Im ✨Ionely✨

rebloging x male / gn reader Writers Cuz they deserve the world he/him (22)

[banco000]

Gamemaster Tempest

Fire Lord Zuko x Male Reader

Chapter 21: Bitter Realities

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A full month had passed since the Southern Water Tribe Summit.

Unfortunately, the passage of time had done very little to reduce [Y/n]'s workload.

The Burning Eye investigation continued in the background, hidden beneath layers of classification and carefully controlled information. Reports from intelligence officers crossed his desk almost daily. Security recommendations followed close behind. Somewhere, investigators were still searching for the Fire Nation contact who had supplied the organisation with information from his uncle's archives.

And somehow none of those problems were the source of his current frustration.

No.

That honour belonged entirely to the Royal Banquet. The event remained two months away. Two entire months. Yet it had somehow consumed an increasingly unreasonable amount of the government's attention.

Every week brought new revisions to the guest list. New accommodation requests. New diplomatic considerations. New security concerns. Apparently, gathering several hundred influential people into a single building required endless preparation.

Who could have guessed?

The sharp crack of practice weapons colliding pulled [Y/n] from his thoughts. The training grounds stretched out before him, filled with soldiers moving through drills under the watchful eyes of their officers. Firebenders practised coordinated manoeuvres on one side of the field while recruits ran endurance exercises on the other. Orders echoed across the yard.

It was familiar. Predictable. Comfortingly straightforward. Compared to palace politics, military administration felt refreshingly honest. A problem appeared. You identified it. You dealt with it. Nobody spent an hour debating where someone should sit during dinner.

Beside him, General Mak studied a series of deployment proposals spread across a nearby table while Admiral Jee let his eyes dart over another report. The veteran officers' expressions remained as calm and thoughtful as ever. Nothing about either of them seemed rushed. Nothing seemed forced. Even when dealing with difficult problems, Mak approached them with the same steady patience he applied to everything else while Jee always managed to take a step back and look at things without getting hung up on the smaller issues. After several moments, they set their reports aside.

"The security estimates have increased." Mak commented, putting a hand on his chin thoughtfully. [Y/n] sighed immediately. Of course they had. Mak glanced toward him, not judgmentally, not with amusement, simply as an observation.

Admiral Jee seemed to notice the increasingly defeated look on [Y/n]'s face as the strategist flipped through yet another collection of banquet-related reports. The older officer was quiet for a moment before speaking. 

"For what it's worth, there are benefits to the event." He declared, and [Y/n] looked up slowly. The expression alone suggested he had serious doubts about that claim. Jee remained characteristically calm. "The governors will be present. Representatives from allied nations will be present. Military officials who rarely have an opportunity to meet directly will all be in the same place." He glanced toward the training grounds where soldiers continued moving through drills. "The Fire Nation spent a century isolated by war. Gatherings like this help strengthen relationships that didn't exist a few years ago." The logic was sound. Annoyingly sound. [Y/n] disliked it anyway.

"You make it sound reasonable." 

"Because it is reasonable." 

"I don't like that answer."  

"I suspected you might not." Mak inclined his head slightly. His attention returned to the deployment plans spread across the table. "Many of the changes the Fire Lord has implemented only work because people continue speaking to one another." His voice remained thoughtful. "Trade agreements, reconstruction projects, military cooperation, diplomatic relationships." He paused briefly. "Events like this help maintain those connections." [Y/n] stared at the papers in front of him. Part of him knew Mak was right. The banquet wasn't just nobles showing off expensive clothing and attempting to gain influence by throwing their daughters at Zuko. Important discussions would happen there. Relationships would be formed. Agreements would be negotiated. Problems might even be solved. None of that changed the fact that he still hated the entire thing. The strategist sighed heavily enough that Mak glanced toward him again. "You remain unconvinced." 

"General..." [Y/n] replied tiredly. "I understand the political value. That doesn't mean I have to enjoy helping organise it." To his credit, Mak actually nodded. 

"A fair distinction."

The conversation gradually shifted toward the less pleasant side of the banquet. Jee lowered his voice slightly as he reviewed another deployment proposal. 

"The gathering itself remains valuable, but it does create... opportunities." He noted, and [Y/n] immediately understood what he meant. The strategist glanced toward the soldiers training nearby before returning his attention to the reports. None contained any information on the group they were discussing since they couldn't review that out in the open, but the words 'The Burning Eye' may as well have been plastered in invisible ink only [Y/n] could see on every single page.

"Especially for people who prefer large audiences." The strategist replied, and both the general and the admiral nodded once. Neither of them used names. They didn't need to. Too many ears surrounded them. The training grounds might appear noisy, but soldiers had a remarkable talent for overhearing things they weren't supposed to. 

"The more important the guests..." Mak observed. "The more attractive the occasion becomes."

"That's the problem." [Y/n] sighed. The event wasn't merely a banquet anymore. It was a room full of governors, diplomats, military officials, and influential nobles. The sort of gathering that naturally attracted attention from people who wanted to send a message. Mak folded one of the reports and set it aside. 

"Fortunately, opportunities work both ways." That earned a raised eyebrow. The general's expression remained thoughtful. "Anyone interested in causing trouble will expect us to focus on obvious vulnerabilities." 

"Meaning we shouldn't limit ourselves to obvious vulnerabilities." Jee continued. [Y/n] considered that for a moment while Mak nodded, pleased that [Y/n] got his inference. 

"Precisely." He replied, and the strategist nodded slowly. It was one of the reasons he appreciated working with Mak and Jee. The older men rarely spoke dramatically, but when they did comment on a problem, their observations were usually worth listening to. 

"We'll increase the number of eyes watching the room." 

"Reasonable." 

"Review every servant assigned to the event." 

"Reasonable." 

"And quietly prepare for possibilities we hope never happen." 

"The best preparations usually go unnoticed." Mak inclined his head slightly. That was true of military planning. It was true of security. And, if everything went according to plan, nobody attending the banquet would ever realise just how much work had gone into ensuring they enjoyed a peaceful evening. Unfortunately, [Y/n] suspected the people they were worried about would make every effort to prevent that.

For the first time that day, [Y/n] found himself smiling. Just a little. Not because the problems had gotten smaller. Not because the banquet was becoming any less irritating. But because conversations like this reminded him why he trusted Mak and Jee. Neither man was prone to panic. They didn't dramatise. Didn't waste energy complaining.

They simply looked at the situation as it existed and worked through it one step at a time. Which was probably the only reason either of them had survived the last month.

The conversation was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. All three men looked up as Kenta crossed the training grounds toward them. The young soldier looked like he'd just stepped away from a sparring session, a thin sheen of sweat visible across his forehead as he wiped it away with one sleeve. Behind him, training continued uninterrupted. Firebenders practised forms, officers shouted corrections, and recruits hurried between drills.

Somewhere nearby, a familiar voice called out.

"Kenta." Unlike the shouting that usually accompanied complaints on a training ground, Hori sounded mostly tired. The other soldier was standing beside one of the sparring circles with a practice sword resting across his shoulder. "You can't just walk away in the middle of a match."

"It was a break." Kenta glanced back.

"It was a thirty-second pause."

"It was still a break."

Hori pinched the bridge of his nose. The expression suggested this was far from the first version of this conversation.

"I turned around."

"Mm."

"You were gone."

"Mm."

"And now I'm standing here explaining to recruits why my sparring partner vanished."

"I'm sure you managed." Kenta looked entirely unbothered. Hori sighed. A long, deeply exasperated sigh. Unfortunately, that was probably confirmation enough. By the time Kenta reached the table, he looked thoroughly accustomed to this sort of thing.

"General. Admiral." He greeted, and both Mak and Jee inclined their heads politely in return.

"Good afternoon."

"Soldier."

"Chief Strategist." Kenta then turned toward [Y/n].

"You're looking well." [Y/n] replied, and Kenta smiled. The young soldier's gaze drifted toward the reports spread across the table. Security estimates. Deployment schedules. Personnel allocations. Then back toward the two men.

"What are you doing out here?"

"We're reviewing security arrangements." Mak answered calmly. The general looked back toward the training grounds. "It is easier to evaluate what resources are available when you can observe them directly." Kenta nodded. That made sense. Mak continued. "The reports provide useful information." A squad of soldiers completed a coordinated manoeuvre nearby. The general watched them for a moment. "The soldiers provide additional context."

The explanation was delivered in the same measured tone Mak seemed to use for everything; thoughtful, reasonable, practical.

"Fair enough." Kenta considered it for a moment before nodding again. Jee folded one of the reports neatly. Then glanced toward [Y/n]. A faint smile touched his expression. Subtle enough that most people probably wouldn't notice it.

"And our Chief Strategist appeared in need of a change of scenery."

"I did not." [Y/n] looked up immediately. Both older men remained completely calm.

"The banquet documents suggest otherwise." Jee continued, glancing toward the reports that [Y/n] was gripping with enough force to tear through the paper if he shifted even slightly. Kenta looked between them. Then toward the stack of paperwork. Then back toward [Y/n].

"...That bad?"

"Yes." [Y/n] replied flatly. Jee couldn't help but chuckle. Mak nodded once. Kenta laughed. [Y/n] looked mildly betrayed. 

"Kenta." From across the training grounds, Hori's voice drifted over again. The soldier in question immediately sighed. "Kenta, are you coming back?" There was a pause before another exasperated sigh. "Or should I start training with the dummy?" Kenta glanced over his shoulder. Hori was standing beside a wooden training dummy now, looking at it with visible disappointment. The dummy, unsurprisingly, offered no response.

"I'll be there in a minute."

"You said that five minutes ago."

"It hasn't been five minutes."

"It feels like five minutes."

Kenta closed his eyes briefly. [Y/n] watched the exchange for a moment. It was terrifyingly similar to how he and Zuko complained at each other when they trained. He gestured vaguely toward Hori.

"How long have you two known each other?"

"Years."

"That explains a lot."

"It really does." The response came from Hori this time. His tone carried the weary acceptance of a man who had simply stopped fighting fate. For the first time all afternoon, General Mak chuckled quietly. A brief sound. Gone almost immediately. But genuine nonetheless.

Eventually, Hori gave up on waiting for Kenta to return and wandered over himself. The soldier approached the table with the resigned expression of someone who had already accepted that his training session was never getting back on schedule. His eyes drifted over the reports scattered across the tabletop. Then toward [Y/n]. Then back toward the reports. For a moment, he looked almost concerned.

"Chief Strategist." He started. [Y/n] looked up. Hori paused. "You look exhausted." The observation was delivered politely. Respectfully. And with just enough honesty to make it impossible to ignore. [Y/n] stared at him for a moment. Then sighed. The sort of sigh that seemed to come from somewhere deep within his soul.

"I am exhausted." He admitted, letting his shoulders sag a little. Hori nodded. That tracked. The strategist gestured vaguely toward the paperwork. "I'm currently being forced to help plan a banquet that I want absolutely nothing to do with."

Kenta immediately looked sympathetic. General Mak remained thoughtfully silent. And Admiral Jee seemed like he was debating offering advice or staying out of it. A dangerous sign. Because it meant he probably agreed. Hori frowned slightly. The strategist stared at him for several long seconds. The look alone communicated years of accumulated suffering.

Before either soldier could ask a follow-up question, a familiar voice suddenly echoed across the training grounds.

"Chief Strategist!" The effect on [Y/n] was immediate. He froze. Slowly, very slowly, he turned his head toward the entrance to the barracks. The Grand Chamberlain stood there, scanning the training grounds with the determination of a man hunting a dangerous criminal. Unfortunately, the moment his eyes landed on the strategist, his face brightened. Something inside [Y/n] immediately died. Not dramatically. Not loudly. Just a quiet, defeated death somewhere deep in his soul. His shoulders slumped. The life visibly drained from his face. Beside him, Kenta followed his gaze and immediately understood. 

"Oh no." Hori looked toward the approaching Chamberlain, then toward [Y/n]'s expression, and winced sympathetically. 

"That's unfortunate." Kenta added. The Grand Chamberlain immediately began marching toward the table. The moment he did, Kenta straightened. "Well." He pointed vaguely back toward the training circles. "I should probably get back to work." 

"Good idea." Hori agreed immediately. "Can't neglect training." Neither man waited for a response. They simply turned and walked away with suspicious speed. Within seconds, they had disappeared back into the crowd of soldiers as though they had never been there at all. Cowards. Absolute cowards. 

Mak and Jee watched them retreat without comment while [Y/n] continued staring at the approaching Chamberlain with the expression of a man watching his own execution approach. The older official crossed the training grounds with a stack of documents tucked beneath one arm, and judging by the amount of paper involved, [Y/n] already knew exactly what those documents were. Banquet reports. Somehow, despite standing in the middle of a military barracks surrounded by hundreds of soldiers, there was nowhere to run.

The Grand Chamberlain finally reached the table, looking far too pleased with himself for [Y/n]'s liking. 

"Grand Chamberlain." Mak and Jee offered polite nods in tandem.

"General. Admiral." The older official returned the greeting. Beside him, [Y/n] managed something that vaguely resembled a respectful greeting, though it lacked any actual enthusiasm. The Chamberlain either didn't notice or chose to ignore it. "I am glad the soldier was correct." That immediately got the strategist's attention. 

"Soldier?" He repeated, and the older man nodded. 

"One of the guards informed me that he saw you heading toward the barracks earlier this afternoon." He explained. [Y/n] stared at him. Somewhere in the distance, a recruit suddenly sneezed. The strategist immediately decided that every soldier in the palace was now a suspect. He would find out who it was. Eventually. The investigation would be thorough. Possibly vindictive. Almost certainly petty.

"What do you need?" [Y/n] asked before his imagination could become any more concerning. The Chamberlain adjusted the documents tucked beneath one arm. 

"Come with me."  

"That's not an answer." The strategist immediately frowned.

"It will be." The older man turned toward the exit. "On the way back." [Y/n] looked toward Mak and Jee as though searching for rescue. Unsurprisingly, none was forthcoming. The general simply folded the security reports together neatly and inclined his head. 

"We can continue our review later." Mak offered while Jee nodded, a small smile threatening to pull itself to his face. The strategist sighed heavily enough that several nearby soldiers glanced over. 

"Wonderful." He gathered his own documents from the table and tucked them beneath one arm before pushing himself to his feet. Then he looked toward Mak one final time. "If I don't return, tell Zuko I died doing what I hated." Mak was silent for a moment. 

"Banquet planning?" 

"Banquet planning." 

"A tragic end." Jee nodded thoughtfully. For the first time all afternoon, the Chamberlain actually looked slightly offended. [Y/n] felt vindicated. Then, with all the enthusiasm of a man marching toward his own execution, he turned and followed the Grand Chamberlain out of the training grounds.

Behind him, the sounds of training continued uninterrupted. Soldiers sparred. Officers shouted orders. Recruits practised drills. All of them blissfully free from banquet planning.

The lucky bastards.

The moment they left the training grounds behind, [Y/n] decided to get the inevitable over with as quickly as possible. The Grand Chamberlain walked beside him at his usual measured pace while the strategist carried his reports under one arm. 

"Is there a report that needs approval?" He asked. It seemed like the most likely explanation. Most of the Chamberlain's interruptions over the last month had ultimately led back to paperwork. Unfortunately, the older man shook his head. 

"No." That immediately earned a frown. 

"No?" The strategist looked at him suspiciously. If it wasn't a report, then what exactly had justified hunting him through the palace? "Then what is it?" For the first time since finding him at the barracks, the Grand Chamberlain looked oddly uncomfortable. The change was subtle, but noticeable. The older man cleared his throat and adjusted the stack of documents beneath his arm. [Y/n] slowed slightly. Now he was concerned. The Chamberlain was many things. Persistent. Organized. Occasionally infuriating. Awkward was not usually one of them. 

"Chief Strategist..." The older man began carefully. "You and Fire Lord Zuko are... very close." [Y/n] blinked. Of all the directions this conversation could have taken, that wasn't even in the top hundred. For a moment, he simply stared. He'd been expecting banquet reports. Security concerns. Guest lists. Another argument about heirs. Not this. Eventually, he managed to force out a response. 

"Yes?" The word came out more confused than intended. The Chamberlain waited. Apparently expecting more. When none came, [Y/n] gestured vaguely. "We are." He paused. "You already knew that." The strategist was still trying to figure out where this conversation was going. Everyone in the palace knew he and Zuko were close. They had known each other since childhood. The information wasn't exactly classified. The older man had personally witnessed half of their arguments and jokes alike over the months since he'd been back. "You are aware of our history." [Y/n] continued slowly. "You know we grew up together." The Chamberlain nodded. 

"I do." That somehow made the conversation even stranger. Because if the older man already knew all of that, then bringing it up now could only mean one thing. Unfortunately, [Y/n] had absolutely no idea what that thing was. And judging by the increasingly awkward look on the Chamberlain's face, he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to find out.

"Then why are we discussing it?" The question seemed reasonable enough. Unfortunately, the Chamberlain's expression immediately became more awkward. He cleared his throat and looked away briefly. That alone was enough to set off alarm bells. The strategist had spent years dealing with politicians, ministers, and military officers. He knew what people looked like when they were about to ask for something. 

"Because..." The older man hesitated. "Perhaps the Fire Lord will listen to you on this matter." There it was. Immediately, every instinct [Y/n] possessed began screaming at him. He didn't know exactly where this conversation was going yet, but he had a horrible feeling he was about to find out. 

"What matter?" He asked anyway. The Chamberlain's hesitation somehow became worse. That was never a good sign. The older man adjusted the documents beneath his arm. 

"In preparation for the banquet, several noble families have submitted information regarding their daughters." He explained. [Y/n] immediately knew where this was going. Of course he did. The Chamberlain continued anyway. "Some governors have submitted information regarding nieces. And in one case, a cousin." The strategist closed his eyes briefly. Agni help him. The banquet again. It always came back to the banquet. 

"Continue..." He said flatly. The Chamberlain took that as encouragement. Unfortunately. 

"The intention was to allow the Fire Lord to familiarise himself with the attendees before the event." That sounded suspiciously polite considering what they were actually discussing. [Y/n] already knew exactly what those files were. They weren't information packets. They were recommendations. Carefully prepared introductions from ambitious families hoping to secure influence through marriage. His suspicions were fully confirmed when the Chamberlain sighed. "The problem is that he refuses to engage with them." [Y/n] couldn't even pretend to be surprised. 

"Meaning?" 

"Meaning he won't read them." The older man's expression grew increasingly frustrated. "Several remain unopened. Some were returned. One was apparently used to level a table." The strategist stared at him. Then stared a little longer. Somewhere deep inside, despite everything, a laugh threatened to escape. 

"Can't say I'm surprised." He replied.  

"Chief Strategist, the Fire Lord has been given every opportunity to familiarise himself with these young women, and he refuses to even consider it." The Chamberlain looked genuinely pained. [Y/n] immediately understood exactly why Zuko had done it. Which was unfortunate, because judging by the hopeful look the Chamberlain was now directing at him, the older man clearly believed he'd just found the solution to his problem. And that realisation filled the strategist with absolute dread.

"So, you want me to convince Zuko to pick a wife?" He asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Precisely. And, as a gesture of goodwill for your trouble, you can have your pick of any of the women he doesn't pick that catch your eye. I'm sure they'd still be interested in someone of your rank if His Majesty wasn't available." The Chamberlain replied, and [Y/n] legitimately felt ready to vomit at the thought. He didn't know if it was the offer itself or the fact that the old man had basically referred to the women as a matter of compensation, but the whole thing still made his skin crawl, no matter how normalised this kind of thing was amongst the nobility.

"I'd rather set myself on fire." Came [Y/n]'s response after approximately thirty seconds of disgusted silence. The Chamberlain sighed. The sound carried the exhaustion of a man who had been fighting the same battle for months and was steadily losing ground. 

"Chief Strategist, the Fire Lord is twenty years old." [Y/n] immediately resisted the urge to groan. 

"I am aware." 

"He has no wife." 

"Also aware." 

"And no heir." There it was. The strategist kept his expression perfectly neutral as they continued walking through the palace corridors. 

Unfortunately, something unpleasant twisted in his stomach anyway. He ignored it. The feeling had become increasingly familiar over the last month. Every time someone brought up Zuko's future wife. Every time someone discussed potential matches. Every time someone spoke as though marriage was just another item on a list of political responsibilities. The Chamberlain kept talking, painting a picture of stability, succession, and noble alliances. 

Meanwhile, [Y/n]'s imagination betrayed him by briefly supplying the image of Zuko standing beside some carefully selected noblewoman at the banquet. The thought made the knot in his stomach tighten. He immediately shoved it away.

"No." The interruption was immediate. 

"No?" The Chamberlain blinked.

"No." The strategist folded his arms. "I'm not helping."

"You haven't even heard my proposal." The older man frowned.

"I heard enough."

"Chief Strategist, all I'm asking is that you encourage him to review the files." The Chamberlain looked increasingly frustrated.

"No."

"To consider the candidates."

"No."

"To think seriously about his future."

"No."

The answer never changed. Each response came just as flat and immediate as the last. The older man stared at him. Apparently hoping repetition would somehow improve the situation. It did not. The Chamberlain released another sigh. He clearly wasn't ready to give up. 

"Chief Strategist, I understand your concerns, but this is larger than personal preference." His tone remained patient, though there was a growing desperation beneath it now. "The Fire Nation requires stability. An heir provides stability. Marriage strengthens political relationships. The Fire Lord's future affects the future of the entire nation." The older man gestured vaguely as they continued down the corridor. "I'm not asking you to force him into anything. Merely encourage him to consider his options." [Y/n] immediately felt that knot twist in his stomach again. The image from before resurfaced uninvited. A political marriage. A political wife. A political future chosen because it was convenient and useful rather than because it was what he wanted. The strategist shoved the thought away before it could linger. 

"No." He replied flatly.

"For the good of the nation-" The Chamberlain sighed heavily. 

"'For the good of the nation.'" [Y/n] repeated mockingly. "I've heard that argument." His voice remained calm, but there was a firmness beneath it that hadn't been there before. "And my answer is still no." The older man opened his mouth to continue, but [Y/n] cut him off. "I know Zuko." The words came immediately. "Better than most people in this palace. And I know exactly how miserable this entire situation makes him." The strategist folded his arms. "He's spent years being told what he should be, where he should go, what he should do, who he should become." His expression hardened slightly. "I'm not adding 'find a wife and produce an heir' to that list just because it would make the council happy." The Chamberlain looked frustrated. [Y/n] didn't care. 

"If Zuko wants to marry someone someday, I'll be the first person to support him." The knot in his stomach tightened painfully at the thought, but he ignored it. "But I'm not going to pressure my best friend into something I know will make him miserable for the rest of his life. Not for the nation. Not for the council. Not for anyone." [Y/n] stopped walking again. The Chamberlain almost walked past him before noticing. The strategist looked tired. Not angry. Not frustrated. Just exhausted in a way that seemed to settle deep into his bones. 

"Maybe..." He started slowly. "You, the ministers, and half the nation would do well to appreciate the fact that Zuko is already working himself into the ground." The older man blinked. [Y/n] continued before he could interrupt. "He spends every waking hour trying to clean up the mess his father left behind. He's rebuilding international relationships. Managing reconstruction projects. Reforming laws. Negotiating with governors. Handling disputes. Putting out political fires that started before he was even old enough to vote on them." The strategist spread one hand. "Most people would call that enough responsibility for one person." The Chamberlain opened his mouth, but [Y/n] was already shaking his head. 

"Instead, every conversation somehow circles back to finding him a wife." His voice remained calm, though the irritation beneath it was becoming increasingly difficult to hide. "An heir. A marriage. A successor. Another noble family." The strategist let out a long breath. "Have any of you considered giving him a moment to breathe?" The older man looked uncomfortable. Good. "Agni..." [Y/n] muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. "The man is trying to drag an entire nation out of a century of war, and somehow people still look at him and think, 'yes, but when are you having a child with a woman you've never met?'" He folded his arms. "At some point, it starts sounding less like concern for the Fire Nation and more like you're all treating him like a breeding bull." The Chamberlain immediately looked horrified by the comparison. [Y/n] didn't care. "He's a person. Not a succession plan."

His words hung heavy between them for a moment, and he couldn't help but feel a little lighter now that he'd finally managed to blow off at least a little steam. Eventually, the Chamberlain let out a slow breath.

"You are remarkably stubborn."

"Well, the Fire Lord learned from the best." [Y/n] pointed to himself. That actually made the older man look offended. Which, admittedly, improved [Y/n]'s mood considerably.

A long silence followed. The Chamberlain looked increasingly frustrated while [Y/n] looked increasingly determined not to help. Eventually, the older man sighed and rubbed at his forehead. Clearly deciding that one approach had failed, he tried another. 

"What about Lady Mai?" The strategist blinked. Of all the directions the conversation could have gone, that wasn't the one he'd expected. The Chamberlain seemed encouraged by the reaction and continued. "The Fire Lord appeared content during that period of his life. Perhaps there is merit in revisiting the relationship." For a moment, [Y/n] simply stared at him. Then he laughed. Not a polite chuckle. Not a brief snort of amusement. An actual laugh. The kind that completely derailed a conversation. The Chamberlain stopped talking and looked mildly offended while [Y/n] shook his head.

"There is a better chance of the Fire Island volcanoes freezing over." The answer came immediately. The Chamberlain frowned. 

"Surely it is not that unlikely." 

"It absolutely is." [Y/n] rubbed a hand over his face. "Mai and Zuko already tried being together." 

"Relationships can be repaired." 

"They aren't broken." The strategist sighed. "That's the point." The older man looked confused, which somehow didn't surprise him. "They already fixed things years ago. Just not in the way you're thinking." The Chamberlain remained unconvinced, so [Y/n] pressed on. "They care about each other. They'll always care about each other. But they're happier as friends than they ever were as a couple." The Chamberlain was quiet for a moment. 

"You truly believe that?" 

"I know that." [Y/n] immediately nodded. He had watched them since they got back. Heard how they were as partners from both of them and watched them somehow become better friends afterwards than they had been before. "Neither of them is sitting around wishing they were back together." The strategist folded his arms. "Honestly, if I suggested it, Mai would probably throw something at me." The older man considered that before reluctantly nodding. Apparently, he found that possibility believable. Which was fair. [Y/n] certainly did. 

"And The Fire Lord?" The Chamberlain asked. The strategist snorted. 

"Zuko would think I'd completely lost my mind." The answer earned another disappointed sigh from the older man. At this point, [Y/n] was beginning to suspect that half of the Chamberlain's life consisted of sighing whenever the Fire Lord refused to cooperate with his plans. Unfortunately for him, neither Zuko nor Mai seemed interested in helping.

Mai seemed perfectly content with her life. Zuko seemed perfectly content with his. Trying to force them together now would be absurd. The Chamberlain looked personally wounded by this information.

The Chamberlain was quiet for several moments after that. His expression remained thoughtful as they continued down the corridor. Then, with all the casualness of someone commenting on the weather, he rubbed at his forehead and sighed. 

"This entire situation would be significantly easier if you were a woman." He remarked casually. [Y/n] completely froze in place. Because even if you had given him two hundred years to come up with what he'd expected the Chamberlain to say, that wouldn't have even been considered to make the list. Slowly, the Chamberlain turned around. The strategist was staring at him. Not angry. Not confused. Just completely frozen somewhere between bewilderment and absolute horror. For a long moment, neither spoke. Then [Y/n] pointed at him. 

"What?" The question came out flat. The Chamberlain blinked. Apparently, he hadn't expected that reaction. "What?" [Y/n] repeated. "What does that even mean?" The older man looked mildly surprised that further explanation was required. 

"You possess considerable political influence." He began counting points off on his fingers. "You are close to the Fire Lord." Another finger. "You come from a respected family, despite your request to discredit the House itself." Another finger. "You are one of the very few people he genuinely trusts and does not keep at arm's length." The Chamberlain folded his hands behind his back again. "From a political standpoint, those are all highly desirable qualities." [Y/n] continued staring. The expression on his face suggested he was desperately hoping there was another conclusion hidden somewhere in this conversation. Unfortunately, there wasn't.

"Had you been a woman, the matter would have solved itself when you returned to the palace." The Chamberlain simply continued speaking as though this were the most normal discussion in the world. [Y/n]'s jaw dropped. The older man either didn't notice or didn't care. "You are already close companions. The political implications would be favourable. The public would approve. The council would approve." He paused thoughtfully. "And any potential children would likely inherit a strong strategic mind, which would be beneficial for future leadership, not to mention your aptitude for lightning." 

Silence filled the corridor. Absolute silence. The Chamberlain looked perfectly calm. [Y/n] looked like he'd just been struck by lightning. For several long seconds, he couldn't even find words. The strategist simply stared at the older man, trying to determine whether he was joking, suffering from a stroke, or had completely lost his mind. Unfortunately, the Chamberlain appeared entirely serious. Which was somehow the most horrifying possibility of all.

[Y/n] genuinely forgot how to speak. His mind was a complete mess of thoughts and emotions tripping over each other. Horror. Embarrassment. Disbelief. Confusion. The overwhelming certainty that this conversation should not be happening. His face felt like it was on fire. Agni above, if anyone overheard this discussion, he would never recover. The worst part was that the Chamberlain remained completely calm throughout the entire thing. There wasn't a hint of embarrassment on the older man's face. No indication that he recognised how utterly insane this conversation was. Eventually, [Y/n] managed to force words past the catastrophe occurring inside his head. 

"There is seriously something wrong with you." The statement came out flatter than he'd intended. Mostly because his brain was still trying to recover from being told that the nation's succession problems could theoretically have been solved by changing his gender.

"What?" The Chamberlain simply raised an eyebrow. The strategist stared at him in disbelief. 

"What do you mean, 'what'?" The older man looked genuinely confused. Genuinely confused. As though he couldn't understand why anyone might object to being discussed like a particularly promising breeding program. "You just spent five minutes explaining why I would be politically useful as breeding stock." The Chamberlain frowned immediately. 

"That is a dramatic interpretation." 

"It is the correct interpretation." 

"I disagree." The older man replied, while the strategist just rubbed both hands over his face, muttering to himself. 

"You know, for a man who doesn't seem to like me very much, you've given this weird-ass idea a concerning amount of thought." That finally seemed to catch the older man off guard. Only for a moment. Then he straightened again. 

"Personal feelings have nothing to do with practical considerations." Somehow, that answer made everything worse. The Chamberlain folded his hands behind his back and continued as though he were discussing military logistics. "The evaluation was perfectly reasonable." [Y/n] felt part of his soul attempting to leave his body. The older man pressed onward, completely oblivious to the damage he was causing. "You possess considerable influence, the Fire Lord trusts you, and your strategic capabilities are well documented." He paused thoughtfully. "It is unfortunate that you cannot bear children." The strategist made a strangled noise somewhere between a groan and a choke. That statement somehow managed to be even worse than the original conversation. Maybe because the Chamberlain sounded genuinely disappointed by the fact. Or maybe because he wasn't joking. There wasn't the slightest hint of humour in his voice. He meant every word. 

"Agni, help me..." [Y/n] muttered, burying his face in his hands again. The Chamberlain merely tilted his head. 

"I still believe you're overreacting." That only made the strategist groan louder. The Chamberlain, unfortunately, was not finished. "Politically speaking, it would have resolved several issues simultaneously." [Y/n] immediately regretted allowing the conversation to continue. The older man seemed completely unaware of the danger signs. "A trusted spouse. A clear successor. Continued political stability." He counted each point off calmly. The strategist stared straight ahead and focused very hard on continuing to walk. 

Unfortunately, his imagination chose that exact moment to betray him. For one horrifying second, his mind supplied the image of himself standing beside Zuko in ceremonial robes while half the nation watched. Then it got worse. Considerably worse. He immediately shoved the thought into the deepest corner of his mind and slammed the door on it. Agni above. He wanted to die. The Chamberlain, unfortunately, continued speaking.  

"And the resulting child would likely possess advantages from both parents-" 

"Please stop talking." [Y/n] made a strangled sound. The older man either didn't hear him or chose not to. 

"A strong strategic education combined with the Fire Lord's leadership abilities would have been-" 

"Please stop talking." This time, the interruption came immediately. The strategist rubbed a hand over his face. His ears felt hot. His face felt hot. Everything felt hot. Which was deeply unfair considering he wasn't the one saying these things. The mental image the Chamberlain had accidentally created refused to go away, no matter how aggressively he tried to kill it. 

Unfortunately, there was another problem buried underneath the embarrassment. A strange, uncomfortable feeling that had been appearing far too often recently. The same feeling that showed up whenever people discussed Zuko's future wife. Or marriage. Or heirs. Or anything even remotely related. [Y/n] immediately ignored it. As usual. 

But it was getting noticeably harder to.

"Chief Strategist?" The Chamberlain finally seemed to notice something was wrong.  Too little, too late. 

"I'm fine." He was absolutely not fine. The older man frowned. 

"You do not appear fine." 

"You're trying to have a conversation about my best friend impregnating me. In what universe would I actually be fine?" The strategist looked toward the ceiling. "I assure you, this is not improving my day." The Chamberlain seemed to consider that. 

"A fair point." That somehow made it worse. Because now the older man was treating the entire discussion like a perfectly reasonable administrative matter instead of the complete nightmare it had become. 

Meanwhile, [Y/n] was trying very hard not to think about the image that had lodged itself in his brain. Or the increasingly familiar ache in his chest. Or the fact that both seemed strangely connected. Instead, he chose the far safer option of deciding there was something deeply wrong with the Grand Chamberlain and focusing all his energy on that conclusion. It was significantly easier than examining anything else.

~*~

Later that night, [Y/n] found himself right back where he seemed to spend half his life these days: alone in his office with a stack of reports, a cooling dinner, and entirely too many thoughts. 

The palace had grown quieter as evening settled over the capital. Most ministers had gone home. Servants moved more quietly through the halls. Even the usual bustle beyond his window had diminished as the city prepared for sleep. Unfortunately, his mind had received no such instructions. A report sat open in front of him. He had supposedly been reading it for the last ten minutes. Judging by the fact that he'd reached the same sentence four separate times, it wasn't going particularly well. Nearby, the remains of his dinner sat mostly untouched. He picked at it occasionally out of obligation rather than hunger before inevitably becoming distracted again.

The banquet wasn't helping. Every time he thought he had successfully pushed it from his mind, something dragged it back. The guest lists. The security concerns. The nobles. The council. The endless discussions about wives, heirs, and succession. The entire thing felt like an approaching storm he couldn't avoid no matter how hard he tried. 

Worse, every conversation seemed to make the knot in his chest tighten a little more. The Chamberlain's comments certainly hadn't helped. The strategist groaned and dropped his forehead against the desk. Agni above. He wished the older man would stop trying to solve the nation's problems through increasingly disturbing marriage proposals. The image of the Chamberlain calmly discussing hypothetical children and political advantages resurfaced. [Y/n] immediately wanted to throw himself through the nearest window. Unfortunately, that would only create paperwork, which would somehow make everything worse.

And then there was Zuko. Somehow, despite all the other problems demanding his attention, his thoughts kept circling back to him anyway. The strategist closed his eyes and immediately regretted it. Every road his thoughts travelled lately seemed to end in the same place. 

The banquet led to discussions about wives. Wives led to thoughts about Zuko. The Chamberlain's insanity led to thoughts about Zuko. Half his memories somehow led back to Zuko. 

And buried beneath all of it was a strange, uncomfortable feeling he still refused to examine directly. Because the moment he acknowledged it, he suspected he would understand exactly why the thought of some political marriage bothered him so much. And that was a realisation he wasn't remotely prepared to have. So instead, he reached for another report and pretended the words in front of him were somehow more complicated than the disaster currently unfolding inside his own head.

His eyes drifted away from the report again. Not toward the banquet this time. Not toward the Chamberlain's increasingly disturbing opinions on succession. Instead, his thoughts wandered back to the Southern Water Tribe.

Back to that room.

Back to that night.

The memory had become annoyingly easy to revisit.

[Y/n] could still remember exactly where they had been sitting. The room had been dark except for the faint light filtering through the windows from outside. The distant glow of the fading southern lights had painted soft colours across the floor and walls while the rest of the world seemed to disappear beyond the glass. Neither of them had been particularly composed. He certainly hadn't been. He'd been exhausted, terrified, angry, and carrying far more than he should have for far too long. 

Zuko hadn't looked much better. The Fire Lord had spent most of the evening worrying about him, trying to understand what was happening, trying to help despite barely having enough information to work with. They had been sitting close enough that [Y/n] could still clearly remember every expression that crossed Zuko's face throughout the conversation. The concern. The frustration. The stubborn determination whenever he thought [Y/n] was being an idiot.

The strategist closed his eyes. Immediately regretting it. Because now the memories felt even clearer.

The sound of Zuko's voice.

The way they refused to let each other keep blaming themselves for everything.

The conversation had started as an apology.

It had become something else entirely.

Somewhere along the way, years of things left unsaid had simply spilt out between them. Not because either of them had planned it. Not because either of them had been ready for it. Because they had run out of ways to avoid it. For perhaps the first time since they reunited, they'd both been completely honest. About the fear. About the worry. About how much seeing the other person hurt affected them. And above all else, about how much they cared. The memory of it still made something tighten painfully in his chest. Not because he regretted it. Quite the opposite. Because every word had been true.

That was the problem.

Every word had been true.

[Y/n] slowly lowered his gaze to the report in front of him, though he wasn't reading it anymore. He was remembering the look in Zuko's eyes when he'd admitted how much he wanted to protect him. Remembering his own frustration when Zuko blamed himself for [Y/n] being targeted. Remembering the realisation that neither of them had ever really questioned it. 

