#lacquered chopsticks

[ippinka]

These Natural Lacquered Wooden Chopsticks are a perfect must-have and can be an addition to your cutlery collection.

[toyourliking]

tinned mackerel cooked in soy sauce on a rocket and spinach salad with mildly seasoned rice 😋

nicely presented vs the reality of me eating on my bed like an animal 😅

[uovoc]

Chopstick materials ranked best to worst

1. Unfinished bamboo. The cheap disposable takeout kind. Superior grippiness and strength. Can pick up rice noodles with ease.

2. Unfinished wood. Good grip but prone to breaking along the wood grain.

3. Lacquered bamboo or wood. Sacrifices some grip for durability, but still decent.

4. Plastic. Slippery.

5. Metal. Can't grab noodles, cold to the touch, heavy in the hand, no redeeming qualities other than an industrial and easy-to-disinfect nature, which is why restaurants use them.

[yama-bato]

Bernard Aubertin

Wok-M, 2014

Assemblage of chopsticks on panel, all lacquered in red

[prismatic-bell]

So I got part of Avenue Q stuck in my head, and you know how people say something was "a product of its time" when talking about racism, sexism, etc.? It is occurring to me I finally get that. Because while sometimes it's just...wrong and was always wrong, I have to wonder how many people who either weren't into pop culture in the late 90s/early 00s or simply weren't alive then don't realize Christmas Eve is supposed to be poking fun at weeaboos. The show was written at a point in time where America just kind of went crazy about Japanese pop culture for awhile. Like. Everyone. Everywhere. A major pop singer (Gwen Stefani) literally paid for a group of "kawaii girls" to follow her around as part of her image, and Smile.dk (which had zero Japanese members) debuted with a song called "Butterfly" in which the singer "searches for a man all across Japan, just to find my samurai" and featuring some non-lyric vocalizations that I genuinely hope weren't supposed to sound like Chinese tonals because they really sound like someone botching Chinese tonals (and, you know, assuming All Asian Nations Are Japan). Pikachu was on the front of Time magazine, most of the weekday afternoon programming block on Cartoon Network was anime, kimono-style tops (although usually facing the wrong way) were a huge trend, and for those who still wanted tees or regular shirts with long sleeves, well...

Do I have any idea what that says? None. Did I own one of these? I did not--I owned three of them. All three of mine looked like lacquer boxes with koi or traditional flower designs. I found out later the writing on at least one of mine was complete gibberish. The designer just picked some kanji they thought looked cool. And yes, basically every top I owned that wasn't one of these was a kimono-style. Wearing chopsticks in your hair became A Whole Thing if you weren't flatironing your hair (and yes, people used actual chopsticks, not hair sticks--I'm not even sure hair sticks were really a thing in American fashion until this point). On the internet side of things, 2channel was possibly getting shut down and 2chan sprang up, and quickly got so popular in the western hemisphere that we got--yep--4chan, the same year Avenue Q debuted. 4chan is weeb culture, or at least, that's how it started. (In fact I think it's also where "weeaboo" was coined.) A couple of years later, MCR would include Japanese verses in a song just...because. Because that's what we were like at that point in time. 1998-2005 (or so) was when America had its own taste of Japonisme. And into all of this you get Christmas Eve. Who's loud, and brash, and assertive--not at all a docile me-love-you-long-time weeb fantasy. Her English is a little broken, but she's not stupid--in fact as far as we can tell she's the most educated person on Avenue Q (Kate and Princeton both have BAs and Rod probably has a master's in business, but Christmas Eve has two separate master's degrees, which she earned in her secondary language). Her accent is thick, but there's literally a song ("Everyone's A Little Bit Racist") where some of the characters get called out on laughing at her for it. And--crucially--the white man she marries is so far removed from anything related to pan-Asian culture in America he doesn't know he shouldn't call her Oriental. Is this absolutely terrible given he's marrying a Japanese woman? Yes. Is it kind of baffling that another character immediately says "the term is Asian-American," since Christmas Eve refers to herself as Japanese? Also yes. Is it weird that a guy who (according to the timeline) was born in 1970 would be using Oriental? Extremely. Is it a dig at the exoticizing that was going on at the time? Absofuckinglutely. (And that's why that anachronism is there. It's very much pointing out that society was treating Japanese pop culture the same way our Victorian forebears treated Japan in general in the Meiji era.) And like. I'm not saying Christmas Eve is some kind of unproblematic depiction here by any means. Even in 2003 her accent was...icky, and now it's downright unacceptable. And there's the question of whether they fell into one stereotype ("Asians are so smart!") while trying to mock another ("if you can't speak English you must be stupid"), and whether that's an acceptable trade-off. I'm not even going to get into her name being a Christmas cake joke because....look, I could sit here and explain all the puns in the names but that's a whole other post and it's literally easier to say "Brian, Kate, and Nicky are the only characters whose names aren't jokes."

But there's a huge nuance to why she was written as this bizarre stereotype-but-not-but-yes-but-not-but-yes-but-maybe mashup, and I think there's a big possibility you literally just had to be there to understand. It really truly genuinely is a product of 2003. You could not write Christmas Eve in 1983 and have her make any damn sense. You could not write her in 2023 and have her come across as anything but wildly racist. Like. Maybe that phrase isn't just don't-be-mean-to-your-elders bullshit. (At least, not all of the time.)

[japanese-plants]

Makie lacquer chopstick box with shakunage rhododendron design

[morverenmaybewrites]

🌧️Share something angsty from your WIP.

I know you talked about. A few ideas you and, not sure about WIPs tho- you can do this with any wip that is ur favorite right now

Hello, and thank you for participating in the ask game, anon! I have several ongoing WIPS, but I choose A Crown of Bone. A Fantasy!AU for Genshin Impact featuring a Fae Lord! Zhongli and a Changeling!Reader.

In the story, the Good Folk have stolen the reader's nephew and now the reader must barter for his freedom.

Imagine finally making it to your destination, some remote village on the outskirts of Liyue, and feeling a sudden shock of fear at what you find there. The woman who greets you stumbling at the gates is already half a stranger. The Aunt Baiji you had known had been both vivid and beautiful, with dark hair that gleamed like oil even in the dim sunlight of Sneznahya’s endless winter. 

She had been strong, too. As a child, you remember how her voice shook the walls of your small household, as she shouted down both of your parents. You remember looking down at your burned hands, still steaming from holding iron cutlery and wondering if you are worthy of such rage.

She had handed you a pair of chopsticks before she left, carved from bamboo and coated in dark lacquer. 

“They’ll see sense soon, little Dragonfly,” she had said. “In the meantime, use these instead.” 

You had carried the chopsticks with you on the long journey to Liyue, wrapped in wool like a shroud. You find that they give you courage for what you are planning to do. 

They give you the courage to lie now, and it tastes like iron against your teeth.

“It’s good to see you, Auntie.” 

But it isn’t. The woman who throws her trembling arms around you looks nothing like the one who had defended you all her life. To hold her is like holding a skeleton, you can feel the individual knobs in her spine, the skin hanging loose over her flesh. 

You feel it then, like the flitting of a bird against your chest: fury, bright and pure. And with it, the determination to see this through.

[jiangwanyinscatmom]

In the meantime, I offer the intro for a Wangxian arranged marriage fic

The betrothal was decided amongst the hissing of Madam Yu, the angry tightening of Jiang Cheng’s eyes and the quiet exasperated words of agreement from Jiang Fengmian. It had been the suggestion of Madam Yu. As if she had swallowed a lemon during the evening meal, she pinned Jiang Fengmian with a dark and deep stare.

“I have a proposal Jiang Fengmian, one you will not overlook or protest before I have had my say.”

Jiang Fengmian sipped his tea first, slow and calm, as he seemed to glance at a spot just above Madam Yu’s shoulder saying, “ I am, and will, listen, my lady.”

There was a disdainful “ha” that escaped Madam Yu’s lips. And as Wei Wuxian plated bits of spiced meat and vegetables he saw the way Jiang Cheng’s hand tensed around his chopsticks in wait for what was next.

