#so Lotus is probably babysitting him at all times

[alteredsilicone]

I just realized it makes most sense for Eir to have the closest relationship with the Lotus... he had two moms and he never gave in the fear of Wally, to him love comes naturally. idk he's just a momma's boy (and yes that is why he worked for Suda, mom vibes once again).

[gh0st-t0wn3]

Lmk ss edits + Headcanons, Part 3 (Chang'e, Nezha, Pif, DBK)

- She/Her

- Bisexual w/ male pref (eternally devoted to her husband, Hou Yi, in Chinese mythology though, so I don't ship her with anyone)

- Constellation shaped freckles

- Even though her robot bunnies don't need to eat she still sets out extra plates otherwise she feels bad

- Ambivert

- Used to have a short hair phase

- Aside from cooking she's also good at coloring/painting and makes jewelry for fun

- Can talk for hours on end

- Would absolutely loose her mind if she found out about rollerblading, change my mind

- BIG sweet tooth

- Exchanged a few recipes with Pigsy before they left

- Uses Kaomojis

- Stress eats

- Chang'e and Macaque are besties (I saw other people talking about this and thought it was cute)

- Chang’e is one of the very few people Macaque allows hugs from because she gives the best comforting hugs ever

- She tried to teach MK how to cook once and he failed miserably, she has banned him from the kitchen permanently

- Everytime Macaque complains about something to her it ALWAYS has something to do with Wukong and Chang’e is honestly done with them at this point

- She is always energetic, like seriously, she can run around and cook and exercise for hours and never break a sweat

- She can play the flute

- She does Nezha's hair sometimes when he visits

- Her, Nezha and Macaque will all get together sometimes and just gossip for hours

- Hates it when her kitchen is messy, even when she's in a rush to make something or there's a lot going on she'll be sure to put everything in a neat order

- Smells like cakes, pies and other pastries

- Love language is quality time

- Her skin is always really cold (because of , y'know.. living on the moon) but she's lived there for so long now that she hardly notices anymore

- Doesn't really have a skin care routine and doesn't use a lot of products but her skin is always so soft and clear anyways

- Makes up her own constellations when she stargazes

- She has a small shrine in her house in respect to Hou Yi

- Has two group chats, one with Macaque and Nezha for gossiping, and the other with Pigsy and DBK for cooking

- He/Him

- AroAce

- Put his hair up in a messy bun the ONE time Wukong decided to drop in unannounced, still gets bullied for it to this day

- Would probably die if you ever gave him any kind of soda

- Has a scar on his neck and can even pop his head off like the headless horseman because of... iykyk.. sometimes pulls it off to scare people

- Like Pigsy, he's a huge environmentalist; got super pissed when he heard about climate change and pollution, like he was DEVESTATED

- Really likes chocolate milk, but only drinks it when he's alone because Wukong caught him once and still teases him about it

- Use to babysit Redson when he was little, especially when Princess Iron Fan was too distressed to look after him herself for long periods at a time after her husband was sealed away

- Taught Redson how to harness his powers while he babysat

- Perfect handwriting, it should be a font

- Has difficulty breathing, especially when he gets overwhelmed, due to... yk.. committing..

- Always has a least a small taste of metal in his mouth

- Redson would somehow manage to disappear if Nezha looked away for even a second so he wound up having to get a ring sling to carry him in, no one took him seriously with it on

- Sees PIF as an older sister

- Favourite food is strawberry cake

- Not necessarily a vegetarian but doesn't eat meat often

- Meditates to save and absorb energy instead of sleeping, that way if something happens or someone attacks, he's always awake and ready to handle the situation

- When meditating, stray lotus petals will float around and surround him that act as a shield while also emitting a peaceful aura that keeps both himself and the people around him in a calm state of mind

- Him and Wukong have a sibling rivalry

- Felt incredibly guilty when Redson got trapped in a scroll because he was the one Redson came to when his parents were gone and thought he failed to protect him

- DBK and him have an awkward relationship given the whole "Attack on heaven" thing, but have been trying to find something to bond over for PIF

- Erlang and PIF are basically his older siblings, like they'd be the kind of siblings who'll pretend to give him an important task so he'll leave them alone and then immediately shut and lock the door as soon as he leaves the room, y'know?? He still hasn't forgiven them for that

- Smells like Lotus flowers and strawberries

- Love language is acts of service and words of affirmation

- Likes the idea of hiking and stargazing but never has the time to do it since he's always working

- Isn't afraid to call out someone's bs (*cough* Monkey King *cough*) but can't handle someone calling him out for the literal life of him

- He loves flowers and their symbolism, use to study it before he was tasked with guarding the map to the samadhi rings

- He's actually a really good swimmer but people don't believe him because of his relation to fire

- Has absolutley licked himself to see what he tastes like

- She/Her

- Bisexual

- Has a beautiful singing voice and use to sing lullabies to Redson all the time when he was a kid. Although it's a rare occurrence, she'll sing lullabies to him even now if he gets particularly stressed out or anxious

- Feels guilty about being too mentally unwell to take care of Redson properly after DBK was sealed away when he was little but never knew how to make up for it so she just closed herself off instead which is why she's so cold with him

- Would sleep in a guest bedroom or on the couch for the first few years of DBK being sealed away because she couldn't handle being alone in such a big bed without him

- Follow up on the last HC, after she started sleeping in her and DBK's bed again Redson would sometimes come in in the middle of the night and sleep in bed with her so she felt less lonely but stopped after he turned 11-12 (or at least the Demon equivalent to that age cause he's like 500+)

- Does Redson's hair for him in the morning since he's always too tired to do it himself

- Use to style his hair like hers, with the little horns made of hair, at least until his real horns started growing in

- Her and Macaque are sworn siblings (I have no idea where this HC came from but I saw other people talking about it and thought it was cute)

- Sees Nezha as a younger brother

- Was outcast from her family after DBK started courting her, she was upset for a while but it was worth it

- Super long hair, like it reaches her thighs when it's fully down

- Master calligrapher, seriously her writing is so beautiful and neat

- When DBK was first freed, the first two or so weeks she would stay up as long as possibly and hold onto him so tight whenever she finally did fall asleep because she was scared she'd wake up and he'd be gone again

- Felt like she failed as a mother when she realized she missed Redson's first words, first steps, everything, because Nezha had to look after him while she mourned her husband

- Favourite flowers are Dhalia's

- Because her hair is long it's also very heavy, sometimes if her scalp is particularly sore from keeping it styled up in horns all day DBK will sit with her and brush her hair while she relaxes and watches TV or reads

- Cooks sometimes but isn't as good as DBK

- Has a terrible habit of hiding her emotions from her family (actually the entire Demon Bull Family struggles with this habit)

- Hates the feeling of ink on her skin, someone knocked over a bottle of writing ink in her hand once and she washed it for almost an hour straight to get rid of the feeling of it on her skin

- Smells like Stargazer Lilies

- Love language is quality time and words of affirmation

- Surprisingly big fan of horror movies (conjuring, exorcist, Shining, etc)

- Listens to true crime shows/podcasts while working

- Had servants home-school Redson and then took over home-schooling him herself when he was older

- All her clothes are custom made, and had to get them re-made with fire resistant materials after Redson was born, as well as everything else in the Demon Bull Palace (Clothes, rugs, sheets, blankets, curtains etc)

- Has separate makeup and jewelry boxes, one for everyday wear, and one for special events (anniversaries,  royal gatherings, etc)

- Ambivert

- If she runs out of patience for you, you will literally die

- He/Him

- Bisexual

- Hardly recognized Redson when he was freed from the mountain, which is why he didn't address him as quickly as he did Iron Fan

- Has a hard time trying to Remember Redson isn't little anymore, was devestated that he didn't get to watch him grow up

- Tries to connect with Redson and learn about his interests but it just comes off as really awkward for both of them

- Throws all of MK's (and other suitors) Courting gifts to Redson away if he sees them before Redson does (I am a firm believer of overprotective dad DBK)

- Learned how to cook for Iron Fan after they started courting eachother to impress her and it grew into an actual hobby of his, now he likes to cook and bake when he's stressed instead of yelling and breaking things (especially after the Lady Bone Demon incident)

- All his old cook books are pretty much dust after not being used and taken care of for several centuries and although he was upset, he still remembers a few of the recipes, majority of the food he makes now is what he learned from watching Chang'e's cooking show

- Exchanges recipes with Pigsy after getting to know eachother a bit at the beach, but they don't talk much outside of food related topics

- Once walked in on Redson and MK making out in Redsons room and promptly threw MK out the window (he was fine)

- Use to allow Wukong to take naps on his chest while they were still in the Brotherhood, mostly because Wukong would never stop and DBK eventually gave up on trying to get him to stop

- Got really emotional when he found out Redson got a nose ring to match with him (pretended not to care but started crying when he was alone)

- Keeps a photo of PiF and Redson with him at all times, it's not in great condition anymore because he was buried under the mountain with it, but it's too sentimental for him to replace it

- Knows Redsons date of birth down to the exact hour by heart (Canon in JTTW)

- Touch starved, being locked away for 500 years definitely took a toll on him

- Still hasn't entirely forgiven Wukong for calling Redson a "half-baked son"

- Much like how PIF will sing to Redson when he's particularly stressed or anxious, DBK will cook Redson his favorite childhood meal; he was worried the first time it happened because he wasn't sure how to handle Redsons emotional state and also wasn't sure if he still liked the dish he loved as a child, but Redson was visibly happier (or at least calmer) afterwards so he'll keep making it for him

- Has a sepertate pen and writing ink that he uses exclusively for writing to PIF

- He's a sucker for romance movies

- Will pick Redson up by the back of his shirt like a cat and drag him to bed if he's overworking himself

- Invited the Brotherhood to see Redson when he was first born; was disappointed when Azure, Peng and Yellowtusk never showed up

- Goes all out on him and PiF's anniversary to make up for the 500 anniversaries he missed (same with PIF and Redson's birthdays)

- Smells like dirt and regretful life choices (fr though he's been under a mountain for 500 years, that smell doesn't wash away easy after that long, Iron Fan surprisingly doesn't mind, but maybe she's just too happy that he's back to care enough about it)

- Love language is physical touch and quality time

- Cried watching the Titanic, don't even try to tell me otherwise

- Hopeless romantic

- Loves spicy food but doesn't have as high a tolerance as Redson (still very high though, but I mean c'mon, Redson is literally a fire demon)

- Cannot understand or use technology for the life of him, he's calling in Redson left and right asking how to download something or how to get onto another website

- Still feels guilty whenever he sees Redson flinch at him (because of the whole almost killing Redson when he was possessed by the Lady Bone Demon)

[blackcatruse]

𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔞𝔰𝔥𝔢𝔰

«prev. ❃ next» ❃ first chapter ❃ m.list ❃ ao3 pairing: r. haitani/fem!reader ↳ she/her, fem descriptors, nickname ❃ chapter synopsis: i don't need friends, they disappoint me. but wouldn't it be nice to have someone to depend on during the chaos of now? word count: 2.5k chapter cw(s): swearing, possible ooc, implied/mentioned abuse a/n: i love writing the Four Symbols. they're all horrible people :) also sorry for the overload of OCs i'm just yeeting in there, but i guess that happens when you make up a gang.

“Hey, are you with me? Lotus?”

You felt a flick to your forehead and blinked, focusing on the person sitting across from you. You couldn’t hide that you’d been spacier than usual, your brain was a blender, swirling and liquefying all your thoughts. Between the job with Rokuhara and the announcement Suzaku had made at the division meeting and the fact that Genbu asked for you made your barely recovered head spin even more.

You lightly shook your head. “Sorry, just thinking about stuff.”

Nezumi leaned on the table with his chin in his hand. “Clearly, but honestly I don’t blame you. You’ve kind of been through a lot lately.”

“Something like that,” you laughed weakly. “I’m sorry you’re stuck babysitting me.”

“It’s not a big deal. Suzaku said runners were required to work in pairs for the foreseeable future, and honestly, I don’t mind being paired with the best.” Nezumi flashed a genuine smile and you didn’t know how to respond.

Nobody in your division liked you, or at least that’s what you figured based on the stares and whispers. You didn’t let it get to you and you played into the unlikeable persona because people would leave you alone. Unfortunately, after the incident that left you with a concussion, Suzaku declared that no runner was allowed to do a job alone. Top runners had priority, so it would be you, Nezumi, Shika, and probably-Hato. The four of you naturally gravitated towards each other and decided you’d pair up that way. It was going to be inconvenient though.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” you mumbled, pushing your food around your plate.

Nezumi sighed. “You’re weird,” he said. “But you’re not as bad as you make yourself out to be.”

“But I’m still some degree of bad,” you said, accenting your words with a jab of your fork in his direction.

“We all are,” Nezumi pointed out. “None of us are exactly doing clean work. Anyway, stop being so grumpy. You need friends.”

“And you’re offering?” You raised an eyebrow. “I thought we were just supposed to be discussing our usual jobs and how to make things work with our schedules.”

“Stop dodging the question,” Nezumi said, on the verge of whining. “But yeah, we do need to work out when our runs are happening and any other jobs Suzaku gives us.”

“I make my weekly runs to Kabukicho on Sunday,” you told him. “There’s no set time, except for the guy that owns Byakko’s space. Gotta get to him before 5pm.”

“Noted. I run Ōtemachi and Marunouchi on Wednesdays and Fridays. Both during the day, preferably in the morning.”

You nodded, mapping out the locations in your mind. “I can’t say I’m fond of any time before noon, but I’d rather not get my face beat in again. Either by Suzaku or the other guys.”

Nezumi’s face twisted into something uncomfortable. He rubbed his temples. “Can you have a normal conversation with anyone?”

“Nope!” You grinned. “It’s part of my charm.”

“Right,” Nezumi said flatly. “Charm.”

“I’m sensing sarcasm from you.”

“Hmm, I’ll try harder to mask it next time. Anyway, what’s your current burner number? It would be best if we can get into contact outside of division meetings.” Nezumi held out his own burner phone.

“Huh? Oh yeah sure.” You took it from his hand and punched in the number you had just memorized. It would be changed by the end of the month, since it made it a little harder for the cops to sniff out Wuxing’s trail.

Adding a little ‘<3’ to the end of your contact name, you finally handed the phone back to Nezumi. He looked at it, sighed, and looked at you with dull eyes. You just waved like nothing had transpired. He shook his head and stood. “I’ll get in touch soon,” he promised. He gave you a lazy wave before heading out and you put your head down on the table.

It was going to be a little harder to traipse around with the Haitanis like this, but you’d figure it out. Right now you had more pressing problems, like why the hell Genbu needed to see you. You did your part of the operation and you weren’t important enough to be part of the circle that knew. 

You couldn’t even think about why these people were so obsessed with you. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, remarkable about you. You spent the first thirteen years of your life raised in an area where nobody would care if you or your family disappeared. Your father wasn’t in the picture. You didn’t know who he was and your mother refused to talk about him. You quickly learned to stop asking about him when she threw a ceramic tea cup at your head. The memories of your mother were fairly fuzzy, thanks to the years working for Wuxing that shaved time from your lifespan. You remembered the day you found your mother dead, and it was something that you could never forget. You didn’t think you ever could.

Of course, after your mother’s death, your brother spiraled deeper and deeper into gambling. He lost his job. He spent all day most days drunk and wasted instead of sober. You were still too young to get a part-time job, but you were certain that your brother would burn any money you brought in.

You were able to keep you and your brother afloat because sometimes he would come home from gambling with cold hard cash. You’d take some from him when he finally blacked out. He never remembered how much he won, so as long as you left something, you could at least get groceries and pay rent and bills. Even when he caught you and beat you within an inch of your life, you still kept stealing from him. You weren’t going to let yourself be thrown onto the streets. Trying times made you consider learning to pickpocket, but before that could come to a head, Wuxing came knocking.

At that point, you weren’t even sure you were human anymore. You had lost weight. You were covered with bruises that could easily be hidden under school uniforms. Anyone who saw you turned a blind eye, because it wasn’t their business what happened in your home. You hated every second of it, and it all culminated when your brother sold you in an attempt to ease his debts. Your brother’s blood was still warm on your face when Genbu’s men grabbed you. They whispered terrible things in your ear, telling you in explicit detail how they planned to make you pay “your” debt.

Your first few years with Wuxing were something you wished you could scrub from your mind. Yet, you would never be clean of the things done to you and what you had done. Even now you felt like there was a disconnect between you and your body. Just a permanent state of detachment that would rear its head if you weren’t cracking jokes or making a conscious effort.

Fuck, you had to get your shit together before you went to Genbu. Throwing a wad of yen on the table, you stood and headed out. Everything around you was a blur as you made your way to the abandoned police station where Genbu did his business.

There was a specific knock you were supposed to use, but you couldn’t be bothered to remember it. You popped a stick of gum in your mouth before loudly banging on the door and yelling. It had the same effect of getting attention and before you could even strike the door a third time, a disgruntled looking Genbu had opened the door.

“You tryna make trouble?” he grunted.

Your smile was devilishly saccharine. “It’s what I do best.”

Genbu snorted before stepping back and letting you walk in. You hadn’t been to this part of Wuxing’s domain. Each of the Four Symbols had their own regions where they conducted business and very rarely did these overlap. You were one of the few that had seen Seiryu’s underground fighting ring and Byakko’s brothels. Now having visited Genbu’s hideout, you were familiar with each of the Four Symbols’ kingdoms. Probably one of the only lower status members, now that you thought about it.

Wuxing’s upper echelons may spit on you, but even they couldn’t argue that you weren’t good at what you do.

“What couldn’t wait until the big meeting that made you call for me now?” you asked as Genbu closed the door.

“Whoever we caught,” Genbu started, “they know who you are.”

You stared at Genbu. “Yeah, I’m Suzaku’s Lot—”

“No, they know your real name.”

What?

What?

“That doesn’t make sense,” you said, stumbling over your words. You couldn’t hide how shaken you were. Any mention of who you were before sent you into a horrifying spiral. “Nobody should know who I am.”

“That’s what we thought too,” Genbu said.

“We?”

“Follow me.” Genbu didn’t wait for a response before he started walking away. You jogged a little to catch up with him and he walked into a room. Stepping inside you saw Suzaku, Byakko, and Seiryu. Your eyes quickly scanned the room for any sign that you were going to be murdered, but they stopped when they landed on the one way mirror to the adjacent room.

There were four men, each handcuffed to a chair and displaying a variety of bruises and bloodied faces.

“What the hell?” you asked, voice barely a whisper.

“They haven’t given us any useful information,” Genbu said. “But they know who you are, who your mother was, and who your brother was. When we asked further, they said nothing. Just laughed. Said they’d only talk if it was to  you.”

Fuck, it was exactly like the guy you and Rindou had run into. Almost as if they could tell you were staring at them, their heads snapped up and they looked straight at you. Even the Four Symbols stiffened at the sudden movement.

“Did you bring her?” the one third from the right asked. Maybe he was the leader? He sounded familiar, like the one you had met in that warehouse.

They had been locked up here so long you doubted they were high, unless Genbu drugged them during the interrogation. But the unnerving smiles they wore... This was too much for you.

Genbu moved forward and spoke into an old microphone on the desk. “She’s here.”

“No, let her speak.”

Genbu stepped away and motioned you to come forward. You weren’t entirely sure what to say, but you knew you were close to snapping. “I’m here. What do you want?”

You prayed they didn’t hear the waver of your voice, but if they did they gave no indication. “Do you remember your mother?” the leader asked, using your real name.

You shuddered. “Not really,” you lied.

“I see,” he hummed. “Do you know anything about your family?”

Even though they couldn’t see it, you shrugged. “Just that my sperm donor was a deadbeat, Mom hated when we asked about him, and my brother was a bastard.”

That got a chuckle out of the four men in the interrogation room.

“Would you like to know?”

“What?” Your blood froze. Behind you the Four Symbols exchanged confused glances.

“Everything you need to know,” the man said. “You will learn if you—”

“I’m not interested.”

The man frowned. Was he expecting you to give a shit about the people who made your life go from worse to absolute hell? All you cared about was getting out of Wuxing, maybe even the country, and never coming back.

“Just seems like a lot of trouble,” you drawled. “I don’t particularly care about my family history.”

“Are you loyal to Wuxing? Did he convince you to join them?”

You didn’t ask for clarification because if they knew who you were, then surely they knew your brother got you into this mess. “Something like that,” you said, keeping the answer neutral. The last thing you wanted was any of the Four Symbols to think you were betraying them. Well, you supposed your record wasn’t exactly clean in that aspect, but it didn’t include these sorry bastards in front of you.

“That is unfortunate,” the man hummed. “Well, if you ever want answers, consider seeking Nirvana.”

You looked back at Suzaku and Genbu, avoiding eye contact with Byakko and ignoring Seiryu. They were blank faced and likely as confused as you were. Genbu stepped forward and pulled you away from the mic. “What do you mean?” he demanded. “Who are you people? How do you know these—”

Suzaku jerked Genbu back and the man’s words were cut off. Then, like a switch was flipped, the captives dropped their heads and refused to answer any more questions or demands. You were confused to start with, but now it was even worse. You weren’t anyone of importance. You knew you weren’t.

It seemed like the Four Symbols had an idea of what was going on, but they weren’t going to tell you. Rarely did you ever need to know what was happening, and truthfully you didn’t want to. The less you knew about the situation the better.

Ignorance was bliss and you refused to let go of that. “I don’t know what the hell they want from me,” you said. There wasn’t anything defensive about your tone, just confusion and fear.

Genbu ran a hand down his face. “Yeah, we gathered that.” He sighed. “We’re going to have to report this to Kirin.”

You could almost feel the collective groan they didn’t let out. So they hated reporting to their boss too. You would almost feel sympathy if you hadn’t been tormented by every single one of them.

“You’re not coming,” Suzaku said immediately.

“Huh?!” You were genuinely taken aback at how quickly Suzaku snapped that out. “I didn’t say anything and I don’t want to!”

“That’s a first,” Byakko snorted.

You wanted to turn around and snarl at him but you didn’t. “I don’t want to be tangled up in this shit any more than I have to. I don’t know a goddamn thing about what they were saying. I’m not important. You all know this! The only reason you haven’t killed me yet is because of my stupid brother’s debt and because I’m maybe a good runner.”

You didn’t want to break down in front of the Four Symbols, but they said nothing as tears streamed down your face. If they were kinder, they would have taken pity on your confusion and anxiety, but they didn’t care. They had seen enough that you breaking down wasn’t going to faze them.

“Seiryu, take Lotus home,” Suzaku ordered. “I’m going to get in touch with Kirin and figure out what we’re going to do next. Genbu, keep digging for information. Byakko, keep an eye out in your territory.” Suzaku looked you in your stinging, teary eyes, “And Lotus, you don’t fucking go anywhere alone.”