Somewhere along the way, protecting each other had simply become natural. Expected. Instinctive. Neither of them had thought twice about it until that conversation forced them to put it into words. And once those words existed, once they'd admitted just how important the other person was, it became impossible to pretend otherwise. The strategist stared at the untouched report while the memory lingered stubbornly in his mind. Because no matter how many times he tried to focus on the banquet, the Burning Eye, or the mountain of paperwork covering his desk, his thoughts always seemed to circle back to the same conclusion. 

Back to the same person. 

Back to Zuko. 

And that was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

[Y/n] dropped the report onto the desk. Then immediately buried his face in both hands. Trying to think. Trying not to think. A shaky breath escaped him. The office suddenly felt too quiet. Too small. Too confining. Agni above.

"I can't..." The words slipped out before he could stop them. Barely more than a whisper. The strategist squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. "No." Something like that wasn't for him. It couldn't be. Not this. Not now. Not ever. 

The thought alone was enough to make his chest tighten.

So he did what he always did when confronted with something he didn't want to examine.

He started making excuses.

It was stress. That was all. Exhausted. Overworked. Stressed. The banquet was approaching. The Burning Eye was still out there. The entire nation seemed determined to shove Zuko toward a marriage he clearly didn't want.  Of course, he was upset. Of course, he was irritated. Anyone would be frustrated by that. Anyone would be angry on his behalf. Anyone would hate listening to council members discuss heirs and succession while completely ignoring what Zuko actually wanted. 

That was all this was. Concern. Worry. Protectiveness. Frustration on Zuko's behalf. Nothing more. Nothing complicated. Nothing dangerous.

The explanation sounded increasingly hollow every time he repeated it. Unfortunately, that didn't stop him from trying. The strategist dragged his hands down his face and stared at the reports scattered across his desk, trying desperately to regain control of the conversation occurring inside his own head. Unfortunately, his memories had already escaped containment. And once they did that, there was very little he could do to stop them. 

They moved before he could hold them back. Not toward the banquet. Not toward the Chamberlain. Not even toward the Southern Water Tribe.

Instead, they wandered all the way back to the day he'd returned to the capital. To the Pai Sho board. The first game after nearly ten years apart. The memory arrived with painful clarity. The quiet room. The board between them. The familiar pieces. And Zuko, sitting across from him, smiling. 

The strategist felt his stomach twist. Because he remembered what had happened. He remembered realising that the Fire Lord hadn't simply remembered him. He'd remembered everything. The strategies. The conversations. The arguments. The lessons. The games.

Eight years... Eight years apart, and Zuko had still remembered the exact moves from the last unfinished match they'd played as children. Not approximately. Not generally. Exactly. As though that final game had never really ended.As though he'd been carrying it with him the entire time. 

The realisation had stunned him then. Now, it just hurt.

[Y/n] leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. The memory refused to leave. The image of Zuko carefully rebuilding a game interrupted nearly a decade earlier lingered stubbornly in his mind. As if those years hadn't mattered. Like the board had simply been waiting for them. And with it came the awful realisation that no matter how hard he tried to explain away what he was feeling, no matter how many excuses he invented, his thoughts always ended up in the same place. Always ended up with the same person. 

[Y/n] felt something ache deep in his chest. A sharp, painful feeling that seemed to spread with every passing second. And he hated it. Agni, he hated it. Because no matter how many excuses he came up with, no matter how many times he blamed stress or exhaustion or the banquet or the Chamberlain, the feeling refused to disappear. It only got worse. The strategist lowered his head until his forehead rested against the desk. The wood felt cool. Solid. Grounding. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough. 

Because somewhere beneath all the excuses and denials and increasingly desperate attempts to avoid the truth, he was beginning to understand exactly why the thought of Zuko marrying someone else hurt so much. 

And that realisation terrified him. 

So instead, he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus on literally anything else. The reports. The banquet. The Burning Eye. The weather. Anything. Anything except the fact that his heart hurt every time his thoughts drifted back to Zuko. And the fact that, despite everything, they always did.

As if the universe had personally decided he wasn't allowed to enjoy a moment of peace, there was a sudden knock at the door.

[Y/n] froze.

For one brief, hopeful moment, he considered pretending he wasn't there. Unfortunately, before he could commit to the idea, the door opened anyway. The strategist looked up and immediately felt his stomach drop. Of course. Of course, it was him. 

Agni apparently wasn't content with merely ruining his day through the Grand Chamberlain and several hours of emotional turmoil. Now the Fire Lord himself had arrived to personally finish the job. [Y/n] swallowed hard and forced himself not to look away. The timing could not possibly have been worse. Five minutes earlier, and he would have still been buried in his hands. Five minutes later, he might have managed to get himself under control. 

Instead, Zuko stepped into the room while [Y/n] silently cursed the gods, fate, and whatever cosmic force had decided this was funny. For one brief, horrifying moment, [Y/n] became acutely aware of every thought he'd been unsuccessfully trying to avoid for the last hour.

Then he forcibly shoved all of them into a mental box.

Locked the box.

Buried the box.

And mentally set the box on fire.

Problem solved.

"Hey." The greeting was casual. Familiar. Dangerously familiar. [Y/n] hated how much that alone affected him right now.

"Hey." His own response sounded normal enough. Hopefully.

Zuko closed the door behind him and took a few steps into the office. Then he stopped. The Fire Lord's eyes narrowed slightly. Not suspiciously; concernedly. The change happened so quickly it almost annoyed him. Almost. [Y/n] knew that look. It was the same look Zuko got whenever he thought something was wrong. Unfortunately, it appeared after only a few seconds of observation. 

"You okay?" The question came immediately. [Y/n] resisted the urge to groan. Agni above, the man noticed everything. One glance. One glance and somehow he'd already figured out something was off. The fact that Zuko was so good at reading him was usually comforting. Tonight it felt like a personal attack. The strategist forced his expression into something resembling normality and looked back down at the report in front of him. 

"I'm fine." He replied. Zuko remained unconvinced. Naturally. 

"You don't look fine." 

"Thank you for that assessment, Fire Lord." The sarcasm earned exactly the response he'd expected. None. Zuko simply continued watching him, waiting patiently. The same way he always did whenever he knew someone was avoiding a question. [Y/n] sighed. There was no point fighting it forever. "I just had a really bad day." That wasn't even a lie. It was just missing several important details. The Chamberlain. The banquet. The increasingly uncomfortable realisation he'd been desperately trying not to acknowledge for weeks, if not months. The Fire Lord studied him for another moment before slowly nodding. 

"That bad?" He asked. [Y/n] stared at the stack of reports covering his desk and let out a tired laugh. 

"You have no idea."

Zuko seemed to accept the explanation. Or at least accept that he wasn't going to get a more detailed answer right now. The Fire Lord nodded once and let the matter drop, something [Y/n] was immediately grateful for. A moment later, Zuko crossed the room and dropped onto one of the cushions near the window. He stretched his arms above his head before leaning back against the wall with a tired groan. The movement looked painfully familiar. They'd both been working too much lately. The strategist watched him settle for a second before forcing his attention back to the report in front of him. Unfortunately, that became difficult when Zuko sighed loudly. 

"The ministers keep giving me files." Another sigh. [Y/n] already knew exactly which files he meant. 

"The women?" 

"The women." The Fire Lord pointed at him immediately. The strategist couldn't help the tired snort that escaped him. Zuko frowned as he suddenly realised something. "Wait, how do you know about the files?" [Y/n] immediately regretted opening his mouth. Unfortunately, it was too late now.

"The Grand Chamberlain found me at the barracks this afternoon." That earned immediate understanding. The Fire Lord groaned and dropped his head back against the wall.

"Oh no."

"Oh yes."

"What did he want?"

The strategist barked out a short laugh. The sound contained absolutely no amusement.

"What do you think he wanted?"

Zuko immediately looked like a man who had just remembered a traumatic experience.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes." [Y/n] sighed tiredly. The Fire Lord covered his face with one hand. [Y/n] continued before he could recover. "He tried recruiting me." That made Zuko lower his hand.

"Of course he did."

"He said you'd listen to me."

"Why?" The Fire Lord immediately looked offended. [Y/n] raised an eyebrow.

"Because we're friends."

"That's a terrible reason."

"It was his entire argument."

Zuko let out another exhausted sigh and buried his face in his hands. Meanwhile, [Y/n] found himself watching the Fire Lord for a second longer than he should have, immediately realising what he was doing, and immediately looking back down at his paperwork before his brain could betray him again. Eventually, Zuko rubbed a hand over his face.

"And what did you say?"

"What do you mean, what did I say?" [Y/n] looked offended. The Fire Lord raised an eyebrow. The strategist pointed at him. "I told him no."

"Good."

"Obviously."

"You'd be surprised."

"I really wouldn't."

Zuko snorted. The room fell comfortably quiet for a moment. Then [Y/n] remembered the second half of the conversation.

Immediately regretted it.

Unfortunately, the memory surfaced anyway. The strategist stared at the report in front of him. Then at the wall. Then anywhere except Zuko. Across the room, the Fire Lord seemed to notice. His eyes narrowed slightly.

"There's more?"

"No."

"[Y/n]."

"No." The response came far too quickly. Zuko immediately looked suspicious. The strategist sighed. Eventually, he lowered the report. "The Chamberlain also suggested trying to get you and Mai back together." Zuko looked horrified. Genuinely horrified. The reaction was so immediate that [Y/n] almost laughed. "Right?"

"Why would he think that's a good idea?"

"I asked the same thing."

"Mai would kill him."

"Probably."

"And then she'd kill me."

"Definitely."

That earned another laugh. A real one this time. Small. Brief. But genuine.

"I fix one hundred years of my father's mistakes, and somehow people still decide my biggest problem is being single." The frustration in his voice was enough to make [Y/n] snort. Because honestly? He understood exactly how Zuko felt.

For a moment, the conversation settled again. Comfortable. Easy. The sort of quiet that had always existed between them. Unfortunately, [Y/n] was becoming increasingly aware of how close this conversation was drifting toward the parts he'd spent the last hour trying not to think about.

[Y/n] made a conscious effort to return his attention to the reports after that. The conversation about the Chamberlain was at least familiar territory. Annoying, exhausting territory, but familiar. Far safer than the direction his thoughts had been trying to travel before Zuko arrived. 

So he picked up his brush, lowered his gaze to the document in front of him, and attempted to focus. The problem was that the words refused to stay words. They blurred together on the page, turning into meaningless lines of ink while his thoughts wandered elsewhere. Every time he managed to drag them back, they slipped away again. Toward the Southern Water Tribe. Toward the Pai Sho board. Toward the conversation beneath the lights. Toward Zuko. Agni, especially toward Zuko. The strategist clenched his jaw and forced himself to read the report again.

Across the room, Zuko watched him for a while. Then sighed.

"[Y/n]."

"What?" The strategist immediately knew he was in trouble. The Fire Lord raised his eyebrow.

"You've been reading the same page since I got here."

[Y/n] looked down at the report. Then back up. Then down again. Unfortunately, Zuko was right. The realisation only made him more annoyed.

"Maybe it's a very interesting page."

"It isn't."

"You haven't read it."

"I don't need to." The answer came immediately. The Fire Lord leaned back against the wall. "Something's bothering you." The strategist stared at the report.

"Work."

"It's not work."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know what you look like when you're annoyed by work." He paused for a moment, genuine concern beginning to lace his voice. "This is different." [Y/n] hated that answer. Partially because it was accurate. Mostly... because apparently Zuko even noticed the differences in how different irritations change even the smallest parts of his expressions. The room fell quiet again. The strategist forced his attention back to the page.

Security reports. Supply requests. Deployment schedules. Anything. 

Anything except the conversation in the Water Tribe. 

Anything except sitting beneath the southern lights while admitting things he'd spent years refusing to say out loud. 

Anything except remembering the look on Zuko's face when they'd talked about protecting each other. 

Anything except the Pai Sho game.

Agni above, especially not the Pai Sho game.

The memory surfaced anyway.

The board. The pieces. The realisation that Zuko had remembered every move after almost ten years apart.

The strategist felt something twist painfully in his chest, immediately shoved the thought away, and cursed when it came back.

Followed by the conversation in the Water Tribe. Followed by the banquet. Followed by the increasingly impossible task of pretending none of those things affected him.

Across the room, Zuko was still watching him. Concerned. Patient. Waiting. And somehow that only made everything worse.

The strategist felt cornered. Because at this point, he really only had two options. He could tell the truth. He could admit what was actually bothering him. Admit what he'd been thinking about for weeks. Admit why the banquet made his chest hurt. Admit why every conversation about wives and marriages seemed to leave him feeling worse than the last. 

Or he could do literally anything else. 

The second option was immediately more appealing. Unfortunately, the only distraction available was deeply embarrassing. Still, embarrassment was preferable to whatever emotional disaster awaited behind option one. With a silent prayer for strength, [Y/n] swallowed his pride and lowered the report. 

"The Chamberlain mentioned something else earlier." The moment the words left his mouth, Zuko visibly straightened. Concern immediately replaced curiosity.

"What do you mean?" The Fire Lord sat upright. [Y/n] already regretted this. Immensely. Unfortunately, there was no turning back now.

"He..." The strategist rubbed a hand over his face. Agni, he couldn't believe he was about to repeat this conversation. "After the thing about getting you to read the files... And after the thing about Mai... The conversation somehow got worse." Zuko's expression immediately darkened. The concern in his eyes sharpened into something more serious. 

"Worse how?" The question came out far too quickly. Clearly, his mind had already jumped to several unpleasant possibilities. The Fire Lord looked genuinely worried now, which only made [Y/n] feel worse about using this as a distraction. Unfortunately, he was committed. 

"Trust me..." He muttered. "You're not going to like this one either." [Y/n] let out a long sigh. Then another. The second one somehow contained even more regret than the first. "After I refused to help with the wife thing..." He began, already questioning every decision that had led him here. "The Chamberlain decided to explain why the entire situation would apparently be easier if I... were a woman."

The Fire Lord blinked. Once. Twice. Clearly waiting for the rest of the explanation. 

"He said I have political influence." [Y/n] rubbed a hand over his face.

"Okay." Zuko nodded slowly.

"He said we're close."

"Still okay."

"He said you trust me."

"I do." The Fire Lord frowned slightly.

"Exactly." The strategist lazily pointed at him. Unfortunately, he was now committed to finishing the story. "He then explained that if I were a woman, all of the succession problems would have solved themselves."

The room fell silent. Zuko stared. Not horrified. Not embarrassed. Just confused. Like his brain had briefly stopped functioning.

"What?"

"That was my reaction."

The Fire Lord continued staring. Apparently, trying to figure out how those pieces connected together. Unfortunately, the answer arrived a moment later. [Y/n] could practically watch it happen. The confusion disappeared. The realisation hit. Then understanding followed immediately afterwards. And suddenly Zuko's entire face turned bright red. 

"He didn't..."

"Oh, he absolutely did." [Y/n] sighed in exasperation. The Fire Lord buried his face in one hand. [Y/n] continued before he could stop himself. "He said we'd already be close." The flush spread further. "He said the council would approve."

"Worse."

"He said the public would approve."

"Please stop."

"He said any hypothetical children would probably inherit strong strategic abilities." The Fire Lord made a strangled noise. A genuinely alarming sound. One that suggested his soul had briefly attempted to escape through his mouth. The strategist nodded.

"Please stop talking."

"I asked him that too."

Zuko's face was now red enough to rival a volcano. Meanwhile, [Y/n] felt a small amount of vindictive satisfaction. Not because he enjoyed embarrassing Zuko. Because for the first time all evening, somebody else looked more uncomfortable than he did. Unfortunately, the Fire Lord still wasn't done processing the conversation. For several long seconds, he simply sat there. Silent. Red-faced. Staring at absolutely nothing.

Eventually, he lowered his hand and looked back toward [Y/n]. The expression on his face somehow managed to combine horror, disbelief, embarrassment, and profound confusion all at once. And the worst part? The strategist knew exactly how he felt.

The Fire Lord made a noise of profound suffering. Meanwhile, [Y/n] found himself feeling only a tiny amount of sympathy. A very tiny amount. Mostly because he had already lived through the conversation.

"Honestly..." The strategist continued. "I'm jealous."

"What?" Zuko immediately looked up.

"I'm jealous."

"Why?" The Fire Lord stared. [Y/n] pointed at him.

"Because you didn't have to stand there while he explained it." The confusion lasted approximately one second. Then the realisation hit. Then horror. Then embarrassment. Then a fresh wave of horror. The strategist continued anyway. "He spent five minutes listing reasons, and then he explained how all of those problems would apparently be solved if you could put a baby in me."

Silence. Complete silence.

Zuko froze. Completely.

The Fire Lord's face turned red so quickly it was almost impressive. For one terrifying moment, it looked like his soul simply left his body. His mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. No words emerged.

[Y/n] watched the process with the detached fascination of someone observing a natural disaster. Across the room, Zuko looked ready to throw himself directly into the sun. Not metaphorically. Literally. Though the nearest volcano would probably suffice.

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, the Fire Lord managed to drag a hand down his face. Slowly. Painfully. Like he was attempting to erase the entire conversation from existence.

"Why?" The question emerged as little more than a whisper.

"I don't know."

"Why would he say that?"

"I don't know."

"Why would he think that?"

"I don't know."

"Why would he tell you that?"

"I asked myself the same question."

The room fell silent again. Neither of them looked particularly happy to be there. Eventually, Zuko lowered his head into his hands once more. The strategist could see the tips of his ears were still bright red.

Honestly? Fair.

Because every time [Y/n] remembered the conversation, he wanted to launch himself through the nearest wall.

At least now somebody else was suffering with him.

Zuko remained frozen for several more seconds before something seemed to snap. The horror vanished. The embarrassment remained. Unfortunately, it was immediately replaced by a level of awkwardness that [Y/n] had never witnessed before. 

"I'm going to kill him." The declaration came out of nowhere. The Fire Lord sat upright. "Actually, kill him." He pointed vaguely toward the door. "I'm serious." 

"Zuko." 

"No." The Fire Lord rubbed both hands over his face. "No, that's it. He's dead. Tomorrow morning." 

"Zuko." 

"What kind of conversation is that?" The words began tumbling out faster now. "Who says that?" Another gesture. "Who thinks that?" Another. "Who looks at two people and immediately starts-" He cut himself off before finishing the sentence. Probably because he physically couldn't. Across the room, [Y/n] let out a long, suffering sigh and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. Unfortunately, he could feel the heat lingering in his own face. Agni above. This had somehow become even worse than when the Chamberlain originally said it.

Still better than admitting what he was trying to bury deep down, though...

The Fire Lord seemed to realise that panicking wasn't helping. Unfortunately, his attempt to recover proved significantly more dangerous. 

"I mean, obviously, that's ridiculous." The statement came out far too quickly. [Y/n] immediately felt his stomach drop. Somewhere deep inside, every survival instinct he possessed began screaming. Zuko continued anyway. "Not you." A pause. "I mean-" Another pause. "You aren't ridiculous." The Fire Lord looked increasingly horrified by his own words. "Agni..."

The strategist stared at the report in front of him. The report stared back. Zuko, meanwhile, was still digging.

"I just mean that we're friends." The hole got deeper. "Really good friends." Deeper. "We've known each other forever." Deeper. "Like family."

[Y/n] felt something twist painfully in his chest. The Fire Lord didn't notice. Or if he did, he misinterpreted it completely.

"The idea of us being..." Zuko gestured vaguely between them before visibly laughing so nervously it bordered on a panic attack. "...anything else is just..." He stopped. The silence lasted half a second. Then he finished the sentence. "Completely insane."

[Y/n] went very still. The strategist kept his expression perfectly neutral, years of political training finally proving useful. Because the alternative wasn't an option.

The sharp stab in his chest arrived immediately. Painful. Unwanted. Utterly humiliating.

And worst of all, completely deserved.

Of course Zuko thought it was ridiculous.

Of course he did.

He was the Fire Lord.

[Y/n] was his best friend.

That was reality.

It always had been.

The strategist forced himself to nod. Slowly. Calmly. As though nothing had happened. As though his heart hadn't just dropped into his stomach. As though every conversation he'd been trying desperately not to have with himself hadn't suddenly become significantly more difficult.

"Right." The word came out perfectly steady. So [Y/n] lowered his eyes back to the report and pretended to read it. Pretended not to notice the ache in his chest. Pretended not to care. And above all else, pretended that hearing Zuko dismiss the very idea so completely hadn't felt like being punched directly in the heart.

The silence that followed lasted only a few seconds. For Zuko, it felt much longer. Because now that the panic had started to fade, the words he'd actually said were finally catching up with him.

The Fire Lord replayed the conversation in his head. The Chamberlain. The embarrassment. The desperate attempt to make the situation less awkward. Then the words themselves.

'Like family.'

'Completely insane.'

"Oh... No..." Zuko's voice came out so quiet [Y/n] couldn't even hear it. His eyes widened. The realisation hit him like a falling brick. Agni. That was not what he'd meant. Not even remotely. His gaze immediately snapped toward [Y/n].

The strategist was sitting exactly where he'd been moments earlier, one hand resting against the report on his desk. His expression was calm. Neutral. Completely unreadable. Which somehow made everything worse. Zuko knew him too well. Knew how rarely [Y/n] let difficult emotions show when he didn't want them seen. The Fire Lord opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. For perhaps the first time all evening, he genuinely had no idea what to say. Because every attempt to fix the situation suddenly sounded like it would somehow make it even worse.

Meanwhile, [Y/n] kept his eyes firmly fixed on the report in front of him. The words blurred together. He couldn't have repeated a single sentence if someone asked him to. But he kept staring anyway.

Anything was better than looking up.

Anything was better than seeing whatever expression was currently on Zuko's face.

The strategist swallowed and forced himself to focus on the paper. Forced himself to breathe. Forced himself to think. 

This was reality. That was all. The thought repeated itself over and over inside his head. Reality.

Zuko was his best friend.

The Fire Lord.

The most important person in the nation.

Eventually, he'd find someone.

Eventually, he'd marry.

Eventually, all these conversations about wives and heirs would stop because there would actually be a wife and heirs.

That was simply how things worked. How things had always worked. And no amount of wishing otherwise would change it. The ache in his chest sharpened. [Y/n] immediately shoved it down. Again. As hard as he could.

Because whatever this feeling was, it didn't matter. It couldn't matter.

The strategist tightened his grip on the report. No matter how much he hated it. No matter how much it hurt. No matter how badly some part of him wanted things to be different.

This was reality.

And reality didn't care what he wanted.

So he would deal with it. Like he dealt with everything else. Quietly. Alone. And without letting anyone see how much it was breaking him.

The silence stretched. Not the comfortable kind that had always existed between them. Not the easy quiet that came from years of friendship and familiarity. This felt different. Fragile. Uncertain. The sort of silence where both people knew something had gone wrong, but neither knew how to fix it.

Across the room, Zuko sat frozen on the cushion by the window while [Y/n] remained behind his desk, staring at a report neither of them believed he was actually reading. Every instinct told one of them to say something. Make a joke. Change the subject. Pretend none of it had happened. Instead, neither moved. Neither spoke. The strange distance felt impossible. They had known each other for most of their lives. They could usually tell what the other was thinking before a word was spoken. Yet somehow, tonight, they felt even further apart than when they were separated.

[Y/n] glanced up for a fraction of a second. But he couldn't understand it. He couldn't understand why Zuko still looked troubled. The Fire Lord had said exactly what he believed, hadn't he? He'd made himself perfectly clear. The idea of them being anything more than friends was ridiculous. 'Completely insane.'

So why did he still look so uncomfortable? Why did he keep looking at [Y/n] like he was trying to solve a puzzle he couldn't understand?

The strategist hated the questions. Hated the hope they threatened to create. Because hope was dangerous. Hope led nowhere. So he forced himself to focus on reality instead. On what had actually been said. On what it meant.

Across the room, Zuko was having an equally miserable time. Because he couldn't understand why [Y/n] looked so distant. Or why the calm expression on his face felt wrong. Or why the strategist seemed determined not to look at him.

The Fire Lord replayed the conversation over and over, searching for some way to explain what he had meant, but every explanation sounded worse than the original statement. Worse, the more he looked at [Y/n], the more certain he became that something was hurting him. He just couldn't understand what. And that frightened him. Because, for perhaps the first time since they were kids, he genuinely couldn't read the person sitting across from him. Couldn't understand what he was thinking. Couldn't understand why his own chest felt tight every time [Y/n] refused to look up. 

So the two of them sat there in complete silence, separated by only a few feet and yet somehow unable to reach one another at all, each convinced the other understood the situation far better than they did, and neither willing to admit that they were completely lost.

~*~

Taglist: @defronix @1nsan3ab0utmarv3ll @isitthemoon @technicallyasoul @strangeprincessblog @eliathblog @belladonna6-6-6 @petrinholas @professorwaid420

[banco000]

Gamemaster Tempest

Fire Lord Zuko x Male Reader

Chapter 20: Deceptively Simple Rhythm

Masterlist - AO3 - Wattpad Previous Chapter > Chapter 20 > Next Chapter

A week had passed since the Southern Water Tribe Summit, and [Y/n] was still trying to catch up. 

His desk was buried beneath reports General Mak had been forced to leave untouched until the Chief Strategist returned, and every time he managed to clear one pile, another seemed to materialise from thin air. Trade disputes, infrastructure proposals, military assessments, budget requests, correspondence from governors, and an alarming number of nobles who apparently believed their personal grievances constituted matters of national importance all competed for his attention. 

Apparently, the entire Fire Nation had collectively decided that while its Chief Strategist was attending an international summit would be the perfect time to postpone every difficult decision until he returned.

General Mak had done admirable work in his absence. Unfortunately, there were only so many decisions a general could make without stepping on someone else's authority. Which meant all the remaining ones eventually found their way here. To his desk. Where they now sat in several neat stacks that seemed to multiply every time he looked away.

It was enough to make him miss the Southern Water Tribe, which was a deeply concerning thought considering that trip had ended with a mountain exploding. The summit itself had actually gone surprisingly well. Representatives from every nation had gathered without starting an international incident. Aang had successfully kept the discussions moving forward, and for a brief moment, it had felt like the peace they had all fought so hard for was finally settling into something permanent. 

Then the Burning Eye had revealed itself, several people had nearly died beneath a collapsing mountain, and [Y/n] had been reminded that peace had a habit of becoming complicated whenever it seemed most secure.

The week since returning had been filled with briefings, reports, and enough classified meetings to make his head hurt. The public version of events involved an unfortunate geological incident somewhere in the Southern Water Tribe and a summit that had otherwise been considered a complete success. 

The truth was significantly less comforting. 

The Burning Eye was older and larger than they had initially believed, someone within the Fire Nation was still feeding information to the organisation, and a disturbing number of questions remained unanswered. Every conversation seemed to lead back to the same concerns. Intelligence reports crossed his desk daily. Security recommendations arrived almost as frequently. 

Zuko had spent the week balancing government responsibilities with investigations that officially didn't exist, while [Y/n] had been doing the same between mountains of paperwork. Somewhere in the middle of all that, the Royal Banquet had continued its relentless march toward becoming reality. Which meant that alongside secret extremist organisations and potential traitors, he also had to worry about several hundred nobles descending on the capital in three months. Frankly, he wasn't sure which problem was giving him the larger headache anymore. 

[Y/n] signed another approval form and slid it into a completed pile. The pile did not get noticeably smaller. He was beginning to suspect the paperwork was breeding. His eyes briefly skimmed over a letter from his parents, who were still less-than-pleased about his return to the palace and still completely against his decision to take up his uncle's old role. And that was without them knowing about the attacks... Ignoring their complaints, he glossed over their updates on various happenings in the Earth Kingdom before quickly writing a reply and moving on.

Across from him, Ty Lee occupied one of the guest chairs in a position that would have looked deeply uncomfortable for anyone else. The former acrobat somehow managed to lounge sideways while still gesturing dramatically enough to nearly fall out of the chair every few minutes. Most of her attention was focused on recounting everything [Y/n] had missed while attending the summit. 

Some of it involved actual Kyoshi Warrior business: smugglers intercepted near the harbour, a weapons dealer uncovered during a routine investigation, patrol assignments, and the endless list of duties that came with helping maintain order in the capital. 

The rest was gossip. Apparently, three minor noble families had become involved in a public argument over a trade contract, one council member had accidentally insulted another during a formal dinner, and someone had managed to lose a pet turtleduck somewhere inside the palace gardens who was now probably happily frolicking amongst its own kind in one of the ponds or fountains. Ty Lee delivered each story with exactly the same level of enthusiasm, making it increasingly difficult to determine which events were genuinely important and which ones she simply found entertaining.

Mai occupied the chair beside her, looking considerably more relaxed. She had her feet propped up on an empty seat while leaning back with a book resting in her lap, projecting the familiar appearance of someone who would rather be almost anywhere else. 

Despite that, she had spent the past several minutes discussing her students with surprising patience. Teaching had suited her far better than anyone would have predicted years ago, though she would deny that fact if asked directly. According to Mai, one student had managed to turn a simple history discussion into an argument involving a cabbage, another had attempted to use an essay to complain about homework instead of completing the assignment, and several others seemed determined to test the limits of her patience on a daily basis. 

She spoke about each incident with the same dry resignation she applied to most things, yet [Y/n] had noticed long ago that she never talked about her classes with genuine irritation. Beneath the complaints and sarcasm, she clearly cared about the students far more than she would ever willingly admit.

Still, the conversations were far from what anyone else would consider normal. Sometimes he genuinely forgot how strange his friends were. Eventually, Ty Lee's attention shifted away from smugglers, noble scandals, and missing turtleducks. She leaned forward in her chair and pointed directly at [Y/n]. 

"So..." She started, clearly excited about something. "How did it go?" [Y/n] looked up from the report he was reading. 

"The summit?" 

"No." Ty Lee immediately waved a hand dismissively while [Y/n] raised a brow. 

"The summit was the entire reason I left." 

"I already read the summit report." She waved him off. [Y/n] stared at her. Ty Lee continued before he could respond. "And the report about you and Zuko almost dying." She added, far too casually. "So I'm not interested in either of those." The strategist slowly lowered the document in his hands. 

"Thank you for the concern." His voice was completely flat. Ty Lee ignored the sarcasm entirely. She had spent years building an immunity to it. Instead, her grin widened. 

"I mean meeting them." Ty Lee clarified, looking almost scandalised that [Y/n] still hadn't filled her in on how the meeting went. "Aang, Katara, Sokka, and Toph." 

"Oh." Realisation immediately crossed [Y/n]'s face. 

"Yes, 'oh'." She pointed dramatically. "You've spent years hearing stories about them." 

"That's true." 

"You've known Zuko for more than a decade." 

"I was away for a lot of it, but I guess that's also true." 

"And you've somehow never met any of his closest friends." When she put it that way, it did sound strange. Zuko talked about them often enough. Usually, it was Aang doing something ridiculous, Sokka creating some new insane invention, Katara trying to keep everyone organised and getting mad in the process, or Toph threatening violence whenever someone annoyed her.

"That's actually a good question." Mai lowered her book slightly, apparently interested in the answer as well. [Y/n] considered it for a moment. Then a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

"They were... different than what I expected."  

"That's not an answer." Ty Lee looked unimpressed. The strategist leaned back in his chair as he rolled his eyes. 

"Aang is somehow both more mature and less mature than I expected." [Y/n] started, smiling fondly while Ty Lee nodded. That sounded accurate. "Katara is exactly as terrifying as everyone warned me she would be." Mai snorted quietly. "Sokka somehow managed to start three separate arguments in less than an hour." 

"Only three?" Ty Lee asked. 

"I think he was making a low effort." That earned another laugh. "And Toph..." He paused briefly. "Toph threatened to throw me into a wall within like fifteen minutes of meeting me." The room fell silent for a moment. Then Ty Lee nodded firmly. 

"Checks out."

For a moment, [Y/n] found himself thinking back to the trip. The snow. The endless white horizon. The frozen caverns beneath the tundra. The strange beauty of the Southern Water Tribe. Then his thoughts drifted toward the lights. The memory pulled a faint smile onto his face before he could stop it.

For a moment, the reports and paperwork seemed to fade into the background.

"I still remember the lights... It looked like the entire sky was moving..." The memory remained vivid. Ribbons of green and blue stretching endlessly across the darkness. Reflections dancing across ice and snow. A sight so beautiful it barely seemed real.

"I've always wanted to see them." Ty Lee's expression brightened.

"You should." The answer came immediately. "They're worth the trip." [Y/n] couldn't help but sigh a little. Not tired or annoyed. Just at ease with the memory.

For a brief moment, nobody spoke. Then reality returned. Specifically, the reality involving collapsing caves and homicidal extremists. Unfortunately, it was impossible to discuss the summit for long without eventually circling back to the Burning Eye. The shift happened naturally. One moment, they were discussing the Southern Water Tribe, and the next Ty Lee was asking if the surviving attackers had said anything useful since being transferred south. [Y/n]'s expression immediately flattened. 

"No." That answer seemed to disappoint both women. 

"Nothing?" Ty Lee asked. The strategist shook his head. 

"Nothing useful. The interrogators have gotten half-baked lies about individual members, safehouses, and recruitment methods, but nothing substantial." He set down the report he was reading and rubbed his temples. "Neither of them knows who the organisation's leadership is. Neither of them knows who the Fire Nation contact is. Neither of them knows what the Burning Eye's larger objective actually looks like." He rambled, all but facepalming at the sheer audacity of it all. Mai frowned at that. 

"They were willing to die for the organisation without knowing who was running it?" 

"Apparently." The answer sounded just as ridiculous to [Y/n] as it did to everyone else. "The organisation keeps information compartmentalised. Members know what they're required to know and almost nothing beyond that." Ty Lee was quiet for a moment before asking another question. 

"What about the plans your uncle left behind?" That earned a sigh. The strategist leaned back in his chair and stared briefly at the ceiling. 

"That's still one of our biggest concerns." Both women listened carefully. "We know the Burning Eye obtained some of the archives. We know they've been using them. We know those documents helped them grow faster than they otherwise would have." He paused briefly. "What we don't know is how much they actually have." The uncertainty hung heavily in the room. Mai closed her book completely now. 

"So they could still be sitting on information nobody realises is missing." 

"Exactly." [Y/n] nodded. "And until we know who supplied them with those documents in the first place, we have to assume they're still receiving help from somewhere inside the Fire Nation." That statement brought the conversation to a halt. Of everything they'd learned at the summit, that remained the most troubling conclusion. A secret extremist organisation was dangerous. A secret extremist organisation with allies inside the government was considerably worse.

The room fell quiet once more.

Outside, life continued normally.

Citizens crossed the streets. Ships moved through the harbour. Guards patrolled the walls. Most of the nation had no idea a group like the Burning Eye even existed.

And for now...

That was probably for the best.

[Y/n] looked back down at the report in front of him. Then sighed. The Fire Nation might have a secret extremist organisation plotting something catastrophic. There might be an unknown traitor somewhere inside the government. The future might be increasingly complicated.

But right now?

Right now, he still had three dozen reports waiting for approval.

Some problems, unfortunately, were eternal.

Eventually, the conversation drifted away from the Burning Eye and back toward less depressing topics. Or at least topics that were depressing in a different way. Ty Lee stretched in her chair before suddenly snapping her fingers. 

"Oh." [Y/n] immediately looked suspicious. That tone never led anywhere good. 

"What?" 

"I forgot to mention it, but the Grand Chamberlain has practically been attached to Zuko's hip since you two got back." Ty Lee pointed across the desk at him. The strategist paused in the middle of reviewing a report. Then he sighed and nodded. 

"I've noticed." 

"It's honestly impressive." Ty Lee continued. "I saw him follow Zuko through three separate inspections, two meetings, lunch, and somehow tea." 

"The tea was the strange part." Mai lowered her book slightly.

"Right?" Ty Lee said. "Everything else made sense. The tea felt personal." [Y/n] let out another sigh and set the report aside. 

"Honestly, what you've seen is still better than how he reacted during the private briefing." That immediately got both women's attention. Ty Lee sat up straighter. Mai closed her book. The private meeting after the summit had been restricted to a handful of senior officials: Zuko, [Y/n], General Mak, Admiral Jee, a handfull ofiIntelligence officers and the Grand Chamberlain. Anyone important enough to learn the full truth about what had happened beneath the Southern Water Tribe. 

"That bad?" Mai asked. The strategist barked out a short laugh. 

"The man looked like he aged ten years in four hours." [Y/n] groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. Ty Lee immediately covered her mouth to stop herself from laughing. It didn't work. "He spent most of the meeting looking like he wanted to lock Zuko in the palace and throw away the key." 

"[Y/n]." 

"I'm serious." He rubbed his temples as the memory resurfaced. "He sat quietly through the entire explanation. The attack. The prisoners. The stolen documents. The fact that someone inside the Fire Nation is helping them. Every new piece of information made him look closer and closer to an early grave." The memory actually pulled a faint smile onto [Y/n]'s face despite himself.  "Then we got to the part where Zuko, Aang, and several other internationally important people were trapped beneath a collapsing mountain while assassins tried to capture or kill them..." 

"Oh no." Ty Lee immediately winced. 

