nose from his habit of rubbing it with one finger when he thinks. 

“Thank you, Jiang-zongzhu,” Lan Sizhui says with a bow. 

“Jiang-shushu, if Wei Wuxian is your die,” he corrects.

The boy should have always been his nephew, had things gone differently, but they can’t change the past; they can only move forward. If that’s even an option. 

Lan Sizhui’s smile widens and for a moment he is transported back to the Burial Mounds, the kid attached to his leg and grinning up at him. 

“Of course, Jiang-shushu,” the kid says, before exiting and leaving him blessedly alone to decidedly not tear up over the whole thing. 

He feels strangely lighter, something that barely makes sense even as it makes total sense, nonsensical in its contradiction. 

Hopefully he can get through the next few days with his sanity intact. 

He spends some time dealing with correspondence, then runs the late evening remedial training he instituted to help disciples struggling with forms. Both provide distractions, though with a letter from Yao-zongzhu he had to reply to, he can’t say they were all good. 

Jiang Cheng knows he can’t avoid Wei Wuxian forever, nor does he want to, and so he’s not entirely surprised to see his brother sitting at the edge of a pier overlooking the lotus ponds, his form lit up by the light of the waning half moon reflecting off the water. He has a servant retrieve some Lotus Breeze for them to share, knowing full well it’s better to do this with drink, too many emotions not to. It’s past Lan Wangji’s bedtime, so they shouldn’t be disturbed. 

He doesn’t know what to say, so he settles for saying nothing, just sitting down by Wei Wuxian and placing one of the bottles next to him. Wei Wuxian gropes for it without looking and takes a long drag, letting the alcohol spill from his mouth down his chin, and it’s such a familiar picture that Jiang Cheng could be back before the war, drinking on the pier with his brother. 

“You still wear your wine instead of drinking it,” he finds himself saying. 

Wei Wuxian only grins at him, taking the ribbing for what it is, and something in Jiang Cheng relaxes. 

“It’s about time you came home,” he says, purposefully looking at the moon instead of his brother. 

“I didn’t know if you’d want me here,” Wei Wuxian responds after a moment. 

“You’re an idiot,” he mutters, taking a deep swig of his own wine. “I should’ve just invited you, I guess, but you’ve never needed an invitation before.”

That receives a short laugh, but something in Wei Wuxian goes distant, like he’s many li away from Lotus Pier, and Jiang Cheng knows he’s thinking about A-Jie. 

He wants to kick himself—of course Wei Wuxian would think he needed an invitation; he probably still thought A-Jie’s death was his fault. Not that Jiang Cheng is any help there, having blamed him very publicly for the sixteen years of his death. 

But even if he wasn’t proven innocent, the victim of a smear campaign and a second flute, A-Jie pushed him aside to take that sword, gave her life for him. And Jiang Cheng had gone and cheapened that all these years, even trying to kill him as Lan Wangji tried to save him. 

No wonder the other man hates him. 

He pushes himself out of the spiral, knowing it does no good. What’s done is done, separate from what he does now. 

“Anyway, you’re home now. That’s what matters,” Jiang Cheng says, nudging his brother to get him out of his own spiral. 

Wei Wuxian looks at him with startled eyes, then smiles and has another sip of his wine. 

They sit and drink together until it’s clear to Jiang Cheng that Wei Wuxian is falling asleep where he sits, and then he bullies him to his feet and escorts him to the quarters he’s sharing with Lan Wangji. 

Tomorrow is another day, and Jin Ling will be arriving before midday. 

Wei Wuxian looks like a painted ghost at breakfast, having clearly slept poorly despite Jiang Cheng’s best intentions, and he can only hope his brother doesn’t fall asleep right into his congee. Lan Sizhui keeps to Lan expectations about silence during meals, and Jiang Cheng almost wishes they’d brought the loud Lan just so it wouldn’t be so quiet. 

Lan Wangji makes sure Wei Wuxian eats at least a little. 

Jiang Cheng arranges a boat for them to take on the lakes, even though there are no lotus seeds to eat this time of year. He hopes Wei Wuxian enjoys it, at least—he could care less about whether Lan Wangji enjoys it. By the time they’re back Jin Ling should have arrived. 

Lan Sizhui demurs rather than go on a boat, and Jiang Cheng recalls he gets seasick, or at least did on the trip to Lotus Pier after the failed siege of the Burial Mounds, so instead he introduces him to a lotus farmer so he can learn about the planting and cultivation of lotuses for what he presumes is a secret project for Wei Wuxian. 

That leaves Jiang Cheng to his own devices until Jin Ling arrives, and he focuses on answering correspondence and not losing his temper at Ouyang-zongzhu’s ridiculous letter about walking corpses supposedly being the work of Wei Wuxian, who clearly is in no condition to fuck around with the undead right now, and who was in Gusu until yesterday besides. 

Afterward, he spends his time going through the routine of Jiang moves, calming himself through the fluid movement, until he’s interrupted by a familiar voice, “Jiujiu.”

He hopes Jin Ling won’t mind Wei Wuxian’s presence for his mother’s birthday, and is relieved when his nephew only nods and asks if they brought Jingyi or Sizhui with them. 

Of course Jin Ling abandons him to go find Lan Sizhui, and they’re having lotus and pork rib soup for lunch and Jiang Cheng has no idea how Wei Wuxian will handle it because it’s not perfect like Jie’s. Because he’s not handling it, clearly, looking like a damn walking corpse and too quiet, and Jiang Cheng isn’t able to handle a Wei Wuxian who isn’t handling it well. 

Because his brother is supposed to bounce back. 

Only he remembers that first year after Jie died and his chest felt as hollowed-out as it did after Wen Zhuliu crushed his core all over again, even with Wei Wuxian’s spinning in its place. And he’d had two sets of anniversaries happening, two siblings dead, a sect to run, and a colicky nephew to take care of on top of it all. 

It’s not even just Jie for Wei Wuxian, who’d gone to Nightless City because Wen Qing and Wen Ning had been killed, one for real and the other faked, along with the other Wens he’d lived with for those last years; his brother who’d lost so much more that awful year, enough for Jie’s death to finish breaking him when he’d always bounced back before.  

Or maybe he hadn’t, but he hid it when he could, and Jiang Cheng didn’t look closely because he didn’t, and still doesn’t, know how to handle a Wei Wuxian who isn’t handling it. But this time he’s looking closer, trying to do something about it, because the alternative is to watch his brother break again, and that’s not happening. 

He stops spiraling with the help of some tea and meditation, and by that time Wei Wuxian is back with Lan Wangji, and Jin Ling is back with Lan Sizhui, and it’s lunchtime. At least Wei Wuxian looks a little less like a walking ghost, though the soup may mess that up. 

The worst thing about his relationship with Wei Wuxian is that Jiang Cheng doesn’t know how to fix it, how to help him. Before, they had A-Jie, and she always had the right words, was always there to warm them with her soup and affection, but Jiang Cheng always has the wrong words.

All he can do is offer no words at all, letting the soup speak for him. 

Wei Wuxian’s eyes go glassy as he’s served the soup, but he turns to Jin Ling instead of breaking down. 

“Your niang used to make this soup for A-Cheng and me, growing up.”

He relates the time Jie went to find Wei Wuxian because Jiang Cheng had chased him away with threats of dogs, though he doesn’t mention that part, just tells him of their strong sister, carrying the both of them home and then making them the best soup he’d ever had. 

“She made it all the time, just her way of showing she loved us.”

Jin Ling is rapt, a hungry look in his eyes to hear a story of his mother, and Jiang Cheng is so glad Wei Wuxian is back and can tell him these stories—he always was the better storyteller, with a knack for putting events in a sensible order. Jiang Cheng has tried, but he’s only one person who knew Jie, and Wei Wuxian makes two. 

“We should talk to Mianmian, see if she’ll tell you stories about your father,” Wei Wuxian comments. “We ran into her just before the second siege, so we know where to find her.”

“Mianmian?” Jin Ling asks doubtfully. 

“Luo Qingyang,” Lan Wangji supplies, “was close to your father, a friend.”

“I bet she’d be happy to tell you about him,” Wei Wuxian adds.