Please do not reupload, translate, or steal my work! If it isn't here or on my ao3, it's not me! Likes & reblogs appreciated! <3 Dividers courtesy of @/cafekitsune & @/firefly-graphics

[neuvistar]

LOTUS FLOWER. part 2 (fluff + neuvillette version)

— featuring ┊neuvillette x f!reader

— warnings / content warnings ┊fluff ver! these sweethearts as fathers AAA, established relationships (u guys r married!!) genshin papas on the brain rn guys ! !

— a/n ┊omg stop i didn’t post this the day after lotus flower pt 2 but it’s okay! uhmm.. anyways! here’s part two of this guys ! ! it’s literally like a copy of my hsr fic (hsr men as fathers) but whatevs!! i’m planning 2 do the other five as well n maybe more genshin men before october ends bc i am SOOOO late it’s not even funny guys.. reblogs VERY much appreciated !

#𝟏 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐃, 𝐍𝐄𝐔𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄

— NEUVILLETTE is an outstanding father, let’s make that very clear! he’s like that typa father that’s a little protective but also let’s his kids run off with the wind ! he loves seeing them run free whenever he takes care of them, there’s just something about his children’s happiness that makes him happy too. neuvillette is a sweetheart yes we all know that, but i’m sure there are times where he can be protective of his little dragonlings n protect them if needed ! he worries a lot about his behaviour n wonders if he’s too overbearing, or too carefree with his kids, please let him know that he’s doing just fine !

— NEUVILLETTE in my opinion would have about 2-3 (damn) little dragonlings! (or more.. maybe..) two boys n maybe a little daughter! he would love all his babies from the moon and back ! he ADORES them, and i mean ADOREEESSS them !! when you first gave birth to your first child, he probably started crying tears of joy because of how happy he is bringing a new life onto this world, he adores his babies sm trust me

— NEUVILLETTE would probably ask some melusines to babysit and help with his kids! just imagine, neuvillette working in his office while his babies run around alongside a melusine! ITS SO CUTE ! he thinks it’s absolutely adorable how close of a relationship his dragonlings have with them, it’s just so so cute !

— NEUVILLETTE is an outstanding father n all, but i feel like he would want 2 be a lil more extra ! because of the fact his hair might’ve been tied by the melusines, i feel like he would shyly ask the melusines for advice on how to tie hair or style it in general, he would work SO hard to perfect it ! everyday your little princess would always have her hair done by her papa, who spent many many minutes trying his best to perfect her hair !

“did daddy do your hair again?”

“mhm! papa always does my hair ! i like it when he does it, i really like the clips! <3” (SO CUTE)

— NEUVILLETTE would also be thrilled when his kids inherit his little horns and dragon features, i can only imagine him sitting down with them and telling them all about the past, and how they should love themselves and their unique features. despite that, he lets them know that they will be loved no matter their indifferences from everyone else. because of his deep longing of learning more about his existence and his belonging to fontaine, neuvillette is a man of his words.. he’s willing to teach his kids these sorts of things, he wouldn’t want them to undergo such stressful things at such young ages, he loves his babies and he WILL make sure they know he and their mama loves them very much !

“i— hng.. princess! you need to take a bath!” neuvillette’s face twists with worry as his kids run around the house, their tails and horns they inherited from him swishing and moving around as smooth as the sea, the waves and waves of laughter filling his ears. “come now, your mother will be upset if she sees you all walking around like this..!” the chief justice scratched the back of his neck, running after his dragonlings with a small towel in his hands. ah, this has always been a common issue. neuvillette was worried about his kids slipping and hurting themselves more than anything else in the world

thanking the archons above, neuvillette wrapped his strong arms around his dragonlings and scooped them up.. sighing in relief. “alright alright.. you little dragons are giving papa such a hard time.. bonté.“ the larger male chuckled, drying his babies with the towel with a sense of relief, his lips curved into a soft smile. “now, will you promise papa not to run around like that again?” his voice was gentle, like he was trying not to make it seem like he was scolding them.

“uh-huh! we promise!”

“mm.. i don’t believe you.” neuvillette coos, kissing the temple of their foreheads with a light stroke to their hair. “come now, let’s go make some food for your mother while we wait.. your mom must be exhausted after she comes back, right?”

“mhm!”

[featherfur]

Jiang Cheng deciding to trust Wen Ning but forgets to actually tell him and so it just makes it super fucking weird when Jiang Cheng approached him and is like “Hey you remember that time when I was having the second worst day of my life and you showed up and admitted you let me live half my life as a lie in order to hurt me because you’re almost a Lan Wangji level simp for Wei Wuxian?”

And Wen Ning, trying to understand what the fuck is happening “uh…. Yes?”

“Great I have to go to a conference at Qinghe Nie and I need you to watch my kids. Consider it repayment.”

Wen Ning is about to have a heart attack, the scariest guy alive with a purple whip designed to kill things like him and who has a huge grudge against him has summoned him to Lotus Pier and is now asking him to- wait what?

“Uhm… sir,” Wen Ning is so ready to bolt, “isn’t Sect Leader Jin going to the conference too?”

“Eh? Yeah, oh no not that kid, I need you to watch my kids, these ones.” And Jiang Cheng steps aside to reveal like eight 3-9 year olds who were hiding behind him.

“Zi-shushu! Mom said I’m not supposed to be friends with fierce corpses!” One of them shouts and Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes.

“One, it’s hopping corpses you can’t be friends with because you let them into your house, second of all she can’t tell me what to do. Anyways Ouyang’s brat that Zizhen said he’d come and help, he got in trouble and kicked out of the conference…. Well? Can you do it?”

Jiang Cheng returns to find Wen Ning sitting on a pier covered in lotus blossoms, and small children including some he knows are from the town, and Zizhen is being drowned in the lake by some of Jiang Cheng’s more… rambunctious kids. Wen Ning gets invited to babysit anytime, he still hasn’t been told Jiang Cheng approves of him and he doesn’t know how to explain to anyone that he’s pretty sure that these kids could probably take over the cultivation world except they all insist that “Zi-shushu” said that they couldn’t do that until he died.

[bloody-bee-tea]

OMG! 13 and 16 for surprise!

13) “How do you just find a baby?!”

(The fic for 16 is still in the works, also you didn't clarify the pairing so I just went wild with Mingcheng)

Jiang Cheng is panicking. Nie Mingjue wasn’t scheduled to come to Lotus Pier for at least another week and Jiang Cheng doesn’t have an excuse ready.

He’s not sure he would have one ready in a weeks’ time, either, but he certainly doesn’t have one now.

“Do you want us to send him away?” Jiang Cheng’s second in command asks, warily eyeing the two toddlers currently playing together and Jiang Cheng debates for a quick second if he could get away with simply telling him yes.

He doubts that Nie Mingjue can be sent away, though, and so he simply sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Alright then,” his second says, clearly knowing him well enough to understand and promptly leaves the room.

Jiang Cheng anxiously walks up and down in the room, but he can’t calm himself down and so he simply picks up one of the toddlers. Maybe this will help him.

It’s not long before Nie Mingjue comes into the room, and by then it’s hard to say who is more anxious: the toddler or Jiang Cheng himself.

Nie Mingjue stops dead in his tracks when his eyes fall on the toddler in Jiang Cheng’s arms and Jiang Cheng looks helplessly at him.

“Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue greets him, though he doesn’t take his eyes off the kid. “What is this?”

“Mingjue,” Jiang Cheng gives back and he thinks now might not be the best time to go over there and ask for his greeting kiss.

It looks like Nie Mingjue wouldn’t appreciate that much right now.

“What is going on here?” Nie Mingjue asks again when Jiang Cheng stays silent in a desperate hope to not have to answer any questions, but of course it’s futile.

You don’t just bring a second kid home and expect your boyfriend to simply accept that.

“I didn’t steal him!” is the first thing Jiang Cheng thinks to say and he can see how Nie Mingjue’s mouth twitches.

He can’t be too mad then, if his first instinct is to laugh at Jiang Cheng’s panic.

“Okay?” Nie Mingjue asks and crosses his arms in front of his chest.

Paired with the stern look on his face it’s almost enough to make Jiang Cheng shrink back, but then Jin Ling pulls himself up on Nie Mingjue’s leg and Nie Mingjue immediately softens.

“Come here, my little chicken,” Nie Mingjue says and lifts Jin Ling up, throwing him in the air once to make him laugh, before he settles him on his hip.

“Do you want to try that again, now?” Nie Mingjue then asks and Jiang Cheng can’t say that he wants to, no.

Still, he tries.

“He’s an orphan,” Jiang Cheng says, because that is technically true and is probably the thing Nie Mingjue cares most about right now.

“I should hope so, because otherwise you would have been stealing that kid away,” Nie Mingjue says with a nod, but he dutifully lowers his head when Jin Ling indicates that he wants to slobber a kiss over his cheek.

Jiang Cheng’s heart still does a funny little thing in his chest when he sees that and he hopes that will never stop.

“I found him?” Jiang Cheng tries next, thought that is not the truth and Nie Mingjue gives him a very judging look.

“How do you just find a baby? You haven’t even been on any night hunts!”

“How would you know about that?” Jiang Cheng asks with a frown, because it’s been weeks since they saw each other.

“If you really think your second in command doesn’t keep me updated, then you’re mistaken,” Nie Mingjue says with a huff and drops a kiss onto the scrunched up face of Jin Ling. “He tells me every time you go on a night hunt, so I know you haven’t been on one. So please, do pray tell, where would you just find a random baby?”

“He’s not a random baby,” Jiang Cheng protest immediately, because it does sound kind of rude when Nie Mingjue says it like that and then he startles when Nie Mingjue comes closer.

Jiang Cheng moves as many steps back as Nie Mingjue takes forward, but it’s not long before his back hits the wall and then there’s nowhere for him to go.

“He’s not, is he?” Nie Mingjue thoughtfully says as he scrutinizes the toddler in Jiang Cheng’s arms. “Jiang Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue then says as he straightens up and Jiang Cheng immediately tenses. “Why do you have Lan Jingyi with you?”

Ah, damn. Of course Nie Mingjue would know him.

“Don’t sound so stern, you’re scaring him,” Jiang Cheng tries, even though Lan Jingyi seems anything but scared, as he reaches out for Nie Mingjue, who willingly takes him with his other arm.

“Big gege!” Lan Jingyi yells out and throws his arms around Nie Mingjue’s neck.

Jin Ling is not yet at the stage where he speaks—he brabbles, a lot—but Jiang Cheng hopes that he doesn’t get as loud as Lan Jingyi. He doesn’t know how he would get anything done if he has two loud kids to take care of.

“Small didi,” Nie Mingjue gives back with a laugh, but his eyes don’t leave Jiang Cheng and he knows he has to explain this now.

“Not here,” Jiang Cheng says with a sigh, knowing when he’s defeated, and he signs for Nie Mingjue to follow him.

The kids stay behind, and Jiang Cheng nods to the disciple who is on babysitting duty for this afternoon. He trusts all his disciples with the kids, but he still doesn’t like leaving them behind.

This talk should be held without them though, because at least Lan Jingyi is old enough to understand more than Jiang Cheng really wants him to.

So he leads Nie Mingjue into his personal quarters and Jiang Cheng is glad that Nie Mingjue doesn’t ask any questions on the way there. Jiang Cheng is still not sure how to explain this properly and he really doesn’t want any of his disciples to overhear them.

As far as they are concerned, Lan Jingyi is really just a kid he picked up on the way back from the Cloud Recesses.

“So?” Nie Mingjue asks him when they have spent at least two minutes inside of Jiang Cheng’s quarters without talking and Jiang Cheng sighs as he scrubs a hand over his face.

“I did not steal him,” he reiterates again, because he still thinks that’s important.

“Good, because I don’t think Lan Qiren would like that. He has always been awfully fond of Jingyi.”

“I know,” Jiang Cheng whispers, because every time he was at the Cloud Recesses it was evident just how much Lan Qiren doted on Lan Jingyi. “It’s why he asked me to take him in,” he then goes on and Nie Mingjue raises an eyebrow.

“He asked you to?” he clarifies and Jiang Cheng wishes he still had the letter Lan Qiren sent him, because that explains everything a lot better than he could, but he burned it as soon as he read it, just like Lan Qiren requested.

“He invited me over and asked me if I could take Jingyi in.”

“He was well taken care of in the Cloud Recesses, was he not?” Nie Mingjue asks and Jiang Cheng is glad to hear no judgement in his voice. He’s just curious and Jiang Cheng could sob he’s so relieved about that.

“Apparently he’s loud,” Jiang Cheng says and nods towards the door. “He greets you like that always, right?”

Nie Mingjue nods.

“And he greets everyone like that. Lan Yuan already knows not to run and to yell, and he’s only a few months older than Jingyi, and Lan Qiren feared that Jingyi isn’t a good fit for the Lan Sect.” Jiang Cheng frowns, because that feels wrong. “That the rules don’t suit him,” he tries again, and that is better.

It’s not Lan Jingyi’s fault he’s a lively and loud kid and he shouldn’t be punished for it. Lan Qiren is obviously of the same mind and so he had asked Jiang Cheng if he could take Lan Jingyi in.

“So you took him in,” Nie Mingjue says and comes closer to pull Jiang Cheng into his side. “And you were worried.”

Jiang Cheng shrugs, because it’s true. He was so damn worried.

“About what?” Nie Mingjue wants to know and Jiang Cheng looks at the floor.

“You’re already putting up with so much with me,” he admits. “The rebuilding and Jin Ling—asking you to take care of yet another kid that isn’t even yours seems like too much.”

“But you’re taking care of yet another kid that isn’t even yours,” Nie Mingjue shoots back and presses a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s forehead. “I don’t seem why I should be any different.”

“It’s just—it was my decision. But you’re not obligated to stay—with me,” Jiang Cheng finishes with a whisper, because this is really what he is most afraid of.

Nie Mingjue has been so understanding and supportive of everything so far, and Jiang Cheng is just afraid to find that there’s an end to Nie Mingjue’s support and love. It would break Jiang Cheng’s heart if there was one, but it wouldn’t really come as a surprise.

Jiang Cheng has a whole bag of issues—Jin Ling and his still growing Sect the least of them—and it’s not fair to Nie Mingjue.

“Yeah, because I’m staying out of obligation,” Nie Mingjue says with an eyeroll. “And not because I love you and our little family.”

The last part is said in a soft whisper and it immediately brings tears to Jiang Cheng’s eyes.

“I just wasn’t sure,” he mumbles but he also turns fully into Nie Mingjue and slings his arms around him.

“And that’s okay,” Nie Mingjue agrees, returning the gesture. “But know that you’re wrong. Jingyi will do a lot better here than in the Cloud Recesses, I’m sure of it. I was kind of worried for him, you know,” Nie Mingjue admits. “Their rules seem to go against everything he is, even at this age, and I’m glad he gets to grow up without them.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jiang Cheng gives back with a sigh. “Plus it’s good that A-Ling has someone his age around. I was afraid he wouldn’t be able to make many friends here, seeing as there are not many kids around.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” Nie Mingjue says with a small laugh. “I hope you are aware that Jingyi and A-Yuan are already inseparable. Xichen will be over quite a lot, I reckon.”

Jiang Cheng freezes because he did not think about that yet, but then he relaxes again. It will be good for both Jin Ling and Lan Jingyi to have Lan Yuan over and it’s not like Jiang Cheng can fault Lan Yuan for the crimes of a family he never really got to know. It will be fine.

“Though, I guess there is one thing,” Nie Mingjue says and he pushes Jiang Cheng away from him, which instantly makes him panic.

“What?” he wearily asks, because he thought they were past the worst of it. He thought Nie Mingjue already said he would stay.

“He can’t be Lan Jingyi here,” Nie Mingjue says and flicks Jiang Cheng’s forehead. “You’ll have to formally adopt him, so he can take the Jiang name.”

“Oh,” Jiang Cheng whispers and is ashamed to feel tears spring to his eyes.

He never did thought of any kid wearing the Jiang name like that ever again but Nie Mingjue is right.

“Jiang Jingyi,” Jiang Cheng mutters. “You think he’ll like it?”

“I think he’ll love it,” Nie Mingjue says, and there is no hint of doubt in his voice. “Just like he’ll love you.”

“Like you love me?” Jiang Cheng dares to ask, because there is still that niggling doubt in him.

“Like I love you,” Nie Mingjue easily agrees and pulls him in for a soft kiss. “Now let’s get back to the kids, lest they forget who their dads are.”

“Oh,” Jiang Cheng breathes out because he didn’t dare to think about that yet.

He will make sure to tell Jin Ling about his real parents, but he guesses Nie Mingjue is right. They are going to be their parents.

Jiang Cheng never thought of himself as a father, but he finds that as terrifying a thought that is, he quite likes it.

“Okay,” Jiang Cheng agrees with a smile and takes Nie Mingjue’s hand when he offers it to him.

It’s time to get back to their sons.

Dialogue Prompts

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

[robininthelabyrinth]

Unfettered (aka NHS goes feral) - part 4 - previous parts: on ao3 or tumblr pt 1, pt 2, pt 3

-

Wei Wuxian wasn’t going to lie: it was weird seeing Nie Huaisang smiling again.

It wasn’t that he didn’t remember how Nie Huaisang used to behave when they were all back at the Cloud Recesses, and even before, but that seemed so long ago these days that it might as well have occurred in a past life. The expression just didn’t fit him anymore, like a grown man trying to return to the clothing of his childhood, and yet at the same time it was wretchedly familiar, even welcome – it was as if time had reversed course all at once, plucking them all out of the stream of their lives and returning them to how it used to be long before. Back to simpler, happier times.

It was kind of funny, actually.

Those that had not known Nie Huaisang as anything other than the Pallbearer seemed to be in a state of utter shock, gossiping madly – Did you see? He was smiling! He laughed at someone’s joke! He told a joke! He patted that child on the head and said ‘good job’ and the child didn’t cry even once!

Those that had known him from before only by reputation were, if anything, even more aghast – Do you think he’s going to start pouting and crying at things again? Surely not, I can’t even imagine! The last time he pouted was when one of his fans got stained, remember, after he stuck it straight through that man’s throat –

Those that had known him from before in person…

Well, the reaction was mixed. There was some relief, some distress, and a great deal of pain as they remembered once again how much their friend had changed in the wake of his brother’s near-death – the reminder of his former self was both nostalgic and bittersweet.

Personally, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were working through their feelings on the subject with the help of a lot of roleplaying involving their time at the Cloud Recesses. It was very healthy of them, emotionally, although maybe not so healthy for the state of Wei Wuxian’s waist. Or throat. Or hands…

(No, they weren’t officially married yet, since they were still hoping that they could have a proper ceremony when the war ended, but they were both of age and engaged. And that meant they could go to bed together, no matter what some of the more conservative Lan sect members thought – with Lan Qiren backing them up, which he did with no small amount of eye-rolling and deep sighs and long-suffering resignation, they were free to do as they pleased.)

That, too, was something they owed to Nie Huaisang.

Without Nie Huaisang’s timely intervention, both Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng would’ve fallen for the Jin sect’s instigation and turned against each other in an act of mutual destruction that harmed both of them, and everyone else besides. Jiang Cheng would have cut off his own right arm, voluntarily weakening his sect just at the moment when they needed strength the most, and rendered himself without any other choice but to be dependent on Lanling Jin, while Wei Wuxian would have remained trapped in the Burial Mounds in Yiling, getting called the Yiling Patriarch as some people still today did, growing ever more resentful at his isolation and poverty.

(That one uncomfortable month he’d spent arguing with Wen Qing and Wen Ning about whether they should try to grow radishes or potatoes had been very educational, especially since they were both not-so-secretly convinced that the argument was futile and that nothing would ever grow on the Burial Mounds, such that they were just whiling away time until they all starved to death.)

They would be scattered, weakened, unhappy and vulnerable. Wei Wuxian would be sitting there like a giant target until the Jin sect decided, in their leisure, to deal with him the way, in hindsight, they had so obviously always intended to.

Wei Wuxian would have missed his sister’s wedding, probably. He might even have missed Jiang Yanli’s widowing, and the consequences of that were unthinkable.

If Wei Wuxian hadn’t brought the Wen sect back with him to the Lotus Pier as a result of Jiang Cheng’s defiance of the cultivation world’s criticism, Wen Qing and Jiang Yanli would never had the chance to hit it off the way they had, becoming fast friends. If they hadn’t been friends, Wen Qing wouldn’t have been visiting Jinlin Tower to check up on her good friend when the news of Jin Zixuan’s death had first spread.

His murder, rather – Wei Wuxian wasn’t terribly clear on the details, but it wasn’t really necessary. Jin Guangshan had pressed his legitimate son’s filial piety to the breaking point in his pursuit of power, and finally he must have done something to go too far, to cause there to be a real break between them. Jin Zixuan must have made clear that he would not play along, no matter what, and by that point Jin Guangshan already knew there was Jin Guangyao waiting in the sidelines to step up and take his place. There was no other way it could have gone, simply because there was no other reason for both Jin Zixuan and his mother to so conveniently die on the very same day.

If it hadn’t been for Nie Huaisang convincing Jiang Cheng, Wen Qing wouldn’t have been there. Wen Qing wouldn’t have been available to be bold and decisive, the way she was with her medicine; she wouldn’t have been able to persuade Jiang Yanli of the possibility of danger and then to smuggler out of Jinlin Tower and take her on the run in disguise, long before it occurred to anyone else that there might be some threat to her – that the Jin sect might decide to hold her hostage, or worse.

Definitely worse. If Jin Guangyao had had the chance to figure out what only Wen Qing had known back then – that Jiang Yanli, barely more than a newlywed, already carried the next heir to Lanling Jin within her belly…

Jin Guangyao’s ambitions would never have let Jin Zixuan live, a fact they’d all only realized in horrible helpless hindsight, but if Wen Qing had been trapped in Yiling with Wei Wuxian at the time, instead of visiting Lanling, then Jiang Yanli…

Wei Wuxian didn’t even want to think of it.

So, really, it was only fair that Nie Huaisang, who had whether intentionally or incidentally saved so many of them these past few years, finally, finally get what he’d been dreaming of all these years: his brother’s return.

It was only fair that he be allowed to return to being happy.

And yet, at the same time –

“You need to go talk to him,” Jiang Cheng said. His arms would be crossed in front of his chest if he wasn’t currently holding a sleeping Jin Ling, who’d had something of a fright upon meeting the new and improved Nie Huaisang. The poor kid had been convinced that his habitually bitter and vicious Second Uncle Nie was possessed by some sort of fierce but bizarrely friendly ghost. “There’s a war on, for fuck’s sake. He can’t spend all his time haunting the Unclean Realm trying to pretend that he’s something he’s not in order to keep his brother from finding out that he’s changed!”

“It’s not as bad as all that,” Wei Wuxian objected. “I mean, Nie Huaisang’s always run most of the war through correspondence, anyway, and it’s not like we’re totally helpless without him to boss us around.”