"Oh yes." The strategist pointed toward the door. "By the end of the briefing, he was one bad sentence away from banning Zuko from leaving the capital for the rest of his life." Mai snorted quietly. "I'm not exaggerating." He leaned back in his chair. "I think his exact proposition was that 'if the Fire Lord couldn't be trusted to avoid secret terrorist organisations and exploding mountains, then perhaps the Fire Lord should simply remain in the Fire Nation permanently'." Ty Lee lost the battle and burst out laughing. Even Mai's expression softened slightly. The Grand Chamberlain's reaction might have been excessive, but after everything that had happened in the south, none of them could honestly say they blamed him. "The man has spent the last few days operating entirely on panic."

"Can you blame him?" Mai asked.

"No." That was the problem. [Y/n] couldn't. The Burning Eye wasn't some random criminal group. They had attacked Zuko. Attacked the Avatar. Targeted some of the most influential people in the world. And somewhere in the Fire Nation, there was likely still someone helping them.

Honestly, the Grand Chamberlain's reaction had been completely reasonable.

"Is it bad that I'm finding this funny?" Ty Lee leaned forward slightly.

"Yes."

"I still think it's funny."

The strategist sighed. The Grand Chamberlain was a good man. A loyal man. A competent man. But unfortunately, he had recently learned that the Fire Lord possessed a remarkable talent for accidentally attracting danger like the world's most powerful magnet. And now everyone else was suffering the consequences. 

Ty Lee's laughter slowly died down before a new thought seemed to occur to her. Unfortunately, the look on her face immediately told [Y/n] he wasn't going to enjoy whatever came next. 

"Speaking of things the Grand Chamberlain isn't happy about..." She began. The strategist visibly winced. "Suki told me you handled inviting Aang and the others." [Y/n] let out a long sigh and dropped his head back against his chair. Of course, Suki had told her. There was apparently no piece of information in the world that remained secret once it passed through a Kyoshi Warrior. 

"I did." 

"So Zuko couldn't get in trouble for it?" 

"The Fire Lord already has enough people trying to tell him how to run his social life." He pointed vaguely toward the ceiling. 

"That's a yes." Ty Lee grinned. [Y/n] chose not to answer. Mostly because he knew she was right. "Wow, you really don't want this banquet going ahead." She laughed, watching how the very mention of the banquet seemed to drain what little energy remained in him. It was impressive, honestly. Few things could exhaust him faster than discussing the event. To his surprise, Mai looked equally unimpressed. She closed her book and rested it on her lap. 

"I'm with him." Both of them looked at her. The teacher shrugged. "I was invited." Mai's expression remained perfectly flat. "I'm going, but I'm not happy about it." 

"Why does everyone hate this banquet?" Ty Lee stared in disbelief. 

"Because it's a political event pretending to be a party." Mai answered immediately. [Y/n] nodded in agreement. 

"Exactly." 

"There will be hundreds of nobles there." Mai continued, visibly grimacing at the mere thought. "And diplomats." She added. "And council members." By the end of her tangent, she looked ready to pull out her blades. Ty Lee looked between the two of them. It was becoming increasingly clear that she was the only person in the room looking forward to any part of this.

"Well, at least nobody is going to spend the evening throwing their children at you." [Y/n] remarked. Mai paused. Then she slowly looked toward him. 

"That's true." 

"You can just attend, survive the evening, and leave. I'm going to have to deal with: 'My daughter would just love to talk to you about a possible alliance'all night long. Even with my plans to escape, I doubt it'll work the whole night." The strategist groaned. Ty Lee immediately gasped. 

"Mai's still pretty." She declared, and the other two already knew where she was going with this.

"Ty Lee." Mai narrowed her eyes. 

"People are absolutely still going to throw their sons at you." 

"No, they aren't." 

"They absolutely are." Ty Lee pointed dramatically across the room. "Maybe not for political influence." Then she paused. "Actually, probably still for political influence. You are next in line to take over as headmistress of the Academy..." She trailed off while Mai stared at her for several seconds with a look that all just screamed 'please shut up'. The silence stretched for another heartbeat or two. Then she looked toward [Y/n]. 

"Can I throw her out the window?" 

"Not from my office, I'll get in trouble." 

"Can I threaten to?" 

"I encourage it." He replied. Ty Lee looked delighted by the answer while Mai rolled her eyes and reached for her book again.

"At least you'll both look nice." She added. [Y/n] and Mai just stared at her. The look communicated exactly how little comfort they both found in that statement. Ty Lee ignored it. As usual.  Mai looked toward the ceiling, clearly praying for patience. Unfortunately, Agni had abandoned them all years ago.

The amusement gradually faded after that, leaving the conversation circling back toward the real reason neither [Y/n] nor Zuko seemed particularly enthusiastic about the banquet. 

"Zuko definitely isn't looking forward to it either, is he?" Ty Lee tilted her head slightly, her voice softening. 

"Not even a little." The answer came immediately. [Y/n] set another completed report aside. "Honestly, I think he'd rather fight another group of assassins." 

"That's probably true." Mai admitted. The room fell quiet for a moment. Because beneath all the jokes, they all knew exactly what the banquet actually represented. Officially, it was a celebration. A political gathering. An opportunity to strengthen relationships between important families and officials. Unofficially, a large portion of the court viewed it as an opportunity to solve what they considered a problem. The Fire Lord was twenty. Unmarried. And every noble family in the nation seemed determined to fix that as quickly as possible.

"That has to get exhausting." Ty Lee's smile faded. [Y/n] nodded. 

"I imagine it does." The strategist leaned back in his chair and stared briefly toward the ceiling. "Can you imagine having an entire room full of people looking at you and seeing nothing except political influence?" Neither woman answered immediately. They didn't need to. "The council talks about heirs." [Y/n] continued. "The nobles talk about alliances. Everyone talks about stability and succession and family lines." He sighed. "Sometimes I wonder how often anyone remembers that Zuko is actually a person." The words hung in the air for a moment. 

Nobody in the room disliked the Grand Chamberlain. Nobody thought the advisors were acting maliciously. Most of them genuinely wanted what they believed was best for the nation. But that didn't change how dehumanising it must feel. To have people discussing your future, your marriage, and eventually your children as though they were political assets rather than deeply personal parts of your life.

The mention of heirs drew an immediate grimace from [Y/n]. He had heard the conversation often enough over the past few months that he could practically recite the arguments himself. Stability. Succession. The future of the nation. The words always sounded reasonable when spoken aloud, which somehow made them more frustrating. 

Because no matter how politically reasonable they sounded, every time he heard someone reduce Zuko to nothing but a tool to garner influence, it made him equal parts furious and disgusted.

As Ty Lee and Mai continued talking, a strange feeling settled somewhere in his chest. Uncomfortable. Tight. He couldn't quite identify it and, more importantly, had no intention of trying. It was probably annoyance. The banquet annoyed him. The council annoyed him. The entire situation annoyed him. That was all. There was absolutely no reason to examine the feeling any further, so he shoved it aside and focused on the much safer task of being irritated at politicians.

But it still wouldn't go away...

"Considering his childhood, that probably makes it worse." Mai looked down at the cover of her book. [Y/n] nodded slowly. It absolutely did. 

Zuko had spent years watching the consequences of political marriages. His own parents were proof of that. Ursa had been forced into a marriage she never wanted because it suited Ozai's ambitions. The damage that had caused lingered long after the marriage itself had ended. 

The thought lingered longer than he expected. Maybe because he had seen firsthand what those kinds of arrangements could do to people. Maybe because he had watched Ursa slowly become someone lighter and happier once she was finally free to build a life on her own terms. Or maybe because the idea of someone deciding Zuko's future for him simply sat wrong in a way [Y/n] couldn't fully explain. 

His feelings on the matter were complicated enough already. Part of him understood the council's concerns. Another part wanted to throw every succession proposal directly into the ocean. What mattered, however, was the conclusion he always arrived at:

Whatever happened in the future, whatever choices Zuko eventually made, [Y/n] wanted those choices to actually belong to him. 

The Fire Lord had spent too much of his life being told who he should be, where he should go, and what he was worth. If there was one thing [Y/n] was certain of, it was that Zuko deserved the chance to be happy on his own terms. Even if the rest of the nation couldn't seem to understand that.

"I know the council means well... In their own way..." He said quietly. "Most of them do. But after everything his family went through..." He shook his head. "I really hope Zuko never ends up trapped in something like that." Neither Ty Lee nor Mai argued. Because for all their teasing, they both hoped the exact same thing.

Ty Lee was quiet for a few moments after that. Then, because apparently she was incapable of leaving a conversation alone once curiosity got involved, she tilted her head. 

"So do either of you actually have a plan?" She asked. [Y/n] immediately knew what she meant. He sighed before she had even finished speaking. 

"Not really." He crossed his arms over his chest. "The plan strategy is to politely decline everyone." 

"That's it?" Ty Lee stared. "That's your grand political strategy?" 

"What exactly would you like me to do?" [Y/n] spread his hands. Ty Lee opened her mouth. Paused. Then closed it again. Fair enough. "The plan is to survive the evening, politely reject whoever needs rejecting, hope neither of us gets drugged, hope nobody decides to make an advance they shouldn't, and then deal with the council's complaints afterwards." The room fell silent. 

"It's a little scary how casually you said all of that." Then Ty Lee frowned. [Y/n] didn't immediately respond. Instead, he looked back down at the report in front of him. Eventually, he shrugged. 

"Welcome to politics." The answer wasn't particularly comforting. It wasn't meant to be. 

Anyone important enough in the Fire Nation's political landscape learned very quickly that banquets and social gatherings could be dangerous in ways that battlefields weren't. Most nobles were decent people. Many genuinely wanted what they believed was best for the nation. Unfortunately, history had proven that all it took was one ambitious family, one desperate individual, or one person who viewed political advancement as more important than common sense. 

The fact that Ty Lee looked disturbed by the possibility while [Y/n] and Zuko largely treated it as another security concern probably said something worrying about how they'd spent their formative years being prepared for government. 

"At least I have one advantage." The strategist finally set his report aside. "When I came back, Zuko approved my request to formally discredit my family's house." Ty Lee blinked, clearly not understanding why he'd ask for that. Mai looked up from her book. She already knew this part, but Ty Lee clearly didn't. 

"[Y/n] wanted to start over." The teacher explained, and the strategist nodded. 

"My uncle's legacy was always going to follow me around otherwise." [Y/n] sighed, his gaze lingering somewhere far, far away as he looked down at his desk in thought.

Years ago, his family name had carried considerable weight throughout the Fire Nation. For generations, it stood to serve the Royal Family at the height of what anyone could consider nobility. His uncle had been one of Ozai's most trusted strategists, and while history remembered his final act of defiance, it also remembered everything that came before it. Removing the house from prominence had allowed [Y/n] to return without inheriting all of that baggage. At least officially. 

"It probably reduced the number of nobles interested in me. There's no House [L/n] anymore; it just so happens that the current Chief Strategist should have been the current head of that house." He explained, and Ty Lee seemed hopeful, but [Y/n] shut that down before she could get too excited on his behalf. "I don't have a noble house anymore. I don't have ancestral lands. I don't have family influence. But, unfortunately, I am still the Chief Strategist of the Fire Nation and one of the Fire Lord's closest advisors." Ty Lee was quiet for a moment until her smile dropped as the realisation dawned on her. 

"Oh." 

"Exactly." The position carried enough political influence on its own to make up for everything else. If anything, some families probably viewed him as a better target now because his influence came directly from his position rather than inherited status. The thought earned another sigh. 

"So in conclusion..." Ty Lee said. "You're both doomed."

"Pretty much."

Before Ty Lee could try to salvage the conversation, the doors to [Y/n]'s office suddenly swung open. Every head in the room turned.

The first thing [Y/n] noticed was Zuko. The second thing he noticed was the expression on Zuko's face. The Fire Lord looked exhausted. Not physically exhausted. Not the kind of tired that came from training or travel. This was the expression of a man who had spent several consecutive hours being spoken at.

Behind him, the Grand Chamberlain continued walking into the room without missing a beat.

"...and while I understand that the eastern trade delegation technically does not require final confirmation for another week, delaying the paperwork only creates unnecessary complications later and-"

[Y/n] immediately grimaced. Across the room, Ty Lee and Mai exchanged a look. It was a remarkably communicative look.

Ty Lee's expression clearly said: Oh no.

Mai's expression clearly replied: Here we go.

Neither woman moved. Neither woman intervened. Both had apparently decided to simply watch the disaster unfold from a safe distance. Cowards.

Meanwhile, Zuko spotted [Y/n]. The relief was immediate. Visible. The look of a drowning man spotting land. [Y/n] sighed. Then pushed himself to his feet.

"You okay?" He already very clearly knew the answer. Zuko immediately waved it away.

"I'm surviving..." The response came with enough exhaustion behind it that the strategist almost felt bad for him. Almost. "How's the backlog?" [Y/n] glanced meaningfully at the mountain of reports covering his desk. Then looked back at Zuko.

"Probably about as well as you're handling yours." He shrugged tiredly. All Zuko could offer in return was a long, understanding sigh. The kind only another government official could truly appreciate.

"Yeah." The single word carried immense suffering. A moment of mutual understanding passed between them. Unfortunately, it didn't last. Because the Grand Chamberlain was still present. The older man immediately stepped forward.

"And that is precisely why both of you should be working rather than discussing how much work remains unfinished." The moment shattered. Ty Lee buried her face in one hand. Mai slowly opened her book again. The Grand Chamberlain continued. "The Fire Lord's schedule is already behind by forty-three minutes."

"Forty-two." Zuko corrected automatically. The Chamberlain looked horrified.

"The fact that you know that number does not improve the situation."

"It improves my understanding of the situation."

"It absolutely does not."

"It does."

"It doesn't."

"It does."

The older man looked ready to age another decade. Across the room, [Y/n] suddenly understood why the Grand Chamberlain had been following Zuko everywhere. Not because he didn't trust him. Because if he left Zuko unsupervised for more than twenty minutes, the Fire Lord would probably wander off and find another problem to solve.

The Grand Chamberlain looked between Zuko and [Y/n] as though searching for some last source of sanity in the room. Unfortunately for him, he had come to the wrong place. After several seconds of watching the Fire Lord stubbornly ignore every attempt to return to work, the older man finally turned toward the strategist. 

"Chief Strategist." [Y/n] immediately knew what was coming. The tone alone gave it away. "Surely you can see that the Fire Lord's schedule requires immediate attention." The Chamberlain gestured toward Zuko as though presenting evidence before a tribunal. "There are still reports awaiting review, banquet preparations requiring approval, and several-" The strategist held up a hand before the list could continue. Then he gestured vaguely toward the Fire Lord. 

"The leader of the nation looks approximately twenty seconds away from collapsing from exhaustion." He reminded. Zuko genuinely looked like [Y/n] just parted the heavens for him. 

"Thank you." 

"You're welcome." 

The Chamberlain looked deeply offended by this betrayal. Before he could recover, Ty Lee spoke up from across the room. 

"To be fair..." She started. "He doesn't look much better himself." Every eye in the room turned toward [Y/n]. The strategist blinked once. Then twice. Ty Lee smiled brightly, silently gesturing to... all of him. Mai lowered her book slightly. Even Zuko looked mildly interested in the answer. [Y/n] stared at the former acrobat for several seconds before deciding violence was unfortunately illegal. 

"Don't you have Kyoshi Warrior work to do?" The question came completely flat. Ty Lee's smile somehow widened. 

"No." 

"Any investigations?" 

"Nope." 

"Patrols?" 

"Not today." 

"Arrests?" 

"Already finished."  She beamed. The strategist slowly closed his eyes. The room somehow became even less helpful than usual. Ty Lee looked entirely too pleased with herself. "Why?" She asked innocently. "[Y/n], are you saying I should leave?" 

[Y/n] didn't even dignify that with a response. He just sighed, staring ahead with all the energy of a dead man walking. Across the room, Zuko barked out a laugh for the first time since entering the office. The sound immediately made the Grand Chamberlain look vindicated, as though this somehow proved his argument about breaks all along. The older man opened his mouth, no doubt preparing another speech about rest, schedules, productivity, or all three. The moment he did, four separate people visibly braced themselves. Somehow, that was enough to make even him hesitate. Only for a moment. But everyone in the room noticed.

Unfortunately for him, Zuko spoke first. The Fire Lord let out a long sigh. Then pointed toward the door.

"Take a break." He ordered. The older man blinked. Then immediately frowned. 

"My Fire Lord-" 

"A break." Zuko repeated. The Chamberlain looked genuinely horrified by the suggestion. 

"There are still reports requiring review." 

"There will still be reports requiring review in thirty minutes." 

"There are banquet preparations." 

"Those will also exist in thirty minutes." Zuko replied flatly. The older man opened his mouth again, clearly preparing a fresh list of reasons why stopping work for even a moment would somehow result in the collapse of civilisation. To everyone's surprise, someone else spoke first. 

"He's right." The room fell silent. The Chamberlain turned slowly toward Mai. So did everyone else. The teacher didn't even look up from her book. For a moment, the Grand Chamberlain seemed too surprised to formulate a response. 

"Excuse me?" He asked, sounding almost scandalised. Mai finally lowered the book and regarded him with the same expression she usually reserved for students who had asked a particularly obvious question. 

"From an educational standpoint, the Fire Lord is correct." That somehow confused the Chamberlain even more. Mai continued anyway. "Overworking yourself reduces concentration, decision making, memory retention, and problem solving." The older man stared. 

"I assure you-" 

"No." The interruption was immediate. Flat. And completely confident. It was the same tone she used in classrooms. The tone that apparently left no room for disagreement. "You think you're being more productive." Mai crossed one leg over the other. "What you're actually doing is increasing the likelihood of mistakes." The Chamberlain frowned, but Mai continued before he could interject. "Mistakes create more work. More work creates more problems. More problems create more risks." She gestured vaguely toward both him and Zuko. "You're trying to prevent future problems while actively increasing the chances of creating them."

The office fell quiet. The logic was annoyingly difficult to argue against. The Grand Chamberlain clearly knew that too. He looked toward Zuko, perhaps hoping for support. Unfortunately for him, the Fire Lord was maintaining a perfectly neutral expression. A very controlled expression. A very dignified expression. [Y/n], however, had known Zuko since they were children. He could see straight through it. Behind that carefully composed face, Zuko was practically celebrating. The Fire Lord looked one successful argument away from declaring Mai a national treasure. The fact that she had managed to win a debate neither he nor [Y/n] had been making progress on all week only made it worse. Across the room, Ty Lee had noticed it too. Judging by the increasingly amused look on her face, she was seconds away from pointing it out. Which meant the situation was somehow about to get even worse.

For several long seconds, the Grand Chamberlain simply stood there. His gaze moved from Zuko to Mai, then to [Y/n], and finally to Ty Lee, who immediately smiled at him. That seemed to make the situation worse. The older man looked like he wanted to argue. He looked like he wanted to produce at least six additional reports and three schedules proving why everyone in the room was wrong. 

Unfortunately, even he appeared to recognise that he had lost this particular battle. Eventually, he released a long sigh. 

"Thirty minutes." The words sounded physically painful. Zuko nodded immediately. The Chamberlain pointed a finger at him. "And when I return, the banquet guest list is being finalised." Then he pointed at [Y/n]. "The security proposals are being reviewed." Then at Ty Lee. "And you are not encouraging this." 

"I would never!" Ty Lee replied cheerfully. The Chamberlain clearly didn't believe her. Judging by the look he gave the room as a whole, he didn't believe any of them. Nevertheless, after one final warning glance, he turned and strode out of the office. The door closed behind him with a soft click.

Silence settled over the office. A long silence. A peaceful silence. The silence of four people collectively appreciating the absence of one very determined administrator.

The moment it did, Zuko collapsed. Not dramatically. Not theatrically. He simply seemed to lose whatever force had been holding him upright and sank into the chair opposite [Y/n]'s desk with the relief of a man who had narrowly escaped execution. 

"Thank you, Mai." The words carried genuine gratitude. Mai didn't even look up from her book. 

"You can thank me by increasing the education budget." The answer came so quickly that it was obvious she had been waiting to use it. Ty Lee immediately burst out laughing. Even [Y/n]'s mouth twitched. Across the room, Zuko stared for a moment before letting out a tired snort. 

"Was that your plan the entire time?"

"Maybe." 

"You used me." 

"For the children." Mai finally turned a page. "You can't argue when it's for the children." She remarked casually, though the glint in her eye told all of them just how smug she was about it. Zuko dropped his head back against the chair and groaned.  Ty Lee waited until the sound of the Grand Chamberlain's footsteps had completely disappeared before turning toward Zuko. Her expression softened slightly. Beneath all the teasing, she genuinely was concerned. 

"So, how are you holding up?" She asked. The Fire Lord opened his mouth. Paused. Then let out a sound that could generously be described as a response. It was somewhere between a groan and a sigh. Before anyone could ask him to elaborate, Zuko leaned forward and dropped his head directly onto [Y/n]'s desk. The movement was abrupt enough that several reports vanished beneath a curtain of dark hair. [Y/n] stared down at him. Then at the paperwork that had just disappeared. Then back at him. An annoyed grunt escaped before he could stop it. 

"You're on my reports." He complained while Zuko made absolutely no effort to move. 

"Mm." 

"I spent twenty minutes organising those."

"[Y/n]." 

"What?" 

"Shut up and leave me be." The response was muffled by the fact that his face was currently buried in his arms.

Ty Lee immediately burst out laughing. Mai looked suspiciously amused as well. The strategist considered physically removing Zuko from his desk. Unfortunately, he was fairly certain the Fire Lord would simply collapse right back onto it. Eventually, he gave up and reached for a different stack of reports instead. 

"You're impossible." He muttered. Zuko raised one hand in a vague gesture of agreement before letting it fall back onto the desk. Apparently, that was all the energy he could spare. The sight was ridiculous enough that it gradually pulled the tension from the room. For the first time since entering the office, nobody seemed particularly concerned about council meetings, security reports, secret extremist organisations, or banquet preparations. 

It was just the four of them. Friends who had known one another for years. Friends who could sit in comfortable silence without feeling obligated to fill it.

The conversation gradually drifted back toward ordinary things. Ty Lee resumed telling stories from recent patrols while Mai occasionally interjected with increasingly concerning tales about her students. At one point, she casually mentioned confiscating a homemade catapult from a classroom and refused to elaborate further. Ty Lee spent several minutes trying to guess why a student would build a catapult in the first place while Mai repeatedly informed her that she didn't want to know. 

Throughout all of it, Zuko remained exactly where he was, face hidden in his arms and occupying an unreasonable percentage of [Y/n]'s desk. Every now and then, he would contribute a comment or a laugh without lifting his head. The sight should have been ridiculous. It probably was ridiculous. But watching him relax enough to stop acting like the Fire Lord for a little while was strangely reassuring. After the week they'd all had, maybe this was exactly what they needed. A few stolen minutes where they could just be themselves before reality came crashing back through the door.

After a while, Zuko finally stirred. The Fire Lord let out a long sigh before slowly lifting his head from his arms. A few strands of dark hair fell into his eyes as he sat back up, looking only marginally more alive than before. His gaze drifted toward [Y/n] across the desk. 

"Have you come up with anything?" He sounded like he was begging to be saved from a death sentence. Which blatantly confirmed he was talking about the banquet. And, more specifically, the Burning Eye's likelihood to take interest in it. The strategist glanced up from the report he was pretending to read. Understanding settled over [Y/n]'s expression as he leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling for a moment before answering. 

"Other than cancelling it?" He offered, though they both knew the answer already. Zuko snorted. 

"The council would riot." 

"The Grand Chamberlain might actually have a heart attack." 

"He'd survive long enough to kill us both first." Zuko remarked while Ty Lee laughed. [Y/n] just sighed. 

"Then no. I've got nothing." He gestured vaguely toward the growing collection of reports scattered across his desk. "More guards. More patrols. More security. More contingency plans. That's about all we've got."

Zuko didn't look particularly encouraged by that answer. Unfortunately, neither was [Y/n]. The Fire Lord leaned back in his chair and stared toward the windows. Outside, the palace grounds looked peaceful. Safe. Normal. It felt strangely disconnected from the conversation taking place inside the office.

"I hate not knowing what they're planning." The admission was quiet. Honest. Nobody mocked him for it. They all felt the same way. The Burning Eye remained frustratingly elusive. They knew the organisation existed. They knew it had resources, supporters, and ambitions. They knew it had already attempted to kill world leaders. What they didn't know was what came next. That uncertainty was somehow worse than any concrete threat. At least a known enemy could be planned for. An unknown one could be anywhere.

"Honestly, judging from the reports, it seems pretty obvious what they like." Mai was the first to break the silence. Everyone looked toward her. The teacher shrugged. "Symbolism and attention." That earned a slow nod from [Y/n]. "Everything they've done so far has been designed to make a statement." 

"She's right." Ty Lee sat forward slightly. Her expression had lost most of its usual playfulness. "Think about it." She gestured between Zuko and [Y/n]. "A royal banquet. Hundreds of nobles. Foreign delegates. The Fire Lord and the Avatar they want to kidnap. The Chief Strategist and the other targets they want to kill. A celebration that's basically being held to extend the royal line." A grimace crossed her face. "If they wanted attention, that's about as perfect a target as they could ask for." The room fell quiet again. Unfortunately, she was right. [Y/n] let out a slow breath and nodded. 

"Exactly." The single word carried far more weight than he intended. "That's what worries me." Because a banquet wasn't just a gathering. It was a symbol. And from everything they'd learned so far, the Burning Eye seemed to love symbols.

The room fell quiet again.

[Y/n] found himself glancing toward the window once more, gazing out at the beautiful normalcy in the distance. Outside the office windows, the capital continued moving as normal. Ships drifted through the harbour. Citizens crossed the streets. Messengers hurried between buildings. 

Most people had no idea a mountain had exploded.

Most people had no idea a secret extremist organisation existed.

And if [Y/n] and Zuko did their jobs correctly...

Most people would never need to know.

For a long moment, neither [Y/n] nor Zuko spoke. Their gazes drifted toward the reports spread across the desk, specifically the growing collection of documents related to the banquet. Security plans. Guest lists. Seating arrangements. Preliminary schedules. On paper, it looked like any other major royal event. 

In reality, both of them could see the disaster waiting beneath the surface. Hundreds of nobles trying to gain influence. Council members pushing for an heir. Foreign delegates requiring protection. The Burning Eye potentially viewing the entire gathering as the perfect stage for another attack. 

The longer they stared at the paperwork, the more problems seemed to appear. Across the room, Ty Lee and Mai exchanged a look. It was the same look people shared when watching someone spiral into increasingly unhelpful thoughts. Finally, Ty Lee pointed at both of them. 

"Stop that." Neither man looked up. 

"Stop what?" Zuko asked. 

"Whatever this is." Mai closed her book with a soft snap. "The staring." That finally earned their attention. The teacher gestured vaguely between the two of them. "You've only got about twenty more minutes before the Grand Chamberlain comes storming back in here." Ty Lee nodded solemnly. 

"And kidnaps Zuko." 

"That's not what he's doing." 

"He literally follows you around like a mother hen." Ty Lee pointed toward the door. "The moment those thirty minutes are up, he's going to burst through that entrance, throw you over his shoulder, and drag you back to work." That was somehow worse. Even Zuko couldn't argue with it. The Fire Lord let out another sigh while Ty Lee grinned triumphantly. For the first time in several minutes, neither he nor [Y/n] were looking at the banquet reports anymore, which was probably the point.

A few more minutes passed before Ty Lee suddenly sat upright. The movement alone was enough to make [Y/n] suspicious. Years of experience had taught him that particular expression never led anywhere good. Unfortunately, by the time he noticed it, it was already too late. 

"You know..." She began casually. "I think I figured out the real reason Zuko hates the banquet." The Fire Lord immediately looked wary. [Y/n] looked even more concerned. 

"What reason?" Zuko asked while Ty Lee's grin widened. 

"Maybe it's because you two had so much fun at the summit." The reaction was immediate. Both men froze. Completely. Across the room, Mai lowered her book just enough to watch the disaster unfold. [Y/n] slowly closed his eyes. Then sighed. 

"I'm going to kill Suki." He pinched the bridge of his nose while quietly wondering if Kyoshi Warrior armour could withstand a point-blank lightning blast. Ty Lee immediately burst out laughing. 

"You know exactly what I'm talking about!" 

"Of course I know what you're talking about." The strategist pointed accusingly toward the ceiling. "Because Suki clearly told you." His gaze shifted toward Mai. The small smile on her face confirmed everything. "She told you too." Mai didn't even bother denying it. 

"Nothing happened." Zuko rubbed a hand down his face as it grew increasingly red. The response came with the exhausted patience of a man who had already had this conversation far too many times. Ty Lee looked unconvinced. Mai looked interested. Neither of those reactions helped. "Nothing happened." Zuko repeated. "We fell asleep talking." 

"And?" Ty Lee prompted. 

"[Y/n] slept on the floor." The room fell silent. Ty Lee stared. Mai stared. Then both women slowly looked toward [Y/n]. The strategist looked offended on principle. 

"There was one bed." 

"And?" Ty Lee asked. 

"And it was Zuko's bed." 

"You two shared a bed as kids when you had sleepovers." 

"Yeah, as kids. Not as grown men." [Y/n] shot back as his face erupted in a blush at the implication. Meanwhile, Zuko nodded, rapidly gesturing between the two of them for emphasis. Ty Lee looked personally betrayed by the fact the story didn't play out how she'd hoped. Across from her, Mai studied Zuko for a moment before casually speaking up. 

"Is that the real reason we broke up?" The office fell silent. Zuko stared at her. Ty Lee immediately looked delighted. [Y/n] decided he wanted no part of this conversation and reached for another report. Her tone would have sounded flat and uninterested to anyone else but, to the three of them, that was basically Mai's equivalent of wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"You dumped me." Zuko replied. The response came instantly. 

"That's not the point." 

"It is entirely the point." Zuko pointed at her. "You dumped me. Not the other way around." 

"You were difficult to date." She shot back flatly, turning to the next page of her book.

"And then you started dating Kei Lo." Zuko replied, looking extremely offended. Not offended by being dumped, offended by the fact that his replacement, at least for a while, had been Kei Lo. Mai didn't have an immediate response for that one, clearly a little humiliated herself for that particular choice of partner. "He was such a loser." 

"Oh, give it a rest." 

"I heard about him from Suki." The whole group turned toward [Y/n], who slowly looked up from his report to meet Mai's eyes. "Dear Angi, woman, have some self-respect next time." He barely managed to dodge the knife that Mai pulled out from Agni-only-knows-where and flung at his head. Ty Lee finally lost whatever composure she had left and dissolved into laughter while Mai and Zuko glared at each other across the room.

Eventually, the argument about Kei Lo gave way to another argument, which somehow became a story from Ty Lee, which somehow became Mai complaining about one of her students, which somehow turned into Zuko defending himself against accusations that he worked too much while [Y/n] pointed out that the Fire Lord had spent the last ten minutes face-down on a desk. It was chaotic. It was completely unproductive. And it was probably the most relaxed [Y/n] had felt since returning from the Southern Water Tribe. 

For a little while, the reports stopped feeling quite so overwhelming. The banquet stopped looming over the horizon. The Burning Eye stopped occupying every corner of his thoughts. Instead, there was just this: old friends sitting together in his office, arguing about nonsense and making each other laugh like they had done a hundred times before. The familiarity of it settled warmly in his chest, carrying with it a faint sense of nostalgia for simpler days. So rather than worry about everything waiting outside the room, [Y/n] simply leaned back in his chair and allowed himself to enjoy it while it lasted. 

After all, they probably only had another ten minutes before the Grand Chamberlain returned to drag Zuko back to work and reality came crashing through the door again.

~*~

Taglist: @defronix @1nsan3ab0utmarv3ll @isitthemoon @technicallyasoul @strangeprincessblog @eliathblog @belladonna6-6-6 @petrinholas @professorwaid420

[somniath-v]

lohen

gender-neutral reader. no use of y/n. lohen and his undefined issues cameo. reader has some bunny-like behaviors. kisses. fluff. mild angst because lohen's in his head. wc~1.3k

[or read here on ao3!]

Admittedly, Lohen’s nickname for you is ‘bunny.’ They’re cute animals, he likes them, and he likes you. It works out perfectly in his mind. What he didn’t expect was for you to live up to the name. That doesn’t mean he’s complaining though.

His hands settle on your waist as the familiar flurry of your attention comes crashing into him. It took a little getting used to, having to train himself to not tense up each time you pushed into his space and got way too close to his throat. 

He smiles faintly at the feeling of you nosing along his jaw and cheeks. You rub your face against his affectionately, smushing your cheeks together for a moment. Lohen returns the gesture and leans into your touch. Your skin is warm, excitement practically dripping off of you with each nuzzle. 

You bump your noses together, shaking your head slightly to continue the onslaught of what Lohen dubs as ‘bunny kisses.’ He can’t help but laugh at you. It’s not malicious, nothing like that! You’re just adorable. The breathless noise bubbles up his throat, spilling into the space between the two of you. 

“Hi bunny,” he rubs his nose back against yours. Your hands excitedly flit over his shoulders, sending sparks under his skin with each point of contact. “Did something good happen?” 

“Not really,” you say against his cheek. “I’m happy to see you.” 

Ah, doesn’t that do something to his heart? He can’t say he’s used to how blatant you are with your affection yet. Lohen thought you were confused when you admitted that you liked him in the first place. Sure, he really likes you, but it’s weird for someone to straight up say that they like him. Like, have you seen him? 

Lohen knows he is extraordinarily difficult to get along with on a good day. In fact, he takes great pride in that. Keeping people at arms length is perfect for him, and it’s all the better if he can goad them into trying to punch him square in the face. You, however, were very insistent on changing that bit by bit.

“You can’t go telling a man that,” Lohen pats your hip. “You’ll make my ego bigger.” 

He feels you huff against the side of his face. Lohen’s smile widens. 

“I don’t think it’s possible to make your ego bigger,” you tell him plainly and finally pull away from him. The lack of proximity is something that Lohen immediately misses. Which is silly, because you’re standing right in front of him and spend the better part of your moments together touching him. 

Lohen feels the smile playing on his lips as he takes you in. Your eyes are bright and locked onto him even despite your frequent fussing over him. He dutifully ignores the weird way his stomach knots in on itself. 

“Are you free tomorrow?” you ask suddenly, changing the topic entirely. He blinks once. Okay, they’re changing the conversation. Which is fine! Peachy! He doesn’t let the surprise linger on his face. 

“Maybe, maybe, why? Have something planned? I’ll have you know I’m very busy fighting hilichurls,” Lohen teases. He brings one hand up to tap you on the nose. Your offended expression is one of his favorites. As he hoped, you deliver. Your face scrunches up, lips shifting down into a pout. 

He wants nothing more than to kiss it off your face. Or, the much more exciting alternative, he irritates you so much that you start swatting at him and he can enjoy the feeling of your hands on him while you rough him up. For all of his begging, you still won’t swing on him properly. But babysteps! Lohen can be perfectly happy with this. 

Lohen watches as you exhale once, your nose wrinkling. “I want to go to Cider Lake with you,” you tell him. 

He lights up instantly. “Yeah? Well, I guess I can clear my schedule for you.” Not to mention the latest monster encampment Mika marked off near the lake! He can’t go dragging you into the fray, no, no, that wouldn’t do, you’re a civilian and Lohen takes his duty as a knight very seriously! Most of the time. Okay, he mentally amends, he takes his duty of keeping an eye on you very seriously. 

“Really?” and just like that, your mood has brightened and you’ve gone back to squishing your faces together. 

Lohen hums in response. It’s hard to say no to you for very long. He feels your hands resume their patting over his shoulders and chest. He, quite frankly, has no idea why you’re so touchy. It’s as if you can’t keep your hands to yourself the moment he comes into your vicinity. Again, you remind him of an over excited rabbit. If you had scent glands, he’s certain you would have already drenched him with it. 

He lets you fuss with his shirt and brush your hands over his shoulders over and over. Lohen doesn’t know what you could be fixing on him past the first or second time you started adjusting him, but he likes the expression on your face and the attention. He feels warm as your fingers skate across his collar for the umpteenth time in five minutes. If he didn’t know any better, he would think you were trying to undress him. 

But no, you just want to touch him while you talk. He wasn’t lying when he said it makes him feel very smug. Lohen has someone so pretty wanting his attention! What’s not to like? He doesn’t feel entirely like he deserves it, but he isn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth and ruin it early. 

Lohen hums again as you bring your faces back together to press your nose to his. His smile is unwitting, growing wider with each bump of your nose against his. You’re so sweet and he feels dizzy with the extent of how much he wants you. 

You hum faintly and hold onto his shoulders. Lohen shifts his stance to make it easier for you to press against him how you’d like. The fussing goes on for a few moments more before Lohen decides to cup your face between his hands and reciprocate your gestures properly. 

He nudges your noses together, enjoying the way you laugh and return the nuzzling more enthusiastically. Lohen can feel the warmth of you slowly melting the cryo chill that permanently imbeds itself into his skin. He thinks he could get used to this. He hopes he gets to stay used to this. 

Lohen captures your lips with his own, breaking the play kisses with something real. He wants to swallow you whole. He drinks up the breathless laughter that tumbles into his mouth as you begin to kiss him back. You don’t let him kiss you how he wants for very long. You press your lips to his in a flurry of short and sweet kisses that leave both of you reeling. 

Your hands come up to grip the front of his shirt like you can’t bear the thought of letting him go. Lohen feels the same. He doesn’t want to pull away from you even for much needed air. The strain on his lungs feels nice. 

His chest hurts by the time you wriggle your face free from his touch so that you can press your cheeks together yet again. Lohen’s face squishes against yours. Yeah, you’re like a territorial bunny. He slides a hand down your neck to gently grip the nape of your neck and keep you close to him. 