Jin Ling looks almost hungry at the idea, but speechless, so Jiang Cheng speaks for him, even as he beats himself up for not thinking of that years ago: “Contact her and see if she’ll go to Jinlintai.”

Wei Wuxian does that thing where he smiles and his eyes become half-moons, a true grin, and Jiang Cheng lets out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. 

“I’m sure she will now,” Lan Wangji says.

The “now” is fraught with implications, but all of them are against the Jin, so it’s funny snark instead of the jabs he sometimes hits Jiang Cheng with. Suddenly he can see why Wei Wuxian insists he’s funny. 

Now that Jin Guangshan is dead, and Jin Guangyao as well, with A-Ling working to root out the old corruption so that the Jin could be one day known for illuminating the world instead of just their wealth, Luo Qingyang will have no reason to avoid Jinlintai. She may even be willing to help A-Ling with rooting out that corruption.

Eventually, though, it is inevitable; lunch ends and the time has come to pay respect in the family shrine, where he had placed a tablet for Jie—there was also one in Lanling, but Jin Ling preferred to honor her at Lotus Pier for her birthday. 

Jiang Cheng has honored her like this sixteen times since her death, and this will be a first anniversary for Wei Wuxian, for whom those years had blinked by in his death, he imagined. His once-brother’s grief had been too raw for it to be any other way. He sees his first year in Wei Wuxian’s grieving. 

The piers twist around the various pavilions as Jiang Cheng leads the way to the shrine, letting him see how Wei Wuxian seems to shrink as they near; for all he’d been there before Guanyin Temple, this is different. 

He can only hope this visit will give Wei Wuxian some peace. 

They wind up not even seated near each other, with Wei Wuxian seated between Hanguang-Jun and his son, something that leaves him feeling blocked away. He doesn’t acknowledge the distance, though, knowing the Lans mean to offer him support through this, support Jiang Cheng should be responsible for, not that he’s shown himself trustworthy of that. 

While he could wallow in self-pity and make this visit all about himself, Jiang Cheng chooses instead to take a deep breath and push away the negative intrusive thoughts—this visit is about Jiejie, and about Wei Wuxian. 

Even Jin Ling is looking at Wei Wuxian with worry by now, and Jiang Cheng can feel him elbow Lan Sizhui, seated on the other side of Jin Ling, looking for an explanation that isn’t forthcoming. 

Seconds of a terrible pregnant silence pass, and Jiang Cheng can’t stand it, can understand how Wei Wuxian might need to fill it with chatter all the time. 

“A-Jie, we’ve come to visit you. A-Xian came home.”

The words spill from his lips before he can think, the affectionate version of Wei Wuxian’s name that Jiang Yanli had preferred feeling natural in his mouth. 

It would be perfect, except that Wei Wuxian starts crying, a sort of convulsive sob that sounds like a dam breaking lose. 

Lan Wangji immediately starts fussing, as does Lan Sizhui, while Jin Ling just freezes, looking like he’d rather run away than deal with a crying Wei Wuxian. 

Jiang Cheng knows exactly how he feels. 

“Don’t be a mess in front of A-Jie,” he hisses. “You’re a grown man.”

“Xianxian is three,” Wei Wuxian practically wails. 

The routine is comforting but A-Jie isn’t here to baby him like she used to, and Jiang  Cheng doesn't have that kind of patience.  

“Grow up, Wei Wuxian! If you’re only three, how are you supposed to have your wedding at Lotus Pier so A-Jie can be there?”

Okay, so Jiang Cheng absolutely doesn’t expect Wei Wuxian to cry harder, and if he doesn’t stop, he doesn’t trust himself not to fucking bawl; he can feel it itching in his chest.

“I swear, if you don’t stop ugly crying, I will—”

He suddenly becomes uncomfortably aware that Lan Wangji’s attention has alit on him—he isn’t afraid of the man! He just has a well-developed sense of self-preservation, one that makes his go-to threats unwise.

“—I will toss you right into the lake and hope you bothered to teach that body to swim!”

Dammit… now his brother is ugly laughing, too. 

When Wei Wuxian eventually stops laugh-crying, he turns to Jiang Cheng with a vulnerable expression that makes him shift uncomfortably. 

“You want me to get married at Lotus Pier?” he asks softly. “Even though we already eloped?”

Jiang Cheng huffed. Of course they eloped, probably the last time they were at Lotus Pier. At least they’re actually married. 

“Do you think one bow is enough for A-Jie? She deserves to see you in wedding red.”

Wei Wuxian’s face does something complicated. 

“Jiang Cheng… we didn’t elope here. We weren’t together then.”

He almost protests that of course they were together, but he stops short, glancing at Lan Wangji, who nods to confirm. So he misunderstood—they’d only been venerating his sister and parents, not taking their bows. Well, that’s one thing to not be upset about anymore. 

Lan Sizhui is watching them with a soft smile. Jin Ling nods, to urge him on. 

“Then, a real wedding. Here at Lotus Pier. What kind of brother would I be if I let you elope like it’s some disgrace?”

A wide smile spreads across his brother’s face, one that used to be frequent, one Jiang Cheng rarely sees anymore, and he decides right then to make Wei Wuxian smile like that more often, if he can. 

“I’d like that,” Wei Wuxian says softly. 

Lan Wangji looks almost approving, which wasn’t one of Jiang Cheng’s goals, but he’ll take it. 

“Good. We’ll get you measured for robes while you’re here. And start planning. I remember A-Jie’s ideas for your wedding.”

With a misty smile, Wei Wuxian turns toward Jiang Yanli’s tablet. 

“Shijie, did you hear? Xianxian is getting married!”

“And he’s going to visit more often,” Jiang Cheng adds firmly, catching Lan Sizhui’s eye to let him know he’s included. 

“Definitely,” Jin Ling adds, grinning, so excited he’s tugging on Lan Sizhui’s sleeve. “Dajiu.”

The laugh from Wei Wuxian, happy and not unlike the chiming of bells, tells him he said the right thing and reminds him to prepare clarity bells for the lot of them. 

He’ll claim them all for Lotus Pier, even the former Wen, and hopefully it will be enough to make up for everything, his abandonment when it mattered, in this incredible second chance. 

————-

So a two-shot here. I already have a wedding to write for “rain falls and soaks into the earth,” so unless this one insists on being written, I won’t write it. I’m sensing there’s some Lan Xichen POV to be written, though, so this series isn’t finished yet. 

Got into a clinical study for long Covid. We’ll see how it goes. 

a-jie / jie = elder sister

dajiu = eldest uncle, specifically younger brother of mother

die = dad

jiujiu = mother’s younger brother 

li = half a kilometer 

niang = mom

shijie = martial older sister

shushu = uncle

zongzhu = sect leader

[fictionfixations]

masquerade malleus vignette

(spoilers for glorious masquerade)

aww

i refuse to believe lilia is oblivious enough not to notice that they dont like his cooking

..although solomon (from obey me) doesnt notice either iirc, but i mean..

..sebek. in a vignette, you literally got his help in cleaning a stain from malleus' labcoat???