“His absence hasn’t been noted by our enemies just yet,” Wen Ning murmured. His arms were similarly full with Wen Yuan – a little older than his friends, steadier and more mature, but a sympathetic crier, and spending a month of his childhood in the Burial Mounds made him more susceptible to fears of possession, not less, so he’d been set off by Jin Ling. And seeing them both in tears had, of course, made poor level-headed Jin Rusong, who didn’t cry easily at all, panic and try to help in a way that only made it worse; Xiao Xingchen had swept him away to the kitchen, and the two of them were currently making snacks for the other two when they woke up. “But it will be, soon. They are already puzzled by the change in tactics.”

Wen Ning’s voice was as soft as ever, his stutter subdued only by the fact that he was with company he liked, but his tone brooked no argument – he’d changed a lot since their youth, too, and knew more intimately than most how some things could not be undone.

The Jin sect, not content with merely killing him, had dubbed his resurrected self ‘the Ghost General’ in an attempt to incite the cultivation world into hating and fearing him. It had been a lie back then, when he’d been doing nothing more than planting radish seeds and babysitting, but now Wen Ning was a general in truth, the leader of their archers and one of Nie Huaisang’s right hands. He was still shy, still didn’t speak fluently and probably never would, but Nie Huaisang had assigned him several capable deputies who understood him even when he had to resort to the type of hand-signs used by the deaf or in covert situations. He was surprisingly popular with the cultivators on their side of the war, although Wei Wuxian acknowledged that perhaps his popularity shouldn’t be that much of a surprise: there was a certain morale-boosting effect in seeing your general continuing to fight even after being struck with enough arrows to create a porcupine.

“Being puzzled by a change in tactics is fairly run of the mill for any enemy facing Nie Huaisang,” Wei Wuxian pointed out.

“Which is why they haven’t noticed it yet, Wei-gongzi. But eventually…”

Wei Wuxian grimaced. “Is it really that dire?”

“Not yet,” Lan Wangji said ominously, and – fine. If even Lan Wangji thought that someone should talk to Nie Huaisang, Wei Wuxian would go and talk to him.

After all, they were old friends of long acquaintance.

Very long, even.

“I come bearing terms of peace,” Wei Wuxian announced, walking into Nie Huaisang’s study and waving a few jars of wine at him. “Come negotiate with me, Nie-xiong!”

“I don’t recall giving you permission to barge into my room,” Nie Huaisang said without looking up from his correspondence, a little flash of the vicious Pallbearer they’d all grown painfully accustomed to – he had his family’s temper but a cooler head, with rage that burned low and long rather than flaring up hot and burning out.

Wei Wuxian reflected once more on how apt Nie Huaisang’s personal title was. The foolish thought that it referred to the filial piety he showed in mourning the brother that raised him since childhood, the somewhat wiser to the way the attack on Nie Mingjue had forced Nie Huaisang to find the virtue he had previously lacked, but the really smart ones knew that the most accurate interpretation was that those that Nie Huaisang chose to accompany to their end would ultimately find themselves without any path forward but death.

Nie Huaisang’s cultivation was still nothing special, his ability to fight virtually non-existent beyond the most basic of saber forms – a saber he now carried with him often enough, but still almost never used – and he’d rejected Wei Wuxian’s very innovative idea (if he did say so himself) that he try to train with a war fan, both on the basis of it being both too much effort and furthermore thoroughly lacking in aesthetic. As a result, he had no particularly notable talents, and none that could allow him to triumph in a night-hunt or a duel.

It didn’t make him any less terrifying.

“You’ll forgive me,” Wei Wuxian said flippantly, and sat down next to him, looking at the words that filled the page with Nie Huaisang’s lovely, artistic calligraphy. “More spy stuff?”

Nie Huaisang’s lips curled up into a small smirk. “Naturally. The network never sleeps, as you well know. I assume you’ve been sent to scold me about the war?”

“Amazing,” Wei Wuxian said, and nudged him in the side with his elbow. “It’s almost like you have a brain in your head or something. Since you’ve guessed it, I don’t even know what more I need to say…how’s Chifeng-zun doing?”

That got Nie Huaisang’s face to soften, as he’d hoped it would. “Much better. He’s been sleeping and waking consistently, and the mobility exercises are working well, though of course he’s insisting on trying more than he can manage. He only just managed to walk across the room without stumbling yesterday, had to sit down right away after, and he’s already asking about saber training.”

That was very in character for Nie Mingjue.

“I’m glad,” Wei Wuxian said, meaning it with all his heart. “I missed da-ge.”

He owed him so much, after all.

So much more than most people knew.

It had been Nie Mingjue who had found him all those years ago, in the dark days when his parents had died in a night-hunt gone wrong and the money they’d left with the innkeeper turning out to be insufficient to keep him housed or fed for more than a fortnight. Wei Wuxian had been a spoiled, beloved child – even if his parents were rogue cultivators, his father originally a servant, they were famous; there wasn’t a town that didn’t welcome them with open arms. They had never lacked for money, for warmth and comfort.

Wei Wuxian might have had a chance if they’d died in the spring or summer. He might have been able to learn to sleep on the streets during warm nights and used those rich fat months to learn from all the other beggars how to eat refuse, but his parents had died in the winter. Even the beggars chased him away, unwilling to spare the smallest scrap of food or lose any bit of warmth by sharing the spots they had found to shelter from the cold; and when he went to the richer districts that had once greeted his parents with such enthusiasm, wild dogs were sent to chase him away, vicious and merciless…within a week, he had been very nearly dead.

Luckily, when hiring rogue cultivators turned out to be insufficient to deal with the problem, the miserly local landlord that had sent out the notice in the first place had finally given in and written to a Great Sect, begging for aid – as a rich man, he was obligated to contribute to the costs of a requested night-hunt, and the Great Sects, while generally more successful, were typically far more mercenary in that regard than rogue cultivators – and Nie Mingjue had come with his Nie sect, the most willing by far to do the work of defeating evil without charging too much for the privilege.

He’d found the bodies of Wei Wuxian’s parents.

Soon after, he’d found Wei Wuxian himself.

Wei Wuxian had been about seven, then. It had been a full two years before Jiang Fengmian had found him on the very same streets, hiding in the trash with a dirty face and a sad and miserable expression, ready to be picked up and taken home by his father’s old friend, the Sect Leader of Yunmeng Jiang.

Just as anyone might’ve predicted.

After all, Nie Mingjue had never stinted on sending out spies, even if he never used them.

(He’d released Wei Wuxian of all those old obligations long ago – but Nie Huaisang never had.)

“Da-ge passes along his thanks, by the way,” Nie Huaisang said. “He thinks the array you created to help preserve his life is brilliant.”

“It is brilliant,” Wei Wuxian said, shameless as always. Getting a truly vicious scolding from his little master Nie Huaisang about exactly how close to the line his arrogance had brought him and the Wen sect had humbled him a bit, and the disaster of the Stygian Tiger Seal nearly going out of his control at the Nightless City not long thereafter had humbled him still more, but in the end he was still Wei Wuxian. He was awesome. “Could anyone else have done what I did?”

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes.

“He’s not angry at me for misusing Baxia?” Wei Wuxian asked, fishing for confirmation. If there was one thing that his two years in the Nie sect had taught him, it was a near-pathological revulsion at the thought of touching another person’s spiritual weapon – he’d been very nearly more excited to be allowed to put his hand on an unsheathed Bichen than Lan Wangji’s dick, although not quite – and Nie Mingjue was quite justifiably more paranoid than most on the subject.

Even that treacherous dog Jin Guangyao hadn’t dared touch Baxia. The spiritual poison he’d used on Nie Mingjue had been limited to the man himself, and that had been what gave Wei Wuxian the idea for the array he’d invented. Nie Mingjue cultivated with Baxia as his primary, if not only, spiritual weapon, and the disciples of the Nie sect were closer to their sabers than most – and by the end of the Sunshot Campaign, Baxia was a fearsome entity in her own right, possessed of her own spiritual energy.

And as he’d always said, energy was meant to be used.

There was something about the Nie sect’s cultivation style that reminded Wei Wuxian of his innovations in demonic cultivation, although it wasn’t quite the same. They didn’t manipulate resentful energy directly the way he did, but they still made use of it, refining their blades with it until the sabers were very nearly guai, cultivating saber spirits filled with a lust for blood – although the strict disciplines of the Nie sect cultivation path meant that every saber spirit that Wei Wuxian had ever had the fortune (or misfortune) to personally encounter just as absolutist in their disdain for evil as their masters.

Even Nie Huaisang’s saber Aituan was like that, and maybe that should have been Wei Wuxian’s first hint that Nie Huaisang wasn’t as simple as he appeared on the surface.

“It’s fine,” Nie Huaisang assured him. “Really. Da-ge said it was – how’d he put it – a charming contradiction, that his saber get used to cultivating energy for him rather than him for the saber. Though maybe he was just relieved that she was intact, given everything.”

Wei Wuxian grinned and toasted Nie Huaisang, drinking a little of the wine while Nie Huaisang continued with his correspondence.

They sat in comfortable silence for a little while.

“I’m not pretending,” Nie Huaisang said abruptly, and Wei Wuxian, who’d drifted off into daydreams involving him, Lan Wangji, and a very sturdy bathtub, turned to look at him. “I know what Jiang Cheng thinks –”

“Of course you do. I tell you what Jiang Cheng thinks.”

“Shut up, you – you calamity. I don’t need you to tell me what Jiang Cheng thinks, he tells me himself more often than not. He thinks that I’m pretending to be useless because I don’t want da-ge to know about everything I’ve done, but that’s not the case at all. He knows. I wouldn’t keep it from him.”

“I know,” Wei Wuxian said, because he did. Even at his most lazy and self-indulgent, Nie Huaisang abhorred the thought of lying to his brother. “But you are spending too much of your time in the Unclean Realm. We need you back in the field.”

Nie Huaisang scowled. “The cream of the cultivation world,” he said disdainfully. “Can’t they do anything by themselves, just for a few short months? You’d think my brother fought the entirety of the Sunshot Campaign by himself with how little they seem to contribute.”

“Personally, I think that everyone has just taken the Nie sect as lucky cats, and are afraid to do without you,” Wei Wuxian said, batting his eyelashes at him in his most provoking show of earnestness. “Nie-xiong, if I rub your head, does that mean I’ll win my next battle…?”

“Don’t you dare,” Nie Huaisang said, but the scowl receded and he looked amused again. “I can’t wait to send da-ge out on the battlefield again.”

“The Jin sect will trample each other in their eagerness to get off the battlefield rather than face Chifeng-zun,” Wei Wuxian agreed, and couldn’t help his own smile at the thought. “The rumors that he’s returned have already started spreading like wildfire, but you’ve done well to hide him away so thoroughly. It means no one knows if the rumors are right or if you’re just pulling some kind of trick on the world.”

“Who, me? A trick?” Nie Huaisang said, and smiled thinly. “I only wish I could’ve seen the look on that treacherous dog’s face when his spies reported on my unusual behavior. I hope he’s afraid.”

Wei Wuxian agreed.

He had tried many times to imagine doing what Jin Guangyao had done. To turn your hand against the man to whom you had sworn to love as a brother –

He couldn’t even imagine hurting Jiang Cheng like that, and Jiang Yanli even less.

Wei Wuxian owed Nie Mingjue his life. He had sworn fealty to him with all the passion and singlemindedness of childhood, and had never once regretted it. Nie Mingjue had taken him off the streets and brought him back to his sect, he’d taken back his parents’ bodies and buried them with full (if private) honors, he’d given Wei Wuxian training to make him strong and smart and capable. He’d sent him to do work in a place where he would prosper and thrive and be happy, and all the while promised that he would never be trapped – that he would have a way out if the Jiang sect became too suffocating or he was treated too viciously, on one hand, and on the other told him that he could one day petition to be released from his obligations to the Nie sect if he ever found them too demanding.

Wei Wuxian had asked to be released from those obligations after the fall of the Lotus Pier, unable to stomach the idea of reporting on Jiang Cheng now that he was all alone in the world in the way that he had so effortlessly reported on Jiang Fengmian and Madame Yu. Nie Mingjue had granted the reprieve without a second’s hesitation, even though it meant wasting the years and years of investment they’d put into him, even though it would have been a critical moment to have an ear within the Jiang sect’s camp.

Wei Wuxian owed Nie Mingjue everything.

And yet – if the man had asked him to kill Jiang Cheng, he would have said no.

Twin heroes, he’d promised Jiang Cheng, and if for a while he’d thought he would have to give up that promise because of the secret of the golden core that he still kept hidden away, he refused to think it any longer. Jiang Cheng was his brother in all but blood, in all the ways that mattered. Wei Wuxian would stand aside from him if he thought he had to, as he had with the Wen sect remnants; he would keep secrets from him, he would even deceive him, but he would never willingly seek to hurt him.

Jin Guangyao, though? He had attacked Nie Mingjue without even being asked.

He was like some rabid beast, a white-eyed wolf, Wei Wuxian thought. Utterly beyond his understanding.

He deserved to be afraid.

“Speaking of which,” he said, suddenly remembering. “I think I’ve figured out why Jin Guangyao was willing to kill his own heir to further his and his father’s ambitions.”

“About time,” Nie Huaisang said, and while his tone was stern Wei Wuxian was mostly sure that he was teasing. “I put you on that job months ago. What do you think I keep you around for? Your brilliant inventions? Your armies of corpses? Your amazing ability to stun irritating sect leaders into silence with your overwhelming shamelessness regarding Lan Wangji –”

“Let’s not talk about that,” Wei Wuxian said hastily, although the giant grin he couldn’t keep off his face said everything about his shame – or lack thereof – relating to that last one. You get caught doing one little roleplay about the fearsome demonic cultivator Yiling Patriarch being arrested by the righteous cultivator Hanguang-jun and suddenly no one wanted to look you in the eye anymore… “Anyway, according to all the rumors, you keep me around because you want me to raise your brother the way I raised Wen Ning.”

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes. “I’ve heard that one, and I still can’t believe anyone believes it. Da-ge’s a sect leader! Even if you wanted to bring him back, think about the amount of resentment he would have had to feel at his death to rise up again despite all the soul-calming rituals he’s gone through! If he ever became that resentful, he wouldn’t rise up as a ghost general, he’d be a ghost king, and then we’d all be screwed.”

Nie Huaisang wasn’t wrong. Nie Mingjue was one of the most powerful cultivators living – if he rose as a fierce corpse, he’d be able to slaughter an entire village of common people overnight with just the energy in one hand. And if he were then allowed access to Baxia, her power added to his…he’d become a scourge on the world, a true calamity, and they’d need to find a way to appease his anger and somehow lock him away forever just to survive.

Assuming Nie Huaisang allowed something like that, anyway. Wei Wuxian was very happy they had never been forced to face the question of whether Nie Huaisang preferred his brother or his morality, as he suspected no one would like the answer to that. Not even Nie Huaisang.

“Enough speculation,” Nie Huaisang said, and Wei Wuxian twitched guiltily even though he knew Nie Huaisang was not, in fact, a mind-reader. “What’s the story with A-Song?”

“You want the long version with all the proof I found to support it or the conclusion?”

“Start with the conclusion.”

“Jin Guangyao couldn’t risk A-Song growing up into a half-wit on account of being a child of incest.”

That actually surprised Nie Huaisang, Wei Wuxian was pleased to see.

“Incest?” Nie Huaisang said wonderingly. “But how – oh, of course. Jin Guangshan and Madame Qin? An affair or rape?”

“Rape while he was drunk, supposedly, though of course we only have the relevant people’s words for that, and they’re not exactly impartial sources. Could’ve been an affair that had unexpected results, not that anyone would ever admit it.”

Nie Huaisang started laughing.

Wei Wuxian really wished he wouldn’t. It wasn’t the sort of happy giggle that he sometimes let out nowadays when he was thinking of Nie Mingjue’s recovery – it was the jagged vicious bitterness of the Pallbearer, through and through.

“Oh, Qin Su, Qin Su,” Nie Huaisang said, wiping tears from his eyes. “I gave you all the chances in the world, you stupid woman. I hope you’re happy with what you chose.”

“Can I ask?” Wei Wuxian said cautiously. “You never said – you just showed up with A-Song, no Qin Su and no explanation…”

“Says the person who adopted A-Yuan all but sight unseen?”

“I lived with him for a month, it’s different,” Wei Wuxian said. “What happened with Qin Su?”

Nie Huaisang shrugged. “Nothing dramatic. She wouldn’t believe me when I told her that her husband was planning on killing her son to frame his enemies, which is reasonable enough given that everyone knows I’m at odds with him. Even when I offered her proof, she said it was just a forgery – that he wasn’t like that, that she knew him, the real him, that she was the only one who really understood him, even though I’d say the whole cultivation world knows the ‘real’ him by now.”

“Irritating, but understandable, I think – he is her husband, the dashing hero that rescued her so valiantly in the Sunshot Campaign and which she defied custom and her parents to marry. So why all the disdain?”

Nie Huaisang’s lips pressed together tightly with disapproval. “I asked her if she was willing to risk losing A-Song just to show her husband that she trusted him, and she said that she was, because it wasn’t a risk at all. Because she knew he loved her too much to do such a terrible thing without a good reason.”

“Without a good reason?” Wei Wuxian demanded. “That’s her son!”

“Don’t you know that they can always have others?” Nie Huaisang said with a sneer, clearly paraphrasing words he’d heard. “They’re young, in love – it’s all my fault that he stopped touching her, apparently. I took Lan Xichen away from him and he’s so upset about it that he can’t come to her bed, but once the world is rid of me, it’ll all go back to the way it should be…”

“I’ll give her that much: she really loves him,” Wei Wuxian said, shaking his head. The delusions of a person in love, he supposed. He hoped that he and Lan Wangji weren’t quite that bad. “She’ll be in for a disappointment. Given what I found out…he’ll never return to her bed or give her children, not in this lifetime.”

“No, he won’t.” Nie Huaisang reached for his fan. “Thank you for this. I’ll think about how to use it.”

“And?” Wei Wuxian prodded.

“And I’ll come back to the battlefield,” Nie Huaisang conceded, looking discontented, and Wei Wuxian smiled smugly. “You can supervise the Unclean Realm in my place.”

“What? No!” Wei Wuxian protested, his smile disappearing at once. “You have Xiao Xingchen –”

“He’s newly blinded, and out of all the cultivators we have available, you’re the most effective at fighting on a stand-alone basis. Think of it as having some time to bond with your mother’s shidi.”

Wei Wuxian didn’t want time to bond with his martial uncle – or, well, he did, he’d been dying for an opportunity to talk with Xiao Xingchen more or less since the man first made his name known in the cultivation world, but Nie Huaisang’s rules were such that no one outside the most trusted inner circles of the Nie sect was allowed in the familial quarters of the Unclean Realm, or even in the Unclean Realm at all. And that meant…

“But – Lan Wangji –”

“Will not die if he’s forced to be abstinent for a little while,” Nie Huaisang said, and oh, it was on.

“Did Qin Su specify the method by which you took Lan Xichen from her husband?” Wei Wuxian asked, crossing his arms. “I was under the impression that you still referred to him as Zewu-jun –”

Nie Huaisang glared.

Too bad – if the Pallbearer didn’t want to get mocked over his crush on the First Jade of Lan, he shouldn’t have let Wei Wuxian find out about the fact that the torch he held for him was still burning hot as ever.

“Perhaps my information is out of date. Tell me, little master, what means of seduction did you employ to convince Zewu-jun to betray his poor sad little A-Yao? Did you work your wicked wiles on him?”

“Wei Wuxian –”

“Did you play his xiao?”

Nie Huaisang let out an ungentlemanly snort and had to cover his face. “Oh no,” he said. “Oh no. Why did you have to give me that mental image? Fuck you, Wei Wuxian.”

“Yeah, well, fuck you too. Abstinent my ass.”

“I think you’ll find that the problem with abstinence is that it’s not your ass,” Nie Huaisang said, shoulders shaking. “That’s kind of the point. Now go tell everyone that I’ll be rejoining them tomorrow.”

“I will relish their groans of despair,” Wei Wuxian said, standing up. He was clearly going to have to take as much advantage that he could of the little time he had with Lan Wangji before being cruelly locked away. “Oh, is there any news on Song Lan?”

“None,” Nie Huaisang said. “He may as well have ascended into the heavens. Don’t tell Xiao Xingchen, he’ll only worry.”

“I won’t, I won’t. As for you – could you try to lighten up on Zewu-jun? Now that da-ge’s awake again?”

Nie Huaisang frowned.

“I’m not saying forgive him,” Wei Wuxian clarified. “Just – you know that da-ge wouldn’t want you to be so mad at him, especially since you still like him and all.”

“I’ll let da-ge decide that, I think,” Nie Huaisang said, and the humor had fled his face entirely. “It was his assassin that Zewu-jun decided to trust and protect, after all.”

Wei Wuxian nodded, accepting the verdict – he disagreed, but he understood – and turning to leave.

He paused at the door.

“Just so you know,” he said, not looking at Nie Huaisang. “Having trusted Meng Yao doesn’t mean you have to be so mad at yourself, either.”

He left before Nie Huaisnag could respond, but he heard something shatter in the room behind him.

[astraaltiora]

Not for Sale

A/N: A very hearty mix of self-indulgence, crack, modern-universe with canon-parallel lore. A series of fluff, maybe some domesticity along the way. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this crack of a fic that I enjoyed writing.

Summary: With all the clamour and window knocking at early dawn, Heizou should probably start putting up signs in front of his windowsill and the front door. These potted plants--no matter their pretty exterior and well tendered soil, leaves and petals--are not for sale.

"'Zou-niichan! Zouzou-niichan!"

The affectionate nickname was accompanied by small pebbles being thrown at his window. It was most likely too early for anyone in the Police Station to wake up, but this particular 'alarm' was what Shikanoin Heizou would wake up to.

Heizou had lived in the Portside City of Ritou for as long as he could remember. The Ritou, in olden times, used to be filled with maple leaves during autumn, bustling merchants, noise and calls from fishermen and their crew on their fishing boats. It was a clamour of business in the simple days, but now--as Heizou's old man would say--times have changed and Ritou was no longer a port only for the merchants to dwell in. It had fully transformed into a city itself.

Annoyingly adorable foreign neighbours, included.

"Zou-niichan! Wake up! I want a flower today!"

A calmer and softer toned voice echoed soon after the 'request' was made. Some shuffling was made and a whine came next.

"Albedo-niichan, Zou-niichan would always give me new flowers to bring with me! Let's wait just a second longer, please?"

The two siblings came from Mondstadt, a jewel of a city in the middle of a Sweet Cider Lake. It was supposed to be continent somewhere above Inazuma, 'with lots and lots and lots of fish to bomb!', or so the sweet like elven-child had told him in one of his babysitting instances for her Alchemist brother would say. The two were neighbours to him for over a year, and he know Albedo to be a special guest of the Kanjou Commission and the Yashiro Commission. The alchemist was tasked to conduct his studies over biochemical lifeforms and the different effects each would develop, considering the different ley lines in Teyvat. His study was supposedly important to keeping the ley lines 'normal' and to avoid any convergent anomalies to develop over time, or so Heizou would assume (correctly and accurately).