Lohen wants to tease you for how you’re acting, but the words die on his tongue at the soft press of your nose against his face. He swallows. He really wants to get used to this. 

[eepylohen]

I’m just wondering…going back w/ the dad! Lohen AU, how Lohen and his spouse will react and/or response if their child asks them where babies come from…👀

i—

uh. so. since lohen is fucking annoying i can imagine it could went like this.

kid: where do babies come from?

reader: uhh... when two people love each other very much—

lohen: ... then sometimes they get careless

reader, whispering through gritted teeth: lohen you cannot fucking say that

lohen: alright

lohen: you came from me, baby

reader: what???? you cannot just say "me" either!!!!!!

lohen: but i was involved

reader: half involved

lohen: the more enthusiastic half

... but jokes aside, it honestly depends on the kid's age. i really think the conversation could go the way i wrote above when they're little, but once they're older, i don't think lohen or reader would freak out. they'd just explain how it all works and how to make sure to stay safe.

since, in my AU, their child is an "oops baby" (btw, is that the right phrase? 😭 in my language we have a specific word for an unplanned child, but i don't think i've ever heard an equivalent in english...), a conversation like that can be a little delicate, so it's important to word it well.

i do think lohen would tell his child they were unplanned once they're old enough to understand, lol. but then he'd immediately follow it up with something like:

"i know every parent says stuff like this, but i have to say it too and it's not a lie. you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and i don't regret a single thing"

"why?"

"because your existence tied your mom/dad to me forever, ha! i mean, even if they dumped me before you came along, i'd have hunted them down anyway... but you definitely made it a lot easier"

"oh my fucking god, dad"

"what? i just said you're my pride and joy! isn't that what matters?"

kill me please

[kitorin]

duty and love.

in which, you're stuck between your daughter and husband's argument, and the only bridge between your daughter's emotions and lohen's paranoia is you.

contents. lohen x gn!reader, dad!lohen, bad parenting (possibly physical abuse? like forced training), angst, happy ending, lohen story quest spoilers, descriptions/mentions of child trafficking/kidnapping + abuse, trauma, reader hinted to have neglectful/abusive parents, lohen kind of immature, daughter is unnamed (you can name her however you want !!), no beta i lowkey pulled whatever out my arse

Your daughter and husband refuse to talk to each other.

Only you received greetings whenever Lohen left or arrived home; your daughter went as far as avoiding the front door like the plague. Dinner times were draped in thick silence with Lohen's gaze fixated on his daughter, while hers avoided his at all costs. Cutlery spoke more than they did.

Today, she finally felt like talking again, just not to him. "How was your day?" She said to you, with stew on her face.

You wiped it off with a serviette, relieved she was comfortable enough to speak again. "It was nice. What about you, darling?"

She mumbled her gratitude before excitement gushed out her words. "I went to Millhaven! They have so many pretty flowers. I made a flower crown, can I show you after dinner?"

"Of course!" You beamed back, enamoured by her wonder. "I'd love to see it."

She resumed lapping up her stew, bringing the bowl to her mouth.

"Millhaven?" Lohen asked, the first time he uttered a word at dinner for a while. "You were in Millhaven?"

Something was off about his tone.

Your daughter was undeterred by this, or simply did not care. "Yeah? So what."

Lohen scoffed, tossing his spoon on the table. "Who were you with?"

"By myself."

"And you didn't think to tell either of us?"

Now, your daughter was alarmed, her eyes were wide with fear, and she clenched onto her spoon. "'m a big girl now."

"You're six. And why are you being so calm?" He snapped at you, standing up and toppling his chair over, the hands trembling from the sheer force. "God, this is so—"

Your daughter did the same, pushing off her chair to run to you. "Stop being mean."

Lohen retaliated before you could intervene. "First you slack off on training and now you run off wherever. What a daughter you are."

With a final scoff, he walked away, ignoring the chair on the floor and his unfinished dinner.

The venomous words left her crying, and she bolted away to her room.

Your heart sank, as you cleaned up the mess and worried endlessly about her, and their relationship.

It all started a few days ago, a few weeks after your daughter's sixth birthday.

Lohen had immediately organised a training plan for her, an immaculate system for learning combat skills. It was toned down for her age, yet accounted for pretty much every possible survival scenario.

But of course, no kid wants to train martial arts, maybe learn a little bit, try out a move or two, but it's not fun when the Vice Captain of the Fifth Company himself aims to make you invincible. It only took a few days for her to argue back, and never attend his training again, with you as her approval.

As you gave her time to calm down, you picked out some apples from the fruit basket, the ripest ones, before cutting them up.

Her door creaked open, with the apple slices in your hand as an offering. "Are you alright...?"

She was curled up in bed, cuddling a bunny plushie, one that Lohen himself won at a Windblume event. Her whimpering bled through despite burying her face, until she peeled it away to look at you.

Her eyes were throbbing with pink, the tip of her nose matching. She pounced on the apple slices after you offered them, munching away contently.

You sat there waiting, giving her reign of the conversation.

After downing an apple, she mumbled while chewing. "Why is daddy being so mean to me? Training isn't even fun. Everything hurts and playing dolls with him is better."

You sighed, wiping away a trickle of juice from the corner of her mouth. "Dunno. 'll figure it out for you soon, okay?"

She clung onto your shirt, snuggling closer. "You need to fix him. I miss when he was nice to me."

"I will. I promise." You fingers ran through her hair and drifted downwards to stroke her back. "I'll sort this out f'you, alright? You can take all the time you need before you talk to him again."

You left the apples on her bedside table, before checking up on her one last time, and heading for your shared bedroom with Lohen.

(There was an inkling as to why Lohen was behaving this way. You let it wait at the back of your mind before jumping to conclusions.)

The door pushed open, and you didn't bother knocking. Much like your daughter, Lohen was in bed too, only sprawled out like a starfish.

No words were exchanged, as you walked to the bed and sat on your side. He shuffled over, before rolling on his side, away from you.

"What's going on with you? First training and now this."

Lohen didn't respond.

"You can't force her to do things she doesn't want to do. You out of all people know that."

His childhood was composed of demands and expectations, without a sliver of freedom. Commands to pray every morning and a life long order to inherit a family business he did not care for. Lohen hated being controlled, and any attempts to do so.

He still didn't respond, grunting half heartedly.

You didn't want to resort to this. Though it was true, it was far too personal of a truth to weaponise.

Nausea bubbled in your stomach, and you knew the aftermath of your words wouldn't be pretty. "You're acting just like your parents."

It hit him hard. Lohen shot up straight and turned to you, hollow eyes livid, hurt, and scared, all at once.

"That's different—you know that's different."

"Lohen. It's not. You can't contr—"

"Fucking hell, what else do you want me to do? You want your own kid to be defenceless?"

You flinched. He's never raised his voice this much. Regret, fear, inadequacy harrassed you all at once, leaving you unable to find anything right to say.

Off the bed you went, until his hand clasped over your wrist, pulling you back in.

"Fuck–'m sorry. I didn't, I didn't mean to. Something's wrong with me, I–I can't." The angry man from before was nowhere to be seen. Lohen whimpered, apologies deteriorating into incoherency. "L–listen, you have to listen to me—"

Worried and willing, you climbed back into bed, holding him close as he explained his side of the story.

"She needs this, okay? She'll appreciate it in the future. Y–you will too—help me convince her, 'll make the training a bit easier for her, then I can make it harder over time."

Emotion, and every irrational part of you wanted to agree, hug him even tighter and comfort him until he was back to normal again. But you knew you couldn't do that. Not for the sake of your daughter. "Lohen. I can't do that. You need to accept that she doesn't want to learn how to fight."

Silence seized your bedroom, and under your palms you could feel Lohen tremble, ever so slightly. Your heart beat wildly, stressed at his current state.

"Peroneal nerve."

"Pardon...?"

He didn't cry, but his eyes tethered on tears, frantically blinking. "It paralyses the limb. The Fatui, they liked pressing onto it and watching us freak out. A–and threatened to cut out our vocal cords so we'd stop crying."

Your mouth went dry. You knew about his past and the experiments, but he's never explained it in this depth.

Lohen choked on memory and sorrow. "I don't want my baby to go through that. I survived it once, I can't do it again."

You gulped, rubbing his back as he caught his breath. "It's okay now, everything's okay. She's safe. No one's coming after her." You waited, the muffled clock in the living room ticking away.

His heartbeat began to calm down, thumping gently against his chest. You murmured. "I want her to be safe too, but I want her to be happy too."

"Is she mad at me...?" He whispered.

"Not exactly. She just misses how you were before. And wants you to be nice again."

He ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm the worst..."

"You will be. If you don't apologise."

Lohen grasped the roots of his hair. "I know—I know I'm acting like my parents but this is for her sake."

"I'm pretty sure they thought the same." You stared at the roof instead of him. "Different type of safety. They probably wanted you to inherit the family business for your stability. And because it's been instilled into them to pass it on."

Lohen groaned, unable to argue.

"I still think your parents love you a lot. They just weren't good at being parents."

It's a common phenomenon. A parent loving their child comes as naturally as breathing. But parenthood took more than love, it demanded immense amounts of empathy, maturity and intelligence. It wasn't something emotion only could compensate for.

Love alone could exist, it couldn't be felt without understanding and care.

It was a grand question that floated around in your head before you started a family together. You heard of parents that adored their children, who couldn't reciprocate, both from friends and personal experience. There was a looming fear of hurting your child, whilst making them grow up in a house that didn't believe in tears or refusal.

Lohen finally spoke again. "Who knows. Don't care. I want to make sure she feels loved though. I'll apologise. And I won't make her train."

Relief hugged you, warm and tight. "That's good. Wanna go now?"

He nodded, though he still seemed lost. "How do parents even apologise? Mine never did." He mumbled, as you walked through the kitchen to your daughter's room.

You shrugged. "Treat it like a normal apology."

With a deep breath, you knocked on the door.

"Can we come in? Daddy wants to speak to you."

You waited patiently, until it creaked open. With an arm wrapped around her bunny, your daughter peaked through it.

"Do you want to talk now? Or later?"

She shook her head. "Now please." You stepped out the way of Lohen.

He gulped. "I'm really sorry. I won't make you train anymore. Never. Let's go back to normal. I want to."

She beamed. "Really?" She turned to you, as if she needed someone else to confirm the truth.

You nodded. "Daddy just got scared you wouldn't be able to fight off any bad guys if you met them. That's why he wanted you to be strong as soon as possible."

Your daughter blinked. "But why would I need that?"

You glanced at Lohen, who took a deep breath to compose himself. Before he could explain why, your daughter piped up.

"Daddy's strong, he can do it for me! He'll always protect me, right? Even boars don't scare him."

Lohen didn't move. His eyes widened, and you swear he stopped breathing.

"Right?" She clinged on his legs and looked up at him. "You'll protect me forever!"

"O–Of course." She held up her arms to get carried, squealing as Lohen picked her up. "Always."

It's been a while since you've seen her this happy.

She pressed a loud kiss on his cheek and squeezed her bunny. "I love you!"

Lohen held her tighter. "I love you too. Do you wanna go to the cake store? It'll be my treat."

"Even though it's night time?"

Right. Going out late was rare in your household. Even when you were all together, Lohen was constantly stressed and on watch. He refused to admit it, but you knew better.

But he nodded. "Even though it's night time. Go put your shoes on."

He placed her down and she raced to the front door. You swear you saw a tear.

"You're allowed to cry."

"Shut up. 'm not."

You sighed, affectionately, watching him curl up into a ball. Your daughter passed out cold, after downing a chocolate pastry and having a sugar crash. The entire time, she clung onto Lohen, rambling about how much she missed him.

"You see why she has no sense of danger? Nothing scares her because her daddy's always there."

"That's stupid." Lohen mumbled, with no hostility. "What's she going to do when I'm too old for fighting?"

You inched closer to wrap an arm around him, it snaked around his waist and pulled him closer. "She'll be an adult by then. And she can learn how to fight however she wants. Whatever martial art she picks, I'm sure you'll help her."

He scoffed. "'Course I will. 'm her father."

"Good." You murmured into his neck, pressing a kiss there and watching him squirm.

"'m sorry for being so difficult."

"You're not."

"I am. Being a dad is way harder than I thought."

You shrugged. "I think you're doing alright."

He scoffed. "I made my daughter cry. And I yelled at her. I feel like shit." He grabbed a spare pillow and buried his face.

"Awww, c'mon, you're still doing great." You pried the pillow away and he wrestled for it. "I'm happy you had that argument."

Lohen whipped around. "You drunk?"

You shook your head. "I'm happy she felt safe enough to speak out. Neither of us would've had our parents listen to us like you did." His gaze softened, and his scepticism faded away. "I know you feel bad, but isn't it a relief she was comfortable enough to say no?"

He sighed. "I guess that's true."

"So stop beating yourself up already. You apologised, she forgave you, and you've learnt. You've done everything most people don't." You pressed another kiss, this time on his head. "You're a great father, Lohen. Far better than your own.'

The praise inflated his ego and he pulled his blanket up. "Low standard, but whatever."

"Just take the compliment." You smacked him gently. "I'm gonna sleep now, alright?"

Lohen nodded, kissing you on the shoulder. "Me too. Good night."

"Sleep well."

Though you heard a sniffle or two, you kept to yourself for his sake, remaining still and quiet.

The one of the reknowned bowmakers of Dornman Port stared at Lohen.

He stared back, the script he had drafted in his head nowhere to be seen, replaced by only unease and clammy palms. Unsure of what else to do, he walked up the hill to where they stood, and greeted them as normally as he could.

"Hello, Father."

He froze, dropping the watering can.

Lohen took a deep breath.

"I have a daughter now."

The man gasped.

"And I'm starting to understand why you guys behave the way you do. I don't think it was right, and I quite frankly don't forgive you." It was petty, but Lohen didn't care. He hated the monotony he was forced into, the daily ritualistic praying, and the predetermined destiny laid out for him. All became worse after his kidnapping.

You understood him fine, and so did Adorno. He doesn't think it's out of the picture to expect his parents to do the same.

"But. I'd want you two to be apart of her life—my daughter's."

He's not sure why he wanted to do this. His daughter only asked once about his parents, and never asked again after he spewed out an improvised lie about them.

Maybe deep down, he hoped his parents would've learnt from him. Or he craved for his parents to finally change. Perhaps he wished for his father to regret his pacifist ways? Whatever it was, it was strong enough to drag him all the way to their place

The man said nothing. Lohen wondered if that was his queue to go home.

But it wasn't, the man picked up the watering can and put it aside, beckoning Lohen to come closer.

"...you'll have some tea with your parents, won't you?" He said, his voice far more wizened than Lohen remembered. "We owe you an apology."

Lohen hesistated, but nodded soon after, as he followed his father.

© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate

[followmybones]

being sanji's first boyfriend

2nd POV (you pronouns) | male reader

a/n: been pretty enamored with the idea of being Sanji's first official boyfriend so have this; fair warning this is a bit old and i only did a brief reread for errors lmk if you catch any i didn't see

CW: brief mentions of reader/you drinking

It's an interesting position to be in. Sanji has always been a wonderful lover, kind and considerate, always doing a little extra just for you, but since you met him you had always assumed he knew he liked guys, just not you. It was surprising when he had confessed that you were the first guy he really thought about in a romantic way, or at least that he could recall and identify as such because you had always felt like he was a little flirty with other guys before. It often felt even more surprising that you were his first real relationship. The way he seems so open and proud of his feelings even if it’s simply being so unashamed to look at you so tenderly or the soft smiles he sends your way as he's cooking. It feels wrong to know such a lover boy hasn't received the same care and love he gives out so freely. It's a learning curve for the both of you for sure. Regardless of your relationship experience. If you have relationship experience Sanji feels pressured to measure up to your past experiences. He tends to try to move the relationship too fast and further than he's comfortable with. It’s a battle to slow him down and affirm that you want him to be just as happy and comfortable in the relationship as you are. He eventually levels out but before there's a period of time it practically feels like the two of you have weekly meetings about your relationship to ensure the both of you are feeling like your needs are being met and that you're both still happy and enthusiastic about being together. And maybe that's what makes you happy but if not he slowly gets comfortable without that time and he finds himself coming to you when he has concerns or needs, even for the simplest comfort hug on a particularly frustrating day. If you have little or no relationship experience Sanji feels a lot of pressure to be perfect and not scar you for life with a bad relationship. He knows the both of you are literally in the same boat physically and metaphorically since your relationship together will be formative regardless of how good or bad it is. He feels the needs to go above and beyond with his gestures and dates, because he needs to make sure he doesn't ruin relationships forever for you. And if you try doing the same for him, he'll only feel guilty for making you feel like you have to do so much for him. It probably leads the two of you into an argument or misunderstanding that eventually leads Sanji to start hosting what feels like weekly meetings on your relationship to ensure the both of you are feeling like your needs are being met and that you're both focusing on the relationship together rather than focusing on each other. He'd be happy to continue such a thing if you enjoyed it, but otherwise he's happy to bring such a thing up as they come. It's all truly so enduring though;

Sanji is the type of guy who is smooth and charming with any girl, but flusters immediately when you start flirting with him, his face and ears turn red, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he struggles to get any words out, the way his pretty eyes look anywhere that isn't you, and when you really fluster him he lets out a whimper, a truly pathetic noise, the kind that makes you want to tease him more.

Even when you've been together for a while, he's flusters just the same when you're physically affectionate. Early on it's mortifying to him that he can't hold your hand without blushing a little, or fully blushing when you kiss, and when you get a little breathless after a particularly long or steamy kiss he wishes the sea would open up and eat him when his nose starts bleeding. but as your relationship goes on his reactions because a minimal flush and the sweetest smile he reserves especially for you.

GOD the nosebleeds, Sanji is embarrassed to admit the amount of kitchen towels he's had to surrender to his nose bleeds, and he doesnt want to admit when he had to use them. That one time you come into the kitchen for a quick snack in your bathing suit, or the times you've beat Zoro in one of his stupid drinking games and you gave Zoro a stupid cocky little smirk, or the time you greeted Sanji while calling him pretty boy, still breathless from a workout. He knows without a doubt the rest of the crew, you included, have caught on to the nosebleeds but he's very grateful that no one has yet to bring it up.

And he's so very soft in your arms, especially when the two of you manage to lay in an actual bed together and not a hammock on the ship. It’s funny how different he is as you cuddle together compared to the stiff board he was the first few times you two cuddled. You practically had to pry his arm from his side to show him how to hold you. After the initial nervousness Sanji found himself in a flustered frenzy until you managed to melt him into a state of cozy. Sanji is def a small spoon enjoyer btw, doesn't matter your height, hold him in your arms and kiss his shoulders, and don't let him fool you, he likes it, it just feels embarrassing the first few times because it's new to him.

And for a man who would naturally use so many gender neutral terms of endearments like my love, light of my life, darling, etc. Sanji struggles to find a pet name for you for so long. Instead of picking his favorite Sanji works to see which names give him the best reaction, as easy as it is to fluster him, he likes to return the favor even if he has to work for it.

It takes a while for Sanji to simmer into the relationship and a little longer to really deconstruct some of the internal discomfort and worries about being in a gay relationship but at some point he had an epiphany about how being happy with you, for as long as you'd have him, was worth so much more than anything his brain or anyone else could say or do to him over it.

[raidenssblog]

a curses heart

Pairing - Choso x gothic male reader you find yourself falling for a blood manipulation curse without realizing it.

The first thing Choso noticed about you wasn't the black clothing or the silver jewelry that decorated your ears and fingers. It wasn't the dark eyeliner that made your tired eyes seem permanently shadowed, nor the combat boots that echoed against the empty streets with measured confidence. It was the fact that you looked at him without flinching.

Most sorcerers reacted with disgust the moment they recognized what he was. Some drew their weapons before exchanging so much as a word. Others masked their fear with arrogance, convincing themselves that a curse could never be anything more than something to exorcise. You, however, simply stood across from him in the middle of the abandoned shopping district, twirling your cursed weapon absentmindedly while the evening wind tugged at the hem of your long black coat.

"So," you finally said, your voice calm enough that it almost sounded bored, "you're Choso."

His crimson eyes narrowed. "You know my name."

"I make it a habit to learn about the people I'm hunting."

His brow furrowed slightly at your wording. "People?"

A crooked smile appeared on your lips. "Well... everyone else insists you're a curse." You tilted your head, studying him with genuine curiosity rather than hatred. "I wanted to decide for myself."

The silence that followed caught him off guard. He had expected insults. Threats. A battle that would leave one of you dead. Instead, he found himself staring at a sorcerer who seemed more interested in understanding him than killing him.

Unfortunately, duty was still duty.

Without another word, Choso attacked.

Blood erupted from his arms in razor-sharp streams, slicing through the air with enough force to tear through concrete. You sprang backward, your coat flaring behind you as you narrowly avoided the first strike, boots skidding across wet asphalt. The fight that followed was relentless. Buildings cracked beneath the force of cursed energy, shattered glass rained from broken windows, and every attack carried enough power to end the battle instantly if either of you made a mistake.

Despite that, something felt... restrained.

Whenever Choso had a clear opening, he hesitated for the briefest fraction of a second.

Whenever you found an opportunity to drive your blade through his chest, your weapon somehow missed by inches.

Neither of you acknowledged it.

After nearly twenty exhausting minutes, both of you stood several meters apart, breathing heavily. Blood trickled from a cut above your eyebrow while bruises darkened your ribs beneath your shirt. Choso's sleeve had been torn nearly in half, revealing fresh wounds slowly closing under cursed energy.

"You fight strangely," he observed, wiping blood from beneath his nose with the back of his hand. His breathing was uneven, yet his gaze remained fixed on yours. "You've had at least four chances to kill me."

You rolled one shoulder, wincing as bruised muscles protested. "Funny," you replied, sliding your weapon back into its sheath, "I was about to say the same thing."

For the first time in years, Choso found himself without an answer.

Weeks passed before your paths crossed again.

Officially, you had been assigned to investigate reports of curse activity in another abandoned district on the outskirts of Tokyo. Unofficially, you already knew who was responsible.

You found him sitting atop the roof of a derelict apartment building, his legs hanging over the edge as he watched the city lights flicker to life below. The evening sky had turned deep shades of violet and black, making your own silhouette blend almost seamlessly with the growing darkness as you climbed onto the roof.

"You followed me," Choso said without looking back.

You walked over until you stood beside him, slipping your hands into the pockets of your coat. "No." A small grin tugged at the corner of your mouth. "I happened to receive a mission in the exact neighborhood where a certain Blood Manipulation user was hiding."

"...That's called following me."

"I prefer coincidence."

A faint sound escaped him, it took you several seconds to realize he had laughed. The noise was so quiet that it almost disappeared beneath the wind, but it was unmistakably a laugh. "There it is," you said with obvious satisfaction. Choso glanced at you in confusion. "What?"

"I was beginning to think you were physically incapable of smiling." you huffed out a breath, fog slightly escaped along with it.

"I can smile." you smiled, pushing his buttons a little more "I don't believe you."

"I can."

"Prove it."

His lips parted as though he intended to argue, only for him to realize he'd walked directly into your trap. A flicker of embarrassment crossed his expression before he looked away with the slightest hint of pink dusting the tips of his ears.

"...You're insufferable."

"There it is again."

"What?"

"The smile."

"I wasn't smiling."

"You absolutely were."

...

He sighed, rubbing a hand across his face as though you had somehow exhausted him in less than two minutes. "You're a very strange sorcerer."

"And you're surprisingly easy to embarrass."

"...I am not."

"You are."

"I've known you for approximately five minutes."

"And yet you're already blushing."

"I am not blushing."

You leaned closer, squinting dramatically as if inspecting him. "Interesting. Because your ears have turned red." Choso instinctively reached up to cover one ear before realizing exactly what he'd done. You burst into laughter, not cruel laughter, warm laughter. The kind that echoed across empty rooftops and somehow made the abandoned city feel just a little less lonely.

For reasons he couldn't explain, he didn't mind hearing it.

By the third meeting, neither of you bothered pretending it was an accident.

You arrived carrying a plastic convenience store bag filled with canned coffee and snacks, setting it down beside him on the rooftop without a word before sitting cross-legged against the crumbling wall.

Choso stared at the bag.

"...What's this?"

"Dinner."

He looked at you.

"You brought food?"

"I did."

"For me?"

You blinked. "Well... I wasn't planning on eating four sandwiches by myself."

"I don't need human food." you tilted your head to the side "You don't."

"..."

"But I figured you might want to try it."

His expression softened ever so slightly.

Slowly, almost cautiously, he reached into the bag and picked up one of the sandwiches as though expecting it to disappear. He studied the packaging with complete seriousness, carefully opening it before taking a tentative bite.

You tried very hard not to stare. "So?" you asked after several long moments. Choso chewed thoughtfully, swallowing before looking down at the sandwich in mild surprise. "...It's... good."

Your smile grew. "I know."

He took another bite, then another, each one a little less hesitant than the last. Watching him discover something as ordinary as convenience store food felt strangely intimate, and you found yourself smiling without realizing it.

After finishing half the sandwich, Choso glanced sideways and caught you looking.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"...You're smiling."

"I am."

"Why?"

You rested your chin on your hand, your expression softer than he'd ever seen it. "Because you look happy."

He froze....Happy....No one had ever described him that way before. His gaze drifted back to the half-eaten sandwich in his hands before quietly returning to you. "...I didn't realize I did."

"You do." For several seconds, neither of you spoke.

The silence wasn't uncomfortable. It simply settled around the two of you like the evening air, peaceful and unhurried. Without thinking, your shoulder leaned lightly against his.

Choso stiffened for only a heartbeat before, almost imperceptibly, allowing himself to relax against the contact instead of pulling away.

you both didn't comment on it fearing the break this odd but comforting moment.

[chaibbun]

nanami's m!worker collects ... pens?

haha this may or may not be based off of me who looooves collecting cute stationery items , i'm a huge muji enthusiast and j-stationery fan . i also love watching cute shows like aggretsuko & sanrio — i had the biggest sanrio phase in middle school ; my mel is da goat ><

if you're new to my works , pls check out my profile ! i promise you'll like it there <3

contains fluff and a little bit of longing . sorcerer!reader | awkward!nanami

"alright, three grade-two curse sightings in shibuya have been dealt with. let's hope for an efficient paperwork session—two hours at most—because as you are aware, i hate overtime." nanami states, placing a stack of papers on the desk in front of you. it was the report for one of the curses, meamwhile nanami had takean the other two. pragmatic, but always doing his best to quietly lessen the load for others.

when you joined jujutsu high as a bright-eyed, sixteen-year-old kid sorcerer, you thought jujutsu society would prioritize the safety of others and the exorcizing of curses more. so when principal yaga mentioned that sorcerers would have to do reports with each curse killed, you immediately (and metaphorically) dusted the information off your shoulder. you imagined reports as something quick, and mostly trivial. one, maybe two, pages of mindless formalities. maybe a list of checkboxes where'd you have to check off what kind of curse it was.

instead? it was way more complicated. a report for one, measly grade-four curse was five pages. at a minimum. there were 'sign here' prompts decorating each line of each report, and tons of extra words that you were convinced were there just to cushion that stacks that already flooded your desk after each mission.

nanami's quieted down, adjusted his sunglasses, and has already began to work on the first report in front of him. he reads each line carefully but not slowly, always adding meticulous attention, but never care to his work. in his hand, one simple, black, ballpoint pen, with the cap set on the back instead of the nib for easier writing, and so that he doesn't end up losing the cap. not that nanami's even capable of losing stuff, but precautions are always necessary—even when signing papers.

his delicate rhythm is almost immediately broken when he hears the clattering of items falling all across the floor.

"shit—my pens." you say, quickly getting on all fours to recover your pens. they're everywhere, and they're all pink. highlighters with the translucent window section, hello kitty patterned washy tape, milk and mocha themed cap-type pens, and miffy. miffy practically shows up at least once on every piece of stationery currently strewn across the floor.

nanami sighs in mild irritation, lifting his sunglasses and massaging his nose bridge. first, being careless enough to spill your supplies all across the floor. and second, cursing, which not only spoils the tranquil mood, but is also an inefficient way of expressing disdain.

"i'll help." he says calmly, crouching down with you, though not on all fours, and beginning to help you in your search. is that hello kitty he spies on that pen? and washy tape? for documents? huh.

in a momentary lapse of judgement (he tells himself), and a poor attempt to make conversation with the co-sorcerer he just now realizes he doesn't know too well (he's memorized all of your habits from afar), he speaks up. "those hello kitty?" he clears his throat. "pretty sure one of gojo's students enjoys those ... mascots." he remarks blandly, standing up and handing you the last of your hello kitty pens. you thank him politely. nanami glances at your desk, finding an array of even more pens and pencils. "you ... seem to have a lot of them."

you smile—a tug of lips meant to signify your glee. "yeah, well, it's more than just hello kitty. it's the whole cast of sanrio. it's rilakkuma and korilakkuma, and milk and mocha, and chiikawa and usagi!" you say, seemingly knowing a lot more about mascots than actual curses—especially for a male sorcerer who should be signing reports right now.

nanami looks down at you with a sort of worshipful reverence. he mentally notes your passion for cute little animated icons. as you go through each stationery item, explaining the character and the basic premise of the show. he has no idea why you would rather spend your time with fenneko instead of in a library—but to each their own, he guesses.

he pauses you as you get deeper into your explanation. "so you collect ... pens?"

"yes!" is the bright, unabashed response. "but ... most of them don't work too well."

"so ... nonfunctioning pens. you collect nonfunctioning pens because they have cute animals on them." ridiculous. nanami thinks, but it's cute—how the same composed, powerful sorcerer can get so giddy at the thought of a purple kuromi. he clears his throat again. "we need to get back to finishing our reports."

and so you do.

reporting the state of structural integrity following the curse confrontation, in a light blue, little twin stars pen. marking off the curse's grade in a pastel strawberry pen. estimating damages in a polka-dotted mechanical pencil. nanami's surpised you haven't pulled out invisible ink or watercolor yet.

he sees multi-color pens, erasable highlighters and notes each one down. from his desk, he wonders what kind of pens you don't have—so that maybe next time he sees you, he could give it to you as a gift.

[blueberrisdove-sideblog2]

Mydei always treats you like you're his princess—no matter where you are or who’s watching. To him, you're not just someone he loves; you're someone he cherishes, worships, and would go to war for without a second thought. Every time he looks at you, there’s this softness in his golden eyes that nobody else gets to see, like you're the only thing in the world that could ever matter. He opens doors for you, carries your things even when you insist you're strong enough, and always makes sure you’re warm, safe, and comfortable. You never have to ask twice—he’s already on it, already thinking two steps ahead, always treating you like the center of his world.

He watches you like you're made of stars and silk, like even the air should be gentle with you. Whenever you speak, he listens closely, even if you’re just rambling or talking about something silly. And if someone dares to laugh at you or treat you poorly, he doesn’t just get upset—he burns. That terrifying warrior everyone fears becomes your prince in blazing armor, glaring down anyone who even breathes wrong near you. But even with all that power, he’s gentle with you. Always. Like you're something sacred. Like he's scared to break you, even though he knows you're stronger than you look.

Every little thing he does screams devotion. He braids your hair with such care, smoothing the strands with his calloused fingers as if touching something precious. When you’re sad or overwhelmed, he doesn’t rush you to feel better. He just holds you close, pressing you against his bare chest, letting you hear the steady beat of his heart until you feel okay again. And when you’re happy? He lights up like the sun, proud of every smile you give him. He kisses your forehead like it’s a ritual, like he’s sealing a blessing into your skin. You don’t even have to ask him to love you—he just does, over and over, in a thousand quiet ways.

At night, he wraps you in his arms like a protective shield. His big frame curves around you. He murmurs soft things into your hair—how much he loves you, how you’ve changed his world, how he never knew what peace felt like until he had you in his arms. Sometimes he wakes you up just to make sure you're breathing, just to press his forehead against yours and whisper, “Mine. Always mine.” Even in his dreams, he’s holding onto you like he’s scared the world might try to take you away.

To Mydei, you're not just a lover or a partner. You're his entire reason for fighting, for breathing, for being. He sees the way the world looks at you and thinks they don’t even know how lucky they are to witness them. But he knows. And he’ll never take you for granted. In every kiss, every touch, every word, there’s a silent vow: You are my princess. And I will spend every day proving it.

[moonsaver]

Falling asleep on them (their shoulder, mostly)

Title is as it says lol. A small apology for not having neither the seraphim sunday out sooner nor the yan alphabet.

– contains; Sunday, Aventurine, Dr ratio and Boothill (separately) x gn!reader.

No reader warnings bc its just fluff with a hint of angst if you squint

Sunday

Pre AE sunday: it's rare for both of you to have quiet, private and intimate moments long enough for either of you to really relax, but when it happens, you must've also been dead tired the way you didn't even realise you were asleep until your head softly landed on his shoulder.

I imagine Sunday would like sitting on a sofa with you and just do his work silently beside you, sorting through his documents in quiet peace when it happens. When it does, his hands freeze for a moment, stopping mid-turn of a page when he feels the warmth of you on his shoulder.

He'd gently set his work aside for a moment and simply relish the feeling. He's too busy to really be there for the most part, but he's still nonetheless grateful youve always been there for him, and he feels guiltier the more he stares at your sleeping form. It's this mix of overwhelming love and guilt that eats at him – he wonders if he's really as good of a partner to you and if you would consider getting with someone else besides him that could possibly give you more–

-Aaand the thoughts stop, when your head slightly slumps more.

He sighs, and leans his head on yours aswell, finding and interlocking his fingers with yours. He settles to relish the moment.

AE Sunday: basically the same, except he doesn't overthink nor is he working. But rather, he's in one of the trio's rooms in the corner leaning on the destroyed pillow fort which was done so to make space for the Monopoly game they were playing. He smiles when it happens, closing his book and gently setting it aside, settling more into the pillows and gets cozier. He'll play a bit with your hair, press a kiss to your forehead, and whisper sweet nothings to you – he talks about visiting new worlds, his feelings so far, how he feels so lucky to experience all of this with you. He tries to cover your ears so you don't wake up from the boisterous energy from the trio playing a few ways away. Maybe they also join you two and make it an impromptu cuddle session turned into a joint napping session.

——

Aventurine

A bit shocked when it happens, and originally thinks you're not actually asleep when it does, teasing you a bit. But quickly shuts up when you don't respond like your usual bantering self, and tenses a bit at your silence. He leans over carefully to see your sleeping face – and only then does he really accept you're asleep.

He stays tense for a moment. The moment is a bit too dangerously vulnerable for him — rather, the amount of trust you'd have in someone to sleep on them, is something he's a bit overwhelmed by thinking of.

If you stay asleep long enough he'll eventually relax, and realise how tense he was for a while when his shoulders pain a bit from it. He'll just stay silent for a moment, his eyes would be distant and his thoughts would be incoherent, but eventually they all settle down into silence when your soft breathing grounds him to the presence.

He sighs, followed by a very soft chuckle, before he presses a small kiss to the crown of your forehead, and wraps an arm around your shoulder.

——

Boothill

If the smell of gunpowder and rust and blood doesn't deter you from sleeping on him, and neither does his hard body, then you're in good hands!

His arm would probably be lazily draped over you from behind the couch, while he taps a bit on his phone, trying to mute some of the annoying notifications from a bounty or something when he feels you shift. Only you don't move away – but rather move towards him.

He looks slightly up from his phone and to his side, realising you've fallen asleep. He carefully shifts a bit, pockets his phone, and adjusts your head so you're sleeping on the "softer" parts – like the scarf around his neck or his top, making sure you're not pressing up against any hard bodied, sharp parts on him. Maybe even takes his hat off and places it so that it blocks the light from your eyes.

After that's done, he smiles smugly, before picking up his phone again and switching to the camera.

If you've made it this far being asleep, I hope you can survive the flashbang of his phone as boothill curses his device to hell and back, forgotten to have switched off the flashlight.

——

Dr. Ratio

At first, he quirks an eyebrow when you lean your head on him, but it doesn't take long to figure out you've fallen asleep.

He's still– well, tries to stay annoyed. But he really can't. Something about you softens him so much he (almost but not really) hates it. He softly scoffs, before wrapping his arm around your shoulder and making sure your head is positioned properly, you won't drool on him, etc..

If you don't wake up to it, he'll talk to you a liiitle while you're asleep. It's just mundane things to him – what he's reading while you're asleep, what he plans to study next, an experiment or so he's interested in, etc.. all while his hand gently rubs up and down your arm to soothe you.

He's surprisingly comfortable to sleep on – if he doesn't have anywhere else to be. Even then, he's actually very gentle. He'd be huffy about it later, but it doesn't defeat the fact he picks you up carefully and places you somewhere safer to sleep and makes sure you're comfortable and safe before leaving.

Don't fall asleep while in the bath. He'll just wake you up and urge you to leave the instant he realises you're asleep.

——

[yestrday]

: ̗̀➛ MB, DIDN’T KNOW YOU WAS CHILL LIKE DAT. yan! sunday, childe, aventurine, tighnari, dr. ratio

sometimes you gotta pull out all the stops to make your darling never leave your side, no matter how extreme. you’re prepared for screaming, crying, and begging, but what you really don’t know is your lover is just chill like that ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

( despite it being hilarious, it’s still toxic; so… consensual toxic relationship?; yandere situation but portrayed as humorous... and i am a comedian. violence; blood; drugging; mentioned brainwashing; imprisonment )

CHILDE made it a habit to bring home something for you every day. Some days he’d bring you flowers, others he’d bring you glittering jewelry, and the best ones are when he brings home food from your favorite cafe. Finishing the last of your tasks, you stretch your arms and wonder what surprise he’ll bring home today. You wish he’d bring you some more of that croissant special the cafe was having this month. You were having a craving for it.

