#this idea is the most recent one. I made a full fledge fic out of this and another prompt😭

[starry-nights12]

"Precious"

One Word Prompt-Closed (Jinx's POV)

TW:Murder-Suicide, talk of death, Jinx expressing positive views about dying

Ekko's eyes trialed from me to the pin of the chomper around my finger.

This was the only way things could go back to how they used to. The damage we have done to each other over the years could never be fixed.

This way we could be free of our past and be happy

I didn't stick it onto him. He has the choice to stay or leave me like everyone always does.

Vi had abandoned us.

She left me on that night of the canery and she left him for dead to take care of her beloved demon.

Yet he didn't move or try to run away. His eyes clouded with tears until it was raining on my face.

When everyone else was gone it was only us. We grew up to resent and despise each other. We both went our separate ways and he loathed me for not following him.

For the first time in seven years;

His tender, brown eyes stared into mine with something I always longed for. A treasure that I could only have in my memories brought to reality.

He was looking at me like I was precious. 

It's what I missed from him. It was all I ever wanted and I had to die to receive it.

I swallowed the bitter taste of the blood I wanted to cough up to prevent it from ruining everything.

When we were kids, I could confide in him and he was a shoulder to cry on when my siblings overwhelmed me. He was the boy I discreetly gazed at as he looked over his blueprints.

He encouraged me and believed in my inventions just like Vi did. In return, I drew hearts over our initials and drew us holding hands and kissing in my diary.

The sweet, pretty boy had become a strong and most beautiful man at twenty. The sad, pitiful little girl had transformed into a sadistic, terrifying woman at eighteen.

I'm not afraid of death. We all die eventually, so there's no point of fearing the inevitable.

But I rather die by my grenade than have my ex-childhood friend I still cared for kill me.

He cradled the back of my head, he lowered himself on top of me until he whispered in my ear, "I love you."

My eyes widened and I temporarily stopped breathing. A great tremor took over me as I began to sob.

The questions I wanted to ask had gotten caught in my throat:

Why?

For how long?

What's the matter with you?

How could you possibly love me after everything we did to each other?

Who do you love? Powder or Jinx?

I didn't want to stew over the last question.

This was going to be our last moment together and it was perfect. It was everything I ever dreamed of.

It's only us now.

It's all we need.

We'll be together again. We'll be able to finally be happy in the afterlife.

I craved so badly to kiss him. To finally experience what his mouth would feel like over mine. I wanted to caress his face and run my fingers through his dreadlocks.

But we didn't have any time. The chomping had gotten louder and we only had seconds left.

Instead, I wrapped my arms around him tightly, my hand clutched in his hair. "I love you too,"

A flash of a pink cloud blinded me. The blast from the explosion covered our bodies in searing heat.

[silent-sanctum]

hello mijin😀!!! i have this headcannon that both jotaro and kakyoin are really good at ballroom dancing but don’t really show it but on their hs graduation day the reader convinces the pair to do a dance with her (“If you love me then you’ll do it” situation with jotaro because he was embarrassed but loves the reader too much to say no)

so on their graduation, after everyone was called up and stuff, the headmaster announces smth like “and now we have l/n y/n kakyoin noriaki and kujo jotaro for …” kinda thing.

ok now i’m rambling but i hope you get what i mean🙏

awww the idea's cute 💕 Jotaro having to dance ballroom with his lover and best friend is something I never thought I needed 💕 Hmm though I'm gonna be honest, I don't know how to write this as a full fledged fic as I usually do since you've already provided the story 😅, but I'm gonna give you a cute drabble instead! Also made some small tweaks to your request here and there.

Hope you enjoy! 💌

May I Have This Dance - Jotaro x Reader

"Hey Kakyoin!"

The cherry-haired student turned to you with a friendly smile. "Oh hey Y/N, is something up?"

"Did you know we have to dance at our graduation ceremony?" You said, almost whining. "And here I thought we're just gonna go on stage, take our diplomas, and throw our hats as all students do during graduation events."

Kakyoin chuckled. "Yeah, I did know about the ballroom dance. I was told ahead of time."

"You aren't... opposed to the idea of dancing in front of multiple people?

"Well, there are other pairs that will dance with us. Besides," he smirked placing his finger under his chin. "We do know how to dance to ballroom music-"

"No shot! You're kidding, right?!" You exclaimed. "And... we?"

"Jotaro and I."

A pause.

"Jotaro too?!" Your boyfriend of a year. Who never shared any interest to dancing nor has he looked like the type to. Yet his friend proclaimed that he just so happened to be good at it.

"You didn't know? Ah well to be fair, he's good at it recently," Kakyoin said. "Apparently, he overheard faculty saying about planning a ballroom dance weeks prior and he asked me to help him with some pointers."

"Guy's a fast learner. Got to give him that."

"Why though? He doesn't even like fancy stuff like that."

Your friend sent a knowing stare and a raised brow at your direction. Your cheeks flared at the implied answer. For you.

"S-Still... I have to see it for myself."

And you would as time passed and your batch have just graduated. It was evening and the post-ceremony party was at hand. Students have opted to switch their academic robes with cocktail dresses of different styles and suits aimed to impress.

Following the dress code, you wore your finest dress that may or may not have let the bypassing teenagers turn their heads at you. Though, none have went past staring when your boyfriend stood intimidating beside you in his formal attire without his hat.

Kakyoin joined you two shortly after his arrival and just in time as the MC occupied the podium, welcoming the newly graduates and laying out a speech about what's to lie ahead.

Then the awaited ballroom dance happened.

Everyone who knew the steps were called to the center, students in glee as they pulled their partners to the spotlight.

You glanced at Jotaro, who was very much hiding most of his blushing face behind his hand, brows furrowed and arms crossed. "Come on~ I know you know some steps." You nudged his elbow. "If you love me, then you'll show it to me~"

He grumbled something under his breath but couldn't pick up any words due to the music playing in the background.

You weren't complaining since you knew how much public performances were not his forte. But you did have a plan on how to bring him out of his shell.

The music would change three times during this segment- one that started with a generally energetic party song danced individually, then switched to a song that remained it's sappy upbeat tune where the dance is now done in pairs, and the last would be soft and sentimental, dedicated to the pairs that would dance to how one would interpret a "ballroom dance".

Majority would join in the first two, leaving the last to a handful of duos. Mostly couples or close friends.

This is where you joined in.

The moment the 2nd song faded out, Kakyoin lent out a hand for you to take and casting your boyfriend one last coy smile, you joined the cherry-haired to the center.

And your dance with him went as well as you expected. Given how few were dancing to this part, you could feel the eyes of the other men dancing stare at you, wanting to be your partner. But you didn't pay them any attention as you focused on coordinating your steps with Kakyoin.

"Do you think it'll work?" You muttered.

"Trust me it will," he replied in a second.

Just then, the music swelled as the chorus played out. The guys had to twirl their partners as a transition to pairing with another. And Kakyoin did just that- raised his arm to allow you to turn away from him and to another.

Given how every other duo seemed to compress closer to you and Kakyoin, anticipating for your hand, you had to tell yourself to accept someone else if it wasn't the one you weren't expecting it to be.

Just as you held the nearest hand and collided with your new partner, the eyes that greeted you weren't the violet colors of your friend nor was it the dark browns of the other men.

But the aquamarine hues of your lover.

A wide smile graced your face as Jotaro guided you through the motions of the dance, your left hand placed on his shoulder while his right laid on your waist. "You did come after all."

"You think I won't get annoyed by how many of our batch mates are eyeing you like meat?" He said with a sigh. "Also the noisy ones started talking me."

You chuckled just as the both of you spun in a graceful circle. Through your peripherals, nearly everyone in the room forgot about the other duos. All eyes watched their infamous delinquent and popular darling perform their ballroom dance in a mix of awe and envy.

Kakyoin stood by in the side, a satisfied smirk on his face as he watched his closest friends centerstage.

"Aww was it just for those reasons?"

He clicked his tongue, shying away from your beaming gaze with the pink still present on his cheeks. "Don't play dumb. You know I practiced this whole damn thing for a reason."

"I know," you giggled as the song came to its last chorus. The grand swell of the melody prompted your boyfriend to grab your waist, lifting you up as he turned you mid-air.

The second he gently placed you down together with the calming of the music, you couldn't help but lay your head against his chest as the raven-haired swayed you along to the remaining minutes.

"Your practice paid off, love. You did great."

Through the applaud of the crowd, you heard Jotaro hum in acknowledgement together with lightly tightening his hand holding yours.

"I'm glad."

[thebroccolination]

Is it okay if you go into greater detail about Win's personality, fears, and insecurities?

OKAY SO.

Win's my favorite character! I love him deeply! And I've been enjoying his character growth in Between Us more than anything.

The interesting thing about following him as a character is that there're different versions of him with similarities and differences: currently unfinished Hemp Rope, his brief appearances in UWMA, the specials, and now the ongoing main series (currently episode four).

His character in Hemp Rope is hard for me to get a read on because we only have unofficial translations and an incomplete story, so a lot of his motivations and emotional interiority are missing nuances.

Here, have the most beautiful image ever drawn of Win, taken from the Twitter account of the official Red Thread mangaka:

Meanwhile, UWMA is tricky as well because as Boun has said, he put a lot of his own personality into the performance because he didn't have a layered character to study. He kind of created his own version of Win out of necessity. He only had about an hour total onscreen, and apart from his stairwell scene giving Dean advice, he didn't have much of an impact on the plot, so he wasn't a central character with a lot of detail.

That said, we got some crucial moments in his scenes with Team that helped us understand what kind of person he is.

So! When I wrote WinTeam fic over the past two and a half years, I used a composite of his characters in Hemp Rope and UWMA. The flirtatious side we see in UWMA, the nurturing side we see in Hemp Rope, etc.

The specials weren't meant to be canon, and honestly someone on here recently called them unofficial workshops, which…yes?! That's a brilliant way to think of them, I think. The feedback they got on the specials (mainly that they were portraying BounPrem more than WinTeam) probably helped them focus their performances in the main series.

So now we're seeing the main series unfold, and since Win has a full development arc to go through now, it's a lot easier for me to see all of these little nuances. He's a full-fledged, multilayered character! One of the leads! YAY FOR MY SON. <3

His core fear seems to be that he's going to be alone forever, and while he seems resigned to it in episode one, he still clearly has some hope by the fact that he's grabbed onto Team with both hands. Even though he also has no idea what to do to keep him, he wants Team.

I think he also has a craving for validation. That "Team helps Win feel wanted" from the synopsis has been an ongoing chant in my head for the past two years, and it's fascinating to see it play out onscreen. I want to see his interactions with his parents before I go too deep into analyzing anything with his family, but it's pretty telling already that no one's actually sat down with View – a sixteen-year-old – and explained what's expected of him. Not until Win did.

Win's mother seems to be the one who nurtures Wan, but then you have scenes where Wan is criticizing both of their parents when he talks to Tul and Win. (Maybe because she doesn't stand up for him strongly enough to his father?) I thought it was fascinating that Wan views Win as the favorite, but he doesn't seem to hold any serious resentment toward him. My guess is it's because of this "rule" Win apparently made up: they're equals to him. Even if their parents have chosen a favorite (unconsciously or not), Win isn't using that leverage over his brothers.

He's even enforced that same equality with food. Maybe it's a conscious or unconscious response to their parents making their favoritism obvious? Or it's just something he thinks is the right thing to do in general. I'm waiting on more scenes with his family, because right now I feel like it could be a number of things.

Basically, my dear Anon, I'm in the middle of a whole new Win Phawin analysis stage. I knew my characterization of him would change with his series, and I'm delighted by what we've gotten so far. :')

I hope this was what you were hoping for!

[greenhikingboots]

Hey Green!🤩 For the trope ask: Fake Dating, Reincarnation, Rivalry and Childhood friends. Thanks💕

Loula!! Thanks for asking. I typed up a reply on Monday and then totally forgot I never posted it. You can find the post being referenced, here. But also, I copied and pasted the important parts below. A: Love it. Spend my time combing AO3 for it. B: Like it. Not one of my bigger cravings, but it can scratch a certain itch if I’m in the right mood. C: Neutral. A good author might be able to sell it, but a bad one will kill it deader than dead. D: Not my favorite. I avoid it if I can, but it won’t necessarily put me off reading something. F: Hate it. Will immediately make me nope out of a fic. Now for the answers. - Fake Dating A! Love it! I read it and write it, and I’m so into it that it makes me go, “Gaaaaahhhhh I wish I was a better writer.” Wait. Don’t take that the wrong way. I’m not fishing for compliments. Like, I’m happy with my skill level as a hobbyist. It’s all good. But I love this trope so much I want to be able to elevate it even more, ya know? Super cute affectionate moments, but dripping with angsty uncertainty? What more could you want in life!? - Reincarnation C. Neutral. I guess? Not super confident about this answer because I haven’t read much of this trope. So I don’t know what other tropes usually get paired with it, and if it would be my jam or not. If we’re talking canon universe Jonsa, I’m all for fics that pick up right after Jon comes back to life. Like, that makes a lot of sense because that’s also around the time we expect Jon and Sansa to be reunited. Also, I went through a short stint recently of reading “Jon came back wrong” fics. And that was a lot of fun. But does that count? I’m not sure. And outside of that, I’m just not familiar enough with this trope to have a strong opinion. - Rivalry C. Neutral again. My Dramione days might be influencing me here. I once made a long post (which is probably now lost to a deactivated account) about how it’s actually not canon that Hermione *hated* Draco throughout school. I mean, sometimes he infuriated her. She slapped him. I get it. But for the most part, she had more patience for him than Harry or Ron did. She was more likely to roll her eyes and say something sarcastic than actually get mad. So I got tired of the rivalry/enemies-to-lovers trope with Dramione, especially if it emphasized being snarky childhood rivals instead of, you know… overcoming their history as an actual Death Eater and a Muggle-born witch!! Does that make sense? Like, I’ve seen too many fics that just act like their canon dynamic was different than what it really was (probably stems from more movie watchers than book readers) while also ignoring the major appeal of the ship, if you ask me. Buuuuut! Lately I’ve been spinning around some ideas that would combine fake dating and rivalry tropes for Jonsa, and that makes me like rivalry a little more than I would have said just a few days ago. Actually, calling my recent idea the rivalry trope might not be exactly right. But, like, a premise that would lead to a lot of distrust for them to navigate through while being forced to work together. That’s rivalry/enemies-to-lovers adjacent, and I like it. So that’s why I still gave it a C instead of D or E. - Childhood friends B. Like it. This trope is super sweet and I like it a lot. But compared to a lot of other popular tropes, it runs a great risk of being kind of bland in execution. So I think it needs to be paired with other fun tropes and/or strong storytelling elements to keep the tension alive. I think one of the things I really like about Jonsa is that their childhood allows for a familiarity and closeness and deep sense of caring, but not full-fledged friendship. Which means there’s still a lot of room for tension and growth between them. Love that balance.

What about you, Loula? How would you grade these tropes? I’m curious!

[restlessfandoming]

"you, my enemy" (chilumi oneshot)

Lumine must assassinate the cruel king of Snezhnaya, Ajax.

//

i could see this being turned into a full fledged fic? but for now, here is the dollar store version LOL

[Masterlist] [AO3 Link]

"you, my enemy"

“I want you to kill the king of Snezhnaya.”

Lumine’s eyes flickered to her client. “King Ajax?”

“There is only one, is there not?” the hooded man responded.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You must have the wrong person,” she said. “I do run-of-the-mill jobs. I don’t murder kings.”

“I was told you were the only mercenary who could do it.”

Lumine slid out of the bar booth. “Find someone else who is insane enough to do that. I value my life.”

The man’s arm shot out, grabbing Lumine by the wrist. She would have sliced it clean off, had the man not taken off his hood.

He had an unmistakable hue of scarlet red hair, with equally fiery eyes to match.

“You’re Diluc,” Lumine said. “The son of the slain King Ragvindr.” It’s never a good idea to get involved with royals.

His face wavered at the mention of his father. “And who was the one who murdered him?”

“King Ajax,” she answered. “That sounds like your own quest for vengeance. Not mine.”

Diluc pulled her closer. “Magic,” he whispered.

Lumine’s blood ran cold. “Magic?” she echoed hollowly.

“I’ve been trying to find the right person to do this for a long time,” he told her. “I had to do my research.”

“What does magic have to do with this?” Lumine asked, trying to keep her voice even.

“You use magic,” Diluc stated. “That’s how you’ve completed every single one of your assignments perfectly.”

Magic had been banished long ago, a witch hunt massacring any and all magic users within the land of Teyvat. Each of the seven kingdoms had decreed it, agreeing that those with magic were too powerful—a threat to the people, all people.

Ever since, the rare few born with magical powers were forced to hide away their abilities for survival. I thought Aether and I hid it well enough.

“You do this, I won’t report you to the authorities,” Diluc continued.

“What about you?” Lumine hissed. “You’re supposed to be dead with the rest of your family.” She shook off his grip. “If I report you to King Ajax, there’s no doubt I’d get a hefty reward, more than you could ever give me for murdering him.”

He pursed his lips into a thin line. “If there’s any suspicion of a magic user, what sort of action do the authorities take?”

You’re killed on the spot—no questions asked. The kingdoms didn’t want to run any risk of magic users rising up, no matter how small of a threat.

“We would be executed at the same time,” Diluc said lowly.

Shit.

Lumine sat back down in the booth, sinking into the seat, gnawing on the side of her cheek. Then, she took a deep breath in.

“You’ll give me every single piece of Mora you have,” she demanded.

Diluc’s face visibly relaxed. “Of course.” He crossed his arms. “The hidden vaults of my family are all yours: every single jewel, Mora, artifact—when you complete the job.”