When another pebble hits his window, accompanied by an echoing whine, Heizou sat up from his side of the bed and yawned. He stretched his arms up and over his head and dusted the crumbs of late night snacking and overtime off his folded Tenryou Commissioned shirt. He lazily picked a blue and white open-faced flower from vine of a potted plant that hung from the ceiling of his room, and then made his way to the window that was being massacred by small pebbles.

"Good morning, Klee. You seem to be in a hurry." He said and leaned his arms over the window pane.

He casted Albedo a small smile and waved the Kalaptus Lotus to him and his little sister in his hand. Klee visibly brightened and detached herself from his brother's hold and zoomed towards the window, where Heizou was perched with the blue and white lotus in his hand. She pets the other flowers and plants the surrounded and crowded the window's outside and reached up to get the flower from Heizou.

"What's it called, Zou-niichan?" She asked and marvelled at the well-cared for plan in her hands. "Its pretty like Albedo-niichan's isotoma!"

Albedo hummed softly and noted the features of the flower in her hands. He doesn't say much but lifted Klee up to seat her over the window pane, right in between Heizou's arms. She looked up at Heizou with the same bright sun-like smile and offered it to him.

"Is Kazuha-niichan here too?" Klee asked and tilted her head to look over Heizou. "Is he back from Fontaine yet?"

Heizou smiled and took the Kalaptus Lotus from her hands and re-tied her hair to display the lotus over her braids, tucked neatly in place. "He would be back before you know it."

"I'm sure the flowers will sell better, if Kazuha-niichan is here." Klee agreed and gave Heizou a soft pat on the cheek. "Thank you Zou-niichan."

If. Wait--

Heizou pinched Klee's cheek with a slight smirk over his face. He tuts at her and clicks his tongue, a finger wagged before the small child's face as he reminded her (previously, continuously, consistently) that--"These plants are not for sale!"

She giggled and stood up on the windowsill and gave Heizou a hug. "They should be! I'll go now, Zouzou-niichan! Hopefully Kazuha-niichan comes home soon! The plants are lonely without him!"

She jumped into Albedo's arms and went on her way. She waved widely at the dumbfounded and grumbling detective. Klee was the only child in the Ritou area and Heizou babied her for it. Much to Albedo's nonchalance and the rest of the neighbouring diplomats and foreigners living in the area (as delegated by the Tri-Commission), Klee was the only other being in the seaside village that actually brought a smile to Heizou's face.

With the exception of Kaedehara Kazuha, his currently absent roommate, whose wanderlust is much greater than anything to make him stay in Inazuma.

He sighed and looked over the potted plants around. There those set on the windowsill, the ones that were too big and had to be planted outside the house, while there were also others that hung on the ceiling by their vines, and those that crawled up on the side of the wall--they were all plants that Kazuha had brought back to his flat as a souvenir from the places he's visited. Which Kazuha had told Heizou to 'take care of them', while he was away. Heizou did not want to plant-sit, he had better things to do than till soil and water these unmoving creatures... but... What would Kazuha think, if these plants start to say that they were lonely without their real owner?

Not that they could talk.

...

They are not lonely too! Heizou argued in his head. I take care of these plants just fine!

He clicked his tongue and removed the used shirt he had on and discarded the same to the laundry basket that was brimming with dirty clothes (that he really should take care of, too, but the plants took precedence). He takes a spray bottle of clean water and started his day watering and talking (yes, Kazuha reminded him that these plants should be talked to, because they understand human feelings "and would grow better if they are read poetry too!") to the plants and told them about how annoying Uesugi had been, since his promotion, and how hardheaded Asakura had been, when he wanted to train until the wee hours of the day just to prove that he was every bit as strong as the next Yoiriki and Hatamoto.

Kazuha told him to talk to the plants, as if these inanimate things could ever take his place.

"Why ever would he think a speechless little maple shrub would take his place, I wonder." Heizou rolled his eyes and sprayed the small acer palmatum by his night stand with copious amount of water.

He stared at the red leaves, the beautifully shaped edges, and the softness that run over its pristine burgundy veins.

"Do not look at me like that. I'm just saying... I would rather have the real thing, you know." Heizou stared at the shrub with accusing eyes and sighed. "You have always been his favourite. Maybe I should take you to the window--some sunlight may do you well."

The acer palmatum only waved by the small breeze it took on the windowsill, as if a small unsaid gratitude was delivered to its keeper.

"Yeah, yeah. Tell him, when he gets home."

---

The Station was always filled characters and personas that Heizou could find some level of interest in, however... lately, they have been extremely annoying as of late. Especially, when they always ask about a certain wanderlust stricken roommate of his. Even though Heizou exuded an aura that told the world and anyone that breathed in it that he does not, in fact, want to talk about it.

"How long has he been gone now, Shikanoin, about a month?" Uesugi asked, his fingers rubbed his chin and his eyes stared at the wide Station-used calendar. "Where did he go to now?"

"Sumeru." He answered curtly and kept his head ducked down to the desk of opened case files (that he's already finished up on) and pretended to be busy. Hopefully, the newly promoted officer would get the drift and leave him be.

He did not get the drift and proceeded to bother him.

Uesugi took the seat at the front of his desk and continued to muse about the whereabouts of the wanderer roommate of his. Uesgui had concluded on several hypotheses that Kazuha may have that 'sweet, innocent, nonthreatening look' but--according to the newly promoted officer--Heizou has to watch where Kazuha's going, since people like him attracts everyone to his 'yard'--whatever that means.

"Kaedehara-done is a catch! You know this! He's from a prestigious family! He's sweet, kind, gentlemanly and all that! I truly wonder if the story about him from his past was true, but even then you have to admit some darkness is sexy!"

Heizou's brows furrowed together. His head shook away the oncoming indecently proposed thoughts and word used to describe his roommate and passive-income source. He did not want to think of Kazuha being anything but 'sweet' and 'innocent', but Uesugi made a fair point. After all, he had thought of going for the said roommate once or twice, before, but he had his heart back out at the last second, as he always found it dropped to the floor without warning.

"He is a roommate, Uesugi. He pays me extra to take care of the nursery of plants he takes home, that is all I know of him." He clarified.

It was a lie. Of course, it was a lie. No one in the Station would understand. No one would consider it believable, if Doushin Shikanoin declared that he was easily dumbfounded and rendered speechless by the said plant-hugging roommate of his. No one. No one in the Station would imagine that their surprisingly volatile, charming, headstrong, and unapologetic junior (senior) would be one to gawk at someone he truly thought to be breathtaking.

Perhaps, that was the purpose of the word. Breathtaking.

Heizou never really figured the reason for words to be so accurate in description, and he wouldn't have been so interested... had Kazuha not knocked on his bedroom and asked for a word to fit a haiku he was composing one night. In Heizou's defense, what was the difference between 'fizzy' and 'effervescent'--they mean absolutely the same thing! But Kazuha had to be exact with words, he gave words meaning and it was never just because they meant one thing or another. Heizou forgot whatever Kazuha said after, all he remembered then... was that he never felt so inadequate in his life, all because he couldn't find the right word for a simple 'haiku' and ended up being laughed at by his (then, new) roommate.

"You take care of the plants, Shikanoin?" Yoriki Owada asked with a raised brow and an obvious smirk over his lips. "Why I never took you as one with a green thumb."

Heizou simply casted him a look that reminded Owada 'who' was truly responsible for his title and position in the Station. "It's added income. My poor Doushin salary is not enough, I tell you."

"And playing gardener to a 'Young Master' surely pays well, doesn't it?" Owada snickered and gets a pencil thrown to his forehead with force that made him thankful Shikanoin Doushin used the blunt end.

Uesugi stared at the exchange and wondered what could it have been that Yoriki Owada said to have Doushin Shikanoin sent a flying projectile lethally aimed to his forehead. Far as he knew, all Yoriki Owada said were factual circumstances. Doushin Shikanoin was, indeed, caring for 'Young Master Kaedehara''s plants, what was there to be so annoyed about?

Heizou huffed and took his case files with him to get out of the suddenly 'stuffy' and 'nosy' Station. As it seems, Police work is less peace and order, but nose-into-Doushin-Shikanoin's business today. He doesn't say a word to his superior and simply up and left without a word or a passing glance. They were all in their positions because of him, after all. The least they could do was to give him his timely leaves, whenever he gets the urge to punch someone in the face.

---

When Heizou got back from the Station, he was earlier than usual. He found a crowd of women and small children back his apartment's window and immediately knew what they were gawking about.

Not a lot of plants grew in Inazuma. There were little to no floral that reap its beauty in the Electro-infused air of land of eternity. Save from the bloody Dendrobrium, there were no flowers that grew their island. Hence, the sight of several flowers from many different nations--from the bright and blossoming Sumeru Rose, the captivating Glaze Lilies, and the Kalpatus Lotuses that hung overheard--it was only natural that women and children would be attractmed to his apartment.

It was a security hazard and a hassle, but what he could never tell his dear roommate that. Nope. He would just have to take this consequence have the daily routine of saying:

"They are not for sale, ladies and kiddies. Apologies." Heizou called out as he was about to enter the apartment. Before he could hear them groan, whine, and unsolicitedly give a price, he made his stand--"They're given to me by my dearest friend, they are priceless, so move on along."

"Dearest friend?"

Heizou's head nearly snapped at how fast it turned towards the long gone and familiar voice. 'Kazuha?!'

Kazuha was tending to the soil of the batch of Cecilias that he planted there, he was watched and helped by the small group of children gathered around him--the women that surrounded them were most likely the children's mothers or older sisters. They all seemed in awe at someone doing something so mundane and ordinary, Heizou would have shooed them all away, but he could understand. It was Kazuha they watched, everything the young runaway noble did seemed like poetry. Even pushing at soil and watering plants.

"These white petals sing. In sunset and moonlight glow. Dear friend I am home." Kazuha said in his poetic stance, he gazed up at Heizou, a calm and sweet smile over his feature.

Heizou could feel an urge inside him to pull his 'dearest' friend into a hug. Kazuha had left for eight weeks and three days (he was not counting, he was just good with telling time and the days, when Kazuha was not around) and neither a note or message was sent his way. One would think it would have been possible to at least give him 'how are you' or 'are my plants doing well?' over the time, but Kazuha was as free-spirited as any wanderer. A persona of his that Heizou detested... and respected. He could understand the wanderlust that Kazuha cradled so dearly in his heart; he understood it well, since he's heard the life of the runaway noble was a free as bird in a tiny cage. To someone deprived of adventure, freedom, and the call of foreign winds, it was obvious that Kazuha would relish all that he could, now that he is free to do so.

"What are you smiling at me for, Kaedehara." Heizou said with a tone of annoyance, but the smile on his face was a tell he could never hide. "Get inside, before I drag you inside."

Kazuha lets out a breathy laugh and hummed. "Is that an order, Doushin Shikanoin?"

"Do not make me use handcuffs." He warned and entered the apartment, his heart drummed faster than he could ever think it could.

He turned to the direction of the children that crowded him and gave them a playful shrug. "I should go. I do not want to get in trouble with my dearest friend, he is a police officer, after all."

The whines of children couldn't deter him, he wanted to get inside his small shared home too. Kazuha has a love for travel and the discovery of sights yet to be known, but this love for others is not all for the destinations yet travelled. He gets homesick, too, as much as he is silently and begrudgingly missed.

"Kazuha!" A voice cut from the outside and shied by their front door sounded. "Man alive! You haven't been here for a second and you're already making me pull on my hair!"

It was Kazuha's cue to stand up and shoo the children away. He goes inside the flat to face the fiery tone and landlord of his room and the gardener of his previous nursery of foreign roots and saplings.

The inside of the flat was still the same, though a lot has changed since the first time Kazuha had moved in. There used to be rules and lines--actual red marked up lines around the flat--that Kazuha had to follow to ensure his continued stay. However, now, Heizou had crossed over boundaries. Heizou used the same side of the fridge and he would use the same pots and pans to cook them a meal. They shared things, mostly everything in the house. It has been a glaring difference now, but Kazuha would not say much else.

He sat by their dining table and waited for Heizou to cook his famous leftover deep fried food for himself, while makes Kazuha something fresh because Kazuha would not want something so haphazardly thrown together to eat. Heizou made a note of this and he would not forget.

They have are not together. They simply live in the same roof. Water the same plants. Eat the same food. At times, Heizou would be furious at Kazuha for leaving him with nurseries of plants to nurture and care for, while he left for another excursion. But... Heizou wouldn't say that he was thankful for it.

"Our house was a lot quieter without you." Heizou sets the plate of freshly cooked fish before Kazuha a light flush over his cheeks was seen. "Don't leave me that long again, or else the plants will get it."

"I think that's a crime to threaten a living thing's very life in exchange for any act to be done." Kazuha laughed and placed a hand over Heizou's. "I would not leave our place anytime soon, my dearest Doushin."

"... I knew the plants would make you consider." Heizou said with huff and glanced at the hand over his. "I... I took care of them, I'm sure you'd hear about it from these plants."

"I'm sure you did." He held onto Heizou's hand and made no move to let it go that Heizou decided to move his plate and food beside him. Kazuha grinned softly and ate with his left hand, while Heizou ate with his right—their hand holding under the table like a secret that nobody knows.

Save for the plants that were there.

No one would know.

[stiltonbasket]

For the renouncement verse I’d love to see a continuation of the one with Xichen and Lan Qiren, with pregnant-with-a-girl wwx being gently coerced to be lazy for once in his life by, apparently, the entire lan clan

(author’s note: double prompt this time! and please please reblog if you can, since that’s how we get prompts for future chapters!)

Anon 2: helloooo for the renouncement verse, do you have anything during wei ying's pregnancy, like lwj fretting over wwx bc i feel that wwx would still do crazy experiments even whille he's pregnant?

__

Wei Wuxian is not particularly good at sitting still.

In fact, everyone who knew him at Lotus Pier when he was a child—and everyone he met at the Cloud Recesses, too—knows that he prefers scaling little cliffs and swimming and climbing trees to resting, even under a physician’s orders; and that never really changed until the last four years of his first life, which were riddled with barely-hidden illness after the loss of his golden core.

But his resurrection returned him to full health, and full strength, so that even the strange fits of nausea that began soon after his wedding (which Wei Wuxian naturally blamed on the bland cuisine of his married home) turned out to be a baby instead of some weird kind of mountain plague. Lan Zhan hasn’t been worrying any less since they found out about the little one, of course—if anything, he seems to be worrying more—but the point is that Wei Wuxian is well into his fourth month, which means that his sensitive stomach is back to normal again, along with his dislike for staying in bed.

And since Wei Wuxian is only with child instead of actually sick, why would he stay in bed when he could be up and causing trouble? He wouldn’t, and he won’t, which is why he cheerfully disregards all of Lan Xichen’s warnings about rest and spends the fifth day after the healers give them the news experimenting in the jishi.

With fire talismans.

And smokescreens.

And a great many other things that horrify Lan Zhan past the point of speech when he comes crashing into the workshop, and get Wei Wuxian bundled right back into bed with Xiao-Yu keeping watch to ensure that he remains there.

(He also set the jishi’s chimney on fire, which was probably why his husband broke the door down instead of lifting the locking talisman, now that he thinks about it.)

“You cannot take such risks,” Lan Zhan says hoarsely, cradling Wei Wuxian’s flushed face in his hands and pressing their brows together. “Wei Ying, xingan, anything could have happened if you had breathed in the smoke, or if you grew lightheaded while the door was locked, you—my darling, please, please leave such dangerous things for after the baby is born. It is not safe for either of you.”

“It was only a little fire,” Wei Wuxian protests, before Lan Zhan leans in and presses a fervent kiss to his lips. “And I had purification talismans in the room to keep the air clean, anyway. I’m fine.”

“Suppose they had failed?” his husband counters, tracing the curve of his cheek with a finger that shakes so much that Wei Wuxian nearly bursts into tears at the sight of it. “Suppose the fire spread from the hearth, and you could not put it out in time? What would I have done then, Wei Ying, with my heart’s beloved and my child in danger?”

“Well, I suppose...”

“No more experiments,” Lan Zhan tells him. “At least none that you cannot safely perform in the jingshi with Xiao-Yu and myself close by. Please, sweetheart.”

Wei Wuxian promises to stay out of his workroom, since he still hasn’t quite worked out how to say no to Lan Zhan yet; but he does refuse to keep off his feet, because that suggestion comes from Lan Xichen instead of Lan Zhan.

“Find something safe for me to do, then!” he complains. “I’m not an invalid, Xichen-ge! In fact, I feel stronger than ever. I’m going to go swimming tomorrow, just wait—”

“You will do no such thing!” Lan Xichen cries, horrified. “Suppose you catch cold? It is nearly winter, a fever of the lungs this late in the year could kill you!”

And then he tells Lan Zhan, the traitor, and gets Wei Wuxian banned from entering any body of water except for Zewu-jun’s hot spring until the baby arrives. He isn’t even supposed to bathe there without supervision, because the warm water might make him dizzy enough to drown without someone there to watch him even if it does wash the tension out of his back and shoulders.

Even Lan Qiren seems to be determined to keep both Wei Wuxian and the little one in the best of health, which he discovers when he stalks over to his uncle-in-law’s house in the sixth month to tell him that Lan Zhan and Lan Xichen are being tyrants.

“I’m not allowed to mess around in the jishi anymore,” Wei Wuxian grouses, counting on his fingers as Lan Qiren sighs and fills up his plate with braised pork and plenty of healthy greens, seasoned strongly enough that even Wei Wuxian wouldn’t mind eating a full serving of them. “I’m not allowed to go swimming—” and here Lan Qiren pours him a cup of sweet soymilk and pushes the dish of warm potatoes closer to Wei Wuxian’s side of the table— “and I can’t even teach anymore, since I lost my balance and sprained my wrist in the lanshi just one time!”

“You are heavier than you used to be,” the older man observes. “If you had not caught yourself in time, the fall could have seriously hurt you, let alone the baby.”

Wei Wuxian lays his head down on the table—as well as he can, that is, with the baby in the way—and groans. “I know,” he says, aggrieved. “It’s not that I want to put us in danger, but I’m so bored, and I have to be useful somehow.”

Lan Qiren freezes with a cup of tea halfway to his lips. “Useful?”

“I’m the Chief Cultivator’s husband, xiansheng. I can’t just sit around doing nothing,” Wei Wuxian huffs. “If I can’t work on my talismans, and I can’t teach, and Zewu-jun won’t let me do any of the sect work because he’s afraid I’ll get tired, what can I do?”

The teacup thumps back onto the table with a sharp clattering sound. “Wei Ying. Nephew, that is enough. I will hear no more of this.”

Wei Wuxian lifts his head in surprise. “Ah?”

“You are not here to be useful,” Lan Qiren says severely. “We are your family, and this is your home, and you may do whatever you please in it. Have you been so poorly treated here that you must sit here before me, scarcely three months from your confinement, and fret about doing nothing when you ought to be resting and preparing for the child’s arrival? Because I will have words with Wangji if so, make no mistake, and—”

“Lan-xiansheng, no!” Wei Wuxian cries. “That’s not what I mean, it’s just…”

He has the rest of the denial on the tip of his tongue, but a tear rolls down his nose and plops onto the steaming lotus roots before he can say anything. 

It hardly makes sense to him at first, because he truly does love tinkering with spells and talismans in his workshop, making cultivation as accessible to people without golden cores as he can, and he loves teaching the baby disciples and going on night-hunts with his own faithful little flock of juniors; but his body has made its exhaustion very clear in the past several weeks, and sometimes all he wants to do is curl up in Lan Zhan’s arms and sleep the day away with his childrens’ voices keeping him company from the next room. 

And Lan Zhan wants him to rest and let him dote on him more than anything, so why does Wei Wuxian keep fighting it?

“It’s not his fault,” he murmurs, dimly aware that the plate of hot-and-sour potatoes looks suspiciously damp. “It’s just… me, I guess.”

“Eat your food,” Lan Qiren tells him, sounding suspiciously gentle as he puts a sweet bean cake into Wei Wuxian’s bowl. “And make sure you finish your tea, I put strengthening herbs in it.”

__

His uncle-in-law comes back to the jingshi with him after lunch, along with Lan Xichen, and the three of them have a very long talk with Lan Zhan while Sizhui and Jingyi babysit Xiao-Yu; Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren offer him and Lan Zhan advice, and Lan Zhan pulls Wei Wuxian into his lap and comforts him without bothering about the impropriety of it, until he can finally nod off to sleep when the two of them are alone again. 

“I’m really not a bother to you, Lan Zhan?” he whispers, tucking his face against his husband’s chest and listening to his heartbeat. “You don’t—mind, that I can’t do very much with this baby?”

“No, never,” Lan Zhan chokes. “Wei Ying, why didn’t you just tell me you were feeling this way? You cannot imagine how much I want—how I need—”

“Need what?”

“Let me look after you, sweetheart,” his husband pleads. “Let me look after you both. Give me the privilege of satisfying my beloved’s every wish, and soothing your fears when your heart is heavy, and keeping you and our little one well. Please, xingan?”

(Upon further reflection, perhaps it is a good thing that he never learned to say no to Lan Zhan, after all.)

[ashdoesfandomarchieved]

Prompt, Angst, The titan gets badly damaged and a lot of the crew are dead or injured, mariner goes AWOL from the cerritos to find out if boimler is okay and there's a scene with boimler unconscious on a biobed and Mariner is like "you have to live so I can feed you to an armus for leaving the cerritos!"

A/N: you sent this prompt ages ago, but the words just wouldn't happen lmao. So six months late and a few thousand words short, here you go:

ao3

Okay, so here’s the thing.

Beckett keeps files on everyone. Not physical files of course--too insecure and hackable (she should know). But a mental file. Still hackable if she runs into a telepath, but still slightly more secure from the rest of her coworkers.

It’s not as if they’re particularly like. Creepy files. She isn’t snooping into anyone’s actual physical file onboard or obtaining any info illegally. She just observes things and passively marks them for later. Tendi likes peanut-butter sandwiches. Janice gets her neck tattoos re-inked every few months. Captain Mom has a stick up her ass. That kind of thing.

It’s a fine tuned compartmentalization that’s useful in a variety of situations, whether it’s knowing what to say in a social situation or who to trust during a red alert (tip: always go with Rutherford, he’s anxious but the least likely to betray you and throw you out of an airlock. Bonus: he’s the most likely crew member on this trashcan to actually have a working idea).

Some mental files are incredibly detailed. For instance, the one on her mom is about as thick as a handbound copy of War & Peace and just as boring. Everything from her favorite flavor of ice cream to her first response to an emergency situation is in there-incredibly accurate and incredibly detailed. She’s sure her mom has a similar mental file on her as well, but resolutely does Not think about it.