Tonight, however, he brings you something different. You stare at him, he stares back— he has that loving, devoted expression on his face (always something amiss, always a bit manic) as he gingerly holds your hand in his and presses a kiss to them. Every move is filled with affection and devotion, and you’re grateful for it, but that’s not what captures your attention. Tonight, he is covered in blood. Tonight, he has a sack dripping blood all over your welcome home mat. You crinkle your nose.

“Ajax,” you say flatly. “What is… all this?” You gesture to the blood on his cheek, to the bloody sack, to the stain on his button-down that you just ironed. He nuzzles into your palm, still grinning at you with his handsome bloodied face.

“My present,” he says simply like you’d understand. “This is my present for tonight. Didn’t you say that you wanted your deadbeat uncle gone? Now he won’t have to make such absurd demands from you. All that money for his gambling…” He kisses your palm, over and over again. “... Now we can focus on getting that dream vacation you always wanted.”

A silence passes. “You killed him?” is all you ask, to which he nods. He knows that you’ll take time to make amends for his actions— not everyone can agree to murder— but it’s just a lover’s quarrel. Once he navigates through that, it’ll be you and him buying tickets and planning romantic getaways to a continent overseas. What he doesn’t expect is a simple sigh, before ruffling his hair and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Thanks,” you say, pulling away to let him catch the softness in your eyes. “But seriously, the blood’s getting everywhere. We’re not getting that vacation if we have the police on us, okay?”

Childe stares at your back as you go off to the kitchen, sitting there in stunned silence before a wide smile breaks out on his face. You’ve always been so understanding, you! Now all he just needs to do is to clean up before dinner, and the both of you can get to that vacation planning sooner.

“Are you drugging my tea, TIGHNARI?” is the first thing you say after he comes back from the kitchen. He’s back with another pot of herbal tea and you’re waving your emptied cup at him. “You drugging my tea, herb boy?”

He scoffs, setting down the teapot on the table before you and snatching away your cup. “Is your thesis making you so sleep-deprived that you’re making absurd accusations?” He hands your outstretched arm the refilled teacup and watches you chug it all down in one go. For someone who thinks they’re being drugged, you sure emptied that one fast.

“Don’t lie to me,” you huff. “I’m in Amurta just like you. I know damn well that Sumeru rose tea isn’t enough to zonk me out for a whole day like I did yesterday. There’s something in this tea you’re pouring me, I just know it!” Tighnari eyes you as you jump up from the sofa and pour yourself another cup, enthusiastically downing it like the others. “Well, whatever, I don’t care. This is good shit, and if it gives me a reason to stop writing this thesis then I hope to Rukhadevatta that it puts me in a coma.”

The Valukan Shuna sighs before he grabs your wrist from tipping over the teapot again. “Don’t be absurd, I didn’t put enough to put you in a comatose state.” He rolls his eyes when you harrumph triumphantly. “But if you like it that much, then there’s really no need to hide it. Saves me the effort of pretending, I guess.”

You laugh at him. “You’re a sick bastard, ‘nari! Wonder what Cyno’s gonna say when General Mahamatra finds out that his best friend is drugging their sweet little junior.” 

“For your information, he suggested this, even if it was just a terrible joke.” He hands you some baked treats as he pulls away the tea set from you. “And excuse me, but I think what’s sicker is your addiction to this drug. You’re making me reevaluate my life decisions.”

Waking up groggy and disoriented is nothing new for you. You’ll wake up with a splitting headache and the tormented feeling of forgetting, spend the next hour brooding and agonizing over it, then get on with your day like normal. It’s a familiar pattern— unpleasant, but familiar. There’s really nothing else you could do about it but just… get used to it.

Until SUNDAY started saying some really shady shit.

You know that your boss is powerful; you’ve had the honor of witnessing his magnificent deeds in person. Being his favorite pawn, you’ve stood by his side as he used the power of the Harmony on his victims and forced them to get the outcome he and the Dreammaster wanted. So when he sat you down for breakfast and began prodding you about your headaches and problems, you were smart enough to connect the dots.

“... You’ve been influencing me with the Harmony, aren’t you, Mr. Sunday?” You calmly take a sip from your coffee and stare at the Halovian. You don’t sound unsure; rather, you state it as fact and are only looking to seek a final confirmation. He is caught off guard by the sudden accusation, but he merely chuckles and continues to gaze at you with those distant but adoring eyes.

“It’s not wise to start flinging around wild theories, dear,” he says, creating thinly veiled threats as he always does with that remarkably sharp tongue of his. “It could cause us some trouble down the road.”

You don’t say anything. You only stare down at the brown liquid and up back to Sunday, who resembles a marble sculpture against his office’s mosaiced window. You purse your lips. “I am your most devoted follower, boss, so I don’t think I’m mistaken.” You gaze into his golden eyes, ones that don’t reveal anything at all. “Although I don’t know why you’d hypnotize me, knowing that I’d do anything for you, I won’t question your actions. I am merely your humble servant.”

Sunday’s lithe fingers stroke your hair, before taking a strand on his palm and kissing it gently. “Anything, hm…?” He murmurs to himself, musing as he idly rubs the lock between his fingers. “Then what if I told you that I’m not doing it for any particular reason at all? All that pain you feel every day… is merely the consequence of my own selfishness. All because I want to see that blank gaze of yours turn into complete adoration and devotion, to see those lips praise me and kiss me all over. What would you say?”

He’s ready to snap his fingers and wipe your memories, but he’s also curious to see your reaction. You, his servant who proclaims their devotion but look at him as you would any other passerby. If you were a bit cuter he wouldn’t have to put you through so much, but…

“Ah, is that all?” A gentle smile spreads on your face, crinkled eyes staring at him with no scorn or disgust in them. “You could’ve just told me, boss. You know I’d do anything for you.”

AVENTURINE has always dreamed of covering you in jewels. It’s supposed to be an easy feat, as his job allows him to come across gems worth millions of credits that he once could only dream of. But he can’t just drape you in any finery, however. It needs to be the best of the best, and unfortunately, the best have always been coveted by the wealthy and corrupt.

Thankfully, Aventurine’s job also allows him to shoot a person point-blank should they not appeal to the IPC’s demands.

Right now, you’re holding a gem peerless in its lustrous green. It’s as big as the size of your palm, held by a chain of gold that you fear could not hold its weight. It’s as beautiful as the rest of the treasures Aventurine has gifted you before… but something seems off about it. You wipe away the gem’s mysterious smear that you’ve been eyeing for a while now and bring it up to your nose. That rusty smell could no doubt be…

“Aventurine?” You lightly call, still staring at the cracked red on your thumb. Your lover looks at you, bright-eyed and eagerly awaiting your praise. You smile at him and show him the evidence. “Which poor soul did you pry this off of?”

He hesitates, torn between playing it cool or telling you the atrocities he’s committed. But he knows you know, if your glinting eyes are anything to go by. So he goes with the third option: to plead his case at your knees.

“It looks sooo much better on you than them!” Pretty pink eyes look at you pleadingly, pulling all the stops to gain your sympathy as he kneels at your feet. “They were a horrid, horrid person! I tried to buy it, but they wouldn’t give in! Even when I showed them a picture of you, they’d still not admit that only you were the one worthy of wearing this! So I… I had to do what I could!”

“Oh, no need for the crocodile tears.” He preens when you stroke his golden hair, his face one of ecstasy as he melts into your touch. “This is a very pretty gem you’ve brought me indeed. But I think…” Your fingers clasp the golden chain around his neck, eyes turning up in appreciation when Aventurine’s stunned face gapes at the emerald hanging off him.

“Mm, yes, I think this looks much better on you than I, pup.”

DR. RATIO is a man of sheer focus and discipline— an academic who is strict on himself, on others, and most importantly, on his lover. He had come to terms with the fact that you might never be willing to accept his need to control each and every aspect of your life. You are human— hopelessly, infallibly human— born to make the same mistakes over and over again. You’ve never cared to learn, and so this is why Veritas must keep you and discipline you.

“By four in the morning, you must wake up and do your daily stretches. A sound mind needs a healthy body.”

“Yessir~”

“By six, we must prepare breakfast together. Tomorrow, we must partake in a meal of oats and berries. We only indulge responsibly.”

“Oookayyy ♡”

“You are not to step outside of this house at all. You are only permitted within the border… though I doubt you could get far with that chain around your ankle.”

“Of course ♡”

“And—” He sighs and stops, squinting at the stupid, dreamy look on your face. You stare up at him unashamedly, looking lovestruck like a fan meeting their idol for the first time. “I— You—” For once, the doctor is at a loss for words. “Is any of this getting into that skull of yours?”

 You sigh dreamily. “Yes~ Exercise at least four times a week, follow the meal plan that you write out every seventh day, only consume intellectual media, you decide when I get to indulge, wake up at four, don’t break out of the chains… Do you want to add more?” You sound extra chipper when you ask him. “I really, really like your voice.”

Dr. Ration falters for a second, before coughing into his fist to compose himself. “Yes, yes… Good to know that you have been listening. I only wished you did that long before I had to resort to shackling you. It’s… It’s nice to know this hasn’t discouraged you in any way.”

You blink, then pout at him. “Oh, but um, can’t you give me some motivation… sir? Doctor?” You flutter your eyelashes at him, hands clasped together in pitiful begging. “You know me. I’m a lazy student who’s got too many failing grades and no extracurriculars… I can’t do this all at once without some motivation!” He raises a brow at you, crossing those chiseled arms together. You gulp down your drool before smiling at him bashfully.

“When we cook breakfast… can you, like… wear an apron… only?” Veritas Ratio only raises his eyebrow higher and you tear your gazes away from those aeon-sculpted biceps. “Or! Or! If it’s too much…” You bite down on your lip, coyly playing with the edge of your shirt.

“I… could be the one in an apron?”

[mistycals]

hi hello im going to gush at you first because ohh your writing makes me so insane in a good way

the way that you write aventurine??? absolutely amazing im in love. all of your writing is amazing but im commenting on aventurine specifically because hes my favorite and the way you write him makes my brain so so happy. the way he teases, his dialogue, you write his voice so well its amazing.. cant overstate how much i loved reading the two fics youve already written for him. i hope you know your writing is living in my head rent free, its rotating around in there like its in a microwave

speaking of, i hope you dont mind if i make a request for him <3 would you mind if i requested a fic with aventurine and male reader where the reader is very emotionally expressive? they experience emotions very intensely.. so when theyre happy they show it, they ramble and smile and you can just feel that warm energy, but they can also be prone to tears when they feel lost or sad or just when everything becomes too much sometimes

i just feel like it would be interesting for aventurine to have a bf like that, since he tends to hide a lot of his emotions.. having someone whos so earnest with him. reader might also feel like theyre bothering him with all of their emotions, but he doesnt feel that way at all

sorry for all the rambling, youre not obligated to fulfill this request at all! whether you do or you dont i hope you have a wonderful day/night and take care <3

A/N: AHHHH OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH 🥹💖 I’m literally grinning like an idiot reading this!! The fact that Aventurine (and my writing???) is living in your head rent-free..,,.,,I’m so honored 😭,,

And yes, I would LOVE to write that!! That kind of dynamic of someone so emotionally vibrant + open versus Aventurine, who's so good at keeping things close to his chest SIGH... That dynamic sounds perfect and honestly makes me so excited. Thank you for painting such a vivid picture with your ask <3

Also please don’t ever feel like you’re bothering me!! I ADORE getting messages like this!! It means the world, truly. Thank you for trusting me with your idea, and I hope I can make it as heartfelt and lovely as you imagined. 💫

Take care and thank you again for being so sweet!! 💖

House of Hearts

Pairing: Aventurine x Male Reader

Setting: Aventurine’s residence in Penacony (shared quarters), IPC offices

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Slow-Burn, Comfort

Summary: The reader wears their emotions on their sleeve, a storm of joy and vulnerability that Aventurine has never encountered. Through quiet gestures, shared nights, and small intimate moments at home and at work, he discovers that being swept up in someone’s chaotic warmth is more compelling than he ever expected.

Word Count: 1.17k

Content Warnings: Emotional intensity, mild anxiety, moments of vulnerability, non-explicit intimacy

Aventurine wasn’t used to people like you.

You always wore your emotions on your sleeve. When joy came, it came in waves—with rambling words, laughter spilling from you, warmth radiating like sunlight. And when sadness crept in, it was just as all-consuming, tears brimming at the smallest crack in your heart.

Aventurine, with all his calculated precision and poker-faced charm, didn’t know what to do with someone who refused to hide. He truly had never encountered someone like you before.

At first, you didn’t notice how much he was watching. You were too busy gesturing animatedly about something trivial—a story about your day, a new habit you’d picked up, a stray thought you wanted to share. He leaned back in his chair, magenta and cyan eyes tracing every flick of your hand, every curl of your lips, every shiver of emotion across your face.

“You really don’t have to explain everything so thoroughly.” He smiled coyly, a teasing chuckle slipping out before it softened into something almost fond.

You blinked, flushed. “I… I’m just excited! I like telling you things,” you admitted, voice trembling just slightly, hands fiddling with the cuff of your sleeve.

Aventurine’s smile widened. It was never empty, though it was hard to read. But in that moment, it was warm. Patient. And maybe even a little soft.

He never said it, but the truth was clear in the way he shifted closer when you stumbled over your words, the subtle brush of his hand against yours when you didn’t even realize it, the quiet steadiness of his presence. He didn’t rush you. He didn’t interrupt. He simply existed as a counterbalance to your storm of feeling.

Sometimes you worried you overwhelmed him. You ducked your head, speaking sheepishly. "Sorry… I talk too much."

Aventurine tilted his head, the curve of his smile lingering. “You could keep talking for hours and I’d still listen,” he said, low enough that it felt like it belonged only to you. His eyes flicked over you, quietly amused. “What can I say? You’re hard not to find fascinating.”

Your chest warmed. You wanted to throw yourself into his arms and never let go, but your words caught somewhere between excitement and disbelief. “I—thank you…”

Sometimes, there were moments, too, when sadness caught you unprepared. A pang of frustration or hopelessness, a memory that flared too sharply. Your body would tremble, lips quivering, and you would try to retreat, to hide it, to apologize for being so… so much.

And yet Aventurine would be there, hand resting at the back of your neck, thumb tracing slow circles as your body shook. “Hey,” he murmured once your sobs broke through in the privacy of your shared quarters. “I’ve got you. You don’t need to hold it together right now.”

That was when you realized: he didn’t find your intensity annoying. He found it… compelling. As if he’d long decided you were worth steadying no matter how much you shook.

Aventurine had spent most of his life hiding behind layers of charm, wit, and mastery. People expected him to be untouchable, unshakable. And yet here he was, subtly unraveling for you. Leaning closer when you were upset, listening intently when your joy spilled over, his fingers ghosting against yours as if to anchor himself too.

“You’re a terrible influence,” he said one night, head tipping back against the chair, smile tugging faint at the corner of his mouth. “I didn’t plan on giving this much of a damn.”

It was light, said like a joke—but you could see it in his eyes. He meant every word.

You laughed softly, heart fluttering. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” he whispered, and for the briefest of moments, the calculated strategist vanished, leaving only a man utterly absorbed by the warmth and chaos of someone he could never quite predict.

Nights like that bled into others. The IPC offices glowed softly with screens and overhead lights, and you’d find yourselves side by side. Sometimes there'd be a game of cards between you, Aventurine’s hands deftly moving pieces with precision, but often it was just the two of you, the silence heavy but comfortable. You’d let yourself lean into him, shoulder brushing his, hand slipping into his without asking. A soft hum escaping you.

He had a habit of letting you fill the space around him, letting your energy radiate freely while he measured his own movements, subtle as a whisper. A curl of hair you hadn’t noticed would be tucked behind your ear; your wrist would brush against his arm, and he’d let it linger, the ghost of a touch that anchored him just as much as it did you.

“You know,” he murmured once, voice low and smooth, just above the level of the ticking clock, “if you keep being this vivid, you might make me… distracted.” His lips curved into that familiar smirk, but his eyes—magenta and cyan, impossibly sharp—were softer than usual, lingering on you with something almost like awe.

You laughed, a warm, breathy sound, and pressed closer. “Is that so?”

He didn’t answer, only let his hand settle lightly over yours, thumb brushing along the back of your hand. And in that quiet gesture, there was everything he didn’t need to say: he was here, fully, with you. Not because of some grand declaration, not because of luck or chance, but because being with you felt right, simple and undeniable.

Sometimes, when the lights dimmed just right, you caught him watching—not calculating, not assessing—but simply taking you in. In those moments, the steady control he carried so easily faltered just slightly, enough that you could see the depth of how much he cared.

“How are you so… relentless?” he murmured, softer than usual, almost to himself. You felt the weight of it—his admiration, his longing, his quiet surrender of someone completely undone by you.

You only smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “Guess I’m stubborn like that,” you said, letting the words hang easy between you.

In the calm that followed, he reached ever so slightly, fingers intertwining with yours. Almost without thinking, you leaned into him, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his cheek.

His breath hitched, a warmth spreading through him as a faint chuckle escaped. He leaned closer, compelled by the gentle insistence of the kiss. His thumb traced along the back of your hand as he melted at the simple, unguarded affection.

You stayed close, feeling the subtle rise and fall of his chest, the way his body shifted just enough to mirror yours. Your forehead rested lightly against his temple, and you could feel the quiet steadying of him beneath your touch. Each small movement—his thumb tracing your hand, the brush of his arm against yours—felt like an unspoken conversation, a confirmation that he was present, attentive, and completely here with you.

And sometimes, just sometimes, when he caught your gaze, there was a flicker of something more in his eyes. A hint of awe. A hint of longing. A hint that, in the high-stakes gamble of life, he’d put everything on you.

[banco000]

Gamemaster Tempest

Fire Lord Zuko x Male Reader

Chapter 19: To Meet Again

Masterlist - AO3 - Wattpad Previous Chapter > Chapter 19 > Next Chapter

[Y/n] woke with a groan.

The first thing he became aware of was pain.

Specifically, the sharp protest coming from his neck.

"Ow..."

His voice came out rough from sleep as he rubbed at the offending muscles. Apparently, spending the night asleep while sitting upright wasn't something the human body particularly appreciated. He squeezed his eyes shut and slowly stretched before blinking awake properly. For several seconds, he simply sat there, trying to remember where exactly he was. Then his surroundings finally registered. Not his room. The realisation made him pause. He turned his head slightly and immediately remembered the previous night; the conversation, the teasing, the reassurances, the exhaustion. At some point, both of them must have simply run out of energy. Looking behind him, [Y/n] found the bed and the person occupying it.

Zuko was still asleep.

The Fire Lord had somehow ended up lying across the mattress while [Y/n] remained propped against the side of it on the floor. A faint snore escaped the Fire Lord every few breaths. Nothing dramatic. Just enough to prove he was actually asleep for once. His loose hair was spread across the pillow, and his expression was completely relaxed, free of the tension that usually seemed permanently lodged somewhere behind his eyes. No worries about ministers. No worries about treaties. No worries about assassins or conspiracies or the weight of an entire nation resting on his shoulders. Just sleep. Much needed sleep. [Y/n] found himself watching for a moment longer than necessary. Then a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. After everything that had happened, it was nice to see.

The memories of the night before were still fresh in his mind: the talking, the promising, the closeness, the honesty, the vulnerability. All of it. And, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop that familiarly uncomfortable warm feeling from spreading through his chest at the thought of it.

He shook his head before he could acknowledge it.

Carefully, and with significantly more creaking than he would've preferred, [Y/n] pushed himself to his feet. He moved quietly through the room, collecting the various pieces of clothing he'd discarded the previous night. Cloak. Satchel. Outer robes. The boots he'd kicked aside hours ago. Once everything was gathered, he made his way to the door and slipped outside. 

The Water Tribe guard stationed there immediately blinked in confusion. The man looked from the door, to [Y/n], then back to the door again as though trying to determine whether he'd somehow missed [Y/n] entering the room in the first place. [Y/n] caught the look and immediately raised a hand. 

"We were up all night reviewing reports." The explanation was delivered with a perfectly straight face. Whether the guard believed him was another matter entirely. Before any further questions could be asked, [Y/n] waved him off and started down the hallway toward his own room. Behind him, the guard remained standing there looking deeply unconvinced while [Y/n] walked away with his boots tucked under one arm and a very sore neck.

~*~

By late morning, most of the tribe had settled into a much calmer rhythm.

The chaos of the previous day had been replaced by the familiar bustle of people preparing for departure. Workers moved crates across the docks. Water Tribe sailors checked supplies and ropes. Several Kyoshi Warriors coordinated loading schedules while keeping an eye on security around the harbour. [Y/n] found himself helping Suki organise some of the supplies destined for the Fire Nation ship. The work was simple enough that neither of them needed to devote much attention to it, which naturally meant the conversation wandered all over the place. They discussed the interrogation, the summit, the surviving prisoners, and the increasingly frustrating mystery that was the Burning Eye. At one point, Suki casually remarked that she was beginning to understand why Sokka enjoyed investigations so much. [Y/n] replied that Sokka was a strange man who clearly needed hobbies that involved less attempted murder. Suki had laughed and agreed.

Suki had been helping secure one of the supply crates when she suddenly glanced over at him with a smile that immediately made [Y/n] suspicious. The kind of smile that usually meant trouble.

"So..." She started casually.

"What?" [Y/n] immediately narrowed his eyes. Suki's smile widened.

"How was your walk of shame this morning?"

For several seconds, [Y/n] simply stared at her. Completely blank. Utterly bewildered.

"My what?"

"A little birdie told me they spotted a certain Fire Nation strategist leaving a certain Fire Lord's room this morning." Suki looked delighted. She paused dramatically. "Barefoot. Carrying his clothes." 

The words took a second to register. Then [Y/n]'s face went completely still. His eyes slowly closed. His shoulders sagged. A long, suffering groan escaped him as he buried his face in both hands, already feeling his cheeks start to heat up in embarrassment.

"Oh, for the love of-" The strategist physically turned away from her and stared out across the ocean as though searching for the strength to continue living. When he finally looked back, his expression was a mixture of embarrassment, disbelief, and the overwhelming realisation that he was never going to hear the end of this. He pointed at her with all the dignity he could muster. "Get your head out of the gutter."

The accusation only made Suki grin wider. Which, unfortunately, confirmed that this conversation was about to become significantly worse. [Y/n] let out another long groan before deciding that, apparently, the only way to survive this conversation was to explain what had actually happened.

"We talked." He explained, watching as Suki smiled slyly. The strategist pointed a warning finger at her. "We talked about the mountain collapsing." Her smile grew. "The Burning Eye." Wider. "The assassination attempt." Now she was actively trying not to laugh. "We were both exhausted. And then we fell asleep."

Suki's expression became downright dangerous. [Y/n] realised why and immediately clarified. 

"I slept on the floor."

"Of course." The Kyoshi Warrior nodded solemnly.

"I did."

"Mmhm."

"I woke up with a cramp in my neck."

"Naturally." She nodded knowingly. The strategist stared at her. Suki stared back. Then, after a beat, she smiled sweetly. "So you were just talking?" The emphasis she placed on the words made [Y/n] immediately close his eyes in defeat. A strangled noise escaped him.

"Suki."

"Just talking?"

"Yes."

"Interesting." The smile somehow widened even further. The strategist contemplated throwing himself into the ocean. [Y/n] groaned so loudly that two nearby sailors glanced over.

"I regret helping save all of you."

"Sure you do." Suki laughed outright at that. The strategist rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. Unfortunately, judging by the look on Suki's face, he had the distinct feeling she was never going to let this go. Not now. Not next week. Possibly not ever. Which was a horrifying thought considering how close she was to both Sokka and Toph.

Eventually, the conversation drifted away from Suki's relentless teasing and toward a far more terrifying topic. Paperwork. [Y/n] was the first to bring it up. The strategist was helping secure a crate when he suddenly paused and groaned.

"What?" Suki glanced over. [Y/n] stared blankly into the distance.

"The Grand Chamberlain." He forced out, a headache alreay talking form. For a second, Suki looked confused. Then the realisation dawned. A moment later, she burst out laughing.

"Oh, spirits."

"Exactly." [Y/n] nodded solemnly. The strategist straightened up and pointed accusingly at absolutely nobody. "That man is going to read the report and immediately ascend into a higher state of panic."

"He can't be that bad." Suki nearly dropped the clipboard she was holding. [Y/n] slowly turned toward her.

"Suki." The seriousness in his voice made her laugh harder. "We left for a diplomatic summit." He paused for effect. "Within two days, Zuko was buried beneath a mountain, attacked by multiple assassination teams, targeted by an international conspiracy, and nearly used as the centrepiece of a political execution." [Y/n] folded his arms. "The Grand Chamberlain is going to have a heart attack." Suki outright wheezed. [Y/n] continued anyway. "I genuinely believe he is going to assign himself to Zuko's shadow."

"His shadow?"

"If Zuko moves three feet to the left, the Grand Chamberlain will move three feet to the left." [Y/n] nodded firmly. "If Zuko sneezes, he'll probably file a report about it." The image was ridiculous enough that even [Y/n] had to laugh. Suki leaned against a nearby crate, shaking her head.

"Honestly?" She sighed dramatically. "I can't even make fun of you for that." [Y/n] raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"Do you have any idea how much work I'm about to get handed when we get back?" The Kyoshi Warrior pointed at herself. [Y/n] immediately winced. Suki groaned. "The second the others hear what happened, every security protocol in the world is going to get reviewed." The strategist nodded sympathetically.

"That's fair."

"The council is going to want reports."

"Mmhm."

"Investigations."

"Mmhm."

"Threat assessments."

"Mmhm."

"You sound suspiciously unsurprised." Suki narrowed her eyes. [Y/n] let out a tired sigh.

"Because I'm about to suffer exactly the same fate." That immediately earned a laugh. [Y/n] rubbed at his temples. "I'm already preparing myself. General Mak probably has a mountain of military reports waiting for me."

"A mountain?" Suki laughed.

"Several mountains." [Y/n] didn't even hesitate. "The moment we get back, he's going to appear from nowhere." He mimed someone materialising out of thin air. "'Chief Strategist, while you were away, there were forty-seven reports requiring authorisation.'" 

"'Also, while assassins were trying to kill you, could you sign these forms?'" Suki snorted, joining in with an impression of her own.

"Exactly." They both laughed. Because, unfortunately, they knew it was probably true. Somewhere in the Fire Nation, bureaucrats and military officers were continuing their jobs, completely unaware that their leaders had nearly died beneath a mountain. And the moment they returned home, all those responsibilities would still be waiting.

Patiently. Like predators. Ready to pounce the second [Y/n] and Zuko stepped off the ship.

A few minutes later, the conversation was interrupted by the arrival of two familiar figures making their way across the docks. One of them looked normal. The other looked like he was arriving to announce a national tragedy.

"SUKI!" The shout echoed across half the harbour. Several sailors looked up. A gull took off from a nearby post. Suki didn't even flinch. A second later, Sokka arrived at full speed and immediately wrapped his arms around her. "You're leaving!" The accusation sounded genuinely devastated. Suki laughed.

"We're leaving tonight."

"That's basically the same thing."

"It really isn't."

"You'll be gone."

"Sokka."

His expression somehow became even more tragic. The Kyoshi Warrior shook her head affectionately and kissed him before he could continue. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to help much.

"I can't believe you're abandoning me."

"We spent the entire summit together."

"You can never have too much Suki."

That was difficult for her to argue with. Nearby, [Y/n] rolled his eyes so hard it was a wonder they stayed in his head. Then he turned toward the second arrival.

"Ready to deal with the Grand Chamberlain?"

"No." Zuko immediately groaned.

"He's going to explode."

"I know."

"He might actually combust."

"Shut up." The answer came so quickly that [Y/n] immediately started smiling because it confirmed exactly what he'd suspected; Zuko had clearly spent at least part of the morning reaching the exact same conclusion.

Suki waited until both men were close enough to hear her before the smile returned. A very specific smile. The kind that immediately made [Y/n] regret existing. She glanced toward Zuko and casually spoke up. 

"So, feeling refreshed after last night?" She asked slyly, looking between the two with a mischievous grin.

"...What?" The Fire Lord blinked. His confusion was completely genuine. Which somehow made the situation worse.

"Dear Agni, woman, can you please grow up?" Across from him, [Y/n] immediately groaned and rubbed a hand over his face and turning away to hide how red his ears were growing. Unfortunately, those comments immediately caught Sokka's attention. The warrior's eyes narrowed. Then widened. Then narrowed again.

"Wait." He pointed between them. "What are we talking about?"

"Nothing."

"There's something."

"There isn't." [Y/n] snapped, turning away in embarrassment. Sokka turned toward Suki, now very interested. The Kyoshi Warrior looked delighted.

"A little birdie informed me that a certain Fire Nation strategist was spotted leaving a certain Fire Lord's room this morning." She repeated, sending [Y/n] a wink that made him want to electrocute her.

"Oh?" The warrior immediately perked up, a smirk pulling its way dangerously to his lips.

"Carrying his clothes and shoes."

"OHHHH." The sound echoed across the dock. Several nearby sailors looked over. [Y/n] looked ready to walk directly into the sea.

"There is no 'oh.'"

"There's totally an 'oh.'"

"There isn't!"

For a few seconds, Zuko simply stood there trying to process the conversation. His eyes moved between Suki's grin, Sokka's rapidly growing excitement, and [Y/n]'s expression of pure suffering. Then his brain finally caught up. The exact implication of feeling refreshed after last night, combined with leaving his room barefoot and carrying his clothes, slammed into him all at once. The Fire Lord froze. A faint red tint immediately appeared on his ears before rapidly spreading across his face. His eyes widened in horror as he realised what Suki was suggesting, what Sokka now thought she was suggesting, and most importantly, that everyone was looking directly at him, waiting for a reaction. Zuko immediately looked away and buried his face in one hand. 

"Oh..." The word came out strangled. Then he groaned. "Oh, Agni..." The sound of Sokka's laughter getting louder only made the embarrassment worse. Meanwhile, [Y/n] looked ready to jump off the dock and let the ocean take him.

"There it is." Sokka announced triumphantly. The Fire Lord buried his face in one hand. Sokka looked like he'd just been handed the greatest gift of his life. "You slept in Zuko's room?"

"We fell asleep talking."

"'We fell asleep talking.'" Suki immediately repeated the words in a tone that made them sound like the least believable excuse ever invented. [Y/n] made a strangled noise.

"That is exactly what happened."

"Mmhm."

"I literally slept on the floor."

"Of course."

"We spent the entire previous day fighting assassins."

"Very romantic."

"There was a mountain collapse."

"Extremely romantic."

Zuko groaned loudly. Sokka looked seconds away from collapsing with laughter. And judging by the smug look on Suki's face, she was enjoying every second of it. Neither of them was ever going to let either of them live this down. [Y/n] immediately turned away before he did something that would create an international incident. Normally he could handle teasing. But Suki and Sokka together were apparently a force of nature.

And, for some reason... what they were teasing him about was making that extremely persistent warm feeling in his chest come back.

The strategist grabbed the nearest crate and began aggressively reorganising supplies that absolutely did not need reorganising while muttering under his breath about throwing people into the ocean. Behind him, Suki looked entirely too pleased with herself. While Sokka seemed to decide that this was the funniest thing he'd ever witnessed. The Fire Lord immediately looked like he regretted waking up that morning.

Eventually, Sokka's laughter died down enough for him to remain upright. Unfortunately, this only made him more dangerous. With the confidence of a man who had completely misunderstood the level of danger he was in, he casually draped an arm over Zuko's shoulders. The Fire Lord immediately looked offended by the contact. Sokka ignored him as he let out a long, theatrical sigh.

"Zuko."

"No."

"My friend."

"No."

"My brother."

"Sokka."

"You know..." He said in a tone that suggested he absolutely did not know. "If you're ever curious about what two people do for fun at night, I'd be happy to give you some advice." Zuko stared at him in abject disgust. Sokka continued anyway. "I've got plenty of experience." The warrior pointed proudly at himself before gesturing between himself and Suki. "I'm basically an expert." A tiny flame suddenly appeared on the edge of his sleeve. Sokka blinked. Then looked down. "Uh." The flame rapidly spread across the fabric. 

"ZUKO!" Sokka yelped, frantically batting at his arm while the Fire Lord stared straight ahead with the expression of a man contemplating murder. "I was only trying to help!" Another frantic slap. "I was going to give you tips!" More smoke appeared. "I always keep Suki happy!" He continued anyway, apparently deciding to die on this hill. "And she didn't end up sneaking out of my room the next morning-" The fire flared slightly larger. "AAGH!" Sokka finally managed to smother it before any real damage was done and immediately pointed at Zuko in outrage. 

Meanwhile, the Fire Lord had gone so red that his scar was basically bleeding into his face and looked moments away from setting the rest of him on fire too. Nearby, Suki had doubled over laughing, while [Y/n] was quietly considering whether helping Zuko hide the body would be morally acceptable.

"Whatever you're implying..." The Fire Lord said through gritted teeth. "Absolutely did not happen." Sokka, still patting the dying flames, stared at the smoking sleeve.

"Did you just set me on fire?"

"A little."

"You set me on fire!"

"A little."

After several frantic seconds of slapping at his sleeve, Sokka finally managed to extinguish the flames. A thin trail of smoke still rose from the fabric as he glared at Zuko with all the indignation of a man who believed he'd been grievously wronged.

"I was just offering relationship advice!" The accusation echoed across the dock. Zuko stared at him before he immediately snapped back.

"There is no relationship to offer advice on!" He yelled back, with a tone that was unfortunately far too panicked and shaky to be perceived as threatening. The response came so quickly that it was obvious he'd been waiting to say it. Unfortunately, that only gave Suki more ammunition. The Kyoshi Warrior's grin returned in full force. She looked between the two men.

"Careful, Zuko." She tilted her head innocently. The Fire Lord immediately looked suspicious. Suki's smile widened. "You're going to hurt [Y/n]'s feelings if you talk like that." The silence that followed was immediate. Slowly, [Y/n] turned toward her. The strategist pointed directly at the ocean beside the docks.

"If you say one more word..." His voice was completely flat. "I am throwing you in there." Suki burst out laughing. So did Sokka. The warrior nearly doubled over.

"This is the best day of my life."

"You almost got set on fire."

"It was worth it."

Meanwhile, both [Y/n] and Zuko stood there looking utterly defeated. Neither had a response. Neither had the energy. The pair exchanged a glance. A silent one. The kind that said these people are impossible. But unfortunately, and entirely thanks to the teasing, neother could look at eachother for more than a couple of seconds before looking away.

Across from them, Suki and Sokka continued laughing uncontrollably. Which somehow made everything worse. Because the more embarrassed the two of them became, the funnier the entire situation apparently was.

Eventually, Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. [Y/n] stared out toward the ocean. And for one brief moment, both of them seriously considered whether it would be easier to fight another eleven assassins than to continue this conversation. Somehow, despite assassination attempts, conspiracies, and near-death experiences, this might have been the most exhausting part of the entire trip.

~*~

A few hours later, the seven of them had once again claimed the back room of Sokka's workshop. The atmosphere couldn't have been more different from the previous day. No conspiracies. No interrogations. No assassins. Just seven exhausted people occupying every available surface while pretending they weren't all avoiding the fact that they'd be separating again in a few hours.

Sokka had claimed his workbench chair and was currently leaning so far back in it that Katara looked moments away from bending water onto him out of principle. Suki sat on a nearby table sorting through a small pile of supplies she'd brought with her. Aang was sprawled on the floor with Momo asleep on his stomach. [Y/n] and Zuko occupied the wall beneath the workshop window, enjoying the rare luxury of having absolutely nothing urgent demanding their attention. The only person actually doing anything was Toph.

Which was enough to capture everyone's attention.

"Don't interrupt me, Sparky."

"I'm sitting completely still." Zuko sighed.

"Good."

The Fire Lord's crown hovered in the air between Toph's hands.

The previous day's events had left several tiny scratches across the gold surface, along with a slight bend on one side. Nothing serious. Nothing anyone else would've noticed. Unfortunately, the Grand Chamberlain would have noticed. Which meant the crown had to be fixed before he could see it and complain. And that's how it became Toph's latest project.

Everyone watched as the metal slowly shifted. Tiny scratches vanished. Dents smoothed out. The slight bend straightened itself. The process looked almost effortless. A few small imperfections disappeared one after another as Toph manipulated the metal with microscopic precision. Honestly, it was impressive. Even [Y/n], who had spent years around Fire Nation metalworkers, couldn't help watching in awe.

"How are you doing that?"

"It's metal." Toph shrugged. The answer explained absolutely nothing.

"That didn't answer the question."

"It answered my question."

"You didn't ask a question."

"Exactly."

Toph continued working, completely ignoring everyone else. Slowly, the last visible imperfection disappeared from the crown. The gold gleamed beneath the workshop lights as though nothing had ever happened to it at all. For a moment, Toph simply ran her hands over it, inspecting her work through vibrations in the metal. Then she nodded once.

"There." The crown floated across the room. Zuko caught it automatically. The Fire Lord turned it over in his hands and blinked. It looked brand new. Not repaired. Not fixed. New. The scratches were gone. The dents were gone. Even the slight bend [Y/n] had noticed the night before had vanished entirely. For a second, Zuko simply stared. Then a small smile appeared.