She continued on, as she sat poised and stiff, “ I have taken it upon myself regarding a future marriage with that of Gusu Lan.”

Finally, Jiang Fengmian’s eyes met those of Madam Yu’s in weary attention. “This is the first you have mentioned anything of the kind.”

Madam Yu’s lip curled in preconstructed patience, “ If I had it would not come to anything if left to you, just as I had to take it upon myself to secure our daughter's affairs for her own future.” It was rare that Madam Yu would bring Jiang Yanli up within these conversations, and such a thing had become a marker of predicting the shift of anger when the subject was either Wei Wuxian or Jiang Cheng. Her marriage prospect to Jin Zixuan was all but set to stone for Madam Yu’s concern. Silently Jiang Yanli watched the exchange with wide, worried eyes.

“My lady, what is it that you wish to accomplish with such a match?” Jiang Fengmian’s eyes flickered to Jiang Cheng, as did Wei Wuxian's. It would not be unheard of to call for such an early arrangement. Jiang Cheng had turned of age, and was the heir of Yunmeng Jiangs sect seat. Still, the little of what Wei Wuxian had heard, the marriages of Gusu Lan were later in their lives as scholars and practically ascetic before marriage. For Madam Yu to have planned so meticulously, it was something she seemed unwilling to let go once seized.

“What do I wish for?” Madam Yu snapped, “What I wish for is the security of this place, you sit without worry to the advantages in front of your face you let pass by! Why do you look at him now in when you do not spare a glance for any other reason? Jiang Fengmian, when you do, you still don't understand!”

A lacquered hand pointed at Wei Wuxian suddenly and Madam Yu’s eyes narrowed, “It is for that one. You dare to suggest, Fengmian, that I am so inept, I am to throw the heir of Yunmeng Jiang, my son, towards a betrothal that the sect of Gusu would have to deny! As if I do not know what I suggest! As I would dare to suggest a marriage that is less than what the heir of Yunmeng is expected to accept! Even you know intersecting ties with another clan such as Gusu, is auspicious and is laughable to reject when it is to our favor!”

The notion was outright preposterous within Wei Wuxian’s mind, Madam Yu, who never within a day of her life spared more efforts than forced to regarding Wei Wuxian, had decided to extend a path of betrothal negotiations.

But it was Jiang Cheng who blurted out words before even Wei Wuxian himself, “He is a sect disciple! A cultivator of Yunmeng Jiang!”

Madam Yu pierced him with a cutting look, “ As you said, a disciple raised by Yunmeng Jiang. Is it not my right as the wife of this sect to do as mandated with its disciples when it calls for them?”

[gravitywonagain]

i am not a vessel for your good intent

the sunshot alliance requests the aid of the feared immortal, yiling laozu, in taking down wen ruohan and qishan wen. it does not go the way they expect it to.

happy birthday, wwx! you get to yell at sect leaders and be an immortal with wings!

[G? for now?, 3k, 1/1?, Pre-Wangxian]

(look, i have no idea where this came from or where it might go or if it will go anywhere. let me know if you want to see more or not and we'll figure it out from there?)

CW: suggestion of implied cannibalism

~

It begins as expected. 

Yiling Laozu sweeps into the banquet hall trailing smoke and shadow that folds itself into the shape of long, feathered wings. His eyes burn like cinders, or steel fresh from the forge. He is uncommonly beautiful, with long lashes, high cheekbones, a mole beneath petal-plush lips. But that too must be expected of an immortal, even one whose life force is fed by what he steals from others. If evil wasn't seductive it would be easy to ignore. Yiling Laozu is not easy to ignore. 

Lan Wangji swallows food he can no longer taste. Flattens his palms against the silk of his skirts. 

The prattle of the hall dies quickly; chopsticks are set to rest and porcelain cups and bowls clack down against lacquered wood tables. Silence bulges in throats. 

Yiling Laozu speaks and though his voice is smooth and pleasant, he is angry. Anyone can tell. None should be surprised. 

"Honored cultivation clans," he says, grinning sharp as shale, "I see you've set no place for me at your banquet."

Jin Guangshan rises to answer but Yiling Laozu stops him with a wave of his hand.

"A banquet for your gentry, it seems, while your soldiers eat millet and vinegar. Tell me, nobles, will you wait until they begin scouring battlefields for meat before you throw them the scraps of your pork?"

The implication is clear -- insulting, an outrage. Many stand, fury and pique poised on tongues, yet few speak. Those that do find less help from the mob than they'd anticipated and quiet themselves quickly. None so much as reach for their swords. 

Yiling Laozu sucks his teeth like a disapproving parent: a soft sound that somehow echoes throughout the hall. “A poor way to treat those you wish to fight your battles for you.” 

Lan Wangji can’t help but agree with him. He had said as much to his brother earlier that night, but Lan Xichen isn’t the one throwing this banquet, and it would have been discourteous not to attend. 

“Ah, Yiling Laozu!” Jin Guangshan is already standing at the head of the banquet hall, having sat himself there like the commander of the campaign despite his belated entry into the war. “Welcome to Jiangling, and to the Sunshot Campaign.”

Nie Mingjue, the true commander of this front, doesn’t quite manage to hide his glare at Jin Guangshan. He and the rest of the sect leaders in the hall stand and bow to the dread immortal in greeting. 

He inclines his head in return, but his red eyes are sharp on each of the sect leaders before him. 

“I have received your invitation. What is it you want from me?”

The leaders of the four largest sects represented, the four men who wrote the letter that was sent to Luanzang Gang, move to stand directly before Yiling Laozu. Three of them are too poised to fidget, but Jiang Wanyin is only sixteen. Still he holds himself well, to Lan Wangji’s eye, and stands strong enough to represent his sect well. 

"You know our request. We seek your aid in our war against Qishan Wen."

Jin Guangshan’s words are honeyed thorns. His tone is demure, but he speaks as if to a spoiled child. Placating, superior. 

The hall chokes with anticipation, cultivators holding their breath against hope. There has been no question asked, not really, but sect leaders and disciples alike await Yiling Laozu’s next words like his voice alone will save them. 

They expect a price to be listed, a negotiation, possibly. There have been rumors and wagers made on what the immortal lord of the dead might ask in return. Gold, land, slaves. A virgin bride -- a harem of them. The throne of the Sun Palace. Lan Wangji has not participated in such idle reverie, but he too is a soldier at war and he does not begrudge people their entertainment. 

His own fingertips turn a bloodless white where they are pressed into the meat of his thighs, blue silk dimpled around them. He breathes to calm his nerves. 

Yiling Laozu allows the silence to drag out. His ember-bright eyes flick around the hall from one person to the next. His head cocks to the side, as if he is considering them. At last, he returns his gaze to the four sect leaders who stand expectant in the center of the hall. 

"No."

"No?" The question is voiced by many. Different volumes and different tones, but all asking spin a thread of surprise.

It was an answer that was left undiscussed, the fear of it too strong to invite such an outcome into reality by speaking it. And, truly, it was unthinkable. They are on the right side of this war. An immortal would see that, would agree. Would help them destroy a madman. 

So nobody truly expected Yiling Laozu to say-- 

"No," Yiling Laozu confirms.

Murmurs begin to roll across the floor like distant thunder. Lan Wangji doesn’t need to hear them to know what they’re all saying: we’re doomed. 

A void carves itself into Lan Wangji’s chest as the refusal sets in. Ice follows quickly to fill it. 

If Yiling Laozu does not help them, they are dead. They have no other recourse -- they would not have turned to such a creature if they had -- and they are losing this war. Badly. It will be months, at most, that they will be able to hold out. But how many must die during that time? How many will they lose to Wen Ruohan’s mad grab for power?

It is Nie Mingjue who demands, "Why would you come all this way only to refuse?"

Lan Wangji has known Nie Mingjue all his life and he has always been quick to anger. Now, however, he is not angry so much as incredulous. Lan Wangji understands that, too. 