Some mental files are almost empty. Ensign Gent’s toothbrush is pink. First Officer Ransom has nice abs I guess. That dude who’s name I can’t remember opened his third eye and ascended into the afterlife or something I wasn’t actually there Tendi told me and I was on my fourth drink.

And then some are medium sized but entirely unremarkable.

Like Bradward Boimler’s, for instance.

Loves classic rock. Dyes his hair purple. Stickler for rules. Needs to loosen up a bit. A lot. Probably needs to get laid. Definitely needs to get laid.

That’s it, that’s the entire file. Beckett doesn’t really concern herself with whatever’s going on with Boimler beyond the occasional ribbing or co-assignment. It’s not because she doesn’t like the dork. She would tentatively (but never to his face) call him her friend if cornered. And she enjoyed riling him up.

She updates the file about a year (almost two) into her acquaintance with him. FUCKING BACKSTABBING TRAITOR. (That’s it now, that's the entire file.) She doesn’t revisit it again, not for almost eight months, despite Tendi’s cheerful updates on how he’s doing--they’re still in constant contact, despite his ghosting Beckett--and Rutherford’s worried comments on his well-being.

“It’s not our job to babysit him,” she snapped one day. “Hell, it wasn’t our job when he was here. Just let it go.”

And that was the end of that.

______

Okay, that was very much not the end of that.

It starts like this:

“Something’s going on, on the Titan,” Tendi hisses, dropping down into Beckett’s bunk at like 2am. Time doesn’t work the same out here as it does on Beckett’s home planet, but it feels like 2am so she’s calling it 2am. Everyone who’d been on the Alpha shift were pretty much dead to the world anyway, so it might as well have been. The point was, Beckett was sleeping, Tendi should have been sleeping, but instead the two of them are having an anxious stare off in the dark.

And Beckett’s currently having cardiac arrest from being startled so soundly. After her heart starts working again like a human heart is supposed to, the words begin to register. Sort of. “What?”

Tendi flips her padd around. Beckett blinks at the bright light from the screen, squinting to see what’s there.

“Is that morse code? Why the fuck is the Titian using morse code.”

Tendi stares at her unblinkingly, face flat.

Then,

“Oh. Oh shit. Shit!” Beckett sits straight up, throwing the covers off. There’s a few protesting noises and shushes that ensue around the room, but Beckett is already making a blind grab for her pants and shoes. “The fuck didn’t you lead with that?”

“Because people are sleeping,” Tendi whispers. Loudly. She rolls off the bunk and onto the floor, shoes already on. “So we’re going, right?”

“Of course we’re fucking going,” Beckett hisses. “Why wouldn’t-”

“Because you’ve been all hung up over him for the past eight months.”

“He ghosted me!”

“Okay yeah-”

“After accepting a promotion that he promised he wouldn’t-”

“Mariner-”

“He’s a backstabbing, little weasel who climbs over his friends-”

“Is this about that or the fact that you miss him?”

Beckett finishes pulling her shoes on and stands up, scowling. “I don’t miss him. Why are you defending him?”

“I’m pissed too. Don’t get me wrong, when we see him I’m gonna kill him. But I think this is more than that.”

“Whatever.” Beckett turns on her heel. “Are we stealing a shuttle or what?”

“Rutherford’s already on it.” Tendi taps rapidly on her data padd, keeping pace with Beckett’s light job easily. “We were hoping you could like. Let your mom know-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Beckett pulls out her comm, quickly typing out a quick message to her mother. “This is gonna be a shitshow.” The two of them enter the shuttle bay, which is pretty much deserted due to it being beta-shift.

“I have no idea how we’re even going to sneak onto the planet. It’s been on lockdown since the Titian crashed there.” Tendi’s shoulders slump.

“Leave it to me, I know a guy.”

“Of course you do,” Rutherford says, popping head out the shuttle door. “Good to go?”

Tendi gives him a thumbs up.

Beckett straps herself into a chair, stomach churning. “He’s fine though, right? Like, we would have gotten a call. Who’s his emergency contact anyway?”

Tendi worries her lip between her teeth. “His mom? I don’t know, it never came up and I don’t have access to his file.”

“He wasn’t on the list of deceased. Just the missing persons list,” Rutherford offers helpfully, punching in some coordinates.

“Well that’s reassuring,” Beckett mutters under her breath. She stares down at her comm, stomach churning.

_______

“Seriously, what are the odds of this even happening?” Tendi asks, dragging Rutherford by the arm behind them. A severely concussed, disgruntled Rutherford makes a grunt of what Beckett assumes is agreement.

“Do you really want to be arguing about the odds right now?” Boimler shrieks, sliding to an uncoordinated stop as the four of them run directly into the maze wall.

“Fuck,” Beckett says, eloquently.

“I thought you said you knew which way we were going!” Boimler runs a hand through his wet hair, face going through a series of complicated expressions before settling on frustration.

Beckett crosses her arms. “I did know where we were going. When I had the fucking map!”

“Why are you yelling at me about that? I didn’t even have it!”

“I don’t see anyone else here dumb enough to have lost it.”

“Guys-”

“You were the last person with the map, Mariner.”

“Unless some idiot took it out of my pack when I wasn’t looking.”

“Guys.”

“I didn’t touch your stupid map! Why are you so fixated on this!”

“Because if we had the map, maybe we wouldn’t be about to die via giant space spider!”

“Guys!” Rutherford shouts.

Beckett jumps at the unexpected shout from the usually quiet ensign. She turns on her heel, meeting Tendi and Rutherford’s unimpressed stares.

“Lookie, secret passage.” Rutherford waves a hand to a hole in the wall that hadn’t been there like two seconds ago. “You two good? Can we go?”

Beckett pushes past Boimler, lightly shoulder checking him and jumps through the doorway after her two annoyed friends. She doesn’t listen worriedly to see if Boimler follows her (she doesn’t) and she doesn’t resist the urge to turn around and make sure he’s close.

She balls her hands into tight fists and stomps past Tendi and Rutherford, ignoring the exchanged glances. “Please tell me this is a way out.” Her flat voice has the barest hint of a tremble in it.

You’re losing your touch, Mariner, get it together, she tells herself.

Tendi pulls a lighter out of her back pocket. (Because of course D’Vana Tendi has an old timey lighter on hand. There was a reason Beckett liked her after all.) It takes a couple of flicks, but she manages to get it to catch. The small source of light barely lights up their passageway, but it’s enough to see that it leads deeper into the planet.

“Well, here goes nothing,” Tendi sighs. “I’ll take the lead, I guess. You good, Sam?”

Rutherford grimaces, but nods. “Nothing I can’t handle. Let’s just get out of here.”

_______

It would be Beckett’s luck that she and Bomlier get separated from the other two. And it would just be their luck that there’s a cave in just before they reach the end of the catacombs. And of course, of fucking course, the Cerritos’ ETA on getting them out is anywhere from 2-6 hours, depending on how fast they can get the ship up and running again.

If anyone is using buffer time, Beckett is going to put spiders in their pillowcase.

“This is bullshit,” she mutters, dropping into a seated lotus position. She plays with Tendi’s lighter, flickering it on and off again.

Boimler grimaces from across her. “Can you stop that? It’s giving me a headache.”

Beckett makes steady eye contact again and flicks it off again.

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck yourself. Or whatever,” Beckett mutters. She flicks the lighter back on.

Boimler makes a face like he’s swallowing back a retort. Instead of snapping back, he jams his hands into his pockets. “Can we- can we just talk about it? Like actually talk about it, not passive aggressively pretend like-”

“Like passive aggressively avoiding your best friend’s calls is okay?” Lighter flicks off again. “Yeah, that seems like bitch move, for sure. Glad I don’t know anyone who does that.”

“I’m sorry,” Boimler says into the dark, voice cracking.

“Fuck you.” Beckett flicks the lighter back on. Boimler’s eyes follow it, eyes dilating slightly as the light hits them. She flicks it off again, plunging the cave into darkness again. She flicks it back on. Boimler leans heavily against the cave wall, not looking at her or the light. He starting to look very pale. Paler than usual.

Beckett wonders about that headache.

“How long were you out here before we got your distress signal?” she asks, keeping her eyes glued to the lighter. She sees him shrug in her peripheral.

“Dunno. A while.”

Her stomach tightens. “You didn’t like. See anything weird?”

“You mean besides you and Tendi hauling ass? Not really.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why?”

“What about strange smells-”

“Mariner.”

“You look pale,” she snaps. “And like super clammy. And I’m not talking about your stressed out will Mariner stop talking clammy, I’m talking like I think you inhaled a deadly neurotoxin kind of clammy.”

“I feel fine! Just the headache. Aaand maybe a slight stomach ache,” he adds at her flat expression. “I always have a stomach ache though-”

“-yeah, yeah, it’s the ulcer you’ve had since you were, like, two, you’re a goddamn medical marvel Boims. Budge over.” She shoves the lighter into his hands and grabs his face. “Are you dizzy,” she asks, peering in closely at his pupils.

Boimler tries to shove her away, but she’s stronger and more stubborn. “A little. Look, it’s just the headache and str-”

“Yeah, do you usually get pink eye from stress?” she asks dryly, pulling back to giving him some breathing room.

“I-what.”

“Your white are like. Super inflamed or whatever. Boimler, I think something’s wrong.”

“Shit.” He rubs his temples. “What’s that ETA again?”

“Six hours. Give or take some buffer time.” Mariner stands up. She’s not worried, she’s not. “Maybe you should lie down.”

Boimler glowers at her in the dim light, hands tightly wrapped around her lighter. “I’m fine.”

______

“Good thing you pulled him out when you did,” Dr T’Ana tells Ransom. “Any longer-” she pauses, seeing Beckett’s expression. “Do you want to know what it was?” she asks her.

Beckett, who’s currently white knuckling the back of the plastic chair by the biobed, shakes her head. “Not really,” she replies, stiffly. “Long-term effects?”

“None,” T’Ana replies, scratchy voice almost gentle. Almost. “So feel free to be as hard on him as you want when he wakes up.”

Ransom barks a laugh, clapping Beckett’s shoulder. “Oh, Mariner knows how to be-”

“If you make a single hard joke in my presence, I’m tossing you back onto that planet,” Beckett replies flatly.

Ransom removes his hand. “Right! Right, I’ll just be on my-”

“Out,” T’Ana and Beckett snap.

There’s a pause after the turbolift doors close after Ransom. Dr. T’Ana eyes Beckett warily for a moment. Then, “Call me if he wakes up with any symptoms.”

“You said-”

“Yeah, well. He has a lot of surprises in him, doesn’t he?” She gives Beckett a pointed look before leaving, grumbling down at her clipboard.

Beckett glares down at the unconscious Boimler. “The shit I go through for your dumb ass.” She flops into the uncomfortable chair. “Wake up already. It’s no fun yelling at you like this.”

____

Surprisingly, Beckett does not yell at Boimler when he wakes up. It’s a near thing, though.

“Well, thanks for not letting me die, I guess,” he says, watching her warily after she’s done ranting. Not yelling, ranting.

“I wouldn’t have let you die,” she scoffs. “You’re still my friend, dumbass.”

Boimler perks up in surprise. “What?”

“Look, just because you pulled the ultimate shitty move, doesn’t stop us from being friends. You’re still on notice, though.”

“Right! Right.” He pauses, blinking up at her. “Does it help that I submitted a transfer back to the Cerritos before any of this went down?”

Beckett freezes. “Wait, what?”

“Yeah. I mean, don’t get me wrong that was my actual dream job, buuuut-”

“Riker is crazy?” Beckett dryly supplies.

“I thought you were crazy,” Boimler lets out a whooshing breath. “Like I seriously thought you were the most batshit, insane person I’d ever met, hands down. But Riker is certifiable.”

Beckett grins. She can’t suppress it and she’s too tired to try. “So you’re saying I’m preferable.”

“I will take you any day of the week over that.”

“Sounds like a compliment.”

“It is.”

“Hmm.” She eyes him critically.

“Soooo,” he draws out the word. “Am I forgiven?”

Beckett picks his shirt up off the end of the biobed and throws it at his face. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” He pulls it over his head, causing his hair to stick up in the back. Beckett suppresses the urge to smooth it down.

“I like watching you squirm,” she replies. “It soothes my massively inflated ego.”

Boimler barks out a laugh, easing himself out of the biobed carefully. Beckett turns to go--he still has to talk with Dr. T’Ana and possibly her mom over the transfer, and give his full report to Riker--but stops as he catches her wrist in one hand.

“Hey. Thanks.”

Beckett’s heartbeat rackets up a few notches. Stop that, she thinks at it and then stops because thinking at your own organs is weird. “Don’t worry about it,” she says, voice even. “You would have done the same for me.”

It’s true. Boimler may be a bit of a bastard and sometimes a shitty friend, but she has no doubt he’d have come running if it’d been the Cerritos accosted.

“Yeah,” he replies. “Sometimes I feel like that’s all I do with you.”

“What?”

He drops his gentle grip on her wrist. “Nothing. Just.” He shrugs, looking cagey. “I know I’ve been a bit of a-”

“Bitch?”

“--yeah, that lately. But. There’s not much I wouldn’t do for you. And that’s why I’m coming back. Because-because you deserve to know that. That you're my best friend, too.”

Her face heats up. “Yeah, well,” she mumbles. “Whatever.” Jams her hands into her pockets. “Don’t think I’m just gonna forget everything because you-”

“Yeah, I know. It’s fine.” He gives her a lopsided smile. “I just thought you should know.”

____

Beckett can feel the blush on her cheekbones until she reaches her bunk. Fuck, she thinks. Fuuuuuck.

She opens up her mental file on Boimler, crossing out whatever she had in there before. Best friend, she replaces it with. Stares at it for a long moment. Erases it. Puts it back.

Bradward “Brad” Boimler. Best friend. Loves classic rock. Dyes his hair purple. Has made some improvements, but still needs to loosen up a bit. Probably needs to get laid. Definitely needs to get laid.

You could help with that.

Best friend. She underlines in the file. You don’t have feelings like that for your friends.

Beckett throws herself into her bunk. She had the horrible, sneaking suspicion that Brad Boimler’s file was about to get a lot longer.

_______

[booksandbeanjuice]

𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐔𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐍 ⌲ 𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘫𝘰𝘺𝘯𝘦𝘳

Word Count: 1205

——————————————————————————

c h a p t e r t h r e e

"Alright, a cheeseburger extra pickles with potato wedges and a chicken tender platter with fries. Would you like any ketchup or honey mustard?" the waitress looked at Piper.

"Ketchup, please," the girl responded. The waitress nodded and took off toward the kitchen while Piper took a sip of her strawberry lemonade.

"Ranch goes better with chicken tenders than any other condiment. Too bad you can't have it," Lillian chuckled.

The brown haired girl rolled her eyes at her friend. Every time Lillian got the chance, she'd brag about how great food is with certain things that she knew Piper couldn't have. 'Ah, the many glories of being lactose intolerant,' as Piper would say.

The two girls were complete opposites, but mentally and emotionally were somewhat the same; it's what makes them such great friends. Lillian was the type of person that you would be intimidated by at first, but would grow to love if you didn't piss her off the first time you'd met. Bold and stubborn are her most obvious traits, but only a few new Lillian for who she was deep down behind closed doors. Piper could read her like a book, but never pushed Lillian when she knew she wasn't ready. Lillian Greene was the friend everyone needed in their lives, but only few have been graced with.

"Has Artemis calmed down a little since Hudson came home?"

Piper was chewing the bite of french fries she had just put in her mouth. "Uh, no, not really." She swallowed her food before she continued. "I mean, he has in the sense of coming home before three in the morning. The dude still goes out and does who knows what, but Hudson keeps close tabs on him. I'm just glad he came home and I didn't have to babysit Art anymore."

The curly haired best friend nodded to Piper as a sign of understanding and comprehension of what she had said. "Well, if you and Hudson ever need a babysitter for him, you know my schedule." Lillian winked at her friend.

Piper gagged. "I still think it's so weird that you like my brother. It's been over ten years now, Lil. You know you can't tame that feral beast."

Lillian shot back playfully, "Hey, a girl can try!"

The friends giggled until a phone notification caught their attention. "Work?" Lillian asked Piper.

"Who else would it be," Piper stated dryly. "They want me to come in fifteen minutes early because they've hired a new girl and she starts today." She started to pile her utensils and things on top of her empty plate of food and took one last sip of her drink. Piper stood up from the booth. "Text me how much mine is and I'll venmo you when I get a chance. I'm so sorry."

Lillian looked at her friend. "Don't worry about it, Pipes. I still owe you for buying my food last week. Call this even."

Piper smiled at her friend and held up her hands in the shape of a heart in front of her chest before she turned around and headed for the front door. Even though her job was just right down the road, Piper got in her car and drove since she wouldn't be going back to Greene's after her shift.

The familiar bells chiming above the door when Piper walked in grabbed the attention of her coworker, manager and the new hire. She made her way over behind the desk to set her belongings down and then faced the people present in the room. The lobby was quiet besides the constant low hum of the vending machine echoing through the space.

"Thank you for coming in early. I know you were probably at lunch with Lillian, and I apologize for that, but Lloyd wanted you to come in so that he could show the new girl around."

The girl smiled softly at her friend. "It's okay, Z. I was finished with my food anyway."

"Right, okay, so welcome to The Lotus, Zoe! This is Piper and Zion. Piper is lead concierge and been here for about four years and Zion has been here for around two and a half. If you have any other questions that I do not answer during your training today, feel free to ask Piper for answers. This girl knows this place like the back of her hand." The dark haired girl glanced at Piper for a second, then at Zion, and then back at Piper. Her second look at Piper could have turned her into stone.

Lloyd and Zoe walked to the back to go over some ground rules and give her papers containing information about her new job. Zion turned to his friend and coworker. "Let's hope she doesn't quit after a week like the last person did."

Piper chuckled, "Yeah, let's hope not."

A few hours go by with foot traffic being steady  for a Thursday afternoon. Zion was forced to take his break with the new girl, which left Piper at the front desk all by herself for half an hour. She didn't particularly mind since there was still an hour or so before the business started to pick up. The girl hopped off of her stool to go scan a room key back into the system as unoccupied. The chiming bells above the front door signaled that someone had probably come in. Piper faintly heard footsteps approaching the front desk and a couple seconds later hearing the bell atop of it ringing out.

"I'll help you in just one second," she called out.

The red indicator on the computer screen switched to green, telling her the key has been unassigned to the previous person. Piper slid the key into it's manila envelope and placed it into the correct number cubby.

"Alright," she said as she exited the room," how may I help y-"

Piper's words were cut off when she saw the person waiting at the desk. She wanted to speak, but she couldn't find the words.

"Hi, Piper. I need a room i- if that's okay,” he quickly stuttered the last part. The boy pushed the sides of his hair that was sticking out under his hat back behind his right ear.

"Of, course you can, Mr. Joyner. Is it just for one night?" Piper asked. The shock and excitement of seeing Owen again after a couple weeks made her want to do a little dance.

"I'll actually be here for about a week," he said.

"A week it is then," she said to him with a smile as she registered a room to him.

Piper went and grabbed a key card for him after taking his payment. He thanked her and went on his way to find his room that he would reside in for the next week. Her mind was spinning a million miles an hour. She hasn't seen the guy for only a short period of time and couldn't get him out of her head for any of it. Why was this guy so special? Why was he so stuck in her mind? Piper didn't have any answers to these questions, but knew this - Oh, what a week this will be.

——————————————————————————

Missed a chapter? No problem! Find it below:

↬ One

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[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

A collection of fics I’ve read (/reread) and thoroughly enjoyed in the past week-ish from all kinds of fandoms and genres.

ATLA

✩ a nation, held by snowdarkred

It doesn’t take long for the rumors to start.

The Fire Nation prides itself on its civilization. It isn’t like the other, lesser, nations who throw their children away by sending them into war. Those uncultured and unfeeling savages who are destroying their own future faster than the Fire Nation can save them from themselves.

Every Fire Nation child goes to school. They learn reading and writing, the illustrious history of their country, and what will be expected of them as proper, upstanding Fire Nation citizens. They are to be protected, because children are the future glory of the nation.

The crown prince is thirteen when his father burns his face in front of an audience of hundreds.

Harry Potter

this dark world aches for a splash of the sun by linil

The point is, Harry is having a right old time and he is suddenly, very much not pale. He’s outside as much as is physically possible, which means he soaks up gallons of sunlight a day. It seeps into his skin, into the muscles and bones beneath, probably, staining him a warm mahogany, barely paler than Hermione.

Umbrella Academy

Razor burns and other lingo by TheArchaeologist

In the apocalypse, beards were useful, because they protect the skin from the elements.

At The Commission, beards were deadly, because your target could grab them and overpower you.

When he returned home, Five was thirteen, and did not need to think about shaving his face.

Now, Five is sixteen, and the stubble has returned.

(The Hargreeves men have a moment and Five just wants to be left in peace.)

[discard all feelings, the stars scar my ceiling] by Anonymous

the hargreeves kids were always set to be extraordinary.

oh, they would have developed powers regardless of the exact circumstances of their upbringing, but the specific powers they ended up with are defined by just that–– the ways they tried to protect themselves from reginald's cruelty.

Untamed

​✩ The Absolutely True Story of the Yiling Patriarch: A Manifesto in Many Parts by aubreyli (+ podfic)

Wei Wuxian’s hand jolts, spilling a drop of wine onto the tabletop. “Love?” he croaks, then clears his throat and tries again. “Lan Zh— uh, Hanguang-jun, in love?”

“Have you not heard the story?” the other young woman asks, looking pitying. “You must, it is a truly heartrending tale of star-crossed romance and mutual pining — go to any storyhouse in town, everyone has been requesting a reading of this book.”

“There’s a book?” Wei Wuxian says blankly.

(In which the junior disciples (namely, Lan Jingyi, Ouyang Zizhen, and a reluctant Lan Sizhui) turn to RPF in an attempt to rehabilitate Wei Wuxian's reputation so that he and Hanguang-jun can get together and get married and live happily ever after. It's... surprisingly effective.)

✩ Something Yet to Learn by Glitterbombshell

Part 1 of Joy In the Midst of These Things

“Wei Wuxian,” the man grits out, and he pauses with one hand reaching for the door handle. The disciple who had come in to speak to Lan Qiren brushes past him and exits the pavilion without a backwards glance. Wei Wuxian turns back to Master Lan, one eyebrow tilting up in question. “An urgent matter has come up,” Lan Qiren says, every word sounding like it’s being forcibly dragged from him. “His Excellency requests my presence. Their current instructor is ill, I was meant to take over classes for today,” he continues, gesturing towards the tiny juniors. He swallows heavily, and the next sentence sounds bitter. Choked. “I cannot leave them unattended.”

Wei Wuxian just blinks at him.