Lumine’s mouth nearly watered at the prospect of all the riches.

No, she wasn’t greedy. That amount of Mora meant she and her twin brother Aether could retire from this life, this life of scraping by with the money they made from bloody bounties and assassinations. It was the only job they could do, being abandoned as children, having to learn to fend for themselves.

This one job meant she and Aether could have quiet peace until the end of their days.

She held out her hand to Diluc.

“You have a deal.”

* * *

When Lumine arrives in Snezhnaya, she expects impoverished villages, famished citizens, and cold, desecrated lands—all while this merciless, vile king sat on his throne of bones and riches.

However, what she finds are bustling streets of business and cheerful citizens. Children played freely on the streets. The kingdom was thriving.

Is this king truly as evil as the stories say?

It hadn’t been long since King Ajax had begun his crusade of conquering the entirety of Teyvat. It had started with his brutal assassination of his own ruler at the time, the slaying of the late Tsaritsa, quickly followed by his claim to the throne. Then, he had taken over the small country of Mondstadt, and Liyue fell shortly after.

Any who opposed him would face the sharp end of a blade. The stories of him on the battlefield were whispers of blood soaked garments and a wicked smile as he slaughtered soldier after soldier with no remorse.

The image of this bloodthirsty monster faded as Lumine watched these citizens move around care free, as if they were unaware of the atrocities laying under their feet committed by their dear King Ajax.

Glancing up, she could see the distant looming monument, the grandiose castle of the king, looking over the land with a watchful stone eye.

She listened intently to the conversations around her, seeking any information about this Ajax, about how to get close enough to do her job.

She always wanted the most covert way, and now even more so. This was very much her highest profile case, and if she wasn’t careful, she could potentially start wars, with her murder being the first blood.

Perhaps the best way was to become some nondescript maid, someone’s whose presence and subsequent disappearance wouldn’t be questioned by any of the king’s allies. Perhaps as a chef? She could easily poison his food and silently slip away.

How she wished Aether was here with her. He was much more a strategist than she. Unfortunately, he had taken on a different job, far away in Inazuma. They would not see each other until both of their assignments were completed.

Lumine sighed, moving down the street, in search of a bar. Drunk bastards were always the best source of information: they didn’t know how to shut their mouths. In a bar, there were no figures too suspicious, and if there were, they would quickly be forgotten within a few pints of ale.

She pushed past vendors, until she was stopped by a brunette woman in a lavender robe.

“You are not from here,” she said with a breathy smile.

Singled out already? “I’ve only just recently moved here,” Lumine lied.

“Oh? For what reasons?” the woman pressed, her long eyelashes batting as she assessed Lumine head to toe. “Work?”

“No.” What was this woman’s motive? “I’ve heard Snezhnaya is a great country to live in.”

A content, pitched sigh. “Well, since you’ve just moved here, why don’t you come work for me? Outsiders earn a pretty penny.”

Lumine stared at her. “Who are you?”

The woman smiled. “I am Ying’er. I’m in charge of a local performance troupe.” She stepped closer, and Lumine could smell her flowery perfume. “I would love to have you join us.”

“No, thank you,” Lumine told her, inching away. Sounds like a cheap cover for a brothel. “I’m not in need of a job right now.”

Ying’er pouted, but stepped back. “Alright then, sweetie.” She leaned on the doorway of her shop. “I’ll be right here if you decide to come back,” she finished with a wink.

Lumine gave a curt nod before slinking away, back to her search for a bar. She pulled the hood of her cape over her head, sticking to the shadowed walls on her walk. Do I really stick out that much here?

In the distance, she heard the subtle pounding of a drum, and watched, astonished, as the crowded streets parted straight down the middle. An eerie silence filled the previously buzzing plaza. Something was coming.

All the citizens had their heads bowed—Lumine quickly followed suit.

The booming of the drums came closer, and she heard the thunderous marching of armored boots layered into the sound. She glanced up.

There was an entourage of armored soldiers, an assortment of glistening weapons at their sides, escorting a decorated golden carriage.

King Ajax.

What was this? Was there some sort of special occasion taking place?

Much easier to find than expected.

The carriage rolled past. Lumine strained to look at the window while still keeping her head bowed.

Unfortunately, the window was curtained, a velvety red cloth obscuring any view of the king. Lumine wrinkled her nose in disappointment; she had wanted to see what she was up against.

The terrifying rumors of King Ajax never told of what he looked like. Lumine imagined a beastly figure, one with dark shaggy hair and sharp teeth, bones all jutting out in the wrong directions, filleted with raw scars all over.

The carriage continued to move past.

Could she do it? Could she use her magic to take him out right now? There certainly was a large number of people around, and all of them would be suspects; all the easier for her to get away.

However, the guards could easily murder everyone in the plaza if a perpetrator wasn’t found. And, as Ying’er so blatantly pointed out, Lumine didn’t exactly fit in with the Snezhayan citizens.

She would just have to wait. Wait for a better opportunity. Wait to learn more about King Ajax. Wait to plan the best way to kill him.

There was a rustle of murmurs as the citizens returned to their activities, the royal carriage and its guards wheeling out of sight—the air more tense than before.

Taking in a deep breath, she resumed her search.

I need a drink.

* * *

Lumine sat in the corner booth as always, the seat in the bar that could overlook the entire establishment, the place where she could easily see who entered and exited the building.

She sipped at her mug of ale: not enough to become inebriated, but just enough to take some of her stress away. She still listened intently for any utterances about King Ajax.

She kept her eye on a man who was chugging pint after pint of alcohol, complaining about his job, his kids, his wife.

Maybe he’ll complain about his king as well.

“God, I miss Mondstadt,” the man sighed.

Lumine raised a brow. Someone from the conquered land of Mondstadt? He should definitely harbor some resentment for King Ajax.

“Careful there,” the bartender muttered. “The king will have your tongue if you speak ill of him.”

The drunkard scoffed. “The king ain’t here, is he? Too busy with his parties and parades to ever come to a hole-in-the-wall bar.”

The bartender shrugged, silently wiping a glass.

“C’mon,” the man continued. “You don’t think it’s weird how he always invites those performers to the castle? What a dramatic man.” A hiccup. “You think he beds all of them?”

“Probably. Lots of women would want to sleep with the king”

“See, King Ragvindr never did things like that.” He laid his head on the counter. “A modest man. Genuinely cared about his people.”

“King Ajax cares for us. He provides—he’s made Snezhnaya wealthier than ever.”

“Hmph. Is that why he murders people in cold blood? Remember that man that got executed in the street for not bowing to him?”

“Just listen to him, and you’ll be fine.”

Lumine slid out of her booth, making her way to the exit, to a certain brunette woman with a lavender robe.

He likes performers.

A plan started to bubble in her mind as she walked the streets to Ying’er’s shop.

She would slip into the castle with the performance troupe. She would feign illness, seemingly leaving early, when in actuality, she would hide until all the guests had left. King Ajax would retire for the night, alone—and that’s when she would strike.

Lumine smiled, just a bit, confidence coming to her now that she knew what to do.

Her and Aether’s life of freedom felt like a breath away.

* * *

“You’ve certainly improved quite a lot,” Ying’er said, sauntering into Lumine’s quarters.

Lumine set her lyre down. “Guess I’m a quick learner.”

It had been a few weeks since Lumine had arrived in Snezhnaya, and became one of Ying’er performers. She had decided to learn an instrument—the lyre—while staying with Ying’er and the rest of the performers at the hostess’ establishment. She preferred it over becoming a poet or dancer.

Ying’er was right: many people came to watch Lumine sit prettily on stage and play her lyre—her face painted with make-up, and her body adorned with beautiful robes and gowns.

All the while, Lumine anxiously awaited the king’s invitation to their performance troupe. He had invited different groups all over town, though not Ying’er’s yet.

Was this plan a failure? Where was that damned man’s invitation—

“Is that what I think it is?” Lumine asked, eyeing the embellished envelope in her boss’ hand.

Ying’er hummed in affirmation. “The king has finally invited our group to perform at a party tonight.”

Finally. “What an honor,” Lumine said with a smile.

“Very much so.” Ying’er put her hand under Lumine’s chin, examining her face. “Yes...I will have you dressed in our best garments and make-up.”

The woman smiled. “After all, you are our pretty little star.”

* * *

The carriage ride to the castle was filled with the girls’ giggles and whispers, how they wished for the king to whisk them away into a life of riches and royalty, to be his beloved first wife. Lumine kept a hand pressed against her leg—ensuring the dagger hidden under her heavy robes wouldn’t fall out.

She didn’t like to get messy with such a close ranged weapon—she would usually just use her magic from a distance—but she wasn’t going to take a chance if something were to go awry.

As they neared the castle, everyone burst into gasps, admiring the massive stone structure. The excitement doubled as the dozens of other carriages came into view as well.

This is going to be one very extravagant party.

Before she knew it, Lumine was sitting in the great hall, along with the rest of the party goers, awaiting the king’s arrival. She saw the empty throne at the very front of the room, raised on a marble platform, his rightful place above his subjects.

A fanfare of brass instruments blared. The king is here.

The room collectively stood, bowing their heads as the king’s personal guards filed in. Lumine quirked her head to look for King Ajax.

Oh.

The king was not a hideous looking beast at all.

In fact, he was quite the opposite.

He walked in, tall stature carrying an air of importance (and arrogance) on his shoulders with a billowing crimson red cloak, a broad grin plastered on his face. He was young, exactly around Lumine’s age.

He had reddish-brown hair framing his face, locks that glittered like gold in the light of the room, and his eyes were like vortexes—deep whirlpools of the bluest ocean water. All his features were sharp, upturned, like a cunning fox waiting contently to trap its prey.

She watched as he made his way up to his throne, a sickening anxiety spreading through her limbs.

Lumine had never killed anyone so close in age to her—it had always been older men and women. And, of course, she had never found herself attracted to her target.

“Please,” the king spoke, still grinning. “Have a seat.” As he sat on his throne, the rest of the room sat as well.

Lumine swallowed the lump in her throat. His voice was light, playful even.

Was that truly the murderous king of Snezhnaya?

“A toast, to you, my people,” he said, raising a golden goblet. “Let the festivities begin.”

Lumine gulped down her own glass of wine, then shook her head.

I’m here for a job. Not romance.

The room filled with chatter, and Ying’er motioned to Lumine and the rest of the musicians to the corner where they would be performing their music for the night.

Lumine gathered her lyre, shuffling towards her spot in her heavily layered robes. Her mouth was set in a taut line.

A momentary lapse in judgement.

As she played the first few notes, her eyes flickered to the king, who was busy greeting various nobles at his throne. She narrowed her eyes at him, at that sly, sly smile on his face.

It won’t happen again.

* * *

The night seemed to drag on forever. After what seemed like an eternity of playing music for the room—as other patrons ate and danced and conversed—the musicians were finally taking a break.

Lumine delightfully chewed through expensive meats and breads as various actors, dancers, and poets took the floor in front of King Ajax to present their pieces.

The king seemed to be entertained, joining on some of the performances himself.

That drunkard from the bar was right. King Ajax was quite dramatic, inserting himself into the spotlight whenever he so pleased. How pretentious.

The crowd clapped and cheered as another performance was brought to an end, an air of boisterous chatter resuming. Lumine swallowed her last piece of food, making her way to Ying’er.

Time to get started.

“Ying’er,” Lumine called to her boss, clenching her side. “I feel a bit sick.”

The brunette woman raised a brow. “You were looking quite well before.”

“Yes, it was very sudden,” Lumine responded, turning to the exit. “I think I will just head back now.”

“So soon, dear? We haven’t even introduced ourselves to the king yet.”

Lumine was already on her way out. “I’ll see you back at the shop.”

She slipped past the guards patrolling the halls, ducking into the nearest empty room, a storage closet of sorts. Perfect.

She hiked her long robes up, unsheathing her dagger, cutting away at the garments. Sorry, Ying’er. But I can’t fight in this. She threw the discarded fabric in a dark corner, where they would be forgotten about.

She slid the knife back into its sheath, and cracked the door open the tiniest bit—enough to watch the entrance into the great hall.

Now, all she had to do was wait.

* * *

Lumine would have fallen asleep had it not been for the two guards who stopped to converse right outside her door. Within a matter of seconds, Lumine had gone from sleepily nodding off to firmly clenching her weapon in her hand, nerves buzzing on high alert.

“That party dragged on forever,” one of the guards said. “I don’t know how King Ajax does it. Isn’t he exhausted every night?”

“Not sure. He seems to enjoy it.”

“He’s been gone a while now. Should we check on him?”

Lumine tightened her grasp on her dagger. He was gone?

“No. He likes to be alone at night. He’ll kill you if you interrupt him.”

“Oh...Should we just go to the other side of the castle then? So we don’t...interrupt him?”

“...Sounds like a good idea.”

The sound of their footsteps faded, and Lumine dared a peek out the door to scope out the hallway.

There were no other guards, and the boisterous sounds of the party were long gone.

Lumine slid out of the closet, sneaking down the hall, starting her search for King Ajax.

Sounds like he’s still here somewhere. Alone.

This job was getting easier and easier.

Too easy.

* * *

Please be in this room.

There was a great stone door before her, one she had come to after a mind-numbingly exhaustive search through the entirety of the large castle. She pushed on the door, as slowly and as quietly as possible, then looked in.

She nearly cried out in relief.

Sitting in the middle of the room was King Ajax, his back turned to her.

He was completely silent, unmoving, in this empty stone room. Was he asleep? No, it looked more like meditation.

Lumine slinked in, silently, conjuring the elemental energy of the wind in the room.

She would take every bit of air out of his body. Quick, quiet, no mess. It was the method she had always used.

She closed her eyes to focus, feeling the pull of air from his lungs.

He was going to die, and she was going to be free, free with her brother—

WHOOSH!

Lumine opened her eyes just in time to see Ajax rush towards her.

His hand wrapped around her throat, and he slammed her into the ground. All of the breath in her body hissed out of her, and she clawed at his hand.

“Who are you?” he growled.

She stopped prying at his hold, quickly yanking out her dagger, and slashing at his face.

He dodged, forcing him to loosen his grip on her.

She slashed again at his hand, throwing herself away from him as he recoiled in pain. She rubbed at her neck, gasping for breath. The king was looking at the gash across his fingers.

Shitshitshit.

Lumine quickly focused her energy on the earth below, trying to create shackles out of stone to hold him in place, or to just bury him alive.

The ropes of earth sprang out of the ground. His eyes flickered to the coils as they rushed for him.

Yes!

But then a swirling mass of water appeared, engulfing him, destroying the chains in the process.

What—?!

A sharp stream of water shot out from the bubble, coiling around Lumine before she could react. She was pulled to the ground, bound, and unable to move.

The bubble of water dissipated, and Ajax stepped out, eyes ablaze. He approached Lumine.

“Who are you?” he asked again, less angry, more inquisitive.

She strained against the chains of water, her elemental energy unable to rid them. She locked eyes with him. “You’re a magic user.”

He squatted next to her. “You are too,” he responded, the smallest ghost of a smile on his lips. He took her dagger into his hands, weighing it. “Now, why were you trying to kill me?”

Lumine bit her cheek. No, she couldn’t sell Diluc out; he could still get Aether killed.

“That’s how you conquered Mondstadt and Liyue so easily. You used magic,” she pushed, ignoring his question. “That’s forbidden.”

He barked out a laugh, wiping his bloodied hand on her robes. “And yet, here we are, two magic users in one room.” He pointed the dagger at Lumine’s neck. “Tell me why you were trying to kill me, before I make it only one. I won’t ask again.”

“You’re going to kill me anyway,” Lumine said. “I’m a magic user. That threatens your power, doesn’t it?”

Ajax studied her for a second, pulling the dagger back, just a bit. “True.” He tilted his head. “But I’ve never actually met another magic user before.”

She averted his intense gaze. “So what are you going to do? Keep me alive and experiment on me?”

“No.” He stood. “How about this...in exchange for sparing your life, you become my student.”

…

What?

“You mean learn magic from you?” Lumine glared at him. “How do you know I won’t kill you in the future?”

“You won’t,” he said. “This murder attempt? Wasn’t personal—you tried to kill me from a distance. Someone must have sent you.” He closed his eyes, squeezing the hilt of the dagger. After some shaking, it disintegrated into dust.

“Also, you can’t kill me,” he continued, opening his eyes. “You’re severely untrained. You saw how easily I subdued you.” A small smile. “All the more reason to learn from me.”

Maybe this was the gods taking mercy on Lumine. Ajax didn’t kill her right away; she had a chance to live, to get back home to Aether.

“What’s in it for you? This only seems to benefit me,” she said to Ajax.

He hummed, thinking. “A potentially powerful weapon,” he responded, eyes glinting.

Maybe, once she learned more magic, she could overtake him, and complete her job.

She locked eyes with him.

“You have a deal.”

The ghost of those words burned bitter on her tongue.

* * *

Lumine nearly died the next morning.

“You did what?!” she gasped out, after deathly choking on a part of her breakfast.

She was currently sitting across from Ajax in his elegant dining room, who had just informed her that he had announced their marriage.

He leaned back in his chair. “A random new woman living in the king’s castle? Bound to raise many rumors,” he said, nonchalant. “This way, there are no rumors, and we can train without being questioned.”

Lumine worried her lip. He has a point.

“I don’t—We don’t have to...do anything in public, do we?” she asked.

“No.” He smirked. “Unless you want to, pretty girl.”

She grimaced. “No, thank you.” Here for a job, not romance, she reminded herself, no matter how handsome this cocky bastard is. Not to mention, she still planned to kill him.

And so, Lumine’s days were filled with training, pretending to the servants and maids she was King Ajax’s fiancée. She was trapped, as Ajax reminded her many times that if she tried to leave, he would swiftly execute her.