...i never thought id hear azul say those words.... what?????

i dont know how it didnt hit me until now but the only reason rollo's plan in glorious masquerade failed was because he was so insistent on having malleus there and taking away all his power and shit?? like. cause. none of us had enough magic to actually overpower the fire lotuses(? i cant remember what they were called), although yuu would be able to make it through with no magic how could we even fight rollo at the end??

and at the point it reaches malleus and he could do something about it, it'd be too late?? because i REALLY doubt he has enough to reach all of those flowers and with enough to completely fry them out. and i doubt the bell would reach it by then.

silver...

is azul even human?? im like pretty sure-ish he's not human. not even half human. just entirely sea creature with a human-like body to probably be treated more normally and not hunted for sport/food through evolution shit idfk (like. idk im pretty sure its a thing where pets look so much cuter to cause us to take them in and shit.)

anyway im just imagining sebek talking azul's ear off about how great malleus is because he finally has a buddy who understands and therefore would be willing to listen to him talk for hours straight about malleus's greatness. AND APPRECIATE IT. HAUIHDSUIhd and azuls just like ………………….. floyd and jade laughing at him from a distance azul sets sebek on them like 'i think those two should come to learn about malleus's brilliance, don't you think? after all, as my colleagues, it is such a shame that they don't share my admiration for malleus, and i am unsure how to put it into words, as malleus himself is so magnificent that even words fail to describe him properly. so sebek, my fellow appreciator, would you lend me your aid in helping them grow to appreciate his brilliance?' okay i ran out of words and started repeating them because ic ant be bothered to look up for synonyms, im not THAT into it okay

ahhh so it is a fleur city song i wasnt sure. ive read in fics that it was, but it was also those fics where songs either have power, or yuu knows a bunch of disney songs that are considered 'forbidden/forgotten songs' or something like that and i cant remember which it was

actually if they put in all that work beforehand i think i get why they were so insistent on waiting for rollo to either confess or not AFTER the social ball and after they left and everything LMFAO

they suddenly changed into their school uniforms (still in diasomnia)

i honestly wouldnt know if id trust lilia that much but sure (i hope it doesnt turn to perfectionism levels tho)

first time we encounter italicized text i think. huh.

lmfao

oh my god (no but why choose idia at that point?? is it cuz his voice meshes well with them??)

ayoo its playing the make a wish (i think thats what the song is called) instrumental in the bg ive heard it way too many times not to recognize it (and sung along. its so fucking cool)

damn

my hands are actually protesting now ah geez (i took a break)

I GOT SO DISTRACTED BY DEUCE (i was re-experiencing enjoying looking at everyones costumes again) I AM AN IDIOT (its lower in opacity to show you that you're on it in the editor)

ooh

i didnt notice the insert paragraph im sorry lMFAO but id forget if i didnt SS it then

ooh some malleus riddle bonding

AH ITS A YUU JUMPSCARE

that seriously startled me like suddenly i just hear footsteps and then BOOM OPTIONS

ayooo malleus and yuu dancing

(alsoo yuu and deuce dancing :D)

WOOO

okay. now.

i feel like. im doing really good progress tackling all the vignettes (currently in EN. after that's GloMas, & Book 6 and 7. ive been avoiding it because not all of the Backgrounds exist, and GloMas has options with completely different dialogue which I can't see them all. i have three different videos of GloMas gameplay but they dont show all options...). all thats remaining is azul's tsumsitter (i have a vid of his vignette. ..i just dont like doing the tsum ones because i never know how to describe the tsum moving) vil birthday bloom (i FOUND A VIDEO finally oh my god. i love doing birthday vignettes) malleus dorm uniform (I have a vid) sebek new year (i have a vid) grim labcoat (i have a vid)

and then the rabbit costume ones which all of them have vignettes iirc and i have videos for all of them (i actually just found them as i was writing this. thank you god. they have no views tho geez. wonder if that means vil birthday bloom exists in a video but just wont appear. this is future me. ...i have been blessed with vil birthday bloom.)

[mxliv-oftheendless]

No Peace for Us, Only Misery: Chapter 1 (Chirisu)

CW: vomiting, blood, Hanahaki disease

So since Ao3 is down for the foreseeable future, I’m gonna start posting my Alice in Borderland fics on here! This is a Chirisu Hanahaki fic that I posted on Ao3 in May, and I will begin to post the current fic I’m working on when I get home from work. But for now, enjoy chapter one!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Come ooon, spill! Everyone has to say their favorite flower!”

Usagi laughed at Kuina. “Why? Is it that important to know?”

Arisu leaned over to her and whispered loudly, “It’s so she can send us bouquets of our favorite flowers.”

“Ah!” Kuina lunged forward to swipe at his head, but Arisu just dodged it with a laugh. “Shut up! I just wanna know!” She huffed and took a gulp of her drink. “I can go first if you like, cowards. I like gladiolus flowers.”

“What do those look like?” Arisu asked interestedly. Kuina pulled out her phone and pulled up an image of them to show him. “Wow, they’re pretty.”

“I know, right?”

Usagi leaned in and read the text below the image of the flowers. “Says here they symbolize integrity and strength.” She grinned at Kuina. “Like you!”

Kuina smirked smugly. “Damn straight. Alright, I went. One of you has to go now.”

“I’ll go,” Usagi said with a shrug. “I guess I’ve always liked lotuses. I think it’s interesting how they can bloom in dirty water where other flowers can’t. It’s kind of beautiful, really.”

Kuina nodded. “That’s a good one.” 

She turned to give Arisu a fierce look, making him laugh and hold up his hands in surrender. “I’ll say it, I’ll say it, just don’t hurt me!”

“I won’t if you tell me,” Kuina said with a wide grin. 

“Okay, okay. I always thought…” Arisu flushed and scratched the back of his neck. “Um…”

“Tell us or I’ll whoop your ass,” Kuina demanded. 

“Okay!” Arisu laughed, keeping his hands raised. “Jeez. I always liked daffodils, I guess.”

“Any reason why?”

“Not really. I just always thought they looked nice.” Arisu grinned at her. “Can I put my hands down now?”

Kuina laughed and lightly hit his shoulder. “You can put them down, you dork.” Then she turned to Chishiya, who had up to now been sitting and watching quietly. “Alright, Chishiya, you’re next. Tell us your favorite flower.”

Chishiya gave her a bemused look. “You’re very obsessed with flowers today, aren’t you?” He looked at Arisu and Usagi. “I bet this is just a roundabout way to get inspiration for flowers to give to Ann.”

“Awww!” Usagi cooed, while Arisu slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter. “That’s adorable!”

“I—shut the fuck up, it is not!” Kuina pointed at Chishiya with her beer can. “Answer the damn question, coward!”

“Fine. I don’t have a favorite flower. I don’t like flowers.”

“Buuuuuullshit. Everyone likes flowers.”

“Not me.” Seeing the pictures in his medical textbooks of what Hanahaki disease did to the internal organs tended to turn one off of flowers. 

“You’re not getting out of this, man.” Kuina shook her beer can at him with emphasis. “Gun to your head, name your favorite flower or you die. What do you say?”

Chishiya smirked bemusedly. “In what scenario would it be so vital for my would-be killer to know my favorite flower?”

“ANSWER THE QUESTION, SHUNTARO!”

“Kuina,” Arisu said through his laughter as he reached out to grab her arm. “He’s just messing around. Don’t hit him.”

Kuina scoffed. “I’m not gonna, you sweet angel. I’m too drunk for that.”

Arisu laughed and shook his head, then turned to Chishiya. “What is your favorite flower, Chishiya? I’m curious now.”

“Me too!” Usagi agreed. 

Chishiya sighed. “I don’t know… I suppose if I absolutely had to name one, I would say roses.”

“Roses?” Kuina scoffed from where she was now slumped against Arisu’s shoulder. “That’s such a basic fucking bitch answer.”

Chishiya squinted at her. “There is a certain gesture I’d like to give you, but I won’t lower myself to that level.”

“Any type of roses in particular?” Usagi asked. “Like yellow, or pink, or…?”

“I guess white roses. I like the color white, after all.” He gave Kuina a snarky look. “Is that still a, quote, ‘basic fucking bitch answer’?”

“Nah,” Kuina said as she pushed herself up off Arisu’s shoulder. “At least you didn’t say red roses. That would’ve really pissed me off.”

“Ah. I’d like to change my answer then—”

“You better fucking not, you frosty son of a bitch!”

Chishiya dodged her arm as it swung out to hit him. In the process, the force behind the dodge sent him slipping off the couch to the floor. Arisu and Usagi just laughed loudly at him, making him raise his head to give them a stink eye. “You’re laughing. I have been embarrassed by gravity and you’re laughing.”

“Cheers to gravity!” Kuina raised her beer can. “You always know how to humble people when they need it!”

Chishiya turned his stink eye to her. “You live for my humiliation.”

Kuina just grinned at him around her beer can. “You love me.”

“Doubtful.”

“He says unconvincingly.”

“Awww, you love us, Chishiya!” Arisu teased. “Don’t deny it!”

Chishiya looked over at him, and he couldn’t for the life of him help the way he softened at the grin on the other boy’s face. “I will neither confirm nor deny.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was getting worse. 