But Yiling Loazu simply shrugs, a huge gesture for all of its casual impertinence, as the massive smoky wings heave in tandem with his shoulders. 

"I get bored in Yiling,” he drawls. A lazy smirk. Lan Wangji wants to tear it off his face. 

"Surely,” says -- Nie Huaisang, surprisingly, from behind his fluttering fan, still seated at the table that was to his brother’s right, “there are less wearisome ways of entertaining yourself."

"You'd think that, Nie-gongzi. But nothing quite entertains me like sect leaders lying to my face."

"Lying?" Again, the question echoes through the hall like hail in a canyon.

"Indeed. Lying.” He says it coolly, assuredly. “Now, tell me sect leaders: Why do you seek my aid in your war?"

There is a pause, uncertainty swirling in the air. 

Lan Xichen asks, hesitantly, "Do you wish us to lie to you, then?"

"I do not. But that won't stop you. And neither will my imputation. That's what makes it so entertaining.” That shale-sharp grin again. “So. Go on. Why do you want my help?"

Jin Guangshan begins, "Qishan Wen has grown too hungry--"

"Nope. Next."

Jin Guangshan falters, shocked, the way powerful men are often shocked any time their power is undermined. Certainly he had expected Yiling Laozu to let him at least finish whatever speech he’d rehearsed. "Excuse me?" 

"I will not,” says Yiling Laozu. “Really, Jin Guangshan, were you even trying? You, Nie-zongzhu. Your turn."

Nie Mingjue’s brow furrows. He glances sideways toward his brother, though Lan Wangji doesn’t follow his gaze to see what encouragement or confidence Nie Huaisang might offer, and the exchange, whatever it was, is over in a blink. Yet Nie Mingjue seems to have drawn something from it. 

He meets Yiling Laozu’s bored gaze and says, "Wen Ruohan has pressed the borders of Qinghe for years.” He pauses, seemingly expecting to be cut off as Jin Guangshan was before him. 

Yiling Laozu says nothing, blinking his fire-bright eyes -- dowsing the flame in shadow and then sparking it back to life, the dark fan of his lashes catching at the ends the way treetops do at sunset. 

So Nie Mingjue continues, “He is a threat to my people and to my family and I want him destroyed."

"Oh, much closer.” Yiling Laozu’s grin goes lopsided, losing its edge and rounding with amusement. “Well done, Nie-zongzhu. But, you're still lying to me. Next."

"Revenge."

Jiang Wanyin is, as ever, blunt and irascible. But Yiling Laozu doesn’t seem to mind. 

The immortal looks at the teenager like Lan Wangji might look at the youngest of his juniors: indulgent but with guiding censure. 

"Yes, well, that is obvious,” he says, a pale hand emerging from the shrouding darkness to gesture vaguely at Jiang Wanyin’s person. “You're sixteen and wearing a white sash over robes made for a sect heir. Your shiny new guan might as well still have your father's blood on it. But why my help, young Jiang-zongzhu?"

"Because you have a power that he does not."

There might be a tremor in Jiang Wanyin’s voice. Yiling Laozu might hear it, too. If he does, he doesn’t mention it, doesn’t poke at it. He is not here to injure, it seems. Certainly not to step on those who are already brought low. But why, then?

"Flattery,” he grins again, as if it is his mouth’s natural state to be smiling in some way, “you might think will get you anywhere. But I prefer honesty. Next."

Lan Xichen is the only major sect leader left standing and Lan Wangji feels the ice in his chest crystalize into sharp, jagged points. They cut through his lungs, his spine, his belly. 

"Is this a game to you, Yiling Laozu?" Lan Xichen asks. 

Yiling Laozu’s head cocks to the side like a bird with wings like his. "Have I not already answered that question, Lan-zongzhu?” His other hand, just as pale and fine-fingered as the first, and he opens his palms to the sky. “Yes. Yes, it is a game.” 

He spins, exhorting each cultivator in the room. Lan Wangji thinks he catches an ink-slick glimmer of black robes inside the shadow. “You all claim to want my help, yet you will not tell me why. Why, then, should I help you? You waste my time, I waste yours.” The amusement has drained from him leaving frustration and ire to darken the handsome features of his face as he returns to face Lan Wangji’s brother. 

“Lan-zongzhu, I would remind the rest of this grand assembly that your sect has rules against falsehood. So, please, why do you want my help?"

"I don't."

The collective gasp shocks through the room like a discordant note. It holds, waiting for something, anything, to harmonize, to take away this sick feeling in Lan Wangji’s chest. The one that keeps his eyes glued to his brother’s face. 

Lan Xichen does not waver. He does not demure. He holds Yiling Laozu’s gaze, shoulders square, jaw set. 

And Yiling Laozu’s lips begin to curl once more. 

"Yes,” the word sizzles out of him. “Good.” He laughs, dark and delighted, “Now we're getting somewhere! Would you care to elaborate for the assembled gentry?" His arms sweep wide, gesturing around himself, but his eyes do not leave Lan Xichen. 

Lan Xichen’s do not leave Yiling Laozu, either.

"You are greedy and vain,” he says, tone much colder than the diplomatic voice Lan Wangji is so used to hearing from him, “your cultivation is abhorrent, you play games with people's lives, and you are here only to mock us while our lands are overrun and our people slaughtered.” 

Lan Wangji barely suppresses a flinch as Yiling Laozu’s eyes flicker brighter, but Lan Xichen does not pause his speech. 

“I do not want your help,” he reiterates, “but I do believe that we need it to stop someone even worse than you."

There is a strain in his posture that only Lan Wangji would be able to identify as fear. Lan Wangji holds the same fear within himself. His brother has openly insulted the Dread Immortal. It could very well be the last thing he does, and Lan Wangji would be entirely incapable of protecting him. 

But Yiling Laozu surprises him once again by bowing. A low and perfectly executed salute, as if he were but a servant among sect leaders. 

"Thank you, Lan-zongzhu, for your candor."

"Mn," Lan Xichen nods. Lan Wangji can see how tightly his teeth are clenched together. 

"But, if I may,” says Yiling Laozu with a similar courtesy to his overly polite bow, “I do have some counterpoints that may illuminate further why I have decided to crash your garish banquet.”

The darkness of his wings begins to unfurl, spilling feathery shadows across the floor. As if anyone would refuse him his piece. As if anyone could stop him if they tried. 

“To your first point: I live in a very small province on a mountain that nobody else wants, not in marble palaces draped in gold and snow-white silks." He does not need to draw attention to Jin Guangshan -- the man splutters enough to do it himself. But even if he hadn't, nobody in the hall missed the suggestion in the imagery. 

Yiling Laozu continues, "Second: you know less about my cultivation than you know about the Nie clan's." He turns to face Nie Mingjue, something complicated in the red tinged set of his brow, "Less than Nie-zongzhu knows about it, himself, I think. I would help you with that, should you wish it."

Nie Mingjue is clearly affected by the offer, though Lan Wangji cannot tell how, exactly. But Yiling Laozu moves on before he has the chance or obligation to respond to it. A mercy, of a kind.

"As for the rest of your accusation, you are entirely correct.” He looks back to Lan Xichen, “I am playing games and I am mocking you. But who in this room has even thought through the consequences of asking one monster to slay another? Anyone?” 

Nobody speaks. Nobody breathes louder than they have to. 

Yiling Laozu’s rage is beautiful and terrible to behold. It is a surprisingly quiet thing, his voice low, almost a growl. Sharp teeth bared in moonlight, bathed swiftly in blood. 

“I shall put it bluntly. What happens when the monster who helped you is exhausted and weak and suddenly there is no other monster to fight? Will you let him live peacefully on his mountain where he has been for centuries? Or will you, having defeated the evil to the west, turn your armies southward and descend on my town. On my people."

"We could offer you a treaty," says Nie Mingjue. 

"And who would keep you to it?"