She learned more about him, as much as she didn’t want to. She saw that he did really care for his people, and provided for them as best he could—though he wasn’t above using his power to strike down those in his way, whether it was an enemy or a citizen who simply disrespected his reign.

And that was ultimately what he wanted: power. To have power over everyone in the land of Teyvat. He had endless ambition—Lumine could credit him that much.

Some days, she caught herself imagining it as well: a world she could rule over, have everyone bend to her will, set the laws so people like her and Aether could live without fear, and be provided for. In some ways, she could relate to Ajax’s desires. In some ways, she could justify his methods.

It very much disgusted her, at first. But then, it was liberating. To have someone who could understand the darker sides to her being, understand the blood on her hands.

Even Aether could never fully understand her. How part of her was always glad to be given magical powers to defend herself and those she cared about. How part of her enjoyed her current situation.

After all, she was living lavishly, compared to the impoverished life she had before. She had every meal provided for, luxuriously, and a soft bed to lay in every night. No threat of the authorities finding out about her powers and murdering her.

Could she perhaps bring Aether here?

Ajax had spared her—was it too much of a stretch to believe he would spare her twin as well?

If Aether could be brought here, she wouldn’t have to kill Ajax. She wouldn’t have to kill perhaps the only person in Teyvat that knew who she truly was.

* * *

“If you found another magic user,” she asked Ajax over dinner, “would you train them as well?”

Ajax took a sip of wine from his goblet. “No.”

“...No?”

A small smile, a slight flash of his canines. “I can’t have my weapons outnumbering me, now can I?”

Lumine’s mouth went dry. “If you won’t train them...what would you do with them?”

“Kill them.” He set the cup down. “They would be a threat.”

“I’m not a threat?”

Ajax barked out a laugh. “No, Lumine. No, you are not.”

Ah.

So she and Aether couldn’t be together here. Aether was still in danger of being outed by Diluc.

“Why?” Ajax questioned. “Are you lonely here?”

“I’m trapped in your castle. What do you think?”

He rested his head on his hand. “My bed is open at night, if you’d like.”

Lumine drove her knife through her food. “You’re insufferable.”

“Oh, Lumine, it’s just banter,” he said, chuckling. “You don’t think we’re friends? I quite like your company.”

She pursed her lips, staying silent.

“You don’t have to lie to me.” Ajax stared right at her. “I see you while we train. You like it here. You like becoming more and more powerful.”

He leaned over the table. “You and I are very similar.” He smiled. “There’s a hunger in your eyes. You want exactly what I have.”

Lumine stood abruptly. “We are nothing alike,” she spat uselessly. He sees right through me.

“I told you, you don’t have to lie to me,” Ajax responded, sitting back in his chair. “We are already married. We could rule together—as partners.”

...What?

“I thought I was your weapon.” Her knuckles were white from clutching the edge of the table.

“Partner if you so choose.” His blue eyes narrowed slightly. “Weapon if not.”

What game is he playing? “There has to be some sort of catch.” He was essentially offering her his power as king, even if it was just partially.

“No catch,” he said. “Like I said, if you refuse, you’ll just continue your little life of entrapment, as my weapon.”

“One of these options is obviously better than the other.”

Ajax laughed, genuinely, his expression softening, just a bit. “I guess one is.”

She gave him a look, quizzical, before swiftly leaving the room, his proposal still hanging in the night.

As the guards escorted her back to her room, she played the conversation over and over again in her mind.

Would it be so bad? Would it be so bad as King Ajax’s consort, his companion through his crusade of Teyvat?

He was right: part of her deep down ached for that kind of power.

But joining Ajax meant sacrificing her dear brother.

The aching desire hissed, Is that a sacrifice you are going to make?

* * *

The castle’s stone floors were freezing on Lumine’s feet as she traversed through the halls barefoot. No shoes meant no sound. No sound meant she could surprise the guards, getting the upper hand to take them out. Already, there was a trail of dead guards behind her as she passed through the corridors, the air stripped from their lungs.

Her sheer white nightgown fluttered around her as she dashed about, and in the dim moonlight waning through the windows, she thought herself a ghost, an angel of death. She was on a path she could not stop.

She knew exactly where he was. After spending so many days trapped here, of course she knew where the king’s quarters were.

She knew him like clockwork: what days he would stay up in his study, what days he would retire to his chambers and when. She knew where his guards were, when they would switch patrols, when their protection would be the weakest.

And when it came time, she stood outside of his door, wavering on the spot slightly.

She shook her head, trying the door. Locked.

Taking a breath in, she rapped her knuckles on the hardwood.

She heard rustling beyond the heavy oak door, her heartbeat picking up. She would have to get in there quick, before he looked behind her and saw his guards missing.

The door swung open, a flash of anger on Ajax’s face until he saw who it was.

He gave her a closed-eye smile. “Ah, Lumine, to what do I owe the pleasure—”

Lumine stood on the tips of her toes, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him in for a kiss.

She could feel him go rigid under her touch. She walked him backwards, further into the room, closing the door behind her with her foot.

As the door shut, he broke away from her. “Are you accepting my proposal?” he whispered, his hands clutched around her arms.

Lumine nodded, going for another kiss, arms slinking around his shoulders. This time, he melted into her touch, pulling until he was under her on his bed.

He fell for it.

Pity crept into her heart. From the way he breathed her in, the way he held her in his arms, there was a softness she had never seen from him.

He loved her.

She was his weapon, and now, his greatest weakness.

“I’m sorry,” she said against his lips.

His eyes opened, those ocean eyes on her as she pulled the air from his lungs with ease.

You shouldn’t have trained me.

His hand reached for her throat, but went to his own as he gasped and choked.

She wrapped her own hands around his, pressing down. She slammed her eyes shut. She didn’t want to see his face.

He thrashed wildly, and she repeated I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’msorryimsorry over and over again until he went still under her.

…

…

...

She opened her eyes, the world blurry around her. She wiped away the tears pooling in her vision, and looked down at Ajax.

He was unmoving, eyes glazed over, arms limp at his side.

Lumine reached for his throat, hand shaking, fingers checking for a pulse.

He’s dead.

She scrambled off of him, crumbling into a ball on the floor.

I killed him.

Her breathing was uneven—she was the one gasping for breath now as uncontrollable sobs racked through her body.

I am so sorry, Ajax.

* * *

“Lumi?”

Lumine turned to see Aether looking at her with worry.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

A breeze rustled by. Lumine turned back to look over green fields that stretched as far as she could see.

“I’m okay,” she responded.

“Okay,” he repeated. He smiled a bit, pulling an envelope from his pocket. “Diluc’s hawk came this morning. He sends warm wishes to us both.”

After the assassination of King Ajax, Lumine decreed Snezhnaya a freed country, a country with no ruler, and returned the lands of Mondstadt and Liyue back to their rightful heirs. Diluc, now the restored king of Mondstadt, gave Lumine and Aether the riches he promised, and a home deep in the countryside for the peaceful life they so desperately wanted.

But sometimes Lumine had nightmares of Ajax.

She would be sitting next to him, on their thrones as the King and Queen of Snezhnaya. Sometimes, little princes and princesses of theirs would be running around as well.

They would have conjured all of Teyvat together.

They would have loved each other.

Lumine would wake up, tears in her eyes, heart heavy with desire for that life.

And then she would cry because her life would never be peaceful ever again.

[robininthelabyrinth]

sequel to A Sick Thought (aka the Mo Xuanyu & Wei Wuxi-cat fic)

-

“Did I do something to make Hanguang-jun not like me?” Mo Xuanyu asked.

Jiang Cheng wasn’t expecting the question, so he reacted as usual – incredulous glare with a side order of ‘who are you to dare talk to me directly?!’ – which to nobody’s surprise was massive overkill for a shrinking violet like Mo Xuanyu, who quailed at once.

“I’m sure he likes you fine,” Jiang Cheng said hastily, trying to make up for it. He hadn’t had much practice at trying to be not scary in years. “What makes you say that?”

He wasn’t really good at making conversation, either, but he was the only one here right now. They’d all been taking shifts to support Mo Xuanyu with spiritual energy per the doctor’s recommendation for treating the mercury poison that was still affecting his mind, and Jiang Cheng usually volunteered to take the late night-early morning shift because Lans simply weren’t properly functional at those hours until their official wake-up time hit.

Also, it was the one time he could generally guarantee Wei Wuxian would be either busy or napping and he wouldn’t have to deal with – any of that.

He knew he’d eventually have to deal with Wei Wuxian, but…not yet.

Right now, he turned to look at Mo Xuanyu, who was lying very still, covered in acupuncture needles to the point that he resembled a pincushion; he had very large eyes that suggested trembling even when he wasn’t, and that irked Jiang Cheng, somehow, when he’d already made an effort not to be scary.

“He doesn’t seem happy when I’m around,” Mo Xuanyu explained.

“That’s not about you,” Jiang Cheng said gruffly. “Hanguang-jun just doesn’t like anyone. You wouldn’t believe it based on his righteous reputation, but he can be a real ass to people.”

Jiang Cheng supposed that the ice-block must like someone, given how often jokes were made about him looking as though his wife had died, but he’d never seen it in person. When they were young, Lan Wangji had already been stern and cold, with occasional bouts of being snappish – especially towards Wei Wuxian. There’d been a few months during the Sunshot Campaign when he’d been a little softer, during the time they were looking for Wei Wuxian together, but he’d gone straight back to asshole right after, sticking his nose into everyone’s business and harassing Wei Wuxian for his demonic cultivation. And once Wei Wuxian had died, he’d gone into seclusion for years on end, only to come back as his current glacial self –

“No, that’s mostly just to you, I think,” Mo Xuanyu said. “He’s very polite to all the juniors, everyone in the Lan sect…even Jin Ling.”

Jiang Cheng really hated that his first thought was at least I’m unique because being the only man Hanguang-jun is consistently rude to was a stupid prize to be happy to win and he knew it. He didn’t even like Hanguang-jun enough to care what the man thought!

“But I really do think it’s something about me in particular. Recently I’ve noticed that he seems to scowl when I’m around –”

“There’s a time when he’s not scowling?”

“…I mean, actually scowl, as opposed to being expressionless?”

Jiang Cheng tilted his head to the side, reviewing instances in which he’d observed the two of them, then nodded. “That might be the case, actually.”

Mo Xuanyu sighed, sounding almost relieved by the confirmation. “I don’t know why! I didn’t think I behaved all that badly when we first met, and I never met him at Koi Tower before –”

Jiang Cheng didn’t like to think of Mo Xuanyu and Koi Tower.

He’d only ever seen Mo Xuanyu distantly, a wallflower even when decked out in Lanling gold, and Jiang Cheng hadn’t been in Lanling for very many visits during the short time Mo Xuanyu had been there – a few years, maybe, half a decade at most, and most of that time Jiang Cheng had been focused on his sect or his nephew to the exclusion of everything else.

Still, his first up-close view had been truly disturbing.

All the more so because Jin Ling clearly hadn’t realize that it was so disturbing, because Jin Ling – his Jin Ling – thought it was somehow normal for what had once been a perfectly ordinary, if shy, man to suddenly become a lunatic, raving with fits and terrified of everyone dressed in yellow…

(He’d have to have words with Jin Guangyao about it, whenever he found the time. Had they done something wrong in raising Jin Ling? And who was it that had so tormented Mo Xuanyu while he was there? Surely Jin Guangyao would know something…)

It was all extremely uncomfortable, and doubly complicated by the fact that Jiang Cheng himself had been driven to the edge of a nervous breakdown when he heard Wei Wuxian’s voice again after all these years. He’d dreamed of his shixiong coming back, back the way he used to be before the war had ruined everything; he’d had nightmares of him coming back, too – not again I don’t want to have to kill him again please no – but somehow the idea that he’d come back as a cat had just been…too much.

They said only the worst sort of people reincarnated as animals.

Later, of course, he learned about the body sacrificing array (he’d nearly been sick at the thought of Wei Wuxian’s familiar gaze looking out at him from Mo Xuanyu’s big trembling eyes, the actual man’s soul gone who-knows-where), and the fact that someone had taught that and only that to Mo Xuanyu, intending on squeezing him dry and then discarding him to use the shell…

It was sickening.

He should have paid more attention.

“- and anyway I can’t figure out what it might be.”

“Well, think over what the instances that you saw him scowling were, and figure out what there was in common,” Jiang Cheng said. Circulating spiritual energy into another person was tiring, but not necessarily mentally stimulating – it wouldn’t be too much to devote some time into the puzzle of the mysteriously scowling Hanguang-jun. “Were you at a particular location?”

“No. Once I was at the dining hall, once walking through the field, a few times in here…”

“Were you doing anything in specific?”

“I don’t think so? I don’t really – do anything.”

That was certainly true. Maybe they should be encouraging Mo Xuanyu to pick up a hobby.

Jiang Cheng thought about it a bit more. “Would you say Hanguang-jun scowls at me?” he asked.

Mo Xuanyu was caught by surprise and failed to hide his smile – it was a surprisingly cute smile, broader and more full-fledged that Jiang Cheng would have expected from such a shy person. It transformed his whole face: his eyes crinkling at the sides, his cheeks dimpling, his nose scrunching up.

Really, surprisingly cute.

Was that what Mo Xuanyu would have been like, if it wasn’t for the poison and the abuse?

“Yes, Sandu Shengshou,” Mo Xuanyu said, his eyes twinkling a little in his amusement. “Hanguang-jun always scowls at you.”

Jiang Cheng felt a stupid little spike of pleasure, which, damnit, he does not care. Stupid prizes were not worth winning – he just had to keep reminding himself of that.

“Well, that’s something, then,” he said, deciding not to think about it. Much like he was not thinking about Wei Wuxian: very purposefully. “That means it’s not you he doesn’t like, because then he’d scowl every time, instead of just sometimes. Is there anyone with you during those times?”

Mo Xuanyu pursed his lips when he thought. “I don’t think so?” he said doubtfully. “It’s usually just me and Wei Wuxian…it couldn’t possibly be Wei Wuxian, though. They like each other.”

“You think so?” Jiang Cheng asked, surprised. “Why?”

“Well, I mean, they’re always together, aren’t they? Unless Wei Wuxian’s with me, Hanguang-jun is always keeping him company – in the library pavilion, in the dining hall, in the cold spring…”

Jiang Cheng was starting to get flashbacks to his teenage days. “Surely you mean that Wei Wuxian is the one keeping Hanguang-jun company?” he said, because that sounded much more likely. “Or, well, pestering him?”

Mo Xuanyu shook his head. “Hanguang-jun brought him a little bit of meat from the town outside,” he said. “He must have gone there especially to get it, since there’s no meat in the dining hall here. And he even let him have a jar of some wine.”

That – did not sound right. Whether from the perspective of what Jiang Cheng knew about Lan Wangji, or about Lan sect rules, or even, well, general guidelines for what was appropriate to feed to a cat.

“You’re sure?”

“Mm. Here, come to the window, I’ll show you.”

Somehow Jiang Cheng found himself on the bed next to Mo Xuanyu, shuffling around carefully so that he could look out the window without being too obvious about it.

Just across the way, Lan Wangji was standing guard at one of the central areas of the Cloud Recesses – judging the time, he would have just finished up the last leg of his patrols, having presumably utilized his considerable willpower to stay awake until this hour. As they watched, a faint wind picked up, ruffling Lan Wangji’s hair and causing the ends of his forehead ribbon to gently flutter.

The picture would have been one of the classic cultivator, lonely but righteous, standing sentinel on behalf of others, except for the fact that Wei Wuxian was crouched right behind him, red ribbon and black tail and all, trying his level best to leap up high enough to catch the ribbon.

Jiang Cheng briefly closed his eyes. “That idiot.”

Mo Xuanyu elbowed him lightly. “Open your eyes, you’ll miss it!”

Jiang Cheng felt absurdly proud over the fact that Mo Xuanyu had apparently gotten over his fright well enough to do as much as that, and opened his eyes.

His eyebrows went up as he watched Lan Wangji – still stone-faced as always, but (and it was perhaps a trick of the light) a little softer than usual – lean down to rub behind Wei Wuxian’s ears, and to pull out a bit of dried fish from his sleeve where he’d clearly been keeping a stash.

He even crouched down to better speak to him, taking in account that Wei Wuxian was, while moderately porcine for a cat, now much smaller than him.

There was a great deal of staring happening.

It took nearly the length of two incense sticks for Jiang Cheng to actually process what he was seeing.

“Hanguang-jun likes…cats?”

“No,” Mo Xuanyu said, his lips twitching. “He likes Wei Wuxian. Isn’t it obvious?”

It was, in fact, a little obvious.

“When you say like –”

Mo Xuanyu reached out his own paw and patted Jiang Cheng’s arm in sympathy. “Trust one cutsleeve to know another,” he said, and then he left his hand on Jiang Cheng’s arm.

“But when did they even start?” Jiang Cheng asked, honestly bemused. “They were always at each other’s throats before! And – and he’s a cat now. Don’t tell me that Hanguang-jun has some sort of – some strange – I’ve heard things about catboys –”

Mo Xuanyu burst out into giggles. “Where did you hear about that?”

“An old acquaintance with bad taste and a penchant for sharing it,” Jiang Cheng said, since obviously Mo Xuanyu wouldn’t know who Nie Huaisang was. “It’s not that, though, is it? They must have – before.”

That would explain Lan Wangji’s decade-long mourning for a dead wife, he supposed. Also his seemingly inexplicable resentment of both the Jin sect and Jiang Cheng personally.

“I think so.”

Jiang Cheng was going to murder Wei Wuxian for not telling him that he’d apparently run off to have a whirlwind romance with Lan Wangji during the time he’d been the Yiling Patriarch – that was the only time when it was possible, since Jiang Cheng had been there all the other times, and he was pretty sure they didn’t get together before that.