(Wei Wuxian is asked (under duress) to babysit a class of tiny Lan cultivators for just a few minutes. A few minutes turns into an hour, turns into two hours, turns into an impromptu literal field trip and now there's an entire class that is weeks ahead of their curriculum, their most junior disciples have apparently imprinted on Wei Wuxian like baby birds, and Lan Qiren has no one to blame but himself.)

détente by cafecliche (Note: All the Untamed fics by this author are great.)

Part 1 of the yunmeng accords

Wei Wuxian sits up a little further. Then instantly regrets it. “Go to bed, Jiang Cheng,” he groans. “I’ll live.”

“Will you?” Jiang Cheng says. “Because if you die in my guest room, Gusu Lan will have my head.”

He and Jin Ling really are the same person, sometimes. Wei Wuxian considers pointing out, again, that he is nowhere near dying, but he lets it go. He’s tired. And it’s apparently not helping. “Not all of Gusu Lan,” he says mildly. “I think the elders would send gifts.”

(Or: an unexpected stay in Lotus Pier.)

the soft animal by cafecliche

“You don’t think that’s strange?” he says. His voice, his new voice, is familiar now. But sometimes it almost startles him, hearing it come from his mouth. “It’s been nine months. I’ve used them almost every day. I should know how long these legs are.”

(Or: Wei Wuxian has a plan to train Mo Xuanyu's body. The results aren't quite what he expects.)

the price of a home by JemTheKingOfSass

Part 1 of the worth of a whipping boy

Jiang Fengmian places a calming hand on Wei Wuxian’s shoulder, but gives a gentle push towards the ground. Jiang Cheng watches as his brother sinks to his knees without any fuss. Madam Yu stalks over, staring down at him with a blank face and determined eyes.

“You said you understood when we took you in. You’re old enough now to start earning your keep.” Madam Yu reaches down and tugs loose the sash holding Wei Wuxian’s robes together. A few rough pulls of fabric and he is unceremoniously stripped to the waist. Zidian sparks in her hand.

Losing My Mind by pupeez4eva (Note: This author also has a great selection of Untamed fic, but I’m only reccing one fic so this list doesn’t up ridiculously long)

On a drunken dare, Jiang Cheng drinks a potion that allows him to hear other people’s lustful thoughts. It’s just his luck that he’s stuck in close vicinity with the guy who is completely and utterly besotted with his idiot brother.

One thing's for certain - there is no way he's leaving this with his sanity intact.

(Or, where Jiang Cheng has a lot of regrets, Lan Wangji is having an ongoing sexuality crisis, and Wei Wuxian is as oblivious as ever).

[if-found-return-to-gusu]

The Other Shoe

(OOC: Mild content warning. WWX is spiraling here. No threat of self harm but dealing with severe risk of mental shut down)

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

I’m not ready to talk about this.

I don’t know. 

I should have seen this coming. There really was no other way this could end.

So the other shoe dropped. It just wasn’t on the foot I was expecting. 

I’m… I’m probably being dramatic. 

But I didn’t expect it to hurt this much. 

Maybe it was because I actually didn’t see this coming. At least not now. 

---

I’m okay if I’m not alone. But I can’t expect someone to babysit me.

I don’t mean like I’m gonna do anything to myself or anything….. But actually that’s the problem.

I’m not going to do anything. Nothing. Just like before.

That time too.. This was why…

I’m not ready to talk about this. 

But I have to talk about it. 

The day… I was so nervous but I was so happy. And at first it went so good. 

It was Jiang Cheng’s birthday, which meant it was going to be the opposite of mine. A fancy shindig. A how-to-do of the who’s who.

But for the first time in years his parents weren’t going to be there. Uncle Jiang was out of the country and Madam Yu was off at a charity event. Apparently Jiang Cheng and Shijie had convinced her not to cancel because the publicity would be better for her to be at the event than at his birthday. 

I haven’t been to one of these since… well since before I was kicked out even. They took me to some sometimes when they needed to use me as a prop to show how generous they were but it was never one I wanted to go to. And it was never his or Shijie’s birthdays. 

We’d hold our own parties anyway. Just the three of us off by the lotus ponds. Those… those were the best. We were happy. 

I bought a suit. It’s ruined now. But I bought one. I bought it with my own money. Not the birthday money. Can’t bring myself to touch that. I bought it with my own money. 

It’s ruined now. 

Sorry I already wrote that.

I bought it for the party. I didn’t want to be an embarrassment. I was finally getting to be with my family. My family. 

I’m an embarrassment. I tried so hard. But of course I ruined everything anyway. 

I’m nobody. Nothing. 

I should never have…. 

To think I thought I might actually find a place there. 

Not with the rich folks. I know that I won’t fit there. But with Jiang Cheng. In his real circle. In his real life. 

But I’m… I can’t be there. I’m a shadow on the sidelines of his life. Someone who just shows up and breaks everything. 

I’ve probably made things so much worse for him. 

I never should have gone to that party. I shouldn’t have answered when he called me. I shouldn’t have let him find me at all. 

All of the Jiangs… they’re better without me blackening their name. They didn’t really ask for me. They just needed a kid. Any kid would do. And they were unlucky enough to be landed with me. I should have stayed in the system. 

I should have run away.

I should have….

No no stop it. This is the spiral I’m trying to avoid! No Stop it!

-----

Sorry. Sorry. This is just… It’s not as bad as it was before. Before I had nothing. I have so much now. I have the Wens. And the Lan brothers. And new treasured memories with my siblings and my niece and nephew. Even if I probably won’t get any more. Even if… even if this is all I’ll get I’ll treasure each stolen moment. 

It’s not as bad as when Wen Qing found me. But it FEELS like it. Just… everything she said to me… everything is rushing back. And it’s just like it was before. 

But no it’s not. I’m not 18 anymore. It’s been 10 years. 11. I’m not some poor kid with no connections or money. I’m not alone. 

I’m not alone

I’m not alone 

I am not alone. 

I. Am. Not. Alone.

Keep saying it. Keep saying it. Remind yourself. Put it on a piece of paper. Paste it on the walls. 

I am not alone. 

I’m okay. I’m home alone. And it’s okay. I’ll post this so I can be okay. 

Even if I’m alone in my apartment it doesn’t mean I’m alone.  

I’m not alone. I’m not unloved. I’m not without family. 

I need to remember this now while I’m in the light so I can remember it in the dark. 

Okay. Okay. 

I bought a suit so I could go to the party. Jiang Cheng offered to buy one for me but I didn’t let him. He probably would have bought a nicer one, but I think I did an okay job. I didn’t stick out like a sore thumb at least. 

Everything started out so well. I got a lift to the place and managed to get myself inside with my own golden ticket. 

(Yes i know. Invitations to a birthday party. Legit invitation only access. Rich people are just like that™.

But I got in. And there they were. Jiang Cheng was looking smart in royal purple. Never have seen anyone who could pull off that color as well as him. Shijie was next to him in a lovely lilac dress to match him. She’d left her kids at home with her husband. I could see her baby bump. She looked stunning.

And they looked…. They were happy to see me. Jiang Cheng bumped my shoulder and said he was surprised I actually showed up and that he was afraid he’d have to collect me himself. 

I wanted to give him a noogie. Didn’t.

I wasn’t going to ruin this. 

I did anyway. But not yet. Not yet. 

Most of the party went fine. I mingled with some people. Lan Xichen was there. It’s always nice to see him. He’s so pleasant to talk to and seems at home with the mindless smalltalk. His poker face is on point. Nie Huaisang was there which was a very welcome sight after all the gold bars dancing around pretending they gave two shits about my shidi. I didn’t seek him out too much though. We always end up giggling and drawing attention when we’re together. I couldn’t afford to fuck this up. I was determined.

He seemed to understand. Huaisang, you’re a great friend. You really are. I’m sorry… 

Ugh. 

Okay 

It was all going smoothly even if it was a bit dull. There was some elevator music going on and like expensive champagne flutes being carted around. I didn’t take any even though I wanted to down the lot to try and calm my fucking nerves.

People were mingling. Mindless chatter. Meaningless pleasantries. Congratulations, Jiang Wanyin. To your health, Jiang Wanyin. All the Best, Jiang Wanyin. 

I wonder how many would have even remembered his name if it hadn’t been on the invitation. 

But I was doing well until the gold-painted cinder block parading as a gold bar showed up. 

JIn… Zi something. I refuse to remember his name. Jin ZiXuan’s shitty cousin. The one who makes the peacock seem like the greatest guy in the world to hang out with. The guy whose flunkies stabbed me. Captain Constipation himself. 

I managed to make it the first couple hours without bumping into him. Because of course he’d be there. All the great families were there and he is, unfortunately, pretty high up on the Jin food chain. 

It was almost dinner time. I know that. We were gonna be shuffling off to the dining room.I was headed that way when he slammed into me “accidentally’ spilling his drink all over me. It wasn’t champagne. It was something made to stain. My suit is ruined. That’s not important. 

He did some fake apology. Then started going off about he’s surprised I was there. Surprised I was let in with such a tacky suit. Didn’t know this event let in nobodies. 

I took it until he started going in on Jiang Cheng. Saying if he was willing to associate with the lowest of the low like me then what was he really worth. 

I tried. I wanted to just get past him but he wouldn’t let me. 

I got a bit more forceful but I wasn’t gonna hit him. I knew better. I wasn’t gonna hit him because that’s what he wanted. But I had to get past him. So I pushed a little. 

And apparently that was enough. He had a couple flunkies (Not the one that stabbed me) come grab at me, saying he was gonna press charges and that he was gonna have to burn his suit to get the poor off of it and that I needed to reimburse him. 

Something tore as I tried to get at him. I’d had enough. He wasn’t gonna let me go without a fight then he was gonna get his fucking fight. It didn’t matter anymore. The ruckus was starting to draw people back out from the dining room. He wasn’t exactly being quiet. And then neither was I. 

I just wanted to leave. That’s all I wanted to do. I wasn’t even gonna go to the dinner. I was just gonna text Jiang Cheng that something came up and thanks for inviting me and happy birthday and I was gonna go. 

But then

I hadn’t seen her in 10 years. 

She’s still just as terrifying.

Madam Yu. 

Jin Zixun let me go all of a sudden and I knew something was up. And then I heard him bow to someone behind me. All dignified respectability. And when I looked there she was. 

I don’t even know how she found out I was even there. 

She screamed at me. She always screamed at me. Jiang Cheng came out then at the sound of his mother’s voice. 

He tried to defend me. But there is no defence against Madam Yu. And she didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. 

I’m nothing but trouble. I cause pain and disruption wherever I go. I can’t help it. I’m a walking disaster. Eventually I find a way to ruin everything. I can’t even go to a party without someone I’ve managed to piss off finds me. 

I don’t know when to shut up. I don’t know how to behave. I am a spot on Jiang Cheng’s reputation. 

How dare I contact her son? How dare I take advantage of his kind heart. 

Jiang Cheng tried to defend me. 

It just made it worse.

Because I am a parasite. I take and I take and what do I have to give back? Nothing.

What can I possibly do to repay the kindness others have given me? Nothing.

Nothing I can do will be enough. I can’t pay back my debt. 

I’m only alive at all through the kindness of others and I repay them only with shame. 

She screamed and screamed but never raised her voice. She is too dignified for that. But all the same she was screaming. 

She found out that Jiang Cheng had got me my phone. She smashed it on the ground. 

She blamed me for trying to poison her son against her. 

Apparently… Apparently he had talked to her after he read my blog. I didn’t know that. 

I hadn’t meant for him to find out but he did. And they fought.

I’m just making things worse for the Jiangs. I’m just creating tension where there doesn’t need to be any. If I’d just stayed away… 

She told me….

She told me if I ever went near her son again she would file a restraining order. She told me that she would have me imprisoned if she had to. She told me that I was a disgrace.

I ran. 

I ran and ran.

I think I heard some people run after me. 

I was faster. 

I ran. 

Just like before I ran. 

Just like before. 

This was just like before. 

Why did I not see this coming? 

Jiang Cheng had to sell his apartment. He’s not allowed to come to Gusu for anything not directly related to business. 

He’s not allowed to see me. 

I’m not allowed to see him. 

I ran. 

I’ve made everything worse again. 

I thought it had been long enough. Jiang Yanli is successfully married off just like Madam Yu wanted. Jiang Cheng is following his father’s footsteps and he’s flourishing just like Madam Yu wanted.

I thought just… just one party would be safe. I see them so little. But it was too greedy. 

I’m always too greedy. 

I take. All I do is take. 

I have nothing worth giving. So I take and take and take. 

I… I ran home first. I think I took a bus but I don’t remember most of the trip. I don’t know how long I was there. I was starting to shut down already. It didn’t happen that fast before. It was more than just Madam Yu before. Before I was lost and alone and starving. I was sick. I had tried to fight for a long time before I started shutting down.

I’m so pathetic I can’t even handle a scolding now. I’m so weak. I’m not sick. I’m not homeless. I’m not alone. And still I can feel it looming. 

I’m afraid to be alone because if I slip back under I don’t know if I’ll come back out. 

I’m scared. 

I’m scared.

So I ran again. As soon as I realized what was happening I ran. 

I didn’t have a way to contact him. I just ran and ran and ran. 

I should have called a car. Or at least taken my skateboard. I didn’t think of it. I couldn’t think

I couldn’t think of anything except that I needed him. I needed to not be alone. 

So I ran. 

By the time I showed up at Lan Zhan’s house I honestly felt like I was dying. I could hardly breathe and there was a stitch in my side so sharp I almost felt like I’d been stabbed again. 

But that was good. That kept me aware. It kept me moving. It kept me from shutting down. 

I all but slammed on his door. He looked so shocked. He looked scared. 

I… I don’t really remember a lot of it. I know I was at the door and then suddenly I was in his lap on the couch. And I was sobbing like a baby. A graceless wail. Shuddering, jerking sobs. 

I don’t know how long I was there. I know we talked. I think I tried to tell him what happened but I didn’t want to think about it. I couldn’t think about it. 

I probably made no sense. Probably just scared him even more. 

I calmed down eventually. Somewhat anyway. Externally at least. 

He was so gentle with me. Even though I burst in on his night. Even though there had to be a million things he’d rather have been doing. Lan Zhan is so good. He’s too good to me. 

I don’t deserve it. 

He said something to me. I don’t remember anymore but I know I responded reasonably. But he was so gentle. I started crying again and he just let me. He comforted me. 

At some point he wrapped me up in a blanket and he put Suibian in my lap. That helped for a minute. She’s so sweet. She’s at least one creature in this world I can do something good for. Even if it’s just helping feed her and pet her where she likes.  

He left to make me some hot chocolate. Hot chocolate that he only has in his apartment because I like it. He doesn’t drink it.

I don’t deserve him. I don’t deserve any of this. 

I don’t deserve anything.

I’m not worth it. Not worth it. 

I should have left but I couldn’t get myself to move. I think I was still petting Suibian. I don’t remember. I don’t… I don’t know what happened there but the next thing I was aware Lan Zhan was in front of me, looking slightly panicked. 

He said something but I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t respond.

He sat next to me and pulled me close. 

It helped. I started to talk

I tried to tell him what happened. I didn’t make any sense. 

He must have understood some of it though. He was shaking.

Was he angry? Did he agree with her? Did he finally realize how worthless I am? How I’ll only ever drag him down? 

He pulled away from me. Clearly he was disgusted. 

I panicked. I didn’t want him to go. I didn’t want to be alone.

I begged him to stay with me. I was panicking. I didn’t know what I’d do if he left me then. I was so scared. 

Please. Please. Please. 

Don’t leave me alone.

“Not alone. Never alone. I promise,” he said.

He sat back down. And I sobbed again.

I cried and cried and cried. I think he held me again. I think I remember being on his lap.

I cried and cried and cried until eventually I fell asleep.

But sleep was okay. Sleep was safe. Sleep is a reprieve. I won’t stop if I’m asleep.

I’m afraid of stopping. Not of sleeping. Sleep was safe.

Especially with Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan is safe. Lan Zhan keeps me safe.

Lan Zhan won’t leave me alone. 

He promised. 

I slept and slept and slept. 

I don’t remember falling asleep but I remember waking up in Lan Zhan’s bed. He was holding me. It was sunny outside. Peering through the window. 

Everything was fuzzy. My mind, my vision, my nerves. Everything was buzzing. My eyes were sore. My head was throbbing. 

Lan Zhan was there. He promised he wouldn’t leave me alone. Lan Zhan is safe. Lan Zhan is honest. Lan Zhan keeps his promises. 

Lan Zhan promised me I wouldn’t be alone. So I’m not alone. 

I twisted so I could bury my face in his chest. I could feel his strength under his sleep shirt. I could feel his heart beating against my skin.

Thump-bum. Thump-bump. Thump-bum.

I focused on that sound. 

He asked me what I wanted to eat. I could feel his voice shaking around in his chest.  I didn’t want to eat anything. The thought of it twisted my stomach. It made an unpleasant noise. I didn’t want to eat. I just wanted to sleep more.

Sleep was safe. Lan Zhan was safe. I was warm and secure. I just wanted to sleep.

But then he mentioned that Qin Su had made my favorite chocolate turnovers. 

ANd I realized

Work. We were late for work! I’d fucked up again. God Damnit.

I shot up. I couldn’t keep ruining things! 

Lan Zhan said that we didn’t have work today. That he’d had it covered. 

I told him he couldn’t just keep putting off work for me like this. 

He shook his head and repeated “Not today.” And then he looked at me and told me that it was a family emergency.

And… 

I think that broke me. 

It was too much. I do nothing but take but I couldn’t take this. I’d ruined one family already by trying to join it. I wouldn’t ruin him. 

I told him that we weren’t family. That I don’t have a family. 

I won’t have a family. I don’t want to ruin anyone else. 

I cried again I think. I don’t know for how long. I don’t know how I even had any tears left. 

He held me the entire time.

I cried. 

Eventually I ran out of tears again and even felt the knot in my stomach loosen enough that I thought I might be able to handle some food. 

Lan Zhan said he was gonna go get me something. I hadn’t eaten since the morning before. 

He got up to leave again. Because he can’t stay in front of me 24 hours a day. 

I know that

But I panicked again. 

I grabbed his arm. I just needed to make sure. Lan Zhan is safe, but I had to make sure. 

I asked him if he was going to come back.

He smoothed my hair away from my face and promised he would.

I nodded and forced myself to let go. He left for a moment. He just went down the hall. I could hear his footsteps. I sat there and listened. If I could still hear him I wasn’t alone yet. 

He came back quickly and dumped bunnies on the bed with me. Suibian and Bichen. 

It made me laugh a little. He actually got me to laugh. My chest felt lighter even for just that moment. 

Suibian curled up next to me right away. I had to coax Bichen over. She looked uncertain but eventually gave in. 

I laid on my side and she curled up against my tummy.

They helped. They helped for a little.

But…

I… My thoughts started to spiral again. I was slipping again.

I didn’t even realize Lan Zhan was back until all of a sudden he was holding me again.  I pressed closer to him. 

I wasn’t alone. 

I’m not alone. 

I’m not.

He told me he’d brought food. I eventually found the strength to sit up to eat them.

The chocolate turnovers that Qin Su made for me. One of my favorites.

I couldn’t taste them. But she made them for me. That wasn’t lost on me. She made them to make me feel better. 

I’m not alone. 

Lan Zhan pulled the hair tie out of my hair. Very carefully. And he started to brush my hair. I must have looked like a mess.

He was so careful and gentle. It felt so nice. 

He kept going even after he got all the tangles out.

I felt better. 

I thanked him for taking such good care of me but before I could finish that thought we hear---

JEEZUS FUCK. Sorry. There’s someone at the door??? Who would be here this late??

I’ll finish this later.

[incorrectquotes-randomthoughts]

(This is so long I’m sorry but I had to rant cause honestly I’m scared )

I literally made a post the other day about how we have to welcome in new fans and treat them equally but truth be told? I’M. NOT. FUCKING. READY

Bitch bitch bitch I mean I’mma have to stand this kids hardcore shipping Luke x Annabeth ???? Or Luke x Thalia ???? SIS they’re SIBLINGS wth Annabeth realized it later on it changed there was an arc.

Like this fandom closed the discussion on Luke’s redemption arc and the way he is and his motives we agree we have opinions but we’re FINE. Are you telling me ma boy is gonna be played by some hot teen (he is older) and 12 y/o’s are gonna be biased and I’m gonna have to yell at them across a screen cause they’re gonna act like Luke is a saint !!!!??

THE SHIPS. FUCKFUCKFUCK. BoTL Percy spent worried about Nico and if it’s done properly we’re gonna have all that worry face first and no one’s gonna be able to ignore it like the AMOUNT OF PEOPLE who are gonna say that’s OTP. I mean SHIT.

I haven’t even been in the [internet] fandom for that long like how I’m I supposed to go against this people who were here before me I mean they LEFT but what arguments do I have !?!?

The amount of people who only read pjo and went BYE like I can’t bring HOO up in discussions wdym????? How I’m I supposed to talk development and change and character arcs and what would they do in certain situations if you’ve never heard of them ????

I’M NOT READY

Y’all wanna know something terrifying? The maze runner fandom. Because there’s so little creators out there who actually love it the way I do and so much of it is obsessed with Thomas Brodie-Sangster and Newt I haven’t been there since I finished the books I couldn’t stand it. And I can’t stand the fact that our Percy actor is gonna be good-looking and I’m TERRIFIED of the amount of people who are gonna be here for what the actors look like you can’t understand this.

I MEAN all them debates are coming back up I can’t do this. This is such a fantastic fandom (and I’m in many, trust me) like we’re all at peace there’s no arguments you can literally come by and just vibe.

OH FUCK ANOTHER THOUGHT. So since we’re getting official characters and stuff I swear if ONE IDIOT hates on viria’s or Livibis’ or Markiehh’s art (they’re the one’s at the top of my head) because it’s “inaccurate” or “far off” from what they look on screen they better watch the fuck out because they have no idea the fandom they’re messing with.

OH AND SHIT I know this has been brought up but the way we treat Nico??? All baby and soft and all that and how our fanon Nico is just so different from the actual canon kick-ass Nico, ya know? But we kinda understand how powerful Nico is but we still love him cause poor kid was 10 and then all of it happened and he was 13/14 (?) during tlo and the PTSD so we’re chill with that BUT. There’s the fact that our son is gay and god the amount of people who are gonna come in (cause there’s obviously gonna be foreshadowing) and be like “ooh gay baby look at him” that’s badly explained but I know you guys understand. And specially if we get to HoO and the horrors getting to ToA would be. Like we already have our fanon Nico but if someone DARES to even IMPLY that Nico can’t kill you with a thought the entire fandom know better and will prove them wrong. But the new fans what would they know.