"A marriage, then. An alliance,” suggests Jin Guangshan, surely without any intention of giving up his own son to secure it. 

"A hostage or a spy. Even if I could stomach keeping such a person prisoner in my house, they would only ever be someone you could bear to lose. Not overly effective as a deterrent for war."

"You wish us to give you someone dear?" Lan Xichen asks. 

"No.” Yiling Laozu spits the word. “You are missing the point. You have nothing I want and no possible way to guarantee the safety of my people, my land, or myself at the end of this war.” 

Lan Wangji does not miss the way he orders that list. 

Yiling Laozu shakes his head, his rage tempered by weariness. “Nobody in this banquet hall is without ulterior goals, and I do not begrudge you them. But I will not help you only to have you turn on me and mine as soon as you have enough room to breathe. Your self-righteousness and your fear and your hunger is all too thick."

The room is, if possible, more shocked than it was after his first refusal. There was still some small hope in that surprise. A chance for bargaining, maybe. Now there is none. Yiling Laozu has made sure of it. 

He looks sad. 

"See, Nie-gongzi. Wasn't that entertaining?"

Yiling Laozu turns to leave. The tips of his wings drag against the floor like physical things. In the stunned silence, his footsteps echo, strident, purposeful, as he makes his way toward the mouth of the hall. 

Lan Wangji stands. He is not sure what drives him to do it. He has never been skilled with words or diplomacy. But neither, he supposes, have helped here, tonight. 

And there’s something about him -- about Yiling Laozu. Some kind of pull that Lan Wangji feels. A connection, an understanding. He tugs on it and Yiling Laozu halts. 

"You prefer to let Wen Ruohan slaughter us, then?" asks Lan Wangji. 

He is surprised by the even timbre of his own voice. He feels himself shaking apart with something more than anger, more than fear, yet held together by something else entirely. Harmonics finally beginning to resolve the frozen discord in his lungs. 

Red eyes flick to his and Lan Wangji finds himself paralyzed under the weight of them. These eyes, he understands, have watched centuries pass. 

"What do you think this is, young Lan? Do you think you are the first people to conquer and be conquered? I have seen more of you fall to each other than to the ghosts and beasts and demons you all destroy in your contests for glory. You are in a war. There is no winning in a war, only death. Only suffering."

Lan Wangji did not notice Yiling Laozu moving; he did not notice himself moving. But now they stand an arm’s length apart in the center of the hall, gazes locked on each other. 

"There would be less death if one of the armies was yours."

He wonders what would happen if he reached out, if his fingers touched the shadows. Would they feel like the feathers they emulate? 

"True. But that is not your goal. Your goal is victory. Should I choose to support your side because you are righteous? Look around you, young Lan. Look at the men who lead your armies. Tell me, are they more deserving of their people? Their land?"

Lan Wangji doesn’t look, but he does understand. He does not, entirely, disagree. But there is no room for nuance in Yiling Laozu’s judgment. No room for hope. 

"You do not know them."

"You do not know them. And you do not know me." Yiling Laozu’s voice quivers over the last word. Only barely. A string that breaks upon stilling the final note. 

Lan Wangji narrows his eyes. "You came here tonight, not to mock us, but to weigh us. And we almost changed your mind. We defied your expectations as you defied ours."

"What is it you think you know, young Lan?"

He bristles. That’s the third time Yiling Laozu has called him “young” and he hates it. He hates it viscerally even as he recognizes the disparity between them. He is likely painfully young to Yiling Laozu. But he is not a child to be dismissed as such. To be lied to. You do not know me. 

"You want to help us. You want Wen Ruohan gone, just as we do."

"No.”

Lan Wangji almost staggers at the certainty in the word. He blinks. But he is sure. He is not misreading this. So he sets his jaw and raises an eyebrow, challenging the Dread Immortal. 

The immortal who returns Lan Wangji’s challenge with an eyebrow raise of his own. “I want him gone, sure, but not to assume his place,” his chin juts toward Jin Guangshan. Then toward Nie Mingjue and Jiang Wanyin, “Not to kill the terror from the north. Not for revenge. And not, young Lan, because it is right."

Young Lan. 

They are standing even closer now. Lan Wangji thinks he might be able to feel Yiling Laozu’s breath on his face. He might be beneath the arch of his towering, black wings. 

"If you do nothing, he will come for Yiling just as you believe we will."

"If I do nothing, that is likely true."

"So you will do something?"

Something softens around Yiling Laozu’s eyes. The red of them dims just enough that Lan Wangji can see the hint of an iris inside, likely only because they are standing so close. The corner of Yiling Laozu’s mouth ticks up -- a tiny smile, different from all the others he’s worn tonight. Lan Wangji’s breath catches in his throat. 

"Yes,” Yiling Laozu whispers, and it sounds like it’s a concession to even say it. “But not for you."

There is a sound like a thousand wings flapping inside of a cave and the world goes black. 

When Lan Wangji opens his eyes again, Yiling Laozu is gone.

[mimble-sparklepudding]

Does your OC like to hoard items and treasures? Or do they prefer to have few possessions?  How do they feel about those with a different approach to such things?

Mimble likes to hoard items, treasures and, most especially, confectionary. Both in his home and about his person. In fact there seems to be some discrepancy between the size of Mimble and the sheer amount of items he seemingly has access to at any given time. Rumours abound that Mimble makes surreptitious use of pocket dimensions or eldritch sorcery, but he maintains that it is merely extremely well designed pockets and "creative" tailoring.

Humble does not have a vast number of personal possessions, but he treasures and maintains those things that he does own. Particularly his blacksmithing and leatherworking tools and his various weapons and armour. He also takes touching care with anything given to him as a gift, even when he does not completely understand it's purpose, such as the black lacquered bamboo chopsticks he was given by Isse and Azami.

[spicykaraage]

Tenipuri Complete Character Profile - Kaoru Kaidoh

[PROFILE]

Birthday: May 11th (Taurus)

Blood Type: B

Relatives: Father (Shibuki Kaidoh), Mother (Hozumi Kaidoh), Younger Brother (Hazue Kaidoh)

Father’s Occupation: Company Employee (banker)

Elementary School: Okutamagawa Elementary School

Middle School: Seishun Academy Junior High School

Grade & Class: Second Year | Class 2-7 | Seat 4

Club: Tennis Club - Regular, Future Captain

Committee: None

Strong Subjects: English

Weak Subjects: Math, Science

Frequently Visited Spot at School: Training Room

Favorite Motto: “In for a penny, in for a pound.” ➜ “Slow and steady wins the race.” [23.5]

Daily Routines: Long distance runs, cleaning his room

Hobbies: Marathoning, collecting bandanas, rock climbing [TP]

Favorite Color: Blue

Favorite Music: Traditional Japanese instrumental music

Favorite Movie: Japanese films

Favorite Book: Japanese literature from the Meiji Era

Favorite Food: Tororo soba (zaru style), yogurt, 100% fruit juice (white peach flavor [TP])

Favorite Anniversary: Father’s Day, Mother’s Day

Preferred Type: A girl who eats food with gusto

Ideal Date Spot: Zoo (he wants to see the polar bears) ➜ “A cat cafe—I mean, going cycling.” [TP]

His Gift for a Special Person: Imabari towels

Where He Wants to Travel: “Nowhere.” (a magazine featuring Malta is visible in his bag)

Thing He Wants Most Right Now: New training equipment ➜ For Seigaku to win the National Tournament again [23.5]

Dislikes: Monsters, ghosts ➜ Supernatural things, konjac [TP]

Skills Outside of Tennis: General housework (especially cleaning and sewing [TP]), can quickly grab beans with chopsticks [TP]

Spends Allowance On: Training equipment

Routine During the World Cup: Sending postcards to his family

[DATA]

Height: 173cm ➜ 174cm [23.5]