If only because Wei Wuxian wouldn’t have been able to resist boasting about it.

In fact, it was a little strange that he hadn’t done so now, cat or no cat – it wasn’t as if everyone didn’t know he was planning to cultivate towards a human form as quickly as possible, so why wouldn’t he –

A horrible thought crossed Jiang Cheng’s mind. “Does Wei Wuxian know? Does he – does he like him back?”

Mo Xuanyu pursed his lips. “You know, I’m not sure?”

“I thought you said cutsleeves could tell.”

“Well, the whole cat thing has been throwing me off a bit.”

Jiang Cheng covered his eyes with a hand. “I don’t think I can deal with this. The cat thing was bad enough…at least it explains your issue.”

Mo Xuanyu, who’d finally removed his hand, blinked. “What?”

“Wei Wuxian is a perpetual headache that exists for the sole purpose of tormenting me,” Jiang Cheng explained because really it was the only logical conclusion at this point. He wished that he loved the man (cat) a little bit less; it would make every bit of it much less agonizingly personal. “But apparently Hanguang-jun like that sort of thing, so whenever Wei Wuxian is spending time with you...”

“…you think he’s been drinking vinegar? About me? Hanguang-jun?”

“Why not? You’re open about the fact that you cut your sleeve, Wei Wuxian is already protective of you, and it’s not as if you’re not cute – it make sense that he’d be worried, especially if he’s been pining all these years.”

Mo Xuanyu had turned pink. “Cute,” he said dazedly, reaching up and pressing his hands to his cheeks as if that would help cool them down. “Uh –”

“Don’t do that,” Jiang Cheng said irritably, reaching up and catching his hands. “You’re covered in needles that you really shouldn’t be moving around – here, lie back down already.”

Mo Xuanyu obediently shuffled back into place, and Jiang Cheng returned to his previous place as well.

“I’ll need to talk to Wei Wuxian about it,” he said mournfully. Even after everything that had happened between them, it was his duty as Wei Wuxian’s only living relative to make sure the idiot wasn’t getting involved in something he shouldn’t. “I don’t want to talk to Wei Wuxian. He doesn’t even like me anymore.”

That was the problem, too.

“Uh, Sandu Shengshou –”

“Just call me Jiang Cheng. Everyone else does.” He was pretty sure he hadn’t even heard his courtesy name without a heavy dose of sarcasm or cringe-inducing toadying at any point in the last five years, and his title was far too formal if the goal was to be less intimidating. “What, do you have an idea on how to make it easier?”

“It’s just a thought.”

It couldn’t be worse than any of Jiang Cheng’s. “I’m listening. What is it?”

“Have you considered…catnip?”

[taichoh]

old friend

pairing: hitsukarin word count: 5298 (oopsies) warnings: none note: this is my self-indulgent fix-it fic because i can. technically post-canon, there's a hint of ichiruki but this is about my babies, who aren't babies anymore. :') ao3 link

Upon entering her adult years, Karin was coming to terms with her growing list of responsibilities, wishing she was just a kid again when the list was much smaller. Everyone can relate to missing things from their childhood, kicking a soccer ball around on a summer day, only having to stress about a simple book assignment instead of the plethora of things you’d worry about now, coming home to a full house even if it was chaos sometimes.. Most of the time. The house wasn’t quiet now, but it wasn’t as chaotic either. Karin missed it.

Ever since Ichigo decided to live the rest of his life in the Soul Society, things calmed down a bit. She was happy for him, he’d gotten a semblance of his life back after the Winter War, but it only took a couple years for him to crave a different life. She saw how morose her brother had gotten going day by day without a certain short black haired, newly appointed captain, and it only took him this long to realize some things everyone else could plainly see.

The Human World was boring anyway. She wouldn’t tell anyone yet, but she planned to follow in her brother’s footsteps. Karin wanted to wait much longer of course, for a multitude of reasons, one being she was stubborn and wanted to do what she set out to, fully prepared to hurdle any obstacles, and there were plenty.

But now she’s here, having finished school and now fully runs the family clinic with her sister. For a while their dad was with them, but after a very heartfelt conversation and a boatload of tissues, they all agreed that his time in this world was up as well. It was funny, how instead of his daughters, he was leaving the nest and going back home where he was welcomed, especially after the war. They missed him but Karin and Yuzu didn’t miss how much easier it was for their dad to smile whenever he visited. Still, with their brother and dad in a different world, reaching out wasn’t as easy as a phone call away, though Karin figured it wouldn’t be long before Urahara remedied that with yet another invention.

She still hangs out with old and new friends, but feigning disregard to Yuzu’s nagging about finding someone to settle down with was getting old. And so was she. Well not really, but she felt old. She was only in her 20s but she considered herself old when she found a gray hair in her hairbrush. It was most likely stress but regardless, the next thing would be wrinkles or joint pains and the stress from that is just gonna cause more grays to show up so really there’s no upside. She missed the days before puberty, and how much she didn’t care about her appearance. She doesn’t much these days either, but even Karin, with her confidence, had a list of insecurities that piled up over the years. It was part of being human she supposed. She missed when all she worried about was beating the stupid juniors at soccer, getting a scrape on her knee, grass stains, etc.. But she was skirting around the elephant in her room. She couldn’t ignore it any longer. She missed him. A lot. A huff escaped her as she stood at the sink in the bathroom connected to the clinic. She was watching the last of the suds from the soap disappear down the drain when she thought of him for what felt like the first time in ages. But it hadn’t been ages, she thought of him just a couple of days ago, when Yuzu mentioned yet again that she noticed how lonely Karin seemed. It was a bit harsh but Yuzu was right, and Karin knew she was just worried for her sister. “Have you talked to Hitsugaya recently?” The question caught her off guard and made her stop halfway from spooning more soup into her mouth. The answer was no. They hadn’t talked in quite a long time. She half expected to see him amidst the aftermath of the war, but she assumed he had a lot on his plate, so the idea was dismissed. “We barely talk to Ichigo or dad Yuzu, they’re all busy over there.” She knew it was bullshit the second it left her mouth. Acting nonchalant was getting harder and harder around Yuzu, because even though Karin is skilled at it, her sister was one of a handful of people that could break down those walls with a single push. The others are her brother and a boy with snow white hair and eyes you want to swim in, as much as she hates to admit it.

“But I remember you guys being pretty close, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you reaching out... I know you miss him.” It was so embarrassing being read so easily, and it was making her lose her appetite. “Yuzu he’s a captain, he’s got plenty on his plate as it is.” I’m sure I’m the last thing on his mind. “So is Rukia and she along with the rest of the gang visits us ! And from what we’ve heard from Ichigo and Dad, things have been going pretty smoothly.” Yuzu had a point. The last time they saw their family including Rukia was maybe a month ago. Karin was just getting in her head. She knew Toshiro probably wasn’t that busy but she also knew that he wasn’t the type to sit and do nothing. He was a busybody. When he wasn’t eating, sleeping, or visiting her, he was working. And when the time between his last visit continued to stretch, she figured he must have been as busy as can be. Or, maybe he forgot about me. “Toshiro would never forget you!” Yuzu shouted across from the table, making Karin jump and her cheeks flush. Did she say that last part out loud? “I can’t believe you would even entertain the idea! No one could forget you !” Even in an accusatory insulting tone, Karin knew Yuzu was being pragmatic. She always was. Karin groaned and hung her head over her dinner, not wanting to look at Yuzu’s disappointed glare. “I know,” she said dejectedly. “It’s just... A lot has changed. There was a war, we’ve graduated, Ichigo and Dad moved out. It’s been a while.” Karin couldn’t even remember the last time she saw him. It’s been years. Karin was a full fledged adult in her 20s. She wondered if he’d grown an inch or two by now. She missed whenever he’d roll his eyes at her height jokes. “Well I think it’s been long enough.” It seemed Yuzu was going to take matters into her own hands. Getting up from her seat, Yuzu started gathering their empty plates and explained her plan,“Ichigo, Rukia, and Dad are coming to dinner soon, so when they go back you are going with them.” This made Karin open her mouth to object but was immediately cut off, “And don’t use that excuse about leaving me alone. I can take care of myself, and I can call Jinta if I need to.” Karin sunk into her seat as she watched her sister clean up their dinner. Yuzu’s mind was made up, and Karin knew better than to argue with her. Every Kurosaki had the potential to be increasingly scary when they wanted to and that included Yuzu. Karin shivered at being at the mercy of her sister’s wrath hidden under that bubbly exterior.

So, it was happening. She was going to the Soul Society. To see Toshiro. After years of no contact. That’s fine. The more she thought about it the more her thoughts turned intrusive, and it was taking everything in her to not punch her reflection. That would end up with bloody knuckles and a broken mirror, so all Karin could do was take another breath, and leave the bathroom. Yuzu’s plan was panning out, as days from their conversation, their little family reconvened over dinner and it was time for them to go back home. Karin excused herself to go to the bathroom and grab her bag of necessities that Yuzu forced her to pack because apparently her trip was extended to a couple of days and not hours as Karin presumed. When it was announced, Yuzu simply explained she had some extra work to do so she would join next time, which everyone accepted much too easily. “You ready?” Ichigo asked as Karin rejoined them all on the main floor. Karin nodded and gave Yuzu a small smile which she mirrored and nodded as if to say ‘good luck’. The four of them filed onto the empty street and before she knew it they were walking through the Senkaimon. Isshin and Ichigo walked a couple steps behind Karin and Rukia as they walked the dark path that was the Dangai. Karin had only done this a handful of times, to visit her family but it still gave her chills everytime she made the trip. “So, you got anything planned?” Rukia’s voice broke her out of her reverie. She glanced over to see Rukia smirking, looking a little too proud for Karin’s liking. What she could be insinuating?

“Uh, not really.” Karin tried her best to seem nonchalant, but Rukia was getting better at reading Kurosaki’s much to Karin’s chagrin. Her only plan was to see Toshiro, but she’d probably visit some others. A simple little reunion. Part of her wanted to confide in Rukia, but she had a feeling Rukia would absolutely make sure this reunion happened. She gulped willing her anxieties to shut the hell up. “Ooh, I see, so Captain Hitsugaya has no idea you’re coming.” “How did you-” “Oh please, I’m not as dense as your brother,” Karin suddenly appreciated the distance between them and the two idiots behind them, who looked to be having their own conversation after she took a glance over her shoulder. “Plus Yuzu might have filled me in.” Her smug grin made Karin’s blush deepen but there was no hiding it.

“You can’t say anything!” Karin kept her voice low but still full of urgency, which Rukia took in earnest. “Of course Karin! I would never! Unless you wanted me to, and I won’t say anything if you feel the need to deck the Captain in the face, though I have a feeling you won’t want to-” “Why would I want to punch Toshiro?” Has he done something? What did he do? Does he have a girlfriend? What happened? Her mind was racing at Rukia’s admission and the urge to turn around and go back home popped into her head.

Rukia only sighed at Karin’s confusion, “Well according to Yuzu, it’s been a long time for you two. And he never reached out. When me and Ichigo parted ways when he lost his powers, I couldn’t reach out to him as much as I wanted to. And I wanted to. So badly,” Rukia’s voice turned solemn and Karin relaxed, suddenly thinking about how much she envied their relationship. They were so good together, and they’ve been through so much, yet they managed to traverse all those obstacles and found each other again.

Karin vaguely wondered if she’d ever have that kind of connection with someone. Suddenly Toshiro’s name was written all over her mind, but she was getting ahead of herself. Just because she’s had a crush on him for years and years doesn’t mean he feels the same. He could already be with someone for all she knew. Rukia was right, Karin might want to punch Toshiro after all.

“Anyway, he’s had all this time and he hasn’t visited! I’ll have you know things have been just fine in the Seireitei, so really there’s no excuse.” Rukia sounded like Yuzu, and they both had a point, but- “That could go both ways though.” Karin admitted, frowning and going to scratch the back of her neck. “Well I suppose, but I still think the Captain should’ve done something. He always visited you didn’t he?” “Yeah, but I’ve been to the Soul Society before, and I chose not to go see him or anything.” “Why not? That doesn’t seem like you.” Rukia was so right. It was not like Karin at all. If she was her younger self she’d kick down his door and demand him to abandon all paperwork for a game of soccer. But that was younger Karin, who barely considered her crush on the Captain of the Tenth. This was older Karin, now an adult who had to deal with her feelings. Ugh. “I know. I guess I didn’t want to bother him. He is a Captain and all. And now that I’m older I kind of understand that it’s a lot of responsibility.” Once again, she was spouting absolute bullshit and Rukia was prone to picking up on it after dealing with this family for so long. “I’m disappointed in you Karin,” She said with a hint of mockery, not meaning it wholeheartedly, but still being genuine, “It might not be my place to say, but I know I’m not the only one that noticed how much happier Captain Hitsugaya was in your company. Don’t forget I’m a Captain myself, does that mean you think my relationship with your brother hinders me in being one?” “Of course not! I never meant to-” Karin exclaimed, immediately sorry for her backwards thinking, but instead Rukia chuckled. “I know, I’m just saying. You’re right in that we have a lot of responsibilities as Captains, but you know Hitsugaya, he’ll take on more than he needs to, and you were always good at reminding him there was more to life than paperwork.” A couple moments passed as Rukia’s words sunk in. Karin considered herself an adult but she still had so much to learn. She was so grateful she had someone like Rukia to show a different perspective. Karin had to admit, she had definitely mastered the art of handling a Kurosaki. They’re family was so crazy and complicated and Rukia had no problem at all. In the back of her mind Karin reminded herself to kick her brother’s teeth in if he didn’t propose soon. There was a difference though. Ichigo and Rukia lived in the same world. Karin and Toshiro did not have that luxury. But that thought was for another time. Just focus on one thing at a time. Soon Karin was squinting when a bright light washed over the group as they entered the Soul Society. The sky above them was blue with only a couple of clouds hanging, a gentle breeze wrapped itself around Karin, and she felt oddly relaxed. She regrets not visiting more often, this could easily become her second home.

“Well it’s about time!” Karin noticed the voice immediately and watched the beautiful woman with strawberry blonde hair walk up to them. “Lieutenant Matsumoto! What brings you here? We weren’t expecting a welcome party.” Rukia chimed in for Karin, who smiled at Rangiku. Just like it had been a while since she’d seen Toshiro, it had been a while for everyone else too. Rangiku and Karin managed to strike up a friendship when Karin was confronted by Toshiro’s second during one of their visits to the human world. Karin got that ‘don’t hurt him, or I

I’ll hurt you’ talk, which Karin quickly concurred and vowed to be a good friend to him. It shocked Karin to see her jaunty personality freeze over to solemnity, and immediately melt again after the serious words were said. She knew Rangiku wasn’t an idiot, she wasn’t a Lieutenant for nothing. Above all she was glad Toshiro had her. “I heard Karin was coming to visit so I wanted to come say hi!” And when she meant ‘hi’, that meant suffocating Karin in her bosom, and not for the first time. Though after learning first hand about Rangiku’s affectionate nature, she could understand how someone like Toshiro found it a tad aggravating. Karin smiled up at her as she pulled back from the hug, “It’s nice to see you again Rangiku.” “Likewise,” Rangiku smiled gently and stepped back, “So what does Karin Kurosaki have planned for this visit?” She seemed much too hopeful for some reason, and Karin had a feeling she knew what it entailed. Again, Rangiku wasn’t an idiot. But lying wasn’t Karin’s forte so she might as well be honest. “I was gonna visit Toshiro, if he isn’t busy.” She gulped. Rangiku’s eyes lit up like it was Christmas morning, squealing and giving Karin another hug that once again suffocated her. Seems like that was exactly what she wanted to hear. “Oh wonderful! He’s not busy at all, and he’ll be overjoyed to see you! You really grew up didn’t you?” Rangiku’s narrowed gaze and lilted voice made Karin blush. Her tone was definitely suggestive but she wasn’t wrong. Karin had a small growth spurt amidst puberty, her hair got longer, still in a ponytail. “Who knew you’d grow up into such a beautiful woman?” She didn’t know how but her cheeks flushed even more. “Wait until the Captain sees you-” “Rangiku!” Karin exclaimed, throwing her hands up to cover her face, suddenly feeling self conscious. Not only at Rangiku’s boldness but the fact that Rangiku, who was one of the most beautiful women she’d met, just complimented her like that. Rangiku only laughed, brushing a lock of hair behind her shoulder. “Come on let’s go!” Suddenly Karin was being dragged away to the 10th barracks no doubt, left to look over her shoulder to watch Rukia smirk and give a wave before turning to leave the gate as well. Rangiku let Karin catch her breath, and they walked in silence, until Karin had a thought, “I can’t help but wonder if Toshiro’s grown at all, like an inch maybe? He told me you guys aged differently here.” “Oh yes, we do! I haven’t done much aging in a looong time. Kind of a perk dontcha think? I’ve looked like this for ages,” Rangiku smiled brightly while flaunting and she had every right to, she knew she was beautiful. Karin would be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t envious. As a human you have so little time compared to the time you have as a shinigami. Though the profession is dangerous, so there’s that to consider. Karin remembers when Toshiro explained the way of reincarnation and the way things worked for souls. A weight she didn’t realize she had was lifted from her shoulders that day. “And Toshiro?” Rangiku’s smile turned mischievous again but Karin was too busy looking ahead at the continuing street. “The Captain’s grown a tad, nothing too drastic.” “Oh.” Karin chuckled, that meant she’s probably still taller than him. “So I can still make height jokes.” She smiled smugly, looking forward to his disgruntled face, it was so cute when he got embarrassed. “Oh I’m sure,” was the last thing Rangiku said before they rounded the corner and they arrived at their destination. Karin’s stomach started doing somersaults, and while it had to do with the fact that she was incredibly nervous, she was also very excited. But the reality of their time apart is hitting her once again and she didn’t know how to feel about it. “Don’t be nervous.” Rangiku’s voice was suddenly softer, warmer, almost motherly. And once again, Karin was being read like a book by another shinigami. Damn, she needed to work on her poker face. All Karin could do was give her a small smile before she realized they were right outside of his office. All that stood between them was  a sliding door, and suddenly her hands were clammy.