"Thanks."

"Don't make it weird." Toph immediately pointed at him. The Fire Lord's smile disappeared.

"Never mind, then."

And for a little while longer, they remained exactly where they were, lounging around a workshop, watching Toph bully the Fire Lord while pretending she hadn't just spent fifteen minutes carefully restoring something important to him. Nobody pointed that part out. Mostly because they all knew she'd throw something at them if they did.

For a few minutes, the workshop settled into a comfortable quiet. Sokka had returned to tinkering with some small mechanical device he'd apparently started building between conversations. The warrior sat hunched over the workbench, carefully adjusting a series of tiny springs and gears while everyone else relaxed nearby. Unfortunately, after a while, a familiar expression slowly began appearing on his face. The expression of a man remembering something he absolutely should not say.

[Y/n] noticed it immediately. So did Suki. The Kyoshi Warrior immediately looked away. Which somehow made it worse. Sokka glanced toward Zuko. Then toward [Y/n]. Then back again. His grin started growing. Across the room, Sokka opened his mouth.

"So, about this morn-"

A tiny bolt of lightning shot across the room.

CRACK.

The gadget exploded directly in Sokka's hands. A small cloud of smoke filled the workshop. Several gears launched into the air. Something bounced off the ceiling. When the smoke cleared, Sokka remained perfectly still. His face was covered in black soot. His hair looked slightly singed. One of the springs had somehow landed on top of his head.

The room went completely silent.

Slowly, very slowly, Sokka lowered what remained of the gadget. Then he stared directly at [Y/n]. [Y/n] stared right back. The strategist didn't even attempt to look innocent. A long moment passed. Then Sokka nodded once.

"Forget it. I'll tell you later." The threat hung heavily in the air. Across the room, Toph immediately sat upright.

"Tell us what later?"

"No."

"Come on."

"No."

"What happened?"

"Apparently, something very interesting." Sokka pointed vaguely toward [Y/n]. The strategist buried his face in one hand. Suki looked delighted. Zuko looked like he was considering setting a second person on fire. Toph leaned forward.

"Well, now I need to know."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do."

"No."

Before the argument could spiral completely out of control, Aang suddenly sat up.

"So!" The abruptness of the interruption was almost impressive. Everyone turned toward him. The Avatar smiled a little too brightly. "I just wanted to say I'm really grateful to Gran Gran for making me a vegetarian version of the stew." The room went silent. Aang nodded, clearly committing fully to the distraction. "That was really nice of her." Another pause. "And it was really good." Katara immediately picked up on what he was doing. And, to her credit, decided to help.

"Oh, yeah." She nodded. "She was really happy when she found out you were coming."

"She made enough food to feed an army." Aang smiled.

"That's pretty normal for her." The conversation lurched violently onto a completely different track. Sokka blinked. Toph groaned. The Avatar smiled.

Meanwhile, [Y/n] quietly mouthed thank you across the room. Aang gave the tiniest nod in return. The strategist immediately decided that, whatever Aang had done in a past life to become the Avatar, he had earned it. Katara smiled as the conversation finally settled into something normal again.

For a while, they simply talked. Just friends spending the last few hours they had together before everyone scattered back across the world again. Eventually, Katara let out a small sigh. The sound drew several glances. She looked between Zuko, Suki, and [Y/n].

"I wish you could stay a little longer." The admission was quiet. Honest. The room softened slightly at the words. Because, despite everything that had happened, none of them were particularly eager to say goodbye already. Zuko smiled faintly.

"Honestly?" He leaned back against the wall. "I do too."

"Really?" Aang perked up hopefully.

"We can't." He shut down the idea before Aang could latch onto it. The Avatar immediately deflated. Zuko laughed before he shook his head. "If [Y/n] and I stay away from the palace much longer..." He exchanged a look with the strategist. "...there might not be a palace left when we get back."

"There's no way it's that bad." Toph barked out a laugh.

"Oh, it's absolutely that bad." The room immediately turned toward [Y/n]. He didn't even hesitate. "At this point, the Grand Chamberlain is probably rocking back and forth in a corner somewhere." Sokka immediately snorted. [Y/n] continued completely seriously. "Stroking a portrait of Zuko." Zuko groaned. "And crying."

The room erupted into laughter. The Fire Lord buried his face in one hand.

"And it's only gonna get worse when he realises we were almost killed." He complained, and [Y/n] nodded, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Not to mention, I fully expect General Mak to hand me three stacks of reports and a resignation letter the moment I walk through the palace doors after trying to handle my workload these last few days."

"You're terrible."

"I'm right."

Unfortunately, judging by the look on Zuko's face, the Fire Lord clearly suspected he might actually be right. Which only made everyone laugh harder. The laughter slowly died down after that, though occasional snickers still escaped whenever someone glanced at Zuko or [Y/n] and remembered the increasingly dramatic descriptions of the palace staff.

Eventually, Suki leaned back against the table she was sitting on and looked toward Toph.

"How are your students doing, anyway?" Her question was met with a groan from Toph. The reaction alone answered half the question.

"My condolences." Sokka mocked. The earthbender just folded her arms.

"They're fine." The answer was suspiciously short. Suki smiled knowingly.

"Seems like there's more to that."

"They're learning."

"Toph."

"They're trying."

"Toph."

The earthbender let out an exaggerated sigh.

"Fine." For a moment, she seemed to consider her answer. "They're... good." Everyone blinked. Then Toph immediately scowled. "Don't make a big deal out of it." The room instantly became interested.

"So they are doing well." Aang smiled.

"They're doing better." Toph corrected. "Some of them can actually metalbend now."

"That's great." Katara smiled. Toph looked offended by the praise.

"It took forever."

"You're inventing an entirely new bending art."

"Exactly." The earthbender pointed at her. "So they should learn faster." Nobody bothered pointing out how ridiculous that logic was. Mostly because it was Toph.

"And?" Suki prompted.

"And they're working hard." Toph rolled her eyes. The admission sounded physically painful. "They listen... Mostly... And some of them are actually getting pretty good." The room went quiet. Because that was probably the closest thing to a compliment Toph Beifong had ever given anyone.

"You like them." Sokka immediately grinned.

"No, I don't."

"You do."

"I don't."

"You absolutely do."

Toph pointed a finger directly at him.

"They break things."

"You break things."

"They break my things."

"That's fair."

The earthbender huffed. Then, despite herself, a small smile appeared. 

"So one of them accidentally punched through a wall." The room immediately perked up. Aang laughed. Katara groaned. Sokka looked impressed. Toph nodded approvingly. "That one has potential."

"Toph!"

"What?"

"You can't encourage that."

"I can and I will." The earthbender leaned back in her seat. "Besides..." A smug grin appeared. "They're going to be the first generation of metalbenders." For a moment, her usual joking demeanour faded. Replaced by something quieter. Something proud. "They'll figure it out." The room softened slightly at that. Even Toph seemed to realise she'd accidentally said something sincere. Which meant she immediately ruined it. "If they don't, I'll throw rocks at them until they do."

"There's the Toph we know." Sokka smiled teasingly. The workshop erupted into laughter once again. The laughter carried on for a while after that. Stories were exchanged. Old embarrassments were brought up. Sokka suffered repeated attacks from everyone in the room. In other words, everything was normal.

Eventually, as the noise settled into a comfortable lull, Aang glanced around at the group and smiled softly.

"So..." The Avatar hesitated. "When do you think we'll all get to do this again?"

The question immediately changed the mood. Not negatively. Just enough to make everyone stop and think. The workshop grew quieter. Katara looked thoughtful. Sokka stopped fiddling with his latest project. Even Toph tilted her head slightly.

Because none of them actually knew. Everyone's lives were busy. The world was large. Responsibilities had a habit of piling up. For a long moment, nobody answered.

Then Zuko sighed. The sound carried all the enthusiasm of a man volunteering for his own execution. He glanced at [Y/n] from the corner of his eye, who immediately knew where this was going: toward the thing he and Zuko had been trying to avoid even thinking about for weeks.

"There is..." The Fire Lord visibly grimaced. "...a banquet in three months." [Y/n] immediately closed his eyes, a sudden uneasy feeling washing over him in an instant. He knew exactly which banquet Zuko was talking about. Across the room, Sokka perked up.

"A banquet?"

"Don't get excited." [Y/n] sighed tiredly, fighting the urge to vomit at the thought of that damn banquet.

"Too late." The warrior pointed dramatically at himself. "Am I invited?" He asked excitedly. Zuko stared at him. Then sighed.

"It's probably not the kind of banquet you're imagining." He stressed. That only made everyone more interested.

"What does that mean?" Katara frowned. Before Zuko could answer, [Y/n] spoke. His voice was completely flat.

"The advisors are annoyed."

"About?"

"Everything." The strategist replied flatly. That earned a few nods of understanding from the others. "Specifically, they're annoyed that Zuko doesn't have a... child yet." The room went silent. Then Toph immediately burst out laughing. Loudly. Violently. She nearly fell out of her seat. "They've basically decided the solution is forcing him to host a party where every noble family in the Four Nations can parade their daughters in front of him." [Y/n] continued without paying her much mind. "Like prizes."

Toph completely lost it. Aang looked horrified. Katara looked deeply uncomfortable. Sokka looked fascinated. Meanwhile, Zuko looked like he wanted the floor to open and swallow him whole.

"I hate all of you." The Fire Lord buried his face in one hand. "I have absolutely no interest in choosing anyone." The statement came immediately. Firm. Unequivocal.

Then Suki slowly smiled. It wasn't a large smile. In many ways, that made it worse. The Kyoshi Warrior leaned back against the table and casually folded her arms. 

"Really?" She asked slyly. Zuko immediately narrowed his eyes. The tone alone was enough to tell him exactly where this was going. 

"Really." He replied. 

"Interesting." Suki hummed thoughtfully. "I wonder why." The words dripped with innocence so fake it was practically glowing. Across the room, Sokka's eyes widened as he caught up. Then a grin started spreading across his face. Meanwhile, Zuko's face immediately started turning red. 

"Suki." The warning was immediate. The Kyoshi Warrior held up her hands innocently. 

"What?" She asked, sounding entirely too pleased with herself.  "I'm just saying it's curious." 

"Don't." The Fire Lord pointed at her. By now, Sokka was openly laughing, Katara was looking away to avoid making things worse, and Aang looked trapped between embarrassment and amusement. Suki, completely unapologetic, simply smiled and sipped her tea while the Fire Lord shot her a look that promised revenge the moment there weren't witnesses around. That only seemed to amuse her more.

Meanwhile, Aang looked between them before desperately trying to change topics.

"So..." The Avatar pointed toward Zuko. "You want us to come to this thing?"

"Absolutely." Zuko replied instantly, though he shot Suki and Sokka a look that read 'not you two, though.'

"You weren't originally on the guest list, but I'll get it updated." [Y/n] offered, causing  Sokka to immediately look offended.

"What?"

"Apparently." [Y/n] adopted a pompous voice. "'The Avatar and his associates would distract the Fire Lord from his duties.'" The room immediately knew who had said that.

"The Grand Chamberlain?"

"The Grand Chamberlain."

"I'll have him know I am perfectly capable of being distracting and diplomatic." Sokka looked personally insulted.

"No one doubts the first part." [Y/n] laughed tiredly before nodding. "I'll add all of you." [Y/n] announced, returning to the topic before Sokka could complain again. "And when the Chamberlain gets angry, I'll let him blame me."

"Can you do that?" Aang frowned. The strategist and Fire Lord exchanged a look. Then both laughed. Which wasn't particularly reassuring. Zuko leaned back against the wall.

"The Chamberlain already kind of dislikes [Y/n]."

"Kind of?"

"Fine." The Fire Lord sighed. "He definitely dislikes [Y/n]."

"I prefer 'professionally wishes Suki and Ty Lee never found me.'"

"He doesn't seem to appreciate that [Y/n] 'distracts' me by letting me have normal, non-political conversations with him and talks to me like an actual human being and not a walking crown." Zuko explained while Toph gasped dramatically.

"Oh, the horror!" The room erupted into laughter. Zuko shook his head.

"And besides." He pointed at his strategist. "It's not like anyone except me can actually fire him. So he can just ignore the chamberlain's complaints."

Sokka looked impressed. Toph looked jealous. And somewhere, hundreds of miles away in the Fire Nation capital, a Grand Chamberlain suddenly felt a disturbance in the world and had absolutely no idea why.

Katara still looked deeply concerned the more she thought about the banquet.

"Wait... This whole banquet thing..." She glanced between Zuko and [Y/n]. "They really want to do that?"

"Unfortunately." The Fire Lord groaned immediately. The answer carried the exhausted tone of someone who had explained this problem far too many times already.

"But why?" Katara frowned. 

"Because I've been single ever since Mai and I broke up." Zuko leaned back in his seat and rubbed at his temples. The Fire Lord sighed. "And apparently a significant number of nobles have decided that's a problem that needs solving." He continued. "Some of them want to improve their family's status. Others want political influence. Some think marrying into the royal family would help their businesses." The Fire Lord's expression became noticeably flatter. "And a few Earth Kingdom nobles have apparently decided that improving diplomatic relations through marriage sounds like a wonderful idea."

"Seriously?" Sokka blinked. The warrior genuinely looked horrified.

"Seriously."

"People are weird."

"They are." The answer came from both Zuko and [Y/n] at exactly the same time. That earned a few laughs. Then Zuko's expression sobered slightly.

"The worst part is that nobody treats it like they're talking about actual people." His voice grew quieter, more frustrated. "They talk about it like they're arranging trade agreements." The room fell silent. The Fire Lord looked away for a moment.

"Honestly? The whole thing makes me wildly uncomfortable." He admitted. Katara's expression softened. "My mother spent years trapped in an arranged marriage." The words landed heavily. Everyone knew that story. Everyone knew how badly it had ended. Everyone knew what it did to Ursa, to Zuko and to Azula "I watched what that did to her. I'm not interested in repeating it."

The room remained quiet. For a moment, nobody spoke. Then Zuko sighed.

"The problem is that the advisors won't stop bringing it up, so eventually we ran out of excuses." The Fire Lord looked deeply unhappy about the entire situation. "[Y/n] did his best to help hold them off, but he got dragged into it in the process." He flashed an apologetic look to his strategist, who just sighed in response. "Which is how we ended up with this banquet."

"That's rough, buddy." Sokka winced, not even managing to earn a laugh with the old callback. Then a thought occurred to him. Immediately. The warrior slowly turned toward [Y/n]. "What does he mean by 'dragged into the process'?" The room turned toward him.

"You're smart enough to know already." [Y/n] sighed, watching Sokka cross his arms over his chest.

"Your title got reinstated. You're a noble again. And you're the Chief Strategist." The warrior leaned forward. "If they can't get the Fire Lord..." A grin appeared. "...are they going to settle for his Chief Strategist?"

The room immediately became interested. Toph perked up. Suki looked amused. Aang looked apologetic. Katara looked curious. 

Zuko, however, without even realising it, looked deeply irritated.

"Probably." [Y/n] sighed heavily. The strategist folded his arms. "I'm fully expecting some of them to try, especially the ones whose daughters don't manage to get Zuko's attention." His brows furrowed at the thought alone. "But I'm not interested either. I have no intention of taking a political wife. And hopefully..." He gestured vaguely. "...the fact that I made Zuko keep my family house disbanded helps." That earned a few confused looks, so he elaborated. "My title was reinstated, and I was reinstated, but my family wasn't." The realisation slowly spread around the room.

"Oh." Aang blinked.

"So there's no house to marry into." Katara nodded.

"Exactly." The strategist smiled faintly. "Which hopefully makes me less attractive as a political target." He groaned quietly, not even believing his own words. Sokka thought about it. Then shrugged.

"I wouldn't count on that."

"Neither would I." The answer came so quit it earned another round of laughter. Then [Y/n] sighed. "At least if things get bad, I can leave." The room paused.

"What?" Aang asked.

"If someone starts trying to arrange a marriage proposal, I can just, in theory, make up an excuse to leave." [Y/n] pointed toward himself. "I can escape." Then he pointed toward Zuko. The Fire Lord immediately understood where this was going and looked offended before the sentence was even finished. "He can't."

"That's not fair."

"It is for me." The strategist nodded unapologetically. "If a conversation gets uncomfortable, I can disappear. You have to stay." The Fire Lord groaned. Because, unfortunately, it was true. He was the host. The ruler. The centre of the entire event. He couldn't exactly vanish out a window halfway through a diplomatic conversation. [Y/n], meanwhile, had enough excuses locked and loaded that he absolutely could. And judging by the look on his face, he fully intended to if necessary.

"I hate that you're right."

"I know."

"And I hate that you're happy about it."

"I know."

Toph laughed even harder while Zuko sat there, looking increasingly betrayed by the fact that his Chief Strategist apparently considered fleeing social interactions a more preferential plan than staying by his Lord's side and suffering alongside him like a good friend would.

Eventually, the conversation began to slow. Nobody said anything about it at first. Nobody wanted to. The workshop had become comfortable over the past few hours. Safe. Familiar. For a little while, they'd managed to forget about responsibilities waiting elsewhere in the world. The Fire Lord hadn't been the Fire Lord. The Avatar hadn't been the Avatar. Nobody had been thinking about investigations, politics, or assassination attempts. They'd just been friends, sitting together in a workshop. Unfortunately, the sun had continued moving whether they acknowledged it or not. 

Eventually, Katara glanced toward the window. Then Suki. Then Zuko. One by one, everyone reached the same conclusion. It was time. The realisation earned a collective groan from the room.

"Nope." Toph immediately folded her arms. "We're ignoring time."

"I don't think that's how time works." Aang said.

"It should." Unfortunately, even she stood up.

Slowly, everyone began gathering their things. Chairs were pushed back. Bags were collected. Momo was scooped up after attempting to steal something from Sokka's workbench. The group filtered out of the workshop together and headed toward Appa first. The sky bison was already waiting nearby, lazily chewing on something while enjoying the attention he was receiving from various members of the tribe. Aang immediately hurried over to greet him. 

Zuko, Suki, and [Y/n] followed more casually. Appa rumbled happily as they approached. [Y/n] reached up and scratched behind one of the giant creature's ears, earning an approving snort. Suki laughed as Appa nearly pushed her over, trying to get more attention. Even Zuko smiled faintly as he patted the sky bison's side.

Eventually, there were no more excuses left. The entire group began making their way toward the docks together. Nobody seemed particularly eager to arrive. Especially not Sokka.

"I'm going to miss you." The declaration came less than thirty seconds after they started walking. Suki smiled.

"I know."

"Terribly."

"I know."

"Every day."

"I know."

"Every hour." He wept dramatically. Suki laughed. Behind them, Katara buried her face in her hands. Aang looked amused. Toph looked like she was considering pushing Sokka into the snow. The warrior continued anyway. "The pain will be unbearable."

"You're being dramatic."

"I am suffering."

"You'll see me again in three months."

"That's basically forever."

"Three months."

"Forever."

The argument continued all the way down the path. By the time they reached the docks, even Zuko was starting to look amused. Which was impressive considering he normally had a fairly low tolerance for Sokka's nonsense. Unfortunately for everyone involved, Sokka seemed determined to make every remaining second count. Which meant the closer they got to the ship, the louder his complaints became. And judging by Suki's increasingly fond smile, she wasn't nearly as annoyed by it as she pretended to be.

Eventually, the harbour came into view. The Fire Nation ship was already waiting. Crew members moved across the deck, making final preparations for departure. Sailors checked ropes and supplies while officers reviewed manifests one final time. Nearby, several Kyoshi Warriors were preparing to board their own transport alongside Suki. Everything was ready.

Everything except the people.

[Y/n] slowed slightly as they reached the edge of the dock. Beside him, Zuko did the same. Suki stopped, too. The three of them turned around. And suddenly, there were no more distractions left. No workshop. No conversations. No excuses. Just the fact that it was time to say goodbye.

"I'm sorry Dad couldn't be here." Katara smiled sadly.

"It's fine." Zuko shook his head immediately.

"He wanted to." The waterbender nodded. "He's still dealing with everything involving the prisoners." The reminder briefly brought everyone's thoughts back to reality. The Burning Eye. The interrogation. The attack. The investigation still waiting for them. Katara's expression became slightly more serious. "But he wanted me to tell you that if they learn anything..." She glanced between Zuko and [Y/n]. "He'll send a message immediately."

"Thank you." The Fire Lord nodded. The gratitude was obvious. Katara smiled. Then the silence returned. A slightly awkward one this time. Because suddenly nobody quite knew how to begin. Thankfully, Aang did. The Avatar stepped forward first. Because of course he did. He smiled. A little sad. A little hopeful.

"We'll see you in three months." The statement sounded more like a promise than a guess.

"Assuming the banquet doesn't collapse into a diplomatic disaster." Zuko smiled back.

"It'll definitely collapse into a diplomatic disaster."

"Thanks, Toph."

"You're welcome."

Aang laughed. Then stepped forward and pulled Zuko into a quick hug. The Fire Lord didn't hesitate to return it. When they pulled apart, Aang turned toward [Y/n]. The strategist had approximately half a second to react before receiving the same treatment.

"Take care of yourself." The words were quiet but deeply sincere. 

"You too." [Y/n] smiled faintly. Then Aang stepped back, saying his goodbyes to Suki while giving space for the others. Katara was next. She hugged Zuko first, much less awkwardly than either of them would have years ago. Then she pulled away and pointed at him.

"If you get buried under another mountain before the banquet, I'm going to be annoyed." 

"I'll do my best." Zuko laughed.

"Good." Then she turned toward [Y/n]. The strategist blinked before receiving a hug too. "You too."

"What did I do?"

"You attract trouble." She laughed. Despite only knowing him a couple of days, she seemed to have sussed that little part of him out very fast. [Y/n] sighed dramatically but smiled nevertheless. Katara returned the gesture. Then hugged Suki before stepping back beside Aang.

Toph was next. Or rather, she wasn't. The earthbender folded her arms.

"Okay, bye." The group stared at her.

"...That's it?" Sokka asked.

"What else am I supposed to do?"

"Acknowledge emotions." The warrior looked offended.

"Ew." The answer came immediately. Toph pointed toward Zuko. "Try not to let the nobles eat you alive." Then toward [Y/n]. "And try not to electrocute too many people."

"No promises."

"Good answer." Toph looks stupidly proud of him for that one. "And you... just keep being you." She offered Suki, earning a laugh in response. Then, much more quietly, she spoke up again. "Three months." The words were almost lost beneath the harbour noise. But everyone heard them anyway. And nobody pointed out that it was probably the closest thing to a heartfelt goodbye Toph was willing to give. Because they all liked being alive.

Sokka, naturally, insisted on making his goodbye take twice as long as everyone else's. The warrior went around the group one by one, dramatically shaking hands, hugging people, and generally behaving as though they were embarking on a decade-long voyage rather than a three-month separation.

"You." He pointed at Zuko. The Fire Lord immediately looked exhausted. "Take care of yourself."

"I will."

"And don't let nobles bully you."

"I'm the Fire Lord." Zuko reminded flatly.

"Exactly." Sokka nodded seriously. "Which means they'll do it politely." The others collectively groaned. Then the warrior turned toward [Y/n]. "And you."

"Oh no."

"Try not to start any international incidents."

"No promises."

"That's concerning." Then he pointed toward Suki. "I miss you already."

"We're still standing next to each other."

"I know." The declaration somehow sounded even more tragic. Suki laughed and kissed his cheek. The warrior immediately looked much happier. For approximately three seconds. Then he looked sad again.

Eventually, however, there were genuinely no more goodbyes left to say. The crew had finished preparations. The ship was ready. The captain was already waiting. Zuko, Suki, and [Y/n] turned toward the gangway. Then Aang suddenly spoke.

"Wait." The three paused. The Avatar smiled. "When we come for the banquet..." He glanced toward the others. "...we'll stay longer this time." The statement earned several approving nods. Katara smiled. Sokka agreed immediately. Even Toph looked vaguely supportive. "You two won't have to leave because of work." The comment earned simultaneous snorts from both Zuko and [Y/n]. The Avatar frowned. "What?"

"Nothing."

"You don't believe me." Aang looked offended, but neither of them commented on it because they both knew he was right. Aang pouted for a minute before he smiled again. "Oh, and [Y/n]?"

"Yeah?" The strategist blinked.

"I was thinking about our conversation in the workshop." He explained, crossing his arms over his chest while [Y/n]'s mind flashed back to the conversation he was talking about. "And I decided something." The Avatar nodded. "I want you to teach me how to generate lightning."

The dock went silent. Several people blinked. Sokka nearly choked.

"What?" The warrior stared at him. "Aang." The Avatar looked confused. "You want to learn lightning?"

"I thought about what [Y/n] said." Aang nodded, completely serious. "Being able to restart someone's heart is way too useful not to learn."

The silence somehow deepened. Sokka stared. Katara looked thoughtful. Toph immediately looked interested.

Meanwhile, [Y/n] just blinked. Then laughed. The sound escaped before he could stop it. Because honestly? That was the most Avatar reasoning imaginable. The life-ending power of lightning... And Aang's first thought was how it could help save people. The strategist shook his head, a smile appearing. 

"Sure." He agreed, knowing he'd probably regret this later, but the look on Aang's face was worth it. And, if it meant helping someone Zuko cared about, he'd do it in a heartbeat.

"Really?" Aang brightened immediately. [Y/n] simply nodded back while Zuko looked between [Y/n] and Aang with a soft, warm smile. The Avatar grinned. Sokka still looked deeply unsettled.

"I feel like we're all glossing over the part where Aang wants to shoot lightning now."

"Technically..." [Y/n] argued. "He wants to stop people from dying."

"That somehow doesn't make me feel better." The group laughed one final time. Then, finally, there were no more delays left. No more excuses. No more reasons to linger. Zuko stepped forward first. Suki followed. [Y/n] fell into step beside them. The three climbed the gangway and boarded the ship. A few minutes later, they were standing together on the deck while sailors moved around them, preparing for departure.

Below, their friends remained gathered at the end of the dock.

Aang. Katara. Sokka. Toph. Appa looming behind them. Momo perched on Aang's shoulder.

The captain called out an order. Lines were released. Sails began to unfurl. And, as the ship slowly started pulling away from the harbour, the group on the dock began waving. Sokka's was the most enthusiastic by far. Naturally. Zuko shook his head fondly and raised a hand in return. Suki waved both arms. [Y/n] found himself smiling as he did the same.

The distance between them slowly began to grow. But for the first time since arriving at the summit, none of it felt particularly sad.

Three months. Then they'd all meet again.

And judging by the chaos they'd managed to create in only a few days together, the banquet was probably going to be a disaster. Somehow, that thought made all three of them smile as the Southern Water Tribe slowly got further and further away.

For a while, the three of them simply stood at the railing. The Southern Water Tribe gradually shrank behind them. The docks became smaller. The buildings faded into the distance. Soon, the figures standing at the harbour were little more than dots against the snow.

The ocean stretched endlessly around them, interrupted only by drifting ice and the wake of the ship cutting through the water. For several minutes, nobody spoke. There wasn't really anything left to say. Not after the summit. Not after the attack. Not after everything that had happened over the last few days.

Eventually, Suki let out a long sigh and stretched her arms over her head. Several joints cracked.

"Well..." The Kyoshi Warrior glanced toward the ship. "I should probably check on my girls." The statement earned a nod from both men. Suki smiled. Then looked between them knowingly. "Try not to cause any problems while I'm gone."

"No promises." [Y/n] replied.

"That's exactly what I was afraid of." A moment later, she was gone, disappearing toward the centre of the ship where the other Kyoshi Warriors were helping settle in for the voyage, leaving Zuko and [Y/n] alone at the railing. For a few moments, neither said anything. The sea stretched endlessly before them. The cold wind tugged gently at their cloaks. Eventually, [Y/n] glanced sideways.

"You doing okay?"

The question was simple. But they both knew what it meant. Not just the departure. Everything. The summit. The attack. The investigation. The conversation in his room. All of it.

Zuko opened his mouth. Then paused. A low roar suddenly echoed across the ocean. Both men blinked.

"What was-"

The answer appeared a second later. A massive shadow swept across the deck. Crew members looked up in surprise. Several sailors shouted. Then Appa soared overhead. The sky bison passed above the ship with a powerful flap of his enormous tail. Aang was sitting at the front. Toph beside him. Both waving enthusiastically.

"SEE YOU SOON!" Aang's voice carried across the water.

"DON'T DIE, SPARKY! YOU TOO, SPARKY 2!" Toph immediately followed.

The deck fell silent. Several confused sailors looked toward Zuko. The Fire Lord immediately pointed toward Toph with a smile that radiated warmth.

"I hate her."

"NO YOU DON'T!" Toph shouted back. Appa banked sharply. The sky bison swung around the ship once before continuing west. Aang waved one final time.

"THREE MONTHS!"

Then they were gone, disappearing into the clouds almost as quickly as they'd appeared.

For several seconds, neither Zuko nor [Y/n] spoke. Then both of them started laughing. The absurdity of it all finally caught up with them. The dramatic goodbye. The sudden flyover. Toph yelling nicknames across half the ocean. It was impossible not to laugh. Eventually, Zuko shook his head. Still smiling. Still watching the distant shape of Appa vanish into the sky. Then he looked back toward the horizon.

The smile remained. Smaller now. Softer. But completely genuine.

"You know..." He leaned against the railing. For the first time in days, there wasn't a trace of tension in his shoulders. No guilt. No panic. No fear. Just contentment. The Fire Lord looked out across the ocean. Then toward the shrinking coastline behind them. And finally, toward the strategist standing beside him. "I'm feeling great."

The answer came so easily that it surprised even him. But it was true. The summit had gone horribly wrong. The investigation was far from over. The Burning Eye was still out there. There was more work waiting for them than either of them wanted to think about.

Yet somehow...

For the first time in a very long while...

Everything felt okay.

And standing there beside him, [Y/n] couldn't help smiling as well.

~*~

Taglist: @defronix @1nsan3ab0utmarv3ll @isitthemoon @technicallyasoul @strangeprincessblog @eliathblog @belladonna6-6-6 @petrinholas @professorwaid420

[chaibbun]

toji interrupts u & sukuna

fluff | frat!kuna | m!reader | biting

red solo cups are piled up in the sink, leftover clothes strewn about the place—over the backs of chairs and on couches. a few zyn pouches discarded here and there, and bottles decorate the floor. beer cans—crushed and uncrushed—are in a pile in the far corner of the room. smudges on the wall—proof of last night’s vigor and apparent lack of organization. it’s 4pm saturday, and sukuna’s frat house has transformed into a complete and utter wasteland from last night's frat party.

the gathering was meant to be something minute, straightforward, and distracting. something that wasn’t meant to end in him almost being outed to the entire fraternity.

when one of the fraters took his phone as a "challenge" and started to go through his text messages is when everything went wrong. they had stumbled across a contact name that had a simple red heart ‘♥️’ and started to go on an impromptu investigation of the messages.

kuna can't remember much of how it went down. he just remembers grabbing the phone from out of the guy's grip and cursing him out. when the guy responded with two hands in the air in surrender and a conniving grin, kuna didn't even give him a second to form a faulty excuse before rocking him right in the jaw.

toji was watching, leaned against the counter with a plastic cup of poorly-made punch in hand and a lazy grin on his face while the whole thing went down. ijichi, the fraternity’s secretary, had to break the two apart, and only with gojo’s help was he able to actually pull sukuna off the poor guy.

sukuna tolerates toji enough to call him a friend, since they've been acquainted with each other during every year of college—sharing experiences together like the two evil menaces they were. from carelessly arriving late to lectures freshman year, to being the heads of beta theta pi, and practically running jujutsu university in senior year. in junior year, it was scaring off any poor guy who attempted to apply to their frat house.

toji trusts him, too—enough to open up about his insecurities regarding the scar striking across his lip, and the background in which he grew up. these childhood factors affected toji much more than sukuna initially thought, and he was privileged with seeing toji under a certain light that most others would never be able to.

they had built a bond together, an unbreakable, brotherly bond that had been tested time and time again, and still remained unbroken. the friendship had ups and downs, whatever—however, there was a singular, outstanding, drawback that came with being best buds with toji. his tendency to just find out things—even if you tried your very best to hide them, it was like, somehow, he knew anyway.

kuna knows this best. when satoru, the frat’s newest member at the time, and school mascot, tried to hide his break up with suguru, toji found out within days.

at first he pressed slowly, just a few questions to gauge how messy the separation truly was.

“haven’t seen you with bangs guy in a minute, you two okay?” he mentioned one time while setting up a beer pong table for an upcoming party, the same one in which kuna’s fight would later break out in.

“his name’s suguru,” was the white haired nerd’s only reply as he set the low-hanging banner in place. it sounded pathetic, actually, but toji knew better than to poke fun at the poor guy’s misery, so he stepped over, and patted him roughly on the shoulder.

“don’t be so sulky, dork. you’ll be fine, you’ll get over it.” was what came out of toji’s mouth. satoru knew it was meant to be words of encouragement from toji, so he flashed a small, reassuring smile to him, and toji clapped him so hard on the back he would’ve fell forward if it weren’t for him catching himself. “there he is,” and toji went back to aligning the solo cups in triangular formations of 6—each on either side of each table.

so you can imagine what happened when toji caught kuna hanging out with you, the frat's financial advisor and probably the only reasonable member of the frat house (aside from ijichi), on multiple occasions, alone.

at first, he brushed it off. you two are in the same frat. the financial advisor and the president isn't an odd duo by any means. maybe meeting a few times to discuss logistics, maybe rooming or when the next party would be. he knows sukuna, and he’s not the type to get romantically involved with anybody, especially not someone with a title as weak as “financial advisor”.

he became more suspicious when he began to come across you two too many times. logistics meetings in cafés? discussing frat finances in the library together? frat acquaintanceship doesn't extend all the way to spending weekends at kuna's dorm.

when toji watches sukuna's contact go from 'online' to 'do not disturb 🌙', he knows something is up, and heads to kuna's dorm to check it out.

“i’ll be right back.” he calls to ijichi who’s currently bagging up empty cans. it’s not like his presence will be missed—toji wasn’t really contributing to the cleaning anyway.

m!reader!pov

sukuna, the ambiguous, forboding frat president had always caught your eye. even from day one, ever since him and his threatening, dark-haired friend had allowed you into the house under the guise that you'd be "useful for the numbers".

at the time he had never even glanced your way, and you thought that texting about how much party decorations would cost would be the closest you got to friendship—nevermind anything more. kuna was untouchable. he pretty much only socialized within the smaller circle of higher up frat elites, and very little at that.

so what you never expected was that he'd ask you out. he sent you an invitation to your café, the one where you two’d hang out “discuss costs” as sukuna usually put it. just a short, definitive message that read something like:

you will come to the café at 5 today.

you don't fully remember, but you replied something like:

our spot?

and sukuna hated himself even more as he replied:

yes. our spot.

the confession wasn’t anything grand. no flowers or teddy bears or chocolates, just sukuna paying for your sugary latte and mentioning that you’re his boyfriend now whether you like it or not right before he left.

that's how you came to love the powerful frat tyrant.

that brings you to now. cuddled up to kuna underneath the plush, cotton sheets you had bought for his bed a while ago (because despite how he presents, sukuna loves soft things). his dorm mate was no where to be found, not wanting to be caught anywhere near the massive, pink-haired guy because after all, he was still the same intimidating senior—just in softer fabrics now.

the moment is utter bliss. kuna's arms in a grip around your waist, large fingers meeting in front on your belly. you never pegged kuna to be the cuddly type, but when he was alone with you, his entire brand of mysterious and intimidating came pathetically crumbling down.

"ijichi told me you got into a fight at the party last night,” you chuckle to yourself, tracing absent patterns on his forearm. “god i would’ve loved to be there.”

“shut the hell up, brat.” he murmurs against you, biting into the spot between your ear and your collarbone. you yelp a little, “kuna!” and he apologizes with a nip to the earlobe. his voice is still a deep rumble, but he tries his best to soften it for you. “no more comments. be quiet.”

the dorm is quiet for a few moments before you hear the door unlocking. it takes whoever’s out there a few tries to actually twist the lock and open the door, which means it must be toji. he’s also the only one (besides yourself) who has a spare key. sukuna immediately stiffens behind you.

before sukuna even knows it, toji’s barging into the room. he stops dead in his tracks when he sees how snuggled up the two of you are, and a slow grin creeps onto his face.

kuna bristles, while you, on the other hand, are completely oblivious to the “secret” nature of your relationship. you just thought sukuna was low-key about everything.

“this is what the two of you are up to while everyone else is cleaning the house, huh?” he leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his broad chest. he takes a slow look over of the two of you, taking a mental snapshot of the scary frat king currently cuddled up to the quiet guy who now holds a higher position than just “financial advisor”.