Chishiya stared, almost dazedly, down at what he’d just heaved into the sink. Blood smeared the white porcelain around the clumps of flower petals. He’d coughed up more blood this time, the coldly medical part of him noted. He’d be vomiting soon. 

He’d read his medical textbooks, and seen glimpses of patients in the hospital; he knew the symptoms of Hanahaki disease. It began with a simple itching in the throat, as the flowers began to grow in the lungs. Then just dry coughs, as the lungs began to try rejecting what shouldn’t be growing there. Then coughing up a petal or two, then more. Then eventually, the petals began to be stained with blood. Then the victim began vomiting up blood and flower petals, their body growing weaker against the invasive plants overtaking the lungs and heart. And it would get worse and worse, until finally… 

Chishiya’s stomach rolled and he felt like vomiting, though thankfully it was just normal, everyday vomit. But the Hanahaki-related vomiting would start soon, he knew that. 

He didn’t mean for this to happen. Of all the people to get Hanahaki disease, he never thought he’d ever be one of them. He didn't mean to. He didn’t mean to fall in love with—

A knock at the bathroom door. “Chishiya? Are you okay in there?”

Chishiya hurriedly turned on the faucet and drank some of the water to clear his throat. “Y-Yes,” he called, hoping his voice didn’t sound rough from all the coughing. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You’ve been in there for a long time.”

Chishiya had to close his eyes tight when the sweetly concerned voice made him feel like coughing again. “I’m fine, Arisu. Just give me a minute.”

There was a pause, then Arisu said, “Okay. We paused the movie so you won’t miss anything.”

He waited for the footsteps to fade away, then ran to grab a fistful of toilet paper and pressed it to his mouth. Thankfully, this round of coughing wasn’t as bad as the first, probably because he’d coughed up all the petals for now. But the feeling like his chest was being internally torn to shreds still remained. 

He eyed the inside of the sink, watching as the cheerful yellow daffodil petals disappeared down the drain. He never meant for this to happen—really, he didn’t. He usually had more self-control than this. 

But he just couldn’t help it. How could he not have fallen for Arisu? How could he look at Arisu, endearingly awkward, with his mop of hair that fell over his big expressive eyes, his bright smile, and his heart that cared so much—how could he be around all of that and not fall in love? 

When Chishiya was sure the coughing had stopped, he threw the bloodied toilet paper in the trash and grabbed a few tissues to wipe his mouth. With any luck, people (Arisu, in particular) would just think he had a bad nosebleed. He tried not to look at the daffodil petals as he forced them to slide down the drain out of sight. 

There had been the briefest moment just now, where he considered telling him. He always considered it, just momentarily, whenever he was coughing up the blood and flower petals. It was considered, for just a moment, to ask Arisu to come into the bathroom or text him or call him and tell him he was in love. Then maybe he’d be cured, and never cough up another daffodil petal again. 

But no, he knew he wouldn’t be cured—because of course, these things were rarely so simple. The disease was cured by the confession only if the object of the victim’s unrequited love returned their feelings. And he knew that wouldn’t happen. This wasn’t some fantastic romance like the stories Kuina loved so much—this was real life. There was no mutual pining, no mutual unrequited feelings. Arisu wouldn’t return his feelings; Chishiya knew he wouldn’t. He already didn’t understand how Arisu could consider him a friend, when Chishiya was so coldly logical and apathetic and heartless, the very opposite of his kind soul. 

Chishiya took another drink of the water, swishing it around in his mouth and spitting it out to get rid of the taste of blood still there. Then he placed his hands on the sink and gripped it tightly, closing his eyes to try and fight back the emotion coursing through him. He sucked in a deep breath, blew it out, then repeated, until everything inside him finally settled down. He opened his eyes and looked at himself in the mirror. He wouldn’t say a word. 

When Chishiya rejoined the others in the living room, he immediately went to sit down on the couch next to Usagi. Arisu and Kuina were lying on the floor, chattering about some anime he didn’t catch the name of. “There you are!” Usagi said with a smile. “We were wondering about you. You didn’t fall in, did you?”

Chishiya cracked a tiny smile at her teasing voice, trying to ignore how Arisu laughed at her question. “I did, actually,” he said sarcastically, trying to sound like he hadn’t just coughed up daffodil petals into the sink. “It led to a strange, Wonderland sort of world.” 

Kuina scoffed and kicked him with her foot. “Don’t be snarky, ‘Shiya. Can we restart the movie now?”

“If you like. I don’t see why you paused it in the first place.”

“Thank Arisu. He insisted.”

Fuck. Of course he did. 

“I didn’t want him to miss anything!” Arisu defended himself. “It’s a good movie!”

Kuina scoffed again, this time with a smile, and ruffled his hair despite the boy’s protests. “You and your sweet heart. Now unpause it already.”

As Arisu did as asked and the movie resumed, Chishiya realized his throat still hurt from all the coughing. He nudged Usagi. “You brought water, right?” he asked quietly. He vaguely remembered Usagi entering Kuina’s apartment with a bag full of what she said were water bottles, ever prepared. 

“Hm? Yeah, I did. Do you want one?”

“If you don’t mind,”

“Of course not. I brought them for all of us.” She leaned down and fished one out of the bag to hand it to him. “Here.”

Chishiya muttered a thanks before uncapping the bottle and downing half of it. Usagi watched him with mild curiosity. “You were in there for a while,” she said quietly, so she didn’t talk over the movie. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

For a moment, Chishiya wanted to say no, no he was not okay—he was vomiting up daffodil petals, yes, the flower Arisu said was his favorite, because he’d fallen for Arisu and having to bear it all and pretend it wasn’t happening was probably the worst torture he’d ever experienced, despite his honed skill at pretending he didn’t care about anything. Usagi would listen, he knew; Usagi wouldn’t interrupt, wouldn’t judge, would probably even offer advice. 

“Yes, I’m sure. Really.”

[funnel-webbed-au]

Scorched Petals

Tag List: @skellebonez

Riley's Notes: HI HI I'M ALIVE AND BACK FROM HIATUS also my brainrot isn't being useful right now posting will be weird

Nezha dragged himself through the doorway, the flames still licking at his body even though they weren't there anymore. The pain, the heat, the overwhelming sense of isolation and abandonment, it had been a very long time since he'd been punished so severely. He knew damn well it had been a bad idea to award the last Demons of Camel Ridge a begrudging salvation, and now that Li Jing had heard of his actions, he knew that his punishments would be far more cruel should he slip up on anything he was told to do. Disobedience, after all, was never tolerated well in a place like this.

The ancient Deity brushed past his beloved superior, the only man he would ever refer to as his father, and tripped over himself when the pain from the rings on his ankles overwhelmed his senses. As Erlang Shen reached down to help his student to his feet, the younger Deity smacked his hand away, hissing through his teeth in mind-melting discomfort.

"No. Don't... don't touch me. I'm still too warm." Nezha's words gave away what had happened scarcely an hour prior. The architectural Deity who had offered his hand pulled away, but did not leave his student's side. He had to be here to support him through such trying times, especially while Kui Mulang was busy drinking his cares away. Someone had to set a good standard.

It tore the old dog apart to see his son, his child, in such a state. How could anyone do this to their own blood? It completely escaped the ancient Deity how anyone would find such treatment permissible. Alas, there was little he could do in the state they were both in. Nezha desperately wanted to avoid being touched until the heat wore off, for fear of hurting someone with the way his powers were fluctuating.

"Just... give me something to do. Order me around if you want to, I just want to get these images out of my head." Nezha opened his eyes as he spoke, the vivid indigo now replaced with a vibrant, scorching shade of hot pink. It reminded Erlang Shen of the lotuses the Deity loved so dearly... but also of the fires that he harnessed and was burned by in equal measure.

"Nezha, my boy, would you do us all a favor? I'm certain I am not the only one who would appreciate a hot cup of tea right now." Those words seemed to relieve the tension from Nezha's body. Erlang Shen breathed a sigh as he relaxed, thankful that even such a small task could bring his son reprieve from the stress. It was a welcome distraction, a welcome return to the idea of 'normal' that he was so used to.

An idea that had been (literally) beaten into him.