One last gulp, “Okay,” was all Karin could say.

And Rangiku being Rangiku, gave Karin no time to think before she promptly shouted, “Oh Captaaain!” and slid the door open with gusto causing Karin to jump and for the captain seated at the desk to snap his head up in alarm. But it was not Toshiro. No, Toshiro was cute and albeit attractive according to Karin, and this man was not cute. He was downright gorgeous. He was devastatingly handsome. Nope, not Toshiro. This was an imposter.

But, amidst her gaping, Karin noticed his hair was white, like Toshiro’s, and his eyes were that cerulean color that made her weak in the knees, like Toshiro’s. He was sitting in Toshiro’s seat, wearing a white haori like Toshiro did, and they were definitely in the Squad 10 offices. So, it has be- “Toshiro?” Karin croaked. Her eyes blown wide, her feet still planted at the doorway, while Rangiku buzzed next to her watching the whole exchange.

“Karin?” Oh god, even his voice was an octave lower. His eyes mirrored hers in that they were wide with shock. He couldn’t believe she was here, in the Seireitei, in his office. He also couldn’t believe that was Karin. But the more he looked at her the more he saw the familiar features he made sure to memorize, along with some noticeable new ones.. She was beautiful, and he thought he had the term defined already with a picture of her. It was still her, but he needed to update his memory it seemed. Her hair was still jet black and in a ponytail, only it was longer and a lock laid over her shoulder, her eyes were still as captivating as always, a grey abyss he’d gladly succumb to if asked. And her body, she was definitely an adult. She definitely grew up, but, so did he. What must she think of his new look? He was too starstruck to notice her eyes darken and her brows drop down in anger. “I can’t believe you!” Her fury replaced her nerves and she was suddenly marching across the threshold, fists tight at her sides, “You are such,” She grabbed the nearest object to her which was a pillow from the couch in the middle of the room and lobbed it at his head which Toshiro barely dodged, “an asshole!” Another pillow, only this time he caught it with both hands, using it as a shield for the third pillow. Toshiro wasn’t unfamiliar with Karin’s wrath, however, that didn’t mean he was happy with being at the end of it. Speaking of, her aim has dramatically improved. Anyway- “Karin-” “It’s been years Toshiro-” “I’m sorry-” “You could’ve visited-” “I know I-” “And you went and grew up! Looking like a fucking model all of a sudden and not even telling me!” A model? “Let me explain-” “No you are going to listen to me!” Karin was panting, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she stood in the middle of the room staring him down. Toshiro fought against his instinct to shout back and promptly shut his mouth, his brows creased in regret. She was shaking with rage and she was on the precipice of breaking something, preferably his face, but- shit Rukia was right. Again. “You don’t get to sit there on your ass when you never bothered to visit after years Toshiro. Years! When Ichigo got back from the war I had to hear that you were okay from him because of course I worried. I thought we were friends, I thought we-” “We are friends!” Toshiro couldn’t take that disappointed look anymore, but she was wrong. They were friends. Friends. “I thought we were closer than that.” Karin finished her thought, her energy depleting, shoulders starting to sag. He didn’t know which was worse. Karin angry, or sad. He just didn’t like it when she was upset. And he was the cause of it. Seeing her hang her head made his heart ache, and not in the way it usually did when he looked at her.

Toshiro had all the words he wanted to say on the tip of his tongue, but he was speechless. Part of him knew this day was bound to come around, he just wished he could’ve been prepared. But then again, expect the unexpected, especially with Karin. He couldn’t hate himself more than he did at this moment.

“I’m so sorry Karin,” His voice lifted her head and they locked eyes, his full of regret and hers, disappointment. “I-” This was harder than he thought, his chest hurt, his hands were stiff, and all he wanted was to see Karin happy, but he didn’t know how to make it happen, but she deserved an explanation. “I should’ve visited you. I wanted to. So badly. Even after things settled, I was so caught up in everything, I didn’t realize how long it’d been. I lost track of time. I’m sorry Karin. I was- I am an idiot. The last thing I wanted was to make you feel neglected and I went and did it anyway.”

Taking a hasty breath, he pushed himself to stand, rounding his desk and standing in front of her , only the usual roles were reversed and he was now looking down on her. No, it didn’t feel right. He towered over her and yet he felt as small as can be. Karin was still silent, ignoring his height for the moment, though she wasn’t entirely surprised given his changes. Changes she wished she could’ve witnessed sooner. Her eyes were glassy, tears on the brink of falling down her cheeks, but she willed them to stay. Until she watched Toshiro drop to his knees and bow before her, resting his head at her feet. She almost didn’t hear the tiny gasp that came from behind her, she’d completely forgot Rangiku was here, witnessing this all. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness Karin, but still, I’m so so sorry.” Karin was.. astonished to say the least. She expected an apology, but she didn’t expect this. Toshiro did many things, overwork himself, scowl, eat unhealthy amounts of amanatto, but he never did anything half-assed. Here was Toshiro Hitsugaya, a Captain of the 13 Court Guard Squads, bowing with his head at the feet of a simple human. Maybe not simple, but human nonetheless. Any bystander would argue that this was completely preposterous, but they wouldn’t know that Toshiro viewed Karin in the highest regard. He knew how much he royally fucked up, and he’ll spend the rest of his life trying to make up for it. “Look at me.” The closeness of her words startled Toshiro and he slowly lifted his head to see her knelt in front of him. Now it was his turn to be astonished. It wasn’t unlike Karin to be gentle when she wanted but Toshiro couldn’t understand why she would want to, he neglected their friendship for years and now she was smiling at him. Expect the unexpected. Toshiro held his breath. Karin huffed and her smile widened, “Don’t be so dramatic,” she didn’t stop herself from using her finger to brush his hair from his face. The gentlest touch, from hands that could do plenty of damage. She should’ve socked him, he knew he deserved it, he would’ve taken it. But instead, she was caressing his face. Not that he was complaining, it was just oddly uncharacteristic of her. She really had changed after all this time. They both did. Toshiro kicked himself for not witnessing it. “I forgive you, but don’t do it again.” She smacked his head, not enough to actually hurt, but enough to get the point across. He spoke too soon. This was definitely Karin though. Rubbing his head, he slowly sat up and back on his haunches, even while hunching, he was still looking down at her. It was so odd to him. But he’d have to get used to it it seems. At least there wouldn’t be any more height jokes. “Thank you, I don’t deserve it.” He said, watching Karin get to her feet and offer her hand to help him up. “Yes you do. You said sorry. That’s all I wanted. We’re adults now.” “You threw pillows at me.” “You deserved that. ” “...Yeah.” Toshiro sighed. A moment of silence passed until Karin spoke again. “I mean it, don’t do this again. I won’t be so forgiving.” “It won’t happen again. I promise.” Toshiro gave a gentle squeeze to her hand which he never let go. The simple action made her blush, looking down to their entwined hands and up his arm, which were much longer, and then to his broad shoulders, and finally back up to his face, much higher than she was used to. “And don’t grow anymore. You’re like a giant now. It’s gonna be annoying having to look up at you.” And as easy as that they were back to bickering, the tension filtered out of the room as easily as a simple breeze, and they were both thankful. “For what it’s worth, I’m not a fan either.” Toshiro noted, scowling at his new height and features which he still hasn’t gotten used to. All these years he complained about his height and now he realizes he should’ve been more careful with what he wished for. And on top of that, he was getting an increasing amount of attention which Rangiku pointed out was thanks to his sharpened features. Not his cup of tea. “I never said I wasn’t a fan.”

Karin’s words made blood rush to Toshiro’s face, did she just- Maybe it’s his cup of tea after all, if it’s Karin’s attention. That being said, he’d never wanted anyone’s attention more than hers, and now that he has it, he’s just a little alarmed. But in a good way, he thinks. And it made it easier to smile at her, even with a face redder than ever. But it was quickly replaced with a frown when he realized his Lieutenant just witnessed this entire scene with Karin, where she yelled, he bowed, she smiled, and he blushed. Her squeal made both Karin and him wince, looking over to see her jumping up and down with glee, then running over to pull them down into an uncomfortable hug. “I’m so happy for you too!” Rangiku was sniffling, squeezing the life out of them, and when she let them go they gave each other a confused glance before Toshiro spoke. “Why are you crying Matsumoto?” He asked, slightly worried and as well as confused. Karin looked softly at Rangiku, but still confused by her tears. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. You guys are just too cute together!”

Karin almost interjected to say that they weren’t together but what stopped her was another squeeze of her hand from Toshiro. A slow shake of his head told her to just let it go, and with further thought she realized convincing Matsumoto of anything was a difficult feat.

Later, after Toshiro escorted her to her family for dinner, dropping her off with the promise of seeing each other the next day, Karin thought about how even when walking through the Seireitei, they continued to hold hands. Toshiro paid it no mind it seemed, and while Karin wasn’t complaining, it still puzzled her.

Correcting his Lieutenant from time to time was normal for him, especially when it came to bold claims like this, but this time he refused. Did Toshiro reciprocate Karin’s feelings? Something about his behavior made her feel elated as well as nervous, they’d have to talk about it eventually. It would take some time for her to completely forgive him, but if what happened today was any consolation, everything would be okay.

They both can definitely sleep better tonight, and there was always tomorrow.

[catsafarithewriter]

Hey there! Can you recommend some good Haru/Baron fics? Btw, I've been reading yours and its awesome 💕

Sure thing, I’m always up for spreading the fandom love! I’ll be recommending between both AO3 and FFnet - our fandom is older than AO3, the fandom originated mostly on FFnet - actually, here’s a rundown of the writers who shaped the early fandom: 

YarningChick: The Big Name Writer. Over 50 TCR stories. Her stories are actually what made me realise fanfic could be hella decent, and the reason I started writing TCR fanfic. Most older fans will be familiar with her work, and her influence is pretty wide-reaching across the fandom. Her earlier stories are predominantly fluffy fairytale stories, but her more recent stories are darker and longer in comparison. 

Grignard: Was in the fandom about a decade ago, has mostly branched out into others now, but I still remember being hella excited when they wrote a new fanfic in 2013. 7 TCR fanfics, mostly fairytales. 

fringeperson: Also was in the fandom over a decade ago, wrote 30 TCR fics. Their stories are mostly oneshots and short multichaptered fics - the latter either fairytale AUs or sequels. 

There’s a big skew towards fairytale AUs, thanks to the influence of the early fandom writers, so that gets its own category, but most of the authors I mention below have written multiple stories for the fandom and/or are active members of the fandom. Please support them and leave reviews!

More recommendations of my personal favourites below the cut!

[EDIT: Tumblr hates my read mores, so just imagine there’s a “read more now” option here and not stuck in the ask.] 

FAIRYTALE AUs:

Falling From Grace? by fringeperson. Summary: The simple fact of the matter was that to be the only ex-human in the court of the Cat King was not a safe position. Especially when His Majesty's mental capacities are deteriorating. Chapters: 11. Words: 12K

The Reluctant Royal by Grignard. Summary: Haru  must complete three impossible tasks given by her Uncle, the King, while assisted by the mysterious Baron. Chapters: 5. Words: 13K

Till Next We Meet by ArtsyChick. Summary: Two men compete in a race against time to discover where four lovely princesses disappear in the night. The prize: one lovely princess bride. Chapters: 20. Words: 29K

Shades of Green by YarningChick. Summary: Life can be really tough when you're a witch, green, and happen to be despised by everyone that even hears of you. Chapters: 39. Words: 50K

MULTICHAPTERED FICS:

A Cat’s Repayment by Elz Durden. Summary: It began with a cursed candy. Don't the best stories? (Cat’s Note: basically a Ghibli cameo story, light-hearted and feels like reading Stardust. Go read!) Chapters: 15. Words: 33K

Engel’s Zimmer by Pashleyy. Summary: Haru, a senior in high school, bumbles upon the memory of her dearly beloved friend and visits him years after they last met. But what she finds is a nightmare beyond any warm and cozy Bureau. Chapters: 10. Words: 18K

Soul Searching by Ana the Romantic. Summary: It seems like it's always another day, another adventure for the bureau. Now that Haru has become a member and joining the adventures she and Baron only grow closer. But what happens when a new kingdom comes into play? Not to mention a new princess? (Cat’s Note: This was the first TCR fanfic I ever read, and it has a special place in my heart for it.) Chapters: 14. Words: 40K

Chaos & Change by QueenHeadphones Summary: It's Haru's first day working alongside The Cat Bureau, serving a very important role that has them depending on her. Although she's taken every precaution to prepare as much as she can, she'll find that some things can't be planned for. Chapters: 5. Words: 18K

To Know Oneself by YarningChick Summary: Sometimes, in order to find out who you truly are, you need to break a few rules. Or as many as possible; whichever works. (Gotta fit a YC story in here somewhere!) Chapters: 29. Words: 156K

ONESHOTS:

Groundhogs and Russian Dolls by deedeeflowers Summary: Russian Doll AU. For the 2019 Birthday Bash. Haru is stuck in a time loop which keeps ending in her death and has to find out why. Far less dark than it sounds, seriously just go check out all deedeeflowers’ Birthday Bash work. Words: 7K.

Bittersweet Cinnamon by Sindy Sugar. Summary: Haru didn't know what to expect when she moved into her family's old home by herself. She had hoped for some peace from recent events. The last thing Haru expected was to be revisited by two familiar cats she thought she long forgotten. One-Shot AU. Horror. Words: 14K

One Last Cup of Tea by thedrunkenwerewolf Summary: Her adventure with the Bureau in the Cat Kingdom over, Baron has to let Haru go back to her own life in her own world. The only problem is, as soon as she does, she'll forget. Shortfic. AU. Angst. Words: 500

One Hit Wonders by YarningChick. Summary: The new home for my Cat Returns one-shots, two-shots, deleted scenes, and ideas that never evolved into a full-fledged story.

So, You Summoned the Ghost of Your Ancestors by Rowena Bensel Summary: [Written for the TCR Secret Santa 2019] Hiromi's best friend is a paranormal investigator, but she never really believed in ghosts and such. When she and her fiance find a ritual to summon their ancestors, they figure it wouldn't hurt to try it out. After all, there's no such thing as ghosts, right? Words: 2K

the happiness i’ve found with you by BookRookie12 Summary: He doesn't know how long this will last. He doesn't know if, when it ends, he'll ever see her again. But they've made sure he'll remember her forever, and isn't that kind of love enough by itself? Borrower AU. One-shot. Words: 2K

The Incident by Chaos Valkyrie. Summary: The Incident. That would go down in Feline Infamy forever. And will never be spoken of again. EVER. A humor fic. Words: 900

Cinderella by Nanenna Summary: When the king decides to hold a royal ball in his son's honor to which every eligible young lady in the kingdom is invited, it's not hard to guess just what his aim really is. Not that such things matter to Haru, she just wants to have a night off for once. Words: 6K

Haru at the Theater by Casandravus Summary: A regular member of her local theater troupe, Haru's been cast as the beautiful Christine Daaé - but on opening night, there's not a Phantom (or his understudy) to be seen... Words: 2K

New Eyes and Extra Color by Kangoo Summary: Hiromi has known Haru for so long, it's easy to notice all the little ways she's changed lately.

The Lady or the Tiger by StripedSunhat Summary: By the time Hiromi realizes the truth she’s already been gone for more than a year. Haru is gone. Hiromi is left picking up the pieces, sorting through them for the truth. Haru is gone. Hiromi is left, trying figure out what the truth is worth. Haru is gone. 7K

[swisstae]

Fic Writer Interview

thank you, @erebeus-roxy darling for tagging me!!

Name: swisstae (swiss, if you like!)

Fandoms: ooh okay, so I started off with BTS (and as a consequence, never understood ship wars because I literally shipped any and all combinations 😅) but then moved on to Marvel (which was also brilliant and made me actually get started with writing) and right now, I’m a HP stan, which I feel has helped me really grow into my style of writing? I dunno, really. a lot of what I’ve written is fluff (which does NOT come easily to me, believe it or not.) but the angst pieces I have written give me great joy.

I’ve dabbled in Sherlock, Eyewitness, Suits and the Carry On universe, but I’ve only got a couple of abandoned WIPs for all of them to show 😂 but honestly, #philkas for life, bitches.

(this turned out to be longer than I thought, so if you continue reading, you are truly insane. and blessed. thank you.)

Where you post: my ao3 has all my completed works (and this sad, half abandoned WIP I started to post for a discord bingo and promptly forgot how to continue.) and I’ve recently started using tumblr (can you tell how bad I am at this? I’ve only had tumblr since like. fucking August.) to post stuff.

Most popular one shot: huh. probably my HP Sudsfest fic, love me now (touch me now) or my stuckony fic, knockin’ me with your american thighs, baby (which is probably my only proper sm*t fic lol)

Most popular multichapter: I only have ONE. just the one. and it’s that horrible, abandoned WIP I talked about, so I guess I actually have none.

Favorite story I’ve written so far: hands fucking down, it has to be slipping through the cracks (of your cold embrace). every time i think about this fic, I’m always so astounded at the fact that the words had made their way out of me and onto the blinking screen. it’s my longest fic and I’m just. really fucking proud of it.