“i’ll let you two have your little morning time.” he says lowly, before leaving just as quick as he came.

sukuna, face pinker than his own dyed undercut, buries his face in your neck. you just giggle to yourself again. “turns out escaping to me after your disaster of a party wasn’t a good idea after all.” he pinches your side. his words are still rough, but there’s not genuine bite to them. “i said no more comments.”

a/n: idk what the point of adding the house being trashed in the first paragraph was it's kinda just there myb 😭😭

i wrote this on my phone so don’t mind if anything’s different or off 💔

[kitorin]

with you.

in which, after years of inhabiting lohen's lonely dreams, you finally return to mondstadt. he finds himself overflowing with joy and relief—until he realises you brought a friend, one you were very close with; one he now deemed his greatest rival.

part two to paper dandelion! but this works as standalone too (i think?)

contents. lohen x gn!reader, childhood friends + reunion, happy ending, fluff, crack (kinda), angst, 12k words, lohen story quest spoilers, (possibly) suggestive, thoma's your close friend, lots and lotssss of jealousy and he's kinda pathetic but it's ok, jokes about killing people/kys, mentions of gore (? offering seppuku as an apology but not actually doing it), swearing, alcohol and getting drunk, mentions of poisoning, lohen jumping to conclusions, doesn't follow genshin timeline/events, no beta we die like adorno

thank you for everyone's patience! much love to you all :) tags: @swivi, @pjselee, @danielapuppy41, @sksjdkksjsjsh

Despite a considerable amount of time passing since the treacherous Nod Krai expedition, Lohen found himself unable to adapt to the amiable streets of Mondstadt again.

Mondstadt City was dreadfully uncomfortable. It lacked the Favonius Keep's prerequisite of strength and constant vigilance, and the thrill which accompanied. Mondstadt was pathetic in comparison to the perils of the Nod Krai and its beasts. The expectation to be alert was no longer, now earning Lohen absentminded comments to 'relax' and resurfacing rumours of his insanity.

His colleagues earnt shrivelled up expressions of disgust, a violent shudder would pounce on his spine whenever he saw how relaxed they were, drinking their hearts out 'til midnight and puking out on the streets.

(If getting wasted was so necessary, at least remain somewhat competent—Lohen counted twelve opportunities for Gunther to get killed as he stumbled away from the Angel's Share the other night; he should've been grateful it was Lohen judging him, and not a member of the Fatui.)

Human life was fragile, it expired early and death pounced on the nearest person without mercy, and never took breaks, thus, neither should humans. 

Today, was no exception to Lohen's discomfort.

He arrived to work late—as always, greeting Mika on his way to the Grandmaster's Office with a lazy wave before slouching into his seat, where an obscene stack of paperwork awaited him. The quill between his fingers was abnormally heavy, and Varka's gaze wouldn't leave him.

"Y'know. You don't have to stare me down that hard."

He scoffed, crossing his arms. "Brat. Who's the one who shortened your confinement?"

For once, Lohen kept his mouth shut, deciding the Grandmaster deserved his best behaviour. It was the least he could do

Solitary confinement, you managed to make tolerable. He wrote of everything to you, from details of his Nod Krai expedition to Adorno's passing and his punishment, scrawling away to process what happened, and to pass the time. Though his solitude remained true, writing to you was essentially the same as company. Day melted into night when he thought of you. He had to regularly call for more paper, only when his words to you reached a length rivaling the novellas of the Favonius Library, Varka convinced Jean to mitigate his punishment. On the basis of his good behaviour, he argued that he deserved the privacy to mourn Adorno, and mail his letter to you. Lohen was free to return home and live normally, at the expense of strict supervision and paperwork during his hours.

(You remained to be a blessing. First, giving Lohen the best childhood and teenage years, and now you were bailing him out of punishment, without even being in the nation.)

Lohen missed you, a lot. Absurdly so. Mountains and oceans apart, you were in Inazuma, where he hoped you felt the same.

Six years was too long. In the first year, he went strong, told himself that you'd be back in no time and that letters were sufficient. By the second, he was going even more insane than he already was, actively searching out ruin guards to bully at Stormbearer Mountains in the dead of night as stress relief.

He wanted to touch you, feel your skin against his and to listen to you rant and laugh—a melody that no choir could ever recreate. He wanted to pinch your cheeks again and watch them redden. He missed how you'd cling onto him whenever you got scared, and he wished he was there for every adversity you were facing over there. He wished he could watch how much happier you were becoming with his open two eyes, instead of reading it with months delayed.

Lohen wanted you. Not your letters. Those wouldn't come sleep over when the nightmares became too much, nor bandage his injuries when they were placed so awkwardly. They capture only your handwriting and nothing else. He would’ve forgotten your voice long ago, had he not thought about you constantly, reciting memories like prayer.

Confinement to letters wouldn't be so bad if he didn't have to wait months for mail to arrive. Letters only satiated so much. And they were volatile—who knows if the mailman would drop either one of your letters, or if storm strikes down the ship it sails on. Only Barbatos himself would know of what happens to them.

(With every victory, you came to mind first. Varka and Jean read of it first through paperwork, then word of mouth would inform the rest of the knights. Sometimes it reached the citizens of Mondstadt.

The best Lohen could do was write it for you first, and pretend it was the same as finding you in your favourite spot at the library, or knocking on your window to demand your attention. In his head, you were the first to know because he wanted you to be. It was far better than agreeing with reality.)

After hearing of his complaints, you opted to mailing him a diary, a collection of thoughts and stories you wanted to share with him, organised by date. Inside, you sandwiched a response to the letter he'd send, alongside folded papercraft (known as 'origami', you said). Lohen built a small bookshelf for these, adorning his empty bedroom with your days.

His gaze wandered to the window, surely he could keep his mind preoccupied. There should've been something remotely interesting to watch—the statue of Barbatos stood proud, as always, welcoming all to the open arms of Mondstadt. Towards the bottom was Barbara, serenading a group of people. That stupid, green bard was nearby, and Lohen rolled his eyes and decided it was time to stop looking outside.

His quill hauled itself across the page, leaving the mere date in its trail.

You can do it, I'll wait for you!

Lohen sculpted every drifting thought into an illusion of you, imagining you were there with him, seated on the couch across the room, waiting for him to finish so the two of you could go skip rocks at Cider Lake.

(Back in the day, Adorno would give you guys 'homework', insisting that puzzles were good for your brain. Your logic flowed as seamlessly as your hands, finishing his tasks with ease; Lohen couldn't say the same for himself. Adorno had to give you guys separate worksheets, since you'd simply give the answers to Lohen.)

The room was drained of its sunlight, fading into a soft pink. Every scratch of his quill against the parchment whittled time away. Varka didn't need to snap at him, and

He finds himself connecting his letters. You wrote in cursive ever since you were little, and still did—

Fuck, his concentration was breaking. What he haphazardly glued together were falling apart, shattering into even smaller bits and pieces.

He tried to fall back on his initial tactic, but all he could think of was how different you must've looked by now. You mentioned getting much more exercise. Did you bulk up, or were you the kind to slim down? Maybe you managed to grow a few centimetres, or perhaps you had a tan now? He had no idea what the weather was like over there.

He was unable to conjure an image of you, only wonder and curiosity, and a desperation to see you once more. Questions blurred his vision and hypotheticals presented possibilities without rest. His energy and attention slipped away, leaving him to soak in his pathetic longing.

"Fuuuuuck offff." Lohen slouched onto the table, cheek resting against the cold, polished wood. He entertained the thought of smashing his head into the table until he was out cold, that way, he wouldn't have to do paperwork, nor be forced to cope with the fact that he couldn't see you.

The stupid pile of paperwork was just as prominent, and infuriating, as his inability to focus. Why couldn't you leave him alone?

(Stupid fucking Barbatos. If the god of freedom out of all beings out there couldn't bring you back, he could've at least freed him of this constant craving of you. This was exactly why Lohen hated gods and refused to partake in anything religious)

Then there was the Sakoku Decree too. You insisted the Vision Hunt Decree only targeted Vision wielders, that you were safe and he had nothing to worry about, but Lohen did the exact opposite. A dictator was never honest, a leader that would approve of such policy would not be one fit to protect its people. Those stuck in Inazuma, including you, requested the help of the Knights to return home, though they were fruitless.

Any resemblance of concentration was long gone. It abandoned him the moment he thought of you again, leaving him to spiral.

Varka's heavy footsteps approached him, his large hands sifting through the paperwork Lohen had (somehow) managed to complete successfully. "...not bad. I've never seen you do so much. And your handwriting's neat." Lohen peeled himself off the desk with disheveled hair, and hollow eyes begging Varka for freedom. "You've done enough, I don't like paperwork too. Good improvement."

For a brute that drank like a fish, he was surprisingly thoughtful.

"I'm gonna kill myself."

The Grandmaster chuckled, ruffling the Vice Captain's hair and patting him on the shoulder. "Paperwork does that, kid."

Dusk stained Mondstadt pink. Remains of day bled everywhere, as Lohen walked across stone pavement alongside Varka, watching over children that chased each other by the fountain. The Good Hunter kept many company, its patrons howling with laughter and cheersing obscenely large tankards. His fingers twitched at his sides, missing their skinship with his dagger and lance, while the wind caressed his face.

Doing paperwork was so awful, that Lohen considered getting drunk, calculating whether the vulnerability would be worth the mindless bliss of being wasted—there had to be a reason why everyone in Mondstadt loved beer, and why even the Grandmaster himself had no problem with drinking to his very limits.

"So." He drawled, itching to leave the city and head to Wolvendom to fight something. "Why am I here again?"

"Because you're under supervision. And I need a beer." The man groaned, stretching an arm and scratching his back. "You look like you need a drink."

"A fight, you mean."

Varka slapped him on the back, enough force to almost make him fall over. "Be grateful I didn't make you do my paperwork too, hm? Maybe it's a good thing you didn't become captain. You wouldn't last a day." Before Lohen could retort, something else grabbed Varka's attention. "Be right back—someone looks lost." A finger pointed forwards, Lohen's halflidded eyes didn't bother tracking them as he let out a wordless grunt.

Maybe now was a good chance to run off. And if Varka tried to get him into trouble again, he'd snitch on Varka to Jean for drinking.

He took an analytical glance at Varka, only for his heart to freeze on the spot.

The sun had already set, yet you managed to glow in its absence.

Lohen's feet didn't move, they couldn't—all that went through his head was relief, leaving him in a stupor.

The world went silent, all that was nonessential melted into nothingness. What remained was you, with wide eyes marveled by your home city again.

You. Here. In Mondstadt. Where Lohen was.

You didn't look so different, contrary to all the different theories he had conjured in his curious boredom. You must've lost a bit of weight from travelling so much, but you looked stronger overall. Your smile was bright, as always, only this time it made Lohen choke on his own spit, and question if he had really lost it.

The Vice Captain of the Fifth Company does not cry. However, he'd make an exception for you.

His body finally awoke, and he took a step towards you. And another. Until he could hear you.

You were looking up at Varka, a bit unsettled by the height difference, but friendly nonetheless. "Oh—I'm from here, it's just been a long time. I haven't spoken the language in a while too. I might be lost..."

Lohen didn't even get to say hi, before you pounced on him.

"Oh my god—" Your voice hitched, on the brink of crumbling into tears. "I missed you so much."

Your arms wrapped tightly around his waist and he squirmed—the closest to hugging he ever did was wrestling new recruits, who could never lay a hand on him.

(But his arms reciprocated, carefully feeling your back as he held onto you. It felt harder than before, your working out must've paid off. The muscle was warm, even through your clothes and his gloves.)

He still couldn't speak. No words would come out, immobilised by his shock. All he did was nuzzle his chin into your shoulder and rediscover your warmth.

"Ahem." Varka cleared his throat, immediately pulling you out of your hug. You scrambled to stand straight, glowing a furious red while muttering out apologies. Varka mirrored your words, saying that he hates to ruin your moment.

(Stupid old man. Lohen wasn't nearly as big as enough to throw him into the fountain, unfortunately. He was going to up his dosage of poison next time. He'll spit in his next beer while he's at it, too.)

As if he wasn't going through every emotion he yearned for, Lohen deadpanned, droning at his boss. "Yeah?"

"You guys...friends?"

You answered first. "Yup! I haven't seen him since before I left."

Lohen thought that was sufficient for his question. "You're back...how—? The decree—you never said anything about returning."

Joy scrunched your face. "It ended a while back. I wanted to surprise you, so I didn't write about it."

(Lohen was young, and very much in great shape, but he thought shock was going to force his heartbeat to a halt. He now owes Barbatos for every time he cussed him out bitterly in his head.)

"You're back..." He repeated.

"I am!"

Besides you, Varka cocked a brow. "Decree? You mean Inazuma?"

You nodded. And Varka went pale. He took a step closer to you.

"You must've been scared. Being trapped in the country. I heard about everything that happened over there." Varka was solemn, regret clouded his face and his voice went dry.

You shook your head. "Things have gotten better over there. It feels normal again." There wasn't a sign of dishonesty, but Varka sank down to a knee regardless, hand over his chest.

"I'm sorry we couldn't do anything. Even though it's our role as knights to protect the people of Mondstadt, we couldn't save you guys. As Grandmaster, I failed you all."

He must've been referring to all the letters that were sent, from merchants to separated family members, asking for help and some sort of intervention.

(Lohen used to press his ear against Varka’s door, picking up bits and pieces of his discussions with Jean on what to do, though now wasn't the time to admit that.)

You were flustered at the chivalrous act, frantically glancing around at the stares you were receiving. "It's not your fault—the shogun and her people aren't fond of foreigners. Please don't kneel—"

Lohen rolled his eyes and tapped Varka's calf, bordering on a kick. "You heard 'em. You're embarrassing us."

Now flustered, Varka stood, rubbing the back of his head. "I still feel bad. Adorno was upset when he found out what happened. He even considered sailing all the way there to negotiate on our behalf."

(Lohen remembers that. When he came running to Adorno to lament about the news, the man was equally as heartbroken. While Lohen panicked, Adorno was already planning to use his retirement funds for an expedition there.)

Your eyes lit up. "Speaking of Adorno—how has he been?"

Lohen's throat closed up, before glancing at Varka.

Adorno's grave was still clean from last time he stopped by. That was good.

The cecilia was beginning to wilt, a light brown began permeating its white petals. He's surprised the wind hadn't blown it away—maybe Barbatos was good for something after all.

The two of you were behind the Cathedral, Adorno's final resting place where many lay peacefully. Daylight was no more, and the cold bit at his face.

His gaze trailed over to you, where you were frozen in the evening, staring at the stone cross. "I wrote about it to you. You just got here before it could arrive."

You said nothing in response, blinking slower than usual.

He sucked in a sharp breath of air. "Do not stand by my grave and cry. My life, I gave to wipe tears dry." Lohen recited Adorno's final words, the last wish he made before his passing. He took a step closer, too apprehensive to dare touch you yet. "There's no need to be sad. It was painless, and peaceful. He was gettin' old, too."

Adorno, in bed, life and colour long gone from his face. Despite tethering on the borders of life and death, his wrinkled hands were abnormally warm, far more than the campsites of their expedition. Lohen's eyes burnt and his nose felt funny, but he subsided it for the sake of his last wish.

"But. If you need to cry, go ahead. I won't tell him." Lohen's hand rested on the small of your back. "We can go around the corner for a bit. And come back. O–Or I can give you some time alone if you need—?"

"—no. I'll stay." You scrunched your nose and blinked hard, but you didn't cry. "It's been too long."

So you sat down, and Lohen joined you.

"It was his health, wasn't it? You said he was getting worse a while back. 'm surprised he lived for that long." You murmured, squinting at the date of birth and death. "He only passed recently."

Lohen prepared himself to tell the whole story. His gloves felt uncomfortably stuffy before he told you everything.

By the end of it, your eyes were wide as saucers, bewildered at it all.

"Yeah." He wasn't proud of it, but it felt worse admitting it to you, out of all people. Had you been there at the time, you would've told someone immediately, out of pure concern for everyone's wellbeing. "I wrote it all down for you during my solitary confinement. Haven't even seen Theodore since then. He probably got longer than me."

(He should pay a visit, he thought to himself. Though Theodore was the main instigator, without Lohen, he wouldn't have made it that far. He wonders how he's been doing.)

You, were still processing everything. "So you and Theodore...injected Adorno with Ursa's flesh...the same stuff that we were supposed to be experimented on for?”

Lohen nodded.

"And you were the test subject?"

"Yeah."

"Are you stupid? Why would you willingly do that to yourself?"

You hit him in the shoulder, with a new kind of strength you didn't have last time he met you. "I know—I don't feel good about it either. I was desperate, and y'know, I thought it'd make me stronger, since Ursa's a dragon and all, and whatever. But yeah. It was stupid. I don't really regret it, though. Got to talk to Adorno for a bit longer, and the whole thing helped me accept I was weak.”

He stared at his outstretched palm, where he had pierced with his dagger. Ursa's screams echoed in his skull, and he squeezed his eyelids tight to ignore it. She was dormant, but his fears weren't. At the end of the day, he was nothing more than a mortal.

You nudged him. "I don't think you're weak. Acknowledging it makes you stronger than most people. And I don't think you were wrong for wanting Adorno to live longer."

Lohen shrugged. "I'm only strong among the weak. I'm nothing compared to the people I've met." Racher of Solnari. The Honorary Knight. Even Varka, the Grandmaster—those who belonged in fairytales and legends to be passed down from generation to generation. They all existed in a realm separate to Lohen's, a random boy who almost fell victim to a harbinger. "I'll get there. Someday. Just not today. I won't do anything like that again, old man."

(Of course, the grave did not respond. But he imagines Adorno ruffling his hair and telling him he was proud of Lohen.)

As long as he didn't lose sight of his goals, nor himself. Lohen had no need for power he couldn't control, for it wouldn't be known as power anymore—only poison.

You agreed with a hum. "You better not. You can't get stronger if you're dead."

Lohen let out a dry chuckle, then silence spoke next.

The wind got colder, though gentle, the grass danced alongside it. Fireflies paid a visit, some fascinated by the gravestones that stood tall, others preferred the flowers gifted to them. Day was no longer, aside from the dainty lights of streetlamps standing guard and the lantern sitting nearby, there was no light.

"Your turn." Lohen nudged you.

"What?"

"Tell him all about Inazuma. He wants to know how you've been doing. This time from you, and not the letters you sent over."

(Lohen never shut up about you, Adorno was the closest thing to a father for him, so naturally, he endured the most of his rambling. You'd write him something as simple as "I love sashimi" and Lohen managed to turn it into an essay's worth of conversation, pondering to Adorno on how he could prepare some as a gift to your return, or marveling at how the people of Inazuma ate fish raw, commending their bravery and immune systems.

Adorno often joked that you wouldn't be able to tell him anything about your time away, since he'd have already heard it from Lohen too.)

"You don't have to say it out loud. I just say it in my head if I don't want someone else to hear." He clarified. "Or you can pay another visit next time, if y'know, you need time to process?"

You shook your head. "I'm alright—I just don't know where to start."

"Wherever you want."

You took a deep breath, Lohen noticed the ever so slight tremble. "Hi Adorno. Long time no see." He leaned back on his palms, watching you tell your story. "I've gotten a lot better. Like really better, the psychologist I was seeing was actually a youkai. It's a kind of spirit from Inazuma and..."

...you told Adorno of Yumemizuki Mizuki, the dream eating tapir, and your psychologist, whom you held a world of gratitude for. You shared your progress, from learning to open up about your past to no longer having nightmares.

The story trailed to your job. It started as Mizuki providing you work at her bathhouse, a role where you prepared their snacks and meals for her clients. It was life-changing, as you described it. You let Adorno know that he didn't have to worry for your future, the job had given you the confidence to pursue culinary school, and you'd been financially stable by yourself ever since. Your career had given you a sense of direction, and you finally felt you belonged in the world.

"Having money's a lot of fun, to be honest. I'm glad I could finally do something for my parents with it."

Your words were soft, yet it strangled Lohen violently.

It was a long time ago, but there was a time where you cried more often than you smiled. Regrettably, you had argued over it. Multiple times.

I hate being so useless. I wish I wasn't a burden to everyone.

The fuck are you talking about? Lohen usually snapped, a tone he wished remained foreign to you. If you need money I'll give it to you. Stop beating yourself up over a stupid job. It wasn't worth your time if everyone there picked on you, was it? Your boss was a piece of shit anyways.

Nausea hit him in a violent wave. He always apologised without fail and you talked things out properly, but he knows he shouldn't lose control. Not towards the people he loves.

"...now that the Sakoku Decree's lifted, I'm back here." You concluded, look back at Adorno with a smile. "I'm probably going to...Lohen? Are you crying?"

Only then, did Lohen notice the wetness on his cheeks.

"No—" He lifted his half cape to conceal his face, recompose himself, and blame it on his dandelion allergy that he'd killed off years ago, but you were faster, prying his wrists away.

Your eyelids fluttered, as if you were the one crying instead. "Is it Adorno...?" You let his wrists go and crawled closer, soft thumbs wiping his tears away.

He shook his head, vision blurring with more tears. "It's yo—you, you're so happy now. And I dunno—I just feel relieved." His sinuses began to clog. "I thought of every time you cried and talked badly about yourself. And then I thought about whenever I lost my temper at you. And now I feel like shit. " His voice crumbled to nothing but weak sobbing. Lohen aggressively rubbed his eyes, as if he could rid of his tears that way.

Your last night in Mondstadt, six years ago, flashed in his head. Your posture was slumped, a contrast to how you stood tall today. He didn’t have to work for a full smile from you, it replaced the half-assed one you donned to cover up your feelings.

(Lohen wasn't sure what was fluttering in his stomach. Pride? Relief? A hybrid of both? He knew you were far more capable than you deemed yourself to be, so he wasn't sure why he was getting so emotional.)

His tears died down, and you wiped each and every one of them, until they were no more. Your hands remained on his cheeks, holding them, before giving them a gentle pinch.

"Nmmph?"

"Your skin's so soft!" You pinched again, this time tugging on his cheeks. "You really haven't changed. You're just a bigger version of your little self."

(Lohen would've smited anyone else who tried to touch him like this, or made such a patronising comment about him. And although you were the sole exception, he'd also never admit he likes being coddled like this.)

"You're sooo cute." You let go of his cheeks, leaving him feeling bare. Your skin was no longer on his, but his face remained warm. "It's okay though. I told you, I'd be back as a happier person."

He nodded, sick of how he sounded when he spoke. The quiver in his voice was nothing short of embarrassing and pathetic. He watched you shiver, hugging your knees tighter for any sort of comfort.

Lohen sniffled. "You're cold. Sorry, not tryna change the topic or anything. But you're shaking."

The moment you became aware of it, it seemed to intensify. "A bit. It rained a lot on the way here."

He sighed, huddling closer to wrap his cloak around you. "You should've rested first then, before doing anything."

"Probably." You coughed a couple times, pressing closer to him. "I got too excited though. I'll just eat a bunch of ginger."

Lohen huffed, guiding you to stand up. "I'm not going anywhere, neither is Adorno. Let's get you home."

You didn't resist, dusting off your knees. "Alright, alright—see you Adorno." You gave the grave one last stare. "And thank you for everything. Without you, today wouldn't have existed for me. For us."

A solemn nod from Lohen, and he silently agreed.

As you walked into the night, you gasped, peering down at the city before walking down the cobblestone stairs. “It’s so pretty. Look at all the lights from everyone’s house—oooh, and the stars!”

Lohen watched you smile. “Yeah. It’s beautiful. Very.”

“I missed Mondstadt.” You declared, jumping down each step one at a time.

(And Lohen missed you. Dearly so.)

“Mondstadt missed you too.” He murmured, a gloved hand reaching out for you, just in case you tripped or hurt yourself.

Together, you walked down the empty streets of Mondstadt City. The working week hadn't ended yet, leaving the city quiet and desolate, Lohen preferred this over seeing drunk men cheer and trip over their own feet.

"Where are you staying?"

(Though he appreciates your surprise return, he wishes you would've told him. Not only he thought he was having a heart attack, but he wanted to let you stay at his place—show off the fruits of his efforts and be the best host he could.

His shock died down, and now all he could think of was his confession to you. The moment he sends you back to your place, he was going to launch into frenzied brainstorming.)

"I'm renting a place at the moment."

His paranoia flared, questioning whose property it was. Shady landlords always targeted foreigners. Obviously, you weren’t one, but anyone could easily treat you as one after how long you were gone for.

But he didn't want to intrude. You’re smart enough to be cautious of scammers. "You could've stayed in my place. I moved into a bigger house since you left." He says, as if he hadn't told you this over parchment and ink already.

You chuckled, a tune he was addicted to. "I know, but I told you, I wanted this to be a surprise. The rent isn't too bad."

Maybe it was better that you weren't staying at his place. It gave Lohen better opportunity to figure out how he wanted to declare his love. It'd be awful if you walked into his preparations.

"Whatever you say."

Past the Good Hunter you turned, and there it was. You pointed to a building, it wasn't anything grand, but felt excessive for only one person to live in.

"We're here. Thanks again for walking me home." You grinned before sneezing, immediately covering your nose with your palm. The other hand fumbled through a pocket for a tissue.

"Geez—I thought you said your cold wasn't that bad?"

Before Lohen could speak, another voice reached for you.

The door to your house was open, and out came a man. He was tall, short, blond hair propped up by a black hairband. He donned a red jacket, over a tight, black shirt decorated by a silver dog tag.

Down the stairs he hurried, to check up on you and nag about your health.

Who the fuck is this?

After blowing your nose properly, you recomposed yourself, standing straight. "Sorry—I didn't think I'd be out this late." You looked back at Lohen. "Right. Lohen, this is Thoma." You gestured to the man besides you, who waved politely at Lohen, resembling a carefree dog. "Thoma, this is Lohen."

What the fuck is Thoma?

Despite being a man of quick decisions and logic, Lohen had little coherency in his thoughts.

"Nice to meet you, Lohen!" Thoma reached a hand out, and Lohen took far too long to reciprocate with his own. "Thanks for walking y/n home."

Were you seeing someone? This guy?

"Uh—yeah, no worries. Anytime."

No, he's jumping to conclusions. Friends travel and live together—

An aggressive shade of red dusted over your cheeks, reaching even your ears. "I'll see you soon. Thanks again." You quickly turned away from Lohen, ushering Thoma inside, muttering something about being cold.

With a final wave, you were inside. Through the window, he could see your blurry figures talk, and muffled laughter slipped out.

Lohen's expertise was vast, but was not applicable to romance in the slightest. However, everyone knows that a blush that deep had to indicate something, a crush, possibly even love, considering how far you had traveled together.

Paralysed and cold, he stood there, a storm of frantic thought brewing in his head. There's no way you guys were dating, right? You would've told him if someone had asked you out, or if you had a crush in the works. But what if this was another surprise?

For a brief moment, he pictured you guys on a date, and was met with immediate nausea.

(He was going to kill "Thoma", or whatever his name was, if it was the last thing he'd do.)

Since then, he was oddly provoked by Thoma, despite his polite demeanour and warmth.

When he returned home, he laid in bed and tried to rationalise the situation.

You. "Thoma". Dating?

Oh my god—what if you were married? Lohen didn't notice any rings on you, but you guys were reaching that age. You could've been intending on it, or maybe you packed your engagement ring away, all that’s valuable doesn’t belong in the open.

He buried his face into a nearby pillow, 

It's not like you've ever loved him back that way, nor did you vow to remain single forever (not that it'd even matter—you're allowed to change your mind whenever), but he felt a sliver of betrayal. If he was going to get rejected, he at least wanted to stand a good chance, rather than being nations away.

Lohen dismissed the thought, reminding himself to simply ask next time he saw you before preparing to go to sleep.

The next morning at work, he earned nothing short of concern and judgement.

"What even happened to you?" Eula commented, poking Lohen's head. His cheek was pressed up against the wooden table, neglected paperwork somewhere off to the side and his quill laid just as dead.

He heard Amber come over, too. "Dunno. He looked awful when he got here, then he kinda just gave up after the Grandmaster went out for lunch. Lohennn, are you alright?"

"Is traveling from nation to nation and living with each other a couple's thing to do?"

The two women paused. Amber spoke first. "I guess so...?"

Lohen's fist pounded the table. "I'm gonna kill that bastard."

With a worried, 'let's give him some time', Eula guided Amber away.

He finally sat up, eyelids fighting for their life to remain open. All he did was spiral instead of sleep, conjuring up all sorts of wacky possibilities. It tortured him until morning, and skipping work wasn't a luxury either, considering how he was already in trouble.

He slouched again, this time his chin resting on his forearms. He closed his eyes, hoping for a quick power nap before Varka could yell at him.

Eula came into the room again, heavy boots stomping and interrupting his attempted nap. He didn't react, until she knocked aggressively on the table.

"Fuck…I was trying to slee—"

From behind Eula you peered at him, an awkward smile plastered on your face.

'You have a visitor.' She said, then she turned to you. "Sorry about him. He hates paperwork."

He was tempted to interject, insisting that he wasn't that bad with paperwork, it was stupid Thoma's fault. All he did was tiredly squint, and burn with shame.

"Should I...come back another time? Work seems hectic."

He shook his head, excessively, leaving his bangs in his face. "No—what's up?" Frantic, he adjusted them,  

"I just...wanted to see you. And I have something I need to show you."

(It wasn't an engagement ring, was it?)

Lohen's gaze flitted around before returning to you. If he concentrated hard enough and made the most of his desperation, he'd get all this paperwork done. Hopefully soon. "Okay. Yeah that's fine. Just give me a bit more time, I'll be done soon."

The throbbing in his temples disagreed with him.

"Your library's so nice, I had a fun time talking to Lisa."

Lohen himself was impressed with his own performance. He powered through paperwork, a perfect balance of speed, and care, as to avoid being scolded and ordered to redo it all from scratch.

The fresh air helped out a bit, it woke him up and forced his eyes to stay alert. Being so openly weak was stressing him out, even with the confines of Mondstadt City and its walls, he couldn't help but worry about whether he'd be able to defend the two of you if anything happened.

"Lisa? Yeah she's alright..." He rubbed his eye, fervently.

Your hand clasped around his wrist. "You'll hurt your eye if you do that...did you not sleep enough?"

Not at all, actually. "Somethin' like that." His eye begged to be scratched again, but he held back for your sake. "Had...things on my mind."

You released him and nodded slowly. "Is being a knight that hard?"

(Being a knight was fine. Possibly having an unrequited love was far worse and nothing in comparison.)

He made an incoherent noise, before changing the topic. "Where are we going?"

"Back to mine." You smiled, and the exhaustion clinging onto his eyelid was beginning to fade. "I have stuff for you."

Lohen's face soured. Not at the thought of you, nor whatever you wanted to show him, but at Thoma. Lohen thinks he's going to throw up if he has to think about you two again.

"Wouldn't...Thoma be upset? Isn't he staying there as well? Don’t wanna intrude on you guys."

You shook your head. "He's visiting his mother today. Plus, he's a really sweet person, I'm sure you'd like him too.”

Lohen thinks not. "Are you guys like...friends?"

A pause filled the air. "I guess you could call it that. We met at culinary school."

(So are you dating or not? What kind of answer was that?)

Lohen nodded. He decided to take what he could get, and appreciate that he wouldn't have to see you and Thoma together, whatever your relationship was. He can worry about Thoma when he’s not sleep deprived and barely holding himself up. As you walked the familiar route from yesterday together, he found himself wincing whenever sunlight came too close for his liking, another predicament, alongside his brooding.

‘Oh yeah. I forgot to ask, but how are your parents doing?”

Lohen shrugged.

“Still not talking to them?”

“Yup.” He had no need for them or their ways. The most he did was pay a visit on their birthdays, dropping off a gift and a letter. He popped by on holidays, too, limiting conversation to basic greetings. You questioned it no further, just the way Lohen liked it—it was refreshing for someone to accept the way he lived, rather than yapping on about the importance of family and blood. “Yours?”

“They’re good. Turns out they prefer Inazuma far more than here.”

Lohen liked your parents, it was a shame they didn’t come with you. You inherited your kindness from your mother, who’d always encourage Lohen to come over for a meal whenever, and you had the same understanding as your father. Lohen never confided to him with his familial issues, yet he provided more insight on his situations than anyone else. He wished he could say hi again.

“What about you?” You haven’t told him exactly what you were doing here. “Are you just visiting?”

“Kind of? I’m planning to stay here for a bit. I don’t have a concrete plan.” You hummed, as the wind fluffed up your hair. “Might travel around, now that I’m not in the middle of nowhere.”

Good. That granted him a decent amount of time to confess to you.

 “Well, let me know when you figure it out. I want to hear all about it.”

The house you were staying in came into view, but the sound of crying snapped your neck towards it. “What happened?”

Lohen scanned the vicinity, nearby was a child, a young boy, wailing and clutching at his bloodied knee. You wasted no time, rushing to his side. 

“Are you okay?”

The kid cried some more.

Lohen joined you two. “Can you walk, kid?”

His tears didn’t stop, but he planted his small hands against your shoulders and pushed himself with a heave, biting his lip and gluing his eyes shut.

The kid turned to Lohen and nodded.

You inspected the graze. It appeared fine, with no visible dirt, and it was relatively shallow. “Well done. That must’ve hurt a lot, hm?”

He nodded. “It still does…”

With a subtle frown, you dug through your pockets, bringing out a small bag. “Want some candy? It’ll make you feel better.”

(Lohen wanted to ask for one too, but he refrained.)

As you tugged the pouch open, the kid deadpanned. “Mummy said I shouldn’t accept candy from strangers.”

Lohen couldn’t help but snicker, turning his face away to hide his amusement. “Smart kid—” He placed a hand on his back. “Mummy and Daddy are raising you right, hm?”

The kid stared back with judgement. Now it was your turn to laugh.

(Who knew kids were so unfiltered? Lohen knew kids were difficult, but looking back, he must’ve been a nightmare for every adult in the vicinity.)  

“Sage—I told you not to run.”

The woman’s voice almost echoed across the city, frantic and booming. The boy reacted immediately, hobbling into her arms and resuming his crying. You both stood up as well.

“C’mon, what do you say to the nice couple?” She urged him to say thank you, and the boy reluctantly turned around, hands still clinging onto her clothes. “Thank you for looking out for him…oh, you must be a knight?”

She looked Lohen up and down, he saluted in response. “Yes. Your son should be fine, as long as you clean and bandage it. It doesn’t appear to be serious.” It felt wrong, performing his formalities in front of you. He reserved this tone for diplomatic meetings, where pissing off an official could ruin an entire agreement, not the gentle streets of Mondstadt City, where you could speak to anyone as if they were close friends.

The woman sighed, and thanked you as well. “You guys would make wonderful parents.”

Your eyes grew wide. “P–parents?”

“Yeah.” She repeated, as if it were common sense. “Aren’t you a couple?” 

(See? Even the citizens of Mondstadt knew you two would be a great pair. Fuck you, Thoma.)

You corrected her with a stutter and flustered cheeks. “N–no ma’am.”

She was unbothered by it, and seemingly unconvinced as well. “Oh. What a shame, you seem to be close to each other.” With a final goodbye, she walked away with her son, excusing herself with needing to prepare dinner early tonight.

Together, you watched them return home. “Aw. I wanted him to taste test my candy.” The pouch laid in your hands and you frowned. “I didn’t know kids were so…sassy, nowadays.”

Giddy from the woman’s assumption, Lohen leaned closer. “I’m always here. I’ll eat anything and everything.” A random kid wouldn’t appreciate it as much as him, anyways. Those would eat anything as long as there’s enough colour and sugar.

You smiled. “Of course you will. You can try some after I show you what I planned out for you.”

A grin crept onto his lips. With anticipation akin to a child’s, Lohen followed you into your house like a puppy, overflowing with joy. 

When he reached your living room, you stopped him, slipping behind the knight before encasing his eyes with your hands. They were soft, and warm, nothing in comparison to the calluses that inhabited his palms. “You’ll keep it a surprise, right?”

He despised the unpredictable and unknown, but he nodded and his eyelids shut willingly. “Of course.” 

By his hand, you led him through the place, until coming to a stop. 

 “Open.” You requested. Then he obeyed.

Lohen blinked. It was just a living room. A bit bare, but it was a normal living room. There were crates stacked in a corner, presumably the belongings you and Thoma brought to Mondstadt.

He began sweating, wondering if he was just being incredibly dense. “Am I…?

You pointed to the corner, scurrying towards it and grabbing the closest one. “Souvenirs. For you. I probably should’ve considered how you were going to bring it home…”

Souvenirs? Those crates could probably carry every possession to his name.

“Come here—” You ushered him closer, placing the crate on the floor and prying off the lid. 

He crouched beside you. “A crate is a lot for souvenirs, isn’t it?”

“Is it too much? These are all for you.”

(Lohen has infiltrated illegal auctions. Embarked on trecherous journey to the lawless nation of Nod Krai. Even went face to face with a sinner of Khaenri’ah. But he’s never felt more lost than right now, at this moment.)

“W—How’s there so much? I thought these were all your things.”

You blinked. “Nope. They’re for you.” You shrugged, beckoning him to look through his gifts by himself. “If something made me think of you, I bought it.”

Inside were an assortment of weapons, alongside bottles of what he assumed to be poison.

“Ah—this stuff’s for work and your training.” You beamed. “A friend of mine, his family specialised in bladesmithing. You said the more weapons you have, the safer you feel.”

“Y–yeah I did but—” He gestured to the stack of crates nearby. “But this is insane—this would’ve cost a fortune.” He remembered your family being middle class, neither struggling nor subjugating financially, but this was an absurd amount for anything.

“It’s over six years! I promise I’ve been working hard, I stayed with family majority of the time anyways.” Your eyes sparkled with promise. “Plus, I wanted to do something nice for you. You never buy yourself anything. I bet you still hardly treat yourself.”

(You were right. Unless it was a necessity or gift for another person, Lohen seldom spent money. It was a waste, considering the Knights funded all equipment, which included most of Lohen’s collection, and he preferred to have a great sum saved up, just in case something ever happened to him.)