Nezha filled the kettle, then turned the stove on and set it on the burner, waiting impatiently for the water to boil. As he scrolled through his phone, it dinged from a text message from one of his siblings. For whatever reason, Red Son wanted him in his lab. Nezha sighed. He figured the fire Demon wanted more samples of his ichor for experimentation. He couldn't blame him; the intense magics in it made it a fascinating lab reagent with a variety of applications before and after processing.

But that could come later. Now? It was time for him to rest and breathe off that memory.

That damned pagoda... and those heartless men... one day, he vowed, he'd make a statement so harsh, that Heaven would cast them out.

One day.

[the-firebird69]

He said we can start with cars but we have to make it fairly simple if you look at a Volkswagen the way that those panels are attached it's really a pain in the ass unfortunately you can't go those damn things off of someone paid you they end up ripping them off and ruining the stuff underneath so when they do a Volkswagen they have you pull the whole thing off and that's a pain in the ass there's only a few cars that are easy and people are not using them. There's a Chevy Malibu and people might not use it because it's American not really true and there's like a Nissan Sentra and they're like really easy you pull the panels off and you got it the Malibu stopped production in 2017 that's a full size sedan that car would be good for the saline and he says it should probably go ahead that way and the other car is good for like a lotus one of the older lotuses that we could bring back and modernize and people have done it but the Malibu made tons and tons of them and our son loves the Saline

Thor Freya

Zues Hera

Olympus

[undermine-the-instinct]

Okay okay, I really like the vibe mc gives off. She gives 'I've been extremely neglected and self sufficient growing up, so instead of being loved the most I settled for was not being a bother/being extremely easy to please'.

You can see it here: "Who are you to come in the way of Suguru's apparent desire to get married?"

As well as, "You've never had the luxury of dwelling too long of what a hypothetical wedding would entail. You had no use for it, really."

__________

"What did the two of you talk about?" You ask eagerly.

An amused glint flickers in his dark gaze. Almost teasingly. "Flowers."

"Flowers?"

"Flowers."

If Suguru was talking flowers with this poor girl he was probably going in with the flower language. She probably planted Lotuses because of Gojo and his connection to Buddhism, a high class family sort of thing, trying to flatter Gojo, and Geto probably told her to plant platycodons instead 😭😭. (I.e the platycodon, or chinese bellflower, is the flower that was put in abe-no-seimei's. Gojo's ancester, shrine and is heavily associated with him.) Or that her garden would look better with Acacia's, or yellow roses and maybe then Gojo would visit. 😭😭😭.

__________

"There is something fundamentally wrong with you. You would rather the vulnerable truth of it all not be laid bare and dissected by a scorned lover you disappointed in some way, because you had not been able to live up to the expected standards of romantic love."

BABY NOOOO. YOU DESERVE LOVE. THERE IS NOTHIBG WRING WITH YOU. Oh God that reminds me of this Mitski quote...

Yeah....

__________

"Suguru greets them with a smile, untying his apron and pulling her up into his arms--" I swear to God I need to wife Geto up. What I wouldnt give to come home to this man. God damn it.

AND GOD DAMN IT it really hurts my heart seeing how much mc wants to be a part of there lives but is content (or telling themselves to be) with what they have. Telling themselves to get used to the loneliness and not overstepping because eventually there will be someone else and they'll be gone from her life 😭😭😭. But at least the kids still need her!!! Till they don't anymore... And then what?

The fact that she chose the apartment because of the signs of the people who use to be there... "You thought that there must have been love in your apartment once. So much love that a child could grow up happily scribbling away on the same walls you woke up to every day. Maybe, somehow, this love would make you feel less lonely. Your apartment was home."

Its like she's trying to glean whatever leftover love there is left for herself. But is it home because of that or is she telling herself that to appease herself??? I'm sure she likes the apartment for aforementioned reasons but is it really home?? No.

The fact that she only had a rotting carrot and some old tea....💀💀💀. Girl, your friend is a doctor and you have this kind of diet? But she has an identical sugar jar for Gojo back at her place 🥺🥺🥺!!! ddao mc really makes me wanna sit her down in a blanket for and cuddle, she deserves it 🥺.

Also, lol the fact that she spends a good chunk of the story admiring women and shoko....

"The thought of Shoko getting married disturbs you. You think of seeing here even less than you usually do and frown."

"You think these girls deserve far more respect for being able to flawlessly navigate jujutsu society than you do, as a working jujutsu socerer."

"You always found it difficult to talk to pretty women. Your mouth never quite worked right. They always smelled nice too..."

"Maybe you could keep Shoko to yourself for a little bit longer." Okay, I peep game ��👀.

All in all, mc needs someone Shoko to come and wife her up right now 😤. Get those sad little thoughts outta her head right now 😤😤.

dog days are over | chapter one

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader x geto suguru warnings/tags (for this chapter): none, but please heed overall fic warnings word count: ~3.2k

fic masterlist read on ao3

“Suguru…you’re getting married?”

Your eyes are wide as you examine Suguru in a new light.

Marriage…that’s…that’s a big step isn’t it? Already? Do people get married at twenty-two nowadays? You aren’t sure. In fact, you don’t really know what people your age do. But you’re sure that whatever Suguru decides, you will support him fully. Even if he desires to get married at the early age of twenty-two. Who are you to come in the way of Suguru's apparent desire to get married?

Suguru doesn’t even blink at your words. “Of course not,” he replies smoothly, expertly dicing carrots into small cubes on the cutting board. He finishes, puts the knife down, and looks at you reassuringly. “It was just a matter of propriety. I couldn’t just leave that girl waiting for hours on end for Satoru, now could I?”

You shake your head, smiling back. Of course he would. Because Suguru is a good person who would keep a girl company at a matchmaking ceremony that Satoru either refused to show up to or forgot. You aren’t surprised to hear it. Both the fact that Suguru spent his afternoon entertaining her, and that Satoru had neglected to go to it in the first place, or even mention it to you.

Marriage…

You think of white dresses, veils, shiromukus. Endless white fabrics. Black kimonos. Cups of Sake. You think of temples, the reception, the planning. All the different options for catering and flowers and wedding invitations. Your head spins. Weddings. Marriage. Abstract concepts to you. Foreign in their conventionality. You’ve never had the luxury of dwelling too long of what a hypothetical wedding would entail. You had no use for it, really. Though you did occasionally think about how Shoko would look on her wedding day. 

Suguru is calling your name.

You blink, regaining the smile on your lips, hoping he didn’t ask you a question you had not heard. “Y-yes?”

“Just keeping you with me,” he hums, getting started on the mushrooms and potatoes. “What were you thinking about?”

“Weddings are complicated,” you say seriously. But then you think of Shoko in a wedding dress, Suguru and Satoru in black kimonos, and decide that Shoko would make a lovely bride just as Satoru and Suguru would make lovely grooms. “I hope I get to see all of you married one day.”

Though the thought of Shoko getting married disturbs you. You think of seeing her even less than you usually do and frown. Twenty-two really is a bit too young, isn’t it? She hasn’t even finished medical school yet! You force yourself away from your thoughts, regarding Suguru brightly.

“What did the two of you talk about?” You ask eagerly. 

An amused glint flickers in his dark gaze. Almost teasingly. “Flowers.”

“Flowers?”

“Flowers.”

The girl had invited Suguru to see the sprawling garden at her estate and the special lotuses she tended to daily. He politely declined. You are slightly disappointed at this. You think of Satoru and Suguru’s wedding. You think of a faceless third, a potential bride that could handle Satoru and Suguru’s tempestuous natures. A calming, dignified force. You think she’ll be beautiful, befitting the two of them. 

“Was she pretty?”

Suguru stops, knife pressed to the cutting board, mushroom split in two. He lifts his gaze, returning to your expectant gaze with an unreadable one before his expression softens. “I suppose.”

You stare at him. He…supposes? Just what is that supposed to mean? Some new cryptic way of conveying his interest? Maybe he’s embarrassed. Maybe he doesn’t want to admit it.

The amused smile returns to his lips. “I was just a temporary fill in for Satoru, nothing more.”

He resumes cutting. Finishes. Heats up oil in a large pot and pushes the vegetables into it with a knife.