Fics you were nervous to post: all of them. even when it’s been double checked and triple checked by a trillion times, and gone through a vigorous beta.. i’m always nervous. but it probably has to be my first HP fic. which is the one I was most proud of, as seen above. (yes, this is me shamelessly trying to self plug it multiple times. 😂)

because I’d been writing in Marvel only, as I was very nervous about how my current subscribers would react/ how the HP community would receive it.

How do you choose your titles: either they’re horribly pretentious, or they’re song lyrics. (in the rare occasions that I can be persuaded, they’re cracky.)

Do you outline? fuck off. what’s an outline?

Complete: all, except that damned fic I’ve mentioned one too many times.

In progress: uh. like seventy something? I have a LOT of ideas.

Coming soon: okay I promised someone Christmas smut, but it may be more in time for New Years! (sorry hehe 😅) and this horribly angsty piece I’m currently working on.

Prompts: I have a whole kissing prompt list I circulated a month or so back... you’re welcome to leave prompts in my asks, but. I might get to them sometime in the next year. (haha, get it? because it’s almost next year? no? okay, just me.)

I’d love to see @sparkly-angell and @full-fledged-cumberbitch do this??

[doodling-dood]

I haven’t written a fic or anything, but I have an idea dump and some old art lying around.  This is my most recent Angel Falls artwork.  (I’ll upload the rest when Tumblr stops being stupid.)

Click the Read More for the idea dump, AKA the cleaned-up and expanded version of a string of texts I sent to my girlfriend.  Spamming her is an integral part of my creative process.

Ford and Stan live at the Mystery shack together as loving brothers, and Stan runs the tourist trap to fund Ford’s research.  Everything is beautiful and nothing hurts.

Angel Dipper visits Gravity Falls to investigate a tree with magical properties.  He’s 200 feet in the air when he finds out that the tree can nullify/weaken his powers.  Stan finds him and Angel Mabel trying to get him untangled from the tree.

Stan doesn’t believe they’re actually angels, but Mabel talks him into helping them anyway.  He brings them to the Shack to patch up Dipper. They hit it off.  Dipper finds one of Ford’s journals and spends hours with it.  Mabel discovers the wonders of human knick-knacks.  Stan is so not attached.

The twins explain that they wanna stay in Gravity Falls but they’re not full-fledged angels yet so they would need a hideout or guardians or something.  Stan agrees to house his totally-human, not angels-in-disguise nephew and niece as long as they pull their weight. But if Ford comes back and says the twins are harpies after all, Stan will boot their butts halfway across the planet.

Ford comes back a few days later like “Wait Stan, what do you mean we have a nephew and niece? What angels?  Angels don’t exist—holy shit those are real wings.  Is this a new species?  No Stan, harpies have a different skeletal structure and OMG WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME THIS ONE LIKES DDnD WHERE’S MY ILLEGAL 20-SIDED DIE”

Dipper is just happy to meet the author. He’s become a fanboy in less than a week. Of course the twins have become besties with Soos and Wendy by now too, so they’re all a big happy family.  Cue giant triangular wrench in the middle of everything.

Dipper does lots of expeditions and stuff, but he can’t join Ford out of town without Mabel.  (Humans can’t help if any angel-specific issues happen, so the twins are careful to stick together just in case.) Dip inevitably runs into Bill during a solo expedition around town. Dipper thinks Bill is human, albeit really weird. Bill is also pretty knowledgeable about lots of things, and Dip starts to like having him around while he explores.

He tries not to freak out when Bill calls him an angel, because that’s just a thing people say sometimes. (Stan averted that crisis already, thank you very much.) But whoops, turns out Bill means it literally. Dipper is like “omg how did you find out” and Bill says angels have visited Gravity Falls before, and Dipper isn’t very worldly yet so he stands out.

Bill introduces Dipper to all kinds of new stuff (pranking manotaurs, different foods, gay make-outs. The works.)  They get pretty close, even though Bill kinda avoids the Shack and Ford.

Then one day Dipper finds a brown feather on his wings. He freaks because he’s heard stories about angels falling and becoming demons with jet black wings, and he can’t figure out where he screwed up or what to tell Mabel. So he keeps it to himself and hopes it goes away.

Bill gets Dipper to confess what’s bothering him.  When Dipper shows him his wings, Bill gets oddly quiet, but humans get that way about angel wings so Dipper doesn’t question it.  Also Bill gives great wing rubs.  Dipper is very distracted.

Still, Dipper keeps finding brown feathers, and the best option is to go back to heaven and repent for whatever tainted him. He doesn’t want to leave though, and if he tells Mabel they need to go back then she’ll want to know why. Mabel and the Stans can tell he’s edgy but Dip brushes it off. Bill finds him by himself stressing out. Dip shows Bill his wings and they’re almost totally brown.

Bill is like “wow you progressed pretty fast” “Wtf you KNEW this would happen?”

And surprise, it’s a symptom of free thought. Dipper has done some critical thinking about the way heaven is run, and once an idea gets in your head you can’t un-think it.  Dipper freaks out because he can’t turn into a demon, demons are hideous and do unspeakable things and they EAT angels!

And Bill is all “Oh come on, do I look like I’m gonna take a bite out of you?” “You’re a demon?” “Did I not mention that?”

Dipper does the logical thing and runs away. He tries to fly back to heaven for an emergency visit, but he can’t get through the portal thing.  It’s like a glass ceiling.  He hits it and falls back into a bunch of trees.

He keeps trying until he’s a scruffy mess. He would do it again but Bill stops him before he seriously hurts himself.  Dipper doesn’t want anything to do with Bill, and if he doesn’t get back up there, he’s going to turn into a freaking monster, so he tries to fly away again.

Bill tells Dip he’s not gonna turn into a demon, but Dipper doesn’t believe him. So Bill brings out HIS wings and wraps them up in them before Dipper can get off the ground.  And dipper stops because wait, bill’s wings are entirely gold, not black.

They’re not much good for flying since they’re made out of metal. So yeah bill is grounded but it’s not about being tainted or whatever. He’s self-serving and materialistic, so his wings look like king midas got to them.

Dipper’s wings turn dark like soil, since he’s learning and growing from his experiences on earth. But Dipper can still fly, so he’s a fallen angel, not a demon. He still can’t go home though, and he wants to keep trying even though it won’t work, so Bill clips his wings to stop him from flying too high and hurting himself.

That’s as far as I got.  So, uh, enjoy the unresolved plot.

[earth-ambassador-jim]

Tagged by @yellowmagicalgirl

Ao3 name: Jormus

Fandoms: Tales of Arcadia, Gravity Falls, Boku no Hero Academia, and the occasional miscellaneous.

Number of fics: 40 (Those two of those are compilations of oneshots)

Fic you spent the most time on: Hard to say since I don’t really keep track of that sort of thing. Probably either Changeling Loyalties or And Then There Were Three since they are my two longest fics. I’ve put a lot of time and energy into writing and editing them.

Fic you spent the least time on: “A Lesson Learned” or one of my other dabbles. I have a number of those. I pretty much just write them as a stream of consciousness.

Longest fic:  Changeling Loyalties 

Shortest fic:  A Lesson Learned

Most hits: And Then There Were Three

Most kudos:  Desperate Measures  Not surprising considering it combines two super popular fandoms (Gravity Falls and Boku no Hero Academia)

Most comment thread: Changeling Loyalties

Fave Fic you wrote: I’ve always had a bit of fondness for The Black Dog (Gravity Falls) and I’m also quite fond of In Jars of Clay (Trollhunters). I think I like their tones. Also Warning Signs

Fic you want to rewrite/expand on:

Probably “Ghosts and Yokai” it was my first fic that I took down a while back for reasons that had nothing to do with the fic itself. I found its flashdrive recently so I’m kinda tempted to go over it and put it back up.

Share a bit of your WIP or share a story idea you’re planning:

As predicted, as soon as the meeting let out almost everyone scattered. They would have a “Back to Earth” party once everyone had a chance to see their families and friends. Jim took a leisurely stretch as he got out of his chair, tail curling languidly behind him.

“You want to go get some glug?” Arak, one of his troll crewmates asked.

“No thanks,” Jim said. “I’m going to just go back home. Get a change of clothes. Maybe train at the Forge a little.”

“I’m still not sure why you keep up with that. I know you’re the Trollhunter and all, but now the police handles all that stuff. We’re ambassadors not fighters.”

Jim shrugged.

“Habit I guess. Anyway, you underestimate how useful combat skill can be if a mission goes bad or you run into something that wants to eat you… Besides back when I was starting out almost everyone did combat training… It’s just a cultural thing I guess.”

Arak snorted and shook his head.

“Riiiiight. Sometimes I forget that you’re really my Dad’s age. How do you keep looking so young?”

“It’s my skin care routine,” Jim said, deadpan.

Arak laughed and clapped him on the shoulder, leaving him with another offer to join him at the bar before they parted ways.

~This is from “Twist in Time” A time travel AU story that I haven’t posted yet. Future Jim works as an interplanetary ambassador for earth (*gasp* the secret origin of my blog name) and due to shenanigans he gets sent back in time and interrupts Bular’s fight with Kanjigar.

It will be a while before I even consider posting this sucker but I really just enjoy the idea. This piece leans a bit more toward humor. It’s also kind of fun because Jim has actually made it to being a full fledged stable adult so he’s a very different Jim to write than I usually do and sees things from a very different perspective.

I’m low-key tempted to do some oneshots in this au too.

[curiosity-killed]

masks

@aurumdalseni​ I’m so sorry for how long this took, but I had to talk myself out of making it a full-fledged long fic D:

send me a ship and a number and I’ll write a short fic

34. meeting at a masquerade ball au

Word Count: 3296

Swans and swallows and hawks twirl past, their wings made of skirts and tailcoats rather than feathers. A few of the most eccentric guests have entire nests woven into their hair, tiny little eggs perched gem-like among the branches. "We'll call it 'Flights of Fancy,'" Lance had declared, sprawled on his back on the chaise. "People will love it." Shiro had raised a dubious eyebrow at the time, but now, it seemed Lance's judgment had proven keen. The guests fill the hall to bursting, a flock of fine absurdity. Underneath his own mask, he itches with discomfort. Despite the extravagance of so many other masks, it's hard not to feel ridiculous with half a crow's wing across his face. "Relax," Allura chides. "You look dashing."

There's a teasing lilt to her tone that makes him roll his eyes. He'd elbow her for that, but they're not in the field right now, and they ought to pretend at propriety. For the princess to be lingering with her royal guard instead of dancing is already enough to have some older nobles' noses twitching.

"That's easy for you to say when you look regal even in chainmail," he retorts. She laughs and preens, just a little. The dress she's wearing is a startling white that nearly matches the starshine color of her hair and makes her dark skin that much more radiant. It sweeps down in featherlike ripples that make him think equally of a swan as of a white-capped ocean. Allura has always worn beauty and ferocity equally well. "Go dance with someone," he grumbles good-naturedly. "The courtiers are starting to make a line." It wasn't wholly untrue: half a dozen young nobles were trying their best to hover unobtrusively in the hopes that they might get to ask the princess for a dance before the others. "Fine. But you have to at least dance once tonight," she says, "or I'll insist on pole-arm practice at dawn." She can't see his expression under the mask, but he still turns an unimpressed look her way. Of the two of them, he's far more likely to be up at sunrise anyway. More often than not, he knocks at her chamber doors to rouse her for morning drills. Now, she rolls her eyes and waves off his unspoken objection. "At least one dance!" she calls over her shoulder as she finally turns to the waiting partners. “One dance,” he mutters, turning back to the room at large. It shouldn’t feel so daunting. Once upon a time, back before the war, he would have spent the whole night dancing. He’s always had restless feet, a restless heart, ill-suited to sitting idle. Movement has been his most constant state, and what better way to move than to music, among friends? Now, though, his skin starts crawling when his back faces the doors, and partners shy away from the metal of his hand. It will be good for him. Probably. One isn’t so overwhelming, after all, even if it takes a few rejections first. Failure stings less with familiarity. Someone has said that before – or something like it, anyway. “Are you looking for someone in particular?” The low voice, too close, makes him whip around, hand reaching for a sword that isn’t at his hip. It’s laid out on his dresser in his rooms because arms are forbidden at balls and social functions. Because this is court, not a battlefield, and it isn’t some enemy soldier who’s snuck up on him but a tall, trim man who’s now stepped back with his hands raised. Great job, Takashi. Scaring the man off before he even had a choice in the matter. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” the man says, and Shiro’s mouth closes, his own apology aborted. “I didn’t think about the noise covering my steps.” “No, that’s alright,” Shiro says. “I was caught up in my thoughts.” The man cants his head as if in understanding. “To answer your question, though, no, I’m not looking for anyone in particular,” Shiro continues. He doesn’t explain the rest, that he was trying to decide who would be most likely to dance with him and not ask too many questions or read too much into it. The thought alone makes heat crawl up the back of his neck. “Well, that is a relief,” the man admits. Shiro tilts his head in question, and the man obliges. “I was hoping to ask you for a dance.” There’s a beat of silence as they look at each other, until finally, it sinks in and Shiro realizes he’s actually asking. “Oh! Yes, thank you,” he says. “Would you prefer to lead or follow?” the man asks, one slender hand extended. “I’m fine with either,” Shiro says, settling his hand in the man’s upturned palm, “but I can follow this time.” The room is filled to bursting, and the only spot they can find is along the side, near enough they have to stay close on turns or risk hitting the wall. Up close like this, Shiro is surprised at how small he feels next to the man. He’s always been on the tall end of average, but now, the man has to curve a little to meet his gaze. His mask is of a strange bird: purple and white feathers fan over his face in a pattern Shiro doesn’t recognize. “It’s a medicine bird,” the man explains. “My friend’s idea of a joke.” “You’re a doctor, then?” Shiro asks. The man leads him in a turn so that their arms meet at the wrist as they promenade. Around the room, all the couples are in the same posture. “I am,” affirms the man. “I was a field medic, but I’ve been more inclined to research recently.” A field medic here in the princess’s court? Even with the open doors of Allura’s court, he must have friends of some high rank. “And what brings a doctor to a masquerade?” Shiro asks. “Business,” the man says, and his tone makes Shiro suppress a smile of commiseration. “My commander and I have a meeting with the princess in the morning.” Behind his mask, Shiro raises his eyebrows. As captain of the princess’ guard, he knows her daily schedule and the meetings she has planned. “You’re Galra, then,” he says. The man pauses, halfway through bringing Shiro back into closed position. They are one of the only points of stillness in the sea of dancers. “I am,” he says, “but I swear we are on Altea’s side and not that of the emperor.” Shiro nods with a little hum of assent. Adrenaline still thrums under his skin at the proximity of the Galra, half-obfuscated memories screaming for him to fight or flee. He suppresses them with familiar ease, and not only because this isn’t the proper place for a scene. The man can’t know it, but Shiro was the one to convince Allura to meet with the Galra in the first place. He feels suddenly like some accidental spy, roped by circumstance into new reconnaissance. “And how are you finding Altea so far?” he asks. “A delight,” the man answers. “It is a beautiful country and the people quite welcoming. I wish I could spend longer here; there’s so much we won’t be able to see.” Shiro smiles, pleased by the sincerity of the assessment. Though he isn’t from Altea originally, it’s become his home over the past several years. He takes pride in others’ wonder at it. “How long are you staying?” he asks. The song is nearly over, but Shiro isn’t quite ready to let go. He’s intrigued by this Galran doctor-cum-scientist, by his honest words and sure hands. The man pauses to glance at the musicians before turning to Shiro. There’s a little hesitation before he speaks. “Would you care for one dance more? Since the last was only half the song,” he suggests. “It’s only fair,” Shiro answers. The man relaxes under Shiro’s hand, and a little smile curls up his lips. They pause while the band changes to the new song. “We’re staying for a week,” he answers in the lull. “Oh, then you have plenty of time to see the city at least,” Shiro says. “Even the woods around it, perhaps. The natural wonders here are nearly magical.” “Nearly?” asks the man as they begin again, dubious. Shiro laughs as he’s spun around himself. So he’s heard the stories. “Well, maybe more than ‘nearly’,” he admits. “Still, it’s beautiful, and safe as long as you have a guide.” The man breathes out a laugh and settles his hand back on Shiro’s hip. Heat seeps from his broad palm and through Shiro’s tabard, but it’s settling, grounding. The weight of his hand keeps Shiro close without being confining. “Then I’ll have to find a guide,” the man says. His voice is gentle and a little amused. It rumbles through his chest in a way that Shiro can almost feel. “And you?” the man asks. “You don’t have the accent of an Altean.” “No,” Shiro admits, “I’m from Terra – a small country to the north.” Most people at court hadn’t heard of it except through the paladins, and there were those in the Alliance who grumbled about all the paladins coming from such a small, primitive nation. He could understand the frustration but didn’t let it bother him much. They had no say over who the lions chose and if, someday, Black chose a new paladin, he would not object. Well, not too much. There was some room for fallibility with semi-sentient legendary weapons. “I’ve heard of it,” the man says. “How did you come to the court, then?” “Business,” Shiro replies, a little teasing. It earns him a small smile, and he shakes his head. “No, it was more luck than anything else. My party and I befriended an Altean party on the road, and the rest is history.” It’s broadly true, even if he’s omitting key details such as the Altean party being the lost princess and her spymaster and the friendship being born of a mutual need for support against a Galra attack. If the man had paid any attention to the recent history of Altea, and to be at court he must, then too many details would be a dead giveaway for Shiro’s identity. As much as he doesn��t feel inclined to lie to the man, he’s enjoying this brief foray in anonymity. “Some would call that fate,” the man remarks. Fate – or a very stubborn pride of lions. Shiro gives a small smile and lifts his shoulder in a shrug. “Some would call all paths fate,” he says. “I like to think we have a little say in it.” He’s always hated the idea of destiny, that some omnipotent force determines every facet of their lives. There’s too much cruelty in the world, too much hate and pain, for him to believe that it’s the way it’s meant to be. If only for the sake of his own belief in their cause, he needs to believe that they can change it. “I’ve never been a believer in destiny myself,” the man admits. Shiro straightens, a little surprised and pleased by the answer. Even without being able to see his face, the man seems to pick up on the shift in his attention. “It has always seemed…complacent,” the man continues. “As if the world is meant to be this way just because it has been this way.” There’s a vehemence to his voice that’s barely contained, a passion not often seen in the artifice of court. “It sounds like this isn’t the first time you’ve considered this,” Shiro remarks, gently teasing. The man’s sure steps stutter a little, as if abashed. His amber eyes widen, framed by the purple feathers of his mask. “I – well, I suppose I have given it some thought,” he admits. He sounds a little embarrassed, as if he hadn’t realized how sure his earlier words had sounded. Shiro smiles, amused and a little endeared despite himself. “Maybe you should add ‘philosopher’ to doctor and researcher,” he says. And rebel. The Galra had been vague when describing themselves, only saying they were a society dedicating to resisting Zarkon’s rule. They’d refused to give a name or any example of how, exactly, they resisted, and Allura had been sure it was a trap. Shiro had argued in their favor based only on a gut feeling, wishful thinking more than hard evidence. After speaking with this man, Shiro’s more sure of that choice. He speaks like someone who truly believes in their cause. More than that, he’s surprised by how much he wants to find out more., wants to know the man without masks or the court between them. It’s been a long time since he felt such an immediate magnetism to someone – not since Adam, before Kerberos was even a dream. “Perhaps when I’ve retired,” the man concedes. “Maybe by then there will be some university vacancy.” “Sounds a little more comfortable than being a field medic,” Shiro remarks. The man laughs, low and rumbling, and doesn’t refute it. A little pleased with himself, Shiro suppresses a smile. The musicians begin their denouement, too soon by far. It isn’t really proper to stay with the man all night, and Shiro hates to trap him. For his part, the man seems equally loath to separate. “I guess I should let you go,” the man says. The last note sounds, but their hands remain together. “I don’t want to keep you,” Shiro says, reluctantly. The man gives a little smile and polite nod. “Then, thank you for the dances,” he says. “It has been a great pleasure.” “The pleasure is mine,” Shiro answers. “Perhaps we’ll run into each other while you’re still in Altea – without the masks.” He says it in a moment of rare bravery and is rewarded by a genuine smile from the man. “That would be a true pleasure,” he answers. The rest of the masquerade passes rapidly, and though Shiro finds himself with more partners than he expects, he only sees the man once more. He’s standing with another man, shorter but broader, and bent so as to hear the other above the noise of the crowd. He catches Shiro’s eye and, though it’s difficult to see from this distance, Shiro thinks he spies a small smile. Shiro has to suppress his own as he turns back to his new partner. After that brief moment, he doesn’t see the man again. A feeling of contentment and loss unfolds in his chest, bittersweet like the last petals of a rare and beautiful flower. He goes to bed with the consoling thought that at least he has pleasant memories of a lovely night. In the morning, he wakes with the sun and starts his exercises and routine. The first hours of the day are always his alone, with the rest of the palace yet asleep. He walks along the parapets and pauses to stretch under the young sun. After his patrol and breakfast and a meeting with some of the guard, he heads up to accompany Allura to her next meeting. She’s currently in the tallest of the towers, and the view through the windows becomes more incredible with each floor he passes. The great forest around the palace fills nearly his whole view, a sea of green. Birds flit through the ancient trees, bright flashes of color in the dappled light. The doors to this room are an ivory wood carved with an intricate depiction of the legend of the white lion, and careful lines of blue paint accentuate the quintessence around the deity. He raises his hand and knocks out his standard rhythm – one long, two quick, two steady – and waits only a moment before Allura calls for him to enter. He pushes open the doors with ease and settles in parade rest just inside. They’ll be leaving shortly, or Allura wouldn’t have had him join them. “I look forward to speaking with you further over the week, Kolivan,” Allura is saying. “It seems your Blades could offer significant aid to the Alliance’s efforts.” Kolivan nods, his square face set in a stern expression. There are lines on his face as if from frequent scowling, and the rust-red tattoo across his forehead is disconcertingly near the color of blood. A closer look, though, shows little smile lines by his eyes, too, and Shiro’s impression improves. The other man is tall and slender, with just as serious an expression though his face is unlined by wrinkles. He holds himself with the kind of composed stillness of a dancer or soldier – someone used to making intentional choices with their movement and energy. Broad shoulders taper into a strong waist. If it were to come to a fight, Shiro’s not sure he and Allura could take them easily. “May it be a worthy endeavor to find our common ground,” Kolivan says. Allura gives a slight nod before turning to include Shiro in their group. Kolivan and the other man follow the gesture as if they’ve finally been given permission to acknowledge him. “This is Takashi Shirogane, the Black Paladin of Voltron,” Allura says. Shiro nods in greeting. Were they some other royal or noble, he’d be expected to bow, but right now, he’s Allura’s show of force. In diplomatic negotiations like these, it isn’t proper for the princess to bring out her armor and staff, but even a reminder of Voltron provides a certain kind of force to her arguments.   “It is an honor, Paladin,” Kolivan greets. “It is a pleasure to meet you,” Shiro says, even if he isn’t meeting them in any real sense. In his periphery, the other man straightens just enough to make the back of Shiro’s neck prickle. He hasn’t heard anyone come up behind him nor any indication of an intrusion. Black would let him know if there something had happened elsewhere in the castle – surely. The man’s new attentiveness doesn’t lead to immediate action, though. Instead, he simply seems to watch Shiro a little more closely, his weight more forward on the balls of his feet as if in anticipation. "You'll have to pardon me - I have another meeting to attend - but we are headed in the same direction," Allura says.