You know what’s going to be fucking horrible ???? PARENTS. I mean UGHHHHHH. My parents only know I’m reading what I tell them I’m reading (“a book about Greek mythology”). Like I’m terrified of my mom picking up The Burning Maze sitting on my desk or any Cassandra Clare book cause the homophobia in this household is astronomical. (Don’t know how many of you will understand but the PANIC I went through reading the red scrolls of magic? God knows she would check every book I get form the library from the on) Back to the point sorry. But y’all pjo is mostly safe but Rick already talks about how parents complain about adding a Genderfluid character to a Norse mythology book (I mean Ma’am go educate yourself) and how his books “would be more successful without [gay] characters” ???? What if we get Kane Chronicles some asshole is gonna come up about Sadie being polyamorous, Alex and Magnus are gonna be a problem, Will and Nico, House of Hades is gonna make Karens riot because of one scene.

You can see how Disney treats Seblos (hsmtmts) compared to the other couples on the show. You can see how not even half of Andi Mack is actually on Disney+ (after getting brutally canceled) you can see how Diary of a Future President hasn’t been renewed when it’s reviews are 100% for both critics and public. How the Love, Simon series was removed (now on Hulu) because it wasn’t a good mix with “the family-friendly content on Disney+” (underage drinking + s*x are brought up in discussions but the show isn’t out yet and we have no idea). So pardon me for being scared of how this is going to be treated.

Back to the new fans. I’m gonna say the topic that’s the most brought up that causes discussions is Leo (?) Tbh I’m still lost on the Leo x Echo thing that everyone else seems to understand. Plus the hate on Caleo is probably the biggest issue in this fandom. (Which is like saying the biggest problem in a perfectly written essay are some barely noticeable erase-marks, but still). Anyways a fair amount of people dislike Leo for reasons I kinda comprehend. I know a kid and he’s the exact definition of Leo, (I’ll probably talk about this in an individual post) and people don’t like him, I know most of you would avoid him. I know he’s great but people just don’t seem to like him.

(wOw i’M sO gOOd aT sTaYInG oN tOpiC)

I don’t think I’m gonna be able to survive hate on characters that probably WILL come.

Solangelo is called rushed a lot and I would want to see this two fall for each other and Nico let down his walls and talk about his PTSD from Tartarus (which friendly reminder Percy saw for a few minutes the way Nico saw it the whole time and it was the worst part of his entire experience there). But I mean there WERE six months between BoO and ToA, I am pretty sad we didn’t get to see them.

oH JESUS follow-up on Nico earlier; the fetishization, or Apollo, or Will.

Ok... ha, this is fun....

OH WAIT NEW THOUGHT SJDJDJD On the topic of Luke’s redemption arc... BIANCA,, they better do my girl properly who thought she had stayed months at the Lotus Hotel babysitting her lil’ brother and then was put into a school where they were outcasts and she probably knows as much as Nico about mythomagic from his rants and she thought he was gonna be safe and she wanted freedom and be her own person so she joined the hunters. And as a fandom we’ve talked this out but what about the new fans, they better not try to act like she did anything wrong cause that’s just not-

OH AND no one better hate on Clarisse cause yeah she’s the minor antagonist but she’s a very well-written character who doesn’t change the way she is but is kinda less of an ass towards Percy. And she and Silena are good friends and she and Chris are dating and she is a human being with valid feelings. She was terrified for Chris in BoTL and cared for him and nurse him back to sanity and stayed with him. She throws Percy and Annabeth into the lake which so it’s prove she and Percy are more in the friendly banter I-won’t-admit-how-much-I-care-for-you-if-it-meant-my-life relationship. Then this doesn’t happpen until the last two books (seasons?) so we can’t actually go around saying it? In SoM we learn about how Ares treats her which is SO important so I guess S1 comes out and we sit here telling new fans “You’ll know next season” cause we can’t directly spoil it and then we’re like “You gotta wait for seasons 4 and 5” ugghhhhh this is too much.

Ok I’m done for now I’ll reblog this with any new terrifying thoughts when if they come.

[druddigoon]

Snippets of ATLA wips I hate too much to finish that I like enough to post on Tumblr

I know most of my followers are from Pokemon nowadays, but I still do post some atla stuff. Also this is probably like 4k+ words of complete shit so I’m putting them under the cut

Brother, Son 

“How do you play Pai Sho?” Ozai asks, peeking over the low rim of the Pai Sho table. He’s almost four now, toddles his way around the palace clinging the legs of the staff, parroting official declarations from the leverage of a chabudai. Their parents barely acknowledge his younger brother - Azulon is busy countering earthbender resistance on the eastern front, and Ilah handles military campaigns to the Water Tribes. As loyal Fire Nation citizens, their duty rings like a mantra: Nation beyond family, personal sacrifice for the greater good. 

And Ozai is left alone. 

Iroh idly twirls a lotus tile beneath his finger. “You’ll learn it when you’re older,” he says, pulling the trick their mother always used on him. Iroh is fifteen; old enough to join the army but not in the front lines, not yet anyways. It drives him mad. 

Ozai pouts and starts whining an ear-grating whimper. That kind of noise usually gets him a backhand and a harsh scolding from their father, but he’s smart enough to realize that Iroh would never hurt him in that way. He tugs on Iroh’s sleeve, puffs his chubby cheeks into a pout. “Please?”

When Iroh doesn’t respond, Ozai stumbles his way to his brother and collapses around his waist. Small arms try, and fail, to wrap around him. “I humbly request assistance regarding certain matters of conduct that appear to be beyond my comprehension. Would you care to enlighten me?”

If Iroh had been drinking tea at that moment, it would be coming back up through his nose. He ends up bursting out laughing, because did Ozai not realize how sarcastic that was? His brother rolls off, confused, but ends up giggling along. 

After their laughter petered off, Iroh wipes the tears off his face and grins. “I suppose that can be arranged.” He gestures at the tiles while Ozai bounces up and down. “Now watch, my disciple; Pai Sho is a game of strategy…” 

Ozai fails to grasp the finer points of Pai Sho, but Iroh discovers that he didn’t mind. He likes watching Ozai; the boy has an awful poker face, and Iroh can differentiate the multitude of emotions that manifested in his expression. Confusion, in a crooked tilt of his eyebrows and a crease on his nose. Contemplation, in a furrowing of his forehead and intense glare of his eyes. Glee, in the way the corners of his mouth curved like a shy little thing. Iroh begins giving him little loopholes just to see that smile more.  

Curt raps at his door snaps Iroh out of his contemplation. Ozai casually moves another tile. “Come in.” 

A servant enters. “Prince Iroh, your firebending lesson starts at noon. It’s been two hours.” 

Iroh looks at the sun outside his window, surprised to see how low it hangs; he’s never been the one to lose track of time. He glances back at Ozai, who has his head turned away from him as if he’d trying not to meet his gaze. “I’ll be out in a minute. Wait outside.” 

After the servant leaves, Iroh grabs his brother’s shoulders and turns Ozai towards him. “What’s that matter?” 

Ozai’s face looks crestfallen. “I-” he stops, purses his lips, and continues with the simple honesty of a child, “-I don’t want you to leave, that’s all.” 

"No.”

So this is what having a brother feels like. Iroh smiles at Ozai, who looks back incredulously. "We’re princes. The servants listen to us, not the other way around.” He makes his move with a flourish. "Your turn.”

Oai’s grin was the widest he’d seen yet, and their game fades well into the evening.

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

Ozai cannot please their father, Iroh’s learned, and not for the lack of trying. The boy wakes up hours before the sun rises, rehearsing through his katas illuminated by the cusp of dawn. Stands a little straighter in court meetings, gleams with a pomp of authority when in the general vicinity of the throne. He loves Azulon with every fiber of his being.

Azulon hardly notices.

He can feel the flames of rigor flare in his brother’s chi as he watches Azulon address his troops, the wisp of smoke that escapes through clenched fists. They were royalty; lavished with care, laden with gifts, and yet he still yearns, yearns for something that he will never reach. (They have a habit, the Fire Nation, of aiming the arrow further than the bow can shoot.)

Because Ozai is flawed, and very much so. Despite his rigorous training, he is naturally clumsy, as if his chi is innately unbalanced from the moment of his birth. At the age of six he still possesses the incoordination of a toddler, tripping over his own feet and fumbling with objects enough that he’s been banned from the royal archives from accidentally dropping a candle. His fire burns strong, but not strong enough for someone of his bloodline. By the time Iroh was his age, he’d already mastered four more sets than he did. By the time Iroh was his age, he could recite the names and dates of all important battles (all Fire Nation victories, of course) and pinpoint them on a map. By the time Iroh was his age, he had earned the respect of his father of his country.

Ozai is the second-born; less talented, less needed. He bears the scars of the uncontrollable on his skin, reminders of their father’s fury and the love he can never own because of his succession at birth.

(And perhaps that was why, when Azula came to the world with infernos in her eyes and lightning at her fingertips, Ozai named her after his greatest desire, and reached out for her like it never did.)

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

Shortly after Lu (and he should think my son instead of just his name, like he’s a pawn on a roster, just a tally amidst the casualties, but it hurts too much when he’s used him like a soldier instead of loving him like a father) Ten’s death, Iroh receives a letter stamped with the royal insignia, addressed specifically to him. The person who brings it is one of his closest servants, one of the few he allows in his tent anymore; he bids him leave with a jerking sweep of his hand, and Iroh is alone.

The precise calligraphy of words is heartwrenchingly familiar, and yet the letter’s contents read like a stranger’s. His brother’s tone is formal, clipped. Ursa and I are sorry for your loss it reads, and the rice paper starts to smolder around its edges. I have decided to return this back to you. I no longer have any need for it.

There is a bundle attached to the message, heavier than expected, and inside Iroh finds the Prince’s crown. He knows that this means. He knows his brother too much and not enough, because they are worlds away and he is losing him.

His troops looked startled when they saw their general exit his tent for the first time in months, clad in the dark linens of a mourning man. When asked where he was leaving to, Iroh replied simply: “Home.”

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

(“Ozai used to be my brother.” Iroh mentioned once, offhandedly, the night they first camped at the Western Air Temple when he found Zuko wide awake. He was standing in the central pavilion (with its sweeping murals amidst pallid marble, that probably wasn’t built to be so empty) leaning out from the balcony to catch the passing wind on his arm. The other was wrapped up in a cast.

Zuko looked at him. He seemed confused; he could see it in the familiar crooked tilt of the brow, the way his nose wrinkled just so. “But Father still is.”

He says it with such sincerity and innocence despite the bandages obscuring his left visage, and later when he falls asleep, Iroh weeps. Because after all Ozai did to the boy, he still loved him like a son to a father, a brother to a brother.)

Azula Week Day 7 (AN: Never thought of a title for this haha)

“I did not consent to this,” Azula says, after she recovers from the initial shock.

Her only reply is a burble. Izumi is one year and five months old and still communicates in phonemes. Zuzu seemed to be slacking in supplementing her development; by her age, Azula was just beginning to recite classic Fire Nation poems.

She resolves not to mention it in front of him. “I was also under the impression you had alternate babysitting options that didn’t drastically increase your child’s risk of mortality.”

Zuko, who had barged into her household unannounced (“You know there are strict punishments for home invaders under Fire Nation law, right?”), has the grace to act sheepish. “And those ‘alternate babysitting options’ are out of reach now, unfortunately.” He unceremoniously dumps his daughter onto Azula’s lap; Izumi’s shirtfront is damp with slobber and immediately wets Azula’s robes. “Iroh’s tending to his teashop in Ba Sing Se, and Ursa left with Noren to visit their old village for a couple weeks. Mai—not that I consider her a babysitter, she’d kill me—is coming with me, and none of my friends except you and Toph are in the Caldera right now.”

Azula raises an eyebrow, still managing to look skeptical with a toddler drooling against her robes.

“Please?” Zuko pulls a puppy-cub face, the one he used when they were children to get what he wanted from their mother. Azula has no idea why he believes it’ll work on her. “I have an urgent meeting with Aang in Republic City, and I can’t bring Izumi—or Kiyi for that matter, she had school—along with me. I don’t trust the palace staff to take care of them.”

Funny how Zuzu trusts her more than the people hired to serve him. Azula relents. “Fine. You better come back for them in four days like you promised, or I’m putting both up for adoption.”

Zuko ignores the jab (it had no heat to it anyway) and showers profuse thanks, pulling her into a quick, uncomfortable, and consent-violating hug. He sweeps out of the apartment before Azula can retaliate, most likely in a way that would burn her house down.

The door swings shut behind him.

Not long after, Toph walks in, clad in her official ambassador’s attire and looking utterly bewildered. Azula takes mercy and fills her in.

“We’re impromptu babysitting for my brother. I have Izumi, and Kiyi’s already upstairs brooding or something.” Kiyi is pushing into her teens and is already doggedly stretching her independence, as well as everyone’s patience. (Azula likens it to jumping off a cliff and hoping to fly.) She had bolted for their guest bedroom the moment Zuko arrived, in an attempt to avoid the “grown-ups” below.

“Oh. Huh.”

“We’re stuck with them until Zuzu comes back from his meeting.”

“Huh.” Toph sits down on their living room couch, still processing the information. Azula tugs a bowl of fruit out of Izumi’s reach. “Huh.”

“Remind me again why I decided to make nice with him.”

Toph shrugs. “Beats me.” ------------------------------------

Azula has brought down armies, made lesser men bow beneath her feet; she overtook Ba Sing Se in a day’s coup without killing a single person, something her ancestors been trying for eons without success; she almost killed the avatar, and had once stood against him and three other master benders (because Zuko wasn’t one) to come out unharmed. She was a prodigy firebender and manipulator, capable of getting almost whatever she wanted.

If any of those achievements transferred to present day, it means that she is capable of feeding a drooling toddler.

“Eat.” Azula commands, pressing a spoonful of rice congee against Izumi’s unyielding lips.

She once had the unfortunate privilege of watching Zuzu feed her—saying “heeeere comes the dragon!” in a disgustingly sugary voice and cooing whenever Izumi took a bite—and refuses to replicate his technique. So far she’s managed to get one mouthful in, only for Izumi to spit it all out onto her bib.

An ungroomed Toph walks into the kitchen, yawning and rubbing her eyes. Whereas Azula always rises with the sun, the earthbender prefers to sleep in. She sticks a finger up her right nostril. “Everything alright here, Thunder?”

Azula takes the opportunity to remove herself from the warzone, stepping over to the sink to wash the stickiness from her fingers. “Just peachy. The infant seems determined to starve herself and I’ve just about given up trying to stop her.” She glares up indignantly when Toph has the audacity to laugh at her. “Hilarious, isn’t it? You try shoving congee up her mouth.” 

“Heh, sure,” It’s too early in the morning to engage in their snarky banter, so Toph just picks up the brush on the counter and grooms her boarqpine’s nest of a hairdo. Izumi starts making babbling noises, bits of congee still dripping past her lips. “You go wake up Kiyi then. The clock on the wall behind me says there’s only an hour until she has to go to her classes.”

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

“How did waking the sleeping beast go?” Downstairs, Toph seems to have successfully allocated half the bowl into Izumi’s stomach. Her amusement tapers off as Azula sweeps into the kitchen like a brewing storm. “What’s wrong, Thunder?” 

(It’s sweet that Toph can detect her moods and episodes through the way she carries herself and know what to do without Azula having to tell her outright. Right after the war it had been a sign that she was slipping from perfection, but nowadays Toph’s gotten sharper and Azula’s learned that there’s strength in vulnerability.)

“Not well, unfortunately. I stuck a hand in its mouth and it bit back.” She occupies herself in wiping Izumi’s face, hoping that Toph is familiar with her moods enough to know now is not the time to pry. 

Toph’s not happy about that (she can see it in the way she blows at her bangs, how her nose wrinkles just so) but decides not to pursue. “Well I think that’s all Izumi’s eating today. We should probably change her diaper now. I smelled something funky while I was feeding her.”

“I’ll do it. Agni knows how you wipe your own butt.”

“If you want, I’ll let you do it for me.” 

Azula mimes a shudder, and Toph snickers. “I did not need that suggestion. Next time you make such a scandalous request, I’ll sleep in my own bed for the next month.” 

“Pssshh. As if you’re able to hold out that long.” Azula is pulling Izumi’s linens out from under her when she hears Toph set another bowl of congee on the counter. She looks over her shoulder to see Kiyi creeping near the table, timid as a sparrowmouse. The girl quietly takes Toph’s offered spoon but ends up clinking it against the ceramic, looking up at Azula in guilt. Toph tilts her head expectantly. 

She sighs, strolling over to the pile of supplies Zuzu left her and picking out some clean linens. “I understand that some adolescents are incapable of regulating what comes out of their mouths, and will not hold it against you. Now stop acting like a kicked puppycub.” 

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

One questionably wrapped diaper later, Izumi is bouncing on the carpet with Azula holding her for support. The toddler is drooling (again) and making infant noises and what suspiciously sounds like “A-zhu-a”. Babies are a peculiar thing, high maintenance with rolls of fat, soft cheeks and a bulbous head. This one has come out of Mai’s vagina, after… no, best not to think about it. Azula can never imagine herself this gross and vulnerable.

An infant babbling Azula’s name on repeat is somewhat unnerving, so she procures a wooden rattle to occupy Izumi, only to remove it when she starts gnawing. Izumi starts pouting and making little distressed noises, so Azula returns it.

Toph has sent Kiyi off with some well wishes and a hearty slug to the shoulder. Now she settles on the carpet, listening to the rhythm of Izumi’s stomps.

“She should be close to walking by now,” Azula says, “Both Zuzu and I learned to walk by our thirteenth month.”

Toph shrugs. “Give her time. She might be a late bloomer; I didn’t walk by myself until I was well over two years old. It’s probably why my parents didn’t see me as a good earthbender, us being familiar with the ground and all.”

A pause. Toph leans in, contemplative. “...Do you think Izumi would let me touch her face?”

It isn’t like Toph—headstrong, stubborn Toph, Avatar’s sifu, greatest earthbender in the world—to speak with a quiet waver in her voice. In a way, her uncertainty makes Azula feel better about her own insecurities right now. They are navigating new territories, but they are doing so together. “I don’t think she’ll mind much. Be gentle with the top the head though; I’ve heard that the skull isn’t too developed there.”

It brings Toph out of her contemplation. She scoffs. “Yeah right, who do you take me as?”

“Someone who punches holes in the pavement when she’s angry and smashes boulders with her head when she’s bored,” Azula reminds her.

“Also someone who’s a master metalbender, which asks for, as you like to say about your crazy fire katas, ‘utmost finesse’.”

Despite her braggadocio, Toph reaches for Izumi’s face gingerly, cradling her cheek against calloused fingers. Izumi wrinkles her face but, to their surprise, does not cry out.

Azula watches as Toph’s hands explore Izumi’s face: cresting over her nub nose, ghosting past her eyes, combing the downy black hair without ever touching the scalp. Toph herself is in a trance, her brows furrowed in concentration. After a brief eternity she withdraws with a fluid motion as if finishing the tail end of a meditation.

“Hello, I’m Toph,” she tells her.

Izumi claps her hands.

‘She’s squishy.” Toph says, turning to Azula. Izumi is repeating “Tawh, Tawh, Tawh” while bouncing in Azula’s arms. Entranced, Toph reaches over to grab her hand. “Can I hold her?”

Yes, they’ll get through this together.

“Can’t know if you don’t try,” Azula says when Izumi leans forward into Toph’s arms.

Ember Island Blues  (AN: This was a test thing gone wrong and I hate it a lot)

 Azula has only gained a few inches after the war, making her shorter than Katara. Her hair, once lustrous black, has greyed prematurely; her eyes, while sharp, now have a haunted look to them - a sun’s wavering reflection on deep ocean. Still she walks with grim poise and posture, her royal robes replaced with a traveler’s attire that reminds Katara eerily of that decisive Agni Kai. They lock eyes, and the waves rock just a little higher.

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

She wakes to floorboards creaking, Aku’s muffled hiss as she bumps into the dining room counter. There’s a distinct click of a lock, an agonizingly slow creak of the door as someone tries to silence her sneaking out only to prolong the sound she makes. Only when it stops does Katara sigh and get up. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes and tamping down a yawn, she steps outside.

Despite the heat wave indicative of Fire Nation weather, Ember Island’s mornings are surprisingly chilly. It’s still dark outside, the sun a sliver of pink beyond the horizon. Katara expects to find Aku fooling around before quickly returning home as the temperature gets to her. What she doesn’t expect is to find her at the edge of the ocean, practicing katas with a single-minded intensity that she hasn’t seen since Zuko joined their group during the war.

She clears her throat, notices Aku’s breath hitch, like she’d been surprised. The girl looks at her with a wide expression. “Good morning, Auntie Katara.”

As if she has done nothing wrong waking up and causing a racket at the crack of dawn. Katara clicks disapprovingly. “Kya and the others are asleep.” You should be too.

“Can’t.” Aku says. She draws her arms and legs toward her body, lowering and exhaling and relaxing at the conclusion of her kata. The entire move is precise, not a hair out of place. “It’s a firebender thing.”

Firebenders rise with the sun, Katara knows. They get their power from its rays, just like how her blood thrums a little bit stronger, her movements a little more fluid, under the waxing of the moon. What she doesn’t consider is how it affects their sleeping schedule.

No wonder she never sees Zuko asleep in the mornings.

“Well, be quieter next time, okay?” She says. Aku nods before resuming her practice. Katara sits down on the spray-soaked crags to watch.

Since the conclusion of the war, Katara’s waterbending had taken a backseat. Nowadays she mostly uses it to heal the scrapes and cuts on her children, to do the laundry. Her real waterbending (the hardening of blood against flesh, puppets straining under a master’s reins) is always - has always - centered around combat, and there is little need for that in an era of peace.

It surprises her how Aku practices without stopping—her little brow furrowing in utmost concentration—until the sun fully rises from sea to sky. If Aang had been this disciplined at this age, he’d have defeated Ozai before the start of summer. Occasionally she breathes, little tongues of flame leaping off her palms, her mouth, weaving fiery blue filigree in the shadowed dawn.

“Were you cold out there?” Katara asks, when the air starts heating up and they are on their way back to the villa. “Do you do this every day?”

“Um.” Aku looked perplexed. “No and...yes? All firebenders have an inner fire, which they have to maintain so it won’t die or get out of control.

"Mine keeps me warm, I guess. We practice katas every morning so we don’t accidentally burn something or someone.”

For such a destructive element, Aku’s explanation hinges a lot on precision and control. Perhaps that is why they need it, Katara thinks. “Do you like firebending?”

“Mhm.” A turtlecrab pops out of the sand, and Aku stops to observe as it burrows back inside. “Mommy always says that bending is a gift. Something that should be used to its fullest extent.”

Of course Azula would say that. “And what about you?”

“I don’t think it’s a gift.” The house is still silent and dark as they enter, the three other inhabitants soundly sleeping away. When Katara closes her eyes, she can feel the pull of her element, Aku smoldering softly by her side. “I think it’s a part of who you are, as a person, I mean. When you neglect it, you’re neglecting part of yourself too.”

Aku gives her one last smile, the ripe innocence of a child, then heads back to her room with the floorboards creaking behind her.

The next morning, Katara rises with the sun and leaves for the seaside.