He’s too modest. You’re sure he’s downplaying himself. She had invited him to her estate for a second meet, hadn’t she? You guess Satoru and Suguru and yes, even Shoko are at an age most would consider eligible for marriage. They’ll get married soon, embark on the next adventure of their lives and you’ll…

You’ll be content.

“Have you thought about it?” He asks nonchalantly. “Marriage?”

You falter, a lapse in your thoughts at Suguru’s inquiring gaze. “Not at all,” you say truthfully. “I can’t even imagine it.” Someone loving you? The thought of someone finding something worthwhile in you makes you feel greatly disturbed when you decided long ago that romantic endeavors were useless in your case. But even that line of thinking is arrogant of you. Nobody has ever shown interest in you in the twenty-one years you’ve been alive, and you are sure that even the slightest interest in you would only end with disappointment.

There is something fundamentally wrong with you. You would rather the vulnerable truth of it all not be laid bare and dissected by a scorned lover you disappointed in some way, because you had not been able to live up to the expected standards of romantic love. You would say something wrong, do something wrong. You wouldn’t understand. You don't think you'd be recover, and even the thought of it makes you feel vaguely ill.

You’re not naive. You know that love doesn’t have to be a factor in marriage, but if marriage was a necessity, then what was wrong with hoping for love, romance, passion? You’ve seen the well bred women of jujutsu society, the ones whose last names hold importance on some level, cultivated for the singular purpose of being a wife, a mother, sheltered away in their estates awaiting the inevitable. You think these girls deserve far more respect for being able to flawlessly navigate jujutsu society than you do, as a working jujutsu sorcerer. 

You also think you want better for Satoru. You think he deserves love and everything else he’s found in Suguru. You’re happy for him. For Suguru. Because even someone like you knows how rare it is to find what the two of them have.

You exhale. “But nothing’s expected of me anyway." You've never even been kissed. "I don’t have a lover, or even parents. I’m nobody important. But you, Satoru, and Shoko…" A self deprecating smile. "It seems that I’ll have to learn to live without you guys soon.” You’d be lonely. But you at least had Megumi and Tsumiki, and even Mimiko and Nanako. You were sure they’d still need you for a few more years. And then…

You’ve never thought about the future. Not to this extent. You’re unsure of what your life would be without Suguru, Satoru, and Shoko. You’re unsure if you’d even exist. 

As long as you’re alive, you’d persist. Somehow. And if you died along the way, well. You suppose you wouldn’t have to put too much thought into the future then, would you?

You must look troubled. Suguru clears his throat. You look up, just as the smell of curry fills your nose. 

He lifts up an inviting spoonful of curry. “For you.”

It takes you a few seconds to completely pull out of your thoughts, and to register the spoon in his grip. You learn forward automatically, mumble ‘thank you for the food,’ and eat his offering. The curry is delicious, savory with a sweet note that can’t just be attributed to the apples you had seen him blending before to mix into the sauce. Your gaze drops to an opened packet on the counter.

“Dark chocolate?”

“A tip I got from some of the housewives in the complex,” Suguru replies, satisfied with your response. “They said that it’d add an additional note of flavor. I’m guessing it worked…?”

You nod vigorously. “It’s delicious!”

Of course Suguru’s made good with the housewives in the fancy apartment complex the two of them live in with the kids. Suguru wanted a big kitchen. Satoru wanted a view. The penthouse seemed to both their tastes.

It’s a lovely apartment, with a large sprawling living room that includes ceiling high bookshelves, an open kitchen with a long island, and stairs that spiral to a second floor. Accommodating two adults, four kids and more, easily. It brings a smile to your face to see traces of Satoru and Suguru, and all the kids all over the apartment. You’re sure the confetti and colored paper scraps on top of the kotatsu are from Mimiko and Nanako and Tsumiki. Some school project that involved copious amounts of glue and glitter. There’s a book you bought for Megumi on the couch. Just as the bookshelves are full of Suguru’s own books. The big jar of sugar in one of the upper cabinets of the kitchen (far away from the kids’ reach) is Satoru’s. To add into his cereal, tea and anything else accommodating his usual sugary diet. There’s an identical jar back at your apartment. Satoru’s sugar jar.

To Satoru and Suguru and the girls, Megumi, and Tsumiki, it’s home.

Suguru’s eyes crease with the curve of his lips, pleased. “I’m glad you like it.” 

“Everyone’s going to love it.” Especially the twins, you think. Chocolate in their curry seemed to be exactly the kind of thing they’d delight at, in the small bursts of childlike wonder they rediscovered after Suguru rescued them. They followed after Satoru with their sweet tooths. However, after Nanako had been found with a cavity, Suguru had been forced to put a hard limit on their sugar intake, much to their disappointment.

Suguru gives the curry a stir, almost absentmindedly, as if he’s pondering something.

“I think about it,” he says, after a small silence. “Getting married.”

Oh.

Of course Suguru has thought about marriage. What, with all the marriage talks and matchmaking ceremonies and lovely elegant women in their pretty kimonos, who probably knew all the perfect ways to serve tea and facilitate conversation in all matters of talk. Suguru would make a perfect husband. Anybody would be lucky to marry Suguru. Charming and kind and handsome. 

You’ve begun to formulate a question about whether or not anyone’s caught his or Satoru’s eye, when you hear a thundering of footsteps. 

“We’re backkkkkkk!” Nanako hollers, rushing into the open living space, pulling Mimiko along with her. “Papa, are you making curry? It smells good!”

Mimiko nods her agreement, tugging on Suguru’s apron. Suguru greets them with a smile, untying his apron and pulling her up into his arms, just Satoru strolls into the room, Tsumiki at his side, Megumi trailing a few steps behind them.

“I’m starved!” Satoru announces, peering over the stovetop at the boiling curry. When a hand sneaks for a piece of chocolate, Suguru slaps his hand away. 

Suguru takes the chocolate away and puts it into a drawer as Satoru gawks. “It’s not the kind you’d like anyway.”

“Tsumiki, Megumi,” you start. “How’s school?”

You have regrettably not been able to visit as much as you wish you could. Your studies kept you busy. Your missions kept you out of Tokyo. You hope your absence isn’t missed too much. You read that children should grow up in stable environments. Your schedule was the last thing from stable.

Tsumiki beams. “I’ve got a part in the school play. We’re putting on Hachikazuki-hime!”

You make a mental note to grab the date from Satoru so you can clear your schedule. Tsumiki would be graduating elementary school soon. Already onto middle school. Children grow up so quickly. You’d have to take as many pictures as you could to compile an elementary school picture book for all the kids.

“Is that why you guys were all at the school so late?”

She nods. “Ah, and Megumi hasn’t gotten into a fight in a month,” she says excitedly. “It’s a record!”

The aforementioned boy makes a face. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

You grin, ruffling the boy’s hair. “That is a record!” Satoru had taken care of an incident a month ago in which you had been called to the school over an altercation between Megumi and another male student. You hadn’t been able to make it. You didn’t ask what Satoru had done, but you have a suspicious inkling that it had been waved away with a twirl of Satoru’s trusty black card.

You catch a glimpse of the clock above the refrigerator and balk. You snatch up your bag from the floor and wrap Tsumiki and Megumi in your arms and squeeze.

“I have to go now! I’ll see you guys later.”

“You’re not staying for dinner?” Mimiko asks quietly, peering up at you through her black bangs.

A sheepish breath escapes you. “I have a lot of homework, unfortunately.” You’d get takeout from that new tempura restaurant that opened up a couple of blocks away from your apartment. Then it was back to the books for you.

Satoru frowns. “You can’t stay an hour?”

Nanako and Mimiko and even Tsumiki voice their agreement.

Even Suguru looks displeased. Though you suppose it’s your fault. It had been your intention to stay until…

Suguru wanted to get married. He was thinking of marriage. With Satoru, with some other faceless bride to be. All three of them. You had said it yourself, hadn’t you? You’d have to learn to live without them. 

All of this is just temporary. 

You turn to the kids. “Why don’t you guys wash up for dinner?”

One by one, they shuffle off to their rooms. Megumi gives you an inquiring stare, but you wave him off.

“I’ve got a lot more work than I thought…” you trail off underneath their twin scrutiny. “I think it’d be best for me to go home for today.”