It's a good sign. If the meeting had gone poorly, she would've had a guard escort them while she took a back route to her next meeting. They fall in together with Kolivan and Allura in front and Shiro in step with the other man. Allura and Kolivan pick up some earlier conversation almost immediately, and Shiro has to hide a smile. A successful meeting indeed. "I did not realize I danced with such a decorated partner," the man says, and Shiro freezes. He stops short and turns to the man to find a little, hopeful smile curling up his lips. Shiro's eyes widen before he laughs, delighted. The man's expression eases into a full smile. Now that his face isn't hidden by a mask, Shiro can see the way his smile lights his whole face, turns into gentle crinkles at the corners of his eyes. It's like the lighting of a candle, a gentle illumination. "We did say we wanted to meet without masks," Shiro laughs. “Yes, though I didn’t hope it would be so soon,” the man affirms, still smiling. He extends his hand. “My name is Ulaz.” Shiro accepts it, his own nearly small in Ulaz’s broad palm in long fingers. “Shiro,” he says, unnecessarily. He pauses, struck by an idea. “You know, you were looking for a guide for the forest. I might just know of one.” Ulaz’s smile curves up at the invitation, and Shiro feels something like hope unfold in his chest. There might be something here worth investigating after all.

[black-rose-writings]

Enemy of my enemy

Something a little longer inspire by a prompt by @atlawritingprompts

This can also work as a first chapter for a full-fledged fic. If people will like it, I might actually write it - even though I have like four other open projects. I really like this idea, though. I might do it regardless. There is now a full fic based on this.

Ao3 links: One-shots & Full fic

Zuko looked at the swords on the wall. The message came in just minutes before. If the captain didn’t take it, he probably would have burned it before reaching the signature.

That smug…

But it was obvious, wasn’t it? He should have known Zhao would be the one to win their little personal competition.

He left the command deck immediately and headed for his room. There still was a chance…

He never even stood a chance.

Where was the honor in sneaking around masked, stealing what he couldn’t get on his own?

Where was the honor in trying to appease someone, who marked him for life as unworthy?

He wanted to punch something.

He heard the door open and someone stepping in.

“Prince Zuko, you can’t lose hope,” his uncle tried to encourage him.

“I’ve been thinking uncle… my father never really cared, had he?” His voice was silent, betraying him as he spoke the treacherous words. “It was pointless.”

“I don’t think he did.” His uncle replied. He couldn’t force himself to turn around. “Are you going to give up?”

“I’m not.” he shook his head. The light blue stone with blue ribbon was heavy on his wrist. “But I’m not sure I can continue either.”

“So, what are you going to do?”

Something stupid.

“I don’t know.” he sighed. “Something. Anything.”

“You have a plan?”

“Maybe…” Could he tell him?

“I want you to know… I won’t stand in your way. Whatever you decide to do.”

“Even if it was technically treason?”

“Especially.” Iroh walked into the room and closed the door. “But don’t tell that to anyone.”

“My father won’t ever have me back – and the only person worse than him… in any way… is Azula.” Zuko continued. “I can’t leave the world to them.”

“That’s a wise choice.” Iroh nodded. Zuko finally turned around, clutching the blue necklace. “Be careful. What you’ll be doing is dangerous. And you know my brother is far from the most forgiving person around.”

Zuko nodded, thoughtlessly touching the scar on his face.

“It’s not like I have much more to lose, is it?”

“You may not. But I do.” Iroh smiled and hugged him. “I don’t think I could handle losing you, too.”

“Uncle… you don’t have to say it…” Zuko muttered, knowing way too well, what his uncle meant to say.

“I do.” Iroh smiled, as he let him go. “Ever since I lost my son… I though of you as my own.

“I know.” Zuko nodded. “Thank you. For everything.”

***

The forest was close. Just a little further.

The Avatar was shaking slightly from fear.

Just a little further and they would disappear in the forest.

But they didn’t make it.

The birds were singing. And someone was talking – the Avatar. He only caught last few sentences of whatever the boy was saying.

“You know what the worst part of being born over a hundred years ago is? I miss all the friends I used to hang out with. Before the war started, I used to always visit my friend Kuzon. The two of us, we'd get in and out of so much trouble together. He was one of the best friends I ever had, and he was from the Fire Nation, just like you. If we knew each other back then, do you think we could have been friends, too?”

Zuko blinked. His head still hurt – something must have hit him really hard. Or fast. Or both.

“Maybe.” he replied, sitting up, massaging the side of his head. “What happened?”

“You got hit in the head by an arrow.” Aang replied. “It broke the mask.”

Zuko looked next to himself, where his swords and pieces of the mask laid.

“And you dragged me away?” he asked in surprise.

“And waited for you to wake up.” Aang nodded. “You saved my life. I owed you that much.”

“From what I know about Zhao, death would be the last thing to happen to you.” he mentioned, sheathing the swords.

“He mentioned something like that, yes.” Aang nodded.

“Where are we?” Zuko asked.

“In the forest. I couldn’t get that far.”

“They’ll look for us here soon.”

“Us?”

“Well… what I did does consider high treason.” Zuko explained. “I want to help you.”

“Why?”

“Because once it turned out I actually had a chance of capturing you, my father gave Zhao everything he asked for and then some to do it first.” Zuko replied. “It’s clear he doesn’t want me to come back. So, why try?”

“So, you join us?” Aang asked him in surprise.

He finally stood up, looking around. His bag wasn’t far.

“Yes.” he replied, heading for the place where he hid it. Aang followed, curious look on his face. “It’s the only way I can change anything.”

He found his bag, covered hastily by leaves and sticks and pulled it over his shoulder.

“I’d be glad to have you on the team. But I’m not sure how Katara and Sokka are gonna feel about it.”

“I’ll do my best.” Zuko smirked a bit. The kid’s positivity seemed to be contagious.

***

“I’ll starts a fire.” Zuko offered and looked at the boy. Aang nodded and walked to his friends with the frogs.

Zuko pulled down the hood of his clothes and put more wood into the now-cold firepit. With a single movement, he lit the wood on fire.

The couple begun coughing and spat out the frogs.

“Thanks for the help Aang, but I think I still have hallucinations.” Sokka muttered, wiping his eyes, crawling out of the sleeping bag.

“No, I see him too.” Katara assured him. “Aang… what happened?”

“It’s… a long story. I went to the nearby monastery to find a cure. And this old lady sent me down to the swamp for the frozen frogs – but I got caught my these super precise archers.”

“Yuayn archers.” Zuko added, looking through his bad. His hair was out of his ponytail, so it would fit under the hood and he was pretty sure it must have looked positively ridiculous.

“Whatever they’re called.” Aang waved his hand. After wading in the cold water, it wasn’t the worst thing to have around. “They caught me and dragged me into Zhao’s fortress.”

Katara and Sokka looked at each other.

“That’s why you took so long…” Katara looked outside. The sky was dark gray, the morning sun gone. Aang was gone for almost a whole day. “I shouldn’t have been so angry.”

“And what about him? How is he involved?” Sokka asked. Zuko finally found the hair tie and pulled his hair back again. He didn’t seem to mind them.

“He saved me.” Aang explained. “We escaped Zhao’s fortress and almost got into the forest. Before those archers took him out. So I dragged him into the woods, before they could get to us.”

“I think I forgot to say thank you for that.” Zuko finally spoke up again. “So, thank you.”

“No problem.” Aang assured him. “When he woke up, he said he wanted to join us.”

“You got hit into the head pretty hard, didn’t you?” Sokka looked at him, reaching for his boomerang.

“It was the plan all along.” Zuko assured him. “I promised Aang an explanation, so I will tell it to all of you.”

“What explanation could there be?” Katara asked, taking a sip of water from the pouch, before passing it to Sokka.

“I think I should start from the beginning. I’m not telling you this to make you feel sorry for me. I don’t want that.” he shook his head. “I just want you to understand, why I’m doing this.”

“Just say it.” Sokka sighed, taking the water pouch from Katara.

“Fine. About three years ago, I went to a war meeting for the first time. I was about thirteen, and I hoped to prove myself to my father – and learn about running the country, since I was the primary heir.” Zuko looked into the flames. “I was just supposed to sit there and listen, but I heavily disagreed with one of the generals and said so… a little too vocally. The general took offence to what I said and honor demanded it was settled by Agni-Kai. A firebending duel. I thought I was going to fight some old general, who didn’t have to bend in a fight for longer than I was alive… but I was wrong.”

Katara noticed Zuko clutched his fist, but he didn’t his anger show otherwise. The flames seemed to feel it, too, as they have risen a bit. Their heat reached much further.

“An insult in Fire Lord’s war room is an insult to Fire Lord himself,” he said, almost like he repeated something once told to him. “And I couldn’t fight my own father. Backing out of Agni-Kai, or refusing to fight in it, is considered a great dishonor and cowardice.”

Almost thoughtlessly, he touched the scar on his face.

“My father burned me and banished me. Only way I could ever return was by bringing the Avatar with me.” Aang flinched away. “Which was seen as an impossible task. And until recently, it was.”

Zuko sighed.

“And once it proven possible, he sent Zhao with everything he could need and want for the hunt. Because it’s highest priority task, that can’t just be given to a unreliable teenager.” Zuko almost spat out the last sentence.

“You’re doing this to spite your dad?” Sokka looked at him in surprise.

“You can say it that way.” Zuko admitted.

“Your father made you that scar?” Katara asked. She seemed angry and somewhat… pitying at the same time.

Zuko nodded. “I told you I don’t want your sympathy.”

“That’s messed up.” Katara shook her head. “Next level messed up.”

“That’s not even a level.” Sokka nodded. “That’s thousand feet over the highest level.”

Zuko just looked at them. Just a minute ago, they were staring at him in contempt and mistrust. But now… they were angry. About what his father did to him.

He turned to his bag, looking through the things he brought. From the few pieces of clothing and a bag of food stuck out a blueish tube, tied around with a dark blue ribbon.

“I believe this is yours.” he said, as he untied it and handed Katara the necklace. She stared at it. “I know it means a lot to you. I’m sorry I took it.”

Katara didn’t say anything, just tied it around her neck.

“Thanks.” she smiled a bit.

“And… I brought you this. I thought you might find it useful.” he said, as he handed her the light blue scroll. “My uncle studied waterbending. He had several, but I only had time to take this one.”

“Waterbending scroll?” she carefully took it and opened it. It was definitely a different one than the one they were using. “This is really great.”

“Right. Great.” Aang nodded. “I should get some sleep before we take off. I didn’t get much tonight.”

“We’ll keep an eye on him.” Sokka assure Aang, as the boy jumped up on Appa’s back.

***

Katara fell asleep, soon, too. The two guys remained awake by the campfire. Zuko pulled out his swords and started cleaning them.

“Hey… Just so you know, I still don’t like you. And I don’t trust you. Aang is naïve, that he does.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else.” Zuko shrugged his shoulders. “I was surprised by the way you reacted.”

“It’s horrible. You know, in the Water Tribe, family is the most important thing you have – your family and your Tribe. Hurting one’s family… that’s unthinkable. Especially like that. I can’t imagine not being able to trust my own family.”

“It sounds great.”

“In that way, definitely.” Sokka nodded. “Our father, and most of the other men, left the Tribe two years ago – to join the war. I was the oldest guy left in the village. Only one left to defend it.”

“I saw that.” Zuko couldn’t help but smirk, before putting his swords away again.

“I tried, okay.”

“I’m not denying that.” Zuko assured him. “Actually, I wanted to ask you about something.”

“Okay. About what?”

“I happen to know a bit about Water tribe culture – from my uncle. And I know that that necklace is a betrothal necklace. If you were the only man our age left in your tribe…”

“What? I didn’t even know that.” Sokka shook his head. “It belonged to our Grandma once. Our Tribe isn’t much in terms of tradition, ever since the war. Maybe not even before that.”