Weight: 57kg

Shoe Size: 26.5cm

Dominant Arm: Right

Vision: 1.5 Left & Right

Play Style: Counter Puncher

Signature Moves: Snake, Boomerang Snake, Short Snake, Tornado Snake, Gyro Laser

Time He Wakes Up: 5:00am

Time He Goes to Sleep: 1:00am

Daily Running Distance: 25km

Favorite Brands:

Racquet: HEAD (Ti.S7)

Shoes: PUMA (Cell Factor PTO634)

Fitness Test Results:

Sidesteps: 58

Shuttle Run: 140

Back Strength: 122kg

Grip Strength: 54.5kg

Backbend: 62.8cm

Seated Forward Bend: 49.6cm

50m Run: 6.74 seconds

Standing Long Jump: 224cm

Handball Throw: 33m

Endurance Run (1500m): 4:47

Overall Rating: Speed: 3 / Power: 3 / Stamina: 4.5 / Mental: 3 / Technique: 3 / Total: 16.5

Kurobe Memo: “His unyielding personality and endurance are all part of his charm. I’m sure he'll grow into bring the type of player that can strip off an opponent's control as the match goes on. His match with Tezuka was a great learning opportunity for him to stop being so reserved with others.” [RB]

[POSSESSIONS]

What’s in His Bedroom [10.5]:

TV and audio equipment // Various equipment along with a DVD player and collection of DVDs

Glass table // Used for studying, it is always clean and not a single fingerprint can be found on it

Japanese-style bed area // A spacious area in his bedroom with Japanese motifs. He uses it strictly for his bed and has a double-size futon laying out

Area for training // An area where he keeps various stretching equipment. He trains hard everyday even in his bedroom

Full-length mirror // He had it installed to check on his form, but he doesn’t use it much

What’s in His Bag [10.5]:

Bandanas // He always has two or three of them with him so he can replace one if it gets dirty

Writing supplies // He only takes notes with a ballpoint pen

Notebook

His lunch // Made in luxurious, lacquered jubako (tiered lunch boxes) and furoshiki wrapped. He also brings chopsticks and a chopstick rest with him

Sewing kit // Along with nail clippers. He always maintains his nails before practice

Handkerchief and tissues // He is particular about staying clean and tidy

Pass case

[TRIVIA]

The Prince of Tennis 10.5 Fanbook | Release Date: 11/02/2001

He is described to have large, upturned eyes and slightly big lips

He is secretly compassionate and easily moved

He prefers girls with big eyes and who can trust him with her heart and soul

He loves yogurt and eats it to stay healthy, he particularly likes the Morinaga brand

He does a great amount of daily training, including intense strength training unbeknownst to the other members

He glares at people who approach him and exudes an aura that keeps them at bay. In reality, it is because he is nervous over his appearance and is not good at interacting with others

His hissing is a habit of how he breathes, Konomi wanted him to give off an eerie feeling by doing it

He is Konomi’s favorite member of Seigaku

He is one of few characters who wear no show socks

He wears bandanas to help motivate himself

He trained and mastered his Snake Shot after losing a rookie match in the fall when he was a first year

He will stay silent and glare when asked personal questions, he usually is not angry, however

He does not mind being called by his first name, but gets angry when people call him “viper”

His sharp, arching eyebrows are natural

His unnerving aura tends to scare off animals as well

He believes he is stronger than Momoshiro and could easily beat him

He does tennis training and long distance runs (morning and evening) even on off days

He secretly loves animals, especially cats

His personality is described as someone who is misunderstood and frightens others because of it, but is actually kind and afraid of hurting others more than anything else

Konomi describes him as “hardworking” and that he’s not just unpleasant, he’s a hard worker who happens to be unpleasant. An “I am who I am” type of character

The Prince of Tennis 20.5 Fanbook | Publication Date: 12/04/2003

He’s described as stoic and tenacious, and would be suited for event planning

He has a temperament of never giving up, which gives him leadership qualities

He will go on runs even after matches

His secondary sport would be boxing

The Prince of Tennis 40.5 Fanbook | Publication Date: 12/04/2007

He tends to let his emotions overtake him and is considered a “troublemaker” because of it

He is very just, moral and will get angry when someone disrespects his teammates or rivals

He has a hard time accepting people and tends to clash with them, which puts a strain on his relations. He does however, have a strong sense of camaraderie and exhibits a cooperative nature with his friends

He’s described to have a jealous side to him and has a tendency to want to control his friends and/or lovers

His daily running distance is 25km, he will continue to run even further until he reaches his physical limits

He’s been popular with the older women in the area of the National Tournament. He was spotted at the shopping district surrounded by women trying to feed him

[ninapi]

○●○●○●○●●○●○●○●○●●○●○●○●○●●

┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺╚══ Kita Version ╝

Premise: The connection he had with his past made Kita want you more than any of the others. He wanted to be like his grandma and she had a human by her side, always. Looking for the village best interest he ends up finding the real meaning of true love.

Word Count: 3102

Note: I highly suggest you read chapter 0 first (link here) 😊

Chapter 1: A Princess

The fox village somehow reminded you of your own human village.

They would normally stick to themselves, to their own family, yet they would always greet the neighbors, know everyone around and function like normal society back home.

You heard the very much feared old lady who ruled this place for thousands of years had a human as her husband, and you could easily see his influence live on, to this day.

Unlike the fancy cottages you’ve experienced among the other clans, the housing arrangements here were standard Japanese town houses, tatami matted rooms, same daily usage tools like ceramic cups and lacquered bowls. They used chopsticks the same way you did, ate the same types of food you did back home. It felt like a very welcoming place, to you at least. The fantastic aspect of the other clans was pretty impressive on its own, but the familiarity of the environment made you feel more comfortable.

You knew how to eat properly, how to dress like them, what was expected of you, it was a comforting feeling not being so out of place. Of course, the lack of fuzzy ears on your head made it very obvious to everyone that you weren’t one of them.

To some it was fascinating, most of them had never seen an actual human besides the former leader, but to others you were the pest, a constant threat, you had blood of the killers running through your veins, a danger to have around.

The Suna clan, who was entrusted with your care, was a lovely household.

Rintarou himself wasn’t half bad, even if at first he terrorized your nightmares with his scary looking grin. He takes care of the handling of the customers in their family-owned inn and as such, has wonderful people skills.

His parents were a very warm-hearted older couple, you could still feel in the air around them how much they loved each other and how much love they had for their children. They took you in almost instantly without questioning your origins, his mother was excited as this was the first girl her son ever brought home and her husband was just as excited to have an extra pair of hands to help around the inn. Overall, they made it very pleasant to transition into this new area of the forest. Made you feel welcomed, loved even.

As for their second child, she was younger than Rin, by a lot. When you heard she was already ‘sold’ as the leader’s mate you thought she’d be closer to his age, but that was further from the truth. With foxes it’s complicated to know their actual age, but to your standards, she looked like a ten-year-old in human age.

She quickly got closer to you, happy to have an older sister figure of some sort, her brother had already passed the age of playing with her, so she was feeling very lonely, and you came with perfect timing. Though, the more time you spent together, the more uneasy it made you feel thinking she would marry soon and would have to bring babies to the community. She was still very much a child, and you felt the need to protect her from such an ill fated destiny, you wanted to protect her innocence and for her to have a choice in who she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, even if the leader was indeed one of the best options around, it still didn’t feel right.

So, you decided to touch on the subject the day the leader himself came to visit you, no longer than a few days after your arrival.

“How have you been liking your stay with us, (Y/N)? I think having you with the Suna clan was a fantastic idea.” he walked beside you aimlessly towards a nice river nearby.

“I have, yes. They’re very kind to me.” you still didn’t trust this man, people feared him, to you he looked anything but kind, but an extra layer of cautiousness was added when he mentioned they would have to kill you if you tried to leave the village.

He nodded gladly, taking a detour to a flower field hoping to rise your spirits, “I’m glad, they do work in the field, it was expected of them. The Miya’s are fine too, but they can be a bit possessive… a neutral home seemed the most fitting. Apologies for taking this long to visit, I’ve been holding counseling meetings with the elders on the matter. The majority disagreed, they didn’t want another human in our home ground and some even suggested to keep you as prisoner, so it took some convincing to get their approval.” he could see you swallow hard, being able to physically feel your discomfort yet causing a little smile to creep on his face.