“Home,” Satoru repeats. His lips twist, effectively staunching all the words that would undoubtedly tell you exactly what he thinks about your decaying one bedroom apartment that had become your home after you graduated. You were untethered after graduation. While it was an occasion, jujutsu tech had been your home for better or worse for four years. It was the first place you had truly thought of as a home. And to leave it…

Yaga had offered you your room on campus, if you wanted to stay. But it didn’t seem right. Not without Suguru, Satoru, and Shoko. You found your apartment off a flyer attached to a pinboard while at a public library. Shoko had visited the apartment with you, negotiated rent down with the landlord, and the lease had been signed with little fanfare. It was small enough that you wouldn’t feel too lonely. Big windows overlooking a courtyard in the back. She hadn’t been thrilled about it (Satoru and Suguru even less so), but it was clean with a well worn floor and chips in the wall adjacent to the kitchen from what you presumed was to measure a child’s height. It endeared you to the apartment immediately.

Your landlord had informed you that a single mother had lived in your apartment before vacating it. You thought that there must have been love in your apartment once. So much love that a child could grow up happily scribbling away on the same walls you woke up to everyday. Maybe, somehow, this love would make you feel less lonely.

Your apartment was home. 

“Then let me pack you—”

“It’s fine, it’s fine!” You say hurriedly, backing towards the foyer. “I’d hate to trouble you. I have food at home.”

“I’ll walk you.��� Satoru says, grabbing his jacket off the counter.

“I’ll take a taxi from the lobby.” You refuse. You can’t hide your smile, touched by their concern. “You should all eat. As a family.”

Suguru stares at you, the weight of his dark gaze making your skin prickle. It makes you feel as if you’ve said something wrong.

“At least make Ijichi drive you home,” Satoru says, exasperated, gesturing to the ceiling length windows that detail the darkness that has set over Tokyo. “It’s dark out.”

You blink in disbelief. “Satoru…” He cocks his head to the side. “Are you still using Ijichi as your personal chauffeur…?”

“...”

You turn to Suguru who seems to suddenly find the potted flowers resting by the window interesting.

Your mouth drops. “Not you too, Suguru! For the last time, you two can’t make Ijichi drop everything he’s doing to drive you through Tokyo!”

You sigh, shaking your head. These two. You feel sympathy towards Ijichi’s plight. Maybe that was why he had looked so withered the other day while you had visited Shoko in the morgue at Jujustu tech. Shoko had made a joke about watering him like you’d water a plant. You, however, could not find the humor in the situation when your kouhai had truly looked to be in need of water. And sleep. And food.

Maybe you could treat him for a meal one of these days…

“Does Ijichi like yakitori…?” You wonder out loud.

“I wouldn’t know.” Suguru says lightly, despite the peeved expression on his face. You can tell that Suguru, really, could not care less about Ijichi’s tastes.

“I don’t care about that man,” Satoru deadpans. “Why are you talking about Ijichi right now?”

You are unimpressed by their responses. “Anyway,” you sigh out. “I’ll be going now.”

“I’m coming—”

“No you aren’t,” you’re already halfway out the door. “Eat Suguru’s delicious curry,” you tell them both. “Tell the kids I love them. Goodnight.”

You don’t take a taxi. You walk fifty minutes to your apartment in the brisk winter in an effort to clear your mind. It doesn’t work. Suguru wants to get married. Satoru too, maybe, despite his efforts to avoid all the matchmaking ceremonies and invitations to go back to the Gojo estate for more lectures on the importance of continuing the Gojo line with an heir. In the end if Suguru wanted it, Satoru would end up wanting it too, as that was the nature of things. The two of them reconfiguring themselves around the other, always in tandem. A girl would catch Satoru’s eye, or Suguru’s, or maybe both of their attentions. And if she made them happy, you would be happy.

It wasn’t as if Suguru and Satoru didn’t have prospects. There was no shortage of girls who would gladly offer themselves. They didn’t need any help in that aspect. Besides, you are sure you’d be of absolutely no help in matchmaking. You always found it difficult to talk to pretty women. Your mouth never quite worked right. They always smelled nice too…

What you can do…

You can keep your distance. Slowly disengage yourself from the tangle of their lives. You’d be relegated to watching from the sidelines. You’d be content. Maybe you could keep Shoko to yourself for a little bit longer. To your knowledge, she had no intention of getting married. You hoped. Yet anyway. 

You jam your keys into the door of your apartment, slightly lifting the weight of the door up and jiggling the keys to the right. When you walk into your apartment, you set down your bag. You had forgotten about the takeout. There’s no food in your apartment except for a rotting carrot in the fridge that you throw out, and Satoru’s big jar of sugar on the island. 

Oh well, you didn’t have to eat. There's old tea in your cabinet. You ready the kettle. As you wait for the water to heat, you look out the window and think the apartment feels especially big tonight.

[brooklynislandgirl]

@kylo-wrecked   {{And angels weep}}

A single word ought not bite and make the wound bleed, but it does. She feels it slink its way into her at too-damn-late in the early morning, reeking of stale beer and blue jazz flavoured smoke. Helps itself to left over cold sobe noodles right out of the carton in the fridge. She doesn't remember giving it a key or extending him that kind of invitation but there they have it. She still manages to roll over ~all of her body turned toward him~ and let it stay. Regardless of his intentions perhaps she's fallen pray to the depth of potency that he holds, the faint strains of a sonata she cannot remember the name of, if he's an original composition created in the moment or something classic from a time long before they were even born. He slices through everything else with a clean edge. Scores her in a way she can't put a finger on. He leaves behind the kind of desecration with that duality of expression, which itself hinges the world on her own empathy. She cannot make herself look away.

At least not until the waitress edges her way into the middle of this stunted conversation, a wall built with speed as if by Hadrian. It's enough to shunt her nearly back into her liminal space. Not the first time she's been culled from a conversation, not the first time she's experienced the sudden and bitter realisation that she's competing outside of her weight class. As such the surprise when she notices him still casting his Stygian gaze her way is genuine and not one she can easily hide behind a mask of feigned apathy. He draws over himself, night over a starless sea. No. That isn't right, implies a seamless fluidity. Neither is it chorea or myoclonic muscle disorder. It's the spasm of a jellyfish on the body of a robust and beautiful orchid mantis. Does he eat lotuses? She's a hundred percent sure that if he did, they would melt on his tongue, just to be that much closer to him. But she isn't blind, she can see a glimpse of something darkly fragile beneath his gilded facade. She gets completely blind-sided. "How...." did you know what I was going to ask you? "How you know dat word?" It's a co-opted word from when missionaries came, the advanced scouts of what would become a occupying force, one that would illegally overthrow the monarchy and drag her kingdom into pampered slavery. A much larger scale than what was done to her very own mother. It can mean half, or it can mean part, and is used, sometimes welcome and sometimes scornfully for those with island blood. Later it was borrowed by others and Beth can't really blame them for stealing a stolen word.  For him to know it? A new flare of intrigue lights her gaze as she gazes more boldly. Just in time to see the mouthed words. What Beth lacks in aural capacity she more than makes up for with sight and smell and taste. Her tongue flirts with the edge of her lower lip and she swallows. She nods even as her face screams in red. They really are beautiful. He rises like a wave and the feel of his crashes over her. As her head tilts up to meet his face she finds her hand of its own accord reaching out. She'd intended to catch him by the wrist, halt his inevitable flight. Instead, she brushes his hip. She nods and in turn climbs off the couch. She’s all sand coloured skin and the skeleton of some kind of perfume that’s subtle but sweet. The whisper of a dress she wears hugs her in shadow as she asks "Go wheah? Some place mo' quiet?"

[rosethornewrites]

From the next chapter of “the gentle light that strays and vanishes and returns.”

————

He somehow survived dinner, at which Wei Wuxian was oddly quiet, dressed in robes he’d had put in his wardrobe so he knew damn well he’d found them, carrying both Chenqing and Suibian, and no he didn’t feel any particular way about either except… good. He should wear those clothes and carry his sword. But Jiang Cheng sure as hell wasn’t going to address either, not with Lan Wangji around.