“Oh… I thought…” Zuko blushed a bit and scratched his neck. Sokka almost burst out laughing, but tried to still himself, so he wouldn’t wake up the sleeping couple.

“You have a lot to learn.”

[undercovermcdfan]

the right impressions | vylance

summary: Dad AU. First introductions is everything. Vylance. Ensemble piece.

a/n: so y’all know the Dad AU—either from my own yelling/fics or @crybabytime’s beautiful comics (click here to go through her tag!), and honestly? I want to make a full-fledged, multi-chaptered fic of  it one day. For now, here’s a fic featuring Laurance reintroducing Vylad as his partner to the kids and their reactions. Lowkey, I’ll probably will write a drabble about Zenix & Laurance’s talk

warning(s): divorce ment.

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Laurance’s reassuring voice did little to ease his nerves.

“Just act as you normally do—Vylad, they love you,” Laurance said, albeit a little distracted as the clanks and shuffling of the kitchen in the background, “Maybe even more than me.”

Normally, the little statement at the end would make him chuckle and rolled his eyes affectionately. Though the sincerity of Laurance’s tone tempted him to believe in it, believe his reassuring lie… Vylad felt his cynical side jab at the misuse of love in this situation.

Did Laurance’s kids like him? Maybe. But love, he wasn’t sure.

They saw him now and again, though his travels thanks to work kept him from being a constant visitor in the household. They knew him as Uncle Vylad—to the three younger children, he was called this because he was a friend of Laurance; Zenix, the eldest, knew he was their other father… ex-father…? err, Garroth’s youngest brother and was their actual uncle. The friendly face who helped occasionally and had dinners whenever spare time allowed it; he honestly wondered if they could see him as something, something more.

Travis’s eyes always lit up joyfully when he came around, but curiosity and soft-hearted was his nature.

Isabel, while warming up to him slower than Travis, looked to him with admiration and didn’t hesitate to greet him now with open arms.

Malachi was only a baby, and he wasn’t sure if babies really have the “hate” and “love” idea down pat; but even with his little experience, the mild-mannered child still smiled and felt at ease with his presence, so that must’ve meant something.

Only child who looked to him with suspicion, keeping his distance… was Zenix. Though the nature of his and Laurance’s relationship wasn’t revealed yet, with how Zenix acted around him almost made Vylad wonder—did he know already? When the other children expressed their approval in their own way, Zenix’s judgmental eyes were the ones who reminded Vylad that the statement of ‘They love you’ was faulty.

But he couldn’t drag his feet forever.

This was long overdue— and it would be a strange to admit to his boyfriend of the past year that the only reason he’s having cold feet was thanks to his perceptive son.

If it weren’t for genuine nervousness and anxiety feeding thoughts of ‘is this too big of a change? Maybe it’s too soon.’, he’d almost laugh at the absurdity—wasn’t it in most relationships, the parents were the nerve-racking obstacle one would fret over? Not a seven-year-old child with eyes that almost feel although they could pick apart his weakness.

He breathed in, shifting the flowers in his hands as he reached to press the doorbell.

He breathed out.

Laurance’s voice echo in his mind: Just act as you normally do.

Safe to say the flowers didn’t lasted so long.

Travis and Isabel immediately asked for them after they shouted hellos and hugged his legs, nearly knocking him over; they greedily reached up, blues and greens brightly shone with wide smiles—and in truth, Vylad was a weak man and quickly conceded the flowers to the kids.

The house was filled with a delicious smell—which meant, as usual, the dinner won’t disappoint. Eventually, Laurance poked his head into the hall way, hair tied into a bun and bangs pushed back by a headband as he wiped his hands onto his apron; his face, similarly to Travis and Isabel, lit up, though with a little relief mixed in.

“Always one for punctuality, huh,” Laurance mused, stepping into the hall and halfway meeting Vylad for a tight hug, “I’m going to put the finishes touches to dinner—make yourself comfortable, the kids already set the table.”

“Oh, I-I’ll do that, um,” Vylad then sighed, “I’m sorry, though.”

“Hm?” Laurance pulled away, brows furrowed.

“I brought flowers but…”

Laurance nodded in understanding, “You let Isabel and Travis bully them away from you.”

Vylad wrinkled his nose, his frown turning into a slight pout as he muttered, “I wasn’t bullied… they’re simply convincing.”

Laurance laughed, almost leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead but a sudden ringing sounded and he straighten. “That’s dinner timer— can you tell Isa and Travis to wash up, and head for the table after?”

Vylad nodded, faltering slightly as he watched Laurance disappeared back into the kitchen with hurried steps. I wonder which way those two we—

His eyes locked onto another gaze, one that was watching from the stairs. No, not just watching. Glaring. Zenix, who pressed his lips into a thin line, sat on the stairway with arms crossed. Like his siblings and father, he was dressed nicely in a clean button up and black pants; he didn’t say anything and continued to glare for another moment.

“Um, hello Zenix,” Vylad started awkwardly, offering a small smile, “I… um… You should probably head to the dinner table. I’ll handle Isabel and Travis.”

Nothing.

Zenix simply avert his eyes to his feet, brows furrowed and simply ignoring him. Vylad sighed.

He didn’t know what to say—what could he say? He could only leave Zenix to his thoughts, making a mental note of the behavior. While Zenix never expressed overt liking of Vylad’s presence, the upset sight of him was… worrying and maybe his theory of the eldest already being aware was true.

But he can’t dwell on it for now.

Tracking down the little rascals was easy, as the two didn’t go far—they took apart the bouquet in no time, so that was a lost cause. He found Travis and Isabel giggling as they slowly bending the stalks of the flowers into a flower crowns (or rather, attempting to). Vylad smiled and patted their heads as they proudly showed off their half-made crowns, but the two hungry enough to abandon their project when he said Laurance wanted them to wash up before dinner.

Zenix wasn’t on the stairs when the three walked by again. Instead, Zenix was waiting at the table, a seat closest to Malachi’s highchair as the elder fussed over the baby’s bib… and acting a little more subdued than usual. Vylad’s eyes narrowed for a moment. Strange.

He didn’t meet with his eyes, hopping off to the kitchen without even a word. Vylad tried to search in recent memory—either from his own actions or events that Laurance told him, what would be upsetting Zenix.

But as he tried to get Travis and Isabel settled, he came up with nothing.

Dinner with Laurance was always an eventful fare—but with his children, it went from a sweet gesture they rarely could took delight in to a display of what a warm family was.

From Travis’s need to tell Vylad everything about what he missed since the last his visit and what his best friend from next door, Katelyn, showed him recent, to Isabel proudly showing off the fact she could count farther than her brother despite being the younger of the two, to Malachi’s babbles and absolutely destruction of his food as he mushed it against his face (which got the entire table laughing).

Even Vylad told some stories, interrupted every few minutes about questions of the places he visited and sometimes going off in tangents such as: “Wait, they have elephants in Asia too?” “But he said they’re itty-bitty small kind.” “So, like baby elephants.” “No, no—they’re not babies!” “I feel like I know what itty-bitty means; they’re baby ‘phants!”.

Yet Laurance nor Vylad missed the fact there was one voice who didn’t join in the conversation as much as the rest. Zenix sat at his seat, pushing around the food quietly—and though Laurance kept the smiles up, it would slip away every now and again, a worried gaze landing on the quiet eldest.

Eventually, dinner wrapped up and the table was cleared with the help of Vylad—it was a few moments they had, while Laurance told the kids to wait at the table rather than running off immediately for their hour of freedom before bed.

“Are you ready?” Laurance whispered to him, taking his hand gingerly and Vylad intertwine their fingers, giving the hold a squeeze.

“Yes, but,” Vylad frowned, “Do you think they’ll understand?”

“Well, we waited a year… and I know neither of us think this is a fling, Vylad,” Laurance softly smiled, placing a kiss on his knuckles, “Relax. They’re smart cookies—they’ll understand.”

They returned, hand in hand, neither Travis or Isabel noticed at first… but Zenix did, and frowned immediately.

“Da-ad, can we go?” Travis, slouching and slowly slipping out of his seat, started to whine.

Isabel shushed him, with a quick berate, “Don’t sit like that, you goof!”

“I’m not a goof! You are!” Travis immediately retorted, an offended look written on the child’s face.

“Nu-uh! You’re the one who’s sitting like that—Dad said we have to wait!” Isabel chided him.

“Goody two-shoes!”

“Goofy bad boy—“

“Isabel, Travis—please. What did I say about calling each other bad names?” Laurance looked at the two, who immediately lowered their eyes in guilt, “This is a special night— one that’s almost finished. So please, say sorry to each other.”

Both glanced at each other, shoulders slumped, as they give a unison “Sorry.”

“Hmm, we’ll work on apologies later—both of you owe a hug to each other for the bad names,” Laurance mused while the two kids nodded, pouting a little now but their mood not completely soured, thankfully; instead they turned their eyes to their father and himself, curious.

Laurance shifted back into a bright smile, “I have special news,” he wrapped an arm around his shoulders, carefully looking from child to child—both Isabel and Travis met with their father’s eyes while Zenix distracted himself while holding Malachi. Laurance paused at this, only for a moment, before he pushed on—“You know, Uncle Vylad is a really good friend, very nice and sweet one at that.”

Travis nodded, while Isabel tilted her head. Vylad carefully watched Zenix, who tensed a little as he frowned, keeping his eyes on Malachi.

“And… well, for a while, Uncle Vylad been more than that. I love him a lot—“ “—And I love your father—“ “…yes. We love each other very much, and we been more than friends. A special friend, even.”

Isabel immediately raised her hand, calling out excitedly, ���So you’re dating?”

Laurance’s brows raised immediately, his voice not hiding his surprise, “Isabel, where did you learn that word?”

“From Granny Zianna’s TV shows!”

Travis then raised his hand, interrupting Laurance before he could think twice about that statement. “Does this mean Uncle Vylad is our papa too?”

“It’s complicated… but…” Laurance glanced at Vylad, who returned his searching look with a soft smile. “I’m fine with it. But I’m okay if you still want to say uncle as well.”

“Do you kiss?” Isabel called out, squinting at the two.

Laurance sputtered, “Isabel, no. I’m going to have a talk with Granny about what you’re watching, missy.”

Vylad chuckled, winking at Isabel as he nodded. “Your dad is shy, forgive him.”

Travis then waved his arm excitedly, “Will you get married?”

There’s a pause. Laurance glanced at him while Vylad’s brows immediately shot up; well… the question wasn’t a new one, when they passed the one year mark, his own mother asked curiously if they were. But before either could open their mouths to answer, Zenix spoke up finally.

“They can’t!”

The table fell silent as all eyes were on Zenix, who bristled under the attention. “Dad can’t! He has us—he doesn’t need to get married again, or need you!” His arms shifting Malachi, pointing an accusing finger at Vylad, and though the kid’s words stung, nothing was worse than the glassiness of Zenix’s gaze, his voice shaking a little, “Dad is just fine, we’re fine! We don’t need a second dad, w-we already… have…” Zenix’s voice started to die, and Isabel’s hand reached out in concern but he jerked away. Sliding out of his seat and placing Malachi on the floor (who let out a whine), they watched Zenix dart despite his siblings and father called out for him.

“Vylad, I—“

“Go. I’ll watch the kids, don’t worry.”

Laurance shot him a thankful look, before removing himself and chasing after his eldest. Travis and Isabel looked worriedly in their direction while Vylad picked up Malachi, rocking the gurgling child with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

Despite the fact… he didn’t have anything to feel exactly guilty for, part of him thought: I should’ve guessed what Zenix was moody about.

He was a smart kid after all—smarter than most would give the child credit. Ushering the kids upstairs, they changed into something more pajamalike and settling in Malachi’s room, as they wait…

Vylad sighed, watching the clock pass the twenty-minute mark. The children—apart from Malachi, of course—were as antsy as him, because Laurance or Zenix haven’t made an appearance.

Zenix’s outbursts weren’t a common thing seen by Travis or Isabel; at least to a serious degree, where he was driven to tears. But then again, Vylad was perfectly aware the tough and protective big brother role the eldest inhabit.

He put Malachi down into his crib, as the child started to drift while an hour almost pass; and when he turned, there stood Travis behind him, slightly hiding behind a big picture book in his hands as he nervously looked up.

“Um…” Travis turned to him, holding a book in his hands, “Dad usually reads but... could you?”

He smiled a little, taking the book from his hands. “Of course,” Glancing at the cover, he recognized the familiar tale, “The Ugly Duckling?”

“Yeah. It’s my favorite,” Travis answered, settling on the floor and Vylad sitting down beside him, “I like the ending.”

“He likes happy endings,” Isabel corrected, abandoning the toys she was playing with and settling on one side and Travis shot her scowl.

But before he can retort, Vylad interrupted the brewing fight with a “Well I like happy endings. There’s nothing wrong with liking them.” Travis gave a look of triumph and Isabel shrugged, looking rather unbothered.

“So I’ll read this and you two promise to go to bed after? It’s almost your bed time.” Both children nodded, snuggling closer to get a good view of the pictures. Vylad began the tale, letting himself get lost in the fairy tale as well.

It was only when Vylad came down, after putting Isabel and Travis in their respective beds, did he find Laurance and Zenix.

Or rather Laurance and fast-asleep Zenix, held by his father.

Both look drained, but when Laurance caught his eye, he gave a victory look as he rubbed Zenix’s back. “He doesn’t hate you.”

Vylad nodded, sitting down beside him on the couch. “I know that.”

“He’s just confused… he’s not as open to the idea because he remembers Ga.. your brother as his other dad,” Laurance said softly, “And he’s afraid.”

Vylad scooted closer and leaned against Laurance as he shut his eyes. “Afraid?”

“He doesn’t want me to get hurt, if you want a summary,” Laurance mused, looking down at Zenix with a gentle expression, “He acts carefree, but deep down he’s soft-hearted kid.”

“Like father, like son, I suppose?”

Laurance chuckled, nudging Vylad slightly before leaning his cheek against Vylad’s head. “I’m not that soft.” Vylad’s brow twitched for a moment and Laurance laughed again, insisting now, “You see me get emotional one time—“

“One?”

“A couple of times, and now I’m stuck with these labels,” he sighed mockingly, “Even though I let you get away with it every single time.”

“It’s because you’re soft,” Vylad pointed out, and Laurance’s nose wrinkled as he frowned.

Silence fell, though comforting and only sounds was the occasional mumbles from Zenix’s sleep.

But it didn’t last long, Laurance’s tone changing to worry as he absentmindedly rubbed soothing circles. “He needs some time, Vylad. He gone through a rough two years and… it being hard for me, I can’t imagine what he’s feeling,” Laurance softly said. “Garroth hasn’t been keeping up lately with his end of the deal, now this? It’s overwhelming.”

“…Should we… you know?” Vylad felt his heart tighten for a moment, his eyes opening and he started to pull away but Laurance’s hand stopped him.

“No! No, no—I’m not going to break up with you,” letting go of his arm and instead touching his cheek, Laurance’s eyes had determination in them, “Zenix is afraid but we just need to reassure that this change isn’t bad.”

“What if he doesn’t… well, like me?”

“He likes you, he’s just… shy about it,” both glance at the sleeping boy, and Laurance pressed a kiss to his forehead, “He always been a grumpy child, but I know him and he talks about you when you’re not here.”

Vylad pursed his lips, the corners curling up, “I hope good things.”

“It’s good things,” Laurance nudged him again, “He likes your pancakes. And your cool hair.”

“Don’t you like those things too?”

Laurance laughed, “Well, maybe you’re just a cool hair and pancakes kind of guy? It’s a very charming point, I must say.”

Vylad then laughed. “Of course you would.” And Laurance joined him.

Maybe they don’t have everything figured out now—but a step forward was a step forward. And surprisingly… he wasn’t discouraged.

“You know, I do have a question.”

Vylad hummed, prompting for Laurance to continue.

“Are you really alright with the kids calling you Dad too? I know you said it’s okay but… if it isn’t comfortable…”

Vylad lowered his eyes, feeling his cheeks grow warm—well he almost forgotten he gave his okay to that. “It’s… nice. I don’t mind,” he admitted, “They’re good kids, and if we’re taking this further… it’s a logical next step.”

“Vylad, technically they don’t have to call you dad unless we’re married.  You’re skipping a few steps,” Laurance gave a teasing grin, “Unless you were planning on purposing right this moment.”

There’s a pause. Laurance’s smile faded for a moment, him fully turning to face him properly but then huffed when he noticed the sparkle in Vylad’s eyes.

“Vylad.”

He chuckled as Laurance pinched the bridge of his nose, heaving a sigh. “I’m sorry. But… it’s reassuring to see you a little excited.” Laurance shot him a side-long glare, shifting Zenix in his arms. “That was a mean-spirited joke,” Laurance whined, standing up, “I know I said it was too soon for marriage… I wouldn’t have... um…”

“You wouldn’t have turned me down?”

Laurance avoided his amused stare, and stammered out, “I-I’m going to put Zenix in his bed. You earned yourself dish duty for that joke.”

“Alright,” Vylad stood, rubbing his neck, and Laurance shook his head, turned to head up the stairs; he smiled, “I wonder if it’s a joke if a part of it was true.”

The stairs creaking stopped for a moment. Though Vylad couldn’t see his expression, he knew Laurance heard him. And he knew Laurance wouldn’t want him to see the fact he gotten him, as he hurried up the rest of the steps.

Truthfully, if Zenix didn’t have the outburst, a part of Vylad knew he would’ve answered Travis’s question Will you get married with a “I hope so.”

Because he did.

Just as he worried over the kids liking him, not as an uncle, but as a potential person to… well… join their family, Vylad saw marriage was already on the table. And as he headed to the kitchen, with Laurance’s reaction… it’s reassuring to know it was on his as well.