“I guess not?” He scratched at his nape. Protecting himself and guaranteeing safety was a good enough “treat” for him. “Dunno what I’m supposed to get for myself, anyways.” He craved the things money couldn’t purchase. Getting Varka off his back, never running out of stamina, you—

“Then let me do it for you. You’ve always worked hard, Mr Captain.”

The title made him stutter and blush. “Vice. I told you, I didn’t get the promotion after what happened.”

But you didn’t care. “Well, Adorno and I think you’re worthy of it. And it’s basically yours since it’s vacant, no?”

(God, he’s getting way too far ahead of himself, but Lohen really wants to propose to you on the spot.)

“I—” For a moment, Lohen thinks to hug you, thank you in his own special way, with affection and his entire being—

“y/n! Do you have someone over?”

Great.

“Yeah—it’s Lohen.”

Thoma’s head popped into the doorway, and he grinned from ear to ear. “Hey. Hi again.” He greeted Lohen, who responded curtly. “What are you guys up to? I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

(Yes, yes you are Thoma. Read the fucking room.)

You patted the crate. “Souvenirs.”

Despite his irritation, Lohen wore a smile as he got up. “Hello again. How’s your mother doing?”

Thoma was caught off guard, glancing towards you. “She’s good, it’s been forever since I got to see her. Thanks for asking.”

“I didn’t expect you to remember that.” You mumbled, pushing off the crate to stand up. “He’s really attentive, isn’t he?”

His smile grew into something genuine in the praise. Thoma nodded along, hardly meeting Lohen’s gaze. “Yeah. Do you have any dinner plans?”

(Fuck. Lohen should’ve asked you to dinner before Thoma could.)

You shook your head, turning to Lohen. “Do you?”

He shook his head back, and internally, he was brimming with pride, celebrating the fact that you immediately turned to him.

Thoma readjusted his jacket. “Then since we’re all together, wanna go for a drink? It’ll be on me. I’ve hardly spoken to your friend yet.”

You immediately shook your head. “Lohen doesn’t dri—”

He lied, insisting otherwise. “It's alright. I couldn't possibly decline the kind offer."

And so, Lohen was seated in the Tavern besides you. Conversation of its patrons blended into one big mess, the noise infuriated Lohen, not nearly as much as his drink did.

Alcohol was fucking disgusting, Lohen thought, as he gulped down another ungodly mouthful. He glued his eyelids shut and swallowed, careful not to choke and spill any.

On the way to the Tavern, he watched you two carefully. So far, his theory of you two dating appeared false. There was hardly any physical contact between you two, nor did Thoma seem protective of you (and if Lohen’s assumption was correct, then Thoma was an awful boyfriend—who knows what could happen at night, near a bar where many drunk people were).

Logically, Lohen still stood a chance. However, getting you to like someone like him back, was an entirely new challenge he had to tackle.

Unlike Lohen, you and Thoma were fine, casually sipping without even a flinch. Conversation bounced between you with ease.

“I forgot how different Mondstadt’s beer was.”

“I wasn’t even old enough to drink, last time I was here.” Thoma finished the last of his drink, peering into the glass with an eye. “To be honest, I still prefer sake.”

With your glass to your lips, you chuckled. “Me too. This isn’t too bad, though.”

Lohen picked up his pace, you were finishing up too, he couldn’t fall behind. To find drinking alcohol enjoyable was weird, Varka, or anyone of the knights, had no right to call him insane when they could drink beer as if it were water, and derived pleasure from it.

(His stomach complained and groaned for help, but he kept going. He’ll make himself puke it out his system if needed. Lohen refused to appear weak in front of Thoma, out of all people.)

Another round of beers paid a visit, and Lohen already felt sick at the sight of a full glass.

“So Lohen, I had no idea you were Vice Captain! That’s really impressive.”

(What was that supposed to mean? That he didn’t appear worthy of his position?)

He played it off with a chuckle, thankful that speaking meant he didn’t have to drink. “It was nothing. Just took a few years of work.”

You butted in, protesting. “Liar—what do you mean Vice Captain isn’t a big deal?”

Lohen shrugged. “It’s not like I had to fight for my life for it.”

You huffed, taking another swig. “You still deserve credit.”

“You’re doing much better than me. If anything, hard work should be rewarded.” You were a cook because you dedicated your blood, sweat, and tears to it. Lohen was vice captain because he liked killing shit.

A smirk creased his lips, high off your praise, as he leaned forward to speak to Thoma. ‘What about you, Thoma? What do you do for a living?”

His face was hot and the insides of his mouth didn’t feel like his anymore, but he had to check what sort of guy you were possibly with. He took another large gulp, concealing his disgust with a sigh. 

Despite it all, Thoma was unbothered by him. “I’m the housekeeper and Chief Retainer of the Yashiro Commission.” He clarified, proud and bright. “Nothin’ special.”

Damn right. But that was too impolite to say. Lohen kept to himself and nodded. “I see. Any good in a fight?”

You answered before Thoma could. “He actually is—he faced the shogun.”

Lohen choked on his own spit. “What?”

Thoma aggressively shook his head, pink blooming on his cheekbones. “All I did was throw a spear.”

“Oh shut up—you threw it at her and somehow survived.”

“Stop bringing it up already.” But he laughed alongside you, the two of you happily bickered and drank beer. 

Lohen doesn’t get what you see in this guy. He took another swig, already adapting to the ugly taste.

Sure, Thoma did have a vision. And he was decently built, his muscles peeked out a bit from his tight top. And he was tall, really tall, but not in the same obnoxious, oversized way as Varka. He had blond, well kept hair and bright, green eyes that resembled green apples and ripe limes sold in the markets of Dornman Po—

Fuck. Now he was just listing all the good things about him. And there were plenty. Lohen himself couldn’t account for all the memories and feelings only you two shared and knew of. Thoma got to be there for you. Lohen was in a completely different continent.

Being blond wasn’t that important, was it? Varka’s blond and he wasn’t even close to marriage, neither was Jean. And it’s not like being short was a bad thing—a super tall partner would be unsettling anyways, wouldn’t it? Lohen had a vision too, and he’d say his physique wasn’t too shabby as well—

“...en? Lohen? Are you okay?”

(Just like how Lohen had to come to terms with his own mortality, he had to come to terms that maybe you weren’t meant to be. He should appreciate he gets to see you, and be within your presence, much like how he needs to acknowledge his human limits.

There was no point in brooding and complaining about Thoma, he’ll probably remain a bit bitter for the rest of time, but he should at least accept that you wanted someone else.)

It hurt, so Lohen drank some more.

His head spun and his face was warm and fuzzy. He rubbed his cheek with his own hand, despite the glove in the way. Even though it acted as a barrier, it felt abnormally warm. 

“Lohen?”

He blinked. “I’m fine. I can handle my liquor juuuust fine.” He slurred a bit, but he knew what he was doing, and where he was. He took another gulp. He’ll just get tipsy enough to forget about you and Thoma for a bit. This is why people drank, right? “Something happen? Need me to fight anything?”

Through half lidded eyes, he watched you shake your head. “You seem a bit…drunk?”

He gulped down some more to compensate. “I’m not. You have nothing to worry about.”

You acknowledged it with a hum, and went back to staring at your drink. Lohen wondered why you stopped talking to Thoma—maybe he went to the washroom, or something.

“You never told me you started drinking. I could’ve brought you back some sake.”

Thoma’s absence tempted him. He slouched over, resting his cheek on your shoulder. It was wrong, to snuggle so close with someone else’s lover, but he wanted to do it one last time. 

“It’s fine. It tastes like shit, anyways.” He reached for his drink, but you pushed it out of his grasp, and he gave you an indignant look, pale cheeks pouting, round and soft. 

“I’m pretty sure you’re very drunk. Drink water first. You need to flush it out your system.” You turned around, finding someone to call for water, but Lohen refused. With an immature whine, his arms wrapped around you, chin nestled into your shoulder. 

He could easily kiss you. All he had to do was move forward.

You smelled nice. A scent he couldn’t name, but it was far more pleasant than the colognes and perfumes he’s ever encountered. Something that didn’t fit into existing definition. His eyelids relaxed, and he embraced your proximity. 

“Y–you’re drunk—”

“And you’re pretty.”

Lohen pressed even closer, his nose brushing against his neck. He wanted to press a kiss on the flesh, bite a bit, even. He thought to himself, about how badly he wanted to kiss you all over, spoil you with all the affection he could possibly conjure. Maybe leave even a mark or two, bruising you with his love for the rest of the world to see.

(But he held back. It was audacious enough to cling onto someone taken. He needs to pull himself together and apologise before Thoma returns.)

Despite his effrontery, your hand made its way to his head, caressing his hair before patting his back. “Are you alright?”

(He wanted to throw up. Not because of the alcohol.)

“It’s not fair.” Lohen slurred, now burying his face into your shoulder. “You were gone for so long, how was I meant to stand a chance?”

He should’ve scraped up the money and joined you on that boat, and travelled across treacherous seas while by your side. That way, he wouldn’t have to swim in all his desire. Now, he found himself drowning, with no way of reaching the surface again. Lohen’s love filled him up to the brink, from his heart to his lungs, dragging him down to the depths of nothingness.

(Lohen charged at any sort of peril of ease, even back then with six years less of experience. A simple love confession may appear pathetic in comparison to the dangers he faced, but wounds heal and flesh grows back, while a rejection would leave a scar uglier than the ones his skin donned.)

His hand squeezed you even tighter. “I love you—I should’ve told you before you left. Maybe then I would’ve stood a chance against…Thoma.” His words were punctuated by a violent hiccup, it tasted of beer and misery at the back of his throat. “And got to be there for you. All I could do was write letters.” Lohen’s voice broke, almost crumbling into tears. “Do you know how scared I was? What if I somehow forgot your voice, or how you looked…”

Lohen’s face peeled off your shoulder, and his lips daringly inched closer to your ear, though he didn’t go any further. "I know I can't make you love me—” He whined, a pathetic noise, one that not even children could make. “—but I should've found a real dandelion."

He shouldn't have torn his letter apart. "Maybe fate wouldn’t have taken you away from me.”

(Pull away, do it now, Lohen told himself. It grew into insistent commands, echoing in his skull. You’re not his. What he was doing was wrong and was only going to make things harder for everyone, especially you. He could barely excuse himself spewing his emotions like this, now was the time to let go. And throw up.) 

You weren’t replying. Of course you weren’t. He’ll have to apologise tomorrow, when his head wasn’t spinning and bile wasn’t growing at the back of his throat. 

The world faded to black.

For the first time in his entire life, Lohen was mortified at himself.

He carried not an ounce of shame when poisoning Varka’s oversized beers, nor when hunting down and blackmailing Kaeya for a forged signature. Rumours did nothing to him, he did not care for the opinions of others, only freedom reigned his actions and philosophy.

His eyes hadn’t even opened yet, and behind the darkness of his eyelids, all he saw was disgrace. He’d be impressed by how self conscious he was, if it weren’t for the fact that it was you he embarrassed himself in front of—he probably tarnished your reputation too, the one you barely got to rebuild after your return.

But he was remorseful as he was humiliated. You deserved an apology, and so did Thoma, even if he was envious of him. He’d let you beat him to a pulp if needed, if that was what it took to earn a chance of redemption.

“Fuck…” He groaned, pushing himself up. “Everything hurts.”

The sunlight oozing into the windows was blinding, despite being gentle and soft, all it did was make his head throb uncontrollably. His muscles screeched for help, soreness seized his body hostage. Lohen’s head felt too heavy, as if he could collapse at any moment.

He thought about last night, and everything beyond his body began to hurt.

It really wasn't a nightmare. You being in love with someone else.

Lohen cackled to himself, all alone in his bed. He's a fucking idiot, and loser, and should never be in the proximity of alcohol again. 

Why was he even surprised? You were perfection and sunlight personified, it was no wonder whenever someone asked you out. If anything, it was Lohen’s fault not considering that during his last goodbye.

But instead, he tore his confession into pieces, for a wish that came true far too late.

“I'm an idiot, aren't I…?” Lohen whispered, to no one in particular.

“I don't think so.”

“What the fuck—?”

You had just walked in with a glass of water. “Sorry. I heard you laughing and realised you were awake.” You approached his bed with a glass of water. “Feeling okay?”

Lohen accepted wordlessly. He wasn't sure what to be embarrassed for, from his unrequited feelings to whatever the hell he was doing earlier, it felt as though he’d done everything possible to make a fool of himself.

‘Good job.” You praised, taking the glass from his hands.

(You were attractive, even when talking to him like a child. Being praised for drinking water seemed absurd, but he wasn't allowed to say that when he was relishing every word.)

Now wasn't the time—he watched you place the glass on his bedside table, as you settled onto his bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. That makes sense.”

Come to think of it, he hardly had any recollection of last night, aside from his shameless antics. It felt worse, not knowing the full extent of his predicament.

He glanced around his house. “How did I get back home?”

“I carried you.”

Lohen didn't remember that.

“Th–thanks. You didn't have to.”

“I didn't have a choice. You were clinging onto me and saying I had to come over.”

He didn't remember that either.

“It was pretty cute, actually. You were really excited to show me your new place. For good reason, too—”

‘I’m so sorry. I–I–I can slit my stomach open for you—that's how they do it in Inazuma, isn’t it?”

(He enjoyed being called cute far too much. Now was not the time for it.)

“No—I mean yes, they do—that's not the point.” Your hand held his, reassuring him with the rhythmic stroke of your thumb. “No one’s mad at you, Lohen. I’m definitely not.”

God, even now, you managed to be kind. Lohen would go insane if someone behaved as ridiculously as he did.

“Yeah but I bet Thoma is—”

“Why would Thoma be mad at you?”

He waved his hands around frantically. “I was hitting on you—I’d be pissed if a guy was all over my lover like that.”

You blinked once. Then twice.

“Thoma and I aren't dating.”

He was so shocked, that relief didn't even pay him a visit. In fact, nothing went through his head.

“Did you think we were together?”

“Y–yeah?”

You were stunned too, mouth hanging open as you processed his words. “Is that why you were one-upping him?”

“I was doing what?” A sharp pang throbs in his head for speaking too loud.

“While you were drunk—you were rambling about how Thoma. You said stuff about tall men being difficult to date and blond people being insanely overrated—”

Lohen snapped, unintentionally. “Stop. I'm gonna die if I hear the rest of that.” 

First, his one and only love didn't want him back, then he got wasted over a conclusion he jumped too, and now he was hungover in front of you.

He swallowed. “I still owe you two.” If anything, he’d prefer you to slit his stomach open, or beat him ‘til you were satisfied. Anything over how calm and understanding you were being. “You must’ve been embarrassed.”

You shrugged. “I told you, it was cute. I've never seen you so clingy.”

Another hot, uncomfortable wave of embarrassment washed over him.

He should bring up his feelings now, shouldn't he? Apologise for confessing in such an inappropriate, dramatic way in a public setting. Then he should walk you home and apologise to Thoma while he was at it.

Where should Lohen start? He drafted an apology in his head; about last night, sorry for—

“—I love you too, by the way.”

“The fuck?” 

A hand clasped over his mouth and he felt another urge to profusely apologise.

“Last night. You said you loved me.” 

He watched you inch closer, his heart racing even more when he felt your warmth in his proximity. “I did say that.”

“Why are you so surprised then?” Your hand holds onto his, abnormally warm compared to his body temperature. “I'm giving you an answer.”

“Wh—are you sure?” Since when were you this ballsy? You used to be so timid and shy, now you were essentially climbing onto him. “I must be going insane.”

“I had six years to think about you while I was gone. Yes, I’m very sure.” You pinched his cheek, gently tugging at the flesh. “See? You're not dreaming.”

Lohen’s mouth hung open, yet no sound came out. He stared at you, and at your thighs that were on top of his, and the pink permeating the apples of your cheek.

(Words were never his thing. Paperwork was pointless when all the information was in his head and made perfect sense to him. He even had a hard time adapting to writing letters, it didn’t sound nearly as nice when it was in ink instead of speech.)

So Lohen pulled you closer. You landed on his chest, his arms clamped around you like a vice.

You yelped, peering back up at him. “Lohen?”

His fingertips played with the back of your shirt. “May I?”

“Sure but what are you—” A shaky gasp interrupted your question, and the noise drove Lohen insane. “Cold—your hands are so cold—what are you doing?”

"Need to feel you more—" His hands massaged the soft flesh, he was right, you’d gained quite a bit of muscle since you left. His hands paused and his hollow eyes held something akin to sorrow. “Fuck. Do you know how upset I was? I–I–I was worried you were engaged.

You snorted, pinching his cheek again. “Engaged? Why would I be engaged with Thoma, when all I wanted was here in Mondstadt?”

Lohen’s gaze drifted away. “You were blushing.”

“Hm?”

“You were blushing around him. When I dropped you off. So I thought you had a thing going on.”  

This time, you burst into laughter. Normally, he’d enjoy how it sounds, but right now, all it did was fuel his embarrassment. He withdrew his hands from your back and rubbed his eyes as you composed yourself. “Sorry—that was mean. Did it not occur to you that I was flustered because of you?” 

Lohen frowned and scoffed. “You didn’t even look at me when I dropped you off.”

You rolled over, settling next to him. “Really? I probably got embarrassed. I told Thoma all about you, y’know? Since like...the beginning of our friendship? He kept telling me to confess to you during the trip here. He even made a whole gameplan for me. Y’know he only invited us to dinner to try to get us alone. He slipped away after you got tipsy.”

(Huh. Maybe Thoma was a good guy, after all. Not only does he owe him an apology, but a massive thank you, as well.)

“So. There’s no doubt that you’re the one I want, okay? It was like that long before I left Mondstadt.”

Weakly, he nodded, finally able to feel relief. “Okay.”

You liked him back, no, loved him back. For over six years, too. 

Lohen's heartbeat raced, to the point he began to worry about it bursting out of his chest. Unable to cope with all the emotions eating away at it and his pounding headache, he flopped back into bed. He’ll deal with it when he’s not hungover. For now, knowing of your feelings was the only thing keeping him alive at the moment.

He turned away from you, burying his face into his hands, wincing at the aftermath of his drinking. "Ugh. My head fucking hurts...'m gonna die for a bit. Wake me if it's an emergency."

You sat up instead, already heading to the kitchen. "Oh. I just started preparing a hangover soup but—"

Lohen shot up, posture pin straight.  "I'll eat."

“You just said your head was hurting. You should rest first.”

But he stood up, throwing his blanket somewhere on the floor. “Soup. I want soup.”

Your mouth opened to protest, but you gave up. “Sure. Whatever you want. Let’s go to the kitchen, then.”

“I love you.” Lohen said, a plea for you to say that you loved him again. Even with evidence, everything still felt like a dream. He wondered if this was another pleasant dream, and he’d wake up, forehead to the desk in Varka’s office with groggy eyes, accompanied by paperwork instead of you. 

He begged for it not to.

You took his hand, pulling him along. “I love you too, Lohen.”

“So. Now we’re together.”

Lohen’s quill was nowhere to be seen, and his feet were propped up onto the table, as Varka groaned, arms crossed at his own desk.

“I get that young love is beautiful and whatnot. But might I remind you, that you’re still under strict supervision and you didn’t come in at all yesterday.”

Lohen rolled his eyes, his cheery mood undeterred by Varka’s disappointment. He had spent the entire morning rambling about you, celebrating your new status as lovers and verbally brainstorming his plans for the future. He told Varka of all the souvenirs you brought him (if it could even be called that—there were crates upon crates) and boasted about how lucky he was to be in love. He even went as far as mocking Varka, boasting about how you made him a special hangover soup, all from scratch, while Varka had to tough out his hangovers.

(He even ventured towards the topic of marriage, debating where to get an engagement ring commissioned someday and reminding himself to figure out your favourite gemstone. Varka scoffed when Lohen asked where he got his, rubbing in the fact that the Grandmaster was very much single. The closest thing Varka was married to was duty and responsibility—maybe even alcohol, too.)

A gloved hand rested over his chest. “To be fair, you did pull me out of solitary confinement for them.” He stared at the roof, unbothered by the chandelier’s glare as he swooned. He’ll pick up a nice bouquet of lovers on his way home for you. “Six years have never been more worth it. Barbatos, I'm sorry for cussing you out. You're not so bad.” He said to no one in particular.

The Grandmaster stood up, approaching the young man. He grabbed his quill and tossed it in front of him. “Was your lover worth getting wasted in front of everyone?”

Lohen’s heart sank to his stomach. His neck snapped straight and he looked Varka dead in the eye.

“Oh hey. You’re turning red now. You’re starting to remind me of Diluc’s hair.”

“How’d you even know about that?” Suddenly, his feet were off the table, heels planted to the floor and his body tensed up, as if preparing to escape or attack Varka at any moment.

“I was there? Had a drink with Kaeya and caught up with Thoma. His mother and I go way back” A slight smirk creased his lips. “You don’t seem very fond of him.”

You failed to mention that, all you told him was that he was being clingy and confessed, before begging you to come over. How much did you leave out? You were the type to omit details for the sake of another’s dignity, and the only things Lohen could recall by himself was his slurred speech and whining. 

Varka didn’t relent in his teasing. “Huh. You don’t seem so bad when you’re shy. I can see why you’ve finally found yourself a lover. Well done, by the way. Good thing Thoma wasn’t interested in them.” 

“I’ll do the paperwork, okay?” He snatched the quill, grip tightening to the point his knuckles faded to white. At this rate, he was going to do things worse than poisoning his beer. He’ll rush through this paperwork before running off to go see you again.

But apparently, his current state wasn’t amusing enough. “I can see why you don’t drink. You’re worse than me. You even threw mora at Thoma to prove you were richer. Kind of cute seeing you jump to conclusions and get all whiny—”

“Shut up.” He really will up his dose of poison. And throw out the antidote while he’s at it.

© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate

[kitorin]

paper dandelion.

in which, lohen has a hard time coming to terms with your departure.

contents. lohen x gn!reader, angst, childhood friends, spoilers for lohen's aq (reader has same backstory), lohen doesn't understand trauma very well, one (kinda gorey) kms joke, does not follow the canon storyline of genshin, no beta lol

Tonight was your last night in Mondstadt.

The moon would eventually bid the world farewell, you'd be doing your final checks before embarking on the journey to Inazuma—this time a permanent destination rather than a holiday.

By the flower fields of Dornman Port you sat, comforted by the meek waves of the shore and the lighthouse watching over you. Maybe it was how abnormally bright it was for the evening, or perhaps the occasional passerbys, but for once, you appeared comfortable, being alone so late.

Etherwing moths danced in the air around you, a soft glow that illuminated your back, a sight Lohen needed to seer into your memories—for tonight was going to be your last night in Mondstadt, and one of the last few moments Lohen wasn't alone.

You broke the news to him on a random Tuesday, quietly announcing your departure. Your gaze refused to meet his, and his couldn't pull away from you.

You already know my family's from there. They want to support me and my parents. And they know a renowned clinical psychologist there that's willing to help me.

Lohen had gritted his teeth.

Why are you looking at me like that...? I can finally get better now. I won't have to be a burden anymore.

He couldn't stand it when you described yourself as a burden.

At the tender age of ten, Lohen was kidnapped—you were one of the children in his cell, alongside Theodore.

It changed both of you for the better, everyone, really. Even someone as logical and calculating as Lohen couldn't help but sometimes wonder, how different would the trajectory of his life be, if his father hadn't let their carriage get held up by those treasure hoaders?

Lohen spat venom that day, snapping about how ridiculous it was to think of yourself as something to be fixed. He knows you best and knew you were far more capable than you described yourself, there was no need to run away to Inazuma. He went through the same thing and turned out fine—he believes you did too.

Since then, you hadn't spoken to each other. Not even glance at one another in the rare moments you passed each other.

Now, he watched you sit, staring towards the ocean while hardly moving. Adorno had lectured him, and for once he listened, urging him to say goodbye. Even if he didn't muster the courage to do so, he could at least stand guard for you—to make sure you'd return unscathed tonight.

"I know you're there, Lohen."

He haphazardly stuffed the letter into his pocket and grunted, before settling in the grass. He didn't say anything, there's was so much on his mind that he couldn't even start.

"I'm sorry."

Lohen scoffed. "You didn't even do anything wrong, You need to get rid of that habit." He wonders and worries, if it'd make you an easy target when you're gone.

You chuckled, a soft, tired noise. "Probably, yeah. But you seemed so upset the other day. I felt bad."

Lohen, you need to stop being so immature. Adorno had chastised him, after he heard about your argument. You can swallow up your pride and apologise, or you can make your final moments together a petty argument that they didn't even deserve.

He sucked in a sharp breath.

"I was in the wrong...I'm sorry for being so...childish."

His heart raced, faster than it ever had in combat. Even the Knights of Favonius entrance exam, he passed with nonchalance. He cleared out monsters with a bloodrushing excitement, but not once did he feel as stressed as he did now.

(Lohen never knew love was this exhilirating. He looked down upon the romances of fiction and the crushes his colleagues would gush about. Now, he felt, and probably looked, even more pathetic than they ever could.)

The waves took their turn to speak, licking up the shore as he stared at a crab to keep himself occupied. Crickets hidden in bushes somewhere sang, and his mouth went dry.

"I missed you." You whispered, and it stung more than any injury he's endured. "I'm glad I got to see you again before I left."

It was callous. Rude, even, but he didn't restrain himself. "Do you really have to go...?"

Trembling yet amused, you sighed. "Yes, I do. I told you, my dad's family's there to help me, and they're friends with—"

"—a renowned psychologist yeah. I was listening." He trailed off, guilty for cutting you off. "But still. Mondstadt's your home."

Where the wind watched over its people. Where dandelions granted dreams and wishes. Where Lohen was.

"I know. That won't change. I wasn't exactly excited to move away, y'know?" You pulled out a blade of grass, picking it into smaller pieces. "But, I don't think moving to Inazuma is a terrible idea. Having a fresh start will be good for me. Like getting away from what happened."

Maybe it was your smile, or how the move was entirely logical, that makes Lohen lose it.

"You don't need a fresh start—"

"I do, Lohen. I know we went through the same thing and all, but it doesn't mean I'm going to be just as successful. I'm nothing like you."

The words tumbled out before he could even filter them, moving faster than his brain ever could. "If I'm so successful why won't you let me protect you—? I can provide everything you need, a—and want. Heck, I could get you a job too—you're smart, and good with books, you like them—I'm sure Lisa would want an assistant or something—"

"That won't fix me. I want to reclaim my life by myself. I want to stop being scared of our past."

He choked on his words, whimpering at how peaceful you looked, even if it meant leaving the nation you lived in all your life.

"...stop saying that. You're not some broken item to put back together..." Lohen's gaze tentatively drifted towards you. You didn't reciprocate, admiring the shore and the moon's blurry reflection.

Reclaim life—Lohen understands the feeling all too well. There was a reason why he trained relentlessly, constantly alert and on guard. He could never enter a room without scanning its entirety for potential dangers, nor could he go without carrying at least two weapons.

"Even so, can't you do it here, in Mondstadt? With me?" He nuzzled his face into your neck, too afraid to meet your gaze. The night air didn't feel so cold against your skin.

It was only thanks to you, that he feels a semblance of stability, and warmth. You were the only one who listened. Even if you enjoyed the predictability of routine, you never forced him to indulge in the same habits as you, something his parents failed to recognise.

Lohen despises routine and mundanity, but with you, it felt more like a break from life than mindnumbing monotony.

You were right, you're nothing like each other, you were gold and he was a lump of coal.

You even managed to interpret his bloodlust positively, always quipping about how Mondstadt was only safe because of Lohen. Lohen thinks that, even if you weren't trapped in that cell with him, you would've still understood his soul perfectly fine.

Lohen doesn't want you to go. He doesn't want to be alone. He wanted you here, in Mondstadt.

He wanted you to feel warmth with him, as much as he basked in yours.

Your cheek rested in his head, the reciprocation widened his eyes and drove his heart wild. "I wish. But it's too late, I'm already leaving tomorrow. I'm not going to change my mind."

This must've been Lohen's own failure. Had he taken your insecurities more seriously, maybe he could've done something. He's garnered a decent amount of experience with the Knights of Favonius and the Adventurer's Guild, he could've taught you to fight—that opens up plenty of opportunities, and you'd feel safer alongside them.

This was simple consequence, he thought. You were leaving because Mondstadt wasn't good enough.

You pulled away, and Lohen's heart sank. He sat up normally, deciding it'd be best to say his final goodbyes soon.

A sniffle interrupted his plans, followed by a choked sob.

You were crying. Furiously so. You turned away, hands rubbing away at your eyes.

"Hey..." A gloved hand reached out to you.

"Fuck—I didn't want to cry again...I don't want to go—"

The sight of you crying tortured him more than any mission could.

Lohen's been witness to your tears on many accounts, but today he was lost for words.

An arm wrapped around you, pulling you in as you wailed.

"I'm gonna miss you." You kept refusing to face him, even as he pulled you closer. Incoherent, you sobbed, hiccuping on your misery.

"I'll miss you too. Everyone will."

It's not "running" away, Lohen. Adorno had reassured him. Not all people heal the same, much like wounds. You have your own idea of healing. They have their own.

He understands that, yet something inside him pleaded to hold onto you forever, and never let you go.

I'll miss that child too. They've treated you well. But it's their turn to find themselves again. There'll be surrounded by love in Inazuma, their parents love them dearly to make that choice. It takes a great amount of courage to take a step that big.

Adorno was right. Leaving was for your sake. You'd be happy in Inazuma, your extended family there loved you dearly, often sending plenty of goods and letters over to you. That psychologist you mentioned would help you understand yourself better, and a change of environment was understandable. Leaving, was ultimately a good decision for you.

Lohen couldn't say the same for himself, but that wasn't important.

Your cries died down, Lohen waited until you were ready to speak, endearingly rubbing your shoulder.

You sighed, wiping your tears one final time. "I'm glad you came here. I was worried our last conversation would be a fight."

Lohen flinched, regret pouncing on him. Quite frankly, if it weren't for Adorno, he'd wallow in disaster and remorse for the rest of time, all because he was immature enough to avoid you after a fight he initiated.

"I'd rather shoot myself in the head then not say goodbye." You chuckled at the graphic joke. "Besides." He shifted, pulling you in so he could face you. Your eyes were traced in red and your nose was dusted pink, but it made no difference for him. "There's no 'last conversation' happening between us. You'll be back to vi—no, I'll travel there to see you when I can. I'm gonna be writing letters to you too, silly."

(Lohen's eyes were burning, but he refused to cry. Not when he regretted not being strong enough to help you. His pride tells him to minimise your guilt, for both of your sakes.)

You stopped making the effort to conceal your face, sniffling. "You're right. I'll be back. I'll bring you back all sorts of candy, okay?"

He smiled, a rare moment of happiness in recent times. "You better."

Your breathing had finally stabilised. "I'll be back." You repeated. "I'll come back as a happier person."

The determination glowing in your eyes comforted Lohen. Before he could speak again, you scurried around, searching the ground.

"Did you lose something?"

You shook your head. "Dandelion—I wanna make a wish."

(Your growth and return was inevitable in Lohen's head. But if a dandelion was what you wanted, then a dandelion was what you'd get.)

Neither of you could find anything nearby, you were about to lose hope, until an idea flickered in his head. Lohen fished out the letter, smoothing it out. You leaned in, curious. "What is that?"

"Stupid report I messed up on." He lied—he would never keep a botched report, nor redo one. 'But it should work equally fine."

'What do you mean?"

He tore it apart before you could see it, into the smallest bits and pieces he could. The fragments of paper pooled in his palms, and he made sure the wind wouldn't interfere with your wish.

Careful, he held his cupped palms to your mouth. "Make a wish."

You blinked, Lohen sighed.

"I know it's not the same, but I'm sure Barbatos will grant your wish either way. He's the god of freedom, it's...the thought that counts. Somethin' like that."

A grin bloomed across your lips. "How did you even manage to think of this?" Your posture straightened and you blew with all your might, before the wind carried the paper away.

Together, you watched the wish dance in the air, before falling into the sea.

Your hands were clasped tight in a prayer, resting against your forehead with your eyes closed.

(Lohen hated religion. He thought of praying as a pointless pass time for those who didn't want to seize control of their own lives. He'd never admit it to anyone, not even you, but in his head, he prayed alongside you—for you to return soon. Yet at the same time, he wanted this ephemeral night to last for eternity.)

He pried the silence away first. He knew if he sat here any longer with you, it'd hurt more when you had to go.

"It's getting late." Lohen declared. "You'll need the rest before the trip. And Varka's gonna scold me about sleep deprivation or whatever.

"Mm. Okay." You stood up, brushing the dirt off your knees, but your gaze was fixated on the ocean, where your 'dandelion' had flown to. "Thank you."

"For?"

"Y'know. Everything. And just then. I feel like you've always helped me."

"I could say the same for you." As he stood, it was beginning to hit him—it wasn't even a full day until you were gone—across the sea, all the way in Inazuma, a lonely archepeligo, further than he had ever been. "Besides, you don't need a wish to make your way back."

His fingers fiddled with an ear, before removing one of his silver and sapphire earrings. He held it out to you. You remained still with shock, as it glistened in pityful moonlight.

"Just take it. You give it back to me once you're back." He huffed, regretting not preparing a goodbye gift. All he knew was violence. "That way, I know you won't forget to return."

(He was familiar with bow crafting of course, but he wanted to give something meaningful, not a talent that he never cared for. He thought the letter would suffice, but that had gone into the wind and sea.)

Despite your teasing, you accepted the earring, carefully pocketing it. 'Are you sure you won't miss it? Now you only have one earring."

Lohen shrugged. "Eh, I'll look good either way. Plus, it'll minimise my chances of someone ripping off my ear in a fight. Do you want the other, as well?" His fingers already reached for the other ear. You declined, clinging onto his wrist.

"No. One is enough. It kind of feels like we're matching now."

The two of you began walking, with the moon peering down on you. You marveled at the occasional cat running past, or the fireflies fluttering around.

"Did you know Morax used mountains as weapons? He used them to seal away gods."

No, Lohen didn't. "The geo archon?"

"Yeah. I bought a new book about Liyue's history."

The topic changed out of nowhere, as you walked through Dornman Port together.

"Interesting. Tell me more."

(That night, Lohen had intentionally walked slower to stretch out your remaining time together. He liked to think that you did as well.)

It's been a year or so. Lohen was not used to your absense, but he has grown accustomed to writing letters instead of running to your doorstep.

Inazuma was treating you well. Pages upon pages replaced your excited ranting, and you pressed the local flowers for him—Lohen decided he'd learn to press cecilias for you when he had the chance to learn. Your letters recounted your adventures, from the new friends you made, to how the psychologist you were seeing turned out to be a 'yumekui baku', a spirit known for eating the bad dreams of humans. Turns out you stopped having nightmares as a whole, and you've learned to manage panic attacks better.

I've been enjoying culinary school so much! Life feels so much better now that I've found something I love. You should let me know what dishes you want me to learn, I'll practice for you.

Lohen always kept a page of your letters with him. It was reaching midnight, and he was dragged to the Tavern with the Varka, simply because it was the end of the week. He smiled to himself, rereading your handwriting as comfort.

Varka took a seat besides him, groaning and immediately asking Diluc for a beer. Lohen refolded the letter again, pocketing it. "You sure you don't need a drink?"

Lohen shook his head. "Tastes rancid. Being drunk isn't worth the taste. Apple cider's better." Before he could ask, Diluc had already began preparing one for him. "Thank you, Master Diluc."

The bartender grunted at the honorific, quietly before getting on with Varka's beer. Diluc of Dawn Winery was always stoic and composed, but today, eyebags were storming and he appeared more irritated than anything. Lohen knows he hates the knights, but he was in a worse mood than usual.

Varka, being the ever-so perceptive Grandmaster, called it out first. "You look tired. What's up?"

Diluc sighed. "Sakoku Decree. Can't import sake for the time being." He rubbed circles on his temple. "The tariffs are abnormally high, too. Can't sell or buy from Inazuma."

The mention of your (now) nation of residence piqued his curiosity. It must've been an commerce related thing.

The Grandmaster shrugged. "Mondstadt's beer always tasted better anyways." He joked, thanking Diluc for his drink. "But I never knew. Any reason why?"

He wiped down the counter. "No. It's indefinite as well."

"Poor Ulrike. Her son's living there, isn't he?"

Lohen's heart sank. "What are you talking about?"

Varka took a massive gulp of beer, wiping his mouth with a bulky forearm. "The shogun of Inazuma cut it off. Completely. No one can enter or leave. And we have no idea when that'll change"

His voice broke. "You're joking, right?"

Diluc scoffed. "I wish he was."

Suddenly, Lohen struggled to breathe, and his apple cider began to taste awful. A gloved hand pushed himself off his seat, and he left a pile of mora for his drink.

"What happened?" Varka tried to reach out, but Lohen dodged. Even Diluc was concerned. "You feeling alright?"

"Air. I just need air. I'll be back."

Before either of them could question him any further, he left.

No one can enter or leave. How were you meant to return or visit, then? Neither could he. And if it's indefinite, then it could be anything—the shogun was an archon, divine beings hardly consider the mortal.

Even outside, Lohen felt like he couldn't breathe. What about the letters you were writing to each other? Would the decree affect that too? Such an oppressive policy couldn't mean anything good either, what if something was happening in Inazuma?

What if something happened to you?

Lohen walked and walked, until he was alone enough to panic.

What about the wish you made? The promise to reunite some day—

Lohen couldn't help but mourn—if only he had found you a real dandelion that day.

© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate

[thereficxl]

hi lohen nation did u miss me