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

When it comes to her daughter’s appearance, Azula has clearly gotten the upper hand. Aku looks aristocratic: pointed nose, tapering chin, pale porcelain skin. The only outward resemblance to Sokka is her hair. Instead of jet black locks, Aku’s are dark and wavy, like the seas her father had once called home. 

Sometimes Katara sees snippets of her brother in Aku’s mannerisms. How she seamlessly segues from a noble strut to stumbling over nothing, how she demands “scientific proof and evidence” when accused of not eating her vegetables, how she inhales information like it is going out of style, how she seems to eat more than Bumi, Kya, and Tenzin combined. 

There are times when Aku is just Aku. Her demureness is all Azula with none of the underlying malice. Instead she’s hesitant, almost shy. Asks permission for almost everything she did. Speaks formally, and only formally, to Katara and her children untilasw Bumi decided to ask about her adventures with Uncle Sokka. She is—as Katara discovered accidentally, when she’d seen her sketching the sea on a notepad—an excellent artist. Katara has no idea who she gets that from. Certainly not Sokka, that’s for sure. 

Her children are already familiar with the Fire Nation princess, having been babysat together quite a few times. Back when Tenzin was too young to bring to the Air Nomads, when Katara had actually accompanied Aang during his excursions around the world.   

Tenzin is more wary than anything. Katara could distinctly remember Aku being there for his birth, but they never had the chance to bond as much as her other kids, what with Tenzin constantly being out with Aang. His father’s absence is clearly stinging; he’s more stiff than usual, takes his glider to coast the drafts first thing in the morning and doesn't return until dusk.

To Bumi, Aku is another playmate he can rope into playing with. As the sole non-bender of his family, he practically idolizes his Uncle Sokka. Aku soaks up the attention, telling (probably embellished, definitely exaggerated) tales of his conquests, later acting them out with theatrical flourish. She’s even carved out a replica of his boomerang out of driftwood, which now rests on Bumi’s bedside when he sleeps. 

Kya is immediately taken to her. The girls both love to read, spending hours upon hours on the couch while Bumi and Tenzin play on the beach, curling up against each other with a battered book propped up between them. When not reading, she leads Aku around a tour of their villa and the surrounding beach, pointing out little pools and deltas she uses to practice her waterbending. Aku is fascinated, and on nights when Katara is too tired to enforce the curfew, the shoreline roils with flame-touched waves and steam. 

Aku’s flames still give Katara a bitter taste in her throat, the pain of a could-be scar blooming against her chest. She remembers being at the receiving end of two pointed fingers, blue fraying at the edges, the same fingers her brother later kisses at his wedding. Aang is twelve years old again, wrapped in her arms; Zuko is seizing uncontrollably, the world is at war.

But this girl, the result of their union, is not born in war, has never carried the wounds or shed the tears or bore the frigid chains against metal grate bars. Just like Zuko shouldn’t be blamed for the deeds of his forefathers, Aku never asked for her parents’ histories. 

Somehow, watching her stumble in the sand, Katara finds it easier to forgive every day. 

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

“It’s funny,” she murmurs, “Daddy laughs more to strangers than he does to Mommy, and Mommy acts better to officials I know she hates than she does to Daddy."

"But when they’re alone with me, Daddy can frown and yell all he wants and Mommy can throw fits and cry. And I’m glad. To be part of that. It means they trust me with their weaknesses, in a way.” And perhaps there’s a quiet strength in that too.

Aku reaches over to grab Katara's hand (the girl's skin is gritty with clinging sand, soft with an innocence her aunt’s never had; Katara wonders if she’s ever been burnt before) and their fingers touch with silent truce. "I trust you too, Auntie Katara."

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

Bending is an art. Aku performs it with the steady tenacity of a wolf-warrior, an ice-dodger at the prow of a sailboat. Energy is never lost, only converted. Even firebenders must give to take. 

[superrobotmonkeyteamramblingsgo]

A Defining Moment

Summary: A hero wants to know what is threatening his home and friends. An alchemist wants to have a chance to help. And a Veron Mystic just wants one moment to share her burden with another. But the road to hell, and the Skeleton King, are paved with good intentions A/N: Some backstory for my OC’s Pheena and Flora, as well as showing my theories about how having an eldritch abomination seal in its core would affect Shuggazoom. Also, here is an explanation for why its ‘Sparks’ here when I normally write it as ‘Sprx’ elsewhere.

~

Captain Shuggazoom may have left all matters scientific, magical, and otherworldly to his friends, but that didn’t mean he was stupid. He did have a city to protect, and more often than not that was on his own. Sure it was always great when his friends were able to pitch in, and the Alchemist’s inventions were always a boon, but a tool could only get you so far. He had to rely on his wits, instinct, and experience to make the most out of his friend’s help.

And then there was his life as Clayton Carrington, where he had to use his smarts to appear as dumb as he did. It was a balancing act, playing the part of airhead playboy while also subtly manipulating his handlers so that his family’s company and wealth were being used how he wanted them to. He had long since learned how to anticipate people’s behaviors, and how to act so that they would react in the way he wanted. It may not be like the volumes of facts and physics and what not Pheena and the Alchemist knew, but it was intelligence all the same and the price he paid for ensuring that Captain Shuggazoom stayed as far away from Clayton Carrington as possible.

But it meant that he knew how to read people. And pattern recognition was an important skin in both sides of his life.

He observed and these were the facts that didn’t escape his notice: Delpheena just so happened to get leave from the Varon Mystics at the same time as a monster attack. But it wasn’t a normal monster attack, the result of his enemy releasing some beast on the city to accomplish their goals. Because if that was the case, the monsters would be targeting the city. Instead, these beasts always focused on someplace away from the city. It was places like desolated quarries that weren’t even used for mining anymore, an island out in the middle of nowhere that was barren save a ring of stone pillars, and a temple hidden among the jungle the Alchemist also lived in.

That one was literally too close to the Alchemist’s base for comfort. Attacks on the city were on thing, because more often than not Clayton Carrington was there and could easily slip out for Captain Shuggazoom to appear. But even at his fastest, it still took him a while to get to the Alchemist’s. Sure, his friend was a great wielder of magic and machines, but he also had a troop of baby monkeys to look after as well, not to mention whatever else was lurking in the Shuggazoom-forshaken foliage.

Something was going on, and it may not be threatening his city directly, but it was threatening his friends and that was enough for him.

Especially when they didn’t even become aware of the beast until they discovered Pheena was missing, and when the Alchemist was able to track her down, there was the beast, with her glowing green sword through its heart.

She had greeted them like it was any other time, like it was routine to meet each other among the corpse of a slain beast.  Or she tried, but it was hard to ignore the surrounding, the dark sludges dusting her uniform, or even how tired she was behind the façade of normalcy she tried to maintain.

He didn’t say anything, allowing his thoughts to stew as she babbled (with more effort and pauses to catch her breath than normal) about whatever caught her fancy, the Alchemist occasionally chipping in with his two cents so there would be some semblance of a conversation

Because here it was again, the way she tried to downplay it and wave it off as nothing to worry about, only to try way too hard. She only seem to genuinely relax once they were back to the Alchemist’s lab and she was playing with his troop of monkeys.

He leaned against a wall, just watching how genuine her smile became and some of the exhaustion left her shoulders as she let them crawl and climb over her. Even Mandarin, the oldest who usually preferred to hang back and observe, approached her as he and Antauri played with the draped edge of her cloak.  She especially perked up when Flora, the smallest and youngest of them, woke up and wanted to be cuddled by her.

Maybe that was why he finally felt time was right to speak.

“Sucks how your leave is always interrupted by monster attacks.”

“Yeah, my luck has just been so bad lately. I don’t know why I’ve been so unlucky, but at least I have my good luck charm here” Sparks chirped in response, and she giggled. “Isn’t that right, Lucky?”” She giggles as she takes Spark’s hands into her own and shakes them in rhythm with her chant. “Lucky, lucky monkey, good luck charm!” 

Sparks squealed in delights with her, and from her lap Flora chirped and reached her hands out to their clasped ones.

She use to do something similar with her siblings, way back when they were kids. Whenever she was babysitting them and a serious issue came up, she would quickly change the subject with a silly song or joke or some other distraction. Anything to distract from the things she didn’t want them to think about.

That was fine when she was babysitting her siblings, but not now as adults. Pheena was a year older than him and the Alchemist and never let them catch up to her. When they were kids, a year meant so much more and did make things different for her. She was the first to double digits, new schools, and graduations. She was even the first to leave Shuggazoom when that Master Zan recruited her into the Varon Mystics. But as they aged and that year became more negligible, she still refused to let them close the gulf. He and the Alchemist had caught up to her, but she never let them in. 

“Well, I’ve been getting pretty lucky myself lately,” At that, she turned to him to stare enough that he caught what he just implied. “Get your mind out of gutter, I mean that things have been going well in both my heroic and civilian life. I’m sure it could help counter your own bad luck, so I’m open to assisting you however you can.”

“Of course that is what you meant Mr. Shuggazoom’s most eligible bachelor,” She chuckled, but it was forced, “But what if instead my bad luck ends up taking over your good luck? Then you or the city could get hurt?” She shook her head and looked him in the eye for the first time the entire evening. “No, its better if I’m still on my own and you keep doing your own thing. So Shuggazoom’s golden boy doesn’t have to worry about little old me, okay.”

He frowned but she just kept staring, trying to hammer the point home without speaking. She only let up when Flora began to climb out of her lap, trying to steady onto her feet and walk over to the rest of the monkeys. Sparks was still by her lap, as was Otto who poked at the nearby Gibson to look his way. Nova, ever adventures, had climbed onto Pheena’s shoulders while were still a playing with her cloak.

He had to smile at the scene, especially how Sparks reached out to help Flora as she tried to steady her stance, Nova chirping encouragement, and Otto clapping his hands. They really were amazing creatures and every time he visited it was a treat to see them grow and develop. Gibson always hung around the Alchemist lab, Otto tried to get his hands on his gadgets, and Nova took to imitating his fighting stances from the battle clips they watched. Antauri had even begun mimicking their lotus positions during meditation!

If he wasn’t so busy, in both facets of his life, he would be severely tempted to ask the Alchemist if he could keep one. He wouldn’t mind the company when he had to be away in the city. Maybe he could ask the Alchemist about it…

Flora slipped, but Pheena quickly had a hand under her belly to catch her. “Don’t worry, everything is okay.” She said with just enough emphasis his way that he knew she wasn’t talking to just the monkeys.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t devolve into arguments. “Well, I have to get going. Got things to do and people to see. Will I get we get a chance to meet up again before you head back?”

“Probably not,” And for once there was a break, a genuine gleam of sadness to her eyes before she fixed it away, “I’ll be heading back to Karaladol once I’m done saying goodbyes to Patches and the monkeys. The masters will want an update about what I’ve been getting underfoot about.”

“Before you leave, I want to show you something I’ve been working on Captain,” Spoke up the Alchemist, who had otherwise blended into the background of the lab and their conversation, “Would you be fine with watching the monkeys while I’m gone Pheena?”

“Of course,” She laughed as the monkeys tried to fill her lap, now empty since she was holding Flora. It was a good thing she was being overwhelmed with the cute, otherwise she might have caught the look that was shared between her two friends. Or that they were walking not towards the Alchemist’s lab, but the secluded hallway that led to the front door exit.

She also didn’t see how Captain Shuggazoom let out a huff. “She’s hiding something,” He said, his frustration venting out through gritted teeth.

The Alchemist nodded. “She is.”

“Do you have any idea what it could be? I figured that it’s probably related to the monster attacks but that is as far as I got.”

“I have some theories, but nothing concrete.”

He frowned as he ran a hand through his hair, as if it would stimulate his brain to come up with a solution. “Do you want to try talking to her about it? You’re better with this spiritual stuff than I am, so you’ll understand it more than me anyway.”

“I doubt she’ll be more open with me, but I can try. I do have some questions for her about the Power Primate that might help illuminate some things.”

And probably would involve things Captain Shuggazoom couldn’t even begin to understand, but he was use to that now.  The Alchemist and Pheena would deal with esoteric magics and spirits, while he would always be here, protecting Shuggazoom and the home they could return to.

“Best of luck to you then, old friend.” Captain Shuggazoom put his helmet back on, but before slipping the cover, he turned towards the front of the hallway to shout. “I’m heading out now, Pheena, see you next time!”

“See you then, Goldie!” Her voice, somewhat muffled by the distance, replied. His helmet’s screen then slide into place, his cape fluttering behind him as he walked out the lab.

(But there wouldn’t be a next time for the two of them)

-

The Alchemist got into the habit of always makings sure the front door slide into place when Captain Shuggazoom left. It was suppose to automatically close, but there was always a chance of a bug or leaf or some other factor interfering with the mechanism. The Captain would probably say his magic could handle any creature that dared to walk in, but his biggest fear was more of what could get out.

His monkeys were at a precocious age, all save the youngest steady on their feet and ready to explore. He had plans that would allow them to stand up against the threats around their home, but that was for the future. For now they were small and curious and needed the front door to stay closed.

It also gave him an excuse to take a moment to think about what he and the Captain discussed, and how he would approach Pheena.

There was the blessing that the time made for a good conversation segue-way. “It’s almost feeding time for them again.” He said as he returned to the monkey covered pile that was his other childhood friend.

“Alright,” She laughed as she careful stood up and gently pried the monkeys off of her. “You heard him, it snack time!”

Pheena still kept Flora in her arms, so he handed her a bottle. The littlest monkey was doing better, and able to eat some solid food, but she still needed some formula supplements. Pheena happily took to the time-consuming task of bottle feeding her, allowing him to focus on the rest of his monkey troop.

He sat down a plate of fruit, vegetables, and other snacks. There was a cascade of squeals as they clamored over the plate, Mandarin trying to ensure some semblance of order by making sure no one monkey hoarded all of one type. But the afternoon playing made him as hungry as his younger peers, so he gave up at a point to stuff his face from the selection of citrus. And then, with bellies full, they all let out a yawn, one by one in turn, and curled up in a file of fluff and fur to sleep.

The Alchemist reached down to clean up the scraps of peels and rinds left on the floor and turned around with the now empty plate towards Pheena, only to find her gone.

Frowning, he placed the plate on one of the many tables that littered his lab, reviewing where she could have gone. She still had Flora, he thought as he put a blanket over the rest of his sleeping monkeys, so he was pretty sure that she hadn’t returned to Karaladol behind his back.

Or at least he would like to think she wouldn’t, but she became more of a stranger with each visit

There was a change in the atmosphere, a slight shifting in the aura of the area that his magical training let him pick up on. It was the same feel when Pheena used her Power Primate abilities and was coming from another room.

Pheena was there, the empty bottle discard off to the side and a sleeping Flora clutched to her chest. Her eyes were glowing white-green, bright enough that he couldn’t see her blue irises but it did seem that she wasn’t focusing on something in the room.

“Pheena?”

She gasped as the glow subsided, her irises reappearing as she turned to him. “Oh, it’s just you Patches! Sorry, I just wanted a quieter place to feed our little Sprout.”

“That didn’t seem to be the only reason.”

She shrugged, “Just scanning the area and practicing my technique. It’s one thing to read a single life force, but it’s another, harder thing to be able to spread it out.”

“And the Veron Mystics taught you that. Did they teach you anything else?”

“Oh, just things that I don’t think you’ll understand.”

He walked up to her, towering over her even with her standing upright. “Try me.”

There was a flicker of something on her face before she smiled. “Oh Patches, trust me, it not something you’ll be interesting in knowing-”

“If it troubles you, of course I want to know.” She backed off at her interruption, “Pheena, Clayton and I both know that something is going on. It’s just not these monster attacks, but your behavior as well. We know you’re trying to hide something from us.”

“I’m not-“

“We know you too well. And it’s because of that we are worried for you. Especially because I know something is up. I can tell with my magic, that you are battling some force far bigger than petty crooks and super villains.”

She was stricken silent, the smile slipping from her face as she stared at him. There was a gaunt paleness to her skin, and combined with the dark coloring of her Veron Mystic clothing, it made her look deathly ill.

The Alchemist’s heart ached with a need to help. He was all too use to being resigned to the sidelines. He wasn’t born with gifts the way Clayton and Pheena were, he didn’t have super strength and flight like Clayton, or read mind like Pheena. All he had was his mind, an ability to consume and absorb the offer conflicting knowledge of magic and science into a harmonious mix.

And it was through knowledge that he was able to do good, even if it wasn’t directly. It was why he labored so long with Maezono and Takeuchi to create the Super Robot, a prototype for future fighting machines that could be used for good. It was why he happily made weapons and tools to assist Captain Shuggazoom in defending the city.  It was why he had such big plans for his monkey team.

It was why he wanted more than anything to know what weight Pheena carried on her shoulders.

He bend down, putting his hands on her shoulder as they stood face to face. “Please Pheena, we’re your friends.  Let us help you, let me help you, even if it as a sympathetic ear for the burdens you bear.”

The silence seemed as heavy as she took in his words, looking away from him mismatched stare. He found himself holding his breath, waiting in anticipation for her answer.

“…they’re called the Dark Ones.” She finally said, looking at him with a steel to her eyes.

“The Dark Ones,” He repeated, mulling over the name. “That sounds familiar, I think that I saw some references to them in some of my arcane texts.”

“You probably have, they’re as old as the galaxy. They remnants of the first evil that threatened all life and existence.”

“And the monsters are trying to complete that goal?”

“No, the demons and cultists are trying to free them, or at least the surviving offspring, no matter the cost to the planet.”

“The planet?” There was a flip of his stomach as a horrid thought crossed his mind. “Pheena, where are they imprisoned?”

“…it seems you have figured it out already,” She said, in a tone barely above a whisper, “But to confirm your suspicion, they lay dormant in the cores of planets, and Shuggazoom is one of them.”

She turned away, her eyes directed at the floor but peering at something far below it. She left out a short, bitter laugh. “You know, I always felt that there was something within the planet. It felt like there was something just crawling under the surface, trying to burrow its essences into every part of the planet.” Her left hand still held Flora, but her right one was free to dig its nails into her left arm, as if trying to claw at a worm underneath her skin. “That’s why the Veron Mystics recruited me, because I can so easily sense them.”

He put his hand on hers, gently pulling it off from the arm and giving it a comforting squeeze. It broke whatever trance she was in, as she turned back to the Alchemist and took a deep breath. “That’s why the planet gets targeted so much, why Shuggazoom always had a protector in the past even before Goldie. They may not be actively seeking it, but its evil subconsciously calls to them and they respond. Normally, that’s no big deal, as freeing it isn’t their main objectively, but lately-”

“But lately there have been one’s going after it.”

She nodded. “The powers of the Dark Ones grows in their dimensions, and with it their influence in ours. Now they have dedicated followers that are trying to tip the balance of the universe in their favor by releasing the ones sealed in the cores.”

“But if the Veron Mystics recruited you because of them, then that must mean that have their own ways of dealing with it.”

“They do, and I’ve become quiet adapt at sealing their evil, but it’s just exhausting because of the size of their forces and areas we have to defend. Take Shuggazoom, where we have three main points of concern.”

He immediately knew the place. “The temple, the island, and the mining pit.”

She nodded. “Right, but we already were able to control most of it. The Arcane Island is supposed to be a portal to their home dimensions, but we reinforced it so that it is pretty much useless. Nothing can come out of it, and while they could get in, that’s only if they have some Power Primate to bypass the seals. Same thing with the temple, it’ll be years before they can work around my wards. The only one we’re having trouble with is the mining pit.” She frowned. “It’s not a means to summon or empower the Dark Ones, but a way towards the weak point of the prison.”

“And I take it you don’t know how fix that.” 

“The ruins on the island and the temple are relatively recent compared to how long the Dark Ones have been imprisoned. For now, all we can do is to try to manage the threats.”

There was a soft cooing sound, and Pheena looked down to where Flora was waking up in her arms. She let out a small yawn before bleary red eyes looked up to her and smiled.

Pheena returned the smile and gave the monkey an affection pat on the head, fingers running down to the pink ribbon tied around her. “I spend so much time sensing and reading the minds of those dedicated to evil and death, that it is such a relief to be here. Being with your monkeys, just being able to bask in their life and innocents, has been a bright spot in all this. It was especially wonderful tending to Sprout and watching her grow up.” She sighed, reluctantly pulling Flora away from her chest, despite the protesting cries the monkey made, and holding her out to him. “She can keep the ribbon, consider it my way of thanking her.”

It was only semantics that made Flora ‘his’, more out of convenience that he was already use to caring for young monkeys.

But it was Pheena who had found Flora among the wreckage left in the wake of the beast’s destruction, cradled by the bodies of her parents who had sacrificed their life to protect their young daughter. It was Pheena who had not let their sacrifice go to waste by bringing Flora to him, otherwise he didn’t think she would have let him or Clayton know she was even on the planet. And Pheena was the one who did most of the demanding one-on-one care Flora required, allowing him more time to see to the rest of the monkeys. He had doubted her chances of surviving, but she persevered, probably because of the extra attention Pheena gave her.

From the very first moment, from being the finder and the found, that was a bond put in place between Pheena and Flora. Pheena didn’t try to show such blatant favoritism, but it was clear once she tied her old pink ribbon around Flora, trying to justify it under the flimsy excuse of ‘being too cute.’

He really shouldn’t do this. Flora was entering a precarious stage of development. As she became more mobile, she would need social interaction with monkeys of her species. The socialization would be crucial to her development, teaching her certain behavioral cues and rules. Who knows how her temperament would turn out without it?

But he kept thinking of the uncensored joy and peace that Pheena always had with Flora, and his decision was made. “Do you want to take her back with you?”

Pheena looked like she was about to fall over. “What? Patches, are you serious?”

I am,” He nodded, pushing her hands and Flora back towards her. “You already showed that you can take care of her, since you’re basically her primary caretaker already. Flora’s going to still need more individual attention, and I have six other monkeys to take care of. You’ll be able to better give her the attention she needs, unless you don’t think you will?”

“No, no, I can!” She hugged Flora again, lighting up like a kid who was told they could get a puppy. “Most of my time on Karaladol is spent sensing for Dark Ones, meditating, studying, all that stuff that will leave me with plenty of time to care for her. And she is such a good girl that I’m sure the masters will be fine with her tagging along with me.” Pheena held Flora up, resting their foreheads together. “Even stuffy Master Zan wouldn’t be able to say no to such a cute face!”

Flora chirped in response, getting a genuine, happy laugh out of Pheena.

The Alchemist had to smile at the display. He could help Pheena this way, he thought as they went about packing up supplies for Flora and going over instructions just in case she fell sick again. 

But his mind was already working on another solution, recalling what he learned about other dimensions and interacting with them. He could make it so they could better monitor the Dark Ones, and if what Pheena said was true about the connection between them and the villains that threaten Shuggazoom, then this could even help Captain Shuggazoom as well in the long run.

In time, he was sure he could make it so that such evil would never be such a threat again.