“Nothing to worry about though, I managed to convince them by telling them I would bring you to the castle and keep an eye on you. So that’s why I’m here today, I’m bringing you with me.”

This certainly took you by surprise, you found a home with the Suna’s, this was so sudden you didn’t even know how to feel about it, yet you were thankful to the leader for fighting his way through the elders to get you to stay with them. “With all due respect, Kita-sama, aren’t you marrying lady Suna? Wouldn’t it be inappropriate for me to share your residence? That’s what Rin said when the Miya house was offered for me to stay in.” for some reason he didn’t like how matter-of-fact your statement was, as if you knew for sure you would end up with one of the twins, Osamu most likely.

“The matter of our marriage is beyond the definition of love, it’s just an agreement to ensure the prosperity of our village, with that out of the way, it’s not like we will be sharing a bed, I arranged an entire area of the castle for it to be your quarters, which is another reason why it took me this long to come, the preparations were endless.” you could feel the sourness in his tone, confusing you just a bit.

“I appreciate it, Kita-sama, thank you. Should we go back then? I don’t have much to pack, all the clothing I have was provided to me kindly by Rintarou.”

Another pang of an unknown feeling hit him hard, making his guts turn in disgust, “You won’t be needing any of that, anything he’s given you I can triple it and in the finest there is.” he’s never been a boasting man, he’s usually very reserved but he was being hunted by an evil spirit of some sort eating his insides at the thought of you being chummy with the others, a new emotion developed by the leader apparently.

“You don’t have to, I’m sure he will lend me a couple if I ask him. He’s a bit exaggerated you see, he got me about twenty different kimonos and all the accessories to go along with them, yet I mostly just wear the inn’s uniform.” your soft chuckles seemed to snap him out of his crazy fit of jealousy, it was somewhat refreshing seeing someone not interested in riches, majority would jump at the mention of high-end couture.

“I already took the liberty of choosing a couple of things I thought you might like, so there’s no need to bother the Suna’s, you will be my responsibility going forward, it’s only fair I take care of all your needs.” his tone was softer now, making you smile, just the thought of having such an important and busy figure going out of his way to look for things you might like made your chest grow warm.

“I appreciate your kindness. Shall we go then?” offering you his arm, you looped yours around his as you walked back to the inn.

He didn’t seem so harsh anymore.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

The castle was a marvelous place.

A multi-story traditional Japanese castle, full of intricate carvings of fox deities and beautiful flowers, full to the brim with servants and guards of all kinds, artifacts dating thousands of years decorating the space.

True to his word, you got an entire area just for yourself.

It was a secluded room on the back of the property separated from the main keep by a pond and luscious zen garden, the room was used in the past to hold tea ceremonies for his grandma and hadn’t been used at all since her passing.

He made sure to have it decorated to what he thought could be to your liking. A permanent futon was laid on the back side of the room mounted on a wooden platform, the covers embroidered with beautiful cherry blossoms, matching pillows, and a canopy net to shield you from the bugs hanging from the ceiling.

There was also a low table at the front of the room with a few cushions for you to sit on, a tea set with all sorts of flavors, some you’ve never tried before, books and even some yarn in case you liked to knit something and keep yourself busy.

It was a lovely room, had a 360 view of the garden, you could smell nature, hear the birds sing, feed the koi fish in the pond. Not like you had any complaints about your small room at the Suna inn, but this was by all means an improvement.

Kita-sama had been overly attentive during the past few days after your arrival, coming to check on you multiple times a day, bringing you sweets or things he picked up along the way that made him think of you, some of them rather questionable like the pretty hairpin you were wearing right now.

“I knew purple would look good on you.” he was staring dreamily at your face, a common practice of him nowadays.

“You speak too highly of me, I never thought something this pretty would look good on me.”

“You’re the one selling yourself short. Your beauty is recognizable miles away and you live now in castle grounds, a princess, some would call you.” there was a slight tinge of pink dusting his cheeks, nobody would be able to notice but you did, he was way too close for you to miss it.

“I was thinking, would you like to go on a walk with me? One of my duties is to patrol the village, make sure nobody needs anything, it could get you familiarized with the places and people a like, maybe even stop by for some of those dangos you seemed to enjoy the other day.” was he asking you out like on date? Or was he just fulfilling his duties as the leader? It was hard to tell with him.

Either way there was just one answer.

“It would be my pleasure.”

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

He wasn’t kidding when he said he had prepared the finest silks for you, the kimono you were wearing for the outing was beyond words, beautify decorated with golden flowers embroidered throughout, the light purple tone of the fabric matching the hairpin he had gifted you.

You were a sight to behold. These were the words of many, not just the leader’s. Though, his arm was the one holding your figure through your lovely walk on the streets of the old town district.

To some it felt like a parade, people stopping to watch you both walk, laugh together, try the sweets being sold by the merchants in the streets. It was a beautiful sight, one they felt lucky to witness.

“Kita-sama…” you whispered near his ear, “…why is everyone staring at us…?”

Your question made him chuckle, he had noticed this hours ago, it was cute how you noticed it until now, made him feel proud of his hosting skills. “They’ve never seen someone as beautiful, I’m sure.” he whispered back, his hot breath tickling your ear.

“Oh my! How a beautiful couple! Finally, our leader is tying the knot I see! And with the finest bride at that! I’m sure your grandma would be proud of you, seeing you followed her steps to the very end.” the old ladies from the market were making a fuzz as soon as you arrived at the premise. Their words causing you discomfort.

Is this what it was all about? He wanted you close just because he wanted to be like his grandma and have a human by his side?

Kita could see the aggravated look on your face, cutting the visit to the market short. “My dear, is something the matter? You look unwell.”

“I just…thought…never mind.” you tried your best to fake a sweet smile, yet you couldn’t fool a man like him.

“What is it? Are you tired? Did I make you walk too much?” you just shook your head, walking over to a stone bench on the side of the road, wishing to rest for just a bit, overwhelmed by your own feelings.

“C’mon, you can tell me anything.” sitting beside you, he reached for one of your hands, which you retrieved back not wanting his touch at the moment, still feeling hurt. Your actions startled the leader, who now sported an equally hurt expression.

“You…you’re being this nice to me just because your grandma married a human, aren’t you?” he didn’t expect to hear those words leaving your pretty rosy lips, it split his heart in two thinking you had such a low concept of him.

“I would never.” his words didn’t have the expected effect on you, he knew he had to be honest if he wanted to get out of this situation.

“Ok, maybe at the beginning…” he got your attention, finally. You waited quietly for him to continue, wanting to give him a chance to redeem himself.

“It is true, my grandfather was human, thanks to their union is that we have such an established community here unlike the other fox clans scattered across the country, thanks to him it is said we are the closest to our goddess Inari as she gave her blessing and turn him into a fox.

Our village is at risk, the lack of pups in the last decades are making our numbers go down rapidly. The majority of the villagers are getting close to the last stretch in their lifespan and soon we would be having less than half of habitants that we currently have. The record breaking low in breeding is causing the village to be in the brink of extinction, and I’m the one in charge of fixing this, to save our people.”

“So you thought…”

“Yeah, I thought the union with a human could bring Inari’s favor upon us once more…” he let out a defeated sigh, ashamed of his own thoughts.

“I was right then, you were trying to court me…” the small smile on your face was bittersweet, it only caused his heart to break even further.

“I don’t think that way anymore, (Y/N)…I need you to believe me…” the desperate look on his face made you reconsider your actions, this time you were the one reaching for his hand. “And what is it that you think now, leader?”

“As a leader, I think I am in the right path, not because of Inari, but because pups is what we need…” his words made you chuckle shyly, his confident posture quickly returning back to normal.