He made sure to mention Jin Ling’s eminent arrival, probably the next day, and escaped as quickly as he could.

Not quickly enough to avoid Lan Sizhui, who shows up at his office all polite to ask questions about growing lotuses. Jiang Cheng doubts they’d survive on that damnable mountain, but he thought the same thing about the Burial Mounds and Wei Wuxian got them to grow anyway.

[lovedbydottore]

Our Oath Under The Stars - Zandik

tw/cw: almost none lmao ig it's just fluff, also this is like....akademiya dottore so he's still "Zandik" goofy voice man here or smth anyways have fun ig, gn!reader hairful reader 😱😱 /j, friends 2 lovers trope my love ❤️ been obsessed with stars lately so I wrote this don't mind the fact that it's kinda idk sloppy

"Archons, why does this brat need me at this hour of the night?" You grumbled, as you hiked up the mountain in a gingerly manner. Just a few hours ago you had received a letter from a certain person who you had known for quite some time, Zandik. Zandik has always been the type to push away almost anyone who would interact with him, except if it's needed for a task to be done. You were one of the only people who could stomach his childish complaints. And here you were, also stomaching your friend's request which required you to get out of bed in the middle of the night.

You sighed, looking around the mountain. The luminous flowers glowed under the moonlight, the grass waved and danced with the warm howling breeze of the night. It was silent, the crooning of a nearby lake lulled the gentle sway of the night. The moon who governed the night, peeked through the curtain of leaves as it glowed throughout the night sky, almost making the stars look invisible. Your hair danced with the gentle dance of the wind, almost as if it was leading you to the summit of the mountain.

You stopped by a lake, it's pristine waters reflecting the moonlit night, fireflies danced, glowing so brightly you could mistake them as the shining stars. You chuckled, dipping your fingers gently in the waters, feeling its sway and flow. The lotuses rippled from the light waves caused by the sudden impact of the connection of your hand and water. You smiled, parting your submerged fingers from the water and stood up, but then suddenly a voice rang from behind a veil of leaves.

"Damn imbecile, how long will it take for (Y/N) to get here?!" The voice exclaimed, a slight rasp to the tone. It was pitchy and funny sounding, enough to make you recognize who's voice this was. You laughed silently and parted the veil of leaves slowly, revealing yourself to the familiar voice, Zandik. "The "imbecile" is already here, cretin." You spoke monotonously, emphasizing that last word with a vague smirk creeping on your lips. He turned around hurriedly, his red eyes shooting towards you. His mint hair was ruffled, his eyebags were much more emphasized by the dim lighting, and that scarf..you gave him that scarf which flowed ever so lightly in the wind. He actually kept it? Your face felt warm from the thought that he actually kept that gift you gave him, it just felt quite out of character for him, almost unexpected to the point where it caught you off guard. And not just that, his beauty under the moonlight was envy worthy, you've heard whispers from women in the Akademiya that he was handsome, but you just shrugged it off and never noticed how right they were despite spending so much more time with Zandik than those women, were you that focused on your work?

"AHEM! You're staring (Y/N)." He scoffed, crossing his arms and snapping you back to reality. You instantly fixed your composure and chuckled awkwardly, avoiding his sharp gaze. He raised one of his eyebrows and stared you down, from head to toe. You felt a bead of sweat drop from your face, grumbling a few words before finally turning to Zandik. "So, why did you call me here?" You queried, your gaze focused at his eyes. You noticed his expression soften, becoming gentle. His eyes kept wandering elsewhere which made you slightly tilt your head in confusion. He sighed loudly, making you jump a little bit from the sudden loudness which didn't go well with the silent ambience.

"Come." He mumbled, gesturing you to follow him. He walked calmly as you tread right behind him, admiring the flowers as you pass by. The night fell silent, both your footsteps being the only sounds heard throughout the night. His hands brushed yours, you hummed looking at him who seemed to be avoiding your gaze. You wanted to talk yet you stayed silent. The silence was almost suffocating. He stopped in his tracks, he had led you to a clearing where you could see all of the night sky. The stars twinkled, the moon hung low in the dark skies. You could see the slumbering city just right below you. His silhouette illuminated in the moonlight, his back turned to you. He was fidgeting with his hands for a while until, finally he turned to you with a stoic impression.

His cheeks flushed a slight tint of pink before grumbling and walking close. "(Y/N).." he whispered, taking your hands and enclosing it with his cold ones. You gasped lightly, heat crawling up your face. He pressed his lips together, looking down at both of yours and his hands before reeling them close to him, pulling you along. "You..what have you done to me?" He silently spoke, his breathe tickling your ears. "You, you have captured me in your embrace, making me fragile, vulnerable. You weaken me (Y/N), you break me into tiny pieces. What have you done? What have you done to me..please, I beg you, tell me." His grip held you close, his hair hung, covering the moonlight from reaching his eyes. His tone was desperate, but you had no idea how to respond, what did you do to him exactly?

You could recall moments of him acting peculiar around your presence. Sometimes avoiding you, sometimes clinging onto you like a lost, helpless child. You do well in your studies you admit yet, you couldn't find an answer for his question, not even a single word came to your thought, not even a mutter of an answer was spoken, just pure silence of confusion and desperation. The question rang in your ears loudly like a mantra.

What have you done to me?

What have you done to me?

What have you done to me?

"Zandik, tell me, why ask someone who does not have a single idea nor answer for such queries?" You muttered, caressing his cold, rough hands before turning your gaze to him, even a passerby could confuse you two as lovers from such a stance.

Lovers, love, in love?

Was Zandik, in love with you? Your eyes slightly widened at the sudden opening. A sensation of butterflies swarmed your stomach, so much that it almost felt sickly. You muttered something incoherent, something even you couldn't understand. He stood there silent, awaiting for an answer despite what you said just a few moments ago, desperation was truly powerful.

"Zandik, are you in love with me?"

He raised his eyebrows, his grip tightened on yours. Love? Did he love you? Even a scholar such as him couldn't understand. How come he had never thought of such a phenomenon? Had he been too naive, short on knowledge or had he been blinded? The signs were so clear yet he never considered them, it all felt so far and vague yet it was all so close and clear. He was in love with you, (Y/N). So, so in love with you to the point where it blinded him from seeing it. His mouth slightly hung open, staring onto your features.

"I do, yes I do love you. Words such a these can never express how much I love you (Y/N)." He blurted, leaning close to you, his forehead bumping into yours softly. "Do you love me? Do you truly love me too (Y/N)?" He asked, looking deeply into your eyes which could rival the beauty of the night sky. "I.." you softened your gaze. "Yes!" You smiled pulling your hands from his grip and wrapping it around his neck, pulling him down almost making the both of you fall onto the grass. His hands crept to rest on your waist, pulling you close.

"Can I kiss yo-" before he could finish it, you connected your lips with his, connecting like puzzle pieces. He swiftly placed a hand behind your neck and pulled you closer, deepening the kiss. He sighed in satisfaction and smiled, leaning into you, tilting your head slightly to get a better angle. You chuckled and pulled him into your warmth, breathing heavily. After at least a minute, you pulled away for air. He frowned slightly as you both catched your breathe. "It would've been quite romantic to die of suffocation from your kiss." He laughed throughout each inhale and exhale. You grinned widely, chasing your breathe before fixing your posture and looking at him with sheer admiration. You smiled, caressing his cheek with your hand and placing a little kiss on his nose. "May we never forsaken eachother.." you whispered, leaning onto his chest, listening to the whispers of his heartbeat. He smiled placing a hand on your head and ruffling your hair slowly.

"Our oath under the stars"

[theindianghost]

#@ op’s tags:#it’s those damn lotuses it’s a pheromone

I could talk about all the reasons I ship sangcheng until the cows come home, but I'd only be repeating what other people have said. There is one reason that I haven't ever seen mentioned but it's one of my favourite bonuses of them being shipped; symmetry.

Consider the main trios in MDZS; Yunmeng and 3zun.

Consider that each of the 3zun have a brother (LWJ, JZX, NHS)

Consider that two of those brothers are involved with two of the yunmeng trio.

Consider the perfection, the neatness, the ridiculous fic potential of each of the yunmeng trio dating a brother of one of the 3zun.