“As a man, I don’t see you as just a human anymore. I see you as the beautiful, smart, kind woman you are, and think of how much I would like for you to choose me, even if I’m aware of how high up in your list Miya is…”

“Hmmm…both sound to me like the same person though, the leader and the man think basically about the same thing.” he hadn’t seen it that way but it was true, at the end both had the same answer, and that was, he wanting you for himself, to breed you and create a big loving family who would bring prosperity to his village, to spend the rest of his reign with someone equally worthy of his time and care.

“You’re right as usual.” his shoulder was now brushing yours, his warmth sipping through the layers of garments you were wearing.

A thought kept hunting you though, one that became even more aggravating as days went by, “But what about lady Suna? Isn’t she the one…?”

He had totally forgotten about the arrangement, in all truth his grandma had been the one sealing the deal once the Suna’s had welcomed a daughter to this world, he was still a young pup by then and didn’t think anything of it. Breaking a deal made by the former leader sounded like an impossible task, especially being you the one on the other side of the bargain, and the Suna family being the most prominent family in the village, after his own. There was no way the elders would easily agree to this matter, that was certain.

“I told you…there’s no promise of love in that marriage. I see her as a younger sister, don’t have any sort of interest in…well you know…”

“Breading her?” the mocking tone of your voice made him flush; you had this weird effect on him, he’s never felt so many things at once by just hearing a couple of words.

“Yeah…that…” you laughed at his expression, making him laugh as well.

He somehow knew everything would be just fine now that you were by his side even if there were still a lot of unknowns to figure out along the way.

Your disease was still a problem and fighting the elders on a matter this important could get your head on a spike.

A lot of work had to be put into this for things to work out between the two of you.

But you were worth the hassle.

And he would do his best to get you the life you deserve, to get you all to himself, to discover what true love actually means.

○●○●○●○●●○●○●○●○●●○●○●○●○●●

Previous Chapter Masterlist

[chierafied]

December Drabbles Day 17 - An Auspicious Beginning

Read on AO3.

Banner fan art by the amazing @sayuri-liu

For @sagemcmae. Thank you for sharing your wonderful creativity with the fandom and all your help with the Archive. I appreciate you so much and wish you the absolute best! 💙💙💙

Prompt "gift exchange shenanigans" by Gê, thank you so much!! 💙

Day 17 - An Auspicious Beginning

The decorations had been put up. Kagome's hut had been fully cleaned from top to bottom. She, Kaede, Sango and Rin had been stuck in the kitchen for the past few days, furiously preparing the various dishes for the New Year’s meal. And if she needed to cook anything for the next two weeks, it would be too soon. 

Almost everything was ready for welcoming in the New Year. Kagome sat in the quiet of the night, squinting at the lumpy concoction in her lap in the lamplight. It wasn’t working out quite the way she’d hoped. She wished she had started working on it earlier, that she would’ve had more practice, even more yarn at her disposal but sadly there were no convenient craft stores in her vicinity. She hoped that the thought would be what counted, with this one. That she had wanted to give him a gift, in the first place, and that she’d gone to the trouble of making it herself. 

She didn’t think Sesshoumaru was even expecting a gift from her, so hopefully being able to surprise him with one would already win her some points. Even if her stitches weren’t as even as she’d like them to be. 

Kagome smiled wryly at the wooden needles in her hands. Had someone told her a year ago that she’d be losing precious sleep over making a gift to Sesshoumaru, of all people, she wouldn’t have believed them. But it had been one weird year. Good, but definitely weird. Last year this time, she’d still been reeling over her heartbreak. It hadn’t been until March that Sesshoumaru had first approached her. And since then, they had met up at least monthly. Usually, he came over to her place for tea.  

It was unexpected but very nice. He was surprisingly good, if quiet, company. She enjoyed spending time with him. She fully considered him a friend now. Maybe even... 

Kagome shook her head and shoved down the feelings that had been bubbling underneath the surface for several weeks now. 

Better not dwell on that.  

She yawned and dug in for the last of her energy, her needles clinking furiously. The yarn was almost out. Just a layer or two and she was done.  

And then, at last, she looped in the last stitch. Kagome gathered her creation in her hands and folded it carefully. She pulled out the spare scrap of silk to wrap it in. Then she paused and tilted her head. The sound was faint but unmistakable. The distant echo of a tolling bell. Somewhere out there, the Buddhist temples were ringing away the sins of the past year. Midnight was approaching. She’d finished just on time. 

*

The feast was laid out. Kagome hoped she hadn’t presumed too much, setting the lacquered trays for Sesshoumaru, as well. They’d agreed he’d come over today, though there had been no mention of celebrating the occasion. He didn’t look offended, though, as he took his seat opposite from her. There was a sense of discomfort around him, however. 

“Go ahead and dig in,” Kagome told him with a smile. “There’s plenty to eat!” 

“I can see that. Thank you for this meal.” He bowed his head. 

Kagome ate and watched him fiddle with his chopsticks. He kept sneaking glances at her, then quickly looking away.  

Finally, Kagome set down her chopsticks. “Is everything all right?” 

Sesshoumaru nodded curtly. Then, he cleared his throat. “This Sesshoumaru has taken the liberty to... I mean we did not have any agreement on...” He heaved a sigh and frowned at his feet. “I have something for you,” he finally announced. 

Kagome’s heart skipped in her chest. “You do?” 

“Yes. I hope you do not mind.” 

“I don’t! At all. Um, I have something for you too, actually.” 

Their eyes met. Kagome offered him a shy smile and his lips curved a little in response. 

Kagome rose to fetch the gift and handed it to Sesshoumaru.  

“Thank you for your friendship last year. I’ve begun to depend on it.” She bit her lip, hoping to hold back the blush she could feel threatening her cheeks. “I hope I can continue to count on it this year, too.” 

He accepted the gift with a solemn inclination of his head. Then, offered her a gift in return, beautifully wrapped in painted silk.  

“Thank you for welcoming me into your home and for the gift of your company. I have come to value it above everyone else’s.” His gaze was steady on hers, but his face was slightly flushed. “I wish to have more of it, during this year.” 

Kagome’s fingers trembled as she accepted the gift from Sesshoumaru. Her pounding heart, she was sure, was in her eyes as she helplessly stared at him. All the feelings she’d been holding back were now plain to see. 

But perhaps it didn’t matter. Because Sesshoumaru’s warm gaze was a mirror of her own. 

[rosenongrata]

solitary solidarity – iv

Summary: A selection of writings that explore the early days of the odd relationship between Doctor Veritas Ratio and Missus Kagome Ikeda.

A/N: so i actually finished this last night, but just posting it now cuz i may have promptly fallen asleep once i was done lol

c.w/s: varies on what part, but i'll make sure to mark each addition with the proper tags in the a/n. OC-insert. c.ws for chapter: im actually not sure how to put this, but implications to abuse ig?? nothing is explicitly mentioned but it's possible to tell shits wrong between Kagome and her husband (also he calls her a whore once). soft Ratio hours (again). Kagome dissociates pretty hard for half of the chapter

w.c: ~1.4k

The two esteemed scholars had been chatting during lunch today – while Dr. Ratio prefers eating by himself in the sweet, sweet privacy of his office; he chose to accommodate Kagome’s wishes to be in the cafeteria instead for today. He knows well that she’s not the most sociable, so her eagerness to be in the populated cafeteria instead of her office strikes him as odd.

At least, that’s what he was thinking prior to a man with a head of black hair and a pair of tired brown eyes showing up – he even has a disgustingly sweet smile plastered on his face while he stands behind her. When the man brushes his fingers along Kagome’s shoulder, she nearly snaps her lacquered wood chopsticks in half.

“Hey, dear,” He says lightly, “I decided to visit you at your office today! It sure is nice here.” He grasps her shoulder tenderly, but that’s what makes Kagome’s skin crawl.

“Good afternoon, Shoto,” Kagome quickly composes herself, the life and color draining from her expression and eyes – Dr. Ratio didn’t expect to see her eyes to somehow grow even more lifeless.

“Ah, so this is…” The doctor’s eyes flick up and down Shoto’s figure, “…your husband.” Dr. Ratio says, his arms firmly crossed – looking unamused as he always does.

Shoto’s smile cracks a little from irritation, but is swiftly repaired within moments.

“This must be your…friend, right?” Shoto asks his lovely wife.

“…Yes, I’m her friend.” Dr. Ratio answers for her – he can see her inattention to her surroundings written all over her features. It’s a half-lie, but he deems it necessary for his plan to get her husband out of here – away from her. The other day with her – when she had punched him in the face – was all he needed to know about this man.

“Anyway,” Shoto turns his attention back onto Kagome, and the doctor swears he can see her curl a little bit away from her husband, “I got you a gift, dear! I’m sure you’ll love it. Here,” He pulls out a thin rectangular black box before opening it, revealing a pair of black gloves, “New gloves!”

“Oh, uhm… Th-thank you, Shoto…” She shakily sets her chopsticks down, staring down at the brand-new gloves before her.

(…He’s love-bombing her. Why am I not surprised…) Dr. Ratio ponders, eyes narrowing at the shorter man.

“C’mon, put them on. They’re very soft!” Shoto pressures.

“But… Shoto, you know that—” Kagome grimaces slightly, refusing to meet her partner’s eyes that grow with impatient anger.

People in the cafeteria begin watching more intently – gossiping amongst themselves. Not even so-called geniuses are immune to the flavorful taste of brewing drama. And then Shoto grabs her wrist, ready to pluck off her old gloves – the ones that have been patched over and over again, sewn back together numerous times over the years.

“Here, I’ll help you!” He chirps, his voice so fake it’s painful – to the doctor, at least.

Dr. Ratio rolls his dichromatic eyes before standing up abruptly – Kagome fully expects him to leave, she wouldn’t blame him for it, either. But, instead, the scholar grabs the other man’s wrist with a near death grip – leaving a burn ache in Shoto.

“You need to leave.” He mutters to the smaller man, glaring down at him, “You’ve wasted enough of everyone’s time.” If there’s one thing Dr. Ratio is – without a doubt – it’s fearless. “Especially Kagome’s.” He grumbles.

“What’s it to you?” Shoto bites back with a nasty grin, but the stronger man can feel him tremble with fear in his grasp.

“To be frank, it’s none of your business – nor is it any of your business to be pestering Kagome, me, and the rest of the Guild.”

“Very funny. Anyway,” Shoto pushes the doctor off with some ease, but only because Dr. Ratio allowed him to – he’s waiting for the husband to make another mistake, “We’re going, Kagome. We have business to attend to…away from these lovely people.” He throws a glaring glance at the opposing man before grabbing Kagome’s arm and roughly tugging her up to her feet.

“…That’s your last mistake, Shoto.” Dr. Ratio huffs, “I can either call security or…you can leave Kagome behind – here in the Guild.”

Weighing his options, Shoto scoffs at him and releases his wife’s now tender arm, “Fine, then. I’ll leave…” His voice lowers to a dark whisper, “She’s a good for nothing whore, anyway.” He glares into her unfocused eyes, “Look at her… She can’t even make a peep – tsk.” He rolls his eyes before departing.

Dr. Ratio says nothing to him, instead wrapping one arm around Kagome’s drooping shoulders as a way of keeping her upright. When he glances at the remaining people in the cafeteria, he notices they’re still talking with each other about Aeons knows what – most likely that little scene, he wagers.

“…Can you hear me, Kagome?” He whispers to her, and she fails to respond – her expression completely despondent and her eyes absent of awareness. “I will take that as a no.” He sighs.

He quickly cleans up her lunch materials, putting her bento box back together before leading her out of the cafeteria – anywhere that’s quiet and isolated will have to do. And he knows the perfect place – his office in the medical quarters.

They walk there, and each time she stumbles on her weakened legs, he catches her without too much thought about it. He assists her the whole way there – regardless of how slow she walks and no matter how many times she stumbles. And if he ends up having to carry her, he’ll do that, too.

Arriving in his office, Dr. Ratio helps Kagome settle down on the sofa in the quaint room before taking a seat at his desk. He swivels his chair in her direction – folding one leg over the other and resting his hands on his raised knee, they intertwine to form an overall scrutinizing posture.

Her eyes flutter shut, covering her lifeless stare that had been glued to the wall moments ago. It takes many minutes of pure silence – including the doctor removing his gaze from her, instead staring at the floor – before she can form words, let alone a single sound.

“Mmh…” She groans, pressing two fingers to her now-aching forehead – he can immediately tell it’s a tension headache that shoots through her skull.

Yet his offer for medication goes unheard for several moments as she rubs her head. When her mind finally processes that someone was speaking to her moments ago, her eyes shoot open and she finally spots him on the other side of the room.

“Did…did you say something?” She inquires; voice broken and weak.

His gaze is firmly on her figure, but not as firm as it often is – it’s softened, keeping his grumpiness low to avoid scaring her and worsening her condition.

“I asked if you would like some medication – for your tension headache, to be precise.” He replies.

“Uhm…” She sways a little in her seat, eyes losing focus again while her hand falls to her lap.

He sighs softly, turning away in his chair and grabbing a small bottle of headache relief medication from a drawer in his desk. He twists open the cap, taking a single pill out, and striding over to her after grabbing a cup of cool water from the water dispenser.

“You should take it,” He hands her the pill by taking her hand and placing it on her open palm, “At the very least, it will ease the inflammation.”

She gives him a small nod before taking the pill with water as instructed. He then rests the little white cup on the coffee table nearby. When he turns to return to his desk, he feels a weak tug at the tail of his clothes.

“Do you need something else?” He inquires as softly as he can as he turns back toward her – he’s well-aware that he sounds far too strict for his own good right now.

“Stay…” She breathes, the words coming from her held together by a thinning thread.

“I was not going to leave you alone. You are in no shape for isolation.” He reassures and takes a seat next to her once she releases his clothes.

“Thank you…” She whispers, her eyes falling shut again.

And without warning, she falls against his broad shoulder – her head resting there limply. He visibly stiffens – back straightening like a board and arms flexing into knots. When he hears sudden soft snores coming from her, he sighs in relief – his body deflating. He stays still for now, eyes scanning her peaceful features before glancing to the floor.

(…That’s that for now, then.) He sighs mentally, (But I know that this is only one facet of her – too much deeply troubles her. She’s not bored and emotionless by nature – no one is.)

[kashiyuka-looking-at-things]

looking at Wakasa lacquered chopsticks

[thebroccolination]

Celebrating Words with More Words

I'm tremendously self-indulgent in that I just hit my One-Million-Words Milestone on AO3 and now I'm 1.2k-deep into a new AU crossover fic about Kawi and Arthit being identical twins.

LI'L EXCERPT:

Arthit drops a heinously large dollop of the red syrup into a glass of milk and stirs the saccharine concoction with a fancy-looking black-lacquered chopstick. “When Kongphob left for Beijing,” he says, eyes on the white and red steadily blending into the familiar pink, “I…panicked.” Kawi nods slowly. He was negotiating his first songwriting contract at the time, and he’d been so immersed in getting everything right that he hardly remembers what Pisaeng was doing let alone Arthit and his boyfriend. They hadn’t really gotten close until after Kongphob left, when Arthit was alone and lonely and struggling. “I almost ended things with him,” Arthit says. He drops the chopstick in the sink and takes a deep gulp like it’s a shot of tequila. “I came to my senses, obviously, but the thought of him being so far away terrified me.” Kawi wrinkles his nose before he can stop himself. “Because he might cheat?” he guesses. Arthit lifts his head and stares as if Kawi upended a sala syrup bottle into a public toilet. “Okay, never mind,” Kawi says. “Not something either of us worries about, apparently.” Arthit quirks a half-smile. “Yeah, no,” he says. “Never.”

I'm having a great time. \:D/